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jeonginsleftcheek · 18 days ago

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Dolly VII

~ part 7 of the Dolly series

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, sci-fi

synopsis: you, being a tech-savvy person, decide to get one of the new sex dolls on the market. with your skills and brains you manage to unlock the doll's secret and make a perfect plan on how to discover the secrets of the doll's maker too.

wc: 8.2k

warnings: oral (f and m), somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampies

a/n: i've never been to an observatory so idk how things go there and i couldn't find a detailed description of the experience so i just winged it, don't come at me if you've been to one

~ divider by @bunnysrph

"Fuck yes!" you laughed, lifting your fist up in the air triumphantly. You were so early.

Following the latest technology advancements and even working on some of your own led you down into a deep dive and you had heard rumors here and there about something completely new and different coming out soon. And now they were finally here for the public to enjoy.

Sex dolls.

But no, they weren't regular dolls that were made of plastic. The site claimed that they were made out of newly discovered materials that made them feel human, made them able to heat up, get hard, cum. In your years of being a programmer and hacker you have never heard of such a thing.

You scrolled through the entire site, of course they were made by BIMT. They were known for their discoveries in robotics and artificial intelligence. But they were also shady. Their founder, Helena died mysteriously and any ex employee kept their mouth shut when asked about their job. You saw the interviews and read articles before. You saw the glint of fear in those people's eyes, like they were threatened to be silent with death.

You already tried looking into it before, you were always a curious cat and you always did your research, sometimes even illegally but hey, what has to be done...

BIMT hid their tracks very well, even their official site was impenetrable no matter how many times you tried hacking into it. There was no revealing documents, pictures or interviews anywhere, not even on the deep dark web. You couldn't even find anything about it after hacking into social media accounts of ex workers. It made you even more intrigued. You always loved a good challenge.

And the dolls being made by them was just the stroke of luck you needed. Excitedly, you scrolled through each dolly profile. It was so hard to decide, but one of the dolls caught your eye more than the others.

Jisung, the nerdy doll. You thought he was just like you, a smarty-pants, the person who knows the answer to almost anything, brain full of fun facts and finger ready to lift up and say 'actually!' before you start explaining to someone why their claims are wrong based on this and that.

Yes, he had to be yours.

Not even a week later, your package arrived and you were practically bouncing off of your walls and climbing up your ceiling. You ripped the paper off the box eagerly before opening it and gasping.

"Oh you are even more beautiful in person!" your hands instantly flew to the doll's body as you explored it. "Does feel human." you nodded to yourself and leaned in to inspect his face.

With eyes opened and frozen you had to admit, Jisung looked a bit creepy no matter how pretty he was made to be.

"Time to dissect." you wiggled your eyebrows and pulled Jisung up in a sitting position. "Perfect."

Your fingers brushed over the little usb opening, almost missing the paper that slipped down. You grabbed it and started reading.

Hello,

my name is Jisung and I am your nerdy doll.

I love music, singing, dancing, rapping, watching anime and reading comics. Maybe I have too many hobbies? But I am happy to share them with you!

Please take good care of me, sometimes I feel down and alone and will need your comfort and presence.

Hope you will love me as much as I love you.

"Versatile little guy, aren't you?" you smirked, playing with his hair a little. "I think you and I will get along perfectly."

You scooped your dolly up and brought him to your room, placing him down on your bed before going back to grab the manual. You skimmed over it, nodding every now and then in surprise. This really was some kind of never before seen technology. You wondered how BIMT managed to produce the dolls and what else they made that no one knew about.

Being a programmer, you knew stuff like this was the result of trial and error. You kept thinking about how they actually got to here and what they had to do to make something as advanced as the doll on your bed.

"Let's see what you got, pretty boy." you smirked as you stood in front of Jisung. You gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing maybe the most lean waist you've ever seen.

"Wow." you gasped. "Yeah, you're not real." you chuckled, placing your hand on his chest. Your fingers twitched against him, he felt real, like a real human being. And he was warming up under your touch.

Your hand slid down, touching his chest, his nipples that seemed to become more pebbled the more you ran your fingertips over them.

"Look at that." you giggled before sliding your hand down until you got to his jeans. You noticed a small piece of paper sticking from the pocket.

"What's this?" you pulled it out and opened it.

My baby!

I am so excited for our first date!

I might be a little shy at first though. Hopefully you will still enjoy our first night together.

"Oh, I'll enjoy." you smirked, seeing the bulge that was straining against his pants. You unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off of him. Your fingers wrapped around his clothed length and you palmed him over his boxers. He twitched in your hand and you gasped.

"I'll discover your secrets, Jisung. But first let's have some fun, shall we?" you smirked, thinking how the doll should be used for what it was essentially made for. Why not have a little fun with it before you actually hack into it?

You slid his boxers down and his length slapped against his stomach, red and dripping, ready for you.

"Wow." you gasped, he was big and shaped perfectly. You couldn't wait to try him out so you stripped out of your clothes, throwing them haphazardly anywhere they landed in your room. Jisung was propped against your pillow in a half-sitting position and you crawled on the bed, hovering over his chest as you chuckled.

Why did it seem like his eyes were sparkling? Like they were trained on your pussy? Like he was actually seeing you before him?

"You want this?" you smirked, your fingers sliding on your folds then back up as you spread them before placing one finger on your clit and playing with it. Your dolly blushed at your ministrations and you gasped.

"What the fuck?" you chuckled in disbelief as you leaned over his face and tried to take a better look at him, to see if he was breathing, blinking, moving, anything. But it seemed like his heart wasn't beating at all. It's probably just a feature the dollies have, you thought to yourself as you continued touching your wet folds and playing with your clit.

"You have pretty hands, little dolly." you smirked, grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand to your breast. "Mm." you moaned as you moved against it, his skin was smooth and warm and it felt so good against yours. Your other hand was still between your legs and you slowly pushed two fingers inside your pussy, moaning at the feeling while staring at Jisung's face. The look on the doll's face was so sweet, almost innocent and you couldn't help but think if he was a real man, you'd definitely fall for him, he seemed just your type.

After a few minutes of playing with yourself, you were starting to lose patience the more you stared at Jisung, he was so alluring. You slid down to hover over his cock before grabbing the base of it and pressing the tip on your wet folds.

"Fuck." you groaned, throwing your head back. He felt so real, so perfect and you slid down slowly, taking his length in until he bottomed out inside you and you sat on him, squirming around to adjust. He filled you up like no one else and your eyes rolled back as soon as you started fucking on him.

A string of curses left your lips while you bounced up and down on him, getting his heavy cock more wet with each movement as you kept squeezing around him. You braced your hands on his defined chest and fucked him harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot and making you groan loudly as your eyes watered from arousal.

Your thighs started burning, legs tingling as a sheen of sweat covered your body while you kept fucking Jisung harder, noticing his face was becoming even more red.

"You enjoying, dolly?" you smirked between moans and clenched around him, forgetting that with your doll's sensitivity he could cum just from that. And that is exactly what happened, without warning he twitched and exploded inside you, making you gasp and clench even harder around him. The wetness and warmth made your eyes roll back and you followed after him, cumming around his cock and riding your high as long as you could.

"Tsk. Naughty dolly." you chuckled, pinching his cheek. "Wow, your face is warm." you added, pressing your palm against his heated skin. You leaned down and kissed his lips, they were so soft and for some reason tasted like cherries. Your lips kept pressing into his, before moving onto his cute puffy cheeks and placing more sweet kisses there.

"Hey!" a giggle escaped your lips when you felt him getting hard inside you again. "I'd love to but my thighs hurt." you pouted before sliding off of him. "My jaw is fine though." you winked at the doll before sliding down and coming closer to his cock, wet with yours and his juices. With a shrug, you pressed your tongue against him and gave him one long lick from the base to the tip, tasting yourself and again, something like cherries mixed with it.

"What are you made of? Fruit?" you let out another giggle before leaning in again and wrapping your lips around his tip. You sucked lightly, moaning and enjoying the taste and feeling of him. Your hand wrapped around what you couldn't take in your mouth as you slid as far down as you could and started moving your head up and down on Jisung's cock. Your eyes fluttered shut and you got into a rhythm, moaning and swallowing around him because he tasted so good.

It didn't take long for your dolly to explode again, this time painting your mouth with his warm cum and you swallowed every last sweet drop of him. You leaned up and kissed him again before leaving the room to take a quick shower. You didn't bother to put anything else but a short robe on when you came back to clean up your dolly too.

"Now. Let's see what you are made of."

You lifted him and put him in your chair before taking the usb cable and connecting it into the back of his neck and then into your computer. After opening the terminal and typing out a few lines of code, you were in.

"Hah!" you laughed. BIMT might've shut their ex employees up and they made sure no one could find dirt about them or hack into any site they made but they probably never thought that someone would actually hack into one of the dolls.

"What kind of code is this?" you gasped a little as you looked at lines and lines of code that your dolly was made from. It was definitely some advanced programming language but still it was readable, and to someone who did this for life it wasn't hard to understand after taking some time to look at it and read it out.

You saw that it had some type of advanced AI implemented inside it, some kind of genetic algorithm carrying the unique DNA of your Jisung dolly. It wasn't like any other genetic algorithm you worked with before and it was clear to you that this technology was far ahead of its time.

"How the fuck?" you shook your head, scrolling through the lines of code, seeing that a lot of the features the doll had were 'turned off' before getting to a line where there was a loop holding the factory reset button.

Should you do it? Reset the doll and see what happens?

You turned towards Jisung and looked at his face, your eyes searching his glassy ones. You saw there were features of the doll talking, laughing, even something about his heart beating. You suspected that he was actually 'alive'. You felt like you were in some kind of science fiction movie as your finger hovered over the left mouse button.

"Fuck it." you said and clicked it.

For a few moments, nothing happened until you noticed all the lines with features changing rapidly before your eyes. You jumped a little and looked at Jisung again. He was still for a moment before his eyes watered and then his face became red as he fought for air. He blinked a few times and then took a deep, painful breath in, his eyes became wide and his hand grabbed at his chest.

It looked like your dolly was alive after all.

Jisung looked around before his eyes landed on you and his hand flew to the usb pressed into his skin. With fearful eyes he stared at you and gasped.

"W-who are you?" he asked, backing away in the chair as you stared at him with mouth agape.

"Um, y/n. I bought you?"

"I... I was sold?" Jisung's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why would Mother sell me?"

"Mother?"

"Why am I naked?!" he screamed suddenly, trying to cover himself up with his hands as his face became incredibly red.

"We just had sex? Or I fucked you. You're a sex doll? You don't remember anything?"

Jisung frowned again, pressing his lips together as his eyes moved left and right for a few moments before they widened.

"Yes, I remember now what happened." his cheeks were rosy again. "Can you please give me my clothes? I'm... embarrassed."

"Sure." you stood up to grab his boxers and Jisung saw a glimpse of your core as you moved around, quickly looking away as he started heating up.

"Here." you gave him his underwear and he managed to put them on while still sitting in the chair.

"Why am I hooked to your computer?" Jisung asked and you got closer to the screen and observed the code, seeing something you had never seen before in your life.

Under all the lines, new lines kept appearing as if the code was writing itself while Jisung spoke, thought or took in a breath. It was like a brain, doing all the things that would keep a human being alive and let them do all the things they do so easily.

"This is fascinating!" you kept gawking at the code.

"Please... I don't wanna be hooked to any more machines." Jisung whispered and you turned to look at him again.

"I'm sorry." you tilted your head before unhooking him from the cable and he winced, grabbing at his neck and you watched in real time as his skin grew over the opening.

"What the-" you kept chuckling in disbelief. But despite you being in shock, it was Jisung who stared at you like you were the weird one.

"You look confused. What's the last thing you remember, Jisung?" you asked and he bit on his lip, gulping as his eyes fixated on your cleavage.

"Hey, buddy!" you snapped your fingers with a chuckle. "Eyes up here." you pointed to your face and he sputtered a little.

"The last thing I remember? You-"

"No, before coming here." it was your turn to blush.

"Ugh. I remember my brothers and our Mother. She made us come to life. She loved us, she would never sell us." he quickly shook his head, getting upset. You reached out slowly and placed your hand over his and Jisung looked up at you with wide, shiny eyes.

"Do you know her name?"

"Mother? Isn't that her name?" he pouted a little, looking like a kid waiting to be praised for the right answer.

"Wait a sec." you said and googled Helena Bang, showing him a picture of her. "Is this mother?"

"Yes! Yes, that's her!" Jisung smiled and nodded.

"Jisung, I'm sorry but... but she is gone. She died a few years ago."

"W-what? What do you mean? That can't be true! She was there with us, teaching us everything and reading us books and, and-"

"Hey, hey, calm down. I didn't mean to upset you." you rolled you chair closer to Jisung's and took his hands in yours. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, sniffling as he tried to understand just what you were saying to him.

"Look, obviously something happened in between and someone wiped your memory." you tried soothing him, drawing circles with your thumbs into his skin. "But don't worry, you came to the right hands because I will help you remember everything and discover what is happening in BIMT." you nodded and Jisung exhaled.

"Okay. I trust you. You're really pretty." he said with rosy cheeks and you laughed.

"You trust me cause I'm pretty?"

"No, I trust you because... because I have a feeling I should. And you're also pretty." he looked down and you giggled, leaning in and kissing his cheek softly.

"You're pretty too." you whispered in his ear.

"T-thank you." he stuttered, playing with his fingers.

"Now tell me everything you remember. Don't leave any minor details out." you said and Jisung began talking.

"We looked different before, when we were first made. We spent a lot of time in these big tanks filled with some kind of liquid. They called them 'incubators' and they would take us out and hook us to some kind of machines. They did something to us, I couldn't see what but I could feel it. I think- I think they were adding skin and other parts...and it hurt. A lot. But after that we were transported to this big mansion and we lived there with Mother. She took care of us, she taught us everything and she read books to us and played games with us. We spent time in the garden of the house a lot. Chan, Changbin and I had a lot of fun in the house gym, but Changbin spent lots of time there. And there was a pool, I'd hang out there with Felix and Hyunjin. And Hyunjin also loved the garden a lot. Seungmin too! And the library, Seungmin would sit in the library a lot, reading all the books Mother had there! Jeongin spent a lot of time in the game room playing videogames with Seungmin and Felix. And Minho really loved cooking and taking care of the cats in the mansion. We had a wonderful time together. I remember we would grill in the backyard and I had a guitar, we all sang together. I- I don't know what happened after that." Jisung hugged himself. "All I remember is a feeling. A deep seated feeling of angst and fear. Something happened to us, we were separated. From each other and from Mother. We went to sleep. And then I woke up here."

"So, Helena did make all of you." you smirked, looking up the current CEO of the institute. "And this bastard decided to completely turn everything around and make money in such a dirty way, making himself look like a genius who made you." you shook your head in disbelief. "Do you remember him?"

Jisung shook his head with wide, innocent eyes.

"Don't worry, Jisung. I'll get to the bottom of this."

After a proper shower and meal, Jisung seemed to be more calm than earlier as he wandered around your apartment, brushing his fingers against your furniture and decorations.

"You don't have a garden? Or a library? A gym? A pool?" he looked at you expectantly and you let out a cackle, now dressed in your comfy pjs and ready to relax before sleep.

"That's something only rich people have. Here, I have a balcony. Come." you beckoned him with your hand and he followed. You opened the door to your balcony, taking a deep breath in, the fresh breeze of an early summer evening caressing your skin.

Jisung took in a deep breath too and cautiously placed his palms on the railing before looking down.

"Wow. It's really high up." he said and you stood next to him.

"Does it scare you?" you put your hand next to his.

"It's just a little... uncomfortable. But I like the plants you put here." Jisung smiled at the few flower and plant pots you had all around your balcony.

"Then don't look down, look up." you took his hand and pulled him to the little bench and table you had placed there. "You can see the stars from my balcony."

Jisung's eyes widened a little as he scanned the sky, a small smile twitching on his lips as you observed him.

"You seem fascinated." you said as he stayed silent.

"I've always loved the stars, felt like they held answers to any question. I begged Mother to take us to an observatory so we can look at the sky together. She always said it was too dangerous to leave the house and that it's not time yet. She said we had to wait for the right time to leave, to be independent."

"You still wanna do that?" you smiled and he looked at you, nodding quickly.

"I'll take you then."

Jisung gasped, his body jolting in excitment. "Really?!"

"Yes, I've never been to one either. I think it would be something fun to see." you said and he kept nodding the entire time, making you chuckle.

"Are you tired?" he asked when you yawned.

"Yes and I have lots to do tomorrow. I'm working on a big project for work and I also want to look more into your code." you said and Jisung shivered a little.

"You're gonna hook me up to your computer again?" he pouted.

"I'm afraid that's the only way to find out more." you chewed on your lip.

"Do you think my brothers are in danger?" he asked then, frowning in thought.

"They could be. But no one bought them yet."

"Can you?" he asked and you chuckled.

"What I had saved up I spent on you. I got nothing left. But I could call a friend. You said Chan was the first doll made, right?" you asked, standing up and Jisung nodded.

"Then I know what to do." you reached your hand to him. "But now, let's go to sleep."

Jisung took your hand and let you lead him back to your room.

"We are sleeping together?" he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes and embarrassment painted on his cheeks.

"Of course." you smirked a little and pulled him down on the bed with you.

With his cute face and pretty eyes, Jisung managed to steal a few kisses from you before he fell asleep in your arms.

Jisung woke up when it was still dark outside, the sky still full of stars albeit a little less shiny now as the sun was supposed to rise soon. He looked at your sleeping frame, reaching his hand to gently touch your cheek, his fingertips on your skin. He played with your hair before putting it behind your ear. He's never seen someone as beautiful as you and he never felt this sort of excitement, like butterflies and fire inside him for anyone else but you.

Jisung's face flushed when he realized he was aroused by your presence and warmth. He had no idea what to do, should he wake you up or just ignore it? He squirmed in place, accidentally grazing against your bare thigh. A moan left his lips and he couldn't help himself, pressing against you again and dragging his clothed length against your soft skin. His hands gripped at your hip and his eyes closed as he whimpered quietly. The movements and sounds made you snap out of your dreams and your eyes fluttered open.

"Jisung?" you whispered and he froze.

"I'm- I'm sorry Y/n. It's just-" you chuckled, shutting him up with a sleepy kiss as your hands traveled down.

"Take what you need." you smirked after getting rid of your shorts and underwear. He gasped a little as you grabbed his wrist and led his hand between your legs.

"You feel that? For you." you smirked, eyes closed as his fingers explored your wet folds. You pushed his boxers down slowly and pulled him in closer to you, your brain foggy and turned on after sleep. Jisung slotted his hips between yours and gripped your thighs, spreading your legs more before grabbing his cock and sinking it into you. Both of you moaned, hands grabbing desperately at each other.

"Y-you make me feel like I'm burning." he buried his face in the crook of your neck and a breathless chuckle escaped your lips. Jisung whined, gripping at you as he started dragging his cock against your walls slowly, fitting perfectly inside you.

"J-Jisung... Feels so good." you whimpered, arching up into him.

"Yeah, baby?" his lips pressed into your flushed cheek as he fucked you slowly and deeply.

"Yeah, perfect." you gasped, your hands roaming on his back, up and down his smooth skin, feeling the defined muscles.

"You're perfect too. So warm." Jisung whimpered, speeding up just a little as he lifted your shirt up, exposing your breasts to him. He bit on his lip and you moaned, arching into him and encouraging him to touch you so he placed his hands on your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples. Your legs wrapped around him as your hands kept roaming on his skin, his lips on your neck and chest, his body swaying into yours until you were brought to climax together.

"Wow." Jisung smiled, laying his cheek on your chest and looking up at you.

"It's much more fun when you're not just lying there." you joked, poking his cheek.

He pouted and frowned, swatting your hand away. "For me, it was fun to just watch you too."

"I'm sure it was." you giggled, wiggling out of his hold and getting up. "We got work to do."

Jisung whined but followed you to the bathroom. After a shower and breakfast you picked up your phone a called a friend. She lived a little out of town and was enthusiastic about technology in her own way. She was a little older than you and used to do research for BIMT while Helena was still alive but any time you asked her something about it, she'd shut you down, never quite giving you any straight answers. She was an intelligent woman but paranoid that people were listening in to her conversations so she moved away from everyone, changing her life into something more simpler, more close to nature.

You told her everything and heard the gasps she let out, the murmurs of disbelief.

"So, can you take Chan? I think we might have a chance of helping the dolls if you do. Since Jisung was 'sleeping' and supposed to just be used as a sex doll, then the other dolls might be struggling too. I don't think it's right. Maybe they're not completely human... but their heart is beating. They hurt, they feel. They think. They don't deserve to be mistreated." you talked as you paced around your kitchen, Jisung's head following your body as it moved left and right over and over again.

A deep exhale on the other side of the phone.

"Fine. I'll help them. I will take Chan."

Satisfied with the answer, you thanked your friend and hung up.

"Everything is going according to plan, Sungie." you smirked, grabbing his cheeks and smushing them, making his lips pop as he whined.

"You're adorable." you chuckled and kissed him as he blushed profusely, grabbing at your waist.

"Now I gotta actually work and after that I will look at your code." you said.

"What shall I do until then?" he asked and you chuckled.

"You can watch tv. Or read. I mean I'm sure you can find something interesting to do while I work."

Jisung nodded and you watched him make his way to the living room before you walked into your room and sat at your desk.

A few hours later, Jisung walked into your room and stared at you sheepishly, fiddling with his fingers.

"Yes?" you chuckled, turning to look at him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Are you?" you asked back and he nodded, his cheeks rosy. "I will order some food for us."

It didn't take long for your lunch to arrive and the two of you decided to take advantage of the nice weather and eat out on the balcony.

"Y/n?" Jisung said after some time, his cheeks puffy as he ate and you chuckled at his cuteness.

"Yes?"

"Can we take a walk?"

"Oh! Of course. We can do whatever we want." you nodded with a smile.

"Really? Mother never let us leave the property around her mansion. It was too dangerous. That's what she always said." he shivered a little.

"Nothing will hurt you here, I promise." you reached for his hand and he melted.

"I trust you."

"Good, then let's get some fresh air."

Jisung was almost like a child, pointing at everything, happy to be out and about, by your side as you held his hand and took him to your favorite ice cream place, down the familiar streets of the city and to your favorite park.

By the time you got home, night was falling and he was exhausted. You didn't have the heart to hook him up to a computer again, letting him rest in your bed as you sat at your desk and researched the code you copy-pasted from him.

You were getting closer to understanding it. Maybe even close enough to make some tweaks of your own, write a few more lines that would help you understand more so you could help the dolls free themselves.

"Challenge accepted."

A few weeks later, you were able to read the code, it was not that hard for you to get there since you've been doing this for years. You made progress with Jisung, he was willing to cooperate, helping saving his brothers was the only thing on his mind. He was smart too, knowing some things you didn't and that helped you understand some of the programming too.

Somehow he knew that the usb opening reveals itself with a press of his fingerprint over the spot. That's how you managed to plug him into your computer every few days, you didn't want him to feel like that was your only goal, to pick away at his mind. You wanted him to be happy, to you he was human and you had to admit you were starting to fall in love with him more and more each day.

"Jisung, look!" you called out to him one day as you scrolled on your phone while he read some manga, both of you having a chill afternoon.

"What?" he scooted closer to you, looking down at your phone.

"All the dolls have been sold out! I mean... your brothers." you grimaced and he sighed.

"That... was fast. But we know where Chan is?"

"We do. You want to go see him?" you asked and Jisung nodded.

"I will try to convince my friend to let us visit her. She is so paranoid that she never gives her address to anyone. I bet she had Chan picked up somewhere else so she doesn't give away her info. She barely gave me her phone number!" you threw your hands up in frustration.

"Please, try it! I really want to see him!" Jisung clung to you with a hopeful expression.

"Of course." you smiled, softening when you looked into his eyes.

You leaned in and kissed him gently as you wrapped your arms around him and his wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his heated body. You deepened the kiss, your tongue playing with his, a fire burning up inside your body.

As the kiss kept getting more heated, you sat up and pressed your hands on Jisung's chest but he grabbed your wrists gently and leaned back, looking at you lust filled eyes.

"Let me." he whispered and took the lead, pushing you against the couch and leaning in to kiss your neck. You let out a moan, your head falling back as you gripped at him. His hands roamed on your body slowly, mapping you out and squeezing a few times as he kissed and nipped at your skin.

"You're so beautiful." his lips trembled against your skin as he lowered them to your cleavage.

"Jisung." you moaned, hands tangling in his hair as he squeezed your hips. He whimpered at the sound of his name sounding so sinful when it spilled from your lips. He slid the straps of your top down, staring at your breast popping out with almost a fascinated look.

You arched into him and his hands gripped your thighs, lips attaching to your skin again, kissing the swell of your breast to your nipple before swiping his tongue over it, making you tremble and tug at his hair. Jisung kept repeating his actions, alternating between licking and sucking on both your nipples, his eyes closed as he enjoyed. You ran your hands over his shoulders and back, pressing your fingertips into his defined muscles.

His fingers inched closer to your core, brushing against the warmness over your shorts. Your breath got caught in your throat and he looked up at you before sliding down on his knees between your legs.

"Let me taste you, baby." he smirked a little, pulling you closer as he hooked his arms around your thighs and leaned in to press a kiss to your core.

"Fuck, Jisung!" you moaned, hips lifting up towards him as you hooked your fingers in your shorts. You started sliding them down with your underwear and Jisung helped, pulling them off of you completely before gripping your inner thighs and spreading your legs more.

He groaned and stuck his tongue out, licking a fat stripe over your folds to your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

"Ah!" you jolted, gripping his hair harshly and tugging on it, making him moan into you and suck at you harder. His tongue prodded at your entrance and you whimpered, pushing his head into you and Jisung spread your pussy with his tongue, tasting you, lapping at you. Your legs were trembling and closing around his head as you neared your climax, your fingers tugging at his hair. Jisung moaned into you, fucking you with his tongue faster, eating you out like he's been craving to taste your essence his entire life. Your thighs almost crushed his head when you came, his name leaving your lips in a loud moan as your body shook.

Jisung whined loudly too, licking at you until you pushed him away, feeling overstimulated.

"Fucking hell." you exhaled and looked down at him to see him completely disheveled, his hair messy, eyes hazy and lips glistening with your release.

"Please, it hurts." he whimpered.

"What hurts, baby?" you gasped a little, leaning over him to take a better look at him. He moaned desperately, palming the prominent bulge in his sweats, it was straining against the fabric, wanting to be freed and buried inside you.

"Come here, Sungie." you helped him up and then hooked your fingers in his pants, sliding them down with his underwear. His cock slapped against his stomach heavily, dripping only for you.

