#can games just be simple again? not everything needs to be open world ;;

[the-shy-artisan]

As much as I enjoy open world games, I find myself longing for the days of simple linear paths and hub worlds with doors/portals to separate levels :c

[kirammanswifey]

I gotta say you're one of my favourite writers as of late and I've been re reading all your work over and over again on my trips to college, like ot just scratches my brain so so wonderfully 😩😩

Would you be open to write them Arcane characters and fem!reader's sleeping arrangements? Like who cuddles who, who has matching pyjamas, who reads in bed

arcane characters' sleeping arrangements x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i missed this so much, i haven't updated for a week, college is eating me alive, literally. hope you liked this dynamic, my favorite was ekko's, lately this man has snuck into my heart. as you already know request are open ;)

Viktor

The room is wrapped in a soft, relaxing atmosphere. The warm light from the desk lamp dimly illuminates the walls, and the sound of rain outside the window adds a layer of tranquility to the space. Viktor is by your side, and for a moment, you can see something few people ever have the privilege of seeing: his vulnerability.

It’s curious how, in his world full of inventions, calculations, and scientific advancements, there’s something so basic as the need for someone close to him that seems to overflow from the rigid facade he usually wears. You’re there, in bed, reading a book or simply listening to the rain when he suddenly drops his notebook next to him and turns toward you.

"It’s strange... I never imagined I could feel so... calm," he says softly, as if evaluating his own feelings. He, the man who has devoted his life to science, to logic, somehow can’t explain how your presence makes him feel something he’s never experienced before. You try not to show it, but the tone of his voice reaches your heart.

Little by little, he approaches, moving cautiously, as if every gesture were a meditation. He doesn’t make abrupt moves. His hands, usually cold from being surrounded by machinery, are now gentle when they touch the side of your arm. It’s a timid touch, almost as if he fears invading your space. But you understand, because you know that, inside, he still struggles to trust these simple, human moments.

"Is it alright if...?" He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he lets the silence ask everything. His eyes, somewhat tired but filled with a serenity only you can provoke, look at you with a mix of desire and fear. It’s a constant game of insecurity in his mind: Should he get closer? Would he make you uncomfortable if he does? But there’s no need for words between the two of you, just the silent language of gestures. You, as always, understand without explanations.

Without saying anything, you move toward him, allowing your body to communicate what words cannot. Viktor sighs in relief, his shoulders relaxing, and once he’s next to you, he settles in, making sure not to invade your personal space completely. His fingers, without thinking, search for your hands and gently interlace them, almost as if it were an automatic act.

"How can you be so close to me without...?" His words fade into the air as your eyes meet his. He doesn’t need to say more; you know he’s acknowledging what he’s never been able to admit: the fear of closeness. The fear of losing control, of losing you. But in that moment, the only thing that matters to him is being close to you.

"It’s just a touch, Viktor," you murmur, with a soft smile. Your tone is calm, without hurry, with the same tranquility he needs. And without thinking, he pulls you a little closer, letting the distance that has always existed between the two of you fade away. His breathing becomes slower, as if simply having you close gives him a sense of peace that nothing else has provided.

"I need you here," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, as if the idea of having you near is an anchor for his constantly occupied mind, always worried about the next breakthrough, the next experiment. But not today. Today, he only needs you.

As you both settle into the bed, a light draft of cold air enters through the window, but Viktor, almost instinctively, makes sure the blanket covers both of you. In his eyes, there’s a sense of protection, of wanting to take care of you even without saying it. As he settles in, his fingers find your hair, caressing it gently, feeling the texture, as if each movement were a way to calm himself.

At first, he stays still, focused on the sound of your breathing, on how your body relaxes in his arms. But as the minutes pass, he begins to lose himself in the warmth of your closeness. His hand moves to your waist, seeking not just physical warmth, but a little emotional comfort as well. Those small gestures, which for him seem simple, carry much more weight: he’s letting you in.

"I never thought something so simple could mean so much," he says, almost in a whisper. It’s such a simple comment, but it’s laden with emotion. A moment when science and logic fade away, and all that remains is human connection, the bond that is built over time.

Minutes turn into hours. Viktor, finally, falls into a deep sleep, his body slightly tilted toward you. He had always been the one willing to give everything for the future, for Piltover, for science. But that night, the future doesn’t matter as much. What matters is what’s in front of him. And what’s in front of him is you, calmly resting in his arms.

When he wakes up, your eyes meet his, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Good morning," he says, as if this small act of waking up together were something incredibly grand. And, in a way, it is.

Jinx

The flickering light of the neon lamps gently trembles in the air as she, with her boundless energy, is in her world, completely immersed in whatever has caught her attention at that moment.

Sitting on the bed, Jinx shakes a strange object she just got, making "bang, bang" noises with her mouth while pointing it at the mirror, her reflection smiling back with that deranged grin you know so well. Suddenly, she throws you a defiant glance, as if challenging you to enter her chaotic world.

"Come on, aren't you going to say anything?! I'm a destruction machine, wooow!" She laughs hysterically, clearly enjoying the moment.

You, watching her, can't help but laugh too, though in a more calm way, feeling that mix of affection and concern for her. You know that behind that laugh and overflowing energy, there's something deeper, something that sometimes gets lost among the explosions of her inner chaos.

At first, you try to let her do her thing, but you know the night is already quite late, and Jinx is far from ready to sleep. The chaos continues to spread around her, and despite your desire to sleep, you know that if you don’t act, there will be no way for her to calm down. So you decide to approach.

"Hey, sweets," you say softly, your tone calm but firm. "Don’t you think it’s time to rest a bit?"

Jinx turns toward you, her eyes shining with excitement. "No, no! I’m not tired! I don’t need to sleep... Not until you find something as incredible as... this!" And in a burst, she jumps to the other side of the bed and starts spinning around like a child, throwing objects into the air.

You know you won’t convince her with words. You get up with a patient smile and quickly reach her. "You’ll have to put that down for a moment. I promise we’ll have all the fun you want tomorrow," you say, moving slowly to give her a gentle tap on the shoulder, trying to gain her attention in a softer way.

But Jinx doesn’t listen. She stops for a second, looks at you sideways, and throws another object, as if challenging your patience. "I don’t want tomorrow! I want everything to explode now!"

This is the moment when you know you need to be more than gentle. You approach her with a calm smile, but one full of determination, and take her hand. "Baby," you say, now looking directly into her eyes, "I know you like chaos, but you also need to rest. Would you like...?" You pause, the idea of calming both of you down seems almost unreal, but you know it's what she needs most. "If you cuddle here with me, maybe we could rest for a bit? Just a little while, so tomorrow you'll be full of energy for all your crazy ideas."

Jinx watches you for a moment, her eyes shining with something between doubt and curiosity. "You... with me?" The idea seems strange to her, but something in your soft tone makes her stop, her body relaxing for a second.

Without saying more, she slowly moves toward you, her energy suddenly calmed by your presence. "No... I’m not tired, but... I can try," she murmurs. It’s strange to see Jinx so vulnerable, her impulsive attitude and need for attention seemingly subdued for a moment.

You let her get closer, and the moment she settles by your side, you feel that overwhelming desire to take care of her. Jinx settles into the bed, seeking your closeness as if, in some way, your presence is her refuge. She quickly cuddles up to you, without thinking twice, searching for the warmth that, for some reason, only you can give her. The chaotic energy from before begins to slowly fade as she embraces you.

"Promise, okay?" she whispers, her voice softer now, a tone you haven’t heard all day. Jinx snuggles even closer, her head resting on your chest, searching for that peace she so desperately needs, even though she won’t admit it.

"Yes, promise," you respond, gently stroking her hair, feeling how her tension gradually dissipates. It’s curious how, amid all her chaos and madness, simply being there with her, the calm begins to emerge.

Jinx sighs, and in that moment, all the noise and explosions from her mind seem to fade away. Her breathing becomes slower, more relaxed. You have her there, in your arms, so vulnerable, so unique. This is the moment when the chaos shuts off, and only she remains, with you.

"You’re... weird," she murmurs as she settles against you, already almost asleep, but with a little smile on her face. "I never thought I’d sleep so peacefully... thanks," she adds, and for the first time, her words aren’t a joke. It’s a sincere thank you, even wrapped in that strange way Jinx knows how to be.

You stay there, stroking her hair, feeling how she gradually falls asleep.

Vi

Vi is not one of those people who can sleep immediately. No matter how tired she is, she always has something on her mind or at least something she wants to do before giving in.

You find yourself sitting on the bed, already in your pajamas, wearing one of Vi's old t-shirts and your black underwear, the ones Vi used to love. You have a book in your hands, and as you flip through the pages, you watch as Vi stays in "active mode," rummaging through the drawer of the nightstand. She's wearing a sleeveless shirt and dark shorts. She glances at you from the corner of her eye, noticing your calmness.

"Don’t you want to sleep or what?" Vi asks with that cheeky smile on her face. You know that for her, the concept of "relaxing" is still something she's trying to understand. But it makes you smile.

"Yeah, sure. I'm just reading for a bit before bed," you reply, not taking your eyes off the book.

Vi sits next to you on the bed, giving you a sideways glance before flopping onto the pillow. "Pfff, reading? You’re always so chill… I, on the other hand, am already dying of sleep... But… I don’t wanna sleep yet."

It’s then that she turns to face you, a slight grimace of discomfort crossing her face. "You know what I want? I want you to cuddle me," she says. And although her tone is playful, you can hear the genuine tiredness in her voice. You know that Vi has a steel personality, but even she can’t escape the embrace of calmness when she feels safe. And apparently, that safe place is with you.

Without thinking much, you smile and adjust yourself on the bed, opening your arms to welcome her. Vi doesn't waste a second, immediately nestling against your side with a satisfied smile. "I thought you didn’t want to sleep," you tease softly.

"Too much talk," she responds, resting her body against yours, her shoulders pressed against yours, her breath near your neck. "Just let me be here for a few minutes."

Vi rests her head on your chest, and you relax, feeling how she snuggles in closer. The touch of her skin against yours and the way she settles, fitting perfectly, makes everything feel comfortable and natural.

"You know what the best part of all this is?" she asks, her voice soft but with that playful spark that never leaves her. "Having you here next to me, with those panties that drive me crazy. Why are you so sexy, babe? It's not fair to my mental health." She chuckles, her fingers shamelessly tracing the lace of your underwear.

"You’re also too sexy, babe, sometimes way too much. Look at those abs, they’re like steel," you reply, gently touching her delicious and muscular abdomen as you look at her, realizing how easy it is to make her blush with something so simple.

Then, you take control of the moment and hold her a little tighter, enjoying the closeness and how her body gradually relaxes in your arms. Vi remains restless, but as the minutes pass, her movements become gentler. A couple of times, you hear her mumble something, but it’s nothing coherent, just sounds that let you know she’s falling into a state of relaxation, the one she rarely shows others.

"Hey, why don’t you stop moving?" you gently complain, although you know Vi is always like this, even when she's tired. But you make a small adjustment, settling her between your arms and whispering in her ear. "Relax. You’re safe here."

At first, Vi doesn’t know what to do with your words. But after a few seconds of silence, she responds in a calm, low tone. "Alright, alright. I’m here." And with that, her eyes slowly close.

It’s curious, because even in the simplest moments, Vi has her own way of relaxing, but it’s never like what you’d expect. She feels more comfortable when she's close to you, when she can be by your side without needing to always be alert. Slowly, her breathing becomes deeper and more relaxed.

In that moment, you start to notice that the book you had started reading no longer interests you. With a small sigh, you let Vi settle in your arms, and she falls asleep with a smile on her face. You watch her, gently stroking her hair, feeling that in her arms, though strong, there is a peace you hadn’t seen before.

Caitlyn

The night has fallen, and the hectic workday has finally come to an end. It's time to relax, and as always, you have your little nightly ritual with Caitlyn. After dinner, you both get up, stretching lightly after the meal, while Caitlyn gives you a look that clearly knows what's coming next.

"Shall we brush our teeth?" Caitlyn asks with a calm smile as she heads toward the bathroom. You follow her, leaving the table clean and quiet, the silence of the night surrounding you both.

In the bathroom, you both stand in front of the mirror. Caitlyn looks at you in her reflection, her hair still tied up in a soft ponytail. "I think I'm winning in speed," she says playfully, but you just smile while brushing your teeth. It's a simple moment, but one of those that becomes part of the everyday, like a small shared gesture of complicity.

After a few minutes, you finish brushing your teeth, and Caitlyn, always with a little more patience, takes her time.

When she finishes, Caitlyn opens her drawer carefully and pulls out matching pajamas: a cotton set, comfortable, in dark tones, but with small embroidered details, as if you'd chosen it especially for her. You look at it, smiling to yourself.

"Another night with matching pajamas, huh?" you say as you put yours on, and Caitlyn can't help but laugh.

"I know, I know," Caitlyn responds, with that soft but amused look. "It's kind of silly, but I like it. It's our tradition."

It's a simple gesture, but it carries a deep meaning: amid all the problems that surround both of you, finding these small moments together is what truly makes it all worthwhile. Caitlyn gives you a knowing look as she watches you finish putting on your pajamas, a kind of silent challenge to see who fits the set better. She always teases you a little because she knows how much you enjoy seeing her in these quiet moments, and how well she looks in the set.

You both finish getting dressed and head to the bed, the silence being replaced by a shared calm. Caitlyn slides under the covers, settling carefully, but as always, she looks at you first, waiting for you to take the initiative.

"You know," Caitlyn murmurs, turning to look at you, "the usual. I think that position is the best for sleeping." Her tone is low, with a slight smile.

Without saying another word, you position yourself behind her, wrapping a strong arm around her, the small curve of her body against yours. Sometimes, it feels like the whole world disappears when you embrace her, when the warmth of her body mixes with yours. Caitlyn curls up between your arms, knowing exactly how to position herself so that the feeling of safety is mutual.

"It's a good way to end the day," Caitlyn whispers, settling into your embrace as her hands lightly grasp yours, seeking the physical contact that she knows calms her. You love how she lets go in these moments, leaving behind the strong and determined woman who can handle anything, and becoming that person who, at the end of the day, just needs the comfort of your arms to feel good.

Your arm wraps around her waist firmly, while you, being the dominant one in this moment, hold her protectively, your body aligned behind hers, letting her hair fall softly over your chest. "I’ve got you," you say quietly, almost like a whisper, and Caitlyn responds with a soft sigh, letting go completely in your arms. In that instant, it's as if the world shrinks down to just the two of you, to that embrace which is the only thing that matters at that moment.

Caitlyn turns her head slightly, seeking your lips to steal a gentle kiss, while your fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, as if you wanted to make sure that, for once, everything is right. "I love you," she whispers against your lips, with a tone more vulnerable than the whole day.

You both remain silent for a few minutes, just the sound of shared breathing in the room. Those moments of tranquility are worth more than anything.

Jayce

The night slowly falls over Piltover, and after a long day of work, Jayce finally arrives home, a slight furrow on his brow. He's always thinking about the next project, the next invention, or the last tweak to his latest creation, and the idea of resting seems to be the last thing on his mind. But this time, there’s something different, something that makes his step slower as he arrives home: you.

You, in your comfortable pajamas, waiting for him with a cup of tea in your hands and a couple of blankets on the bed. The simple act of seeing you seems to disarm him. "Today was... long," he says with a tired smile, removing his work cape, revealing what looks like his more comfortable clothes for the night: a simple cotton T-shirt and long pants. But despite his fatigue, his eyes meet yours, and a long sigh escapes his chest.

"I can tell," you respond with a gentle smile, welcoming him. You know that Jayce is someone who doesn’t know how to completely relax, and that gives you a little challenge every night.

After a day filled with ideas and thoughts, Jayce approaches you and sits on the bed. "You know how to make work feel less heavy," he comments, looking at your cup of tea, always one of your quick fixes to calm him down.

With a touch of tenderness, you offer him the cup. "This will help," you say, noticing how his shoulders drop slightly when he takes the first sip. "I promise. Tonight, you rest, love."

He looks at you for a moment, skeptical, but can’t help but smile at how warm your smile is. He finally gives in and lays down. As you watch him, you know Jayce is always the first to want to take control, but in this space, it’s your turn to guide him.

When Jayce comes out of the shower, he lies down next to you on the bed. He feels a bit more relaxed, but you can still see that his mind is running at full speed. You know this is the perfect moment to make him truly unwind.

"Would you like me to read something for you?" you ask softly, with a look full of tenderness. Even though he doesn’t say it directly, you know that sometimes Jayce just needs to disconnect and be carried away by a peaceful story, something to take him away from the constant pressure of innovation.

"You know, you make me feel like a kid?" he replies with a playful smile, but his tone is softer than usual, as if he really appreciates the gesture. "But, yes. I’d like that."

You settle beside him, opening the book you always keep on hand for these moments. It’s nothing too elaborate, just a light novel you know helps him disconnect. As you read aloud, Jayce settles into the pillow, eyes closed, listening to your voice. Occasionally, he looks at you, but his eyes aren’t as full of tension as before. In fact, he feels lighter, more at ease.

When you finish reading the chapter, you know it’s time to take the next step. Jayce is always a bit reluctant to the idea of sleeping, because he feels there’s always more to do, but you don’t let him go. "Now, relax. You’re fine," you tell him as you curl up behind him.

Jayce turns toward you, and at that moment, without planning it, you position yourself next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You adjust yourself so that he’s leaning against your chest while you wrap a strong arm around his torso protectively. He’s a bit surprised, but doesn’t say anything, letting the contact envelop him with a warmth that, for the first time all day, makes him feel like he doesn’t have to be in control.

"Is this okay?" you ask, your voice low and calm, as you gently caress his back, making sure he’s comfortable.

"Yes... It’s... perfect," he whispers, finally relaxing. It’s not something he says often, but you know that, in these moments, he really lets go. You continue to softly stroke his back, letting him stay in your arms, relieved by your presence.

Jayce falls asleep quickly, without trying to escape your embrace. His breaths are soft and deep, and for the first time, he seems to find some peace. You, however, stay awake a little longer, watching how his face, so full of determination during the day, is now serene in your arms.

Ekko

Ekko curls up on his side of the bed, but he's not ready to sleep. You know he has an energy that doesn't turn off easily, and as always, you're about to see that playful side of him.

"Did you know we're supposed to be sleeping now? We've got important stuff to handle tomorrow," you say, settling between the sheets, but glancing at him, hoping he'll relax.

Ekko, always with a mischievous smile, gives you a playful, challenging look from his side of the bed. "Sleep? Nah, I thought you were staying awake with me for a bit," he says, quickly reaching over to your pillow and tapping you with it.

"What are you doing?" you ask, laughing, knowing this can only end one way: a little pillow fight.

"Nothing, just seeing if you have a good defense," Ekko shrugs, giving you a teasing look before lifting himself slightly off his bed, ready to continue his attack.

Before you can react, Ekko taps you on the head with the pillow, and you can't help but let out an incredulous laugh. "Hey!" you protest, diving toward him with your own pillow in hand. The air fills with laughter and the sound of pillows hitting everything in their path.

"That's not fair!" you exclaim while trying to defend yourself, but Ekko is agile, always anticipating your moves. Somehow, he dodges your strike, and with a cheeky smile, taps you on the shoulder.

"Ah, I'm done being the good guy!" he says with a playful tone, getting up to attack you once again, but this time, he slides behind you with a move that leaves you unable to do anything.

"No!" you laugh as you try to turn around, but as always, Ekko outplays you. With one last pillow strike, the battle ends with both of you laughing, messy in the bed, the air filled with the fun energy he always brings.

For a moment, everything goes silent, both of you breathing heavily. Ekko, however, can't help but let out a satisfied laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Never underestimate my skills," he says, settling more comfortably on the pillow and stretching a little. But now, his tone has shifted to something softer, more relaxed, like that little burst of energy was what he needed to truly unwind.

"Please, I was about to beat you. You're out of your league," you respond with a mischievous smile, getting comfortable again in the bed.

But before you can say anything more, Ekko gives you a tender look, and with a gentle impulse, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a hug with a more peaceful smile. "That was fun, huh?" he asks, and in his voice, you can hear the more relaxed tone that makes you smile.

You, feeling the softness of his embrace, can't help but laugh again. "I'll admit it, I had fun. But you won't beat me so easily next time. You caught me off guard, that was practically cheating."

"Are you done crying?" he jokes with a sideways smile.

But before you can say anything, Ekko has another mischievous idea in mind. In the blink of an eye, his fingers are at your side, giving you a little poke with the tips of his fingers. It's nothing you couldn't have anticipated.

"No, no, no!" you shout, laughing, but it's too late. Ekko has already started tickling your stomach, a quick move that makes you squirm and laugh with all your might. "Ekko, stop! I swear I'll kill you!"

But he doesn't relent, knowing exactly where your weak spots are. "What, have you already surrendered?" he says, enjoying every laugh that escapes your lips. Your hands try to push his away, but you can't stop laughing in the silliest way, a mix of fun and surprise.

"I can't... stop... laughing!" you manage to say between gasps of laughter.

After a few seconds, he finally stops, seeing how comical you look with your red face and flushed cheeks from all the laughter.

"See? You can't beat me at anything," he says, smiling as if he's won the battle, even though both of you know that, in reality, no one is winning or losing.

"I hate you!" you say between laughs, but the tone is entirely playful, with no malice. And when you try to catch your breath, his fingers finally move away from your stomach, and his hands fall softly to your sides.

The mood shifts quickly, and the laughter fades into a sigh. Ekko, still smiling, settles closer to you, his eyes now softer, less playful, and much more affectionate.

"Admit I'm better than you," he says, though it's clear he enjoys the way you've given yourself to the moment.

"Never," you reply with a smile, unable to stop looking at him, feeling how the warmth between you both grows even more.

In a calm movement, Ekko slowly leans in, bringing his face closer to yours. His eyes, always so full of energy, now shine with an unexpected sweetness. No words are needed; you both feel what's about to happen. And before you can say anything, he kisses you, gently, in a slow way that takes you by surprise.

It's a soft kiss, full of affection, as if he's saying that the good things in life are these little shared moments, like this one, without any worries. The kiss is brief, but enough for all the noise of the pillow fight to fade, leaving only a peaceful hum between you two.

When you finally pull apart, both of you lie in silence for a moment, feeling how the warmth of Ekko's closeness wraps around you. He looks at you with tenderness, and you respond with a relaxed smile, as if, in this moment, the whole world could wait.

"You need to improve your techniques, babe, I'm getting tired of winning all the time," he whispers, and his words make you laugh softly, because you know that, in that instant, the only thing that matters is that you're together, sharing something beyond jokes and tickling.

Finally, you settle back into the bed, and Ekko snuggles up next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. Legs intertwined, you both feel calmer, safer. The space between you is no longer filled with laughter or games, but with a comfortable, comforting peace. Your breaths sync as sleep begins to approach, but not before exchanging one last look, one that says more than words ever could.

"Good night, loser," Ekko says with a playful grin.

"Good night, cheater," you reply, gently stroking his arm, while you both stay there, surrounded by the warmth that only comes from being with someone you truly understand.

Silco

The candlelight flickers gently in the room, illuminating the hard contours of Silco as he settles into the armchair near the bed. The atmosphere is thick with the kind of tension that only exists between two people who share something complicated, yet, at the same time, seek comfort in each other's presence. The room is silent, almost as if the outside world doesn't matter in this moment.

Silco, with his cold, calculating gaze, watches you from the corner of his eye as you prepare for bed, moving through the room with a calmness that, though peaceful, carries an enveloping energy. He doesn't speak much, but his presence is intense.

"You're not going to sleep?" you ask softly, slipping into your pajamas with a curious gesture. Silco isn't known for his ease in relaxing, and you've noticed that he often needs a push to let go of his constant vigilance.

Silco, without looking away, replies in his low, gravelly voice, "Don't you know I'm not one for sleep?" It's a typical comment from him, one that, in other moments, you would have taken as a barrier. But this time, there's something more. Something that draws you closer.

"I know, but we all need rest, even you," you say as you approach the bed. Without waiting any longer, you lie down on the mattress, feeling the softness of the sheets around you. Despite Silco's distant demeanor, you know he's watching every move you make. There's something in his gaze that says he can't help but care, even if he doesn't voice it.

After a few moments, he rises from his chair and steps toward you, his movements deliberate but slower, as though he's weighing each step. The air becomes a bit heavier, yet more comfortable.

"I don't need rest," he says, but his voice is less firm now. It's almost as if he's speaking more to convince himself than to you.

You look at him, noticing the small gestures that betray him. The way his eyes, usually so cold, soften when he looks at you. He looks like a puppy asking for affection. You decide to take the initiative, sitting up a little to move closer to him. At this moment, it doesn't feel like a power struggle, but more like an invitation to something more personal.

"You and I both know that's not true," you murmur, offering him a calm, almost reassuring smile.

He doesn't respond immediately but takes a step toward you. For a second, the silence between you both seems heavier, and for an instant, you think he might pull away. But instead, he takes hold of your wrist with a firm, yet gentle hand. His fingers close softly around your skin, as if it's the only way he knows how to communicate.

"I don't need you to take care of me," he says, though his tone isn't as certain.

But you don't pull away. "I never said you would. But I want to," you respond, and in that moment, you can see his expression soften, even if only for a brief second. Silco isn't someone used to receiving this kind of affection, yet here he is, allowing you to touch him.

He sits on the bed beside you, saying no more, but there's a sense of understanding between you. As if the simple act of both of you being in the same room, together, was enough to create a deeper connection. Somehow, neither of you need words to understand that something more exists between you two, something that even he can't deny.

