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dilf-docs · 2 days ago

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My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your relationship is finally out to the world. now, pedro and you will explore what it feels like to have your love out in the open.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, FLUFF, the empire of bad humor strikes again, hurt/comfort bc all roads lead back to angst, a brief mention of bodyshaming, this is lowkey pwp my bad, dirty talk, fingering, p. in v., bathroom sex ijbol, exhibition kink (they be fucking everywhere but in a bed), degradation kink (he calls her a slut twice), the one and only creampie (twice), so naturally: breeding kink, ALSO pls stop the husband!pedro reqs, i beg. a delulu girl can only take so much 💔

word count: 10,991 words

side note: not one but two requests to be fullfilled! this is as a sequel to call it what you want. also, spam time: i happen to write in wattpad as well, and i have a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) but it's on spanish tho. if u speak the language and would like to tune in, read it here AND spam again but speaking of the ptwt dynamic, why don't we become moots? check my (new) stan twitter account here (i had one in 2022 that i had since 2016 but entered a crisis and deleted it lol)

part: I/II

The news had spread like wildfire.

As soon as you hit the red carpet, hand on hand, rings finally on display―shining under the spotlight, your phone had been blowing up nonstop: every show, podcast, tabloid, news outlet and social media had been talking about it. California had turn into an easter egg playground; everyone was eager to know it all.

(They had found the church where you married, the dress boutique, jewelry shop where Pedro bought the rings―the employees ratted him out, even sharing pictures of the moment, your husband posing with them without knowing of the future treason. They too had found the place where the reception took place, and even the name of the priest who had married you, but he refused to give the hungry press any details. God Bless)

In short, it had been a hell of a week. You figured dissapearing for a while was for the best, but with some interviews still left, that option had been discarded. Still, doesn't mean you couldn't retreat for a couple of days to the tranquility of your home while it was time to show up again. Well, as peaceful as it could get, since reporters were camping near your house and roaming around Hollywood Hills like vultures; the neighbour's nagging was just another layer of problems in your shit cake.

"I'm sorry, Louis. Walks will be postponed for a while" you talk to your cat, but the lazy bastard just stretches and lays down again. "Yeah, I can see you're affected. Don't cry"

"It's not the cat's fault" Pedro emerges from behind, "don't take it out on him"

He takes a sit next to you, two mugs in hand. He gives you the one with a chocolate steam, a souvenir he bought when you visited your home country last summer. You wonder if that's a trip you'll ever be able to make again.

"I'm not. Just- It's horrible that I can't even go outside my own house and walk the same roads I've walked in four years because the press is hidden with cameras in, I don't know, bushes!" you exclaim, quiet rage carried within your words. "It's unfair, really. All I want is to walk my damn cat without a flash up my ass"

Pedro nestles his face in your neck, nose carressing the skin. Giggles leave your lips, the sensation ticklish.

"It'll pass. It always does" he says, voice assuring, probably because he's used to the violation of privacy, but you're not. Getting bigger, is this the price to pay for making a name for yourself and claiming out loud who you love?

"I hope so" you murmur above the quietness of your home, a sound as eerie as fake, devoid of it's tranquil nature as a world of invasion awaits outside.

"Do you trust me?" Pedro speaks, voice unwavering. He holds your gaze, steady brown challening your shaky orbs.

"I do" you speak up, yet you wish you could believe it. You believe in him, there's no question to that, but do you believe in yourself? That the love you'd put out to the world would be treated with the same care and respect you have treated it in secret? For a fleating moment, you miss the secrecy.

"Then trust me this will be over sooner than expected" he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, feeling remanents of chocolate he licks away, as you mockingly yell ¡Qué sucio! but it's devoid of malice. "In time, this will become another anecdote we'll share with our kids, and laugh with our grandkids when we get older"

You smile, feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. Oh, doesn't he turn you into a pathetic sappy wife?

"Well" you sniffle, giggling to push back the tears away. "About the old part..."

He playfully kicks your side. "Uno ya no puede ser romántico, que le salen con estas cosas. Your generation could use some respect, you know?" (one can't simply be romantic anymore)

Pedro gets up, picking the mug from your hands as both rings brush together, the gold shinning under the morning Californian sun.

"And your generation could take a joke" you quip, lips curled up like you hadn't in weeks.

"Very funny, y/n. Thought you loved me" but then he's pressing a kiss to your temple like kissing you once isn't enough, promising to return after washing down the mugs.

"I do!" you shout to his dissapearing broad frame as he enters the kitchen, and he playfully makes a dissmissing move with his palm.

The laughing dies when your phone chimes next to you.

You shouldn't really, but the curiosity that draws you in is as intense as a magnet. The phone burns on its position, screaming for you to open it, despite being told by your husband that the best was choice was to ignore it until the buzz had died down, but you're afraid the turmoil isn't nowhere to be finished. Comments can be mean, he'd said, they can hurt you. Pedro said he'd learn with time to ignore it, but he was experienced. You weren't, so naturally, as your husband and protector, he wanted to shield you from the pain.

Although, both of your fandoms had been pretty supportive of your relationship, some user even claiming to suspect it, making threads full of easter eggs and connections that validated the theory which was now a reality. I've connected the dots, followed by pictures of you sharing wardrobe, slips on interviews, similar backgrounds in your posts across social media, and of course, the two Gladiator Ii interviews. Many resorted to making edits or screaming over your pictures in the premiere, demanding for more content you had yet caved in to share (there was a gigantic carpet of evidence sitting heavy in your cloud).

So, in a way, this support made it hard for you to truly dimension the hate Pedro warned you about: all you saw was fans being happy and showering you with love, making paparazzi to be the only problem as for now.

That's it.

You cave in, turning the phone on as you bite your lip, searching first your Instagram: a bunch of new followers, many with variations of ispunk on their usernames, as well as a swarm of comments on your recent posts. There's a small voice in your head telling you to turn away, but your thumb moves without thinking, clicking on pictures of the red carpet―a carrousel of you and then a picture of you both at the end, one fans had been gushing about the last couple of days, rings on display, practically up their noses. You were smiling, and Pedro was looking at you fondly, his other hand holding Lux but his gaze never leaving yours; he was too perfect to be real―yours.

You unconsciously smile at the captured moment, love obvious on your faces, so you open the comments, thinking it would be the same support or love radiating of the comment.

But boy, weren't you wrong?

It was all the same, support lost between waves of hate. Variations of bodyshaming, age shaming and even gold digger claims were on full display across the comment section. "She's ugly" "In it for the money, am I right?" "I thought Pedro had better taste, lol" "She got the role in Gladiator II because of nepotism. Or cocksucking" and then a cruel answer that read "Right, threesome with Ridley. Ew, what a whore!"

Worst of it all, some even had Pedro profile pictures, or usernames and accounts dedicated to him.

Your heart was beating like crazy, chest heavy and hollow, face red with emotions you couldn't quite place (embarrasment? fear? rage? sadness?) as you kept searching across Twitter*, doing a quick skim of the trendings that included you. The same hate speech pattern was all over the timeline, some betting for divorce in a couple of years (even months!), while others took their time dissecting your looks and relationship. As if they knew. Long gone were the edits and harmless threads: the hate wave was here to stay. Some where even being a bit racist, the irony of it all, being Pedro himself was latino and didn't shy away from it, rather proud as he didn't miss an opportunity to shot out his dear Chile. Or any social issue, as a matter of fact, very vocal on his political beliefs.

This was fucking ridiculous, and if the cameras were an issue, this swarm of negativity is what really took a toll on you, the flashes as you went grocery shopping now barely a scratch. No, this was worst. All you wanted to do was cuddle in a blanket while wearing one of Pedro's shirts and dissappear. Too much noise. Too much hate. You can feel it creeping up your body, tainting your soft curves, wrinkles, acne scars and face. It's like rough hands, tugging harsh, ripping your vocals because you can't scream; no words to express this pain.

You knew one day it would come, but never imagined the hurt and to what extent people were capable of. Cruelty. Dissecting your life and body like it was a show for them to be entertained: your marriage was a circus and your body a joke.

It hurt their condescending dismiss of your love, questioning as if the gap were only numbers and not a pillar of your relationship that made you and Pedro closer, despite the bridge in age. You were reduced to a middle-age crisis, and he to a filthy man pinning for a younger girl. Your body was turn apart, despite no real flaws existing. Humans are meant to be so, not perfect, but real, and that was the problem: you had turn into an object―a target for their dards to pierce through.

Your body shakes violently with cries, deafening your ears that you don't hear when Pedro walks in.

"Why are you crying?" he rushes to your side, panic on his voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You barely manage to shake your head, and then his eyes scan all over your features, until they land on the phone on your hands. The worry turns to anger as he asks:

"You looked at them, didn't you?"

He isn't yelling, but it would be better if he did. This contained fury, fading into dissapointment, as if you were a naive child scolded by their parents makes you feels small and stupid, as if you knew no better.