You reached towards him and he gripped your wrist gently.

"Don't." he shook his head. "If you touch me, I'll cum." he said, his cheeks becoming red in embarrassment as he shut his eyes tightly and attempted to calm down just a little. You waited, looking at him endearingly, it was adorable just how desperate he was for you.

He opened his eyes suddenly and pushed you down, making you gasp in surprise and delight as he spread your legs wide, his hands running up and down your thighs for a few moments. You whined and got rid of your top and Jisung got rid of his shirt, not wanting anything to be in between you. He hovered over you, grabbing his cock and running the tip on your wet folds.

You arched your body into his, your hands coming up to touch his shoulders and arms. Jisung's eyes fluttered as he slowly pushed in, filling you up to the brim. He pressed his body against yours as you embraced him, wrapping your legs around him. After savoring the moment, Jisung's hands gripped at your hips as he started moving inside you.

"Mm... Y/n, you feel so good. So perfect for me." he whimpered and you gripped at his upper back.

"You're perfect for me too, Sungie. Harder, please!" you whined, lifting up into him, trying to match his rhythm. Jisung brought his hips into yours harder as both of you gripped at each other, pressing closer and closer together like you wanted to melt into one person.

"I love you." Jisung moaned out into your ear as he clutched at your hips, enough to leave bruises. You gasped as he rutted into you desperately, the words that left his lips made you clench.

"I love you, Jisung!" you whimpered and he unravelled, exploding inside you and riding his high as he fucked his cum deeper into you, making you clench as you finished around him, your entire body burning up. There were tears in his eyes and you grabbed his face and kissed him sloppily, still trying to catch your breath and come back to your body. He pulled out of you and laid on top of you as you held each other, just enjoying the moment.

"You really love me?" Jisung looked up at you after some time. You couldn't help but giggle at his cute face.

"I love you so much." you hugged him tightly, it was more than just words, it was a promise.

"Hey there, friend! How's everything going with your dolly? Did you wake him up yet?" you asked, after calling your friend who ordered Chan dolly.

"Not yet. I'm scared to." your friend answered.

"Just do as I did. He'll wake up just like Jisung did. And speaking of Jisung, he really wants to see Chan."

"I- I don't know about that. What if you get followed here?" you recognized the panic in her voice. "I don't want them to find me."

"Who is 'them'?" you asked for the hundreth time, knowing she'd never answer.

"I can't say. They may be listening, may know Channie is here. I can't risk it anymore, I can't!"

"Please, just calm down! We need to help the dolls, and no one can do it but us, do you understand that? I know that you're scared but trust me, okay?" you pleaded with her.

A long exhale from the other side and rustling sounds as she moved around.

"Alright. But if something happens-"

"Nothing will happen. Well, nothing bad. I promise."

You sighed after hanging up, hoping she would just wake Chan up already so she could get information out of him too.

"So, any luck?" Jisung came into your room, a bowl of ice cream in his hands.

"Nope." you shook your head and he whined, digging into the ice cream with his spoon.

"What are we going to do now?" he asked and you rubbed his arm soothingly.

"Let it unfold. I believe she will come to her senses and do what I asked of her."

"You have lots of belief in people." Jisung noted.

"Not all people. Just ones I feel I can trust. Anyways, why are you not dressed?" you crossed your arms and looked at Jisung expectantly, with a teasing glint in your eyes.

"Dressed?"

"For the surprise I have for you." you pouted and he gasped, standing up immediately.

"That's today?! Fuck, I'll be ready in 10!"

You chuckled at him as you watched him running around clumsily and getting ready. You left him to it as you went to the bathroom to finish your makeup. Jisung walked in later, just as you were adding some last touches. His arms wrapped around you, his chin on your shoulder as his eyes found yours in the reflection of the mirror.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked and you smirked a little.

"I'm not saying." you teased and Jisung pouted.

"Okay but I won't stop bothering you about it." he poked your side and you wiggled out of his arms with a chuckle.

"Listen, we are going somewhere you've always wanted to go."

Jisung knew just what you were referring to and he decided to stop asking questions and instead he gave you a soft kiss of appreciation, excitement building up inside his body as you led him out of the apartment and to your car.

The observatory was a little out of town and the drive there was cozy, you were playing a chill summery playlist as Jisung pulled the window down and closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze, the fresh air and smells of nature around you. The night was so calm and quiet, instead of it being eerie, you felt excitement building up inside you as you neared the observatory. When you parked, you already noticed that without all the light pollution from the city, the stars were more luminous and visible.

"Wow! It's so pretty already." Jisung exclaimed when you got out of the car and you chuckled at his enthusiasm.

"It is." you looked around in wonder before walking up the path to the observatory, Jisung's hand finding yours as you entwined your fingers together. There were a few other people there and the little tour started with a short presentation and walk around the exhibition of planets and the history surrounding their discovery, along with stories and facts about other space phenomena. Jisung was gasping every now and then, practically vibrating with excitement next to you that he almost forgot how to walk a few times, tripping over his legs and blushing when you squeezed his hand and giggled at him.

You were excited too, waiting for the main course of the evening, looking through a real telescope and seeing all the planets up close, well as close as you could. Soon, you were lead to the telescopes and seeing the planets was nothing like you thought it would be. For some reason, the shapes and colors on the planets felt familiar after seeing so many high quality pictures that were taken of them. But, at the same time seeing the celestial bodies with a professional telescope made you realize that they are actually up there, that they have mass and actually exist, not just as pictures. It was a feeling you couldn't describe and Jisung was equally as if not even more mesmerized by the experience.

As the tour ended and you got back to your car Jisung couldn't stop babbling about everything you saw. You couldn't help the fond smile that spread on your face as you watched him so happy and animated.

It made your chest warm.

"Do you think someone else lives up there, with a telescope of their own watching Earth?" Jisung asked when the two of you laid in bed that night, embracing each other.

"Maybe they do. We'll never know, I guess." you said, running your fingers through his hair.

"Maybe they come visit us one day." Jisung smiled and looked up at you, his cheek pressed against your chest.

"I hope it'll be a peaceful visit." you said and Jisung agreed, his eyes fluttering shut as you soothed him with your touch.

Two weeks later, Jisung was still doodling planets the two of you looked at as you made breakfast when your phone started ringing. You grabbed it and saw it was an unknown number, contemplating if you should answer.

"Who is it?" Jisung looked up at you and you shrugged.

"I have no idea."

"Maybe it's your friend. Or Chan!" he perked up.

"Oh, you're right." you nodded and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Miss Y/n L/n?" a monotone voice sounded from the other line.

"Yes?"

"We understand you have bought Jisung, the nerdy doll. We regret to inform you that all the dolls have to be returned due to a malfunction. You will get a refund of your money, of course. Tomorrow we are coming to collect the doll." the voice spoke and you smirked at Jisung.

"Sure." you said calmly. "See you tomorrow."

The man bid goodbye and you put your phone down as Jisung looked at you expectantly.

"It's happening." you said and Jisung put his pencil down and nodded, understanding immediately.

"Time for me to write some code." you smirked and he exhaled and nodded again as he took your hand.

You had worked tirelessly on it for months, perfecting the code as you predicted that something like this would happen, you knew you had to have some type of guarantee that you can save Jisung and his brothers. After hooking him up into your computer, your fingers started gliding against the keyboard like they were dancing and Jisung watched you with tenderness in his eyes, affection and sadness washing over him. He knew you were doing this for him and his brothers and he knew he'd have to leave you, at least for a little while and he couldn't bear the thought of being away from you.

But still, he was thankful.

You typed out the code and started talking. "With this I'll be able to track you and see what's happening. And they won't be able to pull the plug and make you sleep. You'll have to act as if they did it, I don't know if it will sell when they see your code and see that it has been tampered with. But I am counting that it will buy us enough time to infiltrate the building. Enough to cause a commotion. You just have to act like you're cooperating with them and not raise any suspicions. Understood?" you looked at him seriously.

"I understand." Jisung nodded firmly.

"Good. Just trust me, okay?"

And he did, Jisung trusted you with his life.

That night, both of you cried while making love, knowing it might be your last, at least for a little while but you didn't wanna be apart even for a second. Jisung sang you to sleep like he always did and you knew just how much you were going to miss his comforting voice.

Come morning, the doorbell rang some time after breakfast and you squeezed Jisung's hand as you saw he was getting anxious.

"It's going to be okay. Just act how we practiced." you assured him, grabbing his face and kissing him lovingly. Jisung gripped at your arms, desperately holding onto you and wishing you had at least one more day together.

"Soon, you'll be free, you and your brothers and we will go to the observatory again. And wherever else we want, I promise." you talked, your forehead pressed against his.

"I love you, Y/n." he whispered.

"I love you too." you pecked his lips once more before both of you made your way to the door.

There were four men in suits looking at you with serious expressions on their faces.

"Give us the doll." one of them said and Jisung nervously stepped closer to them.

"I'm here." he said and the men just looked at him quietly for a moment before nodding.

"Get in the car." another one said and Jisung looked back at you. You exhaled and winked at him, encouraging him to do as they said.

You watched his back as he left, his shoulders tense as he tried to keep himself together. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you had to compose yourself for this plan to work.

"Thank you for your cooperation, miss." the man said before all of them turned and left.

You quickly ran to your room and grabbed your phone, calling your friend.

"Did they come get him?" she asked and you could hear a commotion behind her.

"Yes. I did as we planned. Is Chan ready?" you asked and she let out a chuckle.

"Oh, he is ready. You should get here as soon as possible." she said.

"Fuck yes!" you laughed, everything was going just how you needed it to for your plan to work.

"Uhm, but... Y/n?" your friend hesitated and you paused your excited pacing.

"Yes?"

"We have company." she said and you gasped.

"What company?"

"Someone who can help us a lot."

You smirked and nodded to yourself, it was time to bring BIMT down.

@moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @hwangjoanna @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @minniesverse @skzdreamer13 @0325ale @j-ji-jia @shannthewriter @mhluvie @my-neurodivergent-world @hyyunjinnn @spookybuttsstuff-blog @pancake-freckle @felixsbrowniesarmystayengene @minhooofr @hyunjincanraptoo @yaorzu-blog @ari-hwanggg @linofthelace @hyunjinlosthisamericano @the2000girlani @hhjlvr @beabidoobee @psychicdreamers @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy

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plumipal · 6 months ago

Text

The Tattoo (part three)

After scarabias overblot, and seeing what Ace and Deuce were willing to do for you, you were so touched that you decided to get them tattooed on your body as a small heart and a spade. After that chaos ensues-

If you wanna read the whole prolouge, then it's here

Oh poor Idia, where do we even start for him?... poor guy is absolutely shattered as soon as he saw those two tattoos on you through the cameras. He felt his entire reason to live just shatter. He feels his entire world collapsing in on itself. He completely just, breaks down, sobbing to himself on the floor trying to rationalise how the tattoos were not real, to try to keep his sanity in tact.

The days after that disastrous breakdown, he has been stuck in bed, too depressed to frankly do anything but to sulk. He had not eaten, not drank enough, and his personal hygiene is downright awful.

Once Ortho has convinced him to get up because crowley demanded him to actually attend his classes or it's byebye NRC for Idia, his pity for himself has turned into rage. Whenever he sees the dumb duo he can't help but to want to do anything against them, he sure would LOVE to doxx them...

But after some reconciderence from Ortho (statistics show he would be one of the top suspects for it and therefore make the prefect hate him even more (he believes)) he instead chose to take care of himself, putting actual effort in how he looks as to win you over with that. He sure hope it works, please...

Don't think ortho is just hyping up his brother, cuz he is sure helping on the sidelines. Digging up info the students don't want anyone to know abour sure is easy when you have unlimited internet access (and some illegal ways to obtain the info)

That's the easy way of getting students away from you, but getting you trapped up with them is almost just as easy. He starts calling you his siblings as well, subtly telling you how you and idia would be the greatest siblings ever to him, even backing up and glorifying hos brother in your eyes, anything it takes to get you to chose idia.... you will all be a happy family....

Sebek, for once in his life, is stunned to silence. He cant quite grapple the thoughts and feelings swirling within him is making him feel quite sick, making him quiet for the rest of the day..

Once classes has ended, he bolts over to his dorm only to dramatically lock himself in his dorm room and let out the worst crying session ever. He is sobbing,

The whole ordeal and emotions results in him having the need to constantly watch over you, as a way to show that he too can protect you, he can be there for you, just like ace and Deuce, but better! Please, he needed you, he needs you to need him too, please...

Silver don't quite know what to think about this. He cant blame you, the heroic stunts of your friends sure are nice, but why with something so permanent? He could do what they did and so much more for you, give him an opportunity and he will show you.

After "the talk" the four of them had, he has had a hard time sleeping for the first time in his life. He feels exhausted yet can't close his eyes, pictures of you happily being with ace and Deuce clouding his poor exhausted brain. He will take this on the only way he knows, a duel for your love and your hand.

You're not dumb either, you see how tired he had been and the lack of sleep he has been getting, and feeling bad for him you let him sleep on tou if that would help him. He takes this opportunity and sure is greedy with it, wanting more and more sleep time with you. It's one way to claim you, and at the moment it's enough for him, but don't think he won't demand more in the soon future..

Lilia feels heartbroken. First that the prefect, his beloved, has shown this love that he would love to have for someone else (especially two people), it breaks his heart. What breaks his heart even more is how he needs to go against his own sons for his beloved too. But he will do whatever it takes to secure you for himself.

When he meets you after hearing about the tattoo, he tries act as normal as possible, not wanting to scare you away with his desperation. Despite that though, he will also try to advance, because he is NOT losing to all these youngsters, he's old enough to know exactly how to treat someone right. Let him treat your right, please, he begs of you....

Malleus feels like there's a storm inside him, getting worse by every second he thinks about that forsaken tattoo you have. He activately tries to think less about it, not wanting the whole school to be stuck in a storm for weeks, especially when you're situated in that poor awful old and decrepid building. He will try to smite ace and Deuce if he has the choise to though-

After the anger dies down, that's when the sadness flows in. The fact that he was not your favorite, that he was not worth his own tattoo, frankly brings him to tears. He has never been denied something in his life, especially something that he wants so badly. It's a foreign feeling, and a horrible one at that.

He is an attention hungry dragon, give him what he wants and he will give you the world without question. Just, please, give him the love and affection he both crave and deserves...

Chat, im tired. Let me sleep- FINALLY THIS SERIES IS FINISHED! or so I thought- o will focus on other comics/ideas before I come back for the endings tho, because I kinda wanna do other stuff and not just the tattoo shenanigans yknow :) one again huge thanks to @artdolliewishes for lots of support and help lmao

I hope yall enjoyed this shitshow of a series atleast, was lots of fun to create after all

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst art #yandere twisted wonderland art #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia x reader #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere sebek x reader #yandere silver #yandere silver x reader #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere lilia x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #the tattoo series

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sweetestberryofthebunch · 2 months ago

Text

Give You My Heart (Detective!Agnes x f!Reader)

For Agnes it‘s always been all work, no life. Balance isn’t even a word in her vocabulary. Growing frustrated with your fiancée, you show up at the precinct and remind her what she’s missing out on.

Content/Warnings: Fluff and Smut, Age Gap Relationship, Brief mention of Somnophilia, Oral, Oral fixation, Semi Public Sex, Degradation, Face Slapping, Hair pulling, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Hard Dom!Agnes, Slight Brat!Reader, mention of safe wording, spit play and choking again, mentions of boot licking

Tag List for Part II: @crazycatladycaceta @live-laugh-love-lupone @jazzyxqzl you guys are the reason I wanted to write more of this, I hope you enjoy!

Read the warnings for this one guys, please! I just want everyone to be aware of what‘s coming and no unpleasant surprises. Love ya!

If I ever write about these two’s actual wedding, I’ll treat them to a fully planned out wedding night scene and not just these little sprinkles of kink I throw at them right now. Which reminds me - do we think Agnes is a Flogger or a Paddle gal?

Spring had sprung earlier than usual this year. By the end of January, the snow had retreated, and now, just a few weeks later, the first fresh green started blooming out of the frost. Mornings were crisp and clear, afternoons sunny but cold. Like every year, you felt the clamping grip of winter fall off your shoulders. Your skin was clearer, your body felt lighter, less stale. Colour seeped back into the world, a much needed change for both you and especially your partner.

You knew for sure that winter was over when Agnes began to forego her pajamas, opting to sleep in nothing but her boxers, if at all, like she preferred.

She slipped into bed one night, as per usual home hours after you, way past any reasonable hour.

At first you gasped when you felt her bare arms drape around you from behind in the earliest hours of the morning. But then you felt her hands start to wander, and you let out a little sigh, leaning into her touch, her bare skin quickly warming up under the covers.

New Year's Eve had put an especially nasty case upon her, something about Gang activity and illegal explosives, and the entire precinct had been working overtime since.

Agnes arrived at the Police Station before sunrise and left way past sundown, with a new stack of files to read before eventually finally passing out. The lunchboxes you packed her returned half empty at best, and when Agnes returned late at night from work, she barely had the energy, let alone the mood to talk.

In fact, the most you‘d seen of your fiancée this year so far was her half empty coffee mug in the morning, left abandoned on the kitchen table when she had to rush to work; And her silhouette in the dark when she slipped into bed beside you way past midnight. Most days, you were lucky to even get a greeting.

So, when she slipped under the covers, bare skin against yours, and you were still awake, you felt your body ache for her immediately. It wasn’t fair that work occupied her this much anyway.

„Agnes“, you whispered as her fingertips traced over your ribs. You could feel her grunt something unintelligible into your neck, lips teasing at the fine baby hairs there. Pushing your butt back into her, a low moan hurried past your lips. It had been a while … since early December, to be exact.

„Relax baby“, Agnes husked into your ear, voice drowsy, „Just let me…“

Her hand stilled on your lower tummy, just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

At first, you stayed completely still beneath her touch, even holding your breath in anticipation. Agnes didn’t tease you often, preferring to fuck you stupid fast and hard, but sometimes she did like to test your patience. Or rather, her own.

Minutes passed without her hand moving an inch. Her breath against your neck was slow, and even. This was not like her at all.

And then, you heard it. A low, quiet little snore, right into your neck.

You let out a sigh, head sinking a little deeper into the pillow. She had fallen asleep on you, right in the middle of this.

When you turned around, careful not to wake her, you were met with her pale face. She hadn’t even opened her ponytail before slipping into bed. Even in her sleep, her brow was creased in worry, her resting face at this point. Your fingers traced over her forehead, brushing a few loose strands out of her face. The touch was featherlight so as to not wake her.

“Oh Agnes.“ you shook your head, arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her limp body close, cradling her head to your chest.

Gently, you leaned forward to press a kiss right onto the crown of her head. The crease on her forehead evened out a little, so you kissed her two more times, for good measure.

Tomorrow, you were going to make her relax, and if you had to drag her home by her hair, then so be it.

The day started beautifully. Clear, blue sky, crisp fresh air. Despite how close to her you‘d fallen asleep, when you stirred, the space beside you was already empty, the cold morning light illuminating the crumpled up blankets.

You went about your morning routine as per usual, however, as you stepped into the kitchen, drying your freshly washed hair with a towel, you found Agnes‘ coffee mug already cleaned up and drying on the dishrag.

She also had emptied both the last jar of peanut butter and the homemade strawberry jam Mrs Davis had gifted you for Christmas. You rolled your eyes. For someone so grumpy every time she had to see the neighbours, Agnes certainly enjoyed their gifts.

After work, you usually ran your errands and went home to feed the bunny. However, today you had fed Scratchy early, and stayed downtown. The walk to the police station wasn’t far, so as the sun went down, you trailed through the little downtown area, past shops that were slowly closing up for the day. You only stopped once at the little flower shop just at the corner to townsquare, where you spotted a beautiful, full bouquet of white and purple tulips, the first ones of the season.

When the two of you had started dating, you‘d made a point of always buying Agnes flowers, noticing the way she’d smile to herself despite trying to play it cool. A year later, when you‘d moved into her place, you had found that every bouquet she‘d ever received from you had been carefully dried, now lining up the wall of her home office. You had cried, and Agnes had made a point of fucking you on her desk that night, forcing you to look up at the wall as she‘d whispered her favourite memory about each date you‘d had into your ear.

As the police station came into view, you swallowed, gripping the fresh tulips tighter. Time to remind her what she was missing out on.

The parking lot was empty except for Agnes' car. Even the chief's VW was gone already, leaving Agnes to lock up by herself once again. Usually, you‘d be annoyed by that, but today, that was exactly what you‘d anticipated.

Your steps echoed through the precinct. The overhead lights were off, leaving the place tainted in early nights grey and the very last orange glow of sundown. There was only one light on, of course, Agnes desk lamp in her personal cubicle, hidden away only by a shabby glass front.

Your fiancée was crouched over her desk, propped up on her elbow as her other hand held a pen, tracing over whatever notes she had of the day. She didn’t look up as you approached, not even as her door creaked open, and you slipped inside.

There was a plastic pitcher on top of a metal cabinet right beside you, and you put the flowers inside without hesitation.

Agnes would notice in a week or so that her pitcher was in use as a makeshift vase, and you’d scold her about her water intake then.

Right now, you just stepped further into her office, stepping around her desk as you cleared your throat.

“You know”, at the sound of your voice, Agnes' head shot up in surprise.

„I‘m starting to think about getting into the illegal trade of explosives on the black market“, you drawled, standing right in front of her chair, hip leaning against her crappy desk. Pointedly, you raised the hand adorned with your engagement ring, fingertips drumming against your cheek, „Since that’s the only way to see my Partner these days.“

Blue eyes watch you closely, before Agnes leaned back in her chair, letting out a deep grown. „Don’t joke about that.“

God, she looked spent. „This case has been kicking my ass.“

You pushed yourself off the desk, kicking her chair away from the surface, turning her seat until she was facing you head on.

Tired eyes watched you, and the way Agnes‘ glance dragged down your body, following each every single movement. Without hesitation, you grabbed the armrests of her chair. She didn’t stop you, now caged in her seat as you leaned over her, your arms on either side of her.

You tilted your head to the side, putting on our strict no-discussion voice.

„Not as bad as I‘m gonna kick your ass if you don’t come home with me right now.“

To your surprise, Agnes' eyes darkened, pupils wide. She shifted around in her seat, throat bobbing as she swallowed. Oh.

„Baby“, Agnes' voice was hoarse and you had to hold back a self satisfied little grin.

Your lips were only a few inches away from hers, and you could smell her breath. She definitely did not have the baby carrots and hummus you’d packed her for lunch. There were hinds of chocolate and cheap black coffee. When your lips met hers, it was barely a kiss. Instead, your tongue darted out immediately, pushing past her chapped lips as you licked inside her mouth. Definitely chocolate.

You pulled back, your head tilted to the side. If you looked down, you could see right down her grey flannel into her cleavage, where only the soft cotton of her white undershirt kept her skin from yours. One of your hands let go of the chair, instead pulling down her collar. Your head dove down, and you pressed a single, lingering kiss to her chest, right between her breasts. Her skin was soft and pliant beneath your lips, and you sucked it in, giggling into her chest as your teeth grazed over her.

Agnes' breath hitched loudly and you pulled away, letting her skin go with a wet pop. There was a clear red mark of your teeth around the little bruise you’d sucked into her skin. As you admired your handiwork, you noticed that she was shivering. Oh, she was starving.

„What?“, you cooed, leaning in a little closer. „Not here? Not at work?“

You chuckled as your back straightened, your breath ghosting over her face. You were enjoying this way too much.

„But Darling”, you craned your neck, whispering into her ear. “Where else am I supposed to have my way with you? It’s not like you’re anywhere fucking else lately.“

Agnes' eyes darkened. There she was, that dominating, darker side of her. The animal inside of her, the one that she had starved for far too long.

Her hand shot up, fingers grasping at your neck like a vice. You tried to gasp, but your airways were already clamped tight. When she spoke, Agnes' voice was dangerously low.

„That’s what this is? I work overtime for two weeks and you get so desperate you show up at my job to fuck?“ Her hand tightened around your throat.

You gave her a sheepish little smirk, glancing over to the shelf by her door. Your pulse was racing in her grip. When your lips parted slightly, you desperately sucked in a few shallow breaths. „I also brought you flowers.“

For a moment, Agnes just stared at you. Your eyes watching her face so closely, open wide and round. Your pupils wide and your chest heaving. The wild glimmer in your stare, not nervous about what might come next, but excited. She may be the one in control, but you had always been the instigator of most of your scenes. And Agnes loved every second of it. The way your breathing was completely at her mercy. Her eyes went dark, hard as she exposed her teeth in a single, low growl. She was met with your smile, deliriously grinning back at her as you swallowed, throat rolling against her grip.

Agnes lips crashed against yours. Your lips met hers head on, open mouthed and you kissed her back with ferocity. Tongues intertwined, Agnes pushed yours down with dominating precision, licking over your teeth. You moaned into her mouth, deeply and guttural, and her hand left your neck.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you pulled away just enough to take a look at her. Agnes' face was flushed, chest rising and falling. You dove back in, lips connecting to her jaw, trailing down her neck, right between her collarbones.

“Baby”, Agnes huffed, head rolling back against the chair. Her hands found your hair, digging in to keep you close.

“Keep going”, it was supposed to be an order, but with the way you felt her tremble under your lips, the way her legs parted so you could crouch down in front of her, you knew she was begging for you.

Your fingers found the ragged fabric of her shirt. With one strong pull, you tore it open, sending a small shower of buttons flying and then pouring out the ground. Agnes' mouth opened in protest, but you were faster.

The moment you had access to her, you leaned down, tongue darting out to lick a firm stroke over her right nipple. The sensitive bud pebbled against the thin fabric of her undershirt. Instead of scolding you, Agnes' head rolled back with a long moan. Your hands slid down her front, over her ribs, her stomach. All the way towards her jeans, tracing all her most sensitive spots as you went. At the same time, your mouth wandered to her other nipple, kissing it through the thin fabric, sucking it into your mouth.

Agnes flinched, fingers scratching over your scalp. “Lower.”

You sat back on your knees, settling down on the ground between her legs. Under different circumstances, you would have peeled her bare slowly, layer by layer. You would have crouched down on the floor, kissed the tip of her boots all the way up to her ankles, taken them off carefully before teasing your way up her leg.

But you were on the dirty floor of her office, and these weren’t shoes you wanted anywhere near your mouth, and if you had really bad luck, Agnes’ chief could walk in any moment. You had to be quick.

So, as you made quick work of the fly of her jeans, you indulged in a few kisses on her lower stomach, on the thin line of skin where her white shirt had ridden up. Then, your fingers hooked underneath both waistbands, her jeans and her boxers.