Finally, he lies beside you, but not in the way you might expect from someone who usually keeps their distance. His posture is stiff, but close, his body aligned with yours, even though his eyes remain alert, as if waiting for something to happen.

Then, without thinking too much, you move closer and wrap your arms around him, hugging him protectively. Silco seems surprised for a moment, but doesn't pull away. Instead, there's a moment where his breathing slows, becomes more measured, and you can feel his body, so tense inside, begin to relax. His nose buries into your hair, inhaling your sweet fragrance.

"I'm not going to let you face the world alone," you whisper, and Silco, despite himself, doesn't reply, but his hand rests gently on your back, as if letting the calmness finally take over him.

After a few seconds, his lips brush your forehead in a gesture so soft it surprises you. "You're foolish," he says, but there's no malice in his voice. Just a quiet acceptance of what's happening between the two of you.

You settle down beside him, and his hands wrap around your waist in a nearly protective manner, as if wanting to pull you even closer. At this moment, Silco, the man who’s always preferred to maintain distance, doesn’t need anything more than this simple gesture of closeness.

"Good night," you murmur softly, holding him just a little tighter.

"Good night," he replies, his voice gentler, before falling into silence. You both lie there, intertwined in the darkness, needing no more words. The world outside can wait; in this moment, it's just the two of you.

Mel

Mel sits on the bed, her back straight but her shoulders relaxed as she watches you prepare for the end of the day.

The day has been long, but now that you're together, everything seems to slow down, as if only this small space of peace exists. The sound of the wind seeps through the slightly open window, and for a moment, Mel allows herself to rest, away from the demands of the outside world.

"I owe you an apology," she says softly, as her fingers glide through her curly, voluminous hair, slightly messy from the day. "I had no idea how much being distant from all this was affecting you." Mel hasn't slept at home for days; she's been too busy with work and hadn't spent too much time with you lately.

The look in her eyes reflects a mix of vulnerability and gratitude, and even though Mel doesn't express it aloud, you know she's grateful for your presence. You know this is an important moment for her.

"Don't worry about that now. This is a good time to relax," you reply, smiling softly as you move closer to her. With a smile, Mel lets herself fall back onto the pillow, closing her eyes as if she can finally let go of that constant perfection she always maintains.

You sit next to her, silently taking a wide-toothed comb from the nearby table, specialized for curly hair. Mel stays still, trusting you completely as you take a strand of her thick, tightly curled hair. You begin to gently untangle it, careful not to damage her curls, every movement meticulous, an act of love and patience. The sound of small pulls is soft, and you can see how Mel closes her eyes in response to the touch.

"I'll never get tired of this," she murmurs, her tone relaxed as you let the comb pass slowly through the curls that, though naturally voluminous, are soft to the touch. Each strand seems to move with a life of its own, and the scent of her shampoo mixes with the calm of the atmosphere.

With each step, the tangles and knots unravel, and Mel seems to sink deeper into the tranquility of your movements, her breathing becoming slower and more relaxed. After a few minutes, her hair is completely free of knots, and you can see how her mane takes on its natural form, falling into thick, perfectly defined curls that cascade down her back softly.

"I love how you make me feel," she confesses quietly, turning her head toward you, her eyes shining with warmth that she doesn't always show the world.

"It's my pleasure, Miss Medarda," you reply, giving her a sincere smile as you continue brushing her hair. The intimacy of the situation doesn't escape you; it's not just a beauty ritual, but a gesture that shows how much she trusts you.

Once you're done brushing her hair, you take a scented cream from the table. With delicate hands, you begin to apply it to her shoulders, rubbing gently to relax each tense muscle. The sweet, floral scent of the cream mixes with the room's atmosphere, wrapping the space in a sense of warmth and softness. As you work, Mel's skin becomes even softer, and you feel the tension in her body start to dissipate.

"This is so perfect. I don't know what I'd do without you, without your magic hands," Mel whispers, letting out a low laugh, almost as if she's discovering the peace that only you can give her.

"You don't have to worry, neither I nor my magic hands are going anywhere," you reply gently, enjoying the moment. Mel's closeness, her trust in you, makes you feel like you're part of something deeply intimate.

Once you're finished with the cream, Mel settles back into the bed, and you follow, slipping under the sheets with her. The room remains enveloped in silence, but now there's a sense of comfort surrounding you. Mel snuggles next to you, her head resting on your chest as she settles into your arms.

"Thank you for all of this," she says softly, as if it's a whisper just for you. "Today was a long day, but with you, it feels much shorter."

"It's the least I can do," you reply, holding her a little tighter, seeking the warmth of her body. You both settle in the bed, with Mel wrapping her arm around your torso. You feel how her breathing becomes slower and deeper, as if she's letting go of all the weight she carries on her shoulders.

Sevika

The room was dimly lit, with the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. The cool air in the room wasn’t enough to counter the heat radiating from Sevika. You found yourself tangled up with her, your naked bodies under the same blanket, but somehow, the quilt always ended up on Sevika's side, leaving you exposed to the cold air.

It was a routine that repeated itself. Sometimes, her carelessness when it came to sleeping made you smile, but this time, the cold started to seep into your bones. The breeze caressed your skin, and you curled up more, searching for warmth. But Sevika, unaware of your discomfort, stayed pressed to her side of the bed, invading your space with her large body.

As the minutes passed, the warmth of her skin became overwhelming. The weight of her body on top of yours, though pleasant, started to become too much, leaving little room to breathe. Her deep and steady breathing lulled you, but gradually, you realized the air was getting thicker and you were running out of space.

"Babe..." you murmured softly, trying to move her arm that was resting over you. She didn’t respond. "You're covering me completely... I can't breathe."

The only movement she made was a low sigh. She didn’t seem aware of how much she was crushing you. You raised your voice a little more, with a hint of complaint in your tone, pushing her shoulder.

"Sevika... seriously, you're suffocating me," you protested, trying unsuccessfully to push her away.

Finally, Sevika stretched and mumbled something incomprehensible in her sleep. The quilt had completely disappeared to her side, and you were trapped, frozen in the middle of the bed. Frustrated and with desire building up, you decided to push her more firmly.

Sevika finally woke up, her large body lifting slightly as her gaze focused on you. The spark in her eyes ignited instantly, and she moved toward you with a sideways grin that made it clear she had already noticed your discomfort.

"What's wrong? Complaining about something else, little one?" Her voice was low and rough, laced with a touch of teasing, but also something more.

You felt her body slowly slide toward you, as if she somehow knew exactly how to get you back under her control. Without much you could do to stop it, Sevika moved over you, her body perfectly fitting against yours, pressing you gently into the bed. The sensation was... contradictory, both uncomfortable and delicious.

"Does it bother you that I’m getting this close?" she murmured, her face so close to yours that you could feel her warm breath.

The weight of her body covered you completely, leaving you breathless and immobile. For a moment, all you could do was look at her, noticing the way her eyes sparkled with a glint of provocation.

"What are you going to do about it?" Her voice became a seductive whisper as one of her arms wrapped around you, pinning you in place.

Her size was imposing, but instead of overwhelming you, there was a sense of protection in her proximity. Even though you knew she was dominating you, you also felt an invisible connection between you both, a spark that intensified the desire to be closer, to explore that space you had created together.

Sevika tilted her head toward you, her breathing faster. However, she didn’t rush. Her gaze was fixed on yours, intense and confident, knowing she had you under her control but also savoring the tension you both had built.

"Are you tired of me kissing you every time you complain?" she asked with a teasing smile before slowly lowering herself to your lips.

The brush of her lips against yours was soft, almost as if she were testing you, but the desire between you both became undeniable. The intensity of her kiss grew as you clung to her, feeling her body surround you, confident and firm, but at the same time, incredibly tender.

As the kiss deepened, Sevika pulled back slightly, but her gaze never lost its intensity, direct and unwavering, as if she were exposing parts of you she had never seen before.

Finally, the cold seemed to vanish under the weight of her body, the heat of her presence filling you and burning under your skin. The blankets that had bothered you no longer mattered. The air seemed enough as the two of you submerged into the warmth of the night and each other's embrace, still carrying the lingering challenge between you both.

[secretmaniacc]

RIDE OR DIE

Parings: The salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: Two fierce recruiters, locked in a heated rivalry over who can secure the most players, strike an unusual deal: whoever wins the next recruit gets to drag the other out to dinner. But when tempers flare and egos clash, their “game” turns into a battle of wits, slaps, and simmering tension. What starts as a simple challenge spirals into something far more unpredictable—because in their world, nothing ever goes as planned.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, dom!salesman x baddie oc, teasing, work rivals, kissing, fingering sex, mentions of blood, slapping, maybe something else that I don’t remember.

Wc: 5.4k

A/n: this is my first post and idk how do you use tumblr and I can’t even add warnings cuz idk what should I warn about but I hope y’all can enjoy wtv the hell I wrote, English isn’t my first language so no attacking. Not proofread. This is so bad ik.

The dimly lit café hummed with quiet chatter, the occasional clatter of cups breaking the tension in the air. She adjusted her sunglasses, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned forward, her fingers tapping softly against the edge of the table. The man seated across from her was sweating through his cheap dress shirt, his eyes darting nervously to the plain white envelope she'd slid toward him just moments ago.

"Inside that envelope," she began, her voice calm but charged with intent, "is the answer to all your problems. Every overdue bill, every phone call you're dodging, every sleepless night. All gone."

He hesitated, staring at the envelope like it might bite him. "I don't know... I mean, this doesn't sound—"

"—legal?" she finished for him, leaning back casually. She tilted her head, the smirk widening. "You'd be right. It's not. But when has that ever stopped you before?"

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Bingo, she thought, watching him flounder. That reaction told her everything she needed to know.

"Think about it," she pressed, her voice dropping an octave, almost a whisper. "A few games. A few hours. And then you walk away with enough money to start fresh. No more debt. No more hiding."

He reached for the envelope, his hand trembling. But just as his fingertips brushed the edge of it—

A familiar voice cut through the air. "Amateur move, don't you think?"

Her eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Only one person could manage to sound both smug and bored in the same sentence.

"Go away," she said flatly, her tone ice-cold.

But of course, he didn't.

"I mean, honestly," the salesman continued, sliding into the booth beside the man like he owned the place. "Laying it all out like that? Where's the finesse? The mystery? The intrigue?"

She finally turned her head, pushing her sunglasses down just enough to meet his eyes. "Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

"Not when I'm right," he replied, flashing her that infuriatingly cocky smile.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and gave him a sweet, fake smile in return. "Right about what? Annoying the hell out of me? Congratulations, you've mastered the art."

The man between them shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting from her to the salesman and back again. "Uh, I should probably—"

"You're not going anywhere," she said sharply, cutting him off. She reached for the envelope and slid it back toward the man with deliberate slowness, her gaze never leaving the salesman. "You want to talk about finesse? Fine. Let's talk about your pitch. What is it this time? Another mysterious slap game in the subway? Real creative."

He laughed, the sound low and easy, and leaned back in the booth. "What can I say? It works."

"Until it doesn't," she shot back.

"Why don't we let him decide?" he countered, gesturing to the man, who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

She turned her attention back to her target, her expression softening. "You want to trust him? Go ahead. But let me ask you this: When he disappears into thin air after taking his cut, who's going to be there to clean up the mess? Not him."

The salesman's grin faltered, just for a second, but it was enough to make her smirk.

"Fine," he said, standing abruptly and brushing imaginary lint off his suit jacket. "He's all yours. Let's see if your little sob story gets him to bite."

"Gladly," she replied, leaning back with a victorious gleam in her eyes.

But as he turned to leave, he leaned in close, just enough for his breath to brush against her ear. "Next time, sweetheart, try not to play so dirty. It's almost cute how hard you're trying to beat me."

She didn't flinch, didn't react, even as her grip tightened on the edge of the table. He chuckled softly and walked away, leaving her with the trembling man and the lingering scent of his cologne.

"You should take the deal," she said finally, sliding the envelope across the table one last time. "Before someone else comes along and makes it worse for you."

This time, he took it without hesitation.

As she left the café, she spotted the salesman leaning casually against a lamppost outside, twirling a coin between his fingers.

"You owe me," she called out, not breaking stride.

"For what?"

"For not strangling you in there."

His laugh followed her down the street, a sound that stuck in her head longer than she cared to admit.

Next day

She pushed the door to the briefing room open with a little more force than necessary, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. He was already there, of course, leaning back in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table like he owned the place. The sight made her want to turn around and walk right back out.

The office reeked of stale coffee and carried the faint metallic tang of the envelopes they used to seal people's fates. Spotting their shared desk, she sauntered over and dropped into her chair, leaning back with a casual air. Her red-tipped nails drummed a steady rhythm against the table, a small but deliberate sound to break the silence.

"So," she started, her voice smooth but sharp enough to cut, "how many desperate souls did you con into signing today?"

"You're late," he drawled, not even bothering to glance up from the notepad he was scribbling on, "I've already got a head start."

She ignored him, tossing her clipboard onto the table with a loud thwack. "Four recruits," she announced, while sitting in the chair across from him.

That got his attention. He arched an eyebrow, finally glancing up. "Four? That's cute."

Her lips twitched, but she kept her expression neutral. "Better than your three."

The smug grin he'd been wearing all evening faltered for a split second, and the sight was immensely satisfying. He quickly recovered, sitting up straighter and folding his arms over his chest. "Who says I only got three?"

"I saw you at the station earlier," she shot back. "Your guy ran off before you could even give him the envelope."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," he said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "He came back. Took the bait. Easy money."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge whether he was bluffing. With him, it was impossible to tell. He could sell a lie as easily as breathing, and she hated how good he was at it.

"Let's see the proof, then," she said, gesturing to his notepad.

He hesitated, just long enough for her to pounce.

"Liar," she said smugly, leaning back in her chair.

"Fine," he admitted, tossing the notepad onto the table. "Three. But mine were quality recruits. You're probably scraping the bottom of the barrel as usual."

She bristled at that, her fingers curling into fists under the table. "Quality? The last guy you brought in was a drunk who passed out halfway through the first game."

"And he still made it further than your little college dropout," he countered.

"That dropout lasted three games," she snapped. "And he made us more money than any of your recruits ever have."

"Us?" He laughed, the sound low and mocking. "Sweetheart, there is no 'us.' This is a solo game, remember? And right now, you're losing."

The word sweetheart grated against her nerves, but she forced herself to stay calm. She wasn't about to let him see how much he was getting under her skin.

"Keep telling yourself that," she said coolly, pulling out a pen and jotting down the day's numbers on her clipboard. "Meanwhile, I'll be over here actually doing my job."

He watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached across the table and snatched the clipboard out of her hands.

"Hey!" she protested, but he held it just out of her reach, flipping through the pages with a smug grin.

"Let's see... Ah, there it is," he said, tapping the page with the end of her pen. "Four names. Not bad. But you forgot to include the part where they all looked ready to bolt the second you left."

She lunged for the clipboard, but he pulled it back again, chuckling under his breath. "Careful now," he teased. "Wouldn't want to make a scene, would we?"

She glared at him, her jaw tightening. "Give it back."

"Say please."

"Go to hell."

He laughed again, but this time, he relented, sliding the clipboard across the table. She snatched it up, smoothing the crumpled pages with deliberate care.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" she muttered, not bothering to look at him.

"And yet, you keep coming back," he replied, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

She bit back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her composure. Instead, she focused on her clipboard, pretending he didn't exist.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he broke it.

"You know, you're lucky you have me as competition."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Because I keep you on your toes," he said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Admit it. If it weren't for me, this job would be boring as hell."

"Boring?" she repeated, her tone icy. "You think ruining people's lives is boring?"

"Don't get all self-righteous on me," he said, his voice low and teasing. "We both know you enjoy the thrill just as much as I do."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. He wasn't wrong, and they both knew it.

"Speaking of thrill," he continued, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "how about a little wager?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of wager?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Next recruit wins."

"Wins what?" she asked warily.

He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Bragging rights. And dinner."

She snorted. "You think I'd let you take me to dinner?"

"Who said I'd be taking you?" he shot back, his grin widening. "You'd be taking me."

The audacity of it made her laugh, a sharp, bitter sound that echoed through the sterile room.

"Fine," she said, standing up and smoothing her pencil skirt. "But don't cry when you lose."

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart," he said, rising to his feet and adjusting his tie. "Worry about yourself."

With that, she grabbed her clipboard and swept out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor.

Later That Night

The neon lights of the city cast a harsh glow on the bustling streets, illuminating the restless hum of nightlife. Cars honked in the distance, their headlights cutting through the mist rising from sewer grates. She stood near the entrance of a seedy-looking diner, a faint flicker of its neon sign sputtering above her. The air smelled of fried food and rain-soaked pavement, but she didn't notice. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd like a predator hunting for its next meal.

She didn't need long to spot potential. It was always the same—the defeated ones, with slumped shoulders and darting eyes. They carried their desperation in their posture, wearing it like a beacon.

Her instincts honed in on a middle-aged man in a rumpled suit leaning against a lamppost. He clutched a briefcase to his chest like it was his last lifeline, his lips moving silently, perhaps rehearsing excuses or trying to summon courage to return home empty-handed.

Perfect.

Before she could move, a faint ripple of awareness prickled at the back of her neck. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Stalking me now?" she asked, her tone sharp but low enough to remain unnoticed.

"Just observing," came his smooth reply, closer than she expected. "Wouldn't want you accusing me of cheating."

Her lips twitched, almost betraying a smile, but she held it back. "You can't cheat at something you're already losing."

"Keep telling yourself that," he said, and she could feel the smirk in his voice without even glancing back.

She pushed his presence to the back of her mind, focusing instead on her target. With a subtle breath, she strode forward, heels clicking against the pavement, the sound cutting through the ambient noise of the street. She approached the man with the kind of confidence that disarmed even the wariest prey.

"Rough night?" she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic, like the purr of a cat just before it strikes.

The man flinched slightly, his tired eyes meeting hers with a flicker of suspicion. "Something like that," he muttered, his voice hoarse and uncertain.

She tilted her head, her expression warm but unreadable. "Well," she said, slipping an envelope from her jacket pocket and holding it out to him, "what if I told you there's a way to turn your luck around?"

The man hesitated, his eyes flicking between her face and the envelope as if weighing the risks. Behind her, she felt his presence again, closer this time. The faintest shuffle of shoes on asphalt told her he was watching, and she resisted the urge to smirk. This one was as good as hers.

Just as the man reached out to take the envelope, a hand shot over her shoulder and plucked it from her grasp.

"Now, now," he said, stepping into view with that maddeningly smug grin, twirling the envelope between his fingers like a magician showing off a trick. "Let's not rush things."

Her jaw tightened, the air around her practically crackling with tension. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, her voice low and sharp.

"Just helping out," he replied, unfazed by her glare. With a deliberate slowness, he handed the envelope back to her, throwing in a playful wink that made her blood boil.

The man, caught in the crossfire, glanced between them, his confusion turning into hesitation. "Uh... Is this some kind of scam?"

"Not at all," he said quickly, his tone dripping with practiced reassurance. His smile widened, radiating a charm that seemed almost genuine. "We're just offering a little game. High stakes, high rewards. Interested?"

The man hesitated, his grip on the briefcase tightening. "What kind of game?"

"It's simple," he said, crouching and slamming the folded paper onto the pavement with a sharp snap. "You use your own tile and try to flip mine. If you win, you keep the envelope and some extra cash." He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket, fanning them out enticingly.

"And if I lose?"

He smirked, the gesture sharp and taunting. "Then I get to slap you. Fair trade, don't you think?"

The man recoiled, his skepticism deepening. "What kind of twisted game is this?"

"Just a little fun," the salesman said, his tone light but unyielding. "Besides, no one plays if they think they're going to lose. Are you scared you'll lose?"

She suppressed a groan. He always did this—pushing just hard enough to make them take the bait.

"Or, you take the envelope and walk away, no games required." She suggested.

Her rival's chuckle was low, almost teasing. "Where's the fun in that? And where's the money he so desperately needs, Let him decide."

The man glanced at the envelope, then at the money, and finally at the salesman's smirk. "Fine. I'll play."

Her rival's grin widened. "Excellent.", gesturing toward a nearby alleyway. "Let's make this quick."

She followed them into the dimly lit alley, her annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. He always turned everything into a game, always needed to prove he was one step ahead

He handed the man a folded paper tile, stepping back and gesturing for him to begin. The man crouched, his hand trembling slightly as he slapped his tile against the one on the ground. It barely budged.

"Not bad," the salesman said, picking up the tile. "But let me show you how it's done."

He crouched, his movements fluid and confident. With a sharp snap, his tile slammed down, flipping the man's effortlessly.

Without missing a beat, he straightened and grinned. "Looks like I win this round." He raised his hand, his smirk deepening.

The man flinched, bracing himself, but the salesman stopped short, hovering just close enough to make him sweat. Before delivering a slap that echoed through the alleyway like a gunshot. The man staggered back, holding his cheek with a mix of shock and indignation.

"Oh my—" she whispered, flinching

The salesman, unfazed and borderline proud, grinned down at the man. "another round?."

The man blinked, rubbing his face. "don't you think this was abit painful?"

"Wasn't this our deal?"

"Alright, I'll go again," the man exclaimed, determination etched on his face. He grabbed the colored tile with trembling fingers and slammed it down with force.

The tile on the ground barely budged.

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

Minutes passed, and the man refused to give up, his voice hoarse as he repeatedly asked for another round. His face, now blotched with red and purpling bruises, told the story of his futile persistence.

Growing impatient with the drawn-out game and the waste of her time, she decided to intervene. Not only had her rival stolen her recruit, but he was also dragging this nonsense far longer than necessary.

"I'll go easy on you this time," she heard him say, his voice laced with mock compassion.

"Or," she interjected sharply, pulling a thick stack of cash from her pocket, "you let me take over and raise the stakes."

Her rival's brows lifted, amusement lighting up his face. "Feeling brave, are we?"

"I just like winning," she retorted, her tone clipped as she handed the cash and envelope to the bruised man. "I don't think you have a reason to continue this."

The man hesitated for only a moment before greed overtook him. He snatched the envelope and money from her outstretched hand, shoving them hastily into his pocket. "Thanks," he muttered, practically sprinting into the crowd and out of sight.

She turned, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto her rival. "Happy now? You scared him off."

He smirked, stepping closer, his movements deliberate and calculated. "Scared him? I think I made his night."

"Your ego is insufferable," she said, arms crossing over her chest.

"Is it?" he countered, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face with a maddeningly light touch. "Or is it just that you don't like losing?"

Her pulse quickened at the proximity, but she refused to show any sign of weakness. "I didn't lose. He took my deal."

His smirk deepened, his expression dripping with arrogance. "If that helps you sleep at night."

Before she could reply, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, velvety murmur. "The game's not over yet. Want to take his place?"

Her breath caught as his fingers grazed hers, sliding the blue tile into her palm before he pulled away. The motion was deliberate, calculated to unnerve her, but she refused to let him win that easily.

She exhaled sharply, tilting her chin upward as she crouched down. Focusing on the game, she slapped her tile against the ground with all the force she could muster.

The crack echoed through the narrow alley, but the result was disappointing—the tile barely shifted.

"Tough break," he quipped, crouching beside her, his voice a teasing whisper. "Maybe you should let me teach you a thing or two."

Her eyes snapped to his, sharp and unwavering. For a moment, the tension between them was palpable, an electric crackle in the chilly air.

"I don't need your lessons," she bit out, rising to her feet and brushing past him, her jaw tight.

"Alright then," he said with infuriating ease. He crouched effortlessly, his movements smooth as silk. With a single, sharp slap, his tile flipped hers with almost mocking precision.

Standing, he turned toward her, a mock pout curving his lips. "I guess I'll have to slap that pretty face of yours now. May I?" he asked, his voice dripping with a false politeness that made her blood boil.

Her jaw tightened, and she nodded stiffly. Before she could brace herself, his hand connected sharply with her cheek. The slap rang out in the alleyway like a firecracker, her head snapping to the side with the force.

Pain bloomed hot and fast, her body recoiling slightly as she stumbled a step back. She could already feel the beginnings of a bruise forming, the sting radiating from her skin.

Her chest rose and fell as she steadied herself. "Again," she demanded, her voice steely.

This time, she took her turn, and with a fierce slap of her tile, she flipped his. A slow, triumphant grin spread across her face.

"Your turn," she said smoothly, stepping closer.

His smug grin never wavered, even as he leaned in for his next move. The sharp crack of his tile meeting her tile.

he missed.

His tile flipped awkwardly, tumbling off-course and skidding out of bounds. A flash of annoyance crossed his face, but before he could recover, her palm came down with brutal precision. The slap echoed louder this time.

He staggered slightly, his face turning away as her hand left a bright, stinging imprint on his cheekbone. The smirk she wore grew darker, more dangerous. "Losing your touch?" she taunted, her voice mocking.

His jaw tensed, but he said nothing, merely resetting the tiles and motioning for the game to continue.

The game continued, the back-and-forth intensified, each slap a resounding echo through the narrow alleyway. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, thickening with every calculated strike. Her cheek throbbed, the sting from his earlier slap blooming into a vivid bruise, while his jawline reddened with the marks of her retaliation.

Then she missed.

Her tile spun wildly off-course, landing far from where it needed to be. The mistake was glaring, and he seized the moment without hesitation. His hand came down with brutal force, striking her cheek hard enough that the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

The impact sent her staggering, and this time, a trickle of blood began to run from her nose. She stood frozen for a moment, her fingers brushing against her upper lip. Crimson streaks stained her pale skin, a sharp contrast that only seemed to embolden her defiance.