"I'm sorry-" you manage to choke out among tears, "I know you told me-"

"I told you" he interrupts, words laced with wrath, "so this wouldn't happen. See what happens?"

"Why are you talking to me like it's my fault?" you yell, and Pedro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I didn't ask to receive all this! Do I deserve the death threats, shame and hate?"

He walks past you, and it's like a slap to your face. Was he going to behave like this? Didn't it matter how you felt, or was it something childish that could be brush to the side like nothing? Insecurities you hadn't even think of come crashing down on you, doubts creeping up and attacking you from all sides. It's horrible. You try to hold onto the good memories, praying you don't loose him. You can't. You just can't.

"Answer!" you demand, tears spilling like a broke dam.

"I was just closing the windows. Or do you want to fuel the talk, huh? Give the hungry hoard more to bite?" Pedro then stands to hold your gaze, and you hate that you can't place his emotions. Anxiety corrodes your brain: was this really the beginning of the end?

"Do I?" you dare to speak up, and even if its loud, it comes out drowned, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil taking its toll on you. "Do I deserve it?"

"No, you don't, carajo!" Pedro bursts. "You don't deserve any of that, which is why I didn't want you looking at those things!"

He sighs, realizing the anger is misdirected.

"I'm sorry"

Your broken wails are the only thing to be heard. He hates himself for being a part of it, even if not the biggest.

"No, I'm sorry for being so stupid" you sob. "I-I just wanted for people to be as happy for us as I am with you"

"Come here" but he's the one cutting the space to embrace you.

His scent calms a part of you, body still rocking with violent shakes.

"You're not stupid. Nor ugly, or any of those things people are calling you. No, mi amor. You're beautiful, smart and talent. They fail to realize I'm the lucky one. So please, don't be hard on yourself, yeah? I can't bear to see it. Less if I know it's not true. You didn't ask for it; you don't deserve all that bullshit"

He presses a kiss to your temple, arms that hug you tighter holding you close close up to the point his heartbeat melts within your own.

I won't let you go. You won't fall as long as I got you.

"We'll get through this, yeah? Think of the future, and what's to come. It's hard, that I know, but let us enjoy the moment. Life is too precious to waste it away" he brushes stray tears with his thumb, softly and full of love that words aren't enough to express. "I'm here" the out loud, "and I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise"

Later that day, Pedro posts a carrousel of unseens, even one of your wedding (a video of your first dance), telling people to leave you alone. That he loves you, and that no malicious news, fans or comments will ever change that―suck it energy laced within his rageful statement.

Safe to say, in the next weeks, hate is barely a small voice whispering in the back of your neck, one that hushes down with each kiss and/or words uttered by your one and only devoted husband.

mandoshoney: y/n protection squad pull up, we ride at dawn starlightt180: unhing3dprincess WHERE ARE U??? PTWT IS IN SHAMBLES AND NEEDS U MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAAA elysyannemimi: i feel like a kid scolded by their dad. pedro has achieved the ultimate daddy status bobgirlll: is no one going to talk about how rageful/protective pedro sounded in that story????? NEED MORE FERAL PEDRO RN GRRrrrr ps. photos so cute, wish that was me lol pyramiidsf: i hope y/n is okay, ppl can be so cruel sometimes but at least she's got pedro on her side <3 he's such a perfect man :,)

It had been days since your fight.

In an sweet attempt to cheer you up, Pedro had taken you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant you can't remember the name of. If they'll snap pictures of my wife without my permission, I might as well show you off. So, per his petition, you had wore a little black dress that hugged every curve of your body perfectly and pushed your tits to the top. Stunning, he had growled, and it had been hard to push him off as he devoured your mouth in your house's doorstep.

"Let's give them talk" you had agreed.

So now you sat at the restaurant, Pedro filling your cup of wine for the third time in a row, talking about all and nothing: about politics, the weather, your siblings, Louis the cat, upcoming gigs around your home you wanted to go to, how support had risen and the hate had dwindled, the numerous calls of job offers and interviews to keep on milking your relationship... life had never been more hectic.

"You know, maybe the dress was a bad idea" he takes a bite of his meat, tone nonchalant.

"Yeah?" you challenge, cheeks flushed with alcohol, "why's that? I thought I had to look good. What changed your mind?"

"Turns out" he looks at you, gaze piercing through your body, brown warm eyes darkening, "I figured something"

You know your husband. It's still fresh in your mind the first day you took a notice of it: jaw clenching, gaze fixated at nothing and white fists balled up on to the sides, arms swinging while fingers itched. A vein on his forehead would pop, and brows would melt together in a furrow. It happened when you got recognized by a fan, on your early days, and he had taken a picture of you, uploading it to social media. Dating Pedro had been going on for little to five months, and the way this guy hugged you from behind, hand resting above your ass, had made your then-boyfriend see red. His posture stiffened, demeanor changed and face adquired all the characteristics above. There was only one correct answer: Pedro was jealous, so fucking jealous.

So here he is now, jealous to the bone, alcohol increasing the rage.

"And that is?" you push his buttons, something you normally wouldn't do, but you're drunk and God, so sex-starved. His possesive side was always hot, yet now? It had a layer of allure it didn't have before, the idea of calming him down long lost.

"You know what it is" he answers, but you tilt your head to the side, acting confused. Pedro growls, clenching the glass a bit too tight; you fear it'll break.

"No, I don't" you serve more wine in your glass, savouring the liquid. Some spills into your mouth, and you lick it while not breaking eye contact. "Enlighten me"

"Turns out" the words come out strained, a whirlwind of emotions burning in the tip of his tongue, "that I wanted people to look at my wife, but I looked their looks and realized I don't like how they look at her"

He rambles the words out, speech pattern slurred and ideas clashing into one another, clearly drunk.

"I see" you draw out, demeanor calm, but your panties have started to get wet.

"No" he hits the table, making your eyes go wide and people turn to your table. You should be embarrased, but you're only aroused. "You don't see what I see. And I hate it, I fucking hate it" he seethes, words spit out over your unfinished meal.

"Dessert?" the waiter appears from seemingly nowhere, menu on hand.

Pedro doesn't even look when he answers, "Sure. Bring your best"

"The chef's suggestion is Soufflé, a classic dessert from his country"

"That'll do" Pedro looks at you, but his brain seems to be somewhere else. Like he's thinking. "How long will it take?"

The waiter ponders the answer, yet doesn't think any weird of it.

"About twenty to thirty minutes. Would that be alright? Or would you prefer to switch to one of our quick-fixes? They're as delicious as our fresh and-"

"No" your husband interrupts, eyes shinning with something akin to dangerous. "We'll take the soufflé. Just want my wife to eat the very best"

The waiter smiles. "Sure, will be back in a few. More wine?"

Pedro stops the action, removing the bottle's neck from pouring more red liquid in your glass.

"Won't be needed"

They excuse themselves, leaving both of you alone. The restaurant bubbles with chat and instrumental music from a band playing on a corner, but all you hear is his heavy breathing and your heart.

"I wanted more wine" you pout, not even knowing why you said it.

He smiles devilishly. "I'll give you something better than that"

How does it happen, you have no idea, but then Pedro gets up with a brash move, chair making a sound that draws attention. He smirks, his auburn reflecting on the candle glowing in the center with a light that's menacing.

"I'm going to the bathroom" an announcement that feels like a threat that runs through the newfound tension; it could be cut with even a butterknife.

You sit there in silence, too stunned to speak. Your phone chimes in what feels like an hour (it's been a few minutes, probably three). You open the notification, a single text from Pedro.

I'm waiting.

So this was his plan all along, huh? Maybe he's gotten bored of sex on a bed and room like normal couples, because ever since that time you sucked his dick in his trailer, Pedro has shown an appetite for public sex. Well, more like just shown but never done. Guess that changes as of tonight.

I'm coming.

Truth is, after the reveal and fight, you hadn't had sex since that time before the London premiere. Press tour hadn't finished, and the movie was still playing in theathers, but it feels much longer the time you had gone without having his dick rearranging your insides. That changes as of tonight.

You practically leap out of your sit, rushing to the restroom, which is too fancy for your liking. You're unsure how to proceed, and it should be because you realized how stupid and reckless this is, but it's more because you don't know which door Pedro is behind: men or women.

You knock softly on the ladies room first. "I'm here" you speak, voice small.

After a few seconds, a muffled voice from behind replies: "Me too"

You giggle as he pulls you inside, mouth devouring yours in a hot kiss.

"The lock!" you squeal, yet Pedro is busy buring his face between your breasts, pulling the dress down until he's nipping at the skin before licking the spot with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the tiled white wall, cold meeting your now heating skin.

"Mmm, missed this" he mumbles in a drunken state. "Needed my girls so bad"

His words elicit a moan out of you, a way to comunicate that your body too had been aching for this.