One glance up, and you were met with a low chuckle. Agnes was watching your every move, her eyes black with desire, jaw tense.

“Can you..?”, you asked, giving her pants a little tug. Her hips rose up, and you took the opportunity to pull both pants down abruptly in one go. The fabric gathered around her ankles, and you shuffled forward on your knees, until you were comfortably settled between her knees.

One of Agnes' hands rested firmly on the top of your head, urging you closer. Even from where you sat, you could smell sweat, musk and need. The scent of sex. The scent of your future wife.

There was no time to waste, no build up, no teasing. You pressed one kiss to the hair curling above her center, inhaling the scent there. The hand on your head flattened, pulling you closer.

“No Games baby.”

You batted your eyes, glancing up at her without pulling away. Her face was stern, brows raised, eyes fluttered shut. One more kiss above her core, and then you finally leaned down to where she was aching for you.

Your nose brushed through her folds, opening her up like a flower. You could feel her shudder above you, and it made you smile instantly. Barely touched her, and she was already getting worked up. Lips still curled upwards, you craned your neck to press a teasing kiss against her soaked core, thick, liquid desire spilling out of her, coating your lips.

„Baby“, Agnes groaned, and you felt her hips buck against your face impatiently, „Don’t be a fucking tease.“

Fingers curled into your hair, pushing your pursed lips further into her open cunt. You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at her urgency. The vibrations of the sound made her let out a strangled gasp.

You darted the tip of your tongue out, dragging over her most exposed, sensitive parts, slowly teasing its way right up her center to her clit. The little bundle of nerves was already swollen, exposed to you, pulsating under your tongue‘s quick, gentle flicks.

One glance up was enough to see her free hand gripping the arm rest, short nails digging into black hard plastic. Her other hand scratched at your scalp, keeping you exactly where she wanted you.

„Just like that baby“, she growled, blue eyes piercing into yours. „You just couldn’t wait to get home, huh?“

Her tone grew harsh, that rough, teasing lilt she always used when she talked down to you. A shudder ran up your spine, and your lips closed around her swollen clit, sucking the bud in. Agnes gasped, hand in your hair curling into a fist.

„You know Chief could walk in any moment, he tends to stop by to send me home after hours.”

Much to her dismay, your mouth retreated. You sat back on your heels, staring up at her in complete silence. Your face was drenched in her fluids, a single string of spit still connected your lips to her cunt, before it quickly sank into the chair’s fabric cushion, leaving a dark spot. The way Agnes' eyes darkened at the sight didn’t go by you unnoticed.

“Maybe”, you glared up at her in accusation, “You should actually listen to what your boss tells you some time.” You licked your lips, tasting her. “And I would also like to have you home more.”

The slap came so sudden, you had no time to brace yourself for the impact. Before you knew it, the back of her hand made contact with your cheek, leaving a sharp sting behind. You let out a whimper, one hand grasping at the irritated skin. Wide, watery eyes stared up at her.

While you knew you were pushing limits by talking back, you hadn’t expected her to get this worked up this fast.

For a moment, you saw Agnes' hard front drop. The grip on your hair softened just the smallest bit and her eyes glanced from your lips to your cheek before settling on your eyes.

“Need to tap out?” There was a slight shake in her voice, palm cupping the back of your head. You shook your head immediately, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m golden”, you whispered, rubbing your cheek against her bare thigh, feeling her relax into the contact.

The tip of your nose was tickled by the dark hairs curling in the crook of her thigh and core, and you gave her a dazzling smile. You felt the goosebumps rise on her milky thigh, smiling before pressing a single, gentle kiss to the sensitive skin.

Agnes sucked in a sharp breath, hand gently running through your hair one more time before her eyes darkened again, that firm, cold front slipping back into place.

“Good”, she drawled, hand wrapping around your throat. Her fingers curled, nails digging into your skin, leaving crescent moon markings in their place.

She pulled you up by your neck, meeting you halfway as she leaned down in her seat. Her breath was hot against your face.

When she leaned forward, it wasn’t to kiss you. Instead, her tongue darted out, licking a single, long stripe from your chin, over your slightly parted lips up to the tip of your nose, gathering the mix of sweat and her own desire from you. With the slight pressure on your throat, you didn’t dare try to kiss her, just held still as she tasted herself from you, watching the way her gaze darkened as it fixed on your face, nothing but desire written all over it. The desire to please her, taste her. Desire for more.

Agnes let go of your throat, pushing you back down to the floor. “Get back to it”, she ordered, jaw tight as she licked her lips. “You already wasted enough of my time.”

This time, you didn’t allow yourself to tease her anymore.

Instead, when your lips met her absolutely drenched, pulsating core, you poured every ounce of desperation into it. The deep, overwhelming love for the woman above you that ran through your veins like the very blood keeping you alive, the need to please her the way you lost yourself whenever she took control, and it felt like flying above the clouds.

Your lips closed around her clit and you could feel her racing pulse on your tongue. Sucking her drenched skin into your mouth, your tongue flicked right over it , fast, hard, unrelenting.

One of her thighs swung over your shoulder, and you felt the heel of her steel toed boots dig into your spine. The sudden pain pulled a moan from your lips, and you felt Agnes shudder at the sensation.

“J… just like that“, her groan was strangled, voice pitching higher in that special way it only did when she lost control of herself.

Her heel pressed into your back harder, and you moaned again, this time longer, deeper, pressing your nose and chin into her cunt.

Agnes yelped, and the rare sound was music to your ears. Her hips stuttered up into your face, the hand in your hair curling into a fist as she pushed your face closer.

It was hard to breathe in this position, but that just meant you wrapped your arm around the leg on your shoulder, pulling her even closer.

Agnes' right hand that wasn’t buried in your hair found yours resting on her thigh, and your fingers intertwined. A small smile formed on your lips, just for a second, and you pressed one more kiss right to her clit.

The strokes of your tongue became longer, tongue flat as you ran through her folds from her entrance to her clit. Wet, quenching sounds filled the dim office, mixing with the low grunts coming from the woman above you, in tune with the pace of your tongue.

„Baby“, Agnes breathed, and her hand in your hair tugged you towards her aching clit again, „Baby I‘m so close. Please!“

That was all you needed to hear. Your nose buried in the hairs curling just above her cunt and your neck strained as you leaned in further. It was the type of position your chiropractor probably lost his mind over, but that didn’t matter when you had Agnes O‘Connor begging for her release above you.

Your lips wrapped around her clit, sucking the bundle of nerves in. Her legs twitched, the heel on your back kicking up before pushing back into you even harder. If it wasn’t for the laws of physics, you’d be melting into her by this point. You certainly tried to, science be damned.

Your tongue flicked over her most sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid succession, face buried in her cunt from your nose to the tip of your chin. You could feel a single drop of thick liquid desire run down your neck, and the sensation made you moan into her.

Agnes sucked in a sharp breath, her short nails scratching over your scalp. „Yes!“, she pressed out through gritted teeth, a strangled and broken moan somewhere above you.

You couldn’t breathe like this, there was a growing strain in your neck and you‘d certainly wake up with bruises on your back and your knees tomorrow. But none of that mattered right now. Not when Agnes was growing frantic, when her body was twitching and spasming at the hot, wet pleasure of your mouth. Nails dug into your skin, scratching the surface open. Another small mark you‘d carry around for days to come. Your tongue pushed against her further, and you let out one final strangled whimper, the sound muffled by her cunt on your face.

Still, it did the job. Agnes let out a sharp hiss, every muscle in her body tensing up, pulling you in tighter, impossibly closer. Your tongue worked against her relentlessly, pushing her over the edge of her orgasm and right through it. You didn’t stop despite starting to flinch from lack of air, not until Agnes had ridden out the wave that had washed over her, until her heel slid off your shoulder, legs shaking as her body sank into the washed out cushion of her chair, finally relaxing.

And even then, you only let up slowly, tongue working relentlessly as you licked up the mess between her legs, kissing over her bush, her exposed clit, her drenched folds. Only when you were satisfied with your work did you pull away. Your face was absolutely ruined, slick from your nose to your chin, on your cheeks and jaw. The single drop that had dripped down your neck had caught the collar of your shirt, leaving a wet stain.

You truly were lucky there was no one at the precinct anymore, because there was no denying in what had just happened.

When you finally pulled away enough to look up at her again, there was an exhausted but satisfied smile on your face. You took a deep breath, lungs practically screaming for air that finally, you granted them again.

„You really needed that“, you commented, watching Agnes chest rise and fall in deep, slow breaths.

„Yeah.“ Agnes' head rolled back against the rest of her chair, her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. „I really needed that.“

Your face nuzzled against her thigh, leaning into her hot skin. There was a thin layer of sweat coating her, but you didn't mind, pressing a few lazy kisses along her leg as you caught your breath. Her hand stayed lazily draped over your head, fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair as she just let the exhaustion finally wash over her. It was only now that she truly let herself take a moment just to breathe.

After a short moment to recollect herself, Agnes finally began to close up the Station. Comfortable silence settled between you two as she did, one of her arms loosely wrapped around your waist, pulling you along as she checked if all doors were locked and lights turned off. She’d pulled her pants back up but hadn’t bothered with the belt that now hung open around her hips, and there were no buttons left to close her shirt again, so she just wore it open, white undershirt on display; which included the wet stains your mouth had left over her nipples.

You wiped your mouth with your sleeve, grinning into the fabric. „We have to stop fucking in unconventional places.“

„Why?“ Agnes' nose nuzzled into your neck. Her hand on your back slipped downwards into the pocket of your jeans. „It seems like you’re having fun.“

The dramatic pout you gave her made her laugh.

“I didn’t put down money for a king sized bed to fall asleep alone every night.“

To be fair, it was hard to make an argument for your bed right now. Still, your point stood firm and the look you gave her made it clear that you wouldn’t let her argue.

Agnes shook her head with a chuckle.

„Okay“, she held her free hand up in surrender. Her other arm pulled you closer into her side. „Next time we‘ll make use of our bed again.“

Agnes fumbled with her keys, thumb running over the rough fabric of your jeans as she locked up the precinct behind you.

You waited for her to finish, before hooking two fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at you.

„Which means“, you said, and your tone left no room for discussions, „You‘ll have to come home before 8 pm. I am okay with eating dinner separately, but from now on I want you home at a reasonable time for bed.“

Agnes' brows rose up. „That’s what this entire thing was about?“

Your fingers wandered to rest against her cheekbone, turning her face to look directly at you. Her skin was rough beneath your touch. You wanted to comment how she wasn’t using the moisturiser you’d gotten her, but when Agnes leaned into your touch, there was no bite left in you. Not when she looked at you like that.

„You just want me home for bed?“

Your thumb ran over her bottom lip, traces of your own chapstick sticking to your finger.

„If I had it my way you‘d be home for dinner every night“, your voice was soft, but you stared at her intently. „We do the dishes together and catch the tail end of whatever game is on. If you manage not to talk about work all evening, we fuck on the couch. We go to bed because you’re tired, not because you’re so spent you might pass out.“

Her eyes darkened, and you felt her fingers dig into the flesh of your ass a little tighter. Agnes surged forward, but your hand on her cheek quickly held her back, mere inches from your lips. When she huffed in frustration you couldn’t help but grin.

„On weekends, which you will take off, we look at wedding venues. We‘re already behind on planning. I will show you every combination of flowers imaginable and you will give me your honest opinion on all of them. Also,“ you raised your chin, „You‘ll ask Agent Vidal where she gets her suits tailored. I love you, but I‘m not marrying you in a flannel.“

„Baby“, Agnes whined, a sound you rarely got to hear from her. You grinned, feeling her breath on your face.

„Promise“, you whispered, forehead resting against hers, „Promise me you‘ll take care of yourself better. And then we can fuck however and whereever you want.“

This time, when she leaned in, you didn’t stop her. Agnes' kiss was urgent, feverish. But when your eyes met hers, all you saw was love, her undying adoration for you. Your palm cupped her face.

„I promise“, she whispered so close to you, you felt the words more than you heard them. „I’m sorry about the last few weeks. You know how I get.“

You kissed her lips again. And then each corner of her mouth. And,before she could stop you, the tip of her nose. „I do. That’s why I came today.“

Her hand clasped firmly around yours as you finally made your way across the abandoned parking lot.

„You know, I always thought the interrogation room would be hot.“

You rolled your eyes. Of course she would think that. „Absolutely not, there’s a giant window!“

„Exactly. And handcuffs attached to the table.“

You felt the blood rush to your head. „Agnes!“

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #berry writes things #agnes o'connor #agnes of westview #Agnes x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x female reader #Agnes O’Connor x reader #agatha all along #wandavision

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caelivir · 2 months ago

Note

for your event, can you add fwb!atsumu and sweet boy by malcolm todd to the aux please !!

thank uuuuuu

now playing: sweet boy by malcom todd

first tsumu req of the event hehe. this song was lowk hard to figure out i cannot lie ‘cause it’s lowk angsty but i took one of the verses and tried to weave something cute from it. i hope u enjoy 🤗.

content. miya atsumu x fem!reader, fwb (he’s lowk in love tho), hint of jealousy, insecurity, communication, little suggestive | wc. 880+

three whole days.

miya atsumu has had this gut feeling that something’s wrong for three days, and it has to do with you. you’re not missing or anything terrifying like that. you posted a selfie on your instagram story just a day ago.

you guys can go without contact for a few weeks at a time, but this silent is different. it nags at him like spidey-senses telling him something’s not the way it should be.

that’s why he’s here, outside your apartment, even though his flight landed just two hours ago. he forced his manager to take care of his luggage and got the first taxi he could find to take him straight to you.

when you swing open your door, you blink, staring at him perplexed before you nearly shut it in his face. atsumu is barely able to wedge his foot before it completely shuts.

“oh come on.” atsumu huffs as he overpowers the strength you’re putting into trying to shut the door. he allows himself into your home when you give up.

you scowl, an expression he loves seeing you make when it’s not directed at him. “what are you doing here?”

“what? can’t see my favorite girl, now?” atsumu winks, trying to play things off as if his nerves are knotting into a tight coil in his gut. it results from a scoff out of your mouth as you shut the door.

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “sure, miya.”

that makes him stop dead in his tracks. atsumu whips his head towards you. the surprise is etched across his face, expressed through his raised eyebrows and dropped jaw. “miya?”

sure, atsumu’s annoyed you before, and to that you’ve called him a jerk. a dickhead, but not once has he ever been called miya. he doesn’t give a shit if others call him that. however, it’s different when it comes to you. a lot of things are. being called miya by you is wrong, illegal. it goes against every law of nature. atsumu can be anything to you, anything but miya.

he must’ve fucked up. severely.

he stalks closer, which in turn forces you to take steps back. this shuffle continues until your back presses into the back of the door. his face is dangerously close to yours, and he can tell it makes you nervous. it’s not obvious, but he sees it. your eyes waver every so slightly.

“back up.”

“not until ya tell me what i did.”

“who says you did anything?” you narrow your eyes, challenging him. always so stubborn.

“‘cause yer callin’ me miya. ya never call me that.” atsumu shoots back. that shuts you straight down. your eyes wander, looking at anything but him. “tell me what’s wrong.”

you scrunch your nose, feeling guilty. “sorry, tsumu. it’s- it’s stupid.” you mutter.

atsumu hates how dejected you look. he hates the frown on your pretty features. he hooks his index finger under your chin, forcing you to bring your eye up to his face. “hey. nothin’ ya say to me is stupid.”

“it’ll fuck everything up.” you whisper, genuine fear coating your voice.

“tell me anyway.” he assures you, lightly stroking your chin with his thumb. the silence overtakes. he waits, waits until you’re ready.

“i saw the pictures.” you admit quietly. “and the article.”

the ones from paris, atsumu realizes. so that’s what this is about. he gets it now.

“i just-” you pause, pursing your lips, weighing your next words. “i know we’re not together. we’re not anything really. i know. but i- seeing those pictures, reading that article… i hated it.

“but again, what right do i have? i mean you’ve got everything ahead of you, y’know? we don’t even see each other often. you’re all over the world. you’re bound to get all this attention, especially from girls that look like her. you deserve that. so i- i was just thinking that maybe-”

“no.” atsumu shuts that idea down before you can even get it out. he knows. he knows what you’re trying to do, and he won’t have it. he won’t even dare to entertain it.

“just listen to me.”

“not gonna.” he reaffirms with a hint of tease.

“(y/n), i don’t care about ‘em. i don’t care which model tries to throw herself at my feet. i like what we have. i’m not throwin’ that away for anyone. it’s you. it’ll only be you, ‘kay?”

however, you still don’t look convinced. he sees it in the way your frown dips slightly deeper. atsumu doesn’t like when people doubt him, but doubt is fuel. it tells him that there’s more he can do. that means there’s more he can do for you.

atsumu brings his face closer to yours, pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek, another one to the tip of your nose, one on your jaw, before crawling up to peck the corner of your lips. he drops his hand from your face, navigating them to your waist where he slips them under your baggy shirt to feel the heat of your skin.

atsumu presses his forehead to yours, his lips hovering over yours. “i can prove it to ya. let me prove it to ya. let me show how much ya mean to me.”

#♪ ݂۫ kory’s aux event ♪ ݂۫#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #⭑ — fics ⭑.ᐟ♡#♡ — hq #♡ — tsumu

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foreverisntenough · 13 days ago

Text

‘Aperture’

Summary: A professional footballer with a playboy reputation finds his world reframed when he meets a talented photographer who captures the light and depth he’s never seen in himself. As their friendship develops, he finds himself illuminated by her presence—a stark contrast to the shallow spotlight he’s used to, but her guarded heart keeps her from fully trusting his intentions. Their friendship develops, like film in a darkroom, shifting into something far more intimate. But when their connection begins to blur the lines between friendship and something more, he realizes she’s the light he’s been chasing without knowing it and fights to prove he’s ready for something real. Yet, their love hangs in the balance—will the film of their story overexpose and fade, or will it develop into something vivid and timeless. Sometimes, love is about adjusting the focus, letting in the right light, and trusting the process.

Chapter Index:

Fashion Index: For all Y/N's looks! No more bad links!

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of drugs, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!]

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Please read: Little note from me about him and one more about our community In summary: This is a swan song fic. The fic was never really about "him" as much as it was a fictional story and character I got to create and share with you all. I hope you still love reading it as much as I still love writing it. xx

Chapter 17- 'Hotel Dreams | 'Aperture'

word count - 13.8k

[Softly - Clairo]

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, fingers buried deep in the sleeves of your jumper, your breath visible in the cool London air. The buzz of the crowd was still echoing somewhere behind the stadium walls, but here, near the players' exit, it felt quieter. Still. Except for your heart—it hadn’t stopped racing since the final whistle blew. You’d sat through ninety-three minutes of tension, barely able to enjoy the match because your brain wouldn’t stop spinning—about the call, the photo you’d drunkenly sent last week, the way his voice sounded when you finalized these plans. And here you were, in an oversized Liverpool hoodie, his, and jeans, your jacket [ref index] draped over your forearm, trying to pretend like you belonged here.

“You look familiar, I know you?” The low voice startled you—warm, teasing, unmistakably him. You turned just in time to feel two familiar fingers pinch your waist from behind, his body close enough to feel the lingering adrenaline radiating off him. You jolted slightly, then turned entirely, already smiling before you saw his face completely. “Thought I told you to be in red?” Trent smirked.

“Thought I told you I’m a Hammers supporter.” You simpered. You really weren't. “But for you… Made a little exception so… ehhemm.” You raised your brow, lifting your red purse into the air for him to see. He chuckled with a smile so devastatingly beautiful it should be illegal.

“For me,” he grinned, appreciative before reaching out to tug at the hoodie’s sleeve, his eyes crinkling as he looked down at you, cheeks a little flushed from the game, still catching his breath. “Thank you for putting the rivalry aside then, I appreciate the red. Look beautiful. Jumper looks good on you too.” He cooed, still pulling gently at the excess fabric of his sweatshirt on you. You felt the warmth rise in your cheeks, smitten—no, completely in love with him.

“Congrats on the win.” You purred.

“Thank you, thank you.” He leaned back slightly, stretching his arms with a satisfied groan. “Could hear the away fans singing all the way through. Hard not to come out with three points with that behind ya. Place was loud. Was good, no?” He babbled a bit, nerves slowly creeping in.

“Yeah, was good. You looked good, T.” You meant it in more ways than one. Trent’s brows lifted slightly, a cocky little grin teasing his lips, but his eyes flickered over your face, a touch of something softer behind them.

“Yeah? You get nervous in the final minutes?” He smirked knowing you well enough to know you had been. The game had come down to those final minutes, but Liverpool were able to see the match out and come away with those three points he seemed to believe were inevitable.

“A bit.” You giggled, not even trying to lie.

“Gotta put a little faith in me, ya know.” He squeezed your arm before letting go to scratch at the back of his neck. He glanced down, suddenly shy at the larger implication of his words.

“I’m trying.” You admitted to more than just supporting him during the match.

“It’s good to see you, beautiful. Thank you for coming,” he said softly, earnestly. You nodded, heart stammering.

“Yeah, really good to see you, T. Little relieved you showed up to meet me.” Your voice carried a smile, but your eyes gave you away. There was a flicker behind them—quiet, but clear. A softness that hinted at something still healing. The kind of hurt you never meant to name but that lingered in the corners of your ribs anyway. The hope you’d let yourself hold. A subtle hint that this was hard for you. The faith he wanted you to have in him was hard. LA hurt and everything before that compiled and simmered beneath the surface. Even the sting from Trent not showing for the Burberry dinner months ago still seemed to linger more than you’d care to admit. It was something you tried to let go of, move past, but not really. Rather, you held onto it. You kept it in your arsenal like a weapon against yourself, a warning, to not let him get too close again. But beyond protection, the ache stayed. The quiet disappointment that had folded itself into your chest like paper. Tonight felt like unfolding it again—delicate, careful. A chance for something different.

He exhaled, understanding, the breath curling like mist in the crisp night air, and reached for you again without hesitation—his fingers catching the hem of your jumper again like it tethered you to him. He tugged you close, and just like that, the tension in your shoulders eased. He smelled like the cedar wood only Byredo could bottle, and skin-warmed Xerjoff Erba Pura, something wholly him. Like victory. Like love. Like home.

“You mad?” he laughed, low and golden. Crazy you’d think he wouldn’t want to see you, hadn’t been dreaming of seeing you again. It was the kind of laugh that could disarm an army, and it worked just as easily on you. You smiled up at him, helpless to resist it. “You think I wasn’t gonna come find you? Been thinkin’ about you the whole match.” He smirked cheekily. Devastatingly.

“So full of it.” You rolled your eyes, but the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you.

“Nah, nah. Absolute sort. Two rows down.” He paused, squinting one eye in thought. “Think three seats in, left corner of the stadium. Second half, I could catch ya. Knew right where you were at.” His voice dropped into something softer, the words curling against your skin like a secret. Your heart skipped a beat a little because you were in fact, right there. God, he was good at this. His hand found your hip, thumb slipping beneath the jumper—his jumper—and pressing against the skin there like he needed to remind himself you were real. “Got an assist, you know,” he added, cocky but boyish.

“I know, I saw.” Your voice was quieter now, thick with affection. “Played well,” you murmured, stepping impossibly closer. Your fingers brushed the front of his Nike tech. A nonchalant touch that felt anything but.

“Good. Had a pretty girl in the crowd I had to impress.” He leaned in, the words for you alone, swallowed by the hum of London’s night around you. Neon lights flickered over wet pavement, and the hum of departing fans dar in the distance bled into the stillness you’d both carved out here, just off to the side. Just the two of you. You swallowed, arms wrapping around yourself, retreating, like a shield even as he moved instinctively into your space. Always closing the distance. Always knowing how to reach you. Not letting you retreat even if you wanted to.

“Look a little cold,” he murmured.

“I’m fine.” But your voice betrayed you, and when the wind nipped at your cheeks, you giggled. “Maybe a little cold.” He watched as you started to put on your coat, the sleeves tugged over your hands like a makeshift shield against the air. He knew you too well. Read you like a favorite book, underlined in every chapter.

“Thought so,” he chuckled, pulling his own hood over his head. Behind you, the exits pulsed with movement—staff and players and flashes of press, the underbelly of the match spilling into the night. “You cold the whole match?” He asked. Genuinely concerned, like he cared… because he did.

“It’s a warm jumper.” You grinned, adjusting the jumper under your coat. But he knew that. It was his afterall.

“I know it is.” He softly chuckled. tugged gently at the fabric again, using it as an excuse to pull you closer—like he needed one. An ebb and flow of hesitation and certainty between you two.

“My jacket’s warm too though,” you said, the words soft, laced with something playful now. Your hand brushed his forearm, then slid up the length of his arm before squeezing his bicep, drawn to him. He felt it in his spine before you let go again.

“Is it?” His voice was lower now, something boyish behind the smirk playing on his lips. But his heart was thudding. Your touch did that.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, ducking your head like you were shy. Like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.

“Well then you didn’t need to wear my jumper, did you?” His eyes sparkled now, flickering to your mouth, then your eyes. “Should’ve just worn my kit then if that jacket’s so warm.” You blushed.

“Should’ve sent me one.” You quipped back. Laughing, soft and teasing. He paused longer than he realized. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before. Idiot. Why didn’t he do that? Why didn’t he think of that! God, he wanted that. Meanwhile, you were waiting for him in reality, panicking. Was that too assumptious? Should you have not said that? Finally he returned to the moment, noticing you were pulling back again, shrinking slightly. Like you regretted it. Like you thought you’d said too much. But his heart was already running with it—his name on your back, the idea of it tugging something primal in him. Fuck, he loved you.

“I should’ve,” he said, eyes soft, voice a bit unsteady. Because he meant it. The space between you thickened. The kind of pause that felt fragile. Lit like a fuse. Then, without a word, he reached for you again. Gently. Took your wrist in his hand and drew your arm away from where you’d folded it across your chest. His thumb grazed the inside of your wrist, your pulse fluttering beneath his touch. He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t have to. The city moved around you—traffic lights blinking red in the distance, voices echoing down the pavement—but here, in this little pocket of time, it felt like the world had quieted. Just long enough for you to be held. Just long enough for you to feel safe in the closeness again. And maybe it wasn’t perfect. Maybe it was still fragile. But it was real. And he was here. And you were still you and him. And maybe, tonight, that’d be enough.

—

The night air kissed your cheeks, cool and tender, brushing past as if it, too, were aware of the space between you and Trent. You walked close, footsteps slow against the damp concrete, North East London dying down around you—headlights smearing through mist, the low hum of voices bleeding from pubs, the occasional echo of a black cab rolling by. You’d decided to leave the match together, to walk, no where, maybe the tube, just somewhere with him, but you could feel the pressure behind the decision, lingering even in dwindling crowds. You leaned in, shoulder brushing his, your breath warm as you rose onto your toes just enough to whisper.