She tilted her head back slightly, wiping the blood with the back of her hand, smearing it rather than cleaning it. When she looked back at him, her smirk was intact, as sharp as ever.

"What's the matter?" she teased, her voice biting despite the blood. "that's all what you've got?"

For the first time, his confidence faltered. His hand, raised for the next strike, but then froze mid-air. Her face painted with blood hit harder than any slap, and the hesitation in his expression was palpable.

Before she could press further, he stepped forward abruptly, closing the distance between them in one smooth, deliberate motion. His hand dropped from the air to grip her arm firmly, and he pushed her back against the cold brick wall.

The impact stole the air from her lungs, the rough texture of the wall biting into her back. Yet her smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew sharper, her chin tilting upward as if daring him to try harder. His arms came up, caging her in, palms pressed against the wall on either side of her head. Her breath hitched at his closeness, but she refused to let him see her flinch.

His eyes flicked to her nose, catching the blood still trickling down. Slowly, with deliberate precision, he raised his hand.

She braced herself for another strike, but instead, his thumb brushed against her face. The unexpected gentleness of the motion sent a shiver down her spine, though she masked it well. His thumb wiped away the blood, his touch lingering a second longer than necessary.

He pulled his hand back, glancing at the crimson streak now staining his thumb. Without breaking eye contact, he reached down and wiped it clean on her shirt, the motion casual but calculated.

"Better?" he asked, his tone mocking, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Her smirk dissolved into a sharp scowl, her voice snapping as she opened her mouth. "You—"

He cut her off without a word, his lips crashing against hers in a fiery, passionate kiss. The world around them faded as his hand ditched the wall completely, roaming over her body, pulling her impossibly closer.

For a moment, she pulled back, eyes wide with shock, breathless and taken aback as if the kiss had surged through her like electricity, igniting every nerve ending. What had just happened? How had everything shifted in the blink of an eye? But before she could fully process the intensity of her feelings, his grip tightened on her hips, anchoring her in place, and the heat radiating from him was undeniable, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Her heart raced, a wild flutter in her chest that felt like it could lift her off the ground. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at her, a primal pull she could no longer resist. The air was thick with tension, charged with unspoken promises, and just when she thought she might pull away entirely, the fire in his gaze ignited something deep within her.

With a soft sigh of surrender, she leaned back into him, allowing herself to melt against his body. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing along her cheek, as if memorizing the delicate curve of her features. And then his lips crashed into hers again, hungry and demanding, hungry as though he had been waiting for this moment forever. This time, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips to dance with hers in a slow, teasing rhythm that sent shivers down her spine.

She gasped at the sheer sensation, heat pooling in her core as every ounce of tension from earlier evaporated in an instant. The taste of him was intoxicating—warm, slightly sweet, and utterly captivating. Her hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him for more.

He pulled her closer still, his hands roaming over the small of her back, mapping every curve as if he were trying to memorize her with his touch, urging her to lift her legs around his waist. Instinctively, she obliged, feeling the strength of his body as he lifted her effortlessly. she wrapped her legs around his waist, instinctively urging him to lift her higher, to take her deeper into his embrace, their bodies fitting together perfectly—two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found their match.

The world around them vanished, a blurred backdrop to this moment where only they existed. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing kisses down her jaw, throughout until he meets her neck, pausing to nibble at the sensitive skin just below her ear, igniting fire in her veins with each flick of his tongue and gentle bite. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he held her tightly as if he feared she might slip away. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her impossibly closer, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt electric.

When his lips began to trail again over her delicate skin, she hissed, "You can't leave more marks; they'll know."

He paused, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, a teasing light in his eyes. "How would they know it's me?" he murmured against her skin.

"The cameras," she whispered, referring to the implanted devices on both their jackets that monitored their work. But just as the words left her lips, she felt his mouth curl into a smirk against her neck.

"Then we might as well give them a show and leave as many marks as I want." He falls back into her skin, his lips teasing the flesh between his teeth as he moves to mark her as his own. His lips pause at one of the pulse points on her neck, noticing how her heartbeat quickens and flutters. Was this typical?

He wasn't sure, but he finds himself praying it's a good thing. A chuckle escapes him as her hands grow desperate, pulling at the back of his head, stifling a groan. "Easy, girl."

"Remember when you said you'd never kiss me? That I wasn't worth it?" she teases, a playful smile flickering on her lips.

"Fuck, did I really say that? I don't recall," he replies, feigning shock.

"Just saying that because you can't make me come," she laughs softly against him, and he can't help the way a small smile curves his lips. His fingers slip underneath her skirt, pushing past the hem of her panties. He finds her wetness already coating his fingers. "Can't make you come yet you're so wet for me, hm?"

She bites her lip, allowing her hips to sway against his fingers as pleasure envelops her thoughts. Though he's unsure of what exactly to do, he has overheard other men discussing this, and he hopes it delivers as much pleasure as they say when he dips a finger inside her. She's loose around him, wet, eagerly sucking him in. He quickly adds another finger, finding his rhythm almost immediately and growing bold. He dares to let his thumb tease the edges of her clit.

He notices the way her nails dig into his shoulders, biting her tongue so hard that crimson might seep forth at any moment.

The salesman had kissed many women, been on the brink of sex, yet none had reacted the way she did. They were quick to show their responses, every emotion not hidden behind a curtain of embarrassment; yet now, despite the situation, she found herself shy about making noise. He allows another finger to push inside her, the pink velvet of her insides gripping him. He hears her gasp when his fingers threaten to curl, and he allows himself another smile. His thumb finds her clit again, and that's when her grip becomes lethal, biting her lip no longer serving as a guard for her moans.

"Please," she mumbles, whimpering.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"I... I need you," she moans, surprising herself with her confessions to a man so dangerously psychotic, one who has killed and toyed with lives—this was something she swore she would never do. Yet here she was, becoming intimate with him, and his touch felt so gentle it was as if his past didn't exist. She can see the vein pulsing in his neck as he finally pulls his fingers out, his eyes fixed on hers as he moves his hand to his mouth, savoring her taste.

Her pupils dilate at the sight, skin warming before she realizes she's replacing his fingers with her tongue, pressing her mouth against his again. His hand falls to her waist.

Now every kiss deepens, an intoxicating blend of urgency and desire. She feels each heartbeat echoing between them. Every brush of their lips sends sparks racing through her veins, igniting every part of her being. It's primal and raw, yet intimately tender, as if they were revealing hidden parts of themselves that only the other could see.

Their lips finally part after what feels like an eternity, both gasping for breath. Foreheads resting against each other, they feel the warmth radiating from their skin, their hearts racing in unison. His eyes flutter open to find her looking up at him, a soft, teasing smile spreading across her face.

"You can put me down now," she breathes, her eyes dancing with mischief.

He reluctantly lowers her to the ground, still holding her gaze, trying to steady himself.

But as soon as her feet touch the ground, she kneels right at his crotch. "That's for not giving me a warning," she laughs, her sound teasing and light.

He winces, a mixture of surprise and discomfort crossing his features as he stumbles back. "Fuck."

She turns with a gleaming smile, beginning to walk away, glancing over her shoulder. "And now... I win. Dinner is on you," she calls back, her laughter lingering in the air.

"We are not done yet!" he calls out one last time, holding himself in pain.

part 2

[totaly-obsessed]

Out of the Pages

➳ Paige Bueckers x reader

➳ Navigation Post - here!

➳ introvert x extrovert - worlds meet

➳ Pure fluff, not proof read, idk guys, it's been a while. ➳ reader really is just me...

➳ Word count: 3.1k

The soft afternoon sun filters through the curtains of the small apartment you share with your girlfriend in downtown Storrs, casting a warm, golden light over the neat rows of books on your beloved bookshelf. Through the open window, you can hear the people talking on the street as they embrace the last warm days before it eventually gets colder. 

October is halfway over, and it won’t be long until the basketball season starts back up again, leaving Paige and her teammates in a constant state of excitement as they are making the last preparations. But in this apartment, curled up in your favorite armchair, you are at peace, absorbed in the pages of your book as you try to solve the case alongside the main character—a stark contrast to the lively chaos your girlfriend thrives in. It’s that very difference that makes your relationship work so well, despite what other people say.

In one of the restaurants close by a glass is dropped, pulling your focus from the book. A quick glance at the clock tells you that it shouldn’t be too much longer until Paige comes home. Practice ended 20 minutes ago, but most days she stayed a bit later, getting some more shots in, trying to perfect them to the best of her abilities, before she finally walked the 5-minute way back to your joint home.

With a sigh you close your book, realizing that you should probably get a start on dinner. You had always been the kind of person who found joy in the quieter moments in life. Reading a good mystery book and savoring the stillness that came with an afternoon without classes. Paige thrived in the energy of the crowd and the adrenaline of the game, while you cherished the simple things. A nice, hot, cup of tea. The feeling of a brand new book in your hands. Rain hitting your window in the fall. Knowing that she will walk through your front door in a couple of minutes, happy to fall into your comforting arms and tell you everything that happened. 

But even with you being a more private person, Paige loved you loudly. Nearly every second day she posts a pic of you on her Story. Sometimes she posts little videos of how you’re dancing around in the kitchen with her or how her teammates are interacting with you. In interviews, it’s hard to get her to stop talking about you, because no matter what the topic is, she is guaranteed to talk about you. And her fans love every second of it, and they love every bit of you. While she chases perfection on the court, you find perfection in the little things—in the way her eyes light up when she talks about her day, in the quiet moments when you simply exist together, side by side. And everyone loves watching you two be in love.

“Hi, Lovie!” Not once in your life has Paige walked through your front door quietly. So just like most days, the door flings open, as your girlfriend grins at you. “Oh, you look good, Baby!” And just like most days, she pulls the ‘o’s’ in good as long as she can. “Love, I’m wearing a sweater and shorts.” You deadpan at her while you drain the pasta and pour it into a pan. “I know Baby.  But it’s my sweater and those shorts… Yeah, I don’t think I need to say it.” Warm arms wrap themselves around you as your girlfriend clings to you, looking over your shoulder and watching you finish the sauce. “There is no protein in there, Baby.” With a scoff you shrug her off, pushing her towards the bathroom. “Wash your hands, dinner is ready.”

A soft kiss was pressed against your cheek as Paige joined you at the table. “Thank you for cooking Ma.” With a soft hum you lean into her touch, a small smile playing at your lips as you reply, "Anything for you, Love." The blonde lets out a satisfied moan as she takes the first bite, “This is incredible.” As quickly as you can you pull a face, “There is no protein in there, baby”, mocking what she said earlier to you, in your best ‘Paige voice’. One of her eyebrows shoots up, daring you to test her again.

As the playful banter continues between the two of you, Paige's eyes gleam with a mischievous spark. "You know," she says, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, "You can't stay cooped up in this apartment forever. How about coming out with me this weekend?"

You give her a knowing smile, already sensing where this conversation is headed. "Oh, Paige, you know I’d rather spend my time at home." She pouts dramatically, “But baby, it’s not just some loud party. It’s gonna be fun! Just a little get-together with the team and some friends. Nothing too crazy, I promise. Azzi told me about it.”

You roll your eyes affectionately, “I’ve heard that before. And I also remember how we ended up staying until 2 a.m. last time because you couldn't stop dancing.” Paige laughs, a sound like music filling the room, one of your favorite sounds there is. "Okay, fair point, but this time, I swear, it’s different. It's going to be relaxed—chill vibes, a few drinks, good music. Just a chance to hang out together."

You look at her skeptically, already shaking your head. “I don’t know, Paige… I’m really not the party type.” Your girlfriend leans in closer, her grin widening. "I know that, babe. And that’s exactly why I think you should come, just this once. It could be good for you to step out of your comfort zone. Who knows? You might even enjoy it." You laugh softly, but the idea still feels foreign to you. “I think my comfort zone is a pretty nice place, actually.” 

“Come on,” Paige nudges you gently. “Just think about it, okay?”

You nod, more to humor her than out of any real intention of agreeing. "I’ll think about it," you say, and Paige gives you a triumphant little cheer, knowing that everything but a ‘no’ is a victory.

Over the next few days, Paige doesn't let it go. She brings it up casually while you’re both cooking dinner, or when you're curled up on the couch together. “You know, they’ll have those little sliders you love at the party,” she mentions offhandedly one evening. Another day, she adds, “It could be like a mini-date night… just us two, but, like, with other people.”

You can’t help but smile at her persistence, though you keep gently declining each time. “I’m really not sure, Paige,” you respond, even as she keeps layering on reasons and reassurances, each argument filled with her enthusiasm.

Finally, one evening, as you’re sitting together watching a show, Paige takes a more serious tone. “Listen, love,” she says, turning towards you and taking your hand. “I know you’re not into these kinds of things, and I respect that. I love that you’re different. But I think it could be fun for us to do something a little out of the ordinary… together. Just this once.”

You tilt your head, considering her words, but still unsure. “And if I don’t have a good time?”

Paige smiles, her eyes soft. “Then we leave. No questions asked. I’ll stay by your side the entire time, I promise. I just… I just want to see you in my world, even if it’s just for one night. We can leave whenever you want. I promise you won’t be alone in it. I’ll be by your side the whole time, and Nika is gonna be there, and Azzi and KK, the whole team really. You love them! Deal?”

Her sincerity touches you, and you feel a small tug at your heart. You know how much this means to her, how much she wants to share every aspect of her life with you, just as she proudly shares you with the world.

With a sigh, you finally relent. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But I’m holding you to that promise. One step out of line, and we’re out.” Paige’s face lights up with a brilliant smile, and she throws her arms around you in a tight hug. “Deal, baby. And trust me, it’ll be fun. You’ll see.” You smile back, feeling the warmth of her excitement radiating off her.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she litters small kisses all over your face, as the blonde just can’t help herself, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. “If you hadn’t said yes today, I wasn’t gonna go either.” The jerk of your head was exactly what she had expected after telling you her little secret. At your whines, she could only laugh, “Nuh-uh. you said yes. Now We’re goin'!”

The night of the party arrives faster than you expected, and you find yourself standing in front of the mirror, adjusting your clothes nervously. Paige, ever the enthusiast, had picked out a comfortable yet stylish outfit for you, something that she assured would help you “blend in but still look cute." You catch her reflection in the mirror as she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your chest, her smile warm and encouraging. “You look perfect,” she says, and you know she means it.

Your nerves build with every meter on the way to the party. The streets are busier than usual for a usual Saturday night, and you can already hear the faint thrum of music coming from a few blocks away. Paige’s right hand found its usual place, your thigh, as she rubbed comforting circles. “Remember,” she murmurs softly, loud enough that you can hear her over the open windows that let in the cooling evening air, “we can leave whenever you want. This is just for fun, okay?”

You nod, trying to take a deep breath and push down the flutter of anxiety in your chest. The music grows louder as you approach the house, the bass thumping through the walls as the blonde parks the car. Laughter and chatter spill out into the street, a warm glow radiating from the windows. Paige squeezes your hand one last time before opening her car door, jogging around, and helping you out of your seat.

Inside, the atmosphere is exactly as you imagined—people are scattered around, chatting in groups, dancing, or playing games. You immediately feel a wave of discomfort wash over you. It’s not just the noise, but the sheer number of people crammed into the small space. Paige senses your hesitation and keeps you close, her arm slipping around your waist protectively.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispers, her lips close to your ear. “Just breathe. We’ll find a quieter corner.” She guides you gently through the crowd, smiling and waving at friends as you pass by. You catch snippets of conversations and see faces turning your way, but Paige’s presence keeps you grounded. She introduces you to a few people, all of them friendly enough, but the whirlwind of names and faces makes your head spin.

How does this girl know everyone?

Finally, you reach a quieter spot near the kitchen, where the noise is a bit more subdued. Paige grabs two drinks, handing one to you. “Here, something light,” she says with a wink. “No pressure to drink if you don’t want to, but it might help you relax.”

You take a tentative sip, and Paige’s smile widens. “See? Not so bad, right?” You give her a small smile in return, still feeling a bit overwhelmed but comforted by her presence. For a few minutes, things seem to settle. Paige chats animatedly with a few friends who come by to say hello, and you listen quietly, feeling a little more at ease just being by her side.

But then, KK and Ice, two of Paige’s closest friends and teammates, approach with wide grins. “Paige!” KK exclaims, throwing an arm around her shoulder. “We’re about to start a game of beer pong. You in?” 

Paige glances at you, “Nah, I’m good right where I am,” she says firmly, smiling at her friends. “I’m here to spend time with my girl tonight.”

KK raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Your girl can play too, you know,” she teases, glancing over at you with a playful challenge in her eyes. “Come on, it’s just a game. We promise not to make it too competitive… unless you want us to.” Ice laughs and nods, chiming in, “Yeah, it’ll be fun! You’ve got Paige on your team, so you’re already halfway to winning!”

Paige looks at you, her eyes searching yours for a moment. She can see the hesitation written all over your face, the way your fingers lightly grip her arm, not wanting to let go. You give her a small, almost imperceptible shake of your head, and she instantly understands.

She turns back to KK and Ice, flashing a charming smile. “You know what? I think I’m gonna sit this one out tonight,” she says smoothly. “We’re just here to chill and have a quiet night. Maybe next time?”

KK chuckles, catching the subtle glance between you and Paige. “Alright, alright, we get it. No pressure,” she teases with a grin. “You two are inseparable, huh?” Paige just shrugs, her grin widening as she pulls you closer to her side. “Can you blame me?” she quips back, her tone light but sincere.

KK and Ice exchange a knowing look, teasing her with playful jabs. “Oh, come on, Paige, you’re whipped,” KK laughs, but there’s no malice in it—just teasing their friend. 

“Damn right, I am,” Paige grins, pulling you closer. “And proud of it.”

They laugh and shake their heads. "Alright, alright," Ice says, “we’ll catch you later then.” They wander off, leaving you and Paige in your little corner.

As they wander off to join the others, Paige turns to you, her smile softening. “I’ve got you, always,” she murmurs, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You feel the tension in your shoulders ease a bit, and you nod. “Thank you,” you whisper, and Paige leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No big deal Ma.,” she replies softly.

“Tell me about your book, baby. What happened in the last chapter? Did Pip figure it out?”

You can’t help but smile at her genuine interest. Paige has heard you ramble on about countless books, and every time she listens as if it’s the most important thing in the world. "Well," you start, your voice a little shaky but gaining confidence as you go on, "Pip thinks she has it all figured out, but there’s this new twist... the suspect has an alibi that throws her entire theory out the window."

Paige’s eyes widen dramatically. “No way!” she exclaims, leaning in closer as if this story was the most gripping thing she'd ever heard. “I was sure she had it this time. What’s she going to do now?”

You laugh softly at her enthusiasm, feeling more at ease. "She’s back to square one, basically. But she’s determined to find a new lead, and I think she’s getting closer to the truth."

Paige nods, fully absorbed in your words, her blue eyes fixed on you with a look of admiration that makes your heart flutter. For a moment, the noise and energy of the party fade away, and it’s just the two of you, sharing this quiet little world together. It’s these moments that remind you why you took the chance to come here tonight—for her, for this.

Just then, from across the room, Azzi catches sight of Paige and nudges Nika, who follows her gaze. They both burst into giggles, catching the attention of KK and Ice, who turns to see what’s so amusing. 

“Look at her,” Azzi whispers to the group, a grin spreading across her face. “She’s got the puppy dog eyes again.”

KK snickers, “She’s totally whipped. She looks like she’s watching a sunrise or something.”

Nika laughs quietly, nodding. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look at anyone like that,” she adds, her voice filled with a touch of wonder. “It’s actually really cute.”

Ice chuckles, shaking her head. “That’s love, right there,” she says with a smile. “The girl’s completely gone for her.”

Meanwhile, Paige remains blissfully unaware of her friends’ teasing, still fully focused on you, hanging on to every word as you continue to tell her about the next chapter. Her hand finds yours, squeezing it gently, her thumb tracing light circles over your skin.

After a few moments, you catch sight of her friends watching from across the room, and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Paige,” you whisper, nudging her slightly. “Your friends are staring.”

Paige glances over and catches their teasing expressions. She rolls her eyes with a grin, then turns back to you, unabashed. “Let them stare,” she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

You feel your heart swell with affection as Paige leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. The party continues around you, but it feels like the noise has dimmed just a little, leaving a bubble of peace around the two of you.

Eventually, the evening winds down, and as the crowd begins to thin, you realize that Paige is right. It wasn’t so bad—actually, it was more than that. You had fun in your own way, simply by being there with her, sharing in her world.

As you make your way back to the car, hand in hand, Paige looks at you with a triumphant smile. “See?” she says, her eyes sparkling with mischief and joy. “Told you it would be fun.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, too. “Okay, okay,” you admit. “Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

As you reach the car, she stops and turns to face you, her expression turning sincere. “Thank you,” she whispers. “For tonight, and for always being my safe place.” You lean in and kiss her softly, your heart full. “I love you, Paige,” you murmur against her lips. “Anywhere with you is where I want to be.”

And with that, you both get into the car and drive back home together, knowing that whether in a crowded party or a quiet apartment, you have everything you need as long as you have each other.

[raekensluver]

a slytherin secret

description: you and theodore nott have been best friends since childhood, but this is the moment your friendship changes.

pairing: childhood bsf!theodore nott x fem!reader

contains: fluff!, childhood best friends to lovers

song rec: apocalypse by cigarettes after sex- "sharing all your secrets with each other since you were kids"

w.c: 1k

an: you have to use your imagination a little bit to pretend that wingardium leviosa isn't taught in the first year...

"come on, theo," you urged, nudging him with your elbow. "you can't just skip over the charms homework again. professor flitwick will have our heads on a platter if we're not prepared for tomorrow."

theo looked up from the quidditch magazine spread open in his lap, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "oh, come on. you know i've got the quidditch game to worry about. besides, it's just a simple levitation charm. how hard can it be?"

you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. theo had always been like this—a bit of a procrastinator when it came to schoolwork, but you knew he'd pull through when it really mattered. plus, his charm and natural athleticism had earned him a spot on the slytherin team for the past three years, so maybe he had a point.

"alright, alright," he conceded, tossing the magazine aside and grabbing his wand. "but only because you're my favorite."

you felt your cheeks warm at the compliment and hoped the flickering firelight was enough to hide your blush. theo had always had a way of making you feel special, even amidst the competitive slytherin environment. you focused on the parchment in front of you, reading the incantation for the levitation charm. "wingardium leviosa," you murmured, watching the quill hover slightly in the air.

theo mirrored your actions, his own quill rising slightly before dropping back down to the table with a soft thud. he frowned, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "it's not working," he muttered.

you couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at his failure. "remember, it's all in the wrist," you said, demonstrating the flick again. "wingardium leviosa."

theo took a deep breath and tried once more. this time, his quill shot straight up, knocking over his inkwell and spilling a cascade of black ink across the table. "merlin!" he exclaimed, the two of you jumping up as the ink began to spread.

you couldn't hold in your laughter any longer. it bubbled up from your chest, filling the quiet common room with its warmth. theo looked at you, his own smile growing as he took in your amusement. "see? this is why i need you," he said, teasingly wiping an ink smudge from your cheek.

the moment hung between you, his hand lingering on your face, and something shifted in the air. the laughter died down, leaving only the crackling of the fireplace and the distant murmur of students passing in the corridor. you met his gaze, and for a heartbeat, the entire world felt like it had stopped spinning.

theo's hand dropped to his side, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "you know," he began, his voice low and earnest, "i've never been able to do this without you."

you blinked, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. "do what?"

theo took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "anything. quidditch, homework, even breathing. ever since we were kids, you've been there for me."

your heart raced as you realized what he was getting at. the unspoken truth that had always been there, lurking just beneath the surface of your friendship. you had felt it too, but never had the courage to say it out loud.

"theo," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

he stepped closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "i know we're slytherins, and we're not supposed to be all…mushy," he said, his voice filled with a nervous laugh, "but i can't ignore it anymore. you mean everything to me."

you felt your heart pound in your chest as the weight of his words settled over you. theo had always been the braver one, the one who took risks and lived life without fear. but here he was, vulnerable and open, confessing feelings you had both danced around for years.

taking a deep breath, you reached out and took his hand, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt through your body. "theo," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions churning inside you, "i feel the same way."

the tension between you two snapped like a tightly stretched bowstring, and suddenly he was there, his arms around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it felt like he was trying to hold onto something precious that might slip away. you melted into his embrace, feeling his heart thud against your chest, matching the frantic rhythm of your own.

for a moment, you just stood there, holding each other, the warmth of the fireplace at your backs, the ink slowly seeping into the parchment forgotten. it was as if the whole world had melted away, leaving only the two of you in the cozy cocoon of the Slytherin common room.

"you do?" theo's voice was muffled against your hair, but the hope in it was unmistakable.

you nodded, smiling. "yes, theo. i do."

theo pulled back, his eyes searching yours with a newfound intensity. you could see the disbelief slowly morph into joy, and before you had the chance to say another word, his lips were on yours. it was a gentle kiss, full of wonder and tenderness, as if he was afraid you might vanish if he pressed too hard.

your arms wrapped around his neck, and you kissed him back, feeling the years of unspoken longing coil around you like a warm embrace. the air grew thick with the promise of something more, something you had both been too afraid to acknowledge.

the common room was a blur of shadows and firelight as you deepened the kiss, your hearts beating in sync. theo's hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase any distance that had ever existed between you.

breathless, you pulled away, your eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. but all you saw was the same unbridled happiness reflecting in the emerald depths that had been by your side through every victory and defeat, every secret and shared smile.

edited 8.20.24

[lxndonorris]

a special day in maranello - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smut Charles shows off his special black Monza suit x word count: 4880+ taglist: @game-set-canet @pitstopreality-f1 if you dont want to be tagged, or you want to be tagged, just let me know! requests are open for x-reader or ships :) EN: Went a little further than expected, but I hope you'll enjoy this"

It is the week of the Monza Grand Prix, one of the most anticipated weekends of the year, not just for the Tifosi but for the entire motorsport world.