"Please, Pedro-" you whimper, trying to get rid of the pretty dress. He doesn't say it, but his movements command for power, big hands dragging your dress down until the black cloth falls to the floor in a sound filled with grace, it feels merciful.

"Black panties? But I thought I was a man with a plan" he groans, calloused digits ghosting over the wet patch in the middle. He smells your arousal off his fingers, and this is so nasty but you're so into it.

"Two can play" is all you answer, eager fingers unbuckling his belt as you unbutton the formal pants and pull them down to his knees, so with his underwear.

"Sure thing" he chuckles darkly. "Just look at you, baby. So loud, but you gotta be quiet. ¿Quieres que alguien entre y te vea así? Fucking slut, begging for my cock" (do you want someone to come in and see you like this?)

He's always been sweet-talking you through sex, and you know he doesn't mean it aside from being lewd words, but you also didn't know you could be aroused by it. Change is welcome, to say the least.

His hard dick is immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs, like he's got no time to loose, kissing you roughly like he hasn't eat and your mouth is his meal.

"Twenty minutes" he grumbles, groaning.

"Or thirty" you add, whining when his cock brushes dangerously close to your dripping folds.

"Can't believe you're this wet already" he chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathy sigh, lost in the inside of your mouth.

"I've been wet since before we left the house and you kissed me"

"And I kissed you" he adds. "No sé ni por qué putas te traje si sólo quería quedarme en casa y comerte" (i don't know why the fuck i took you out if all i wanted was to stay at home and eat you out)

You moan at his dirty mouth, clicking your tongue as a way to say so.

"You dirty old man-" it dies in your throat when he glides inside your folds with ease, a finger slipping in, then two, as he curls them. Your head rolls back, landing against the door with a hollow thud.

"Dirty? But you enjoy this, don't you?" his fingers buried up your hilt. Your eyelids flutter, whimpering drowned by your lips, bitten so deep you think you start to taste blood. "Bad news, mami. You're as dirty as me"

You choke in your words. "No-"

"No what?" Pedro mocks, sliding his digits out of you and shoving them inside his mouth, sucking on them while looking at you. You whine at the display and loss of them, knowing he's tauting you for fun. "Don't tell me you don't want someone to come in here and see you acting like a dirty slut? To see you almost coming here and now with just two of my fingers"

"Fine. What if I want to, huh? Just give me your damn cock already and quit teasing"

Words were lewd, but Pedro smiles with adoration.

"That's my girl"

His length springing free to slap against his now smooth stomach, your mouth drooling.

"Sit"

He glares back, "in the toilet?"

"Well, do you happen to see a couch or bed?" you quip. "That's right: you were the one who chose the bathroom, desperate old man. So needy, aren't you?"

You see your husband turning around, ashamed, and you laugh. "I didn't think it through" and you avoid to add a that's quite obvious snarky type of reply.

"Want me as much as I do?" Pedro doesn't protest anymore, grunting some spanish curses before sitting on the cold surface. "Good. Then comply"

You swing a leg over his lap, not afraid if the thing breaks, dragging your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, biting at your lower lip to hide a growl that seems to erupt from deep within his chest.

"Gonna ride you, baby. Is that okay?" you take the lead, and Pedro gets frustrated that you're taking up a plan that was originally his. Despite such, he just finds himself nodding wordlessly like a fool.

You line up, desperate to have him inside of you. But you go slowly down, taking his size, maybe because you're drunk or because you'd never fucked in a bathroom before. Because, really, how will you even try to explain your PR team a broken bathroom?

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push. His strong arm cages your waist, as he moans in your ear, bodies going up and down in sync. His slides are smooth across his length, helping you find your pace.

"Fuck" you whimper, legs starting to shake. "I think I-"

"I know" he interrupts you, a quick kiss to your earlobe. "It's okay; I've got you, linda"

He thrusts upwards, toilet creaking as Pedro keeps you in place.

You bury your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans, skin slapping against skin loudly, his movements becoming faster. The pressure keeps on adding, until the tightness on your walls is too much, and you're collapsing over his chest, folds spasming as he empties his load inside of you, seed deep in your walls, dripping down your legs.

"Oh, shit" you gasp, "Pedro!"

"Perdón!" he shouts, then covers his mouth. "Mierda, no quise ser tan ruidoso. Ay, carajo. Didn't want to spill all over you-" (sorry! didn't mean to be so loud. oh, fuck)

"There's a sink" you start, "and toilet paper. We'll manage"

"Right" he looks at his watch, "we got about ten minutes"

You smile, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck. "If the chef took the whole thirty"

"There's only one way to find out" he gasps for air. "Pero, ¿no estás llena? Still up for dessert?" his big hand finds it's way to your tummy, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. It lingers, and when you look into his eyes, he averts his gaze, ashamed of whatever he thought. (but, aren't you full?)

"After this, I need some sugar to make it home" your eyelids drop. "I'm starving"

He presses a loud kiss to your head, "that's my girl"

"Yours" you pull back to rest your forehead against his. "Just yours"

He jolts forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it.

"Good. Now, I'll give my good girl what she deserves" he takes some toilet paper to clean his spilling load out of you, kisses running from your face to neck. Then, gently so, lets you dress in again, exiting the bathroom first to give you some cleaning up space. When you come back to your table, the Soufflé is there.

"Eat" he commands, voice thick and rough. You smirk, giving it a bite as you look into his eyes: hair disheveled, puffy lips and droopy eyes. The bite mark seems to shine, or maybe you need to lay down for a while. "Y no mires atrás, ¿sí? We got ourselves a crowd" (don't look back, yeah?)

That night, you upload a story with a picture of the dessert with a caption that reads: best meal I've ever had. The context is lost until news of your bathroom affairs hit headlines next morning, but you don't notice: your phone happens to be dead, and you're too busy getting railed in what could count as round two to charge it.

pompeiianbollockr: hello just woke up and saw the pictures WTF TMZ??? did they really do #that 😭 bring back public shaming unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they fucked in that fancy ass restroom ㅤㅤmostannoyingbillioner: unhing3dprincess QUEEN U ARE BACK 😭 BETTING UR GRANDMA AGAIN? OH IKTR WE WERE LOOSING THE ANCIENT TEXTS poppysplayground: ohhhhh they're so nasty (do u want a third) ㅤㅤann-gell: poppysplayground fr like INVITEN

The interview for Entertainment Weekly's behind the cover for Gladiator II was supposed to just include Paul and Pedro, but taking advantage of the free publicity and buzz your announcement made, they added you. Especially after the news about your restroom affair had hit, courtesy of TMZ; the rumor wasn't taken into account in the beginning, but now added gasoline to the gossip fire. Just what the movie needed: free promo.

You're sat in the middle of the two men, dressed in white as well, to match their attires with a flowy dress that loosely resembles that of Rome's. Then, Paul begins to speak.

"I saw the film for the first time when I was about 13 with my dad" he talks about the original movie.

"I saw it in the movie theater when it came out" you imagine a young Pedro lined up to see Russell Crowe's magnetic performance and let out a small smile. "I saw it twice, because of how emotional the movie was. Obviously it's incredibly visceral, and epic and the kind of movie you rarely get to see made, uh, these days"

You look at him, elbow resting on the arm chair as your body is all turned to his side. Truth is, you love listening to him, especially when he seems so invested, love for the subject rooted in each word.

Pedrito, you'd affectionally call. Ésto es una conversación, no un monólogo. And he'd blush embarrased, only for you to laugh it off, saying you would turn mute if that meant for him to continue speaking. (this is a conversation, not a monologue)

"It had an impact emotionally. I remember that, I guess, sadistically I was drawn to a second time go back again because, weirdly, it was very comforting. I remember it perfectly came out in year 2000. Right?" he asks, and Paul and you agree with a yeah. "I can remember what theater I was in and everything-"

"What theater was it?" Paul interrupts his passionate talking.

Pedro stops, "It, uh-" he rambles, before you all laugh.

"What about you, y/n? Were you even born?" Paul jokes, making you roll your eyes at his antics and deliberate desire to keep nagging you like some older annoying brother.

"I was like, born a year after you, Paul. But I didn't watch the movie until I was fifteen" you feel the gaze of both men fall upon you. "The first Ridley Scott movie I watched was Thelma and Louise, as you all know. Then my dad insisted I should watch it, and finally, at fifteen, when I had given up on my dreams to go on one last epic trip to the Grand Canyon, he played it. My eyes, they were, like, glued to the screen. I couldn't stop thinking about it for a while" you leave a small lingering touch on Pedro's arm, "just like he said: epic and emotional. Also, I had a huge fat crush in Joaquin Phoenix that lasted until I was twenty"

"That was like, seven years ago!" Pedro yells, making Paul snorts. "I feel deceived"

"Qué dramático. We're both married, you big baby!" you laugh, then make a joke before the next conversation starts: "You wouldn't think he plays an epic Roman General, would you?" (how dramatic)

They film some shots of you and the boys before moving to the next talk.