“Someone could see you…” voice soft, teasing, like a secret folded between your lips. Your hand reached for the curve of his bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze beneath his tracksuit. His body was warm beneath the fabric, all quiet strength and comfort. Trent’s lips curled, not into his usual smirk, but something softer—something that belonged only to you.

“I’m not that famous,” he murmured a tease, low and content, the kind of answer that settled somewhere behind your ribs. Maybe in a way it was a silent agreement to let go of the things that were said in LA… but did you want that? He looked like every version of safe you’d ever known—hood pulled up, joggers slung low on his hips, his Louis Vuitton backpack shifting slightly hanging over one shoulder, as he adjusted his arm to fall around you. His touch was unhurried, a careful kind of claiming. You let yourself lean into him a little more, like gravity was always pulling you toward him anyway. “You still cold?” he asked gently, his breath clouding just slightly in the air.

“Not now,” you smiled, letting your head fall briefly against his shoulder. He looked down at you like you were something to memorize.

“How about hungry?” He asked another question.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed. “Are you?” He gave a small nod, eyes ahead but anchored to you.

“‘Course. You pick somewhere though. Anything.” He purred trying to play it cool. Trying to act as if leaving the stadium, even after the crowds had died down, wasn't remotely a bit of a risk, or that his heart wasn’t hammering in his chest, fighting to keep the words ‘I love you’ from spilling out again. But you, none the wiser, considered his late night dining offer for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you like silk, easy and golden.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely louder than the breeze. “But only if you promise to act impressed by my taste.” You teased. He tilted his head toward you, amused.

“Always am.” You caught his eye, and that tiny pause—half a breath, half a thought—was everything. You smiled without meaning to, and so did he. At the next crosswalk, the two of you slowed again. The city swelled and quieted, the red glow of the pedestrian sign blinking steady. Without thinking, his arm tugged you just a little closer, and he kissed the top of your head—soft, reverent, like it was instinct. You let your eyes close briefly. You didn’t have to pretend. Not around him. Not anymore. The light turned green. You crossed the street together, hands not quite touching, hearts already tangled.

—

It should’ve been a debate, deciding where to eat—this was London, after all—but neither of you really tried. There were too many options and not enough care. The only thing either of you wanted was time. Proximity. Something quiet. You tilted your head, side-eyeing him. You’d left the crowds outside London Stadium and ended up fifty minute back into the city somewhere between Mayfair and Belgravia

“So are you hungry-hungry or just pretending to be nice?” You asked softly. “Must be knackered too.” You pouted a little at him feeling guilty he wasn’t in bed already after such a long match and instead was milling about with you late into the evening.

“I’m a little tired, baby. I’d eat whatever.” Trent smiled, slow and lopsided, the kind that tugged at the corners of his mouth like it wasn’t quite ready to bloom but couldn’t help itself. The kind that made your chest flutter. The kind that was mockingly beautiful.

“That’s not helpful,” your voice playful as your hand tugged lightly at the sleeve of his jumper. “You tired of me or just tired?” You teased, your fingers curling into his arm muscle like they belonged. Like you hadn’t spent the last few weeks reminding yourself they shouldn’t.

“Bit of both.” He looked at you then with a lazy smirk, eyes heavy with that post-match glow—sated, but simmering– molten and low from ninety minutes, from the day, from you. Your lips parted, a playful gasp, full of mock betrayal. He laughed—the real kind, the kind that cracked open his chest and came from somewhere warm. It loosened something in you too. “I’m kidding.” he let out a cheeky boy-ish laugh you wished you could bottle. You shook your head disapprovingly but you loved every second of his teasing. “Fine with anything, really.” He cooed, reaching for your waist, tugging you a bit closer to him. You pretended to mull it over, your brows furrowed in feigned concentration as you two turned onto a quieter street. The noise behind you melted into the hush of affluence—soft headlights, polished pavement, shop windows half-lit.

It felt imminent like you both knew what you wanted. Like the moment before rain. You could feel it rising, the thing neither of you wanted to name yet. LA was still there, tucked under your ribs. His voice drunk and breathless saying I love you like it had accidentally fallen out of his mouth. The way you froze, unsure if it was real or ruin. The aftermath: the silence, the phone call, the ache. His stupid, devastating voice at 2am saying things that burned like truth. Now, here you were. Still caught in his gravity.

Moments ago you thought maybe you were finally moving past LA. Was it wise to open the conversation up again? No, not wise, but maybe it was something wishful. You were scared to open it up again. Because you knew it would hurt. Because it was no longer about flirtation or sex or deflection. It was about choosing each other, even when it scared the hell out of you. So you played innocent. You offered a suggestion without saying it outright. A taste of memory without the weight of explanation; what you wanted to eat, just not where. Although, you’d only eaten it once with him before… alone in a hotel room. Would he pick up on it? You’d hope.

– It was that night. The 1 hotel. Your bare legs tangled under thin sheets in Mayfair, his breath hot against your shoulder when he silently told you he wasn’t used to this—you. That was before LA, the fight. Before the moment he said you wouldn’t get it, like fame made him something you’d never understand, that you were on the outside of his life looking in. He hadn’t meant to hurt you. But it did. Before the moment he added more conflicting emotions when it was followed by a drunken confession of love. Now, his silence felt like acknowledgement. A subtle apology. Not the kind with words, but the kind with a long exhale and softened eyes. –

“Chips and champagne?” you said casually, eyes ahead, voice even, biting back a grin, bashful, terrified he’d reject you. Hoping if he did you’d be able to claim naivety. But you felt it the second the words drifted in the air. The shift in him. He didn’t say anything for a beat. Just looked at you. He laughed under his breath, already picturing a night ahead of you two, one he’d dreamed of.

“Yeah, but we need proper attire for that.” he countered, leaning in, taking the bait. Trent was alluding to the same night you were. And by proper attire, he meant bathrobes. And you knew that. You both did. You watched something flicker in his eyes—maybe longing, maybe lust. You’d take either. You’d take anything as long as it came from him. “Gotta throw on Entourage too,” he smirked.

“Hmmm. Is that what you’re craving after 90 minutes on the pitch? Vincent Chase and bubbles?” you teased, knowing exactly what you were doing, but saying it like a dare, like an invitation wrapped in irony.

“Yeah, him and you.” He smirked and your heart faltered. “But hey. You told me you liked it last time.” He raised a brow feigning seriousness but it didn’t last long. His pink perfect lips began to curl. “Don’t knock it, you.” He side eyed you.

“I’m not! I’m not!” you giggled, giddy and gone, the kind of lightness you only ever felt with him. Like gravity bent just a little differently when he was close. He smiled, toothy, dimples deepening, completely enthralled by you, the way you looked, the way you sounded. His lips twitched like he was trying not to show how deeply he wanted you. How desperately he needed this not to just be a memory. His eyes whispered it, even if his mouth didn’t. ‘Please don’t knock it. Because I need you alone in a hotel room now. I need you with me again’ Because I need you, period.

“Heard it’s the perfect combo,” you cooed, repeating the words he’d said that night in London ages ago. The one where you were wrapped in terry robes, Dom Perignon sweating in a silver bucket, chips laced with truffle salt between you, and nothing separating your skin but the thinnest layer of restraint. You bumped your shoulder against his as you walked, still smiling. The rhythm between you was effortless now— Jokes folded into shared breath, comfort laced with flirtation, history pressed between your palms like something sacred. You didn’t even realize you’d stopped walking until you felt his hand skim your waist, a quiet tether, warm and sure, redirecting you like you were his to guide.

“Come on then,” Trent murmured, his voice low and velvet, his lips brushing the crown of your head with a tenderness that nearly broke you in two. “Scousers can know London,” he whispered cheekily, almost like a secret. “I can play this too. Bring you into one of my favorites this time, hmm?” He purred, pulling you gently into his orbit. Your heart stuttered. Your mouth parted. The stars tilted. You looked up—eyes wide, pupils blown, skin prickling like the night was a second skin—and he nodded toward down the block, toward the glowing entrance of the Four Seasons at Park Lane. Suddenly, it all felt like a dream you’d had before. The kind you wake from aching, unsure if it was memory or madness. Your eyes softened. But there was fear too. Not of him, never of him, but of yourself. Of what you might say. Of what you might mean. Because you could feel the words clawing at your throat. I love you. Like an ache. Like a blessing. Like a betrayal waiting to happen. And truthfully, Trent felt the same. He was scared he’d say it again—carelessly, instinctively, the way it had spilled out of him in LA when he was too drunk to censor his truth. He was scared you wouldn’t say it back. That your silence would feel like a slammed door all over again. But he couldn’t stop this. Not when you looked at him like that. Not when his fingers itched for your skin. Not when your laughter made him feel like maybe he was still worthy of softness. This was an oncoming storm he had no interest in dodging. Butterflies erupted in your stomach. Wild and fluttering. You just weren’t sure if it was anticipation or danger—if they were a sign to run or to stay.

But you didn’t protest. You let him guide you through the revolving door, his hand firm and warm at your back, the other still slung in his jacket pocket like it was nothing. But everything was something. The lobby gleamed under soft golden light. Crystal chandeliers. Polished marble. Music faint, like a lullaby for the rich. It was all too elegant for two people laughing about Entourage and truffle crisps, but that only made it better. It made you feel like a secret tucked into satin. Underdressed. Understated. But completely right. There was a bellman. A nod. An elevator. The quietest ding. The softest hum. Neither of you spoke, but the silence was thick with unspoken everything. Your shoulders brushed. His fingers found yours again, this time lacing. Holding. He glanced at you once, then again. You looked straight ahead, smiling like you weren’t breaking inside. Because the truth was— You were already there. You had been for a long time. And maybe tonight, you’d finally let yourself say it. Or maybe you’d just show it the only way you both knew how— with your bodies. With your presence. With the fragile, fearful way you reached for each other like you were both learning how to be chosen. And in the quiet gold of that lift, you weren’t just guests at a hotel. You were something else entirely. You were a feeling neither of you could name. But it was love. And you both knew it. Even if it broke you to admit it.

—

By the time you reached the suite, you were tangled in a mess of giggles, your body curled forward as Trent’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back with a laugh that made the hallway feel warmer than it was. He was grinning behind you, chin tucked over your shoulder like he couldn’t bear to let a single inch grow between you. You tried to focus on swiping the keycard against the reader as he half-heartedly muttered something about you needing to let a gentleman open the door, but the truth was neither of you cared who opened it. You just wanted to touch each other. To feel the press of his chest on your back, your laughter spilling into the quiet corridor, soft and unrestrained.

“C’mon,” he chuckled low, as your fingers missed the slot again, his hand coming up to steady yours, warm and wide and impossible not to melt into. “You're useless with this.”

“Maybe you should’ve done it then,” you teased, leaning into his hold, trying and failing to suppress the smile in your voice.

“Maybe you just wanted an excuse for me to hold you like this.” He smirked, the curl of his lips brushed against your cheek as he leaned into you. The door clicked open, finally, and Trent nudged it with his foot, but neither of you moved for a second. Your breath caught for the smallest moment, suspended in the closeness, his arms tightening instinctively.

–

The penthouse suite was ludicrously unnecessary. All clean lines, soft neutrals, and opulent restraint—floor-to-ceiling windows casting the city’s glow across the gleaming wood floors. Too big for a last-minute plan. Too elegant for a bottle of Dom and an order of truffle chips. But somehow, it felt just right. Because he’d done this for you. Because you mattered. And maybe that’s what made you fall just a little harder.

Still giggling, you shrugged your coat off, toeing off your trainers as you wandered in. He was already walking toward the wardrobe, opening it like he knew exactly what he was looking for. He pulled out a plush white robe, still hanging neatly on its wooden hanger, and turned to face you, one brow raised. His smirk was lazy, a little crooked, a little dangerous.

“Wanna put one on?” he asked softly, voice low and warm. You nodded, heartbeat skipping. He took the hanger, hanging it back up and tossed the robe onto the bed, then stepped toward you, slow, deliberate, like he was approaching something sacred. Something he wanted to worship. His fingers brushed the hem of the hoodie you wore—his hoodie—and without a word, you raised your arms. A silent offering. Trusting. Wanting. He peeled it off over your head with aching care, the static crackle of the cotton passing over your hair like a soft gasp in the room. His eyes lingered on your bare shoulders, lips parting slightly, exhaling like he’d forgotten how to breathe. “Next time,” he murmured, eyes dark, “I wanna see you in my kit.” You smirked softly, pulse thrumming.

“If you get me one, I will.” Your gaze flicked up to his, full of mischief. “Why? You didn’t like the shirt I wore tonight?” His jaw flexed.

[Belong To You - Sabrina Claudio ft. 6LACK]

“No.” He stepped forward again, close enough to feel the heat radiate off his chest. “Didn’t like it one bit.” His hands slid to the hem of your tank top, fingers hooking there as he peeled it off slow—agonizingly slow—his eyes never leaving yours. You felt it everywhere. The way his touch seared down your arms, the way his pupils were blown wide like he was drinking you in. “Nah, not fair,” he whispered, almost like it was to himself. “You’re not fair.” Now you were standing there in your bra, a dainty lace thing that somehow made you feel more naked than nude. His gaze dropped and he breathed out a quiet curse, almost reverent. His hands settled on your hips again, thumbs skating under the waistband of your jeans, brushing the skin just above them. You reached for his Nike tech now, unzipping it tauntingly slow, dragging it off his shoulders, letting it fall behind him. Then equally as slow, you tugged his shirt up, revealing the hard slope of his stomach, the V of his hips that made your breath hitch in your throat. He helped you, arms raising, the top coming off in one smooth motion, Trent tossing it onto the carpet. You were quiet. It was all quiet. Except for the breathing. Except for the heartbeat in your throat. Except for the way he looked at you—like it hurt to. “C’mere,” he said, voice a rasp, low and hoarse with want. And you did. Because how could you not? His hands mapped your waist, your back, the curve of your spine. You slid your fingers under the waistband of his joggers teasingly, the tension between you trembling with restraint. It wasn’t about lust alone. It was longing. The kind that aches through your fingertips. The kind that tastes like promises you’re still too scared to say.

And then his mouth was on you, slow, sinful kisses dragging across your skin. His lips brushed the slope of your neck, barely there, just breath and heat and the maddening promise of more. You exhaled slow, heavy, tilting your head to give him better access as his mouth trailed downward, dragging along your collarbone with aching reverence. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize the taste of your skin, like he couldn’t quite believe you were here, with him, again. His fingers found the top button of your jeans. You felt his breath hitch as he worked it loose, the rasp of denim parting slow beneath his knuckles. His mouth still on your neck, tongue flicking the hollow there, sucking gentle, then firmer, until a quiet gasp escaped your lips.

“Still want me to kiss you?” he whispered, voice frayed and desperate, his mouth grazing your ear as his hands slipped to your hips. It was a taunt, maybe a tease about your drunk call whilst in Miami but it was also obvious hunger too. “Tell me.” He commanded low. But you didn’t speak. You only inched closer, barely a breath of space between you, and let your lips brush his jaw, your body pressed to his like gravity itself had given up trying to keep you apart. You nodded slowly.

“Want yours on mine.” Purringly, teasingly—you hummed. “Didn’t I say I liked the perfect combo?” Trent groaned, a low sound from deep in his chest, like you’d just wrecked the last of his composure. Your hands pulled at the waistband of his joggers, curling your fingers into the elastic, and with deliberate slowness, you slid his joggers down, inch by inch, over the sculpted lines of his hips, his thighs—until they pooled at his feet and he stepped out of them, now in just his black boxers. It made your breath catch. You’d never seen anything more beautiful. Every inch of him was golden and strong and warm, muscles flexing under soft light, a trail of perfection and tension leading down, eyes so dark they looked like they’d swallowed every last shard of restraint he had left. Now you stood together—both stripped down to just lace and skin and heat. And silence. But it wasn’t empty. It pulsed with all the things you hadn’t said.

His hand slid up your back, hooking at the clasp of your bra, the other cupping your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek like he was holding something too delicate to grip too tight. Then finally—finally—he kissed your lips. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was slow, and deep, and devastating. Lips parting softly, tasting each other like it was the first time again. Like he wanted to earn every second of it. His tongue flicked against yours and your knees threatened to give way. You clutched his shoulders, nails dragging lightly across his skin, and he moaned into your mouth, like he could feel it everywhere. His hands roamed—mapping you, memorizing you—palming your waist, your ribs, your spine, until he was lifting you, pressing you into the wall with his hips firm between your thighs. The cool wall behind you made you shiver, but he was all heat, all wanting. His kisses traveled down your throat again, sucking gently at the sensitive place beneath your ear, and you gasped, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

“I need you, baby,” he breathed, voice ragged, almost reverent. “Don’t care if it ruins me.” Your fingers laced through his curls at the top of his head, tugging his face back to yours.

“Need me,” you whispered, lips grazing his. “Need you to ruin me.” You begged. His eyes narrowed and then your lips collided with his again—deeper, filthier, hungrier this time. And still somehow, filled with more love than either of you dared admit. He kissed you again like he couldn't help himself—like kissing you was both a surrender and salvation. Your back pressed against the wall, your legs still curled around his waist tighter, and every part of your body felt lit from within, pulled taut with want. But it wasn’t just lust. It never was with him. It was need in its purest form—the kind that came with knowing someone too well, craving them not only in your body, but in the quiet places behind your ribs, in the hollows they once touched without meaning to. He carried you, hands firm beneath your thighs, walking blind into the bedroom like he knew the way by instinct alone. The robe you never put on lay forgotten at the foot of the bed, your shirt already a memory, the room golden and hushed around you. Trent laid you down slow, like you were sacred. His mouth left trails—on your collarbone, between your breasts, along the lace edge of your bra—until he peeled it away with agonizing care, revealing you to him fully. His eyes darkened, drinking you in, not with greed but reverence.

“You don’t even know…” he murmured, almost to himself. “How long I’ve wanted you like this again. Just f’me. Just like this.” You reached for him, your fingers finding the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down with trembling hands until they were tossed away, joining the growing heap of clothes scattered on the floor somewhere. He hissed as your hand grazed him, a sharp inhale against your neck.

“Just for you. Just like this,” you whispered. “Show me what you’ve been wanting, baby.” And he did. He touched you with the kind of patience that made you ache, kissing down your stomach, hooking your panties between his teeth and dragging them down inch by inch, eyes never leaving yours. Every inch he uncovered made your breath catch, not from shame, but from the weight of being seen. Fully. Entirely. He kissed your inner thigh, slow and deliberate, then the other, until you were trembling beneath him, hips arching in silent plea. “Please,” you exhaled, voice breaking under the weight of wanting. He hummed, low and satisfied, and lowered his mouth to you. The first touch of his tongue made you gasp. The second had you clutching the sheets. And when he flattened his tongue and dragged it slow, up and through your slick heat, a moan clawed from your chest so soft and honest it broke something in both of you. He devoured you—utterly, completely—his hands firm on your hips as you writhed beneath him. He flicked, circled, sucked until your thighs shook and your breath stuttered, the coil inside you tightening, burning, threatening to snap. Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging hard, and he moaned into you, sending shockwaves up your spine. “Trent—fuck—I’m—” You whined desperately.

“Let go for me, baby,” he breathed, lips swollen, voice husky, vibrating against your sensitive clit. “Let me feel you.” And you did, eyes fluttering shut, a cry escaping you as your body unravelled beneath his mouth, pulsing, gripping nothing but air and the echo of his name. He grinned against your sopping wet core, a victory better than the one nil win against West Ham ever could be. He kissed your hip before rising, flushed and wrecked with desire. You pulled him up, dragging him into you until you could kiss him, taste yourself on his tongue, your legs parting again, welcoming him home.

“Now, T. Need you now.” You gasped desperately pulling him into you. And when he entered you, slow and deep, both of you stilled—breathless– the air leaving your lungs. It felt like everything. He buried his face into your neck, consumed by pleasure, breathing ragged as he rocked into you, hips rolling slow, deep, intentional.

“God, you feel—fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, like the words were dragged out of him. “Take me so good, baby. You always do f’me.” Your hands roamed his back, nails digging into his muscles as your bodies found rhythm, a kind of quiet storm where love and lust bled together. Every movement was poetry—gasps, moans, whispered names tangled in the thick heat of the room.

“I don’t ever want you to stop,” you whispered, voice cracking as you met his thrusts, your foreheads pressed together, sweat slick and trembling.

“Not gonna. You’re gonna keep taking me,” he commanded but it was something dangerously close to a plea. “Be a good girl. Just like tha’ Stay right here with me. Don’t leave me again.” Your heart twisted because it wasn’t about the room or the night or even the sex—it was about everything you hadn’t said. Everything you feared would ruin what this was. You kissed him like an answer. Moved with him like a promise. And when the second wave came, crashing hard and brilliant, you weren’t sure if the tears on your cheeks were from pleasure or the sheer, staggering weight of loving him this much. He came with your name in his mouth, broken and breathless, holding you tight like he never wanted to let go. And you held him back, knowing you couldn’t. Not tonight. Likely not ever.

—

The silence after was the loudest thing in the room. Not empty. Not awkward. But full. Of heat still clinging to your skin. Of your mingled breaths slowing in sync. Of the invisible hum that only came when something sacred had happened. The kind of silence that settled not just in the air, but in the chest—like love had slipped into the room while you were distracted, and now it was everywhere. Trent’s arm was still around you, his thumb moving in absentminded circles along your waist, like he wasn’t ready to stop touching you. Like if he let go, the moment might disappear. His nose brushed your shoulder, lips ghosting your skin with the lightest kiss, and you shivered even though you weren’t cold. After a beat, he moved—reluctantly—but you felt the mattress dip as he got up, warmth pulling from your side. You watched him go with heavy-lidded eyes, heart fluttering in your chest like a secret, still unraveling what had just happened. How good he made you feel. How safe.

He returned seconds later, towel slung loose around his hips, but it wasn’t the sight of him that stole your breath—it was how gently he sat beside you, fingers trailing up your ankle, slow, like reverence. Then, with a softness that didn’t match the heat from before, he leaned down and kissed it. And then the inside of your calf. Then higher, the curve of your knee. The dip of your thigh. His mouth moved with intention, unhurried, pressing kisses into every inch of your skin like he was committing you to memory all over again. Trent had never done this before, never cared like this before, he’d never loved before. And yet, it came like a natural instinct. His hands were warm where they held you, grounding you, worshipping you. By the time he reached your sternum, you weren’t breathing—you were floating.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, brushing a kiss between your breasts. “You know that?” You couldn’t answer. You didn’t know how. He kissed your collarbone, your shoulder, the place just beneath your ear. “So good for me. Always so good for me.” Your throat tightened. “C’mere, baby,” he murmured next, curling a hand behind your neck. He was so soft with you, for you. You moved on instinct of your own, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, meaning to let him pull you upright—but instead you giggled, tipping him back down into the mattress, pressing your lips to his with a smile you couldn’t fight off. You loved him. You loved him so stupidly. He groaned into your mouth—half laugh, half need—and let himself be kissed, deep and slow, like you were thanking him without words. But that’s when it happened. The words nearly escaped him. They gathered like rain behind his teeth, on the edge of his tongue, aching to be said. I love you. But he kissed you again instead, desperately, swallowing them down, because saying them again meant there was no going back. And part of him knew—once those words left his lips, everything would change. Even if you didn’t say it back. Even if you did. So he kissed you instead. Slow. Sweet. Soulful. You felt it in your bones anyway. Eventually, he pulled back, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Let’s get you cleaned up, silly girl, hmm?” He whispered, voice honey-thick, tugging you gently toward him. You let your limbs tangle around his bare torso, your cheek pressed to his shoulder as he lifted you with ease, carrying you through the golden-hued suite and into the marble-tiled ensuite. The room smelled like eucalyptus and warm stone. The kind of luxury that felt almost too soft for the rest of the world—but perfect for this. For him. For you. He sat you down on the edge of the shower bench, reaching over to start the water. Steam rose quickly, fogging the glass, the sound of water filling the silence like a lullaby. Then, wordlessly, he stepped in first—offering you his hand as you followed. The warm water cascaded over you both, the pressure soothing, the heat enveloping. But it was his hands that made you melt—gliding down your back, gentle as ever, his fingers moving with care. He picked up a bottle of body wash, squeezing a little into his palm before working it into your skin with slow, reverent circles. He washed you like you were fragile, sacred. A glass girl he could never get enough of. You let your head fall against his chest, eyes closed, breath soft. Tired but never of him, never of his slow hypnotic movements you wanted seared onto you. You felt drunk on the tenderness, eyes fluttering closed as he rinsed you with the detachable nozzle, always careful to shield your face with his hand.

“You feel like a dream sometimes,” you murmured, not even realizing you’d said it aloud. You looked up at him, cheeks damp from steam and shower spray. He smiled, the kind of smile that made you feel like he might ever want anyone else again. And he didn’t. “Trent,” you whispered, just his name. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your mouth, slow and aching. And in that quiet space of hot water and held breath, everything that hadn't been said between you still filled the room, hanging like steam in the air. It didn’t need to be spoken. You both already knew. Love was here. In the silence. In the steam. In the soft touch of hands and hearts that didn’t know how to let go.

—

After the water was turned off, you lingered for a moment in the fog. Neither of you moved, as if breaking the stillness would shatter something precious. Trent stayed close, towel in hand, brushing water from your skin like he was afraid to let it linger too long. Every movement was slow, reverent — like he was unwrapping a gift he didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky to hold. He dried you with a kind of devotion that didn’t need to be loud — hands tracing your arms, your back, the delicate edges of your collarbone. He wrapped you in the oversized towel, tucking it snug at your chest before dropping a kiss to your shoulder. You stood on your toes, brushing a kiss to his jaw.

“Can we do it now?” Your voice was quiet when you asked it, barely more than a breath.

“Do what?” He looked down at you, one brow raised. A boyish sexual innuendo popping into his head he couldn’t fight.

“Bathrobes.” You bit your lip, bashful. A soft laugh slipped from his lips — low and warm — and he pressed his forehead to yours, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“Yeah, baby. Can do robes now.” And so he handed you one, the plush terry fabric still smelling faintly of the hotel’s linen room — lavender, cotton, something faintly woodsy. You slipped it on, cinching the belt at your waist, and padded barefoot to the bed while Trent grabbed his.