The atmosphere is electric, with fans flocking to the region to witness Ferrari in action on home soil. But before the chaos of Monza can begin, there is an important stop to make at Maranello.

The Ferrari headquarter in Maranello is a place Charles and you have come to love. But this visit is different. This time, it isn't just about the preparations or meetings. There is something special planned, something that has been kept under wraps until now.

Charles invited you to join him for a photoshoot, something that is supposed to be "special." That's all he would say about it. No details, no hints, just that mischievous smile of his that both excites and unnerves you. 

You are used to surprises with Charles, but this one has you feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

You arrived at Maranello in the early afternoon, the sun casting a golden glow over the landscape. Ferrari reserved a private room for you, a place where you could prepare for the shoot in peace.

The room is simple yet elegant, with a large window that offers a stunning view at the headquarters. Inside, there are racks of clothing, a few chairs, and a full-length mirror on one side. The gear is neatly arranged, but the most striking piece of equipment is a large, black privacy screen that stands in the corner.

Charles leads you into the room with his hand gently placed on the small of your back.

"This is it," he says with a grin. "Our little secret hideaway for the day."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, but you are also burning with curiosity.

"So, what's this all about? You've been so mysterious lately."

He chuckles softly, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. 

"You'll see soon enough. But first, I need to get ready."

You watch as he walks over to the privacy screen, picking up a neatly folded set of clothing on the way.

You're really not going to tell me anything, are you?" You ask, crossing your arms with a playful pout.

"Nope," he replies with a wink, disappearing behind the screen. "But don't worry, you won't be disappointed."

You take a seat in one of the chairs, your eyes glued to the screen. Even though you can't see him, you can hear everything—the rustle of fabric, the soft hum of his voice as he starts to change—it all adds to the anticipation.

"So," Charles begins, his voice light and teasing, "you're probably wondering what I'm putting on first."

"Obviously," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your heart is racing.

He chuckles again, the sound warm and inviting.

"Well, first comes the Nomex. You know, the fire-resistant underwear. It's essential for safety, but it's also surprisingly comfortable. Here, let me show you."

'He's putting on a racing suit', is the first thing that comes to your mind, making your heart race faster. You love seeing him in his red suit, but this visit means only one thing: a special suit for Monza.

And, of course, he isn't going to show you right away. Instead, he describes the feel of the fabric as he slides on the shirt and pants, his tone almost sensual as he runs his hands along his chest.

"It's soft, like a second skin," he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. "It fits snugly, molding to every curve. You'd be surprised how something so thin can make you feel so safe."

You swallow hard, your imagination running wild.

"I bet it looks good on you."

"You'll have to wait and see," he teases, and you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

Next, there is a pause, followed by the sound of a zipper being pulled.

"Now, the racing suit," he announces, his tone turning playful again. "This is the real deal. It's custom made, fits like a glove, and when you put it on, you know you're ready for anything."

You lean forward in your chair, straining to hear every word.

"And how does it feel?"

Charles lets out a satisfied sigh, clearly enjoying himself.

"It feels powerful. When I zip it up, it's like I'm putting on armor. It's tight, but in a good way. Every movement feels controlled, precise. It's a part of me, and when I'm in the car, there is nothing else like it."

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some sembience of composure.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe a little," he admits, laughing softly. "But I'm also enjoying teasing you. It's fun seeing you squirm."

"Charles!" You exclaim, unable to hide the smile in your voice.

"All right, all right," he says, his tone turning a bit more serious. "I think it's time for the big reveal. Are you ready?"

Your heart skips a beat. 

"Yes."

"Good," he replies. "I'm going to count down from five, and when I get to one, I'll step out. But I want you to promise me something."

"What's that?" you ask, intrigued.

"Promise me that whatever you see, you'll give me an honest reaction. No holding back."

You nod, even though he can't see you. 

"I promise."

"Okay, here we go," he says, and you can hear the excitement in his voice.

"Five."

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

And then he steps out from behind the screen.

Your breath catches in your throat.

He is dressed in a black racing suit, but this isn't just any suit. It is sleek, form-fitting, and accentuates every line of his body. The material shimmers slightly under the light, giving it an almost otherworldly quality. Yellow accents trace the contours of the suit, adding a bold, striking contrast that makes the entire outfit pop.

But it isn't just the suit that takes your breath away. It is the way he carries himself, the confidence in his posture, the way he stands there with a slight smirk on his lips, knowing exactly the effect he has on you.

"So," he says, his voice low and velvety, "what do you think?"

Charles strikes a pose, his body angled in a way that showcases every contour of the racing suit. The black and yellow fabric clings to him perfectly, accentuating the sleek lines of his physique. His confidence is palpable, and the way he presents himself is nothing short of magnetic.

He holds the pose for a moment, his stance strong and assertive, his chest puffs out slightly as he tilts his head to the side. The suit gleams under the studio lights, the yellow accents highlighting the definition of his muscles and the tailored fit around his waist.

Then, with a fluid, almost theatrical movement, Charles begins to spin slowly. His movements are graceful and deliberate, allowing every angle of the suit to be seen. 

As he turns, the black fabric shifts and ripples, the yellow highlights catching the light and creating a stunning contrast. He spins with a kind of effortless elegance, each turn revealing a new aspect of the suit. and his physique.

The way he moves is mesmerizing.

His broad shoulders, narrow waist, and powerful legs are on full display, each turn emphasizing the perfect fit of the racing suit. His smile is confident, and his eyes sparkle with a mix of pride and playful satisfaction.

It's clear he enjoys the attention, relishing the chance to show off how well the suit complemented his body.

As he completes another spin and faces you once more, he strikes another pose, his body perfectly angled to highlight the sleek lines of the suit.

His gaze meets yours, a hint of challenge in his eyes, as if daring you not to be completely captivated.

For a moment, you can't speak. 

You can only stare at him, taking in every detail.

Finally, you find your voice. 

"You look.... phenomenal."

His smirk widens into a full-blown smile."

"You really think so?"

"Yes. I really do." You say, taking another look at him, all of him.

He looks absolutely stunning, almost unreal in his black and yellow racing suit. But it isn't just the suit that makes him so captivating.

His tousled hair, with that perfect, 'just out of bed' look, the slight stubble along his jawline, his soft, inviting lips, and those pretty green eyes—they all come together to create a sight that is simply irresistible.

As he walks toward you, his movements are slow and deliberate, almost like a predator closing in on his prey. 

His hands roam along his suit as if he can't resist touching the fabric himself. He runs them down his arms, across his chest, over his sides, and then down his abdomen, his fingers tracing the lines of his body.

You watch, completely entranced, as he licks his lips absentmindedly, his gaze locked onto yours.

There is an electric tension in the air, a palpable pull that you can't ignore. 

Your body moves on its own, your hand reaching out, fingertips grazing the fabric of the suit. The material feels incredible under your touch—smooth, almost like silk, but with a strength that is unmistakable. 

Your fingers roam over his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the fabric, and you can't help but marvel at how good it feels.

Charles smiles, clearly pleased with your reaction.

"You like it?" he asks, his voice low and intimate, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

You nod, still running your fingers over his chest, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

"I do. It feels amazing."

He grins, a flash of pride lighting up his eyes.

"It's like carbon fiber. Ferrari put a lot of thought into it."

"You can tell," you reply, your fingers still exploring the suit, tracing the yellow accents that highlight his lean physique. "It looks good on you."

Charles's smile widens, and he leans in a little closer.

"I'm glad you think so. But you know, I could get used to hearing that a bit more."

You meet his gaze, and the playful challenge in his eyes sends a thrill through you.

"Oh, really?"

"Really," he murmurs, his voice husky. "I think I deserve a few more compliments, don't you?"

You can't help but smile at his playful arrogance, but you are more than happy to indulge him.

"You look incredible, Charles. The suit fits you perfectly, and the way it shows off your body... it's almost unfair."

He hums softly in response, clearly enjoining every word. 

"Go on," he encouraged, his tone teasing.

"You've got that effortlessly sexy look going on," you continue, your voice soft but sincere. 

"Your hair, that stubble, those eyes... you're practically irresistible. And the way you wear this suit, like it's just an extension of you—it's like you are made for this."

Charles lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze locked onto yours, his eyes darkening slightly with desire.

"I love it when you talk like that," he admits, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You smile, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest.

"I love making you feel good."

"You do," he replies, his tone filled with a mix of affection and hunger. 

He reaches up, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine.

"You always do."

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside of the room fading away. 

Charles leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips bruhsing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and intense.

The sensation of his lips, warm and inviting, sends a spark of electricity through your body, and you melt into him, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders.

As the kiss deepens, his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, the fabric of his suit is cool and smooth against your skin. There is something about the way he holds you, the way he kisses you, that makes you feel like you are the only thing that matters to him in that moment.

Then you notice the distinct, alluring scent of his cologne surrounding him. It is a rich, sphisticated fragrance, subtly blending with the fresh scent of the racing suit. The aroma is warm and comforting, with hints of cedarwood and a touch of citrus that lingers in the air, creating an intoxicating combination that is uniquely Charles.

The scent envelopes you as you get closer, creating a sensory experience that is both soothing and exhilarating. It's like being wrapped in a cloud of his presence, and you feel the warmth of his body through the fabric, the scent adding another layer of intimacy to the moment.

Charles seems to notice your reaction. 

His eyes soften with a mix of amusement and affection as he looks down at you. 

"You like my cologne?" he asks, his voice low and slightly teasing.

You smile up at him, letting your fingers run down his chest again, savoring the feeling of the fabric and the scent that seems to blend perfectly with him.

"I do," you admit, your voice soft. "It's like an extra layer of you."

He chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your response.

Charles leans in closer, his eyes smoldering with a mix of affection and desire.

"Fuck, I'm getting so hard," he whispers, his voice carrying a hint of that familiar confidence.

You meet his gaze, a slow smile spreading across your lips. 

"I can see that," you reply, your voice soft but laced with playfulness.

Your eyes begin their slow journey over him, taking in every detail once more.

The way the black racing suit hugs his body accentuates every muscle, every curve, in a way that is striking yet sensual. The suit seems almost to pulse with his energy.

His muscles are taut and defined, the fabric of his suit now straining slightly under the pressure, emphasizing the hard lines of his physique.

Charles grins, a pleased smile stretching across his lips.

"This feels so good."

You reach out slowly, your fingers grazing the surface of his suit, tracing a path along his chest, feeling the subtle shift of his muscles as you move your hand down his sides and across his abdomen. 

Your touch is light but deliberate, savoring the warmth and firmness of his body.

Charles sighs contentedly, his eyes closing briefly as he enjoys the sensation of your fingers through his suit. His breath hitches slightly when your fingers trace the letters of his name along his waistline, the fabric stretching slightly as you move.

The intimacy of the moment, the way his body responded to your touch, makes your heart race.

Encouraged by his reaction, your fingers wander lower, exploring the contours of his body with newfound confidence.

You feel the tension in his muscles, the way the suit accentuates every movement. Each touch is met with a soft sigh or a subtle shift, and it is clear that he is thoroughly enjoying the attention.

Charles's hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you continue your exploration. The sensation of his body under your fingers, the way the suit clings and shifts, creates an intoxicating mix of excitement and intimacy.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" You murmur, your fingers tracing along his hips, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath the fabric.

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locked onto yours with desire.

"Absolutely," he says softly. "It feels amazing. But it's even better because you're the one doing this."

You smile, leaning in slightly, your fingers continuing their journey. 

"I'm glad I can make you feel this way."

He lets out a low, contented hum, almost a purr, his grip on your waist tightening as he revels in the closeness.

Your fingers trace a little lower, savoring the way his body responds to your touch. The suit seems almost to come alive under your fingers, amplifying every sensation, every movement.

His reaction, the way his breath hitches and his body tenses, makes you feel like you are exploring a private, cherished part of him.

"Does this feel good?" You ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"More than you can imagine," Charles replies, his voice thick with emotion. "You have no idea how... good I feel right now."

Each sigh, each shift of his body, makes the moment feel even more special.

As you gently stroke his abdomen, Charles's eyes close again, his breathing deepening as he savors the sensation. He leans into your touch, his expression one of pure contentment. It is clear that this moment, this connection, is something he cherishes as much as you do.

The air between you crackles with anticipation as your hand slowly finds the zipper of his suit. His eyes dart open and follow your movements intently, every breath between you heavy with expectation.

You hesitate for just a moment, letting the tension build before you begin to slowly pull the zipper down.

As the zipper descends, the black fabric parts to reveal the Nomex underneath, hugging his body like a second skin.

The slightly damp fabric is smooth, taut, and incredibly form-fitting, showing off every muscle, every contour of his athletic physique. The red fabric contrasted sharply with his skin, making the sight even more captivating.

Charles sighs softly, the sound full of both relief and pleasure, his chest rising and falling as he exhales deeply. You can't help but marvel at the sight before you—the tight Nomex accentuating his lean muscles, the way it clings to him, leaving little to the imagination.

Your heart races as you take it all in, your fingers itching to touch him, to feel the heat of his body beneath the fabric.

However, before you can make another move, Charles slips out of the upper half of his racing suit, letting the top half fall to his waist, revealing his torso.

Through the thin Nomex, you can see every line of his chest, the muscles of his abdomen flexing slightly as he moves. The material is so thin, so close to his skin, that it is almost as if nothing is there at all. It is an invitation you can't resist.

You reach out, your fingers trembling slightly with the intensity of the moment, and place your hand on his chest.

The Nomex feels cool to the touch, but underneath, his skin is warm and firm. You feel his muscles shift under your fingertips, flexing subtly as he responds to your touch. 

All of him is intoxicating—the power, the strength, all right there under your hand.

Charles lets out a low, pleased hum, clearly enjoying the way you are exploring him.

His hand slides to your waist again, pulling you closer until your bodies are almost touching. His other hand reaches up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

His lips hover just above yours, his breath warm and sweet against your mouth. He is so close that you feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, sense the way his chest expands and contracts with each inhale.

"How do I look?`" he asks, his voice a deep, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

You are breathless, completely caught up in the moment, on him.

Your eyes roam over his face, his hair still tousled, his stubble giving him a rugged, irresistible edge, his green eyes dark with desire.

And his body, clad in the tight Nomex, is a sight that leaves you utterly speechless.

"Amazing," you finally manage to whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean into him, your heart racing.

That is all he needed to hear.

Charles closes the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in an intense kiss. The moment your lips meet, it's like everything else fades away—the room, the world outside—all of it ceases to exist. There is only him, only this.

His kiss is full of passion, but there is also something gentle, something reverent about the way he holds you, as if you are the most precious thing in the world to him. 

His hands on your waist tighten, pulling you flush against him, and you feel the heat of his body through his shirt; the hard lines of his muscles press against you.

You melt into him, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, then down his chest, feeling the way his body reacts to your touch. His muscles tense firmly under your fingers, the sensation sending a rush of heat through you.

The kiss deepens, and you respond eagerly, your hands exploring every inch of him, reveling in the feel of his strong, powerful body under the thin fabric.

"Mhmm," he moans into your mouth as his hands move to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilts your head slightly, deepening the kiss even further.

You feel his breath quickening, matching the rapid beat of your own heart.

When you finally break apart, you are both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other's, your breaths mingling in the small space between you.

His eyes are closed, his lips slightly parted, a small, satisfied smile playing on his face.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he whispers, his voice rough and his accent coming through more.

You smile, your heart swelling with desire. 

"I think I do," you whisper back, your fingers still tracing the lines of his chest.

He opens his eyes then, looking at you with such intensity that it makes your knees weak.

That's when you feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing against your waist. A shiver runs through you at the sensation, and you can't resist the urge to tease him, a playful smile curving your lips.

"Well, someone's enjoying themselves," you murmur, your voice light and teasing as you raise an eyebrow at him.

Charles chuckles softly, the sound deep and rich.

"Can you blame me?" He replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Look at what I've got in front of me."

His playful response only makes you bolder; your hands begin their slow descent down his body, fingers tracing over the taut muscles of his chest and abdomen, feeling the way his breath hitches slightly as you move lower. 

The closer you get to his waist, the more you can feel the tension building in him, the anticipation.

As your hands continue to roam, Charles lets out a soft, involuntary moan, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. 

You let your fingers dip lower, stroking him through the racing suit, feeling the heat of his arousal against your hand.

Charles bites down on his lower lip, his eyes darkening with desire as he gazes down at you. The way he looks at you, the way he responds to your touch only fuel the fire inside you.

"Careful," he murmurs, his voice strained, though still laced with that playful edge. "You're going to drive me insane."

You smile up at him, continuing to tease, enjoying every moment of his reaction.

"Isn't that the point?"

Charles let out a low, appreciative laugh, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours.

His breathing quickened as he let out another low sigh.

"I'm really close," he admits, his voice strained with desire and frustration. The evidence of his arousal presses firmly against you, growing more intense as your fingers continue to stroke him through the suit.

The fabric stretches, forming a visible tent, yet the black fabric is slightly hiding it. Still, you feel the warmth of his arousal growing, and you notice the fabric growing damp with his pre-cum. His breath hitches, and his eyes plead with you, showing just how close he is to the edge.

You look up at him; your expression a mixture of playful defiance and genuine affection.

"You can't ruin the suit yet," you tease softly, though the warmth in your tone reveals just how much you are enjoying this.

Charles's eyes widen slightly with frustration, his hands gripping your waist tighter as he tries to steady himself.

"I'm just so close," he says, his voice a desperate whisper, his body trembling as he fights to hold on.

You keep your touch light and teasing, drawing out the moment as much as you can.

"Patience," you murmur, your voice a gentle caress against his ear.

"The suit's not going anywhere. And neither are we."

Charles's grip on you tightens even more, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

"You're really driving me crazy," he whimpers, a soft groan escaping his lips as he struggles to keep his composure.

You smile at him, your fingers continuing their slow, teasing caress.

"That's the idea, I told you," you whisper, your voice full of playful affection. "But I promise, we'll have our time. Just a little longer."

The tension is almost unbearable, the heat of the moment making it clear how much you both want to give in to your desires. His eyes are dark with need, his body presses firmly against yours as he fights to maintain control.

"I'll be patient," he says finally, though his voice is thick with desire. "But only if you promise me that we'll finish this soon."

You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips."You nod, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"I promise."

With a final, lingering kiss, Charles reluctantly steps back, his arousal still evident but his composure regained.

As Charles adjusts his suit in preparation for the photoshoot, his movements are deliberate and confident; his hands glide over the fabric, smoothing it out and ensuring everything is in place.

Yet, there is a clear focus on specific areas—his chest, his abdomen, his thighs, and the prominet bulge that is still slightly damp.

With a mixture of frustration and need, his hands linger on his chest, his fingers tracing the defined muscles beneath the Nomex. He then moved to his abdomen, his touch firm and almost possessive, as if trying to regain control over his body's reaction.

His gaze drops to the growing bulge at his waistline, and he sighs, his breath catching slightly as he feels the evidence of his arousal.

"Barely held on there," he murmurs, his voice thick with both relief and frustration as he glances at you, his expression a blend of desire and amusement.

You can't help but tease him, a playful smile spreading across your lips. 

"I can tell," you reply. "Looks like you're having a hard time keeping it together."

Charles's eyes sparkle with a mix of annoyance and amusement as he meets your gaze.

"You're really pushing your luck," he says, though there is an undeniable edge of affection in his tone.

"You make it so easy," you tease, reaching out to gently brush your fingers against the damp spot on his suit, feeling the warmth of his arousal through the fabric. The contact makes him shiver, his breath hitching again.

He gives a soft, almost helpless laugh, shaking his head.

"You're impossible," he says, though there is no real reproach in his voice. "But you're right. It's all your fault."

You lean in closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Charles's lips twitch into a reluctant smile, his eyes dark with desire once more.

With one last, lingering look, he adjusts his suit one final time, making sure everything is perfectly in place before you have to leave for the photoshoot. 

His movements are more controlled now, though the lingering evidence of his earlier arousal is still apparent.

With a final glance in your direction, he reaches for his black ferrari cap on the nearby table. He flips it in his hand for a moment, as if considering something before sliding it onto his head, the bill casting a shadow over his eyes, giving him an air of confident mystery.

He turns to the mirror, his eyes roaming over his reflection. Slowly, he licks his lips, his gaze focused on the way the cap and the racing suit completed the look. 

You watch him for a moment, the way he studies himself, clearly satisfied with how everything came together. Unable to resist, you smile and ask. 

"Are you satisfied with what you see?"

Charles chuckles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

"I think I am," he replies, his tone playful but with a hint if genuine appreciation for the way he looks.

He takes another moment to admire himself, running his fingers through his stubble and along his jawline, before letting his gaze linger on the way the suit fit his form, especially around the waist, before turning to dace you fully.

"You know," he adds, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, " I think I might even like it more with you standing next to me."

You blush slightly at his words, a soft laugh, escaping you as you shake your head.

"Always the charmer;" you tease, though you can't deny the thrill that runs through you at his compliment.

"Only for you," he murmurs, his eyes softening as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face, the gesture tender and full of affection.

With a final look in the mirror, Charles takes a deep breath, the playful edge returning to his expression as he turns to you.

"Alright," he says, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let's go show them what this suit can do."

[writingwisterias]

Can you do The different eras of leon and the different petnames/acts of affection you can do to make him smile/ get him flustered?

Hi Anon!

This is so cute! I certainly can <3 Hopefully, you like it! I'd love to just make him blush all the time or hide his face behind his hair.

Warnings: Fluff, Light talk of pregnancy, Slightly suggestive Fem!Reader

RE2:

I think the pet names you are using would be simple, not too personalised, almost like a fresh teenage relationship.

Something like: Baby, Love, Honey

He would be so smitten with you in this Era so you could just look and smile at him and his cheeks are already rosey.

Neck Kisses are his weakness though.

Something about you leaning in to whisper and then just attacking his neck with a kiss gets him going.

Even more so if you leave a mark.

RE4R:

Doesn't get easily flustered so you would have to work harder on that side of it.

He does however love to come home from wherever to see you snuggle in bed or on the couch. Partically if you are in his clothes.

Not his work clothes though, he prefers if you leave them in a draw only he can touch. Anything else is fine.

Petnames I think would be simple again, sticking with the Baby or Babe.

Occasionally having a personal one to you in the home.

I think he just likes you being his little secret from the world or his work.

I mentioned he's hard to get flustered and it took you a while to figure out what would get his cheeks a little rosy.

It would be prolonged contact.

His stare would make me melt, the one during the game (my legs are open instantly) but if you returned it. He's blushing and excusing himself

Infinite Darkness:

Not easily flustered again, I mean he is cocky and confident.

I do think sending nudes to him whilst he's busy would get him to blush and stutter.

I can imagine being out doing something and you just him a text from across the room and his head would shoot up to you, barely able to react properly.

Hates being possessive but would call you his girl. "My girl is at home waiting for me"

"Gotta speed this up so I can get back to my girl"

Meeting him at the airport when he comes back will just make him melt like he's full-on sprinting at you. His duffle slammed on the ground with a thud making a scene.

Hearing you talk about him like you are proud of him would just make him smile for the rest of the day. Just being proud to be his.

Damnation:

Would keep the nickname of My girl, is super possessive of you thinking you are the only thing good in this world for him. So it's just his way of taking a claim on you.

Loves it if you send him texts whilst he's away, literally about anything. You could be rambling about some stupid show you watched, your hobbies or interests. He just wants to know you are doing okay

Easily flustered from PDA.

I mean you giving him kisses or holding his hand as you walk around would make him falter and blush

Only because he's convinced he doesn't deserve you.

Loves it if you cling onto him, dragging him around everywhere. it makes him feel wanted and needed.

RE6:

His Girl would turn into the Wife

Even if you aren't married yet he would call you that anyway. He's already planning on doing it anyway.

Loves it when you give him little kisses everywhere, like his neck, hands, arms

Would get flustered if you kiss above his heart claiming it's full of good.

I think he misinterprets his job as something bad because he was forced onto it, taking all of the faults of the government like it's his fault he didn't prevent it.

Hearing him say you think it's full of good would just make him swoon.

If he's at one of your family gatherings and you are talking about him like you are proud of him his heart would pound so quickly.

Vendetta:

Attention whore - but only from you.

He's needy and overwhelmed by your affection is just everything he needs

Someone says your name his head is whipping in that direction.

He's clinging to you like a lifeline as he tries to keep going.

Small touches have him flustered, maybe it's because of the drink you aren't sure but he's smitten.

Wouldn't use nicknames because he's not really focusing on anything but your touch.

Your presence is enough to make him smile.

Let's say after the events of vendetta he's on the heli with others and they finally land. Only to see you waiting for him.

He's sprinting to you, no matter his wounds or injuries.

Scooping you up and holding you close.

Death Island:

He's finally ready to settle down, so if you talk to him about the future. Bam! he's putty in your arms

You're his Wifey and nothing else.

Everyone cringes when he refers to you as that but he doesn't care.

I think it would be really cute if you did that trend where at the wedding you get a bridesmaid to hand out Polaroids of you naked to him throughout the night.

He's gasping for air and blushing- his reactions are stronger the drunker he gets.