"I was doing a play in London at the time. I'd met with Doug and Lucy who are the producers of the film in LA, and then a zoom was set up and I spoke to Ridley for about 5 minutes about what Gladiator was going to be about. And then we spoke for the next 25 minutes about like, gaic football and dogs, and then I thought we'd do like camera tests and- but no, he just-" he shrugs. "I found out about two weeks later"

Now it's Pedro's turn.

"I knew that the project existed. I knew that Paul was doing it. I think it started with an actual like meeting with Ridley to go and sit down with him and I, whether or not the movie was going to happen for me or not, I was like I'm going to go meet Ridley Scott" he jokes, making you both chuckle. "It wasn't even about getting the job, it was like I'm going to go and sit down maybe five minutes, ten, twenty, as many minutes as I can"

"It was in LA" you speak up, "in his offices"

"Yeah, and thankfully he was willing to talk about all the things I wanted to know about, in terms of other movies, and that's what it really turned into"

"He's a wonderful Storyteller" Mescal compliments. "You could sit down with Ridley for-"

Pedro makes a joke, speaking over him. "Give me another one, give me another one-"

You still kind of hate the guy after his supposed comments on your husband's weight, but won't talk bad about a man who gave you work and your biggest role to the date yet, so you explain how it happened to you.

"I wasn't even planned to appear on the movie. As a matter of fact, my character was squeezed in last minute. Ridley is, just as they said, indeed, a storyteller" you smile. "The truth is, I worked with Cuba, his granddaughter, on a proyect together, a photography one. I was in London at the time, auditioning for a movie, when we met"

"London?" Paul asks.

"Yes" you laugh, ashamed. "I traveled to London with some of my savings, because you know what they say about not doing and then regretting. But I do regret it; I cried for my money to be back!"

"You didn't get the part" Pedro adds, barely containing a snicker.

"I didn't" you sigh, "Cuba saw me sitting alone on a café, eyes red with tears of failure and talked me into capturing such vulnerable moment. She didn't know me but made my day better, and she took some of the most beautiful pictures I've seen of myself. So, in a way, I won. I mean, she's the reason I got the role: my name came up on a phone call with Scott, as I had already made a name for myself, and showed him the pictures. He got in contact with my agent and I got the role after auditioning. Call that friendship nepotism"

"Didn't Pedro tell you about it? I find it funny that he was in the movie and didn't get you in" Paul comments, curiously.

"We were supposed to remain a secret, and the sudden connection when we had barely interacted according to the public, would've been weird. So no, Pedro rubbed his role on my face and then I came home with the new script as he received his. We both won our roles separately, and until we got it both, we realized just what it would mean"

"But now we're here" Pedro speaks fondly, taking your hand. "Rome conquers it all"

You can only hold his and stare back lovingly.

"Oh" the Irish man feigns disgust, "don't get all lovey dovey on me!"

The topic changes again, as Paul speaks.

"We meet early in the film, and this is again kind of Ridley's genius. He shoots it in a way that it feels plausible, but in like- the real action of that there's no way-"

They start talking ovwe each other excitedly about the process of filmaking, Pedro listing all the settings were the epic action takes place.

"We lock eyes" Pedro jests, "we lock eyes"

"All right" Paul plays along. "Three, two, one"

"i'm right here" you say, pushing your body to the front. "You got me third wheeling in my own marriage"

Paul laughs, breaking contact.

"Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine. You've made the rest of this press tour unbearable!" he protests, but his tone is devoid of complain.

"Marcus Acacius represents like-" Mescal then speaks about your husband's character, "he's a Roman general"

"No, he is the general of Rome" you correct, smirking.

"Be careful, princess. Don't let the emperor see you all over his General" the blue-eyed man next to you mocks, and you roll your eyes again.

"Will you ever let me live?"

Paul then talks about his character. "I'm like a lieutenant in the numidian Army. I kind of see Acacius as this, he- he represents everything that I hate about, uh, the Roman Empire"

"Well, the Roman Empire is expanding and expanding" Pedro takes the word, "and invading Numidia just to gain more and more power, and we realize that there really is kind of no ceiling to the lust of that power"

"And that's to do with the Emperors, right? Like, played by Joe and Fred who are wonderful" Paul adds, complimenting both actors in the process. "And let's not forget our Empress too"

You make a face at that, feeling in the need to defend your character.

"Empress Alba is tragedy. I think she embodies well the feelings of helpnessless all women felt during that time. She's an object, another shiny possesion subjected to her husband's amusement, so she drowns in all pleasure available to forget her existence. Lucius hates her because he sees all the filth of Rome in her, like, this whole debauchery and squandering while the people beg for scraps. But it's a pattern seen across history, isn't it?" you pause. "I think it's interesting to compare her to Lucilla, because she's loved by the people, seen as human- despite being noble. It's sad because it's until too late that Lucius realizes she's a victim of the system he hates"

Pedro smiles at your little intervention, loving the way you explain a character you'd play so graciously. One of your favorite movies is Marie Antoinette, by Sofia Coppola, so probably it felt personal to you in some level. God, hadn't you made him watch it at least ten times?

"It unravels through the film that I've kind of miscalculated who I think Acacius is, just as with Alba" Paul comments.

"His character misunderstands my character just like Paul misunderstands us" Pedro quips, making both of you laugh.

"Then it kind of culminates in a big fight that we have in the-"

"Doesn't it always?" you add. "Wouldn't be an epic without it"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Paul dares, jokingly.

"No we're not talking about it" he cuts him off.

"Who's the better fighter'" Paul asks after some silence. Pedro dares him with a go on.

"I would say I'm better the better share. What you think?"

"I would say Lucius is the better fighter"

"Lucius is the better fighter" Pedro repeats slowly, incredulous. "Do you want us to fight? Lucius is a better fighter than the general of Rome, who survived decades and conquered" Paul tries to defend himself but Pedro doesn't let him. "I fight four men before I get you, and I call it off!"

"Yeah, but I think if you hadn't called it off -"

"You don't think I would have do some sort of mature aged learning-"

They end up discussing a bit more until you clear your throat.

"Why don't you ask for a third party to break your tie?" and you point towards yourself, mouthing a cute me with your painted pink lips.

"No!" Paul immediatly opposes, "It would be biased, silence her!"

"Have you seen Acacius' arms?" you gauge Pedro's arms, biceps flexing under the white attire. "It definitely isn't biased, at all"

The conversation carries on after some more shots. In some, you pose seriously, but in between such, you laugh along with them, Pedro even hugging you and Paul from behind in one of both. No kisses yet, but you know fans will be rabid just with the lingering touches and flirty undertones in your interactions.

"We began together in Morocco, and I think seeing that set and the scale of the production so quickly, desensitized me to the scale of the of what- Malta was in the Coliseum, and Ridley moves at such a pace, which I actually think really helped me because you don't have time to kind of sit there and and kind of bask in the wonder of it" Paul talks. "Because you're shooting three or four scenes, build your expectations of how to meet the size of, it or anything 'cuz 'cause it's impossible" Paul looks at Pedro and asks: "and I think Ridley; did I tell you what Ridley said first day of shooting to me? He came out to the tent while they were dressing the set, thousands of extras, everything fire, camels and he comes in, and he's- he's smoking a cigar, and we're all stood around and he's like Are you nervous? and we're all like No and he slaps me on the back and goes Your nerves are no good to me, before we filmed anything. But I think it was like- it's funny, but it's this idea that this is your playground, and you have to kind of step into it and own it. So, I-I don't actually really remember my first walking into the Coliseum, 'cause I feel like I lived in the Coliseum for about three or four weeks"

"You lived in the Coliseum of your mind" Pedro quips, making Paul laugh.

"I do remember, you know, when I first walked into the Coliseum, you know. It- it gave me chills. Like, literally chills. Look! I still get the goosebumps" you point your arm. "Honestly, all of it felt just too real, and I couldn't help but for a moment, think I actually was in Rome- that I belonged to nobility"

Pedro takes your hand and kisses it gently. "That's because you do, princesa"

"One of the things that I have never experienced on a movie before, is that there was so little left to the imagination" Pedro expresses. "Me and the rest of the ensemble are together in the emperor's box, and there's this enormous battle that's taking place, and Ridley composed all of the off camera for us in the emperor's box, with Paul leaping from one ship to another taking two men down what would you call that?"

"A cloth line flying" Paul answers.

"Clothes line?" you try.

"A flying- a flying clothes line" Pedro decides, carrying on "just so that we could know what we were looking at. I couldn't f*****g believe it"

"That's true" you remark. "The result goes so hard- I mean, it looks amazing" you sheepily laugh. "The action, the violence, the epic... it all shines through. It just- it makes sense"

The conversation shifts again.