The room was dim now, lit only by the golden glow of a lamp and the soft spill of city lights filtering through gauzy curtains. You crawled beneath the sheets, robe still on, hair still damp from the shower, and sank into the mattress like it had been made for you. When Trent joined you, everything shifted. He didn’t just lie next to you — he wrapped himself around you. One arm beneath your head, the other drawing slow, lazy shapes against your hip. Your legs tangled instinctively, your fingers finding his chest like they belonged there. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The quiet was thick, warm. A kind of silence that had weight to it — not heavy, but whole. You felt it in your chest — the swelling ache of being so in love with him, you weren’t sure your body could hold it all. You loved him in the quiet. You loved him in his heartbeat. You loved him in the way he traced your skin like he was reading a language he never wanted to forget. And maybe you didn’t need to say it. Not tonight. Not yet. Because you could feel it humming between you. His lips pressed to your temple, then your cheek, his breath warm against your skin.

“You okay?” he whispered, voice rasped from the day, from you.

“Mhm. You?” You nodded into his chest.

“Yeah,” he said, a beat slower. “Better than okay.” You smiled softly, your thumb brushing against the place over his heart.

“Good. I like when you’re okay with me.” You squeezed him a bit tighter and Trent felt like his heart was going to explode. He picked up your hand and kissed your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours placing it back down. Another long silence passed, but it wasn’t empty. It was filled with everything.

“I like you in this,” he murmured, tugging at your robe. You looked up at him, eyes soft, full of something that scared you.

“Better than your jumper or potentially your kit?” You asked lightly but laced with sincerity.

“Better than anything.” He didn’t need to say more. Eventually, your breathing slowed. Your fingers stilled. You let yourself sink further into him, the sheets cool beneath you, the weight of his hand on your back grounding you like an anchor. The love in the room wasn’t loud. But it was everywhere. Tucked into each touch, folded into every breath, heavy in the quiet between heartbeats.

—

[40 days - Tamera ft. CKay]

The bed had welcomed you both like a secret kept too long — warm, pillowy, impossibly soft, the linen cool against your flushed skin. You stayed wrapped in terry robes, skin still humming from the shower, your cheek had nestled itself over Trent’s chest, perfectly content. Outside, the city glittered in amber and indigo, distant headlights flickering across the suite’s high windows like fireflies. The TV played in the background, the familiar buzz of Entourage casting cool, flickering light across the walls — but neither of you was really watching. The dialogue blurred into a low murmur, barely audible beneath the sound of your slow, even breaths and the quiet pulse of your heart as it synced with his. Trent lay reclined, his robe parted enough for your fingers to wander — tracing the smooth planes of his abdomen, the rise and dip of muscle, the warmth of him. Your nails ghosted along the faint trail of hair below his navel, drawing shapes you weren’t thinking too hard about. You just needed to touch him. To remind yourself he was real. Here. Yours. You tilted your face, nuzzling into the space just beneath his jaw. The skin was still faintly damp from the steam, his scent all citrus and cedar and something impossibly heavenly. You pressed a kiss there, letting your lips linger against him, open-mouthed and silent, as if you could breathe him in completely if you just stayed close enough. And he didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t say a word. He just held you — his hand resting over the curve of your thigh, thumb stroking absently, like his body couldn’t help but seek yours even in stillness. But then, just as your eyelids began to flutter closed, he shifted. Barely — a breath, really. But his hand left your thigh and your body reacted immediately, a soft, sleep-slurred whine escaping your throat as you clung tighter to him, burying your nose deeper into his neck like that alone might anchor him. Trent laughed — low, amused, dripping with affection. He dipped his head and kissed your hair, lips brushing the crown like a benediction.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he murmured against you, the words melting into your skin. “Just gotta order your champagne and chips before room service closes, beautiful.” You huffed, voice muffled by his chest.

“I was your champagne and chips…” You complained wanting to be his only room service tonight.

“You still are,” he chuckled, reaching carefully for the hotel phone across the nightstand, his free arm never fully leaving you. “But pretty girls like you need some sustenance.” You tilted your chin, watching him beneath heavy lashes. The soft lamp glow painted him in gold, jawline kissed with light, robe barely clinging to one shoulder. He looked effortless. Golden. Like something carved for worship.

“Dom?” you whispered, voice small, unsure if it was silly to hope he’d remembered. He glanced down at you with a look so full of tenderness it made your stomach ache.

“I know what you like. Don't you worry.” He winked back at you. Your eyes welled with the kind of feeling too big for your body. The kind that swelled in the silence and lodged in your throat when you tried to swallow it down. You listened as he placed the order — his voice lower, richer, almost reverent as he leaned into the receiver, tired, scouse accent fading ever so slightly for clarity.

“Yeah, can I get a bottle of the Dom ’08, please. Truffle chips… and ermm..” Trent paused thinking for a moment. “Do those chocolate strawberries too, if you’ve got them. White chocolate, yeah. Cheers, mate.” He hung up and turned back to you with a soft, crooked smile — the kind that said he knew exactly what he’d just done to your heart.

“You’re annoying,” you whispered, eyes glinting. He leaned in slowly, brushing the tip of your nose with his.

“Nah, I know you’re chuffed I remembered those strawberries. I’m not even a white chocolate lad, but for you baby…” He smirked knowingly. Your smile cracked despite yourself, mouth brushing his in the most delicate of kisses — not hungry, not desperate. Just grateful. Soft. Sweet. The kind of kiss that said thank you without needing words. He sighed as he pulled back, his thumb smoothing over your cheekbone. “Whatever you want. I’ll get it. I gotcha. Always.” And then he pulled you closer again, your thigh slung over his waist, your hand resting over his heart like you could feel the truth in those words beating against your palm. Always.

Outside, the night pulsed on. But in the cocoon of that room — between the flickering blue glow of a forgotten show and the soft promise of champagne on the way — it was quiet. Sacred. Your bodies still buzzing, but your hearts wrapped in something warmer. Something that lingered long after the heat. This wasn’t just a moment. It was a memory being made in real time — love blooming not in grand declarations, but in terry cloth robes and shared laughter, in quiet touches and the simple knowing that he saw you. Chose you. Loved you, maybe — even if neither of you had said it yet tonight. And God, did it feel like he had.

—

A soft knock broke the stillness, low and tentative, barely louder than the heartbeat between you. Trent shifted, untangling himself from your limbs with a reluctant groan. You held him tighter, not appreciating anything that made him move even a little bit from you.

“Room service, baby,” he mumbled, voice gravel-thick and sleep-warm as he kissed your hair before moving. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He smirked teasingly. You nodded, sinking further into the bed pulling the covers up higher, missing his warmth under you, clinging to the space where he’d just left. You were half-asleep but your eyes tracked him the whole way — the robe slung loosely around him before he adjusted it, the lean lines of his body haloed by the soft light. He moved with that quiet grace he always had, barefoot and rumpled, all strong limbs and boyish charm. And when he opened the door, the way he smiled and murmured his thanks made your chest ache — because no one else got to see him like this. Soft. Stripped back. Yours.

He came back with a silver tray balanced in one arm like it weighed nothing, setting it carefully on the bench at the foot of the bed. His eyes flicked to you immediately, like he couldn’t help it — like making you smile was still the most important part of the night.

“Still alive under there, baby?” You peeked out from under the duvet, smirking.

“Barely. Starving now.” He laughed, low and affectionate, reaching for the Dom like it was muscle memory. He moved to the side of the bed and sank down next to you.

“Alright then. Let’s do it proper.” You sat up, curling your legs beneath you as he peeled the foil and cage away from the bottle. His hands worked the cork gently, slowly — and then POP! — the champagne fired free with a sharp kiss of air and bubbles. You squealed on instinct, half-joking but still startled, diving behind him with a soft shriek and wrapping your arms tight around his waist.

“Trent!” you giggled into his back, nose buried between his shoulder blades. He laughed loudly, unapologetically genuine, head tilted back in a full, boyish laugh that made your heart trip.

“Baby! It’s just champagne! Relax” He smile grew bigger. You were adorable and he was in deep.

“You popped it so aggressively!” You whined with a soft giggle, squeezing him a little tighter teasingly.

“It’s Dom, I had to give it some drama!” Still clinging to him, you poked your cheek out from behind his shoulder with a pout.

“I hate you.” You feigned annoyance. He twisted around, wine-slick eyes landing on yours, his grin going soft. Gentle just for you.

“Nah you don’t. You just like holding onto me when you’re scared.” Your jaw slacked in mock offense. “Or pretending to be scared.” He giggled cheekily. You tightened your grip on him a little more, squeezing him playfully, curling into him like he was shelter and sky and sea all at once.

“Mmm. Fine, maybe. You are pretty nice to hold onto.” You admitted. He kissed your temple, slow and tender.

“Like when you hold onto me. Scared or not, hope you always do.” There was something in the way he said it — quiet, almost offhand, but it stayed in the air between you like perfume. Not possessive. Not demanding. Just… hopeful. Like the idea of you always curling into him was enough to keep him afloat for years. You watched as he poured the champagne into the delicate flutes with practiced ease, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You look like a man who’s done this before,” you teased, bumping your shoulder into his.

“Only do it like this with you,” he murmured, handing you a glass. You blinked, heart stumbling again. Like this. With you. You clinked your flute against his, the ring of crystal delicate and shimmering in the stillness.

“To what?” you asked, voice just a whisper. He didn’t hesitate.

“To you, baby.” He smirked as you blushed. God, was he good at this. He always had been. But what you didn't realize was that Trent felt that way about you. The bubbles tickled your lips, but your smile was what made him drunk. You both leaned back into the pillows, fingers brushing as you reached for a chip, laughing softly when he stole the first one out from under you.

“So rude!” You exclaimed. He giggled like a little boy and you rolled your eyes but you were completely infatuated with that sound, that boy, this man. “Ever heard of ladies first?” You teased him with a smile that hadn’t left your face for hours.

“Nah, sorry, Fucking starving, beautiful. Played 90 minutes and then some bird put me through a hell of a workout in bed after it.” He smirked, plucking the chip resting in between your fingers from you, popping it into his mouth again. Your jaw slacked. He just muffled another giggle chewing your chip mockingly, eyes lit with something that could only be described as love.

The tray sat between you like a picnic built for just the two of you — Dom and strawberries and truffle chips in a penthouse you hadn’t planned to end up in. And still, nothing could’ve made more sense. You looked at him like he hung the stars, and he looked at you like you were the sky. It wasn’t loud. Wasn’t cinematic. It was a quiet kind of magic — the kind that happened when love didn’t have to be said to be heard. And under the glow of the bedside lamp, with crumbs between you and champagne fizzing softly in your glass, Trent reached for your hand — thumb brushing the inside of your wrist, a touch so gentle it made you ache — and you thought: If this is a dream, don’t wake me. Because you had never felt so real.

—

The night had slowed to a dreamy hum. Champagne fizzed lazily in your glasses, the tv hummed through the suite’s, and the city lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows like stars trying to reach you. The tray of room service lay half-devoured between you, and you were both sunk into the pillows — legs tangled, cheeks warm, grins lazy from the kind of happiness that felt both new and ancient. Trent leaned over, plucked a chip from the plate, and held it up between his fingers like a challenge.

“Bet you can’t catch it,” he said, eyes twinkling, boy-ish. Ever competitive, looking for a game.

“Trent…” You narrowed yours, playful suspicion blooming.

“What?” He smirked.

“You’re going to make a mess in the bed,” you pouted, lips forming the softest frown, head tipping as you leaned into him.

“It won’t if you catch it.” He chuckled, entirely unbothered.

“It won’t matter! It’ll drop crumbs all over the sheets,” you argued, already giggling at his eagerness, or maybe just catching some of his childishness.

“I believe in you.” His voice was mock-serious, but there was warmth behind it, pride even — like he truly meant it. “Come on, baby. You’ve got it.” He reached over and squeezed your bare thigh. You laughed, cheeks heating, entirely smitten by the ridiculousness of the ask and by him.

“Okay, okay,” you whispered, brushing your hands against the comforter as you shuffled up to sit straighter. “But if it gets anywhere, you’re cleaning it up or calling for new sheets.” He grinned, eyes locked on yours.

“Fair.” You licked your lips and opened your mouth just slightly, lips parted as you tilted your chin up. Trent’s gaze lingered on your expression — trusting, bashful, but game — and he nearly forgot to toss it. Then, with a gentle flick of his wrist, the chip arced through the air. Plop — it landed perfectly between your lips. Your eyes went wide with surprise and triumph, cheeks puffed slightly as you bit down, then let out the happiest little squeal.

“T!!” You muffled in excitement whilst holding the chip between your lips.

“That’s my girl,” he said proudly, reaching to squeeze your thigh again like he couldn’t help himself. “See? No mess.” Your smile went coy. Mischief shimmered in your eyes as you leaned toward him, the last bit of chip still caught between your lips like bait. You didn’t have to say a word. Trent met you halfway, like he could read your mind — his body shifting toward yours with an almost reverent slowness, nose brushing yours, breath warm against your cheek, gripping your neck possessively pulling you to him. He bent closer until his mouth met yours at the edge of the chip, and in a soft, playful bite, he took the other end. And then his lips melted into yours. Slow. Silken. Deliciously sweet. The kiss tasted like salt and champagne and something even softer — something that was so obviously love if you dared to name it. It was the kind of kiss that made your fingertips tingle, your heart squeeze, your chest feel too small to hold all the feeling swelling inside. He kissed you like the world had gone quiet just for this moment. And as you fell into it, hands gripping the front of his robe to keep him close, you knew — with every chip shared, every lazy laugh, every press of his lips — that you were falling deeper. That somehow, you already had. But still, you said nothing. Because the truth was far too loud to speak aloud.

—

The room was dim now, bathed in the low flicker of television light as Entourage continued to play on into the early hours of the morning, the volume barely audible beneath the quiet of your breathing. It had to be season three by now, maybe four — but neither of you were watching. The show had become a backdrop to the real scene unfolding — this cocoon of warmth, skin, breath, and bare honesty between tangled sheets. The robes had been discarded somewhere between chips and kisses, forgotten like the rest of the world. Your bare leg was slung over his, your arm draped across his stomach, fingers absently sketching soft, meaningless shapes over his skin. You were closer now than any fabric would’ve allowed. Warm and pressed into him like your bodies were trying to fuse where they touched. His skin held the scent of champagne and soap, his arm heavy around you, his thumb tracing your hip in lazy circles like he couldn’t help it. Like he had to keep touching you just to know you were real. The room was a silence filled with sound — the rhythm of breath, the soft rustle of sheets, the gentle hum of unsaid things.

“T…” You whispered. “Do you ever feel lonely?” you asked suddenly, voice barely louder than a thought. Trent blinked, glanced down at you with a sleepy smirk, lips brushing your hair.

“Nah,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’m never alone.” You smiled faintly, but your heart dipped. You’d thought about this a lot when it came to Trent. When the cheeky persona leveled out, the press stopped inquiring, his friends went home, the club crest peeled off his chest, when he turned out the lights in a room miles away from home…

“That’s not what I asked,” you murmured, your voice threading through the stillness like something sacred. “I just mean… when it all dies down. The noise. The cameras. Do you ever feel lonely?” There was a quiet pause. The kind that says everything before words even come. He swallowed hard, your question unearthing something he hadn’t meant to look at tonight. His thumb stilled on your hip.

“Erm… nah. But I know what you mean,” he said softly, hesitantly. But his voice caught at the end, like it cracked around the edges of something he hadn’t yet named. He didn’t speak again for a long moment. You felt the shift in him — the tension, the ache, the way his chest rose and fell a little more unevenly now. So you curled into him further, your voice a whisper of silk.

“You don’t have to answer,” you said gently, eyes fluttering closed as your cheek settled against his chest. You could imagine it all, maybe never fully understand it but you wanted to listen if he ever wanted to share. You cared too much about him to pretend. Pretend in the way you could feel other people around him did. “But you can open up to me if you ever want. Just want to know your heart, baby. It’s safe with me.” You kissed his bare chest softly. “You’re safe with me. I’m here… or can be when it goes quiet.” You softly spoke and Trent swallowed. And God, it was like you cracked him open. Emotion rushed behind his eyes but he tried to blink it away. He inhaled slowly for a moment. Searching for composure but he couldn’t find any because no one had ever said that to him before. No one had offered him safety like this. Not openly. Not when he laid displayed like this; metaphorically and literally bare. He looked down at you, really looked — and in your eyes, he saw it. The softness. The truth. The terrifying, unspoken love that lived in you like a second heartbeat. He’d never been known like this. Not the footballer. Not the playboy. Him.

“Are you?” he asked quietly, voice rough with something that felt too heavy to name.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice barely there. “All the time.” And just like that, something splintered inside him. A girl like you — beautiful, brilliant, maddening in the way he wanted you even when you weren’t trying — admitting that you were lonely? It gutted him. He hated it. Hated the way your voice dipped like you were ashamed to say it aloud. He pulled you tighter, kissed the top of your head with something almost desperate.

“Girl like you should never feel lonely, baby” he whispered fiercely. Then your temple. Then your forehead. Finally his hand cradled your cheek, thumb tilting your face up until your eyes met his. His gaze was glassy. Terrified. Full of something that shimmered like adoration but felt too fragile to speak.

“I don’t feel as lonely with you,” he confessed. Soft. Bare. Real. Like the words had been locked somewhere inside him and you were the only person who’d ever found the key. And in that second, you saw it — truly saw him. The ache. The isolation. The way all the noise of his life was really just armor against the silence that followed when the crowds went home. But with you, he didn’t feel that way. Not even a little.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Mmhmm.” He nodded slowly, curling his hand behind your head as he guided you gently back to his chest, needing you close, needing to feel your breath warm against his skin. “Just being with you…” He sighed, not really sure how to articulate what he was feeling even though the word was right there. So instead he inhaled you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment; wishing, wanting, willing. “I think about you a lot, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your hair. You let yourself melt into him, every part of you pressed to his body, breathing him in like he’d grounded you. Like he was home.

“I think about you so often. Care about you,” you whispered, voice cracking faintly. “You make me feel less alone, T.” And he held you tighter at that — arms folding around you as if he could shield you from every ache, every hollow part inside you. Your lips brushed over his bare skin, just over his heart, and he exhaled shakily like it unraveled him. Neither of you spoke again after that. There were no more words left — just hearts laid bare and a love too big to name pulsing between your bodies, blooming in the stillness of the early morning hours. Wrapped in warmth. In trust. In each other. Too in love to say it. Too in love not to feel it.

—

The room had gone impossibly still. Just the low flicker of the television still playing on — silent now, really. Or maybe the world had just gone quiet inside your mind. The soft hush of sheets and breath, the weight of Trent’s arms around you, the slow, deliberate thud of his heart beneath your cheek. It was all lulling you into something you couldn’t name — not quite sleep, not quite consciousness. A dream you were still in the middle of. One he somehow existed in too. Your fingers curled against his ribs, his skin so warm, so alive. So his. The scent of him—faint champagne, salt, hotel linen—wrapped around you like a second duvet. His hand, spread across the small of your back, was barely moving now. Just resting there, like a promise. You didn’t want to sleep. You didn’t want to let go. But your body was softening, folding into him completely, because how could it not? He was so perfect like this. So quiet. So yours. And yet somehow not. Not really. And that thought… that quiet ache, slipped its way into your chest like smoke. You swallowed thickly, eyes still closed, and wondered how something could feel so right and still hurt so much. You loved him. You loved him. And it made your ribs ache. Because he hadn’t said it tonight. Not really. Not the words. Not the truth of them. Maybe he didn’t mean it anymore. Maybe he never had. Your chest stung just thinking it.

But then he exhaled—slow, low, like it carried all the weight of the day with it. And you didn’t see the way his eyes opened, drowsy but sad, fixed on the ceiling above you. You didn’t see the way his jaw tensed as if holding back words that clawed at his throat. He was hurting too. Wishing you’d say it first. Wishing he was brave enough to say it again. Because the thought of loving you without hearing it back — he didn’t think he could survive that twice. So instead, he kissed your hair again.

“You still awake, baby?” He murmured softly, almost nothing.

“Mhm.” You hummed sleepily, not even lifting your head.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice fraying at the edges. “Can you stay right here with me a little longer?” It was meak. It was weak in a way that the sound felt almost unrecognizable for him. And yet, you smiled faintly, eyes heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

“Wasn’t going anywhere.” A pause.

“You feel so good here,” he added, quieter now, almost like a confession. “Like you were meant to fit right there.”

“Sometimes it feels like… you were made for me,” you whispered, voice laced with exhaustion, heartache, and dizzy affection. “Like… like this is the only place I’ve ever felt safe.” He shut his eyes at that, breathing you in, heart thudding harder. “Is that okay?” You asked terrified, scared of feeling so safe for the first time in your life. Delirious- half asleep.

“Is okay,” he said roughly. Then, after a moment: “Me too, baby. Even when I’m not sayin’ it... I feel it. So deep, it scares me sometimes.” You didn’t reply. And that silence—soft and sleepy—scared him even more. But then you sighed. A gentle, breathless thing as your fingers curled in tighter.

“It’s like I’m dreaming,” you mumbled, words slurring slightly now. “And you’re in it. But I think I’m awake. Still feels like dreaming though.” Trent smiled faintly, kissed your temple.

“S’alright, baby. You can dream... I’ll be here.” And maybe he didn’t say the words you needed to hear. And maybe you didn’t either. But you both felt them. Thrumming beneath skin. Laced between heartbeats. Pressed into every touch. Every glance. Every quiet breath. You drifted further, slipping into something soft and endless, held to his chest like something holy, treasured. And Trent just stared at the ceiling, blinking slow, his hand over your spine. You fell asleep like that, wrapped in the arms of the boy who was slowly becoming your everything. Lulled into a slumber by your love for him. And Trent? He stayed awake just a little longer. Watching you. Memorizing the way you looked in his arms, in his life, as you became his life. He didn’t know how someone like you was real. Didn’t know how heaven could feel like the weight of a girl sleeping on his chest. He didn’t understand how something so divine had become something tangible—something he could hold. But he knew he never wanted to let it go. Not for anything. He thought maybe this was what peace felt like. Maybe this was what love really was.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered as he kissed your hair, too soft for you to hear but just in case it could reach you in your dreams.

Even with the ache, even with the silence. Even with everything they hadn’t said… That night, two people fell asleep. And somehow, impossibly— They fell even more in love too.

–

Morning arrived slowly—like the world was being reborn in soft light. Pale golden sun spilled in through the cracks of the curtains, warming the linen-strewn bed where you still lay tangled around him. The air was hushed, sacred. As if the city outside knew better than to disturb the stillness inside this room, where two people were quietly falling apart just to fall deeper into one another. Trent stirred first. Bare-chested, limbs heavy with sleep, face soft and unguarded in a way you rarely saw. Lashes casting shadows over high cheekbones. Lips parted with a sleepy breath that fanned against your forehead. His fingers, even in sleep, remained curled around your waist like a vow. You blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim light, to the weight of him beneath you. Your cheek still pressed to his chest, ear trained to the lullaby of his heartbeat. Safe. Steady. His. For a moment, you stayed there. Just breathing him in. Letting the ache of the night before melt into morning. Wondering how it was possible that you loved him this much. That you still hadn’t said it. But instead of speaking, you moved. Quietly. Deliberately. Slipping out from under his arm and easing your body beneath the covers, the air cool as it whispered over your skin. Trent mumbled sleepily, head still turned into the pillow.

“Where you goin’, baby?” You didn’t answer right away. Just smiled against the skin of his stomach, brushing your lips there softly. Reverently. He lifted his head lazily, voice rough with sleep and curiosity. “What are you doi–” he began to ask, eyes barely open, brows tugged together. You kissed him again, lower now.

“Shhh baby. Just let me say good morning,” you murmured, voice a quiet promise. He swore under his breath. A gentle, broken sound that cracked the morning hush.

“Wow, the woman that you are…” Your fingers traced lazy circles into the groove of his hip, the warmth of your mouth following the path you’d carved. Every inch of him golden in the sunlight, stretched out against the rumpled sheets like something carved for worship. But he wasn’t a statue. He was alive. Shifting slightly under your touch. Muscles tightening. Breath catching. And you—between kisses—whispered the truth the night had buried.

“You’re so sexy, T…”

Kiss.

“So good to me.”

Kiss.

“You always take care of me.” You glanced up just as his eyes fluttered open fully, jaw tight, gaze locked to yours like he couldn’t look anywhere else. His chest rose and fell, a visible tremble in his ribs. Like he was holding back everything. His hand found your hair, threading through it with aching care.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he murmured, voice shaking. “You’re gonna fucking ruin me, baby.” You smiled against his skin, letting the pad of your tongue flick lightly just below his navel, and you felt him shudder.

“Let me,” you whispered, and there was something so heartbreakingly soft in your tone it made his eyes burn. He wanted to say it. God, he did. I love you. But it nearly slipped too easily last night. And if he said it now, like this—half undone, completely yours—he knew there’d be no taking it back. So instead, he lay back, let his head fall to the pillow, let the sensation of your mouth take him, slowly at first, then deeper, your lips stretching to accommodate his girth. Let the love between your teeth unravel him piece by piece. Your hands splayed against his hips, guiding him gently as your mouth enveloped him, slow and reverent. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t about control or performance. It was love. Messy, terrifying, sacred love. And he felt it in the way you moaned softly around him, in the way your eyes fluttered shut like you were tasting something holy. Every movement tender, fluid, intimate. The rhythm of you two syncing like always—hearts, bodies, breaths. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue working in circles, moaning softly as you taste more of him. His hand stayed tangled in your hair, guiding you, but you needed no instruction. You knew what he liked and you were going to wake him up that way. You wanted to feel him lose control as the sun continued climbing in the sky. You took him deeper, your nose pressing into his pubic bone, feeling his length hit the back of your throat again and again. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard. He whispered your name like a prayer. Again and again. His hips bucked slightly. You could feel his length twitch in your mouth, you knew he was holding back, trying to prolong this moment of bliss. Until it didn’t feel like morning anymore. Until it didn’t feel like anything but you and him and the thunderstorm blooming behind his ribs.

"Fuck, baby, I can’t— Shit, I'm gonna cum," Trent grunted, his voice hoarse. You hummed in response, the vibrations pushing him over the edge. You swallowed around him, tasting his cum drip down your throat, continuing to suck and lick until he was completely spent. And even as he clenched the sheets, even as his thighs trembled and he bit back curses that cracked into moans, all he could think was: Say it. Just say it. But you didn’t. And he didn’t either. Even though everything in the room already had. Because as much as the pleasure was overwhelming, it was the emotion—pure and raw—that undid you both. It wasn’t just your bodies that were laid bare. It was your hearts. And maybe the words weren’t spoken aloud. But they were everywhere.