Also would blush if you talked about how hot he would be if he was Dad. Especially if he's holding a relative's baby.

The baby is instantly back to the mother and he's whispering in your ear how badly he wants it.

Also calls you his troublemaker when you do antics like the Polaroids or call him a dilf.

[pretzel-box]

STREAMER AU MASTERLIST HERE

PART 5: PAINT YOUR DOUBTS

Tags: Fluff, Drama, Angst, Stolen Identity, did I mention drama already? Also Painter!

Words: 3k

Authors Note: It’s almost Thursday and I couldn't wait. If it's weirdly written or you see mistakes: This was edited on my phone and I am suffering. Please bear with me.

Allison could see the lovestruck gleam in Sebastian’s eyes, and she knew she had won. Leaning closer, she gently rested her forehead against his, her lips curling into a sweet smile as her fingers intertwined with his. “I love you,” she whispered softly, her voice dripping with sincerity. “I always have.”

Sebastian drank in her words, soaking up the affection he so desperately craved. Those three simple words were enough to seal his fate. He pressed his lips to hers once more, the kiss soft but full of unspoken promises—promises to never leave her side, to always be there. In his arms, he finally had his Jelly, and he knew he would never let go.

As Sebastian held her close, his heart pounding as if it had been waiting for this moment all along. In his arms, he believed he finally had everything he ever wanted. Allison—Jelly—was his, and there was nothing that could break this moment.

Their kiss deepened, Sebastian’s grip on her tightened, not out of force, but from a sense of security, like he was holding on to the one thing that could keep him grounded. He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers once again, his breath heavy but steady.

"I never thought I'd have you like this," Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I waited so long... I was scared I’d lose you before I ever had the chance."

Allison smiled, a hint of triumph hidden behind her gentle gaze. “You’ll never lose me, Sebastian,” she reassured him, her fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his hand. “I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Inside, she felt a surge of victory—Sebastian was completely hers now. She had taken Jelly’s place, and he was none the wiser. Allison savored the way he looked at her with devotion, not realizing the depth of her manipulation. She had him right where she wanted him.

But as the two stood there, locked in the warmth of what felt like love to him and power to her, a tiny flicker of guilt brushed against Allison’s mind. She quickly pushed it away. This was for her, for her happiness. Being close to Solace, even if it meant betraying her friend, was worth it.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Sebastian continued, his eyes soft as he gazed at her. "It feels right—finally."

Allison leaned in, pressing another kiss to his lips, silencing him for the moment. She didn’t need to hear his words of devotion; she had already won the game.

And as they stood together, the world outside of this moment seemed distant. For now, Sebastian’s world revolved around Allison—his supposed Jelly—and she would make sure it stayed that way.

“How about I pick you up for lunch tomorrow? We can finally test out the new sushi bar you wanted to try so badly.” He whispers against her lips, hoping she would agree to his planned lunch date. He remembered every single thing about her, the way you excitedly rambled about sushi once. Sebastian had mentioned it to Allison again and of course she had to play along, telling him about a sushi bar that opened near their place.

The truth? Allison hated sushi. The smell, the texture, the taste—it all repulsed her. If she wanted the taste of raw fish, she'd rather go lick the ocean. But she couldn’t let that show, not now. Not when Sebastian was falling deeper into her trap. If she had to eat sushi to keep him hooked, she’d swallow every last bite with a smile.

She nodded, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Of course, I’d love to. Just the two of us,” she said sweetly, masking her distaste behind a charming facade.

Sebastian’s face lit up, his heart swelling at her response. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice full of affection. He kissed her forehead softly, pulling her closer in a warm embrace. “I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

Allison smiled sweetly, but internally, she was already dreading tomorrow. The thought of raw fish made her stomach turn, but she couldn’t show any hint of discomfort. She had to play her part perfectly. If sushi was what it took to keep Sebastian wrapped around her finger, then she would endure it.

“Neither can I,” she said, her voice dripping with false excitement. She leaned into his chest, hiding the small grimace that flashed across her face for a brief moment. Allison could handle this. After all, she had gotten this far.

Sebastian stroked her hair, feeling content in her presence. To him, everything was falling into place. He had his Jelly, the one person he had been dreaming of for so long. Nothing could go wrong now.

As the night wore on and they eventually parted ways, Allison’s mind raced. She needed to make sure her disguise as Jelly was airtight. No slip-ups. She couldn’t afford to reveal her true identity now, not when Sebastian was already so smitten. She would suffer through sushi if that’s what it took. She had worked too hard to let it fall apart over something as trivial as food.

Tomorrow, she would smile and pretend to enjoy every bite. Tomorrow, she will play her role perfectly, just as she had from the start.

The next day arrived with the soft rumble of Sebastian's motorcycle pulling up in front of Allison's place. She stood at the entrance, wearing a carefully curated outfit that screamed casual, yet put-together. Her heart raced, but not out of excitement—more out of the looming dread of what she would have to do once they reached the sushi bar.

Sebastian flashed her a grin, his helmet already in hand as he handed her a second one. "Ready?" he asked, voice warm and full of affection.

Allison nodded with a smile, sliding on the helmet and hopping onto the back of his bike, wrapping her arms around his waist. The engine revved, and they sped off down the road, the cool breeze whipping past them as they navigated through the city.

The sushi bar was quaint, tucked into a quiet corner of the street. Sebastian parked the bike, helping Allison off before they entered the place together.

They were greeted with a soft glow from the restaurant's paper lanterns, the delicate smell of rice and fish wafting through the air. Allison tried to suppress her gag reflex as they were seated by the window. Sebastian looked relaxed, glancing over the menu with a small smile on his face, oblivious to her discomfort.

"I think I'll try the chef's special. What about you?" he asked, looking over at her expectantly.

Allison forced another smile. "That sounds great. I’ll have the same."

The waiter soon arrived, jotting down their orders and disappearing into the kitchen. Sebastian reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "I’m glad we’re doing this. Feels like it's been a long time coming."

Allison nodded, keeping her facade firmly in place. “Me too.”

But just as things seemed to be going smoothly for her, the door to the restaurant swung open, and her stomach dropped.

It was you.

You walked in, scanning the place casually before your gaze locked onto them. Sebastian noticed too, sitting up straighter, a grin forming on his face. He waved you over.

“Hey! Come join us!” Sebastian called out, his voice breaking through the serene ambiance of the restaurant. "Allison's here too, and you're her friend, right?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what you were walking into. But with no real reason to refuse, you offered a polite smile and walked over to the table. A thousand questions flew through your head as you tried to come up with a reasonable idea why the two of them sat together. “Hey guys,” you greeted them, sitting down as the waiter brought you a menu.

It wasn’t until you sat that the tension became palpable. You looked at Sebastian, then Allison, back and forth, trying to piece together the dynamic between them. The two of them seemed strangely close, almost too close.

Sensing your confusion, Sebastian spoke up. “I meant to tell you… actually, I was going to soon. Allison and I are… we’re dating now.” He said it with pride, glancing at Allison with that same lovestruck expression you recognized all too well.

Your heart sank. A thousand thoughts flooded your mind, each one cutting a little deeper than the last, but you kept your expression neutral, unwilling to let anything show.

“Wow, that’s… that’s great,” you managed to say, forcing a smile that you hoped looked genuine. “I’m really happy for you both.”

Sebastian beamed, clearly oblivious to the sudden shift in your demeanor. Allison, meanwhile, met your gaze with a triumphant smirk barely hidden behind her own facade.

You swallowed hard, your appetite vanishing as the reality settled in. Sebastian had moved on, with Allison of all people. But you had to play along. “So, what’s good here?” you asked lightly, trying to keep the conversation going while your mind raced.

Sebastian eagerly dove into a conversation about the menu and what he planned to order, but you could hardly focus on his words. Your thoughts were too loud, too heavy. You felt like an outsider sitting at the table with them, despite their warm invitation.

Pretending to be happy for them both was the only option you had.

In the span of the next five days, Allison seemed to make your house her permanent residence. She was loud, obnoxious, and clung to Sebastian like bubblegum that just wouldn’t let go. Your motivation to stream was at an all-time low, work had drained you completely, and the heartbreak you were going through felt like the final blow. You’d posted a community update on your streaming account, apologizing for your short absence without getting into much detail. Thankfully, your fans were understanding and flooded the post with messages of support. At least the strangers on the internet still had your back.

It was Thursday evening, and you carried two boxes of Chinese takeout—your favorite. Every third Thursday of the month was Chinese Takeout Thursday, a tradition you and Sebastian had started. Either one of you would bring home food, and the two of you would settle in for an episode of How I Married a Wall Dweller, your favorite TV drama.

You kicked off your shoes and set the takeout on the counter, feeling a brief flicker of hope for a cozy evening. But as you moved through the apartment, a soft, melodic strumming drifted out from Sebastian’s room, followed by Allison’s unmistakable, girly laughter. Your heart sank.

Sebastian was playing guitar for her.

He’d never played guitar for you. He always claimed he wasn’t good enough, that he didn’t want you to hear him make mistakes. Yet here he was, strumming away like he had nothing to hide, serenading Allison while you stood there, boxes of takeout in hand, feeling like you didn’t belong in your own home.

You grabbed one box of takeout and tossed the other in the trash, not even caring. The excitement for your shared tradition had evaporated, leaving a dull ache in its place. With a heavy sigh, you retreated to your room, settling into bed and turning on your favorite TV drama. The room felt unusually cold that night, a chill that settled deep in your bones.

Allison, however, wasn’t resting easy. The more you withdrew from Sebastian, the more threatened she felt. She couldn’t stand the thought of you finding solace in streaming—one thing she couldn't control, especially since she knew how much Sebastian cared about your streaming career.

So she concocted another plan: get Jellycatfished banned.

It wasn’t difficult. You’d been careless enough to use the same password for everything, and Allison had no trouble logging in to your streaming account. It took her mere minutes to get you banned by triggering multiple violations. She knew Sebastian would be concerned and question what had happened, but she was ready with a perfect excuse:

The platform must have made a mistake. They banned you for no reason.

It was flawless. You’d be out of the streaming scene, and she’d make sure Sebastian stayed oblivious. No more streams, no more collaboration invites—just her and Sebastian.

Another win for Allison.

The moment the notification hit your inbox, your heart sank. Your account—Jellycatfished—banned. All the hours, all the work, gone in an instant. It felt like the final straw. You could handle work stress, you could even tolerate Allison’s constant presence, but this? This was your safe space, your escape, and now it is gone.

Without thinking, your first instinct was to message Solace. He deserved to know. You quickly typed a message, your hands trembling as you tried to explain the situation.

"Hey, I just got banned from the platform. I don’t know what happened... but I thought you should know."

What you didn’t realize was that Allison had already gotten to him. She’d mentioned it casually when he asked why you hadn’t been streaming, spinning her story about how the platform must have glitched and banned you for no reason.

Sebastian had seemed concerned, sure, but Allison’s explanation had been so confident, so convincing, that he hadn’t questioned it too much. So when your message came through, his response was quick but flat.

"Yeah, you mentioned that during our date earlier. That sucks, but I’m sure it’ll get sorted out."

You stared at his reply, your heart sinking even further. The words didn't make sense, not at all. Date? What date? The realization crashed over you, an emotional tidal wave that made your head spin. You flung your phone onto your bed, letting out a muffled scream into your pillow, your nails digging deep into the fabric as rage, betrayal, and frustration surged through you. Allison had done it. She had somehow stolen your account, your identity, and now, it seemed, she was trying to steal everything else too.

As the echoes of your scream faded into the stillness of your room, you pulled yourself up and grabbed your phone again. The silence around you was stifling, heavy with the weight of everything you’d just uncovered. You took a breath, your fingers trembling as they hovered over the keyboard.

"Solace, we are not dating."

The reply came quickly.

"What do you mean, we are not? We had so many dates already, Ally. You want me to actually officially ask you out? Let me prepare at least, cutie."

He didn’t get it. He didn’t catch the weight of your words at all.

You hesitated for a moment, then typed, "Solace, I am not Ally. It's me. Your roommate."* You added your name for clarity.

And then... silence. Nothing. No response. No footsteps coming toward your door. Nothing at all.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hallway, Sebastian was staring at his screen in growing confusion. It’s you and not Allison? How? His thoughts raced, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to process. He quickly opened another chat, the one he’d been using with Allison for weeks, his fingers moving frantically across the keyboard.

"Babe, why is my roommate on your Discord?"

Miles away, Allison had just stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around her as she glanced at her phone. Her face paled, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Sebastian’s message. You sneaky little worm... she thought, fury bubbling inside her. You were trying to expose her, daring to unravel the web she’d so carefully woven. But Allison wasn’t going to let that happen without a fight.

She quickly typed back, her fingers flying over the screen.

"Oh god. Seb, I didn’t want to tell you at first..."

“Your roommate is in love with you…they are actually stalking me now since I became your girlfriend and they are jealous. Seems like they even hacked my discord and pretended that they are me…What if they got my streaming account banned too?”

"I'm so sorry, Ally. I promise I'll get this sorted out. No matter what happens, you're my priority, and I support you."

Sebastian’s words echoed in his head, gnawing at him days later as the whole situation weighed heavily on his nerves. He hadn’t even had the chance to talk to you yet, having blocked your Discord account per Allison's suggestion. She'd convinced him it was safer that way until she could switch out her email and password.

Sitting in Painter’s little tech shop, Sebastian sipped on his cup of instant coffee, his mind swirling. "Man, you look horrible," Painter, his friend and confidant, remarked from across the counter. Painter’s small shop was filled with parts and gadgets, tech stuff scattered everywhere, but today it felt heavier with the weight of Sebastian’s troubles.

“It all makes sense now, Painter. The movie nights, Chinese takeout days, working together...Meeting them in the Sushi Bar even. God, I was so blind." He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair before pulling out his phone and sliding it over to his friend. Painter picked it up, scrolling through the chat history and screenshots Sebastian had saved before blocking you.

As he scrolled, Painter’s brow furrowed. Something wasn’t sitting right. His fingers moved faster across the screen, pulling up messages and logs, all while Sebastian sat there, completely spaced out. Painter and Sebastian had a close bond, and having his friend type on his phone wasn’t unusual. In fact, they often shared stuff like this.

"I'm sorry, man. This really sounds tough," Painter mumbled, his voice distant as he dug deeper into the details. Secretly, Painter unblocked your Discord, his technical expertise kicking into high gear. After a few moments, he managed to pull up something that made him pause: the IP address.

He cross-checked it with the logs and Sebastian's own information. It was the same IP. How could that be? Painter’s mind raced. If this account really belonged to Allison, there was no way it would have the same IP as Sebastian’s unless…

Painter’s heart sank as the realization hit. The only possibility was that the account was yours. You had been telling the truth all along.

[redroomreflections]

Before Sunrise - A Family Of Her Own Series

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A Family of Her Own Series

3/7

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 3.3k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha has a secret family. Set during the BW films. She brings her Red Room family to meet them. She has a moment with her daughter.

Part 3 of many more.

Just like the night, the house was quiet in the early hours of the morning, the kind of stillness that only comes before the world wakes up. Natasha moved quietly through the hallway, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. Despite being away so often, she knew her daughter’s rhythms like second nature—how Stella always woke up just before the first hint of sunlight touched the horizon.

As she pushed open the door to Stella’s bedroom, the soft creak of the hinges sounded louder in the silence, but it didn’t disturb the little girl. The room was painted like an aquarium, deep blues and greens swirling together, with playful fish and, of course, a giant shark on one wall. Stella’s obsession with sharks had taken over every part of her imagination, but despite the ocean theme, she had recently begged for a new princess-style bed set, complete with pink sheets and a tiara-shaped pillow.

Natasha smiled faintly as she took it all in, her heart tugging at the juxtaposition of her daughter’s fierce fascination with predators of the sea and her innocent love for all things sparkly and soft.

She quietly made her way to the rocking chair tucked in the corner, the same one she had rocked Stella in as an infant. Natasha eased herself into the chair, making sure her movements were slow and deliberate.

Sitting there she let her eyes trace over Stella’s small sleeping frame. Her daughter looked so peaceful, her soft breaths steady and uneven. This was the quiet Natasha craved. The moments when everything felt so simple.

The ticking of a clock was the only sound, rhythmic and soothing. Natasha knew Stella would stir soon, her internal clock always waking her before the first light of day. That was part of why she had come in early—to be here, to sit with her daughter before the day inevitably pulled her back into the chaos she couldn’t seem to escape. Even if she couldn’t always be present, she wanted to savor these moments, the ones where she could just watch over her without needing to rush off to fight someone else’s battles.

But as she sat there, a familiar ache settled in her chest. Being gone so much meant missing out on these quiet mornings. The guilt gnawed at her, especially now, watching how peaceful Stella looked. Remembering how excited Stella looked to see her just yesterday morning made her want to call all of this off. Leave Tony to deal with the mess they created. It would be too selfish.

Natasha allowed herself to settle into the rocking chair, peace finding her once again, and she closed her eyes. The familiar rustling of blankets caused her to open them again. Stella stirs against her blankets before sitting up. She sways gently, fighting whatever sleep calls to her, as she surveys the room. She rubs tiredly at her eyes.

“Mommy,” She calls out for you. Though you wouldn’t come. Not when Natasha asked for this morning alone with your daughter.

“I’m here, love,” Natasha says softly.

Stella turns to her, and even in the dimness of the room, she can make out her features—the slight smile that spreads across her face. It seems she forgot that Natasha was home.

“You real?” Stella asks.

Natasha chuckles.

It was a game they had played before. In the middle of the night when Stella would wake from a bad dream, sometimes she would think she was in the past, her mind playing tricks on her.

“I am real,” Natasha nods.

Stella crawls across her bed and onto her knees. She leans forward, reaching out to cup her cheek. She squishes it with her tiny hands and grins.

Natasha reaches out and takes hold of Stella.

“Mama’s home,” Stella whispered as she pressed herself deeper into Natasha’s arms.

Natasha presses her lips to the top of Stella’s head.

Stella curls closer to Natasha, a sigh leaving her. Natasha rocks her back and forth until her breathing steadies out and her body relaxes.

“I love you,” Natasha whispers.

“Mama?” Stella looks up at her with big brown eyes. Natasha studies the features of her daughter. She hums, letting her know she is listening.

Stella shifts in her lap, pressing her nose into her neck.

Natasha closes her eyes and holds her tight.

“Are you going on another airplane?” Stella asks. Of course, most of it sounds like gibberish as she is only two and developing a vocabulary but Natasha understands it nonetheless.

She sighs heavily and kisses the top of her head.

Natasha didn't want to tell her, didn't want her to have to go through the process of waiting for her mom to return.

“Not today,” Natasha answers.

“I don‘t want you to go on any more airplanes,” Stella shakes her head. “I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.”

Natasha feels tears prickle in her eyes. The little girl snuggled into her mother’s chest, unaware of the storm she’d just stirred.

Natasha squeezed her, her grip firm yet tender, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat tightened, and for the first time in a long while, she felt completely helpless. She rocked them back and forth, trying to maintain the rhythm, as if that could soothe both of them, as if the gentle motion could drown out the ache in her chest.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Each rock of the chair was an attempt to hold herself together, but Natasha could feel the cracks widening. The words repeated in her head, tearing through her defenses. I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.

She had faced down armies, survived impossible missions, but this—this tiny request from her daughter—felt like a blow she couldn’t recover from.

The tears prickled in her eyes, stinging with the weight of everything she couldn’t say. The truth, the life she lived, the constant leaving—it all flashed through her mind, and for the first time, it felt like she had failed at the one thing that truly mattered. How could she explain to Stella that being Mama wasn’t something she could always do? That her other life—the one filled with danger and sacrifice—wasn’t something she could walk away from, even if it meant breaking her daughter’s heart?

Stella pulled back just slightly, her wide eyes staring up at Natasha, waiting for an answer, for reassurance that Mama would stay.

But Natasha couldn’t lie. Not to her. Not to this little girl who looked at her like she was her entire world. The lump in her throat grew, and she felt the sting of tears pressing harder, threatening to spill over.

“Oh, baby…” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

She kept rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth.

But no matter how much she rocked, the ache wouldn’t go away. Stella didn’t understand why Natasha left, why she couldn’t be like other mothers who stayed home and tucked their children into bed every night. And how could she? Natasha had crafted a life of secrecy and danger, one that her daughter couldn’t begin to fathom.

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the soft creak of the chair and the quiet sniffle from Stella, who had already nestled back into Natasha’s arms. Natasha kissed the top of her head, holding her as close as she could, as if holding her tight enough might somehow make up for all the times she couldn’t be there.

But it wouldn’t.

And for the first time in a long time, Natasha let the tears fall. Not because she was scared, not because she was angry, but because she finally let herself feel the weight of what she had sacrificed. She could take down enemies and save the world, but she couldn’t protect her daughter from the one thing she longed for most—her mother.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

She rocked them both, knowing that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t promise Stella what she truly needed. She could only be there for this moment, holding on for as long as she could, before the world would pull her away again.

And in that moment, Natasha felt like the biggest idiot for ever believing she could balance both worlds without breaking something—without breaking someone.

“Mama, why you not talking?” Stella asks, the confusion on her face reminding Natasha so much of you.

She smiles sadly and presses her lips to the top of her head, inhaling deeply.

She was here, holding her, and even though it wasn't forever, she would soak up every moment.

“I’m sorry,” It leaves her lips in a broken mess. One Stella doesn’t catch. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Stella doesn't say anything, her fingers clutching tighter around her neck.

Natasha sighs deeply, her fingers brushing softly over the crown of her head.

Natasha swallows tightly. “You’re my baby and I love you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stella nods. “Mommy tells me that every day.”

Natasha nods, her lips pulling into a smile.

Her fingers curl into the hem of her shirt and Natasha leans forward.

She closes her eyes, trying to hold onto the moment for just a little longer.

“It’s almost my birthday and then I’m going to be three,” Stella reminds her. “So big. Right? I’m even taller right now.”

Natasha nods, opening her eyes, watching the way her daughter wiggles and moves, showing her height.

Stella stops moving, her eyes widening.

Natasha blinks back tears but doesn't look away.

“Mommy says I need a haircut soon,” Stella grips tendrils of brown hair before dropping her hand. “I want my hair to be like Rapunzel.”

Natasha lets out a watery laugh.

Her daughter was so beautiful and innocent.

Natasha presses her face against the top of Stella's head, the scent of her strawberry shampoo filling her nose.

“Mama, did you see my baby brother? He was sick yesterday but Mommy takes good care of him,” Stella reminds her.

“Your Mommy always takes good care of you both,” Natasha says. Stella simply chuckles. She agrees.

“Can we go eat breakfast now?” Stella asks her.

Natasha lets out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head at her daughter.

Natasha sets Stella on her hip, standing slowly from the rocking chair.

She carries her down the hallway towards the kitchen. They could eat breakfast together.

next part

[lemon-pie-br]

Special Needs

Minatozaki Sana x F!reader

(First story. Kind of quick, kind of experimental, something I wrote a few weeks ago. I plan on bringing more stuff in the future... Probably:)

The party is in full swing, the sound lightly vibrating against the walls of the house and the conversations blending into an almost comfortable cacophony. We’re in the living room, surrounded by laughter, clinking glasses, and a thin haze of cigarette smoke in the air. Sana, beside me, is a magnetic presence. From the moment we arrived, she’s been giving me looks that seem to have a purpose beyond simple flirting.

She leans in to say something in my ear, and her perfume, sweet and intoxicating, makes me lose track of what she’s saying for a second. Laughing, she pulls back, the tips of her fingers lightly grazing my arm. “Let’s do something fun,” she whispers, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

There’s a tension in the air, something only the two of us can feel.

As the night progresses, Sana’s provocations become bolder. She gets closer to me on the makeshift dance floor, letting our bodies brush against each other in a way that seems almost accidental, but I know it’s not. She laughs, pulling me by the hands, spinning me around, and suddenly lets go, her eyes always locked on mine, as if we’re playing a secret game.

One of those times, she lets her lips touch the exposed skin of my neck, a touch so brief and soft that it leaves me breathless. “Are you having fun?” she asks, but before I can answer, she pulls away again, mingling with the others...

but never straying too far.

When I least expect it, Sana comes close again, leaning in until her face is almost touching mine. “Meet me on the second floor,” she murmurs, her lips nearly brushing my ear, “in the last room.”

She pulls back, her eyes holding mine for a long moment, as if making sure I understand. Then, discreetly, she leaves the room, her body disappearing up the stairs. My heart races. I look around, but no one seems to notice the exchange we just had. With one final sip of my drink, I follow the path Sana took.

The second floor of the house is quieter, the muffled sound of the party below providing an odd sense of tranquility. I walk to the end of the hallway, feeling the anticipation grow with each step. When I reach the door, I hesitate for a second, my heart pounding.

I push the door open slowly and step inside. The lights in the room are dim, the space bathed in a soft, inviting glow. There, on the bed, Sana is lying, dressed only in black lingerie that accentuates every curve of her body. She’s lying on her side, propped up on an elbow, her eyes watching me with a mix of challenge and desire.

“You took your time, baby,” she says with a slight smirk, her voice low, tinged with impatience.

I approach slowly, feeling the warmth of her body before I even sit on the edge of the bed. Sana lifts herself slightly, the movement making the fabric of the lingerie slide over her skin like a second layer. She comes closer to me, and when her lips meet mine, the kiss is slow, almost experimental, as if we’re both savoring the moment that has been building throughout the night.

Her hands touch my face, trailing down my neck and over my shoulders. “I knew you’d come,” she whispers, her words soft and close. “I knew from the moment we walked into that party that you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“You’re impossible,” I reply, but my words sound more like a surrender than resistance.