"The legacy of the first film is so profound, and has such a strong place in so many people's, like, hearts and minds, it's inescapable, but I was looking at it- and I was like" Paul shares. "The screenplay does a lot of that work for you in terms of like, the rubbing the dirt between the hands. the kind of DNA and the genetics that Lucius inherits. I remember reading the script and there's like, a moment in the script where it's Lucius puts on the breastplate and it's written like Lucius now becomes Maximus"

"But Lucius, despite being a son, is also a man" you counter. "He isn't Maximus"

Paul agrees.

"I kind of tried to park that to one side, because ultimately, where Lucius is coming from at the start of the film, he has a very different journey than Maximus does, and I was hoping that whatever DNA- and even just the physical gestures, was going to be one part of- a kind of small part of the performance" he explains. "What I tried to do is figure out exactly who Lucius was and where those differences lay between Lucius and Maximus"

"One of the things that I loved most about my character is that he's introduced in the beginning of the movie, in this very epic battle sequence, that I think in its own way homages the first film" Pedro shares. "But even better, because we follow him back to Rome and discover his direct connection to one of the only characters that is living and with us from the first movie, and I loved being a a kind of thread, an invitation, into what we know from the first movie by being Connie Nielsen's man"

Paul looks at you silently, before poking your side: "Someone is real quiet with that comment"

You narrow your eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"I am Connie Nielsen's man as Marcus Acacius, but as Pedro Pascal, I'm all y/n's"

Your face goes red at how easily you are to be understood, your husband answering just what you wanted to listen.

"Ha! Look at your face, I was right!" Paul ridiculises you.

But after such an embarrasing moment, he shifts the conversation again.

"There's a moment where Pedro has this, uh- it's so clever from a- from an acting standpoint, but also in the in the script like, you see this brutalizing Force come into Numidia, and there's this section where there's the burning of the bodies, and that it's one of my favorite shots in the film" Paul muses. "It's this closeup on Pedro, when he says Vae Victis to the conquered, and you feel like it's a really difficult thing to communicate in one line, that you see: Oh, this General is, kind of wearing this responsibility with great difficulty and shame"

"I wasn't doing that at all" your husband deadpans. You stiffle a giggle.

"You were very good in it" Paul argues back with a smile.

"That wasn't what I was playing" he insists, serious but Paul asks What were you playing? and you all laugh.

"If I had a favorite scene, I'd say it'd be naval fight" you mention. "The colliseum is filled with water, and it's this- it feels like a thing that has never been done before, and with the people cheering and the buzz, and the announcement and echo of the drumming, it's as if you were there, in the crowd. The tension is palpable, the violence is thrown at your face but the scariest one, is the one that lies underneath. Uh, Lucius character tries to attack the General while we, you know, the royals and especial guests, are sitting at our box, and he gets so close, it serves, I think the bottom climbing the ladder to bite the ankles of the top. Obviously, that before we know who Lucius actually is, but I think it's kind of cool"

The interview is ending, the last of your twelve-minute conversation being filmed now.

"I am really excited for everyone to see Paul" Pedro beams, making the younger one laugh. "I'm sorry but it has to be said. You are sensational in the movie" then adds, "and pretty easy on the eyes"

"Everyone in this movie is easy in the eyes" you quip, looking at your side. Pedro coughs a bit before speaking again, even if a faint blush is coating his cheeks.

"-And he worked so hard, and I got to see that happen like, in front of me, and on the day and just lead with Ridley, this enormous crew and this enormous cast... To get to see that, on the big screen, is really exciting and I think people are going to- they're going to love it"

"That's very kind" you exclaim softly with a smile, then add. "I'm sure of it, especially if you were a fan of the first. Both are very interwined, although each film is its own thing" you comment.

"For a lot of us, the actors, we haven't worked on a film on that scale" you violently shake your head "and I think, there's a little bit of trauma bonding that went on with, kind of having to- kind of feel like, total impostor syndrome within it all. But to see your friends operate at that level on a film of that scale, doing like incredible work. I think, across the board, I haven't seen a film on this scale for a long long time rhat's rooted it has the scale and the performances, and I personally think it's one of Ridley's greatest pieces of work"

senhoritamayblog: y/n was SO REAL holding pedro's arm and talking abt how he'd beat paul bc he's beefy ME WHEN moltisantiii: you know what i think ridley's greatest piece of work is? giving us this trio youlooklike-clarabow: y/n is truly a princess 🥹 i don't know if i want to be y/n to be with pedro or pedro to be with y/n ㅤㅤann-gell: youlooklike-clarabow well, she's the people's princess after all!

You haven't even left the room when Pedro is all over you, kissing your neck on that sweet spot of yours that elates a little breathy whine. Doesn't he know you well?

"What are you doing?" you manage to squeak out as his needy big hands grope your body, flesh soft under the flowy white dress. He grunts when he catches your panties, embarrasingly wet already at just a few sloppy kisses and eager touches.

"What do you think?" he whispers against your ear as you both try to walk away from where voices can be heard, and then Pedro is guiding you to a room, closing the door behind him. If he was able to walk to the room while kissing you, he must've seen it in a passing. Had your husband plan this all along? Greedy needy old man.

"What I think, baby, is you're forgetting something" you push him off, giggling. He makes a little pout, making it hard to keep your ground. "Now that everyone knows we're married and we suddenly both go misteriously missing at the same time, they'll just put two and two together. I mean, does it really take a smart person to figure it out?"

Pedro doesn't back down, still caging your frame against the locked door.

"So?" his annoyed and tense voice only makes you laugh more. That turned on was he? Pedro seems annoyed at your fit of laughter, his pants tight.

"What do you mean so? We almost got caught by Paul last time!" you chuckle amused. "And, are you seriously going to pretend TMZ didn't air our bussiness just about last week?"

"Well, maybe you should've thought about it before" he goes back at the task of attacking your mouth, words spewing in between hungry kisses. You mouth a little taunting innocent looking Before what? and then Pedro is talking while his gaze is glued to yours, tightening his arms around you, and the answer is just about that. "You should've thought about it before getting all flirty with me, grabbing my arm in front of the camera like the naughty girl you are. So fucking needy you can't hide it for a few hours, can't even go through an interview without touching me, looking at me, being possesive at a fictional marriage even" your face burns hot with embarrasment at that. Oh, was he being nasty on purpose? Why bring that up? "Haven't I taught you manners?"

It's hard to force yourself to hold his gaze while standing still. Taunting. Defiant.

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you chastise, "do you want people to know we are raw dogging in the dressing room? That's the manners you so badly talk about"

His face goes red, his demostrations stopping for a bit as he studies your now serious face.

"Wait, do you want to raw dog in the dressing room?" he gasps at the boldness in your words, which, to be fair, is kind of exaggerated, as you both have said worst stuff before. "That's not what I had in mind"

"That's not?" you arch an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. You can't just kiss my neck greedily and touch my body eagerly like a goddamn starved horny idiot, and then expect me to not act up on it, you old man"

There's silence before he speaks up again. "Y/n, you talked about manners"

You take a deep breath in, making sure the door is actually locked.

"Well, fuck them manners"

You capture his lips on a hungry kiss, same kind of force you had made fun of him, just minutes ago. He's pushing his tongue inside of you, as his hands move up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and his big calloused hands pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same.

"Manners maketh man" he's reciting, and such stupid proverb and line from one of his old works shouldn't turn you this much. Pedro lifts up the dress until your body is devoid of the cotton, murmuring about how unfair it was for you to taunt him with translucent cloth, tender flesh hiding under the white. So hard to focus on interviews, mami, when you're close to me or something like that, as you're too lost in the fire. No bra? Fuck, baby. Do you want to kill me?

"Sofa" you command, eyes darting to the furniture so you can show him where. "Now"

You take off your panties in a go, revealing the slick that's just a few seconds from running down your legs.

"I see, my legs won't be the only thing drooling" you mock his agape mouth. He takes off the blazer with shaking hands, sitting as you get on top of him. Pedro kisses his way down your neck, sucking on the skin. How will you get out of here without comfirming suspicions? Surely, there must be something inside here that could be of help.

"Well, I've wanted to do this for a while" he mumbles against the now red patches of before honey-ed skin. Again? you think.

"Have me or fuck again in public?" you ask out loud, and even if you're laughing, there's a layer of fondness in your voice. "I'm starting to wonder if you have an exhibition kink, papi"

He breathes a little no before biting right above your collarbones, his tongue then releaving the pain with a wet slick move over the flesh as you let out a whine.

"Busy schedule, mami. A husband's gotta find a way to make time for his pretty wife, even if it means fucking her in the goddamn dressing room" he says into your ear. Pedro had done more interviews than you, and between that and filming for his other projects, he's right. "So what if they find out? Need them to know who you belong to. I'm just a devoted husband, will you punish me for that?"

You caress his face, pristine hair now disheveled, the gel succumbing to the heat and sweat trapped in the room.