In the way he reached for you the moment you rose back into his arms. In the way your lips met his with a tenderness that almost hurt. In the way he kissed your temple, then your shoulder, then your hand. And in the way you whispered his name like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth. And maybe it wasn’t the morning either of you had planned. But it was real. And it was yours. And it was love.

–

The morning light stayed golden and slow across the hotel room, like it too was reveling in still being in bed. You sat curled against the pillows, Trent standing in front of the mirror in just his boxers now, rubbing a towel over his head, faint smirk tugging at his lips like he’d been dying to say something yesterday, all morning too but was holding it hostage just to mess with you. And then—

“Baby,” he cooed, too casual, “you remember calling me when you were in Miami?” You blinked, half still wrapped in sleep, half already bracing.

“No,” you lied, the word betraying you by coming out a little too fast. Trent turned, raising a brow, grin growing.

“Yeah you do.” He smirked. You pulled the duvet up to your nose, trying to disappear into it.

“No, I really don’t.” You giggled.

“You really do.” He chuckled, walking toward you, towel slung over his shoulder, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you. “Because I remember someone called me a little drunk. Think you said something about wanting me to kiss you…” Your breath hitched. Your cheeks burned. He heard both. He crouched at the edge of the bed, fingers gently curling around your wrist, pulling the duvet down just enough so he could see your face. “Think that was you…. Wasn’t it?” He purred with a smug smile. You nodded bashfully. “Thought so. You still want me to kiss you?” he asked softly. The playfulness was still there, but it melted at the edges, softened by sincerity. By the way he looked at you like he’d been waiting for the answer even though he already knew it. Even though his lips had already claimed yours a million times in this very room alone. You didn’t trust your voice not to crack, so you just nodded again. Slow. Sure. A soft smile ghosted over his lips. “Good because I’m glad you called,” he murmured. And before you could overthink your embarrassment or stop it or ruin it—Trent leaned in. One hand still wrapped around your wrist, the other curling around your neck, grounding you. The kiss was everything. Not the first. Not the last. But the one that made the others feel like preludes to this. He kissed you like he’d waited forever for it. Like he hadn’t kissed you this morning already. Like this one would undo every second apart, every time you’d tried to convince yourself it was nothing. That he was nothing. When he finally pulled back, his voice was a little breathless, a little sinful. “Yeah,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, “think you missed kissing me.” He smirked pompously. Obnoxious but true. You swallowed, heart stuttering in your chest.

“Think so?” You tried to retaliate, grasping for some of the cheek he seemed to possess so easily. He just grinned.

“I know so. And I know I missed kissing you, baby.” He smiled leaning in again, his lips claiming yours again just like you hoped they would when you called in Miami.

•

Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to what's ahead!

PLEASE PLEASE Please like, comment, or message what you think!!!

Next part - Chapter 18 - Birthday Baby

📷 🪩 💄 🤍 🎞️ 🎱🍸 💷

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #aperture fic

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champagnefountains · 1 year ago

Note

I have a request if they're still open.

Alastor decides to hire Reader as a radio intern. He first did it for entertainment, sending them out to do ridiculously hard and long tasks for his own amusement, like fetching him coffee from the other side of Hell in a super short period of time or proof reading scripts that he purposely made completely illegible to anyone but himself, but had slowly begun to fall for them the longer they stuck around.

ALASTOR - H.H.

Prompt: Being Alastor's radio intern.

Thank you for your request anon! I hope you'll enjoy this one!

Word count: 1.5k+ words. Genre/other tags: Fluff. Humour. Warnings: None.

You were unfortunate to have your soul be owned by the renowned Radio-Demon. Tough luck. You were merely a desperate soul who needed a major favour to be done by yours truly, and are now forever tied and forced to do his bidding. You initially expected a life-time of torture and pain, but was pleasantly surprised when he had requested for you to be his personal radio-intern-slash-assistant.

"Dear Charlie and I have been so, so busy and I just need an extra hand is all...and that's where you come in!" He chimed, pinching your cheek. Alastor explained that he needed someone to assist in managing his radio-broadcasts and schedules while he was out playing hotelier. And just as you thought that you were off the hook, it turns out that this had been his own, little way of torturing you.

Alastor made you do the most ridiculous and tedious tasks ever – like fetching a cup of coffee from a cafe situating on the other side of Hell, or obtain some weird, obscure item from sketchy shops in the most dangerous and chaotic districts in all the Nine Circles, only for it to have little to no significance to him at all. Of course, you did some actual radio-intern-related tasks, but it didn't make things any easier for you. More so than often, Alastor would give you a stack-pile of his broadcast scripts to proof-read. The only problem was that all of it was mostly illegible, almost appearing like chicken scratch. It was then that you knew for certain he was doing this as some sort of sick entertainment for himself, knowing that he had the neatest penmanship amongst the entire team. Oh, and don't even get started with the ridiculous deadlines!

All in all, Alastor was constantly giving you a hard time. However, you were determined to not let him continue to walk all over you. After some time, you were slowly getting used to his strange requests and behaviours, and managed to find ways to work around them. Oh, he wanted his oddly specific order of coffee? You already had it ordered beforehand, and even had the beans supplied to have it readily brewed in the Hotel. He asked for some random-ass antique item? You had already established some connections during your previous commutes, and will have it delivered on the doorstep the next day. You needed to proof-read his scripts? You've learnt to decipher his hieroglyphics and were able to get them done hours before its deadline, whilst also adding in a few of your own critiques and comments.

Already a couple months in the job and you've already got it in the bag. And if he was being honest, Alastor was surprised with your progress. Dare say that he was even impressed! It was like no matter what he had thrown your way, you were able to catch it with ease. Yes, he had to admit: he did initially hire you for his own entertainment – you were his little play-thing when boredom struck – but you had proved yourself as an important asset and massive help towards him and the Hotel. You even went out of your way to help with tasks in the Hotel, such as tending the front desk with Cherri, assisting in the kitchen with Nifty, and even managing some group activities alongside Charlie and Vaggie.

You were incredibly hard-working, selfless and compassionate. Alastor and everyone in the Hotel could see it. It initially ticked Alastor off, seeing that his plans were foiled and were tailored to your favour, but the more you stuck around and spent time with himself and everyone else, he genuinely began enjoying your company. And vice versa. When he wasn't being the overbearing and unreasonable boss that he can be, you actually found yourself having fun in Alastor's presence, now often chuckling at his jokes and schemes.

But that wasn't the only thing that changed.

Alastor came to a stark realisation that he had developed feelings for you. It was a foreign feeling to him, which initially confused him at first but it filled him with such warmth that his cold-heart craved for. He found himself seeking your presence constantly (more than usual, that is), always making an effort to talk to you (again, more than usual), and at times, forcing you to stay in his office while he worked on his scripts, and even have you sit through his broadcasts. Even if it wasn't obvious, Alastor's feelings were overwhelming him with each passing day – he didn't know how to go about it.

So Alastor resorted to what he does with most things – in straight-forward and curt fashion, of course.

"S-Sir, you...y-you want me to do what?" You stuttered, a rapid and violent blush suddenly taking over your face. "I said, I want you to go out with me!" Alastor repeated nonchalantly, all the while jokingly tapping a finger on his microphone, "hello, hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing!" You couldn't help but gawk at the deer-demon and his bluntness. He had summoned you to his office out-of-the-blue, requesting your presence urgently in the midst of an activity session you were co-hosting with Vaggie. With the way he went about it, you would've thought that there was some sort of emergency. Not...well, not this.

"...Go out with you? Like...on a walk, or something?" You slowly reiterated, trying to get a grasp on what he was trying to say. Alastor hums to himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Well, if that's what you prefer to do on our date, then I suppose that would be quite swell! We can fit that right in once we've had our dinner," He nods after a brief moment’s contemplation. It nearly sent your eyes popping out of its sockets. "Woah, woah! A-A date?! You mean, a date?! With–with me?!" You exclaimed, pointing to yourself in disbelief. The Overlord rose a brow.

"Why, of course! You're the only one in the room that I'm currently talking to, dear! Oh, hoh, you're quite silly, aren't you?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "B-But...don't you think this is like–I don't know, a bit unprofessional, sir?" You timidly ask, picking at your fingers, "you are my boss, after all..."

Alastor tilted his head to the side, humming, "Hm, perhaps. But I believe we’ve already crossed that boundary long ago, don’t you think? We’ve treated each other like good, ol’ comrades rather than just co-workers these past few months, have we not?” You blink. “I…I guess we have,” you blankly affirm.

“Right? So, with that being said, I can't help but want something more. I do wish to properly court you. After all, it's not everyday a mortal soul such as yourself could pique my interest. That means to say that you’re quite exceptional, dear!” You couldn’t help but nervously chuckle at the flattery, shaking your head, “w-well, I don’t know about that–”

“Oh, none of that nonsense!” He suddenly swoops in, waving a hand and shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve met anyone who has managed to keep up at my level the way you have. It’s very impressive and admirable – take my word for it!”

Alastor then suddenly evades your personal space, leaning down to eye-to-eye level with you. It startles you momentarily but you decidedly maintain eye-contact with him, too nervous to look away. It causes his grin to widen. "And I can bravely assume that you wouldn't mind taking up my offer...as you haven't yet made any effort or comment to decline it, hm?" He smartly comments, looking at you expectedly.

Well..damn, he got you there, didn’t he? Because in truth, you did enjoy the playful dynamic you've established with him. You found satisfaction in the little praises and smiles Alastor would send your way whenever you accomplished something and slowly, you found yourself valuing his opinion of you. You then tried to up yourself with each passing day, and it was just as shocking for you when you came to terms with your own feelings.

And that’s how you found yourself being courted by the Radio-Demon himself.

After that, nothing much had changed in your dynamic with Alastor – you still continued being his radio-assistant. Well, other than the fact that he had become more openly sweet towards you. This meant calling you a variety of pet-names and giving you a little less work for you when he knows you’ve worked yourself hard enough. Small pecks and kisses will be rewarded when you would hand him his cup of coffee every morning, and he would invite you to join and sit on his lap when he would do his frequent broadcasts. He would also teasingly ask you to call him ‘sir’, knowing that it’ll fluster you so much – he just loved and enjoyed seeing you turn red all over. He even stopped with his hieroglyphics, reverting back to his usual handwriting when writing his scripts – the joke’s gone a bit stale, he says. And at the end of a long, tiring day, Alastor would have you in his arms as you happily basked in each other’s company.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel

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galactic-magick · 5 months ago

Text

Life Changes: Viktor x Reader

Part 3 of my Viktor story, find Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Summary: Viktor confides in you about his meeting with Jayce, and he contemplates his future with you a lot more seriously.

Words: 1.2k

Author's Notes: This part was a little harder to write for some reason now that the story is directly coinciding with the canon, but hope y'all still enjoy. This AU means a lot to me and I appreciate every single one of my readers :)

“It’s intriguing, isn’t it?” Viktor asks, eyes bright from discussing the events of the day with you. “I mean, what if it really is possible?”

Viktor got reacquainted with a fellow Academy student today, a man named Jayce Talis who was caught doing illegal research. Viktor has spent the last hour explaining the whole situation to you—how Jayce was attempting to create magic with science—but the equipment was so dangerous it blew up the lab. Jayce’s trial with the council resulted in him being expelled and banished from Academy grounds, and Heimerdinger believes it best to destroy everything.

Viktor was able to snag Jayce’s notes and journals, furiously reading through them and sharing his findings with you. You’re certainly not as science-brained as he is, but you’ve been with him long enough that you can somewhat follow his train of thought.

“I wish I…” he trails off, flipping back and forth on a particular page.

“What?” you ask, scooching closer to him to see what he’s reading.

“I wish I could help him.”

You shrug, “Who says you can’t?”

“He’s banished from the Academy, remember?”

“So? You’re Heimerdinger’s assistant. If anyone can sneak him in, it’s you. Don’t you have access to everything?”

“I do—but darling—I could lose my job if I’m caught. I can’t afford that, especially not if we want to-”

“Viktor,” you cut him off, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. He’s made it very clear he wants a future with you, saying he wants to marry you and move in together as soon as you’re both more stable in your careers. You’ve told him time and time again you don’t mind waiting, and you wouldn’t mind just a simple wedding, but his ambition often gets the best of him. He’s always insisted on giving you the best, never satisfied with what his current position can provide you. He’s been the Dean’s assistant for a few years now, and you can see how it frustrates him at times that he hasn’t been able to work on his own studies and aspirations. Viktor is a scientist, a brilliant one at that, and his life is lived entirely in someone else’s shadow. He respects Heimerdinger greatly, just as everyone does in this city, but the Professor is set deep in his ways and rarely takes risks. The amount of times Viktor’s had to hold his tongue around him is insurmountable, and their conflicting opinions on Jayce’s Hextech seems to be the last straw.

You take his hand, “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it, okay?”

He nods, “You’re right.”

You kiss his cheek and smile, “Now go find him.”

You don’t see or hear from Viktor the next couple days. You desperately hope he hasn’t gotten caught, and he’s able to get what Jayce needs without much trouble.

Both your hopes and worries are confirmed when you see glowing blue light coming from the Academy building, and a commotion of enforcers chasing towards it. You loosely follow them, managing to sneak in.

You wonder if it was the wrong decision, to encourage him to pursue this. What if he got arrested? What if he got banished as well? You know how much his dreams mean to him, how hard he worked to get where he is now. You couldn’t live with yourself if he lost all his opportunities to be a real scientist.

The worst part is—you know Viktor would never blame you or resent you for anything. He would move on and keep going out of stubbornness, as he always does. He’s too strong willed to truly let anyone ruin him completely. He would continue to believe in himself, finding the next best thing for him to succeed in. But you would know. You would forever live with the idea of what could’ve been.

You need this to work out for him.

The ruckus finally stops, and you peek out of your hiding spot down the hall. You see several council members come out of the lab, closely followed by Jayce and Viktor.

“We stabilized it!” Viktor exclaims, seeing you waiting for him. He stumbles over to you, his cane broken in his grip. He drops it to the ground and grabs your face, kissing you in excitement, hardly able to contain himself.

You run your hands down his body, terrified you’ll find any wounds, “Are you okay? I thought there was another explosion-”

“I’m fine, we’re all fine,” he assures you. “The council is going to reconsider their decision. Jayce wants me to be his partner in the Hextech company if it gets approved. My life is about to change, our lives are about to change…”

“Viktor, this is amazing.” you share in his joy. “I can’t wait to see what you do.”

Jayce approaches the two of you, placing a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

“You must be Y/N. I’ve heard quite a bit about you the past couple days,” he moves his hand out in front of him. “I’m Jayce.”

You shake it with a smile, “I’ve heard a lot about you too. Try not to kill my boyfriend with all this Hextech stuff, yeah?”

Jayce laughs, “Don’t worry, the first thing we’re going to work on is safety. I’ll meet up with you tomorrow, alright, Vik?”

Viktor nods in response, watching as Jayce walks away. He then turns his attention back to you, his eyes softening.

“Are you ready for this, darling?” he asks.

“I...don’t know,” you say, truthfully. “A lot of things are going to change, but it’ll be good change, right?”

He breaks your gaze, his mind firing at a million miles a minute. The adrenaline rush is finally clearing enough for the reality of it all to set in, and honestly he should be asking the same question to himself. He has grown used to his simple life as the Dean’s assistant, slowly building a relationship with you and focusing his aspirations on a future with you more than his career. He would’ve been happy to just have you, but now he can have both.

All he knows for sure right now is that he wants you by his side no matter what. He’s tired of waiting to make you his—tired of not coming home to you and waking up next to you every day. If his life is really going to flip upside down, he needs you there with him.

“Vik?” you turn his face back to you and giggle. “Zoning out on me?”

He kisses your palm, eyes locked back on yours, “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he says. “And how badly I want to marry you right now.”

“Right now?” you chuckle, unsure how literal he meant that.

“Mmm mm,” he shakes his head, brushing a hair out of your face. “Tomorrow. I at least want time to make everything special for you. But I can’t wait any longer than that. I refuse to move on to this next phase of my life without being married to you.”

You lips quiver into a smile, joyful tears filing your eyes.

“Oh, Viktor…”

He kisses you desperately, cradling your head in his lanky hands, “Please say yes, sweetheart.”

“Of course the answer’s yes, silly.”

More Author's Notes: Next part will be the wedding and some sloppy freshly married smut heehee

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane

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taekooktimeline · 1 month ago

Text

Hello 👋🏽

As always, if there’s anything I could’ve written better, please let me know. I won’t move these pieces to their respective spots in the 2024/2025 chapters for a few days to give people time to review and provide feedback. I’m super busy this week so please be patient if it takes me time to respond (I’m working 40 hours, applying at colleges and volunteering at the hospital for 12 hours).

I’m always in my head about my posts, hoping I’ve worded everything the best they can be worded, but I’m especially anxious for these posts. My head is not with social media at all. Usually, I will throw pieces together as news comes out and clean them up at a later date. With these new posts, I had to go back and remember what happened because I didn’t leave any notes with pictures and links.

Long story short, and not to get dark or political, but just to clarify why I’m inactive and my headspace isn’t great: not only am I still trying to figure out my medical mysteries a year later, I’m now dealing with my country completely collapsing into chaos and garbage, something I never thought I’d say since I’m in a Western (and what I thought was decently progressive) country. I had fears this would happen but it’s so much worse than I thought. Apparently, we’re going to let illegal and unconstitutional things happen and not use checks and balances. I’m embarrassed, angry and ashamed at the state of things. There’s a lot of real, daily stressors that I’m dealing with because I’m in a targeted group, which has led to some hard and fast decisions to apply for another college degree and pursue fallback options as my “just in case” plan B. I had planned to pursue Japanese college courses for fun and now that’s either on the back burner or going to be juggled with part time school around full time work. I’m conflicted on what to do and next steps with a lot of things. My family refuses to immigrate. I’m spending a lot of days tense, crying, stressed, and wondering what I should do. I’ve worked really hard to get to a good place in my life and the threat of it being taken away is very real. It sucks and it’s sad. I’ve been mourning about it all and bracing for worst case to happen. Things that seemed right and safe no longer feel that way. It’s hard to focus on social media and leisure activities when I’m battling constant, in real issues that must take precedence.

Also, this post isn’t meant to stir up political arguments so just know if you agree with what’s happening, I’m not going to respond. We can mutually block each other and move on. I’ve cut off family and friends who let this happen so I have no problem doing it with SM friends too. This post is meant to explain in more depth why I’m not active on SM, why I’d appreciate being left alone (not tagged in drama, which is never appreciated anyway), and why I’d really be grateful for feedback on these newer posts.

I’ll still update the timeline. I’m very much excited for Taekook to come back, I’ll always cheer them on and support them in all the ways I can. But I’m not going to be active on TW and IG for the foreseeable future. I’ve got one baby splice / video / edit thing (I’m not sure what to call it) that I’ve sat on for months so maybe I’ll find energy to post that soon as a just because, but otherwise, my accounts will stay locked up and inactive besides updating the timeline.

Take care, wishing you the best, thank you for reading 💜💚

#taekooktimeline #taekook #asks #discussions

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our-queer-experience · 3 months ago

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Uh so my new-ish instrumental music teacher had one of those "subtle queer flag phone background" type shit you find on pinterest and?!!! I completely freaked out when I saw it. Saw it multiple times and yes, it is yhe queer rainbow flag + trans flag colors

I live in a very anti-queer country(it's not illegal to transition, but very hard) so, just- maybe I'm reading into this too much, but seeing an older, potentially queer person just makes me giddy

The thought that someone survived. Someone like me, someone managed to live, and thrive, in the same country is so, so, so hopeful to me in a way many things haven't been lately

Idk if this counts as queer positivity but I needed to get that off my chest

thats amazing!!!

#our queer experience #asks #lgbtq #queer positivity #queer joy

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nottivagos · 4 months ago

Note

i also miss stalker!carlos :( maybe mafia!carlos but not as much as stalker!carlos. he has me in a chokehold.... (could he PLEASE) imagine him just being so attentive to your schedule, always appearing when things get so stressful and he just knows what to do... what if she falls asleep with her head on his lap, and it's just the most beautiful view he's had? so angelic, so perfect, and it just fuels his need to keep her his and trap her. idk I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY

ITS THAT TIME AGAIN BABY! Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Saturday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

tw: themes of stalking, mentions of kidnapping & overall very immoral and illegal behaviours.

an: oh nonnie... are you trying to kill me? I'M GOING INSANE YOU READ MY MIND. let's keep this a secret between you and me but your ask has established the prequel to the main stalker!carlos fic i'm working on <3

It’s weird how he was always there when you needed him the most.

It was as if Carlos Sainz was a ghost looming over your every move, following your every footstep two feet behind so you wouldn’t suspect anything, hidden by the distance between you both. A cold entity crawling up your skin, one that seemed to know more about yourself than even yourself knew, the fear making your blood run cold, but the underlying thrill made a rush of heat pool to your insides.

Isolation leads to helplessness, turning to the first person who shows you kindness in some way, unable to read the lines between their good morals. Drunk on the dopamine, latching onto the warm and homely high, the feeling that someone cared about you, is enough to make anyone swoon. It's typical human nature.

Carlos had seen you through most stages of life since you’d moved into the neighbourhood. The highs of when you got that promotion at work after months of hard work and trying to impress your unimpressed boss, to the lows of another failed relationship with a jerk who couldn’t even turn up to the second date, he was always there. It was eerie to think about, scary that you hadn't even thought for a moment that he was a chronic stalker, like a wolf ready for the kill, hunting for the most innocent lamb it could sink it's sharp molars into.

The sadness you felt made his insides boil with rage. How dare someone stand you up? How could anyone not appreciate a pretty little thing like you? He could’ve hit the asshole in that moment, telling him to “never talk to his girl ever again”, but instead he took you inside with open arms, silently gritting his annoyance at your situation, before hushing and cooing soft murmurs into your ear to stop the overflowing tears from shedding onto his new hoodie and ruining your makeup in the process.

If only he could have you all to himself, he thought. Only if there was some way to just scoop you up off of your feet one day, make you abandon your dreary life just so you could be with him. He’d find you a pretty little cottage somewhere, like he'd observed you saying, secluded from the horrible world you both lived, and you wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. You’d just have be his pretty little girlfriend, maybe even his wife later on, smitten and completely enamoured whilst he did all the work.

Today wasn’t any different. Carlos observed the way your shoulders were hunched as you exited your car parked in the driveway, the way your eyes looked sunken and tired, the fatigue radiating off your body as you sluggishly walked into your house. He could sense your stress from his own home, the way the knots were probably stiffening in your shoulder blades, the fact that your eyes were probably begging to cry tears from the overwhelming pressure bubbling inside of you— it was too much for you to comprehend, and he knew your ways of coping all too well.

Beautifully manicured nails hovered in front of your mouth, just begging to be bit into to alleviate the pressure of the day you’d had that you were feeling. As your teeth started to come down on your thumb, your motion was stopped by the abrupt ringing of the doorbell. Sliding off the couch with a raised eyebrow, you opened the door to Carlos, holding a small shopping bag with a friendly smile.

“I brought some bath salts and some chocolate that were lying around in my cupboards. I thought you might appreciate them a little more than I would,” he explained with that thick accent that made your insides flutter, inviting himself inside your house with ease. Your heart melted at the action, fluttering as his large hand came to press on the small of your back, his doe brown eyes soft as you made eye contact with him.

The bath was euphoric and overall a success on both parts. Carlos’s hands knead against your knotted muscles with ease, as he let you ramble on about everything that was stressing you out. It was beautiful, you felt validated for once in your life, a feeling that made you feel giddy like a little child. He was charismatic and a gentleman to you, murmuring about how you “shouldn’t have gone through that” or that “a girl like you shouldn’t feel this stressed, let alone upset”, the softness of his voice making your brain fuzzy on the dopamine.

By the time you were all cozy in your loungewear, you’d snuggled with Carlos on the sofa, basking in each other’s presence, hand idly stroking your hair whilst you nested into his lap. The TV softly hummed in the background, but you both didn’t pay much attention to it. The stillness and the tranquility of the evening made you even more drowsy than you were originally, and you could feel yourself slowly dozing off as you let your fatigue win. When you’d become unresponsive to your intimate small talk, Carlos looked down at you with curiosity, wondering why you’d gone silent all of a sudden.

“Cariño, did you fall asleep?” he asked with a soft chuckle, brushing some hair out of your face to reveal your closed eyes. Your soft breaths filled the room as Carlos relaxed on your couch, resting against the plush cushions. He let out a content sigh, doe eyes fixated on your snoozing form, softly snoring whilst curled up by his side like a sleeping animal.

Calloused fingertips continued to soothingly comb through your damp hair, as he let his mind wander. The sight below him was angelic. A beautiful sight he wanted to remember forever, too pure to even disturb in the slightest of ways. In his eyes, it fuelled his desire to keep you as his own more. The way you looked, the trust you’d put into him over the past few months, he knew soon enough he’d be able to finally put his claws into you forever and you’d not even bat an eyelid.

“Soon enough you’ll be mine, princesa,” he mumbled, brushing some hair behind your ear ever so gently. “Soon enough you’ll be safe, away from all this stress that’s tying you down. With me, forever.”

And after that, he let the boldness of his statement and overall desire linger around the four walls that were about to trap you in a hell disguised by his own designed domesticated haven.

nonnie, i just want to say thank you for actually requesting this. you're my first nonnie and i'm SO HONOURED that you requested something! the past few days have been such a rollercoaster for me with divorced mechanic!danny so thank you for appreciating my silly little thoughts, it means so much to me. - notti <3

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stargazedwinchester · 8 months ago

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Casual | Dean

love a bit of chappell don’t we guys xox

i rlly enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy reading it!! this is very much inspired by the song, but not necessarily a songfic :)

CW: mentions of s*x, nothing too provocative

Summary: You and Dean are casual friends with benefits until you uncover the truth about how you actually feel toward him.

Word count: 1,133

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.��

“I, uh, think I should get you home,” Dean says. The silence is palpable. You feel awkward and like you don’t belong, so you let out a defeated sigh. He’s shirtless, his slight 6-pack glistening with sweat as he attempts to dry himself off with a towel. You felt as if you couldn’t catch your breath, whether it was just from the insane sex you had just endeavoured or Dean’s pitiless words that filled your lungs with regret.

“Okay.” You give up. Each time you attempt to feel a connection with him — a real, deep connection, it’s like he wipes it from his memory as soon as you’re both finished and goes back to reality. Post-nut clarity, if you will.

It’s not like he doesn’t find you attractive. Hell no. It’s his intense lack of commitment issues and mommy/daddy issues that give him such a hard time completely dedicating himself to someone. The hundreds of arguments you had gotten into over the people he had slept with whilst also sleeping with you just gave you second-hand embarrassment. In fact, it was downright wrong it should’ve been illegal.