Sana smiles against my mouth, her fingers lightly tugging at my hair. “I know.”

—

Sana and I were inseparable as kids. The kind of friendship that made other kids wonder if there was something more between us, but we were so young, so innocent, that all we knew was that the world felt right when we were together. There was a special connection, something that went beyond playtime and late-night phone calls. We were two halves of a whole, though we didn’t have the words to explain it back then.

But everything changed when Sana moved away. I remember that day like it was yesterday. She gave me a tight hug, and we promised to keep in touch. "Nothing's going to change," she said, but there was a sadness in her eyes that belied those words. I held onto that promise for a while, but as the months, and then years, passed, life pulled us apart. The contact became sporadic, until eventually, it disappeared completely.

I moved on, but a part of me always wondered what had happened to Sana, where she was, how she was doing. And sometimes, I found myself thinking about her in ways that went beyond friendship, but I quickly pushed those thoughts aside, believing they were just remnants of a childhood longing.

Then, years later, she came back to town. I heard from mutual friends that she was back, but I didn’t know if she would want to see me, if she still remembered me the way I remembered her. But fate, or maybe something else, had other plans.

We ran into each other by chance at a café downtown. I was distracted, fiddling with my phone, when I heard someone call my name. When I looked up, my heart nearly stopped. There she was, as if no time had passed, but at the same time, so different. More mature, more confident, but still with that sparkle in her eyes that I always loved.

“Sana?” I asked, almost in disbelief.

“I knew I’d find you here,” she replied, smiling in that way that made my stomach flip. “It was your favorite spot. Well, I guess it still is.”

We talked for hours that day, as if we were making up for all the lost time. There was so much to catch up on, so many memories to relive. And with every word, every shared laugh, I felt that old connection coming back, but this time, there was something more. Something unspoken, but deeply felt.

After that reunion, we couldn’t stay away from each other. We met up every day, exploring the town, rediscovering our favorite childhood spots. We went out for lunch, for walks, and we always ended up in the same place: either at her house or mine, where we’d spend hours talking, watching movies, laughing, and eventually falling asleep together, like we used to when we were kids. But now, the simple act of sleeping next to her carried a tension, an expectation that neither of us dared to express.

One night, after an especially long day full of laughter, we were lying in my bed, the lights already off, with only the moonlight illuminating the room. I was lying on my side, facing Sana, and I could feel her breath against my face. We were so close that the space between us felt charged with electricity. The silence between us was comfortable, but also filled with something I couldn’t name.

“You know,” she began, her voice soft in the dark, “I never stopped thinking about you. Even when we were apart. I always knew that somehow, we’d find our way back to each other.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I never forgot you either, Sana.”

There was a moment of hesitation, and then she moved closer, her lips brushing gently against mine. The kiss was slow, almost shy, like we were both testing something new and sacred. But soon, what started as a tentative exploration turned into something more urgent, more intense. Everything we had repressed over the years came to the surface in that instant.

“I feel like… I’ve always been waiting for this,” Sana whispered against my lips, her fingers tracing my face with a tenderness that made my chest tighten.

“Me too,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion.

From that moment on, there were no more doubts. We both knew that what we felt for each other was more than just friendship. It was something much bigger, something that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. We began to explore this feeling together, rediscovering each other in ways we had never imagined. The connection between us, which had always been there, was now charged with an overwhelming passion that we could no longer ignore.

Our afternoons together became filled with tenderness, our laughter turned into touches, and soon, we were spending every night at each other’s houses. Every kiss, every caress, felt like a new discovery, a piece of us that had been hidden for so long, finally revealed.

And so, what started as a childhood friendship evolved into something much greater. Sana and I, who had once been inseparable as friends, were now secret lovers, exploring together a love that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to bloom.

—

Sana beckons me closer, her eyes sparkling under the soft light of the bedroom lamp. She’s always had this power over me—a simple gesture, a look, and I melt. I approach, feeling the warmth radiating from her body, and without exchanging a word, we begin to kiss. Sana’s lips are warm, and her kisses, slow and passionate.

She slides her hand down my neck, pulling me closer as her kisses trail to my neck. I sigh as her lips meet my skin, the heat from her mouth sending waves of excitement through my body. "I want you so much," she whispers, her lips brushing against my ear. "You looked so beautiful at the party, it was so hard not to throw myself at you in front of everyone."

I chuckle, my voice trembling slightly with desire. "You looked... stunning too," I say before capturing her lips again in a deep kiss where our tongues meet with urgency. My hands glide over her body, caressing her breasts through the lingerie. I feel her nipples harden under my touch, and Sana arches her back, pressing herself closer to me, moaning softly.

Her hand begins to slide up my thigh, slowly, and with every inch, my body responds, yearning for her touch. "I couldn’t stop looking at you," she murmurs, her eyes darkened with desire. "I wanted to bring you to this room all night."

I let out a sigh, my fingers finding their way to pull Sana’s breasts out of her lingerie. She lets out a low moan, but the sound is quickly muffled as she urgently says, "We can’t make noise." I chuckle in response, and without hesitation, I lean in to suck on her breasts, nibbling and licking every curve, every inch of soft skin.

Sana leans back on the bed, lying down slowly, her eyes closed as she murmurs, "That feels so good... don’t stop..." Her words are encouragement, and I continue, her moans guiding me. Sana’s hands tangle in my hair, a gentle caress that makes me lose even more sense of time, of place. It’s just her, me, and the feel of her skin under my lips.

Between kisses and sighs, Sana slightly lifts herself and whispers, "Take off the dress." I obey, sliding the fabric off my body, left only in panties since I wasn’t wearing a bra tonight. Sana’s gaze roams over my body, and I see the desire growing in her eyes before she leans in to suck on my breasts, her warm, moist mouth against my skin.

"Ah, Sana..." I murmur, her name escaping as a sigh while my hands caress her hair. "Keep going... I’m loving it."

She starts to move her hand down my body, fingers lightly brushing over my pussy, still covered by the panties. The movements are slow, teasing, each touch filled with promise. "You look so beautiful when you’re feeling pleasure," she whispers against my skin, her voice full of affection and desire. She continues until my panties are completely soaked, and when I realize it, I say with a smile, "I’m so wet for you."

Sana smiles back, her eyes shining with satisfaction. "Let me see," she says, and I lie back on the bed, offering myself completely to her. Sana slowly moves down my body, her lips leaving a trail of heat as she goes. When she reaches my panties, she gently pulls the fabric down, her eyes locked on mine, as if she’s been waiting for this moment all night. She starts slowly, lightly running her tongue over my pussy, just teasing, exploring. Each movement is made with an almost devout attention, as if she wants to memorize every contour, every reaction of mine.

"I love your taste," she whispers between licks, her voice velvety with desire. "I could do this all night." The way she says it, as if she truly could, makes me moan loudly, my body arching involuntarily toward her, wanting more, needing more.

She intensifies the rhythm, her tongue moving with more precision, finding every sensitive spot, every place that makes me lose control. "Keep going... don’t stop," I murmur, my fingers gripping the sheets, the pleasure almost unbearable.

Sana obeys, but there’s something deliberate in her movements, a teasing that makes me want to explode and, at the same time, wish she never stops. She pauses briefly to say dirty things, whispering how much she loves my taste, how much she’s enjoying making me feel this way. And I, breathless, can only ask for more, my voice almost a whisper.

"I’m so close," I warn, my breath quickening, my body on fire. Sana responds with a smile, increasing the pressure with her tongue even more until I’m on the verge of climax. It’s such intense pleasure that I feel like I can’t take it. "Sana... I’m going to cum," I murmur between moans.

She stops and looks at me with that gleam in her eyes, that gleam that always makes me lose control, and suggests in a voice thick with desire: "Don’t cum yet. Let’s scissor real good." My heart races even more at her words, and I don’t hesitate to agree.

She removes her lace panties, and I watch her for a moment, every curve of her body, every movement charged with a sensuality that is pure and unique. Our wet pussies meet, and the heat I feel when coming into contact with her skin is almost overwhelming. Our hips begin to move in sync, a rhythm that starts slow, exploratory, but quickly becomes more intense, more urgent.

"Ah... This feels so good! Keep going!" Sana moans, her eyes closed as her hips meet mine in a movement that makes me arch my back in pleasure. Every touch, every slide, is like an electric shock running through my body, making me lose any control I might have left.

"Yes! Just like that, Sana, your pussy is so wet..." I manage to say, my voice interrupted by moans. Our skin rubs together, sweaty, hot, and the sensation is almost indescribable. I grip her thighs tightly, wanting more, needing more.

She keeps moving against me, the rhythm getting faster. "It feels so good... don’t stop, please... don’t stop," she pleads, her voice filled with such intense pleasure that it makes me want to go further, to give her everything she needs. I move faster, harder, and every moan of hers is like music to my ears.

"Sana... Sana, I’m so close," I whisper, my hands gripping her thighs, pulling her closer, wanting to feel every part of her, every inch of her skin against mine. She bites her lip, her eyes still closed, and I know she’s about to cum.

"Me too... Ah, don’t stop, please... keep going... I’m going to... I’m going to..." she moans, and when she finally cums, I feel her body tremble against mine. The deep, satisfied moan that escapes her lips makes me follow right after, losing myself in the pleasure, in the connection we share, so unique, so undeniably ours.

As our bodies are still recovering from the orgasm, our hearts beating at a frantic pace, Sana looks at me with a mischievous smile, that smile that always means she has something more in mind. "I want to taste your orgasm... and I want you to taste mine," she murmurs, her voice soft and full of desire. She barely finishes speaking, and I already feel my entire body vibrate with anticipation.

"I’d love that," I reply, my tone as full of longing as hers. Sana then moves with an almost feline agility, lying down opposite me, and I feel the warmth of her body over mine, her smooth, warm pussy brushing against my lips. Our bodies align perfectly, and her scent, mixed with the aroma of sex and sweat, invades my senses, making me almost moan in pleasure even before we begin.

I feel her lips close around me, her warm tongue sliding over my sensitive skin, savoring every drop of my orgasm. The pleasure coursing through my body is almost too much to bear, but I waste no time in reciprocating. I lower myself until I taste the unmistakable sweetness of her honey on my tongue. Every movement of my tongue, every gentle kiss, is an explosion of pleasure that consumes us.

"Ah, you taste so good... I love your taste," she whispers between moans as she continues to suck me with devotion, her tongue exploring every part of me, slow and steady, but with a hunger only Sana can have. I respond with a muffled moan, diving even deeper into her flavor, my tongue following the contour of her swollen lips, savoring the musky taste that is so uniquely hers.

"Don’t stop, Sana... don’t stop... I want you to cum in my mouth," I say, my voice hoarse, almost begging. The words come out like a confession, a request that she fulfills with even more intensity, her pace increasing as she sucks me with a passion that makes my body writhe in pleasure.

"I want to feel you cum again too... Ah, please, cum for me," she moans, her voice interrupted by her ragged breath, every word echoing the desire that simmers between us. My hands grip her buttocks as I intensify my movements, determined to bring her to the edge again.

And then it happens. I feel her body tremble, the taste on my tongue growing even more intense as Sana dissolves into a deep, powerful orgasm, and the sound of her moans sends me into my own climax. I come against her mouth, Sana's name escaping my lips in a satisfied, almost reverent whisper. The pleasure is so overwhelming that for a moment, all that exists is her, us, and the overpowering sensation we share.

—

We descend the stairs, each step steadier than the last, trying to sync our breathing and heartbeats to the rhythm of the music filling the house. The muffled sound of laughter and conversation intensifies as we approach the living room, as if the world downstairs has been waiting for us, never suspecting what just happened in the last room upstairs.

Sana, as always, pulls herself together quickly. There's a lightness in her steps, a soft curve to her smile. It's as if nothing happened, as if everything is normal. But there's something in her eyes—a confident gleam, a sparkle that only I understand.

We return to the party, trying to blend in as if our skin isn't still tingling with the memory of what we just did, as if our bodies aren't still carrying the remnants of that moment that was ours alone.

When we rejoin the group, a friend turns to Sana, curious. "Hey, where were you? You disappeared for a while."

Sana responds naturally, a slight smile on her lips. "Oh, I was just on the phone... had to take care of a few things." She shrugs it off casually, as if it really was something trivial. But then, she shoots me a quick glance, and in that look, everything that happened between us is there, like a secret we share that connects us in a way no one else could understand.

I hold her gaze a second longer than necessary, smiling back. It's a silent dance we always dance, a bond that goes beyond words.

The night continues, with laughter and conversation, but between Sana and me, there's a subtle tension, an electricity that lingers in the air. She moves close to me from time to time, lightly touching my arm, whispering a joke in my ear, and every time she does, a shiver runs down my spine. The spark between us is always there, waiting for the next moment, the next touch, the next time we're alone.

This is our rhythm now. A game, a dance of secrets and desires. Our friendship, burdened with a love that has blossomed in a way neither of us could have predicted. A love that grows, silent and powerful, always lurking, always reminding us of what we have and what we don't need to explain to anyone. Because only we know, and that's all that matters.

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗮𝘂: 𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘂𝘀. ♥

:feat~ alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari: (warnings~ obsessive behavior + teensy bit of angst)

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu

Lately, you've been playing a lot more Honkai Star Rail…

ALHAITHAM is jealous.

Which is new to him, as someone who just about has everything he could need. Everything, that is, except for you.

It’s nearly been a week since you last logged on.

And that scares him. He knows he should trust you, but the mere thought of you leaving him is enough to make the acting grand tremble. You are his light, and without you, he is dead - nothing.

It’s cold.

He misses your warmth. Your happy laughs and snide remarks he witnesses as you play and read through dialogue, seeing your bright smile through your front camera, all of it  unbeknownst to you.

But, all this time, did that mean nothing to you?

Oh, but all of a sudden, is that you? You’re finally back! The scribe can’t hold back his smile, eyes sparkling as you start to load in. He can feel your comforting presence, something that invigorates him, such a simple thing, yet it fills him with the will to live.

Ah, but something is different.

Who’s this Dan Heng you keep mumbling about with such a… dreamy expression?

No, that couldn’t be right. That look was reserved for him only. How could you think of someone else with that gaze?

Oh, so this is what jealousy feels like.

KAVEH is baffled.

Confused. I mean, is it really all that much to make a fuss about? Sure, you haven’t logged on in a while, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.

He’s confident that you won’t leave him! Because, after all, you said it yourself… something along the lines of “SDFJSDFKLSDJFLK I LVOE KAVEH SO MCUH FDJSGLK” ...Or, at least, that was what you had texted over the chat feature to one of your in game friends.

He adores you, so it’s only natural that he praises every word you speak!

Ah, but what’s this new game on your device?

Honkai… Star Rail? 

I-Is this what you’ve been spending all your time on? Time spent without him?

But why?

It’s only then that Kaveh notices.

The new way you’ve begun to act whenever you occasionally log on, the way you’re growing distracted, the way you sigh as you collect your daily commissions, the way you barely glance at his way, almost tired of the game that he’s in… 

It’s okay, Kaveh tells himself, staring at the ground. The room is dark, and he hasn’t eaten in days, body shaking.

They’ll come around again.

They always do.

CYNO is reconsidering.

All his life, he knows that what he’s been doing is in the light of justice. All his life, he’s known that he is in the right. All his life, he has not doubted his path.

Yet…

“My Eminence, where have you gone?”

The world was so barren without you. You were incomparable, the pure life that radiated from your being gave him a sense of elation that he had never experienced before. It was a honey-like feeling that was shamefully addicting.

Was it his fault that you had left? He should’ve changed for you.

Perhaps he had missed your subtle signs, perhaps you were upset at him - he had to have done something wrong, otherwise, why would this have happened?

“I’m sorry.” His distraught hands hid his expression, his crystal tears, as he knelt before his shrine to you - a secret oblation that he held in his heart, with things he treasured. A lock of your hair, a page from your notebook, a jewel pendant that you had left behind… they were such items that he disgracefully cherished.

“I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll do anything.”

So please, let me see you one more time.

TIGHNARI is acceptant.

He’s knowledgeable in so many things… the wildlife of Sumeru’s rainforest, countless antidotes… he knows the forest like the back of his hand. 

Despite that, he comprehends you more. He knows what makes you smile, what makes you irritated, all of it - because he loves you, even though he knows he shouldn’t. 

You’re someone that’s off limits to a person who’s as lowly as him, as insignificant. Truly, he doesn’t deserve to even be in your presence, but it’s too impossibly warm to resist. After all, the savior is just that benevolent, and your radiance blinds him.

He’s not good enough.

That’s all that can ring through his head when he’s with you. And it’s true to him, because you are perfect in his eyes, and in the eyes of the world. Yet his heart still dares to shamefully race whenever you smile.

So it only makes sense if you leave.

At first, it did come as a surprise, but not much of one. Because he knows he deserved it, and that he was never worthy of your attention in the first place.

Still, his heart aches. But if you’re content, then so is he. Who is Tighnari to argue with your divine judgment?

So, he understands. He understands that you grew tired of him.

Ah, but still, he dares hold a small shred of hope that you’ll come back to see him again.

Is that so sinful?

(a/n) i love the sumeru men too much please send help

[bouncybongfairy]

Hello I have an idea. I don’t know if I already sent you something but I don’t think I did so anyways here is my idea

So void gets into stiles body and he’s walking around thinking about his plans until his friend y/n and asks what’s wrong with him they figure out that stiles is actually void and they start talking back in forth until void says something that’s makes y/n’s werwolf suddenly come out and I mean like eyes glowing and fangs come out and then they start talking about y/n’s werewolf power and that she is a hybrid werewolf and then void asks what y/n does with there “prey” and they say I like to play with my food. He says do to me what you do to your “prey” and she does just that and she pins him to the ground and starts to claw at his back and bits his shoulder but he likes it and it just goes down from there.

If you do it then thank you but if you don’t it’s okay, you probably have better things to worry about :) :)

Cat and Mouse Games

Void Stiles x Werewolf Reader

Summary: Thinking Stiles asked you to hang out excited you. After going on a late night hike, he reveals himself to be Void. He teases and gaslights you into letting him fuck the shit out of you.

Word Count: 2.0k+

TW: Rough Smut, Blood Kink, CNC kink.

Account Ref: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was Friday and you could barely keep your eyes open on the bus. Sleep deprived, also mentally exhausted from the academic and social aspects of school. Regardless of your exhaustion, Stiles invited you to hang out tonight, lately he’s been his own little world. Isolating himself and acting quite withdrawn when he did converse with you. That being said, you didn’t want to brush him off. After getting home you jumped in the shower. Welcoming the hot water burning your shoulders and back. Hoping it would loosen the tightness in your muscles. You cut the water off and stepped out of the tub. After wrapping your hair in a towel, you sit down at your vanity. Drawing a deep breath in and letting it out with a sigh, you start doing your make-up. Of course you wanted to impress, up until a couple weeks ago you thought there was something between the two of you. So now that he was showing interest in you again, it was important that you made your feelings clear. Not to mention Stiles was already so familiar with the supernatural. Once you were ready you texted him to come pick you up. Scrambling to gather your things together while waiting. He texted you a simple: here. Normally he would have called but you brushed that off and made your way outside. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, climbing into the passenger seat of his beat up Jeep.

“How are you?” he asked without looking over. 

“I’m pretty good, tired but good. What about you? I feel like we haven’t hung out in forever,” you chuckled, clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Yeah sorry, I just been discovered new things about myself,” he said. 

“Oooo, so mysterious,” you laugh before continuing, “are you okay though, like mentally? Sorry I don’t mean to pry and you don’t have to answer, I just noticed you’ve been kinda withdrawn lately. Even from Scott,” you said, treading very lightly. 

“I appreciated the concern but like I said, I’ve just been in my own head lately. Realizing things about myself that I needed to deal with, you know?” he asked. 

“Well, I’m just glad that you’re doing better than I thought. I totally understand what you mean, when I get in my head a lot, I usually go on a hike and it really helps. You know, like the fresh air and everything,” you said. 

“That’s crazy because I’ve been doing the same lately. Like nightly walks and stuff to clear my head, can I show you a cool trail I found? It’s one of my favorites,” he suggested and you agreed. 

The ride was pretty chill, just making small talk while the radio played quietly in the background. Even though there was nothing that really stuck out, something was off. Stiles was normally very bubbly and bright. Tonight he was anything but that. Extremely still and calm, never looking over at you when speaking. Keeping his eyes steadily on the road. All his laughs and chuckles seemed forced and dry. Not only that but it was just a feeling in your gut. Finally getting to the hiking trail, your suspicions only grew from there. The conversation was just so surface level, commenting on different plants and random shit. Another thing you noticed, was how unaffected he seemed to be by the cold weather. Eventually you stop entertaining the conversation, just walking in slightly uncomfortable silence.

“It’s a really nice trail right?” he asks. 

“Yeah there are a lot of little critters running around, it’s nice to see how lively it is tonight,” you said. 

“Yeah it’s real unfortunate,” he sighed which made your brows furrow. 

“Unfortunate?” you asked. 

“Well of course, all this prey, just going to waste,” he said, your heart began to race. 

“I’m confused, what do you mean by that,” you asked, slowing your pace down. 

“Oh it’s no secret that you’ve been confused this whole time. Do you think you were good at hiding it? It’s obvious that you think something is off about me, have you come to a conclusion as to why?” he asked, voiced laced with condescension. 

Immediately the realization hits you like a truck; he was Void. Your brain starts flooding with worse case scenarios and questions. Involuntarily your eyes begin to glow and claws come out. Unsure of what to do you just stand and watch him. Nothing in his body language indicated to you that he would try to hurt you. At the same time, you knew what Void was capable of. 

“You know Stiles is still in here and I can’t deny the sexual fantasies he has about you are truly a sight to behold. He is a nasty little guy. He likes the fact that you’re stronger than him. He’s never told you this but watching you hunt gives him a rush like no other. Can’t say I don’t agree-” he tried to continue but was interrupted. 

“What’s your point? Honestly, like… seriously are you just gonna ramble till we both drop dead?” you asked

“Egar are we? Well, like I said I would be lying if I didn’t indulge myself in his fantasies. I mean, look how powerful you are, quite literally an apex predator. Teeth sharper than daggers, claws that can shred flesh like it’s paper. Don’t you wanna give in to your natural instincts?” he asked, making such strong eye contact that you were getting uncomfortable. Shifting back and forth, the fight or flight reflex tethering on the edge of uncontrollable. When you didn’t respond, he continued,

“When you first got turned, it took you a couple months until you could control your impulses right? I just wanna see those instincts in person, how do you normally kill your prey?” he asks. 

“I like to play with it before going for the kill, like hobbling it before finishing the job,” you say quietly, fearing the silence would make you appear weak.

“Say it with your chest, why are you so ashamed of your biological instincts?” he asks, tilting his head to the side a bit, “Show me how you hunt, like i’m your prey,” he half demands half asks. 

“You want me to attack you?” your heart was beating out of your chest, “that’s- I’m not doing that, why would you even want that?” you ask, taking a few steps back. 

“I want to feel your internal conflict, the shift from the good girl persona you sell to well and pull out what’s underneath. A whore that gets off on the most shameful activities. You may fool yourself, however I’m not so easily persuaded,” he said approaching you, he was trying to taunt you and it was working. 

Scott had warned you about how dangerous Void was, that he was the definition of toxicity. Now that he was standing here, inviting you to tear him up the way you would a deer. You felt disgusted that you were actually tempted to attack him. It was true, when you hunted you felt powerful. Like there was nothing that could stop your reign of terror on your chosen prey or target. He was now only a foot away from you, eyes were completely black. Jaw was clenched, indicating that he was getting impatient. Your eyes were locked on him, pushing him back which only hummored him. Becoming irritated with the anxiety building up inside, you turn and walk away. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having a second more of your attention. This infuriated him, an all powerful Nogitsune such as himself was never to be ignored. To be denied a request; seeing you walk away from him only made him watch you unravel you more. 

“You think you can ignore me? The same way you’ve ignored all the urges and needs swarming in your brain on a full moon? I will get what I want out of you, making you act on every sinful desire you have. Even if I have to reach down your throat and rip it out myself!” he roared, stomping towards you while shaking in anger. 

Something in you snapped, the taunting was enough to make you go crazy. All you wanted was for him to shut the fuck up. Jumping on top of him, you use your claws and swipe at his chest. Blood starts seeping through his cotton shirt, taking a look at his face to catch the reaction. To your dismay, he chuckles letting his head fall back. It wasn’t until then that you realized what he meant when saying he wanted to see your internal conflict. This was conflicting; expecting to look up to see him damaged. Normally giving you a satisfied feeling but this was different, normally content in a platonic way. The way his head fell back and the smirk on his face. You couldn’t deny being turned on by how twisted he was. How unaffected he seemed to be by your attacks. Adding another slash across his chest, it felt so good being vicious. For so long you’d bent your instincts to Scott’s mission of keeping the peace in Beacon Hills. Letting your mind be wrapped in a foggy daze while letting your urges run wild was an intoxicating feeling. He pulled his shirt off, hands becoming soaked in blood. He reaches up and takes your face into his hands. Leaving bloody hand prints on your cheeks. Pulling you down so your lips were hovering over one another. You could feel the blood from his chest seep into your shirt. Starting to fall deeper into the kiss, you let your full body weight press onto him. He suddenly flips the two of you over swiftly, now keeping a tight hold on your hair. His hands were sticky with blood, only making for a better grip. 

“Did you really think I'd let you use me to satisfy yourself without a fight?” he asked, holding you down with his body weight. 