"Look at you, naughty boy. El burro hablando de orejas" you laugh, "but of course I won't. Need you too so bad" (look who's talking)

His finger wanders down to your pussy, big hand roaming around the area. His middle and ring finger run over it, the golden band starting to shine with your arousal. Fuck, that just made you wetter.

"Shit, baby. You're so eager... wasn't lying when you talked before"

"Needed you since you kissed me today, when you woke up" your teeth grit at his lingering digits. "Your dick rubbed against my bare thigh, fucking hard"

Truth is, you're always horny; being married to Pedro Pascal does that to you. But mornings? Waking up to that handsome face and girthy dick? You really be testing yourself sometimes.

"Jesus, mami" he whistles. "So fucking dirty, thinking about me all the interview because my morning wood grazed your skin, you dirty naughty girl"

Pedro finally slides his fingers inside of you, making you squirm under his gaze as your back archs. "So fucking beautiful, can't believe you're all mine" he moans and you squeeze his shoulders, nails digging and bruising his skin under the shirt that sticks to his skin, body heating up like a furnace.

"Please, Pedro" you plead, lip biting your under to supress a whimper. "Please curl your fingers, need to have you- feel you inside. Fuck-"

Your words cut off as he moves his fingers with learned ease, his thumb rubbing your clit as a treat.

"Mmm" you murmur with pleasure, back arched again, your tits too dangerously close to his face. Without much thought, he licks your nipple and then devours the whole breast with his mouth. All while looking at you, this absolute horndog. Your nails dig in deeper as you pronounce his name in a shaky exhale. Wanting more. Begging for more.

"Mmm? That's right" his palm on your waist squeezes lightly, more pressure on his grip. "Can't speak 'cause I'm making you feel so good, huh?"

You don't answer, instead throwing your head back, nails digging deep to the point he winces, making a face by the pain. You mouth an apology, but then he licks your nipple again, and teeth move to your nibble your earlobe―you're not sorry anymore.

"S-stop" you choke out, body shivering.

"What? Can't take what you asked for? No muerdas más de lo que puedes masticar, niña mala. Bad girl" (don't bite off more than you can chew, bad girl)

His lewd words elicit another moan out of you.

"I-I can. In fact, I want- no, need more. I don't want to cum on your fingers" you whisper in his ear, hot breath probably why he shivers. "Pull down your pants, pretty boy, because I want to cum on your dick"

"Fuck, mami. What a dirty mouth" he moans.

Eager hands try to lower his pants as your fiddle with the same feel, the borrowed wardrobe struggling to get off in the current position. His underwear goes next, and you squirm as he aligns his tip with your dripping entrance.

You moan and he grunts, as his dick enters your tight folds, sounds clashing onto each other as so do your bodies, fitting perfectly. His hands travel from your waist to ass, his head against the back of the sofa, your hands that were before on his shoulders now on his chest.

"Such a pretty view you're giving me, wifey" he tries to laugh, but the sound comes out strained along each powerful stride of his cock that buries inside of you, each bouncing harder, his hands pathethically running over your ass, back, hips, and legs, as his eyes devour the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, tongue burning with desire to suck on the skin again. "So beautiful, and all mine. Only mine. Mía"

His words drip with devotion and wordship; all the love in the world. Pedro calls you beautiful, goddess, and a string of spanish words crossed with adoration. Mami. Linda. Princesa. Diosa. Hermosa. It has your orgasm looming over, head spinning and pussy stretched, walls tightening.

"I'm close" you whisper, riding him with soft-paced movements as his turn sloppy.

You see stars, walls almost kicking his dick out as you coat it in your slick, arousal dripping down until it's coated his balls and smeared the white attire. Fuck. Now Pedro's moving his waist, hunting for his own orgasm.

"Me too" he breathes out, "stay with me"

His hands travel sloppily to your waist, lazily holding you still with his calloused digits.

"Quick, baby" you breath out, "I'm sensitive"

"I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer" then a whine before shakily pleading. "Please, please, just wait for me"

You move your hips slowly, aroused by his needy pleads, robbing a moan out of him. "Cute" you praise, making his cheeks redden with sweat and blush.

He is cute: hair messed up, mouth red and puffy, and brown puppy eyes.

"I love you so much" Pedro let's out, and it sounds like a confession, despite being married for so long.

"I know, baby, I know" you reach for his face, removing some sweat beads from his forehead, and he leans on the touch, closing his eyes as another gutural growl erupts from his chest. "I love you too"

You keep on riding until you feel his dick twitch inside of your walls.

"We need to stop doing this" you pant out.

"Too late for that, bonita. At least no one found out this time" Pedro laughs. "But you like the talk, don't you? Gonna give 'em something to talk about" he pants, "will fill you up so good you won't be able to walk without my seed spilling from you" sweat beads from your face fall onto his. He obscenely licks the salty drops. "Te voy a dar tantos hijos, que no cabrán en la casa. That way they will know you're mine" (will give you so many kids, they won't fit in the house)

You moan loufly, folds now coated on thick ropes of hot cum, as his movements come to a stop, slowing down until all that can be heard is your uneven breaths trying to recover.

And on cue, there's a knock at the door. Shit. You both remain silent, as if it would stop, but the knocking turns persistent.

"Pedro, I know you're in there"

It's Paul freaking Mescal, again. You might just have to invite him next time if he keeps showing up like that.

"Should I go?" Pedro whispers, and you shrug, stating it would be weirder to pretend he wasn't if Paul knew he was. "How do I look?"

You eye him up and down, eye glistening with dissaproval, red cheeks giving away your thoughts as if the furrowed eyebrows and ashamed gaze didn't already.

"We are fucked"

"No" he giggles, "we just fucked"

"That's not funny!" you roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest. "Please, look into the mirror and try to fix yourself a bit. If not, we're doomed to be remembered as a horny couple. Oh, we were going so well! Fans will make fun of us and the press will call us horndogs" you lament, exaggerating your voice.

"Oh, shush. We wanted to be able to be in public. This is what it feels like"

You blush. "Maybe we can reduce the public aspect a bit..."

Pedro snorts before doing a quick fix to his appearance, walking to the door where Mescal patiently waits behind. Oh, of course; that little fucker. After the TMZ news dropped, he connected the dots and know that whatever happened in that trailer when Pedro told him to fuck off, wasn't holy at all. Now, he's probably laughing or scheming.

"Paul!" Pedro opens the door. "W-what's up?"

The younger man does a quick scan of his friend, barely able to hide a laugh.

"Looking radiant, my friend" he answers with a shit-eating grin. "They need to do some re-shootings. Have you happen to seen y/n? She just keeps dissappearing when you- oh, when you do!" he mocks. "Well, if you ever happen to find y/n, tell her you both need to get a good fix unless y'all want to show up on TMZ again. I'm pretty sure you can find something in this dressing room to cover those marks, yeah?"

He finally breaks down laughing in front of Pedro's shocked face.

"Ah, you guys are the absolute worst" he folds in a fit of laughter, "so fucking horny you end up fucking in bathrooms and dressing rooms!"

Your voice can be heard from inside as you growl, face red with fury and shame:

"Hijo de puta" (son of a bitch!), "don't make me bring Daisy Edgar-Jones into this!"

l-u-n-a-m: they're just milking their relationship atp for promo but i'm not complaining need more pictures of the photoshoot NOW vnightx: istg if they don't stop flirting in front of my single ass face. i need a gun at0michips: have i gone insane or does pedro have love bites ㅤㅤmybritishstyle: MI HIJO DOES NOT HAVE LOVE BITES. HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS

*i'm never gonna call twitter as X. it's still twitter, and will always be. fuck that ugly bigot filthy billionaire hoe called elon-trump-cocksucker-musk.

#dilfistwrites #gladiator II #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #taylor swift #reputation #call it what you want #paul mescal

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princesssmars · 3 days ago

Text

so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.

#shaboingboing #3k words...drabble right...#arcane #arcane x reader #vi #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x reader smut #vi smut

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moonstruckme · 3 days ago

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Hi Mae! I was in a car accident yesterday (car took most of the damage, I’m ok other than bruises and sore muscles) and the whole thing has been a whirlwind of insurance and hospital and half asleep crying. I was wondering if I could request James potter x reader for comfort in a situation like that? I’m going through it rn lol hope you’re having a good day :)

Oh I'm sorry lovely! I had a very similar thing happen a little over a year ago, it's sooooo exhausting even when luckily no one is seriously hurt. Thanks for requesting, hope you're having a good/better day too <33

cw: past car accident, no details but talk of general aftermath of police questioning, insurance, etc.

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 799 words

The way James half-jogs up to the automatic doors of the hospital, seeming caught between walking and running, feels like someone is pressing down on the bruise of your chest. You wish you’d called him sooner.

“James,” you call as he comes in, hating how your voice cuts through the taut quiet of the waiting area. It’s worth it for how his whole self softens when his eyes find you.