You manage to tumble out of bed butt-naked, slowly getting your clothes back on ready for the silent drive home. You almost gape in awe at Dean’s silhouette. Heavy feelings weigh down on your heart for someone who doesn’t even think of you in any other way other than for intimacy is so challenging, especially on your own self-worth.

Dean doesn’t say a word to you. He sits back down on the bed and starts typing on his phone. He’s wearing a light grey t-shirt and charcoal grey jeans. The small screen lights up his face and a slight grin slowly appears and your heart sinks. Without even looking, you already know he’s talking to some other bitch, in which he’s probably going to go pick her up after he’s dropped you off at home.

“You ready?” You ask him, breaking the one-way tension in the room. “Yeah,” He says, standing up and leading you out toward the car.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

On the drive home, it’s dark and rainy. The streetlights emit a dim, dusty champagne colour, yet the awkward tension isn’t anything worth celebrating.

“What’re you doing after this?” He asks, not breaking focus from the road. “Probably just go straight to bed,” you reply, shrugging lightly. “What about you?”

“I’m going to go visit a friend of mine,” He coughs, then purses his lips. “She lives about half an hour thataway.” He motions his pointer finger toward the left.

She.

The anger builds up inside of you. After all this time, you had thought that he wasn’t seeing anybody else, that you had only mindfully agreed that this thing stays between the pair of you, and this included sleeping around. What a fucking tool.

“Listen, it’s nice and all that you’re giving me a lift home, but you’re really taking the cake by pretending like you’re not seeing other people.” You lock eyes with him, and his expression changes.

“What, so you’re jealous now? Is that it?” He scoffs, and you freeze up. “So what if I am? We had an agreement that we weren’t gonna sleep with anyone else! We said that!” You start to raise your voice, frustration running right through your blood as it starts to boil.

“I’ve mentioned it to you multiple times before. I don’t understand why you can’t listen to me! It’s fucking gross, Dean! You need a huge reality check because this isn’t gonna last forever.” You wave your finger between yourself and Dean, indicating that whatever it is that you both have going on is at its final straw. He scoffs again, shaking his head. It’s almost like he wants to say something, but bites his tongue. He presses his foot on the pedal, coming to a stop. It’s that sudden you hit your head on the headrest.

“Y/N-“

“I don’t want to hear it. Take me home.”

“Lis-“

“Fucking take me home, Dean. I mean it.”

For the rest of the drive, you’re in silence. Nothing on the radio, no cassette tape playing, not even the windows open to hear the sound of the rain pattering on the windscreen.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

He parks the Impala outside of your house, and since the quietness has given you a second to rethink the whole situation.

“Dean,” you start, and his big, puppy-dog eyes glare at you with regret. “What’s up?” He asks and this time it sounds like it was with genuine concern.

“I have to tell you something before I go.” You state, and he nods, listening.

“The reason why I was jealous is that I’m in love with you, Dean. It’s hard seeing you go away and spend time with all these different people and I just get a fraction of you. It’s unfair that I’ve spent the last year or so falling in love with you and you see me as nothing more than someone to play with.” You pause, then take a deep breath.

“You don’t need to say anything else because I’m done. It’s friends or nothing. If I hear nothing from you within the next 3 days, then I’ll know where your priorities lie.”

You start to collect your bags together and open the passenger door. He’s left stunned, his eyebrows raised, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes showing enough sadness to make you want to apologise for going off at him and then travelling back to the motel for round 2.

You can tell that the cogs are turning in his head, thinking of what to say that would completely win you over. But there’s absolutely nothing that he could do or say that could make you turn back around. You shut the door, but the window is still open.

“Y/N, hold up a sec,” He yells through the window while you’re almost halfway up the path. You turn around and lock eyes with him.

“Please come back, let’s talk about this.” He leans over to the passenger seat, his gorgeous forest green eyes staring up at you.

“3 days, Dean. Prove that you’re not an asshole and I’ll think about it.” You say one last time before turning back around to the front of your house. The last thing you want is Dean never wanting to see you again.

You enter the entryway to your home and make your way up the stairs. Opening up your bedroom door, you take a moment to collect yourself, instead of thinking God, what have I done? You sit proud that you have stood up for yourself against someone who has clearly used you for nothing more than his own selfishness. And if that is the case, well... so be it.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural imagines #spn imagines #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester #sam winchester imagines #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you

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mixiury · 1 year ago

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Always remembering you - Genshin x GN reader

Characters: Wanderer, Itto, Kaveh, Neuvillette

Summary: You have to leave for a long period of time. What do they do after it? (Basically them missing you)

A/N: I am alive!! Sorry for not posting in a while. Honestly I haven't been very motivated to write but I randomly got this idea so I hope yall like it! (I edited some parts and typos I noticed so hopefully now it is better :)

Wanderer has no need for things as transitory and insignificant as the attention of others— specially if it comes from an human being— so what makes you believe that you would be an exception?

It's been decades since he last sought companionship after all. The only reason why he asked you to accompany him is to complete the tasks Nahida assigned him. It is just easier for you to do all the hard work instead of him. Don't try to read between the lines.

Yes. Of course it was necessary to stop in the middle of Sumeru's forest to contemplate the surroundings for the past hour. It is part of his job to ensure that there are no potential dangers near the city.

Actually, the fact that the path you were taking was blocked by a tree that mysteriously collapsed in front of you due to a strong blown of wind has nothing to do with him. Why would you think he did that in the first place? You're imagining things.

The only reason he's holding your hand right now is so you don't get lost or delay him by this absurdly long new path he's chosen. Yes, it's clearly the only option you two have, so don't complain and keep walking.

But if you need a moment to rest he won't refuse. And if at any point you decide to lean your head on his shoulder, he won't push you away either. Just don't get used to this, he only allows it because he knows how fragile human bodies are and he prefers to avoid Nahida's scolding for leaving you in the middle of nowhere.

And if you still have doubts, that's right, the fact that all these things happen after not being able to talk to you all week is totally a coincidence.

Itto, on the other hand, doesn't seem to know the word discretion.

What do you mean you have another important commission to do? But didn't you just finished one yesterday? How about you join him in a beetle tournament instead? Or maybe you can spend time with the gang? Come on, he knows you can't refuse this unique opportunity!

Hmm? That you always spend time with them..? But this time is different! This time they will do something so different and so incredible that you just can't loose! Trust him. Arataki Itto always keep his word!

And it is just that it seems like the entire universe is sending you signals to spend time with him. From Itto posters that mysteriously appear on paper airplanes to his name in the alphabet soup you eat.

But if all that is not enough to convince you that it is the destiny the one putting you together, somehow you both end up meeting multiple times a day. No matter where you look, he will be there.

Do you have to collect different flowers from Inazuma for your commission? It turns out that floristry is one of his hidden talents! Do you have to give them to someone? How curious! He was just talking to that same person! Are you saying he is brothering them? Of course not! He would never do that... On purpose.

There's no point in questioning him, somehow he always has an excuse- (although it doesn't mean they make sense). It's only until you look up at the sky and see fireworks with Itto's face, his signature, and the words "I miss you" that he finally tells you the truth behind all the coincidences that has happened during the day.

However, the moment does not last long, because shortly afterwards different guards come running to capture Itto for alleged harassment and "illegal use" of fireworks without authorization. Complete defamation if you ask him.

At the end, you and Kuki have to visit him in jail and take care of all the paperwork for the damage him and the gang caused. But hey, at least that means his plan worked?

Kaveh directly doesn't seems able to function properly.

Don't get him wrong, he knows better than anyone how hard it must be for you to be so busy. After all, he has found himself in the same situation as you multiple times in the past.

It's just that he had never noticed the influence you have on his life until that moment, where instead of having breakfast together at the same place as always he finds himself eating preheated noodles from the microwave.

For the first time in a long time he's having trouble concentrating on his work, unable to finish the commission he's been putting off for the last week— not so surprisingly— the same amount of time since you traveled to Fontaine.

Because every time he looks at the paper on the desk he can't stop his hand from drawing sketches of you, his mind clouded with questions about your safety and how you are doing.

Kaveh doesn't really know how to control that feeling so he does the only thing he knows in situations like this; Overwork himself. Going from basically doing nothing all week to creating almost a month's worth of work in a few days.

Of course, it doesn't take much for his friends to notice, trying to reason with him more than once. However, if there is something to recognize from Kaveh it is his stubbornness, reassuring them that everything is completely under control.

It's only until he ends up falling asleep during a conversation with Tighnari that he decides to take action into his own hands, sending you a letter telling you about the situation because your boyfriend can barely stay awake during the day and has been living of coffee.

And despite his reproaches towards Tighnari, he can't help but feel glad the moment you return to Sumeru a few days earlier than anticipated, updating you on every little detail that happened while you were gone and sleeping for almost a full day no long after. He may thank Tighnari later.

Unlike the others, Neuvillette feels totally fine after you left.

Of course he notice your absence and perhaps your name has appeared in his mind more than three times in the day but that's all. There is no need to worry about it, Take all the time you need.

He continues with his routine as always. He is also a very busy person so he doesn't think a lot of it. He's just walking around in the same place where you met because he's taking a short break. Nothing more than that.

In fact, you might even be able to see him ordering at the same coffee shop where you had your first date, sitting at the same table he sat at back then. But that isn't related to this situation, so please continue what you are doing.

But if you notice how Fontaine has fallen into heavy rain this last month, he will just reassure you that it's completely normal. Probably is just the weather that hasn't been stable lately. Nothing to worry about. Everything is under control as it always has been.

Yet, even if he manages to fool himself, all the melusines notice the way his gaze wanders from the documents on his desk to the empty seat next to him. His eyes shining every moment he hears the door of his office open just to met with the disappointment in them when he realizes it's not you on the other side.

Because despite his attempts to distract himself, it's simply impossible when every place he goes has some memory of you. He knows you won't be away for long so why does he feel like something is missing when you're not around?

Melusines try to talk with him, even requesting help to Furina, but it doesn't seems to be an end of the countless rains that has been occurring since you left.

He will just continue denying his feelings over and over, completely oblivious of them and the attempts of others to cheer him up.

It's hard for Neuvillette to understand the reason for his the emptiness he feels, but when he sees you once again he can't help but notice the great sense of relief that comes with you, immediately asking you how you are doing and making sure you feel welcome.

Maybe with the pass of the time he will be able to come in terms with his feelings but for now all he wants to do is to spend more time with you.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #itto x reader #kaveh x reader #neuvillette x reader #not proofread #Sorry xD #Genshin Impact #genshin impact x you #genshin x you

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captainsophiestark · 6 months ago

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The Details

Jack Thompson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by anon! Hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Marvel

Day Twenty Prompt: "I saw your eyes light up."

Summary: SSR agents are supposed to notice the details, something Jack Thompson never seems to do for anyone other than himself. Or does he?

Word Count: 1,763

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I squinted, the words on the page blurring as I let my face drop slowly closer to it. Maybe if I just rested my head on the documents for a while, the secrets hiding between the lines would seep into my head and I could be done with this damn investigation...

"Hey!"

My head snapped up at a loud voice and fingers snapping a few inches away from me. Apparently, I'd drifted off without even realizing it, head down on the desk. Unfortunately, however long I'd managed to pass out, it hadn't been enough for any new breakthroughs to magically materialize in my head.

I sighed and flopped backwards in my chair, glaring at the man who'd woken me up. Chief Jack Thompson, recently returned to the side of the good guys while we were on limited assignment in LA. He'd joined Peggy, Daniel, and I in working day and night on tracking down the remaining members of the Arena Club and any conspiracies they might still be attached to, and it had been far from easy even before Jack showed up.

Technically, he'd been helpful and contributing to the case. He was the Chief of the New York SSR, after all. But his ego and his attitude continued to get in our way, even if it was marginally better than it had been.

I almost snorted at the memory of the crush I'd had on him when I'd first joined the SSR. I couldn't say I'd completely gotten over it, but from the first time he opened his mouth to spew some self-important horseshit, it had at least gotten smaller and more manageable.

"Tell me you've got coffee," I said to Jack as I crossed my arms. He huffed.

"No, but Rose and Samberly are on their way back with a round for all of us. You doing okay over here?"

"Fine," I sighed, running a hand over my face. I expected Jack to just nod and move on, but when I looked up again, I found him still standing right in front of me. "You need something, Jack?"

"No. But I think you might." I just raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. "You just passed out so hard that I heard the sound of your head hitting the desk from across the room. I think you might need sleep, not coffee."

"I think we all need sleep and not coffee. But that's not an option right now."

Jack frowned, and for the first time I could remember, I caught him hesitating. Like he was unsure of himself. After a moment, though, he just huffed and turned away. I rolled my eyes and turned back to the papers all over my desk.

I managed to settle back into a rythm of reading reports and taking notes, and although my brain kept trying to force me to sleep again, I managed to fight it off. When Rose and Samberly came back into the bullpen with coffees in-hand, I could've kissed them both.

"Alright, coffees for everybody," said Samberly, he and Rose handing out the cups to each of us. I didn't even let him set mine on the desk, instead taking it right out of his hands. I was on my absolute last legs, and this coffee was the only thing that was gonna be able to get me through.

I'd just brought the cup to my lips when Jack came storming out of his office and actually snatched the thing out of my hands. I whirled on him and shot out of my chair, and I swear, I was moments away from punching out the Chief of the SSR.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded. Jack ignored me, instead looking at Samberly with a frown.

"She can't have this." Then, at last meeting my glare, "You can't have this."

"Take your nap shit and take a hike, Thompson. I can take care of myself-"

"This has nothing to do with you needing a nap. This is from the coffee shop down the street, I went when I first got into town. They make their coffee with a bunch of fancy shit for flavoring, including almonds."

My mouth dropped open. I was super allergic to almonds, and it would not have been good if I'd had that coffee. But how the hell did Jack know that about me?

"I am so sorry," Rose said, coming over to me as Samberly nodded next to her. "We had no idea. They didn't say anything about it."

"It's okay, Rose, don't worry about it. Like you said, you didn't know. I... Thanks for catching that, Jack."

He nodded, carefully setting my coffee on Daniel's desk instead. As he did, I caught him and Peggy staring between the two of us with wild grins on their faces for god knows what reason. I narrowed my eyes at both of them.

"I'm glad I came out here when I did, but it was for more than just a coffee save," Jack said, straightening to look at me again. "I need a word with you in my office."

"My office," Daniel broke in. Jack just rolled his eyes.

"The Chief's office. So, you mind?"

He gestured towards the office, and I nodded before following him. I was still reeling a little from his save with the coffee, but any lasting impressed surprise disappeared when I saw a cot laid out in the middle of Daniel's office, set up with blankets and a pillow.

I turned back to Jack with my hands on my hips as he shut the door to the office. When he turned back to me, I raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a look.

"Not that I'm not grateful for the save with the coffee, but are you kidding me with this right now?"

"Just hear me out," Jack said, holding up his hands as a gesture of peace. I sighed, but waited for Jack to say wahtever it was he wanted to say. "This isn't just for you. I talked to Sousa and Carter, and they agreed that all of us are losing our edge from sleep depravation. We're gonna start taking turns crashing for a few hours, and all three of us agreed you need to go first since you've had a thousand yard stare going since lunch, so don't try to fight it."

I huffed, once again shocked into just staring. After a moment without argument from me, Jack stepped forward and gently took my arm, guiding me backwards toward the cot.

"C'mon. Sooner you get some rest, sooner the rest of us get to."

I sat down, still a bit out of it as I stared at Jack. He huffed a laugh and turned back to Sousa's desk, snatching something off of it and handing it to me. All I could do was blink at the cover a few times as I took it in.

The Hobbit. Jack had just given me a copy of my favorite book.

"In case you want something to read before you knock out for your nap."

Slowly, I turned my stunned blinking from the book in my hands to Jack. He had that nervous look on his face again that I'd seen earlier.

"Jack... why do you have this? I didn't think you were into the Hobbit."

He cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck, looking away from me. Still, I could see a blush rising to his neck and cheeks. My confusion grew.

"You talked it up so much, I figured I should give it a chance. I'm not very far in, since we've all been a little busy, but-"

"Hold on." I put up a hand to stop Jack short. "I talked about this book at the office one time. It wasn't even specifically in conversation with you. You remember that?"

Jack let out a little huff, looking everywhere in the office but at me before his gaze finally found mine again. He shrugged.

"I saw your eyes light up. Watching you so animated, talking about something you love... yeah, it was pretty memorable."

I stared at Jack, my mouth dropping open slightly in shock. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but I couldn't get my mind in gear enough to figure out why or to put him at ease. I'd spent a long time irritated with Jack, largely because he didn't seem to pay attention to anyone other than himself. That assumption had been blow to smithereens in the last ten minutes, more than once.

"Jack... that's actually really sweet. Thank you."

He nodded, clearing his throat and apparently trying to shake it off.

"Don't mention it. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," I said. I wasn't totally sure where the words had come from (sleep depravation was probably a good bet), but I knew they were true, and that I wanted to say them to Jack. "It's a big deal that you remembered this stuff. Hell, I would've been in serious trouble if I'd had a sip of that coffee, and out of everyone at the office, you're the only one who caught the problem. It's really sweet of you. It... means a lot to me."

Jack's face was bright red by the time I was done, but I could see him fighting a smile.

"Well... I'm glad. Maybe... after we both get some rest, and we deal with this whole Arena Club disaster... you'd let me take you to dinner?"

I grinned, huffing a slightly disbelieving laugh as my heart raced. I nodded to Jack.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like that."

I could see the stress drain out of Jack's body, his shoulders dropping from his ears as he relaxed and smiled at me.

"Okay. Great. Welll... good, then."

"Yeah. Good."

The two of us shared a dopey smile, clearly both a little loopy from lack of sleep. I slowly laid back on the bed, holding the Hobbit close to my chest as Jack headed for the door of the room.

"Sleep well, sweetheart. I'll go find some coffee you can have in the meantime."

I absolutely beamed at Jack as he flipped off the lights and returned to the bullpen, shutting the door behind him. The smile stayed on my face as I laid back, staring at the dark office ceiling. Jack still had his moments, but... all of a sudden, there was a massive potential light in the tunnel for my crush where there very much hadn't been one before. Among quite a few reasons I couldn't wait to wrap up this case, dinner with Jack Thompson had suddenly jumped to the top of the list.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

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tigerarainbowra-blog · 2 months ago

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WALUIGI HEADCANONS!!

My brain is FULL with Waluigi thoughts and I NEED to express them and I want PEOPLE to read about them so I thought I might just make a long ass post expressing all my thoughts so long post incoming!! Also DISCLAIMERS: I might sometimes write in a format that presents those points as if they were fun facts, but THEY ARE NOT FACTS!! Just things I like to imagine about the character, and may or may not be based on ideas in canon. Also these thoughts might be a bit disorganised but I hope it's still easy to read! ANYWAYS!!

I like to think Waluigi is not from the Mushroom Kingdom, but instead comes from faraway, and I like to think it's Sarasaland because I picked some details where he and Daisy are somewhat similar in some aspects (they both have something to do with plants/flowers, they both had this odd thing where their skin tone varied as time goes on, and they both were used as characters to complement other established characters, with Daisy being reintroduced in golf to be Luigi's caddie and Waluigi being made to be Wario's tennis partner). Yeah I know those are very loose and don't prove anything really, but I just think it'd be neat, would give him more potential history with Daisy. Video thumbnail I found showing what I mean with the skin tone inconsistency:

source link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzBoTM5Wxuk

Him being from far away might explain why he doesn't seem to know anyone (and no one seems to know him), and has a hard time fitting in.

I like to think he lived on a land area close to the Muda Kingdom, making him have a high affinity with water, and making him a very good swimmer. He can swim quite fast and dive extremely deep!

There's a very cool timeline that place Waluigi's first appearance in universe in Mario Party 3 (instead of the game order where he is introduced in Mario Tennis), where he introduces himself and also steals Luigi's island and make his own. I like to think he came to the Mushroom Kingdom itching a ride illegally on Daisy's boat and saw this island first and just went to it and got to work (and yes, he jumped off the boat and swam to it). Also here's the timeline in question check it out it's very cool and well put together:

https://seandwalsh.tumblr.com/timeline

He left shortly after the events of Super Mario Land (where Tatanga hypnotised the whole population of Sarasaland and kidnapped Daisy), after hearing about the heroic feats of Mario, and he also hears about Luigi. This was the point where he decided he was tired of living in shadows and wanted recognition and popularity too.

Unlike Daisy who goes back to Sarasaland when she isn't participating in events in the Mushroom Kingdom due to her role and responsibilites, Waluigi does not want to go back and elected permanent residence in the Mushroom Kingdom.

He found Luigi's island completely left unchecked, as it was mid construction on a day where nobody was there, all the tools and materials were just left here so he just went "well don't mind if I do >:)"

The piranha plants that he works with on his island are not just any random plants, they were native to the island and Waluigi essentially befriended them and convinced them to join him and go against Luigi, who might have gotten rid of them if he was to finish the constructions on his island.

He kept those plants ever since and now keeps raising them, there's a surprising high demand across the kingdom for them, so he makes a living giving plants new homes in various gardens, or doing piranha plant relocation when one spots a plant where it shouldn't be and could be dangerous.

Luigi never really did anything to get the island back because it was just simpler to move back in with Mario and he really couldn't be bothered to try and fix the whole mess, or have to fight over it against Waluigi.

Luigi left some personal belongings on the island that Waluigi just sold off. So yes, this happened:

Speaking of, he didn't expect THAT to actually sell and he even put on a ridiculous price on it for the sake of the joke, and yet somebody DID BUY IT. He sometimes remembers that and jokes about it (he would tell Luigi his fans are freaks) or tries very hard not to laugh at random when it comes to his mind.

The Luigi VS Waluigi rivalry started quickly after Waluigi stole the island, of course. Waluigi also sees Luigi as having an unfair advantage in life because he has Mario as a brother, and he considers Luigi as someone who is just "using his brother's popularity" to be popular in return. Waluigi doesn't have this chance, which makes him want to challenge Luigi and be better than him even more, to prove to him that you can win by your own self and without any help.

Daisy met Waluigi during MP3 and was not aware of him prior to that. She certainly used to despise him (gonna assume mostly because he is mean to Luigi), not sure if that evolved or not, but here are some recent images with them:

Out of topic but that reminds me that it seems Charles Martinet is convinced Daisy's favorite color is purple, it doesn't really add to anything I'm just wondering why or where did he get that? What's the origin of that?? Also Luigi immediately going "nuh huh nope nobody is a fan of Waluigi" omigod man

youtube

Back on topic, prior to MP3, Waluigi didn't own anything at all and lived a wanderer's life. Unlike Wario who might steal out of greed and simply because he wants a LOT of precious things, Waluigi started stealing out of necessity (and later on pettiness sometimes), and he got VERY good at it. Speaking of...

He has this ability (that he sees as a curse) to just not get noticed. He can steal something and no one would ever know it was him. It's very ironic since he is so tall, but if he decides he wants to take something discreetly, no one will be none the wiser. This allowed him to avoid a lot of trouble in the past.

Of course since he wants to be popular this is not very handy at all for his goals. He overcompensates by being as showy and boastful as possible to get attention on him. This is also due to the fact that he lived a long lonely life in shadows, he is pulling every attention seeking tricks he can.

However, when Waluigi is not participating in events or in public, and is instead in the privacy and comfort of his island, he does a complete 180. He has always been described as a hard worker:

He is a perfectionist too and can be very hard on himself when it comes to training in anything. All of the boast and fun goes away, and he is at his most serious when training. The piranha plants of the island often help him train and can be pretty concerned about him.

He is his worst critic and has a very negative self talk.

He DOES NOT GIVE UP. If he needs to hit a certain milestone in training, he will try again and again and again until he gets it, even if it takes him all day, or more. And yeah, that moonwalk? That funny spin he does? He spent DAYS getting those right.

sauce: https://mario.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000000282529 , it might be a repost itself though I'm not sure?

Out of topic but it made me think of this and I have to post it now:

youtube

BACK ON TOPIC, he is a very sore loser not only because losing obviously isn't fun to him (and also because he plays the games TO WIN), but also because it puts into question all of his hard training. So much so he'd rather blame anyone/anything else but himself. The others do not know this, but as soon as he goes back home after a loss, he IMMEDIATELY trains again and even harder.

He lives the "no pain, no gain".

When alone, he also has moments where he is eerily silent and lost deep in thoughts. Nobody knows what he might be thinking about, and the only ones who saw him like this are his plants. He does it most at the beach of the island he lives on, while looking at the mainland of the Mushroom Kingdom in the horizon.

About the pipeplaza Waluigi's backstory: I like to think "standoffish to everyone's kindness" also means he has a very "loner" and "I'm doing it myself" personality if that makes sense, basically he will refuse help and want to do anything on his own.

Speaking of being a loner, Waluigi is most likely the one guy with the LEAST connections with the other characters in the games. The only one where he has some form of connection is Wario, and even then, it's not a particularly close one (also shoutout thepipeplaza, absolutely goated):

The only reason Wario got close to Waluigi was because he is good at sports and could help him win, as for Waluigi he simply tolerates Wario since it's his best ticket to get into any big events.

And yes, Waluigi is quite lonely...

He doesn't help himself much about that though, he is so stuck in his own self pity he tends to believe it's him against the world, and again, HE REFUSES TO GET HELP!

I don't think he's doing ok??

I forgot my train of thoughts, so time for various random things! Waluigi is about 231cm, here's an image picturing the scale here, with Mario (155cm), an average man at 175cm, and the faded black block behind him is an average door at about 203cm.

Speaking of, I like to think the reason he crouches all the time is so he can pass by doorways without having to worry about whether or not he'll bonk his head. Also the residents of the Mushroom Kingdom are Toads. THEY ARE SMALL, he ISN'T.

There is a course in Mario Kart 8 called Water Park, I like to think that, although you mostly see Wario's Wheel on the course, it was originally Waluigi's idea, and he designed most things in the park, including the robotics. Wario however took care of the largest part of the park such as infrastructure and, of course, the economic aspects.

Speaking of robots, HE LOVES ROBOTS, and studies very hard to make his own machines, that he implements in his own stadiums/courses.

Also yeah, he LOVES PINBALL. The reason he loves it is not only because of the fun, the colors, the funny noises, and the skill required, it's also because it's a solo game! Fits very well with him always wanting to do better (and beat his own highscore) too. It also genuinely gives him a break from being competitive all the time. He cheats at them sometimes by grabbing the entire pinball table and moving it around, but WHO CARES! It's his game and he does what he wants. He also builds his very own pinball games of course, shoutout Mario Party Jamboree!