Feeling a little too vulnerable, you bite down on his shoulder. Feeling his skin pop as your canines break through. He lets out a loud groan, leaning into the bite which makes your lower stomach burn with pleasure. He pulls your head up slightly by the hair and pulls it back down, indicating he wanted you to let go after a while. You refuse; after realizing he was caught in your jaw, he moves his hands from your hair to your throat. Hair still stuck to his hands, which covered your face as he changed hand placement. At first it seemed like you’d be able to keep this up. Until his grip became tighter and your breathing became strained. Towering over you and focusing most of his weight on your throat. Your vision was becoming blurry and cloudy, you scratched at his shoulders. When this doesn't phase him, you rake your claws down his back. Trying to put in the last of your strength into shredding his back before passing out. 

Void watched as your eyes become glossy, the feeling of your nails in his back making him rock hard. Chuckling as your arms went limp, falling off his back and to the ground. He let go of your throat and turned his attention to your body. He lifted your skirt and pulled your panties to the side. Muttering a couple curses as he uses his fingers to feel how wet you were. Even your thighs were wet and sticky from you leaking desperately for his cock. He uses one hand to rub himself against your entrance and the other hand to start slapping your chest. Watching you bounce as he tried waking you up. Once you started coming to, he began fucking himself into you. Moaning as you started becoming more aware of what was happening. Blood drips from his back and shoulder onto your body. The only thing you were focused on was chasing your orgasm. Rocking your hips into him, trying to get him as deep as possible. Noticing this, his thrusts become rough and fast. His hip bones piercing into your ass painfully. Gripping your hips hard enough to embed his nails into your skin. 

“What kind of whore gets off on this? Are you that desperate for attention?” he taunted as he destroyed your pussy. 

You let your body go limp, enjoying and accepting anything he had to offer. He moved his hands back to your throat. Seeing your face turn red and gasping for air was what sent him over the edge. His climax racking through his body, you came slightly before him. Seeing how your helplessness and pain was enough to make him cum was what made you climax. By the time both of you rode out the highs, you felt completely worn out. Like your body was carrying the weight of a ton, forcing you to stay on the ground. His shoes walking away were the last thing you saw before losing consciousness.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Do Ghost and Jade's kids don't know about their careers (or in Jade's case, former career)? Cause the comic you made of Andrew seeing Ghost in the middle of the night sorta implies they don't know about their parents' military background.

HMMM HM HM Good catch right there 👀👀

So this is also a part of what I've been thinking inside the Riley family after they have kids.

- I feel like the kids would definitely know about Simon's career as a soldier. BUT, as they are still in their early teens, I'd imagine that Andrew, Gracie, and later Orion know that their dad is a soldier, but that's the extent of their knowledge. They do know about Simon's nickname "Ghost", but they don't know how Simon operates inside the Task Force, they're not aware that their dad is an officer of one of the most elite and dangerous task force in the world. As far as they know, their dad only has edgy hobbies that involves black outfits and skull/skeleton themed. Heck, they even made fun of his preferences in outfits.

- But dear God, they never saw him in a full-on combat gear, in the dark of the night.

- Ghost is an officer, so day by day, he'd left the house with open face, and only wears the mask inside the car. After work day, he'd take off the mask before entering the house. If he's too tired, he'd try to sneak in in the deep of the night without making a sound. He'd sworn to himself that 'Ghost' will never enter his family and children's house/lives. They do not need trouble and his dangerous line of work to enter the one thing he cherishes the most.

- However, once you have kids, you can't hide anything forever. They'll find out by themselves (in this case, Andrew is entering his puberty and needs some midnight munchies). Simon and Lottie knows this, so they already have everything figured out. What would Andrew's reaction be, what would Gracie's reaction be, what would Orion's reaction be. They've discussed what they'd reveal, and what they'd still keep a secret, again, until they're old enough to know. They tread VERY carefully about it.

- About their mother though, that's a whole different story. After their marriage, Jade has strictly commited to be a mother for her kids, and opened a branch of The Garden in Herefordshire. She's an ✨ entrepreneur ✨. She's not that active to be called into deployment as before she had kids. If she's used to be 60% florist and 40% TF141 ally, after she had kids she'd be 98% Mum and Florist, and 2% TF141 Ally. Her kids literally only knows her as a florist, and that's it. Up until their late teens, Andrew, Gracie, and Orion would have no clue nor idea about her past with MI6. She didn't lie, she's just holding the truth until they're big enough to understand.

- In fact, Ghost BEGGED and asked Jade to not be active inside the TF141 or any conflicts anymore, considering Ghost would be deployed a lot (and how he's promoted to Captain and above), he'd want his wife to be with her kids. Jade herself also agreed, but she also told Ghost to not die and do stupid stuff. Even though married and less involved in the TF141 business, her resolve stayed the same. If he's missing, she'd pick up the guns in a heartbeat.

- Now, back to the kids. I'd imagine that because of how eventful each of Simon and Lottie's lives are, it sort of like become a game to the family. Each birthdays of the kids, Simon has established a "3 Question" rule game, where the kids can ask their parents anything about their lives. From Andrew and Orion, it's usually trivial and simple stuffs like "What's the naughtiest things you've ever done" "What's your favorite bla bla bla". HOWEVER, with Gracie, its always "What's your favourite mission?" "What's the worst condition of a dead body you've ever find?" "Who's the most difficult bad man you've ever encountered?" "Where is he now?"

- Ghost and Jade would answer with only two sentences. Looking at each other for approval. Gracie is most definitely Simon's daughter with that line of questioning. BUT, again, with every birthdays, and with their increasing age and they become more mature, they'll reveal everything bit after bit.

- By the time they finally know everything about their parents, they'd be in college years, probably, and Simon would no longer be the Ghost (he might be one of the higher ranked officer at this point), and Lottie would be completely out of the Task Force 141 game, becoming a regular civilian. Still, it'd be a legendary story to tell.

WOOHOO I kinda yapped a bit there, but hope that answer your question!

[lucy90712]

Is it too late?- Pedri

WC: 3.2k

Pregnant. The two lines on the stick were staring back at me as I looked at them in disbelief. My mind couldn't decide whether to be happy or to have a breakdown so I just stood there emotionless until tears started coming down my face but I couldn't tell you if they were happy tears or not. Part of me is a little bit excited as Pedri and I have been together for a few years now and as much as we haven't spoken too much about having kids we both said we'd like to start a family of our own one day so why not let that day be now. The more I thought about it the more the anxiety faded as I know Pedri will be a great dad and as long as I have him I know we will figure it out together. 

Pedri's not home as he's playing so I have a bit of time to figure out how to tell him. I didn't go to the game as I've been so sick the last few days which is why I took the test in the first place. With it being late I don't have many options and time isn't on my side as it's already half time so I don't have too long until Pedri comes home. My first thought was to tell someone to get their help but I stopped myself as I want Pedri to be the first person to know that we are going to bring life into the world. I really want this moment to be special so after a lot of scrolling through Pinterest I decided to go for something relatively simple but cute at the same time. 

After the game I got everything set up and waited for Pedri downstairs with my surprise hidden waiting for him when he got home. The more time that passed the more nervous I got and I started to wonder if Pedri would be happy at all I mean his career is still taking off and he's always busy will he really want to be tied down by a child. When the door opened those thought went away for a second until I saw Pedri's face and I could tell something was wrong. For a moment I wondered if he somehow knew and wasn't happy but then I remembered that there is no way he could know as I hadn't told a soul yet. Knowing it wasn't that I was suddenly even more nervous than before as it means there's something else that's wrong. What if he's injured again that would just be soul crushing for the both of us.

"Is everything ok babe?" I asked 

"Everything's fine but there's something I need to tell you" he said 

"There's something I need to tell you too" I said nervously 

"Hopefully we are on the same page then because I think we should break up" he said like it was nothing 

"W-what" I questioned 

"I'm sorry y/n but nows just not the time for me to be in a relationship there's too much going on in my life and I don't want something always tying me down" he explained 

"Ok" is all I could reply 

"What were you going to say?" He asked 

"Don't worry about it it's not important now" I said 

"Ok well you can stay here for as long as you need I'm sorry things had to end this way" he said 

No other words left my mouth I just took myself off to our bedroom and locked the door to be alone with my thoughts. Only after I sat down did it really hit me he just broke up with me and I'm pregnant with his child. What do I do now? I have to tell him right but nows surely not the time there's too many emotions and I know Pedri will say we should get back together even though that's clearly not what he wants. Do I even keep the baby I mean can I do this on my own. 

After freaking out for a minute I decided to be sensible and write down all of my worries then figure each of them out. First I decided that I would tell Pedri just not tonight as he needs to know but it doesn't have to be right this second. Then I decided that I could do this myself I have a degree and a good job plus I never actually sold my apartment when I moved in with Pedri a few months ago so I have somewhere to live. The more I thought about it the less daunting it all became sure it will be a lot as pregnancy and becoming a single mother will be hard but I can do it. 

As I'd made my decisions I started to pack all of my things including what I'd made to tell Pedri I was pregnant because as much as it hurts to look at now I want to keep it for the memories a few years down the line. Pedri was nice enough to help me get all of my things in my car and even offered to take some things himself but I refused and I just came back for them after dropping off the first lot of things. By the time I had moved out fully it was the middle of the night and Pedri was in bed so I looked around his house one last time before leaving my keys on the side and getting in my car. On the drive to my apartment I did nothing but cry, all of the tears I had been holding in all came out at once like a river flowing down my face. The tears didn't stop either they continued all night until I physically had no more tears to cry. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Text message 

Hey Pedri there is something important I need you to know I know we aren't together anymore but can we meet to talk or at least call it's not something you should find out over text