He slows to a fast walk the rest of the way to you, the urgency slowly leaving him—which is appropriate, there is no urgency, everything has happened already—like an engine running out of gas. You stand as he nears, and both of you reach for each other before James hesitates. His hands stop midair, his brow tightening for a moment, before they come tentatively to your elbows.

“Hi,” he says, squeezing. “How bad is it?”

“For me or the car?” you joke.

“You.” James is feeling too earnest for joking, it seems. “Well, both of you. But you first.”

You really thought you’d cry when you saw him. Worried you’d make a whole scene, blubbering and inconsolable, but you don’t seem to have any tears left. It makes sense, you suppose; you’ve cried a lot in the past few hours. First the slow, shaky kind right after getting out of your car, and then a real cry when a police officer had pulled you aside to get your version of events. (It had been embarrassing. She’d been nice about it, though.) Now, you wait for the tears to come, but for all your relief at seeing your boyfriend you feel rather dried up.

It makes you wish, once again, that you’d called James sooner. You’d wanted to, of course, but you’d been nearly certain you’d be even less capable of holding yourself together if he were there, and there wasn’t much reason for him to be anyways. He was at work and you weren’t terribly hurt, so there was really nothing he could have done while you were talking to the police and the tow company and the paramedics and attempting not to drown in an overwhelm of insurance information. The only thing you really wanted him for was to hold your hand.

“I’m okay,” you say, the necessary preface. “A bit bruised up. My chest got the worst of it.”

Unconsciously, your hand comes to your sternum as if to demonstrate, gravitating towards the center of the ache. James’ hand follows, seemingly just as thoughtless as it covers your own. He can’t see the bruise, but he makes a low, sad sound anyway.

His care softens your voice. “They said my neck will probably hurt tomorrow, but it doesn’t yet.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” James sounds really, truly heartbroken for you. “And the rest, it hurts a lot?”

You shrug. What’s a lot? You know you could’ve had worse, much worse; still, you could do without that frightening soreness that comes with each breath.

“It’s not too bad,” you say. “I could still hug.”

It’s the question he’s been dying to ask, clearly. James’ arms are around you in a second, ardent but still gentle, palms pressing to the high and low points of your bag. It’s a good hug. You melt a little against him.

James tucks his face into the side of your neck, like he’s trying to get as much contact with you as he can. “I wish you’d called me when it happened.”

“You were at work.”

“I’d have left work.”

“There wasn’t anything you could do. I was fine, I just had to…” a little sigh escapes you, exhaustion creeping in now that he’s here “...talk to people. Insurance and all that.”

James makes a soft, half-agreeing sound. His thumb strokes the base of your neck. “Still. I could have held your hand.”

A new ache rises in the back of your throat, coming to join the rest. You wind your arms tighter around James.

After a few, silent moments, he kisses your neck chastely and loosens his hold. “Ready to go home? Anything else you need?”

You shake your head. “I’m signed out,” you say, so eager you feel like you could float out the doors. You hope you can entice James to lie in bed with you when you get home. You think you’ll sleep until tomorrow. “Let’s go, please.”

“Alright, you don’t have to say please, sweetheart.” James curls an arm around your shoulders, pressing a smile into your cheek. “We can go. You need one of those wheelchairs for me to take you out to the car?”

“Ha ha,” you say drily. “No.”

“Just checking. Think maybe I ought to ask for one, just in case?”

“James. I will take your car home without you in it.”

“Alright, lovie, I’m coming.”

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cherie-doll · 3 days ago

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Hi! I hope you’re doing really, really well, beautiful. So, I was wondering if you could write something about what the COD guys would be like on their wedding day. Maybe how their weddings would go—whether they’d be big or small, or where they’d get married? I’ll leave it up to your imagination. Thanks so much!!!🤍💌^^

what a lovely thing to imagine <3

(sorry i am getting to these so late, i've been so incredibly busy bc i forget that im somehow an adult and i have to do adult things, there's just kind of a lot on my plate rn, if only y’all could see the mess my desk is in with trying to write and the paperwork everywhere but this was so fun to write tysm for this ask <33)

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Their Wedding Day

༢ུ· Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

I'd like to think that Price would have a pretty big wedding, I mean just think of all the people he knows and has met along the years coming to celebrate this day, there's some people he's close with and even consider his family, of course they won't miss out on this opportunity to be there for him, the speeches would take forever because everyone wants to say something

He's just so happy on this day that he can't think of anything else, he doesn't care about whether the wedding is at a venue, church, barn, outdoors, he just cares that everything turns out alright, so he'll be perfectly fine if you decide to go with something simpler

If you're nervous while walking down the aisle he'll be waiting for you at the altar, smiling and looking at you the entire time, gazes meeting and transmitting a warmth and calming energy that everything has and will turn out just how you want it

He just considers himself the luckiest man alive to be able to marry you

Ghost

His wedding wouldn't be big, something on the more average/small size, he has his close friends by his side and doesn't want to bother inviting anyone else he hasn't talked to in the past year, he knows exactly who truly cares and who deserves to be there

He'd groan seeing Johnny stand up to give a speech knowing he's about to sit through some embarrassingly horrid stories this man is about to spill

That is unless you have a lot of people you know, he wouldn't be at all against you inviting your share of people to the wedding he just doesn't want the reception to last too long to the point he's feeling more drained or stressed on the joyous occasion

After the ceremony and eating he'd be fine for MAYBE three hours max before suggesting y'all sneak off and just go to your room for the night, doesn't give a single fuck that it's his wedding he's going to let the guests have their fun while you have yours a little earlier than what you planned

Soap

He'd be nervous on the day, he's standing there, nervously smiling as he fidgets with his fingers, fixing his tie, his eyes wandering about the room until he hears the crowd gasp and he looks to the other side and sees you standing there, he is in awe of how you look, and when you get to stand in front of him he tells you how breathtaking you look, you jokingly ask if you don't always look breathtaking and he responds that you look especially radiant today

He's so lost in your eyes that when he has to answer "I do" he doesn't even hear the question, his mind not registering anything other than how stunning you look, the crowd laughs when he has to snap out of it and stammer an "I do"

When he goes in for the kiss he goes a bit too far and it almost turns into a heated kiss but you have to tap his shoulder reminding him that there's probably a kid or two among the guests

He is so happy he doesn't even care who is or isn't amongst the crowd, that lame ex of yours who somehow snuck in when you didn't even invite him? He barely bats and eye at it and just pulled you close for a kiss whenever they came near

Gaz

Both of you just keep sharing deep, meaningful looks as you see all the people you're the closest with arriving, he probably gets emotional when he was trying his best trying to keep it in and not lose it while he listened to your say your vows, especially when you momentary look up at him to say it

And he's waiting for when the officiant says he can kiss you so he can reach out, one arm around your waist and another cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips just so when he pulls back you see the brightest smile on his face

I think a beach wedding would be ideal for him, idk he just seems like the outdoorsy type, and this is the best place he could come up with when asked where he'd like to get married, that or maybe in the mountains where he can see the beautiful scenery as you say yours vows

He'd love it if you watched the sunset together that day, as if nature were also sealing this promise between you, the scenery would one day serve as a nostalgic memory on which he can think back fondly of, everything from the soft breeze in the air, whether it be the sound of waves crashing as they reach his feet at the beach or the smell of pine trees in the mountainside

Roach

Omg y'all would would the cutest outdoor wedding, just imagine having it in a garden or by a beautiful lake with the golden sun that shines not in a harsh way but instead in a pleasant manner

And you both have your little quirks added in here and there, you compliment each other super well in that aspect that it's not even seen as unusual if the other references something because you totally get it

He'd have imagined this a million times, the night before he rehearsed his vows over and over again, he doesn't look up quotes or what to say, no this man lies on the floor and waits for the words to come to him, and the phrases that he writes come so naturally that he's having a hard time keeping it on only one sheet of paper

He'd probably go off the script, saying more than he intended until you're having to control yourself before you tackle and press kisses all over his face from now much you love him

He closes his eyes and feels incredibly lucky to have lived long enough to meet you and survive long enough through those missions to earn his moment of happiness that he hopes will last for the rest of his life

Alejandro

Have you heard of Mexican weddings? Anyone who finds out about the wedding is attending even if they weren’t originally invited and that last bit of dancing and drinking? It could go on until the next day

Forget getting any sleep, there is so much to stress over because the amount of people arriving could almost count for a festival itself, so much food is being prepared for all the guests that it’s overwhelming

And Alejandro would love every second of it, it’s all fun having so many people come together to celebrate and wish you all a happy marriage

The ideal place for Alejandro to get married would be at a cathedral, obviously it's only an option but it's where he's remembered weddings traditionally taking place at since he was a kid, he's always imagined it'd be him one day walking through those doors after getting married and having people throw rice at him as a newlywed

He behaves himself most of the time but as the evening turns into night his fingertips brush along your sides and you feel his breath on your nape as he whispers naughty things into your ears

Rudy

I'd like to imagine that Rudy would let you invite as many or as little people as you'd like, he wouldn't put a limit to any of it, and when you start getting stressed over wedding preparations he's able to just hold your hands in his and remind you how lucky he is to have you marry him, that anything will do and that it will all be a memory one day, so why worry and instead focus on making it a delightful one?