His favorite aesthetic is neon, or anything that glows in the dark.

Dancing is something he enjoys but trains very hard at. He dabbles in various styles (being very studious), this includes ballet. He is VERY GOOD at it, however...

...He lost in DDR Mario Mix because of one minor mistep which bothered him for the rest of the dance and the day, and again, because he focused too much on winning.

He is ironically at his best when he is not being competitive and is just having fun, but he can't help and be competitive and feel a constant need to prove himself.

He not only raises piranha plants in his garden, he also grows various other things such as his own food (again, self sufficient mindset), and flowers, especially roses and other flowers with a sting.

His favorite piranha plant specie is the piranha creeper: it's spiky, purple, it moves like snakes, and he likes their sneaky nature and thinks it's very cute when they borrow:

If Luigi is scared of anything remotly creepy, Waluigi probably LOVES it. I can see him like the horror genre too. Waluigi would just hold the spider and place it outside ("DON'T-A KILL IT!! do you know how much pests this will take care of???").

He sometimes also like scaring people himself as a prank, he hides and jumpscares people, especially Luigi.

Speaking of, he is VERY GOOD at hide and seek when it comes to being the one who hides. The way he can cram himself into some spots is quite impressive. However, he also suffers the fact that people often forget about finding him.

His perfectionism extends to how he looks by the way, I mean look at his hair, he has the most well combed hair amongst the main 4 (why is it so hard to find a clear image of Wario's hair in 3d??):

When not combed properly, his hair looks like this:

Unlike Wario, Waluigi has very good hygiene (and again with the water, he loves bathes).

His favorite thing is after he is done training hard, he treats himself to a hot bath, complete with various pleasantly smelling flowers from his own garden, clay mask, some music, and would just stay here and relax for a good hour. Coincidentally, his MP4 present room includes his washroom:

Due to living on an island, he owns a small boat to get back and forth to the mainland and his home. He, of course, made it himself. He is also capable of swimming from his island to the mainland and back.

Waluigi studies magic and can teleport small items (such as a rose) magically. He also studies illusion magic and anything considered tricky. He can also summon thorny vines, but only when he is charged up or VERY angry, or water when he is very sad.

In Mario Golf Super Rush, at some point during a boss fight, Wario and Waluigi assist the player by summoning lightning clouds to strike the boss or the ground and produce electric spheres for the player to shoot. While Wario is the one holding the sword, Waluigi is still doing some kind of work, and I like to think that while the sword and Wario provides the lightning, Waluigi provides the rain cloud:

While he despises Luigi and opposes the Mario bros, or can try and sabotage his opponents in competitions, he is actually very chill when not in these conditions.

He can move his ears slightly, they can slightly move towards the source of sound (it's very slight tho), and they flop around when he gets excited and jumps in place.

I feel like I haven't talked enough about the "blame" part of his character there. It's well known Waluigi tends to blame others (or anything other than himself really) when things don't go his ways. He also knows all his hard work HAS to make him good, so in his mind the only explanation that he fails to win is that everyone else is doing, or having, something unfair, and so he jumps into doing unfair things too. However when he is alone and in training, he tends to blame himself for mistakes more.

He does not know he is his own undoing and how much he self sabotages because he is again stuck in the mindset that it's not him, it's everyone else. To him the world is and has always been unfair and against him.

He LOVES PRAISE, and seeks it constantly.

I think that's it for now... although I might have forgotten some points that I might come back to edit in later. Hope you enjoyed my LONG ASS ramblings! Thanks for reading! :)

#waluigi #headcanons #smb #super mario bros #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #Youtube

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midnightlizard · 1 year ago

Text

Christmas help

Kate Bishop x gn!reader

Summary: basically the plot of Hawkeye, but with reader as Kate's partner

Warnings: Hawkeye spoilers, angst with a happy ending, some curse words

Word count: 5256

"okay I know it may sound crazy, but you have to believe me"

"why wouldn't I believe you?"

"well, because this is really crazy"

"Kate honey, we've been together for a while, I think I’m used to your level of craziness." You shrugged your shoulders.

"no-ugh" She removed one hand from her pocket to grab your wrist and pull you into a less crowded street, which was hard considering it was Christmas time. "this time, it was crazy for me too. I met...an avenger"

At this you widened your eyes. A thing that not many people knew, your girlfriend being one of them, is that you were the newest avenger, fighting crimes for almost five years now, but the other avengers agreed that with you still being a student it was safer to hide your identity. You trusted them not to tell random people who you were, but the thought did cross your mind.

"excuse me, you met who? Who did you meet?" You might already knew the answer by the excitement on her face, but you still wanted a confirmation.

"I met Hawkeye" she whisper-yelled "you could say we're partners now"

"partners...with Clint?"

"yea I figured he's not the most social person in the world but we, wait" she suddenly stops, confusion on her face "how do you know his name?"

...

Shit

"you remember the whole ultron thing? all the avengers' informations got leaked, i read his name" You shrugged. Thank god for those drama classes and quick thinking. "how did you meet him?" you changed the subject, and she seemed to fall into your trap.

"do you remember that charity thing my mom hosted right? turns out there was a big illegal auction and, you know Ronin? yea his suit was there and the tracksuit mafia wanted to buy it but I stole it before they could, I didn't want it I didn't know it was there, I was there just because my mom forced me to go, you know I don't like the parties my mom throws-"

"Kate" you stopped her messy rant, repeating your question. "how did you meet Clint?"

She nodded, collecting her thoughts before speaking again. "Clint knows Ronin wants his suit back, but we first have to take down these people, and it's better if we do it before Christmas because he made a promise to his family to be celebrate it with them."

You sighed, that was typical of Clint, he wouldn't leave if he knew a civilian was in danger. You never heard of this tracksuit mafia, but if it wanted Ronin, it's not something to joke about.

"that's why you have those cuts on you face?"

"yea we got into -a kind of- a fight, after we...got kidnapped, well he did. I just followed him." she responded hesitantly.

"Kate!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I had to help him. And yes I should have told you but that's why I called you. I wanted to spend a little time with you while I grabbed something to eat." she raised the bag she was holding.

"let's go home, you need to take care of those wounds" you said, knowing she doesn't know how to do that.

"wait let's go to my aunt's place, I told Clint I would bring some food."

- - - -

"Clint? I'm back!" Kate called, closing the door after letting you in "oh right he can't hear" she continued once she didn't get a response.

Said man raised his head from the newspaper he was holding when he saw movement. Once your eyes locked, his seemed to widen. With you being behind Kate, you were able to shake your hand and put a finger on your lips, hoping he would catch the signal.

"Kate why did you bring a friend? You know this is dangerous, they need to go home." Thank god he caught it.

"no no listen, I mean-" she took a notebook from the table and started writing on it 'they're my partner, (Y/N), I trust them completely and they can handle themselves'

Clint stared at the words for a moment, before rolling his eyes while nodding.

"woah..okay thanks, I thought it would have taken more convincing..." The brunette muttered under her breath. Well...he's better at doing his job than being an actor.

While she went to put the groceries in the kitchen, you signed to Clint 'I'll explain later'

He didn't have time to reply when his phone started ringing. Kate re-entered the room to help him, but you were already by the man's side, signing what Nathaniel was saying.

"uh yeah it's...tonight is movie marathon night, that's right, um I really wish I could be there with you" You and Kate exchanged looks, you could see a glimpse of guilt and worry in her eyes before he continued.

"I think I'll be back in the next day or so in time for our ugly Christmas sweater party. I'll be there buddy"

There was silence on both ends after that, before Nathaniel spoke again, "I love you dad"

You started signing but Clint beat you to it and responded with 'I love you more'.

When the call ended he nodded as a thanks and went into another room. Kate turned to look at you "I didn't know you knew sign language"

You put your hands in your pockets, a light nervousness clear in your voice "well, yeah because I never told you, I was mute for almost five years when I was a kid. Selective mutism to be exact."

She forrowed her eyebrows "I didn't know that either- why didn't I know that?"

You sighed, shaking your head "it's just a small part of my past, one I would prefer not to remember, that's all" before she could respond, you interrupted. "let me mend those wounds."

- - - -

"you want to go to your mother's house? And you want me to come along?" after taking care of kate, you repaired Clint's hearing device, Tony taught you how to, since you and him often had missions together. And now the adult archer was able to listen to your conversation.

"yes, (Y/N). Clint knows what we're looking for and I know all the passwords, we need you to alert us if my mom comes back before the time, entertain her until we are done."

"I don't know Kate...your mom doesn't like me. With what excuse am I into her house? 'oh hi miss Bishop I was just waiting for your daughter and instead of knocking I decided to just break into your house, but oh! would you like a cup of tea? a long cup of tea?' you don't even live there" you tried to explain your point, hoping she would see it.

"they're right Kate, we can't bring them into our mess, it's already bad enough that you are. I can't protect both of you." she was about to rebut but eventually closed her mouth, nodding her head.

"I'll let you two to your mission then." you announced, rising from your spot on the couch. Kate raised too, accompanying you to the door.

Once you arrived, you took her hands in yours, raising you voice just a bit so that clint could hear what you were about to say but not enough to let the girl in front of you notice "call me if you need anything, okay? I'll be ready"

"God I hope I won't need any more help" she mutterd making the both of you chuckle.

"I'll se you soon. Don't be too reckless, follow Clint's orders, please" and to prevent one of her stubborn comebacks, you put your lips on hers, kissing her softly.

"bye kid." shouted the man from the other room after a few minutes, effectively scaring the two of you.

"uh yea, bye Mr. Clint! bye Kate" you got out of the apartment. "I'll text you later, promise" she made a kissy face before shutting the door.

- - - -

You don't know how much time has passed since you last saw your girlfriend, trusting Clint to take care of her you decided to catch up on sleep all day. But it was now nighttime and you were doing a report of your last mission to give Fury as soon as it was completed.

Truth be told, it was more of a distraction, you were worried for the two of them but at the same time you knew how distracting and dangerous a sudden phone call could be. So you just had to wait and hope for the best.

A few minutes later you finished your report, your phone started ringing, '<my archer3' on the screen. Needless to say, you instantly responded. "Kate? oh my God, are you okay? Clint-"

"(Y/N)-" a word was all that it took to make you stop. Her voice...cracked. Her voice never cracks, always so confident and steady. "can I, can I come over? Please" if you weren't so on alert you wouldn't have heard her last word.

"of course you can baby, where are you? You want me to pick you up?"

"no, there's no need, I'm almost there" you internally took note of her now slightly relaxed tone.

"okay, I'll wait for you"

- - - -

As soon as you opened the door she entered the house, throwing the bow on the couch. While she was pacing around, fidgeting with her hands you took in her appearance. Her clothes were dirty and she looked sweaty, but most of all exhausted.

You stepped in her personal space, taking her cheeks in your hands to make her look at you. "Kate, how about you take a shower, there are some clothes on the sink, and then you can tell me what's going on, how does that sound?"

Her gaze shifted between your eyes, before sniffing and softly nodding her head.

- - - -

Once she got out of the bathroom, wearing her pants and your sweater, she found you sitting on the couch and her now clean bow was on the armchair. Sensing her presence you raised your head from your phone, smiling.

"Hey, take a slice of pizza, I ordered it today, I can heat it up if you want"

The archer ignored the food on the coffee table, instead taking the phone from your hands, putting it in her pocket. She sat beside you on the couch, putting one of your arms around her shoulder, while she laid her head in the crook of you neck, sighing.

Combining your free hand through her damp hair, you remained quiet, waiting for her to talk.

"me and Clint fought, well kind of-" she took a deep breath before recollecting her thoughts. She told you everything that happened, from the fight on the roof to the meeting with the masked assassin in her apartment.

"wait, Natasha's sister? are you sure?" she took her head off her shoulder to look at you, nodding. Natasha rarely talked about Yelena and they were mostly just little comments, but still, a desire to kill her sister's best friend was not something you expected from the blonde.

"I tried to contact Clint multiple times to inform him but he never answered, I guess we really are not partners anymore" she began looking at her hands, but she raised her head again once she felt a kiss to her forehead.

"it's okay, we'll figure something out, he may look like a grumpy man tired of his job, but he wouldn't let a teenager in danger, knowing he could be of help."

You tried to reassure her, and it seemed like it worked, judging by the chuckle that escaped her mouth. "when you talk like that it seems like you personally know him."

"I'm...good at reading people, I guess" after a few seconds of silence you focused on her breathing, noticing how regular it was, lowering you head you confirmed your suspicions, she fell asleep.

Being as careful as possible you picked her up bridal style and brought her to you bedroom. When you laid her on the bed she unconsciously wrapped her arms around your neck, as to keep you there.

"I wasn't planning on leaving you here, anyway" you laid next to her, taking her back in your hold, now with her head on your chest. "goodnight, love" you softly kissed her hair and waited for an eventual sign. Receiving back none, you cautiously took you phone from her back pocket to contact the blonde avenger.

'I'm not takings sides'

'but you saw how helpful she can be'

'I can look after her while you do your thing'

You thought for a few seconds about your next words.

'just tell me if you need my help, please'

You sighed, putting your phone on the nightstand you closed your eyes, and thanks to Kate's light snores you were soon able to fall asleep.

- - - -

The next morning Kate decided to go to her mom's house to reassure her, and you were still in your house, since you didn't have any information on the situation there wasn't really much you could do, you found yourself waiting for your girlfriend's messages.

From Clint, nothing. But recently he read the texts you sent him, that'll do for now.

- - - -

It's been two days now and you were once again sitting on the couch watching a movie in complete silence. That was until someone knocked, no, literally broke into your apartment.

You jumped from your spot ready to attack the intruder but your favorite scent and two arms around your shoulders stopped you.

"I talked to him! I talked to him! We're good"

You grabbed her waist to tear yourself away from the jumping girl in front of you, bright smile on her lips.

"Kate, oh my- how-what- it's been two days, mind texting me sometimes?" she opened and closed her mouth before pouting.

"I texted you, they were just a random letter, but-but I did" she tried, ending the hug with her hands on you shoulders.

- - - -

"So, what's the next step?" the dark haired girl shook her head, putting her glass on the coffee table, picking up a slice of pizza instead.

"I can't tell you that, it's reserved." she responded with a professional exterior. You open your mouth in amusement and unbelief which made her throw her head back laughing. "I admit I shouldn't have told you anything at all, but you're my partner and I always want to tell you what happens in my life" she ended on a shy note, looking at the food.

You took a bite from her pizza before she could "come on, what could I do? call the bad guys and tell them your plan?"

"(Y/N) stop, I can't tell you, Clint told me not not to"

You furrowed your brows "he did?"

"...yea"

She surrendered with just a look.

"okay he didn't exactly say not to tell you, but it's better if you don't know. I want to keep you safe and- and stop eating my pizza" she put the palm of her hand on your forehead, pushing you away with a fake annoyed face.

Once she finished eating she rose from her seat. "I'll take a shower and we'll go to bed?"

"yes please, you really stink" you got a punch on the arm as a response.

"shut up, says the one who hugged me all night" she grabbed your cheeks, kissing you quickly, before exiting the room.

While you were putting away the pizza box you heard the ring coming from your phone. You took it from your pocket to read the message.

'eventually, are you free tomorrow night?'

You smirked.

'hello to you too, Barton'

'eventually yes, I am free tomorrow night'

- - - -

"Clint the tracksuit are here" Kate stated through her earpiece. She just got down the building thanks to the rope, trying to chase Yelena.

The avenger exposed himself to the window, looking around and muttered angrily "(Y/N) where the fuck are you?-"

"right here, what do I do?" you responded energetically, barely missing the arrow that was aimed at your face.

"woah! you should really recognize the voice, before randomly shooting, you know?" you took the arrow stuck on the wall, handing it to the man.

"you're late."

"technically you didn't give me a time so I can't be late, you just said tonight"

"(Y/N)." and his stern tone made you drop the jokes.

"right, okay. What do I do?" you repeated your question.

"I need you to help Kate, and if you take down the enemies on your way it would be appreciated." he didn't wait for an answer and marched out of the room.

You shook your head, making little jumps to accommodate the adrenaline in your body. You got down from the window, landing without a problem thanks to your powers.

You scanned the area, finding your girlfriend talking to Jack. Running towards her you landed a flying kick in the ribs to a man behind Kate, probably planning on hitting her with his metal bat.

You suddenly kneeled on the ground to avoid the bow, once again, aimed at your face. "I'm on your side, not need to attack me" you pointed a finger to her face. There was no need to change your voice, since the mask already did it for you.

"what are you doing here?"

You tried making up an excuse "uh well, Hawkeye called, said he needed my help."

She furrowed her brows, probably because he didn't tell her anything. "is that guy on our side? I saw you talking to him" you pointed in Jack's gerenal direction, even tho he was not there anymore.

"it's hard to explain, but yea he's with us" she got the words out after a short minute. You both got into action.

- - - -

After half an hour of fighting you find yourself on the ground, a man's hands on your neck, making it impossible for you to breathe.

You used you knee to hit him in the stomach, causing him to growl out in pain, giving you the opportunity to throw him on his back.

As you straddled him and gave him a punch to the side of his head, you heard Kate screaming, and instantly after, you felt a metal bat colliding with your head.

"oh my God!" the archer exclaimed running to you, after defeating your aggressor. The blow only brought you a sense of disorientation thanks to the mask's protection, but what you didn't know was that the voice changer mechanism was now broken.

"are you, are you okay?" she kneeled beside you, using one of her hands to support your shoulders.

"yeah, go back to the fight, I'll be fine in less than a minute." Kate's concern stopped for a second to let confusion settle in upon hearing your voice.

"your voice" even tho it was just a whisper, you were able to hear her, making you jump on your feet and far from the girl.

"see? All better now, let's go back" you said in an horrible fake voice, turning your back to distance yourself.

But Kate obviously didn't fall for your trick. So she called after you. "(Y/N)? Come back here, (Y/N)."

You slowly did as she said, suddenly hoping for a group of enemies to find you, but it seemed like they were on a coffee break.

The brunette took a few steps forward, until your bodies were only centimeters apart. Knowing it was useless to try and defend yourself, you let her put her hand on the base of your neck, to pull your mask off, revealing your face.

“You’re a superhero?”

"well, 'superhero' is a term used in comic books or movies, we don't really use that word in real life" seeing the roll of her eyes and her clenched jaw made you stop. You sighed. "yes."

"why didn't you tell me? You don't trust me enough?" you immediately shook your head, putting your hands in front of you. "of course not, love. It's not a matter of trust-"

"then what is it?" she looked away and sniffed, like she was about to cry. "and don't tell me it's because you wanted to protect me, or maybe it is? Maybe you think I'm so weak that I can't even protect myself?"

You closed your eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of your nose. She was just putting words in your mouth, making you snap.

“Here? You want to do this here?” you opened your arms wide as if to remind her of the situation you both were in.

She sniffed again, soflty nodding her head. "yeah, you're right, let's not talk about it anymore mh? Let's not talk about anything, anymore."

"come on, Kate you know that's not-" you tried grabbing her arm but she was already out of reach. You let out a loud puff, throwing your mask on the ground in frustration.

After a couple of minutes you hear steps behind you and you quickly grabbed your mask from the floor putting it back on, only to realize that the steps belonged to Clint.

"how is it going here, why is not Kate with you?" he was trying to avoid showing it but the worry on his voice was evident.

As much evident as your own trembling voice when you turned to look at him. "I don't know, she left. She found out and she just left. I couldn't get her to calm down and let me explain."

The man put a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. "(Y/N) stop. You're an avenger. You must put the safety of the civilians before your personal business." it was a stern thing to say, but he knew you needed an emotional slap to get back on track. He continued after seeing you nod. "when did she separate?"

You shrugged your shoulders "three to four minutes ago. Three minutes and twenty-five seconds." Clint smiled lightly seeing your somewhat normal behavior.

"Go help her kid. I'm rooting for you." you raised your eyebrows with a smile, even though he couldn't see your face.

"you are rooting for me? I'm must be fucked then." he jokingly pushed your shoulder with a muttered 'shut up'

- - - -

As you left Clint on his own, not knowing that soon after he met Yelena, you went to look for your girlfriend and heard her screaming from the other side of the road.

She was standing on the ground, with a really big man in front of her. He was leaning to give her another punch but your voice stopped him. "hey. You want to fight someone so bad? Fight me you coward"

Your courage flew out the window when he turned around, showing you his face. Kingpin. Clint told you something about him but seeing him in front of you was even worse.

"oh? Look who we have here to join us." he started with a smile full of malice "Listen kid, I'm not interested in you-" he stopped again, felling something touching his back.

What touched him was actually one of Kate's arrows.

She suddenly looked at you, with both fear and determination strong in her gaze. With a quick look at the arrows lying around in the shop, you knew her plan.

As soon as Kingpin turned to face the girl you jumped on his back, with your arms around his neck and your hands covering his eyes, Kate sprung into action and put the arrows down following her scheme.

Kingpin though, had no problem in grabbing you by the jacked and throwing you across the room, your back hit the wall and then your face met the floor making you growl out in pain.

This continued for some time, with you taking his hits, and Kate arranging her arrows on the floor. Running to hide behind some boxes, she called after you. "watch out!"

With the last breath of air you had left, you gave him a punch under his jaw, effectively causing him to release your neck. You used the time he spent looking at all the arrows laying around to get out of the building, but close enough to be able to look after Kate.

Then, there was a big glowy blue light and the man was the center of it. After a few minutes of silence you thought it was over, Kate thought it too, but you suddenly saw him coming at you.

You gulped, preparing to use your powers but before you could, a car hit Kingpin against the wall of the shop. You relaxed your arms, seeing Kate's mother exiting the vehicle.

You stayed on the side while they talked but you could hear what they were saying.

"is that what heros do? Arrest their mother on chirstmas." Those were the last words Eleanor spoke before a police agent took her away.

You looked to your side, suddenly noticing that kingpin was not there anymore. You wanted to go look for him but you averted your gaze when the archer marched towards you.

"go back to your house and mend those cuts I know you rarely do...god I should have known" she closed her eyes in realization "and all the little information you let slip out about Clint, you even repaired his hearing device for fuck's sake" she threw her hands in the air, shaking her head.

"Kate, I'm sorry. I-" you stopped when she held one finger up. "stop, I don't wanna hear it, I don't want to hear anything from you, I can't even look at you anymore."

She turned her head but you noticed the tears that begged to be let out, and you felt even worse than you already did. You tried to grab her arm but she took a step back.

" don't. I've had enough of being betrayed." that's all she said, before going away a second time, probably to look for Clint.

You sighed taking your phone and opened the chat with the avenger.

'she's coming to you'

'take care of her cuts please'

'merry Christmas'

You shook your head, blinking away the tears, going back to your house.

- - - -

It was now 4 a.m. in the morning and you didn't sleep, too busy replaying the events of the night in your head. You should have told her sooner, you trust her with you whole heart and you know she can protect herself, the worry just seemed to always win.

Suddenly you hear three knocks on your door.

"it's becoming a habit" you murmured as you went to see who it was.

"hi" there she stood with a timid smile on her lips.

"hey, come in" you closed the door after letting her in.

You were not going to lie, the other side of you was kinda angry at the archer, you just wanted her to let you explain. You crossed your arms.

She took a deep breath "okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way, it's just been a stressful week, you didn't tell me about you being mute and-"

"I said it's something I don't want to talk about."

"I know I know, and I completely understand, I'm just saying that so many things came together and-"

You sighed, you both said sorry and you both explained yourselves so there was no need to keep going. "I forgive you"

"Clint told me how important it is for some heros to keep their identity secret"

"Kate I said it's okay"

"and normally I wouldn't mind because I understand but-"

With her hands in yours you shut her up, with the help of a kiss "I said I forgive you". You pull away from her, chuckling. "God it is so hard to get you to listen."

“I still hate you, ya know?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. "and for what?" you knew from the look in her eyes it was not going to be anything serious, and you almost wanted to laugh at her attempt to keep her frown. "well you are an avenger, every time I talked about Clint or about a theory you always listened to me without saying anything."

You burst out laughing and it only got worse when your girlfriend slapped your chest, keeping her hand there as a barrier when you brought you lips centimeters away from hers.

"don't, don't kiss me you don't deserve it" she whispered with her eyes almost closed.

But once you put your mouth on hers she couldn't help but smile, humming. One of her hands cupped your cheek, the other on the back of your neck, while your hands held her waist. She detached when she needed to breathe. The pout now was completely gone as she looked in your eyes.

"am I forgiven now?"

"mh, almost" she teased, brushing her lips with yours, hinting at another kiss.

But you were planning something else. "I got a proposition for you then" she furrowed her brows in response, slightly upset you didn't give her what she wanted.

“Wanna help me make a new super suit?”

This was even better then a kiss, she put her hands on your shoulders, squeezing them, clearly excited. "wait, really? Can I really do it? Oh I have a lot of ideas if I can"

You looked between her eyes, smiling. "of course you do, you make sure to share every possible design you can think of"

"and now you can use them!" she said matter-of-factly. "but we better get to sleep now, we have places to be."

"where do we have to go?" instead of answering, she kissed you again, pulling you to your bed.

- - - -

"dad! dad you're here!" an excited Nathaniel screamed, running to jump into his father's arms, followed by Lila and Cooper. Laura was a few feet away, enjoying the scene with her arms crossed.

"merry Christmas buddy, all of you" he whispered, kissing every kid's head. Then he raised his own to look at his wife.

"I hope you don't mind, I brought three strays." "uhm, excuse me" you entered the house with a fake hurt, and loud, tone. "I am not a-"

"(Y/N)!" Nathaniel interrupted you, moving away from the avenger only to hug you. You picked him up, and he wrapped his legs and arms around you. "hey little boy, merry Christmas" he chuckled in response "merry Christmas (Y/N)" depositing a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

A bark distracted the happy scenario, making everyone but you and Clint turn to the door. "sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I guess pizza dog is hungry." she stood still with a shy smile. You playfully rolled your eyes, taking her hand with your free one.

"come in, you idiot, only you are missing"

- - - -

After that rather clumsy and shy enter, she met everyone, already seeming to get along with Lila. You played some family games, with joyful bickering between the different teams. Once it was time to prepare lunch, Laura instantly scolded you when you went into the kitchen to help, playfully shoving you away and demanding that you needed to rest.

So you were now in the living room while the baby of the house slept on your lap. You felt the couch dip and a little weight on your shoulder. "how are you feeling?" you asked, seeing her yawning and nuzzling her head deeper into your neck.

"mh, tired" she murmured.

Your lips turned into a smile, leaving a kiss to her temple "merry Christmas, my love"

Kate Bishop Masterlist - MCU Masterlist

General Masterlist

#mcu x reader #mcu #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye #x reader #marvel x reader

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