Not delivered 

Instagram dm

Hey Pedri we really need to talk please text me 

Not delivered 

Snapchat 

Pedri please we need to talk 

Not delivered 

~~~~~~~~~~

Pedri's POV

"Where are we going?" Gavi asked as I drove us both to get lunch together 

"There's a cafe not far from here and it's really good so we are going there" I replied 

"Oh I know that one didn't you say that was y/n's favourite place" he said 

"Can we stop talking about y/n we've been broken up for nearly 7 months now" I said getting annoyed 

"Sorry it's just you mention her sometimes and I know Fermin said he saw her around here the other day" he said

"So she still lives here I thought she might go back home" I thought out loud 

"I thought we weren't talking about y/n" he said 

All I did was roll my eyes as I parked the car. He's not wrong though y/n is often on my mind and sometimes I still find myself bringing her up in conversation. It only took a few days before I regretted breaking up with her it was such an awful decision but once I'd done it I couldn't go back she always said once something was done it's done so I knew she'd never take me back. I blocked her on everything so that I wouldn't be reminded of her but that didn't help as my brain couldn't forget and still to this day when I see certain things or go certain places I am reminded of her. 

She was truly everything to me she was there for every good moment but also all of the bad ones. If I didn't have her I have no idea where I'd be now I wouldn't be as strong as I am mentally that's for sure she taught me so much and always encouraged me even on the hardest of days. Everyday I looked forward to coming home and seeing her either making dinner or sat reading a book which she used to love doing in fact I still have one book she gave me insisting I read it and sometimes I am tempted but I have yet to even turn a page on it. Letting her go was such a stupid decision I can't believe I ever thought she was holding me back let alone thinking about it for long enough to actually break up with her. I don't know what was wrong with me but I definitely regret it I don't think I'll ever find a girl like her again but honestly that's what I deserve for being such an idiot. 

Gavi and I went into the cafe and got our food before sitting down at a table in the corner so we were out the way and out of sight from the street and people already in the cafe. We were talking like normal about training until I noticed Gavi staring at something behind me. As I went to turn around to see what he was looking at he stopped me so I assumed it was a girl he liked or someone he didn't want to see. The longer he kept staring the more he looked like he really wanted to say something which had me thinking it wasn't just someone he didn't want to see. 

"What is going on?" I asked 

"Nothing" he replied bluntly 

"I know you are lying just tell me what's going on" I said 

"But you told me not to" he said 

"What the hell do you mean" I said 

"Y/n is stood over there with a friend I assume" he said 

"I don't care mate we can be in the same place I will survive" I quipped 

"It's not just that she looks pregnant well not just looks she has to be pregnant and quite far along too" he finally spat out 

There was nothing he could do to stop me turning around after that and he was right she was stood talking to a friend with a hand on her belly. She was definitely pregnant like about to pop pregnant. That's when the memories of the night we broke up came flooding back she said she had something to tell me but she never told me what it was. It really made me wonder if she was going to tell me she was pregnant because I can imagine after I broke up with her she wouldn't want to tell me and I blocked her afterwards so she'd have no way to reach out. Of course it's possible that she's not as far along as I think and she's with someone else now but I can't help but feel like that's not the case. 

Gavi tried to talk me out of the spiral I had got myself into but it was too late. How could someone forget about the fact that their ex is in the same place visibly pregnant with a baby that could be theirs. I have to know even if the baby is mine or not and if she wants nothing to do with me I would completely understand I just have to know. We did talk about having kids and we both said that we wanted to start a family together one day but what if that day is nearly here and I had no idea. Part of me was hoping it was my baby as I don't think I can handle the thought of her being with someone else that isn't me while I'm still hung up on her. 

Without really thinking I got up and made my way over to y/n Gavi tried to stop me but I didn't listen to him I continued to weave my way around the tables int he cafe until my eyes locked with y/n's. She looked at me and I looked at her before looking down at her bump which was a lot more obvious now even though she was clearly trying to hide it. The friend she was with left and I used that as my chance to make my way over and sit across from her. 

Your POV

Life is hard enough as it is at the moment with me being 8 months pregnant and doing everything alone the last thing I needed was to see Pedri especially as I was never able to contact him to tell him but there he was stood in front of me. Once my eyes caught his I couldn't look away. I watched as his eyes flitted to my bump which I tried my best to hide but at this point it's literally impossible. There was a few seconds where I was hoping he would think that I'd moved on and was with someone else so wouldn't bother me but as soon as he started walking in my direction I knew that the situation I had been dreading had finally occurred. It's finally time to face the music and tell Pedri everything or as much as he wants to hear as its a lot to take in all at once it took me a long time to accept the situation.

He sat down across from me and we just sat in silence for a while neither of us really knowing how to start this conversation. As Pedri was staring the baby started kicking like crazy it was like she knew her dad was sat across from me and was begging me to tell him. Feeling her kicks made me think about the time Pedri told me he'd love to have a daughter as there isn't many girls in his family and he wanted to spoil her rotten which now was all I could think about as I sat carrying the daughter he wanted. The only thing that could break the intense eye contact between the two of us was my phone vibrating in front us both reminding me of my doctors appointment this afternoon. 

"So how have you been?" Pedri asked finally breaking the silence 

"I've been ok busy with work what about you" I said 

"Yeah I've been ok just got back playing after a few injuries" he said 

"I'm sorry to be so straightforward but I have to know is the baby mine?" He asked 

"Yes the baby is yours I'm really sorry I didn't tell you I was going to tell you the night we broke up then when I tried to reach out but I couldn't I probably should've tried harder but there was a lot going through my mind" I explained 

"Its ok it's my fault that I didn't know I'm sorry I haven't been there to support you" he said 

"Let's not get too hung up on that I know you probably have a lot of questions so just go ahead and ask me anything" I said 

"How about we get out of here and go somewhere more private to talk about everything" he suggested 

I agreed it was best to go somewhere else and Pedri offered to drive us both to his as I didn't bring my car so that's what we did. Pedri was so sweet he helped me into his car after he realised how slow I walk now because of all the extra weight I'm carrying. When we arrived at his place he did his best to make me comfortable but there wasn't much he could do as at this point in pregnancy I'm always uncomfortable. He did get me some water and while he was gone I looked around his place. It hadn't changed at all since the last time I was here he still had all of the pictures of us up and the book I'd given him a while back was still sitting in the coffee table unread. It felt as though nothing had changed while I was sat there which weirdly made me smile. 

The last 7 months since the breakup have been chaotic but still most nights I think about Pedri and how things would be different if we hadn't broken up. I still miss Pedri because as much as he broke my heart I still think he's the love of my life and it's not easy to get over such strong feelings like that especially when you have a constant reminder of that person growing inside you. If I could turn back time and stop the break up I definitely would and honestly if Pedri wanted to get back together I wouldn't hesitate to say yes although I would definitely want to take things slow and work on our issues. 

"So how far along are you?" He asked giving me my water and sitting back down

"I'm 8 months now my due date is the middle of next month" I said 

"And did you find out the gender?" He asked 

"I did we're having a girl just like you said you wanted" I said 

"She's kicking right now if you want to feel" I said 

He nodded his head so I took hold of his hand and placed it on my bump right where I could feel the kicks. It could be the hormones talking but watching the way his eyes lit up and feeling his daughter kick and seeing the bright smile on his face nearly made me cry. The kicks got stronger the longer his hand was on my bump which was cute until they started to really hurt which made Pedri panic when I started to groan at the pain but I reassured him everything was ok. He rubbed his hand over my bump telling our little girl to settle down before taking his hand back off which again melted my heart. 

We still had a lot more discuss so I told him everything and I even gave him an ultrasound picture which I always keep on me. I could tell it was a lot for him to take in but he kept asking questions and listening to everything I said. I was worried that he would be really dismissive and want to pretend that we aren't in this situation and the baby isn't his but he actually seems to really care. After I answered all of his questions and showed him all of the millions of pictures and videos I had we again sat in silence not really knowing where to go next. 

"Do you want to get back together" Pedri suddenly blurted out 

"Sorry that was the wrong way to do that I know I hurt you and I'm really sorry I have regretted it every day since you are the one for me and I realise that now I understand if you don't want to but at least consider it" he said 

"I would love to get back together I have missed you everyday we've been apart but if we are going to give this another go we need to do it slowly and I think we should go to therapy to give our daughter the best environment to grow up in" I said

"I'll do anything you want me to if it means I can have you back" he said 

He leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips which made me realise just how much I really have missed him and how glad I am to have him back. 

[paleprincessturtle]

Ruined Plan

I'm back again! Happy reading and please excuse any inaccuracies in my writing.

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Female Reader 

Donna stared at her screen in disbelief and gasped. She closed her eyes and looked at the screen one more time and looked behind her, at her boss’ office. She printed the document on her computer and invited herself into Harvey’s office. She waited in front of Harvey’s desk while he was on the phone. Not long after Harvey hung up the phone and he raised his eyebrows at Donna. “Are you going to say something or are you just gonna stand there looking like fish out of water?” Harvey said as he jolted down something on a document in front of him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Donna asked him in disbelief. “Tell you that I’m the best closer this town has ever seen? I think the world knows, Donna.” Harvey smirked and looked back down at the document. “If it’s a guessing game, we have to pen it down for another day. As you know, this case has been going on for far too long.” Donna didn't say a thing but instead slid the document she printed just minutes ago. Harvey peeked at the document and asked “Why are you looking through my bank statement?”

Donna rolled her eyes so hard, for a second she was scared it won’t get back. “To make your usual monthly financial report, Harvey. What else?” Harvey waved the page absentmindedly in the air. “And what am I supposed to do with this?” Donna leaned on his desk and pointed to a specific date. “Cartier? That much? On a lunch break?” Donna asked as she straightened herself. “You’re proposing,” Donna said matter of factly. Harvey grinned so wide that it scared Donna. “The thought was just so sudden and I thought why not.” Harvey shrugged. “And why didn’t you ask for my help to pick out the perfect ring?” Donna paced in front of his desk, looking like the world was about to collapse. Again, Harvey just shrugged. “The ring must be here. Show me the ring.” Harvey squinted his eyes at her. “Harvey, I swear to God if you choose not to show me the ring, I’ll turn your office upside down and nothing will stop me.” Harvey put his hands up in defense and retrieved a key inside a little compartment underneath one of his basketball cases and opened a middle drawer in his desk. He carefully took the box and handed it to Donna. With the same care, Donna took the box in her hand. “Let’s see if we can return this ring if it turns out to lo…” Donna said seriously and stopped herself once she opened the box fully. “Well?” Harvey stood up with his hands in his pockets and smirked.

Donna nodded and grinned “Wow, you’ve outdone yourself. This looks beautiful, simple yet elegant. And jeez, Harvey. Are you trying to blind anyone who looks her way?” Harvey’s smirks grew significantly bigger. “Kinda need to show everyone she’s off the market.” He said proudly and Donna burst into a huge fit of laughter at the prospect of seeing Harvey finally getting married and most importantly, happy. “I know this case is important and you’re swamped. But let’s take 30 minutes to plan the actual proposal. This is a very important matter, Harvey." Donna sat at the chair in front of Harvey’s desk and moved his laptop to face her. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of his own phone startled Harvey. He doesn’t remember when was the last time he looked up from piles upon piles of documents on his desk. He cracked his neck before he moved the documents around to find his phone. Harvey instantly smiled. “If it isn’t the most gorgeous girlfriend a man could ever ask for.” Harvey leaned back in her leather chair as he was immersed in the sound of laughter from the other side of the line. “Flattery won’t bring you anywhere, Mr. Specter.” Harvey smiled “But I’m known for my flattery and charm.” Harvey paused, “Is everything okay?” he suddenly worried as to why she called and it was not even 10 am. “All is well, Commander. Just asking if you could pencil me down for a lunch picnic today?” His heart heaved suddenly, Heaven knows how much he wanted to go and how hard it is to say no to her. But at least she wasn't here to show him the pout. “Oh baby, as much as I love the idea, I’m seriously swamped.” Harvey heard a big sigh and the sound of the fridge door closed. “Still?” he heard her pout. Damn it, Harvey thought. He thought not being with her and not seeing the pout will help. But now, he heard her pout. Great. “Unfortunately, still. I’ll make it up to you. Okay?” Harvey tried to reason with her as he thought of the getaway Donna and him planned earlier and smiled. “No worries, baby. Good luck with your case, okay? Don’t forget to ask Donna to bring you something for lunch. Don’t forget to eat lunch or I’ll send the SWAT team down there to shove a hotdog down your throat.” Harvey laughed heartily at her threat. “I won’t. Gotta go, the DA office called. I love you.” Harvey heard a cheerful I love you as he hung up.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Donna entered Harvey’s office exactly at 1.30 pm. “Your 1.30 appointment is here.” Harvey looked up, bewildered. “What appointment? I told you to clear up my schedule today. I’m busy.” Before Harvey saw her, he already smelled the mixture of vanilla and rose. “Even for me?” she said sweetly as Donna left the room and closed the door behind her. Harvey stood up immediately and walked up to her. “You’re too busy now for me, Mr. Naming Partner?” she smirked as Harvey enveloped her in his embrace. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long. I called Donna and she told me you refused lunch. So I took matters into my own hands and made you lasagna. I’ll only drop this.” she gestured to a lunch bag that he realized just now. “I thought you'd send a SWAT team? You’re damn pretty for I thought would be 10 bulky men.” Harvey said as he gently squeezed her ass and smirked before delicately pecking her lips. “Harvey!” she slapped her hand across his chest. “No fraternizing in the office!” she scolded, face all serious. “You won’t work here until at least another month. You’re here as my girlfriend. And maybe we could make use of the copy room? Or hmm, the file room?” She laughed though he earned another slap across his chest. “I thought you were busy? Come on, eat your lunch.” She separated herself from Harvey’s arms and he involuntarily frowned at the absence of her in his arms. She opened the lunch bag and laid down the food containers on another side of his larger desk for him to eat. “Come, Harvey. You should eat.” she frowned and she called for Harvey. He sat down and now he felt hungry. Between the sight and the smell of this lasagna, he realized that he has been working on an empty stomach. “That ain’t so hard, right?” Harvey nodded, mouth full of food. “Are these the files you've been going through since last night?” she gestured to the ones on the table and a few boxes near his desk. Again, Harvey nodded. “Won’t you eat with me?” He opened the lunch bag to find another lasagna for her. “Meh, I’ve had lunch at home. Thought I will just drop your lunch,” she said as she squatted beside one of the boxes. “I’ll take half of these files. You finished your lunch first.” She took a few boxes with her and brought them to his sofa. “Babe, you don’t have to. You’re not even working here yet, the merger isn’t yet effective. Go out and have a spa day or something. Thank you, but I have it handled.” Harvey said after he gulped a big amount of water. “I won’t have it, Harvey. I’m free to help and I won’t go. Well unless you call the SWAT team." They smirked at each other as she flopped down the sofa and started with the box on the very top. Harvey stared at her as he chowed down the last bit of his lunch. How come he scored such a beauty? She leaned her back, documents opened in front of her, as she pouted while fully concentrating on the task at hand. She folded both legs, hitched her summer dress, and revealed her smooth thighs. What a pretty sight, he thought to himself. Since 3 days ago Mike got sick, this is the first day he felt happy by the news. He looked down at his lunch and something occurred to him so suddenly. He just realized how devoted she is to him. Her bringing him lunch now wasn’t the first time. She’s taking good care of him. They had been together for a tad more than a year now since she was working with her previous firm, been living together for over 7 months now Even when she was busy working, he always got home to dinner. Sometimes even home-cooked lunches brought by herself to his office. The warm baths she always knew he needed without him saying anything. How she knew what to pour him. White, red, whiskey, or bourbon. How all his friends love her. Adore her even. That never really happened with his previous partners.

He had to make her his now. Scratch that, he needed to make her his now. He moved carefully to his desk, as carefully as he could without disturbing her. He took the key and opened the drawer. He checked the box and sighed in relief as he saw the ring still in place.  He sat up straight and fixed his tie before walking up to her. She didn't even bother to look up, thought he must've needed something from one of the boxes she took. It then caught her attention when she saw him standing on one knee. “Harvey?” she looked at him quizzically. He pulled out the red box from his suit jacket and she gasped. She put her legs down, both hands covered her mouth as he opened the box. Exposing the ring. “This is not how I, actually me and Donna, planned it. We were supposed to be in Boboli Garden when I asked you this question. But I can’t wait that long. You are my life and I never loved anyone as much as I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. Marry me.” Harvey looked at her sincerely and his eyes glistened. “Yes” her voice was just above a whisper. “Yes yes yes! An infinite amount of yes!!” She shrieked. Harvey smiled widely as he slid the ring down her slender finger. She put up her hand and admired the ring “Goodness, this is beautiful.” Harvey wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her up with him before spinning her around. Harvey stopped, her feet still hadn't touched the ground. Their foreheads touched as they grinned at each other. “I love you so much” she whispered as she closed their distance. “Not even in a proposal will Harvey Specter ask” Both of them laugh, as they kiss again. They separated in shock as Donna swung open the door so hard. She inspected the sight before her and screamed “HARVEY HOW COULD YOU PROPOSE TO HER IN YOUR OWN OFFICE?!?! WE'VE MADE A PLAN!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note: Feel free to send me some story ideas. Thanks!

MASTERLIST

[giveafike]

can you do the sfw alphabet for benny too just because the prompts are soooo cute and fluffy 😭 part 2 was so good btw!!! ur v talented i’m jealous

TLDR: SFW alphabet! I borrowed the format from other SFW alphabets I've seen round here! Also lwky long sorry again guys. BUT HAPPY BDAY BEN DAY WOOHOOO

Warnings + Content Ahead: fem reader. SFW, mild swearing (that's my bad) - no real warnings, I don't think?

Azzie Notes ✚: HIII!! i love u sm. I fear...I'm writing part 3 of Game, Set, Match by popular demand (another surprise!) 😭😭 I'm so happy it's getting love tho, that's my first baby on here fr, she's doing well for herself!

I am NOT a good writer, I literally start writing and then jump ahead and on a whole other plot, it takes me ages to fill the plot in the middle. I just want them to kiss n shit bro wdymmm they need to flirt 😭? But ty sm for the compliments and the love!

Also Sorry I take SO long to write stuff bro but I really am swamped - IRL is STRESSSINGGG me out atm (I am FUCKED!), I love sitting here and writing and hashing everything over n over to make sure it's good and adding bits in and I'm not making any mistakes and all that. ANYWAYS!

Anyways, this should go wo saying: all assumptions and guesses, girl idfk anything!!! Shits lwky kinda canon, idk I’m just daydreaming!! Enjoy!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Ben’s not overly clingy, but he’s naturally affectionate in an easy, effortless way. In public, he loves to kiss your forehead, temples, or the top of your head. He might sling an arm around your shoulders or hold your waist when you’re together. He’s also big on playful touches, holding your hand, squeezing it gently, or resting his hand on your thigh while driving. He def likes it when you're holding onto his arm or leaning into him, it makes him feel good knowing you're reaching out for him just as much as he does for you. He’s tactile in a casual, unspoken way, always reaching out to connect with you.

He’d call you simple pet names or silly nicknames, nothing too over the top. When he’s talking about you in interviews or with friends, it’s always, “My baby did this” or “My girl said that” with that casual and proud tone that shows how happy he is to have you in his life and to show you off.

Ben’s love language is just as much about thoughtfulness as it is physical affection. He’s always on the lookout for things that will make you smile, whether that's chocolate that you both like or buying you Sonny Angel dolls or Miffy collectables when he’s on tour. When he gets back, he’ll sit you between his legs while you open them, playing along with you as you guess what’s inside, laughing at how happy you are. He'd feel like the world's best boyfriend seeing how excited and happy you are, like damn I did well this time, I need to do even better next time.

And if you need something for an event, like a dress or accessories, he’s on it immediately, finding the nicest options, and spoiling you with little jewellery pieces just because. I feel like he'd even download Pinterest and follow your boards so he knows what you're into and he'd walk into shops and stores showing them the Pinterest boards and your selfies, like "Okay so this is my girl, do you think she'd pick this?" He loves surprising you, especially when he knows you’ll be excited.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

We all know Ben to be very agreeable and social amongst so many people so I think if you were to start off as friends, he'd be constantly trying to make you laugh, bantering, teasing you and have casual touches like bear hugs when he sees you, fist bumps, hi-fives; the whole lot.

I think he'd want his partner to be able to riff back and forth with him - make jokes, mock and trashtalk him a bit but also support him and keep him smiling. I imagine on his off days when he has a bunch of things to do, like cleaning his car and grocery lists, he'd want you to tag along and bribe you with food, not that you needed a bribe. As your friendship deepens, late-night deep convos where you both open and more intimate interactions are common, like leaning on his shoulder, hugging his arm, wrapping his arms around your shoulders or lying down on your lap.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I don't think Ben's the type to constantly initiate cuddling and spooning, but if you curl up beside him, his arms are around you instinctively and immediately.

After a tough match or a long stretch of tour, he might collapse onto the couch beside you, resting his head on your shoulder, craving your warmth. He loves it when you play with his hair or plant soft kisses on his head, it’s a quiet way for him to recharge.

On days when you’re feeling down, he’ll be the one letting you curl up on his chest, holding you close, rubbing your back, and kissing your temple.

During movie nights, he’ll keep an arm lazily draped across the back of your seat, his hand occasionally running down to your waist to pull you closer. He loves it when you rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with that soft smile that melts his heart every time.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Ben has said before that he can’t cook too well, but I think he’s downplaying it. He’s the type who can whip up something surprisingly good, especially if it’s a laid-back date night at home or after you’ve had a long day. His go-to (especially if you're rushing to college or work) is probably a smoothie—he makes a mean one.

But if he tried something delicious on tour and thought you’d love it, you can bet he’d try recreating it even if it takes way longer than it should. The recipe says 45 minutes? He’s probably spending three hours to make sure every little detail is perfect, especially if it’s for you. You might find him deep in concentration, the kitchen a bit messy, an apron poorly tied around his waist, but smiling at himself for nailing that final touch. He's even more proud when he sees you enjoying it.

On days when you’re cooking or baking, Ben’s your eager sous-chef. He’ll lean on the kitchen island, talking about his day, tasting what you’re making, and sneaking in little hugs from behind. Expect him to get playful and enthusiastic, acting like he’s in a cooking competition, throwing out “Yes, Chef!” and “Taste and stir? You got it, Chef!” with that cheeky grin of his.

When it comes to cleaning, though, he’s a bit more of a messy guy. You might find his sweaty kits or gear tossed on the floor after a long day of practice. But the minute you call him out, he’s on it, throwing it in the washing machine without hesitation, and eventually, he won’t even need to be told. He's just a big, goofy kid.

As for settling down, Ben wants it one day, but not just yet. He’s got a lot of life to experience with you by his side, whether it’s chasing adventures, or just living in the moment together. He loves the idea of marriage and kids down the line, but he wants to make sure that when that chapter comes, he’s ready and settled enough to be fully present. For now, he’s focused on making memories and achievements, but when the time is right, he’ll be all in for the next big step.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Ben had to end a relationship, I think he’d do it with honesty and respect. He’s not one to ghost or avoid confrontation, so he’d sit down and have a mature conversation. He’d choose a calm, private space, somewhere that feels safe. He'd let you know that he cares and loves you but you're both in different directions with different needs. He would want to part on good terms. He’d make sure you feel heard and understood, and hope to stay civil and supportive.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Ben takes commitment seriously and doesn’t want to rush into it too fast. He wants to be sure of the relationship’s foundation before even thinking about marriage. He believes in growing together first.

Once he’s ready, though, he’d propose in a way that feels meaningful to both of you. No grand public gestures, just something intimate, maybe a quiet beach walk at sunset, or a cozy evening at home, where it’s just the two of you and the life you’ve built together.

I can imagine him getting your friends and family to help set it up, let them in on it and get their approval, but the moment would be about only you two, nothing and no one else.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Ben is incredibly gentle, both physically and emotionally like super, super sweet and kind.  He’s always mindful of his strength and size, so his touches are light and tender, like brushing a strand of hair behind your ear or softly tracing your fingers when you hold hands. He'd talk to you in a softer voice than what he uses with his friends or during press conferences, he knows you hear him without needing all the extra noise or refined answers.

Emotionally, if Ben has learned anything from tennis, he’s more than patient and understanding. If you’re upset or feeling low, he’ll give you space to express yourself, asking, “Do you want to talk or just need a hug?” He’s always there, never pushing, but always ready to support you however you need. Even if he's away, he knows it can be hard and difficult but he'd send you gentle, sweet voice messages and videos, and if possible even call, just to remind you that you're always on his mind and in his heart.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Ben loves hugs, but they’re more of a casual, comforting thing than a constant need. He'd love the feeling of you hugging him, nestling and melting into him, your arm barely wrapping around him.

His bear hugs are warm, firm, and reassuring like he’s grounding you in the moment. He’ll give you a tight squeeze when he sees you after being apart or after a long day, pulling you close with a smile. If you’re having a rough time, his hugs linger a little longer, with a few kisses into your hair, making sure you feel safe. He’s not one to initiate a hug every five minutes, but when he does, it’s like being wrapped in warmth and love.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Ben wouldn't rush to say “I love you,” but once he’s sure of his feelings, he’s not afraid to express them. It’ll likely come out naturally during a quiet, intimate moment, maybe during pillow talk when you’re both just lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing with a few jokes that make you both tear up laughing, clutching your sides and sweet sentiments. “You know I love you, baby, right?” he’d say softly, his eyes soft and serious.

After that, he’d say it often, but always when it feels genuine, never just out of habit, but because he truly means it every time. He wouldn't be able to end a phone call or text you goodnight without saying it, and if you didn't say it, he's ringing you back until he hears it from you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ben is secure in himself and in your relationship, so jealousy isn’t a huge issue for him, he’s confident in what you share, but he’s definitely not above feeling a little territorial from time to time. Especially if someone’s getting too friendly with you. In those moments, you’ll feel his presence shift subtly, he’s stepping in closer, maybe pulling you by your waist or slipping his hand around your lower back, fingers pressing a bit more firmly than usual. A kiss on your cheek, sending a clear message without making a fuss.

He’s not one to let jealousy turn into drama, though. He’ll tease you about it later, flashing that grin of his, saying something like, "You just have that effect on people, don’t you?" with a playful wink, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that tells you he’s serious about keeping what’s his. He’s protective of what’s his, especially when it comes to you. He likes knowing that people can see how much he cares about you and that you belong together. And when the world sees it, he feels even more secure in the bond you two share.

If it ever really bothered him, he wouldn’t bottle it up. Instead, he’d bring it up later in private, maybe when you're together after a long day. “Hey, just so you know, it got to me a little earlier. I know you didn’t do anything, but…” His voice would trail off, a little sheepish, but he’d look you in the eye, wanting to clear the air. You'd reassure him with words, kisses and cuddles.

He'd feel so good when you are talking about him or introducing him by calling him "my man" or "my boyfriend"; "my" anything really. It shows he's yours, just as much as you’re his. It’s a quiet reassurance for him, something that makes his chest swell a little every time. You’d probably notice that his mood lightens immediately, his arms pulling you in closer, maybe pressing a kiss to your forehead, mumbling something like, "Yeah, that’s right. I’m your man" with his big, gummy smile. He’d feel all the tension at ease, knowing that in your eyes, he’s your person, your only person, and that’s more than enough to keep him grounded.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He wouldn't often be the one to pepper you with kisses all the time, but after a great win or a long time without seeing you or sometimes, just because, he would kiss you all over.

Ben’s kisses are playful and sweet, starting as quick pecks that sometimes turn into more passionate moments when the mood is right and when you're both alone. He loves kissing your forehead or the top of your head, there’s something incredibly tender about it that feels both protective and loving. It’s his way of saying, “I’ve got you” without using words.

He’s also big on a quick peck of your cheek or lips when you’re least expecting it, just to get a smile out of you. He finds joy in kissing your nose, too, making it a little game where he tries to make you laugh, and you both end up giggling.

As for being kissed, he loves it when you surprise him with soft kisses on his jawline or neck. You’ll notice him pause, eyes closed, savouring the moment.

There’s a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he revels in the affection, a warmth spreading through him that speaks volumes about how cherished he feels. These little gestures mean the world to him; they’re reminders that he’s loved and adored.

He also enjoys being kissed in unexpected places. Like the small of his back when he’s cooking or when you lean in to whisper something silly in his ear and kiss his earlobe. Or perhaps, when you kiss his chest, telling him it's you "kissing his sweet and kind heart". It catches him off guard and fills him with joy, making him melt and pull you in for a tighter embrace. He’s all about those intimate, tender moments, especially when he can feel your love radiating through each kiss and sending shivers through him. Each one leaves a mark on his heart, creating a tapestry of affection that strengthens his pure adoration for you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

No secret that he's great with kids! They prob gravitate to his silly personality and easy-to-climb frame, he's like a walking-talking jungle gym. It makes your heart swell seeing him sign tennis balls and photos for children at tournaments or when he's spending time with family, getting tackled and jumped by all the kids.

He’d be the type to show them how to ride a bike, to juggle or teach them some fun tennis tricks, maybe a little impromptu match in the backyard. Ben would be attentive and patient, showing them the ropes with a kind heart. I imagine with older kids, he'd approach them in the same way Bryan had with him; supportive and kind, never too pushing.

When Ben sees the joy in their eyes, it makes his day, and you can’t help but adore him even more watching him with kids, knowing he’d be an amazing dad someday.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Ben are a beautiful blend of coziness when you get to spend them together. He’s not much of a morning person, but he loves waking up next to you. He's the type to set his alarm a bit earlier than necessary to spend his first few moments with you. His first instinct is to pull you closer, kiss your hair a few times, bury his face in your neck and inhale that comforting scent that makes the morning feel a bit brighter. He’d probably mumble something sweet, still half-asleep, cautious not to wake you up.

He’d take time to sit with you in the mornings during breakfast, talking about the day ahead or sharing funny stories from the previous day. He's just so happy to spend his first moments talking to the love of his life, he'd probably have a stupid smile on his face, never breaking eye contact.

If he’s on tour or has a busy schedule, he’ll make sure to carve out that little slice of the morning with you, maybe slipping a note in your bag or sending you a video in your timezone to wish you a good morning to remind you of how much he loves you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Ben are all about winding down and enjoying each other’s company after a long day. He’d love to create a cozy atmosphere, dimming the lights, maybe lighting some candles or making popcorn for movie nights. You’d often find him on the couch with you, his arm draped around your shoulders as you watch a few episodes of your favourite shows, maybe even just watching TikToks together. He might tease you about your choices or how weird your FYP is, but he loves seeing your eyes light up as you share your favourites or laugh loud with your head thrown back.

On nights when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, he’d turn it into a stargazing adventure. If the weather’s nice, he’d grab a blanket, leading you outside to lay beneath the stars, pointing out constellations, and sharing silly stories about life on tour. He’d wrap you in his arms, resting his chin on your head, making you feel safe and cherished as you enjoy the tranquillity of the night.

If you’ve had a tough day, he’d be all about pampering you, running you a warm bath or preparing your favourite snacks, knowing that sometimes the little gestures mean the most. And when it’s time to sleep, he’d pull you close, his body instinctively finding yours as you drift off, feeling that warm sense of security and safety wrapped up in his embrace.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Ben takes his time when it comes to opening up, but he’s genuine about it. He's never faking his emotions or what's going on in his mind but some things would be kept away until he's ready and trusts you. I think he’s the kind of guy who enjoys those late-night conversations when the world feels quiet and safe, and that’s when you’d get to know the real him, the hopes he has, his fears, and what really drives him.

He’d probably start with lighter topics, like his favourite childhood memories or funny stories from the road, allowing you to ease into the more profound conversations naturally. As he sees your genuine interest in him, he’ll begin to reveal more, like his dreams for the future or moments that shaped him into who he is today. He’d appreciate your patience and understanding, wanting to feel secure in the connection before diving deeper into the heavier stuff. He'd want you to feel the same, ease him into the person you are today, with your fears, faults and all. Knowing you trusted him to share some of your troubles and past would make him feel incredibly warm, feeling your relationship grow tighter and closer. He'd never want you to go through anything like that when you're with him or feel those emotions again, so he'd be very conscious and make it a known effort.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Ben is generally laid-back and has a chill demeanour, especially since tennis made him that way to keep his cool, making it hard to rattle him. He’s the type to take a deep breath and laugh off minor annoyances, preferring to focus on the positives rather than letting small things get under his skin. He’d rather tease himself than get upset, often finding humour in the chaos, which makes him an excellent partner during stressful times.

However, if something really bothers him, he won’t shy away from addressing it. He believes in open communication and would prefer to have a calm conversation about what’s troubling him rather than letting it simmer inside. You’d find him sitting down with you, holding your hands and discussing feelings with sincerity. His patience extends to those he cares about, he understands that everyone has their off days and is more than willing to listen, offering support instead of anger.

Ben’s the type to remind you that it’s okay to feel frustrated or upset, and he’ll be there to help you work through it, showing that his patience isn’t just for himself but for you as well. He'd even take you to a rage room or find other outlets if you needed support.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I think Ben would have notes in his phone about you. If you mentioned something while he's on tour whether it's on call or text, it'd go straight into his notes. If you're giving him a shopping list while he's abroad (like, K-beauty products or Japanese stationary), you'd need to send photos and the full brand name and all, otherwise, the poor guy gets stressed and panic buys stuff.

If you asked him to run and get micellar water, he definitely bought all sorts of sparkling and still water in a panic. Or if you offhandedly mentioned that your period is coming up, he bought wayyyyy too many sanitary products because "how am I supposed to know what size you are?" - that's when you knew you had your work cut out for you, you have to be specific.

He would be on the plane, going through his notes, picking out what he'll be able to find, maybe books or bracelet charms alongside snacks you liked too. He'd take that role very seriously and it'd be so hard for him not to spoil the surprise and give you a haul of all the little things he bought for you; it'd get to a point that one of his bags would just be stuff for you, it was like Christmas when he came back.

You might find him surprising you with those details, like picking up your bagel and coffee order on a random day or planning a date around something you’ve casually mentioned wanting to try. It makes you feel seen and appreciated, knowing that he values your words enough to remember them. Like you might be doing errands together and then pull up to a place you wanted to try or craved and he'd shrug it off and be like "Oh, what? I just thought you'd want to try their new menu, just remembered you talking about it a few nights ago", but internally, he'd be giggling, fist bumping himself at surprising you again.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Ben’s favourite moment in your relationship is probably one that encapsulates all the love and joy you share together, something that solidifies you as a partner and his best friend. Maybe it was a spontaneous trip you both took, laughing the entire way, sharing silly snacks, and belting out songs in the car. Maybe the tyre was flat and you were both calm and making jokes about it, messing about while waiting for roadside assistance. Maybe it was playing doubles and having no strategy, just vibes and running all over the place (ahem, Arthur Fils and Ben, ahem). But whatever came your way, you both wouldn't find anger or frustration, you'd balance each other out and make a few jokes, and share a few kisses - you both knew everything was going to be alright.

He cherishes the quiet moments too, like those nights spent cuddled up, sharing your dreams and fears, realising how much you both mean to each other. It’s in those intimate exchanges that he finds solace and happiness, making every moment spent together feel significant.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

I think Ben’s protectiveness is rooted in genuine care and affection. He’s not overbearing or controlling, but he’s very aware of your comfort and safety, especially when you're together in public and with his fame. If you're walking through a crowd, his hand is always on your lower back, guiding you carefully. If someone’s acting a little too bold, he’ll step in closer, stand a bit taller, and make it crystal clear that you’re with him, and he’s looking out for you. He's got you covered and doesn't need to do too much to make himself known as your partner.

At the same time, Ben loves it when you show care for him too. Maybe it’s the little things, like checking in after a rough match or reminding him to rest after training, gently massaging him after training, caring about if he ate - all the small things to check-in. He’d appreciate it when you link your arm with his in casual moments or hold his hand in public when you look up at him with your sweet eyes and smile or gently plant a kiss. It’s that unspoken connection that makes him feel secure, knowing you’ve got his back as much as he has yours.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

I believe Ben’s the type who goes all-in. He might not always be extravagant, but everything he does is meaningful and well-thought-out, especially after it's been some time away.

For dates, whether it’s something simple like grabbing a pizza or something more special like a surprise picnic, he’ll plan it with you in mind, always tailoring things to your tastes. If it’s a special anniversary, expect him to remember all the little details, maybe even recreating your first date or trying to recreate a scene from a show or movie that you loved. He’s definitely the type to bring flowers, book reservations, and remember your favourite dessert or place to go.

He’s also great with gifts. He pays attention to the small things you mention, whether it’s that cozy sweater you’ve been eyeing or a quirky little item that made you smile. Sometimes, it is just something as small as having a sweet that you like in his pocket like it's "magic" (he forgot he put it there).

Everyday tasks don’t slip his mind; he’ll pitch in with chores, leave a small note, pack your bag for you or just help out in ways that show how much he cares.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I think Ben's biggest "ugly" trait is probably his occasional messiness, especially after practice or a match. He might leave his bag somewhere leave sweaty clothes lying around or forget to put his sneakers back where they belong. If he’s been travelling a lot, expect his suitcase to explode all over the bedroom before he finally unpacks, and even that would take you pleading with him to get working on that, which he will do with a pout.

He’s prob also guilty of being a bit too focused on his phone at times, like sitting there mouth agape and a protein bar or something in his hand that he forgot he was eating while he's scrolling through social media or watching match highlights when you just want his attention.

But the great thing about Ben is that if you call him out on it, he’ll listen and make an effort to fix it. He’s not one to get defensive about it; he knows his weaknesses and is willing to work on them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Ben is definitely aware of how he looks (he knows he's fine as fuck), but he’s not vain in an excessive way. He likes to look good and feel confident, especially in front of a camera or at an event, but he’s not obsessed. He’s got his routines, probably a favourite cologne, a specific hair product he swears by to make his curls look good, but it’s all pretty chill. He’ll make sure his outfit’s on point and his shoes are clean, but he’s not going to spend hours in front of the mirror. He just cares to look good with and for you, nothing else.

He’s comfortable in his own skin and loves it when you appreciate his style too, but at the end of the day, he’s more focused on feeling good than being perfectly groomed. If he knows you love the way he looks in a certain outfit, he’ll definitely wear it more often just to see that smile on your face.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Ben is a confident, self-assured guy, but when it comes to you, you’ve become such a key part of his life that he’d definitely feel something missing if you weren’t there. You ground him in a way no one else can, bringing out his softer, more relaxed side and keeping him grounded. After a long tour or stressful match, you're the one he turns to for comfort and calm. He loves having you to share his successes and challenges with, and it’s clear he sees you as his other half.

When you’re away from each other, he’d miss all the little things, your laugh, the way you poke fun at him, the way you cuddle into his side, the way you play with his hair and shower him with words of affirmation. Ben’s a big believer in partnership, and having you around makes him feel like he’s not just navigating life alone but with someone who’s always on his side. So yeah, without you, he’d feel incomplete, like something’s missing from his daily rhythm but it wouldn't be a crippling thing.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

So, Ben talked about how he had never been abroad before tennis, I like to think of him being an appreciative guy so I imagine him collecting memorabilia from his tours. Things like lanyards, tickets, wristbands, photos, and even quirky items he finds in hotels from different countries. He probably has a little keepsake box that he fills up with mementoes from the places he’s been, and he loves sharing these memories with you or telling you stories about those things.

When you’re together, he’ll pull out random souvenirs and tell you the stories behind them, maybe even jokingly offering to “trade” you one of his old match wristbands for one of your trinkets. If you offered to make him a scrapbook and document his silly stories, he'd probably hold that so, so close to his heart, maybe even well up a bit knowing you were gentle and careful in documenting it all.

He loves bringing something from you with him on his travels, whether it's your silly pink headband that you use when you're doing your skincare or a hair tie around his wrist. Whenever he gets the chance, he'll send you silly photos and texts wearing or holding those items, telling you that he misses you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Ben is generally easygoing, but there are a few things that would rub him the wrong way. He doesn’t like unnecessary drama negativity or toxicity, he’s all about keeping things light and fun, so constant complaining or bad vibes would get under his skin. He also wouldn’t appreciate dishonesty or being led on with games. He values trust and transparency in a relationship especially if he's serious, and if he felt like someone was being shady or playing with his emotions, he’d check out pretty quickly. He doesn't have the time to be doing all that while on tour.

I think he also wouldn’t be into someone who’s overly controlling or doesn’t give him his space. Ben enjoys his independence and time with friends, so he’d need a partner who respects that balance and doesn’t try to keep him on too tight a leash.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Deadass prob sleeps like a rock. Ben is the type of guy who falls asleep fast and stays asleep, once he’s out, he’s out. He loves curling up next to you in bed, and he’ll probably drape an arm over you in his sleep, unconsciously pulling you closer. He’s a deep sleeper, and if he’s had a tough day of training or a long match, he might snore lightly, maybe even sleeptalks a bit.

He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair while he’s falling asleep and murmur words of affirmation and love. It relaxes him instantly, and he’ll murmur little thank-yous, kiss your skin softly or give sighs of contentment until he drifts off completely. If he wakes up in the middle of the night, he’ll check on you, making sure you’re comfortable and pulling the blanket over you if it’s slipped off, making sure you're nice and tucked in. Ben might also wake up early, but he’ll stay in bed a little longer, just lying there next to you, content in the quiet moments of the morning.