And after all the partying and celebrating, you're both left standing there alone in the venue, he takes your hand gently, his eyes gazing softly into yours as you dance to a song that he saved for only the two of you to dance to alone, I can imagine it being a song you listened to on the first date as he drove you home and now it's playing on your wedding day

You've probably held hands all day, from the moment you joined hands when at the altar, to walking down the aisle, to entering the dance floor for the first dance, and while you're both off to the side just sipping your drinks and still holding hands

But he wants to take a moment after all the guests have left to bask in this moment and soak in the feeling, asking you if everything turned out to your liking, just imagine laying in his arms as he holds you and you're both stargazing; a serene end to your night

Phillip Graves

The biggest, fattest wedding you can think of, everyone and their mothers are there, or in this case his Shadows and possibly anyone who's had at least one interaction with him, he's practically announcing it to the entire world

And I may be stereotypical when I say this but it's a barn wedding, the amount of times I've seen southern people go for barn weddings is insane I can't- my old riding place hosted those

It's beautiful nonetheless, he doesn't care who ends up going or not but all his Shadows are more than enthusiastic to celebrate with their boss, they've been teasing him nonstop since they found out he was dating you and now they won't stop especially since you're getting married

Tons of gifts and presents that you receive you swear you probably won't ever have to buy anything ever again, this is THE wedding that no wedding you've attended before or you'll attend in the future will ever compare to, it's that picture perfect that the venue owners ask to use the pictures on their website for advertisement

Makarov

I really feel like he'd be more the type to have it be a private wedding, that doesn't mean it isn't luxurious if anything he doesn't have a budget at all when trying to make you happy, he just leaves all the choices up to you, as long as you don't get stressed, the actual wedding planning is left to a wedding planner he hires you just have to sit there, look pretty and choose what ribbons you think would go best with the theme

As the wedding date approaches he gets more serious, and you worry he'd rethinking this whole thing or maybe he's stressed? On the day of turns out he had planned surprise after surprise for you, even though you thought you had been the one to choose most of the wedding theme and decoration turns out he himself had gone out and done a few things as well

He'd have hired a live band to play the music of your choice as you walk down the aisle, you're mesmerized by how it turned out, the adornments make the place look beautiful, but while you're admiring all this you don't notice him looking at you, you're the most extraordinary person he's met and he'll get to spend the rest of his life with you

Keegan

You guys eloped, originally the plan had been for a small, private wedding, you already had the list of people you would invite, but halfway through planning it you both stopped, looked at each other and just threw the plan away, you married with an officiant and two witnesses who happened to walk by

Even if people told you that you would later regret not having planned and waited for a big wedding you're the happiest you've ever been in this moment, the excitement rushing through not only yours but his veins that make every small detail seem perfect in this moment

People are probably wondering if you're both insane as you run together hand in hand down the streets, laughing and just happy that you're being carefree in this moment, just two souls in the expanse of this universe who have formed a deep connection in one another, what's not to be joyful about?

The future may be uncertain but it doesn't matter to neither of you, you've both had your difficult times but you deserve your happy epilogue

König

He's not one for big weddings, he cares more about the quality of it, which means he's very picky at the people who'll attend, he knows that at these events people tend to try and have their way when it's not even theirs, he simply doesn't want to deal with any unpleasant surprises when people he doesn't even know show up

When you appear he thinks there is no heaven greater than the one he is experiencing now, he thinks about all the chances there were before and now fortunate he is to meet you in your time and find each other when the world is so vast and time is fleeting

The vows he says in front of everyone are different from the ones he says only for you to hear in private that night, that's when he truly gets to be honest and say what he couldn't in front of all those people

There are many lovers in the world but none like you

Horangi

He's super passive about everything, you're sort of annoyed that he can never be bothered to worry about anything as much you do, colors for the wedding theme? He just shrugs and says a horrid color combination that could never work, it took him a three minutes max to choose what he would wear, BUT THEN on the day of when you're both in your separate rooms getting ready he's trying to get himself together because he's so overwhelmed by all the emotions he's experiencing right now

I think overall the wedding wouldn't be neither too big nor small, just the right amount of people from his side that are family members who have supported or come around to support him on this occasion and members he's close to

He's able to pull himself together though and try not to let his emotions get the best of him, he gets quite into the dancing along with you he swears he's never before felt as alive in the moment, he's grateful he was able to get his life together for you

Nikto

He wouldn't say anything about how he wants the wedding to be, whether it's big or small that's up to you, he doesn't care who you invite either, just as long as his favorite foods are served and he gets to enjoy good music for a little while before heading home with you is all that matters, oh and drinks, don't forget the alcohol

At some point throughout the night he sits back and watches as you dance with a friend of family member of yours and he thinks how funny it is that he ended up marrying you, when he first met you he couldn't have imagined that a single interaction with you could have let to this lifechanging moment

He can sleep calmly with you by his side, in his arms, safe and with no one to harm you if he's there, he may not admit it but this marriage only means he'll be like velcro to your side, that line he had always dreamed of securing? It'd be hard to get away from him

As long as this world continues he'll gladly be stuck with you, you've accepted him not matter how broken and scarred he is and he'll spend the rest of his life demonstrating with acts how much you mean to him, after all, it is the little things and acts in life that have made it truly worth living

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gf2bellamy · 2 days ago

Note

Hello, I hope you're having a lovely day. If it's okay, could I please request a Spencer reid x reader where the reader (who is Reid's work colleague) has gos on a date but gets stood up. Spencer happens to be going to the same restaurant and sees that the reader has been stood up to he pretends to be their date, and then the reader and Spencer confess their feelings for each other.

Please of course feel free to ignore, have a lovely day.

stood up — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of being hungry a/n: thank you for your request !! i hope you like this <3 ( i won't lie i giggled and kicked my legs a couple of times while writing this )

You drummed your fingers against the smooth surface of the table, the rhythmic tapping the only thing grounding you as the lump in your throat grew tighter. You blinked rapidly, trying to push back the sting of tears that threatened to spill.

Crying over this wasn’t worth it—you were an FBI agent, for god’s sake. You had seen and dealt with worse. But somehow, sitting here alone, waiting for someone who wasn’t going to show, felt like a different kind of cruelty.

Your day off was rare, something you didn’t take for granted. You had been looking forward to this—good food, good company.

Instead, you were left picking at the corner of the menu with nothing but a half-full glass of water in front of you.

A waitress passed by, offering you a small, knowing smile, the kind that made your chest ache even more.

You hated that look—the one that said, Oh, sweetheart, I’ve seen this happen before. You could almost hear her inner monologue: Poor thing, all dressed up, waiting for someone who clearly wasn't about to show up.

Your stomach growled, reminding you that despite your sour mood, you were still human. You had planned to indulge, to enjoy yourself, but now the thought of eating alone made your appetite vanish.

The door chimed as someone entered, and you glanced up out of instinct, heart foolishly clinging to hope. But it wasn’t your date. Just another happy couple, the kind of people who didn’t have to wonder if they were worth showing up for.

Five minutes later, the door opened again, but this time, you didn’t bother looking. You sighed, reaching into your bag to grab your wallet. At the very least, you needed to pay for the water and leave a tip—the waitress had been kind, even though you had done nothing but take up space.

Then, you heard it.

A voice—one you knew as well as your own heartbeat.

“Hey.”

You froze.

Slowly, you lifted your head, and there he was.

Dr. Spencer Reid stood beside your table, his gaze soft, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was intruding or rescuing you from an evening gone wrong.

“Hi,” you said, your voice small. It felt like the only appropriate response, though you weren’t sure what else to say.

Spencer hesitated, shifting his weight slightly as he glanced between you and the half-finished glass of water on the table. His eyes flickered to the empty chair across from you, the one that had remained untouched all evening. His fingers curled around the strap of his bag, a telltale sign of nervousness.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

It was a ridiculous question, really. He was a profiler—of course, he could tell you weren’t okay. He had likely picked up on the tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers fidgeted with the napkin on your lap, the disappointment etched in your expression. But still, he asked.

You exhaled, looking down at the table, at the small water rings left behind by your glass. “Honestly? No.”

Your voice was quieter now, tinged with frustration and hurt. You swallowed hard before forcing the words out.

“I got stood up.”

The moment you said it, you regretted it. Saying it out loud made it feel even more real. More humiliating.

Spencer’s first thought was How?

How could anyone stand you up? Someone as incredible as you? His mind immediately went into overdrive, analyzing every possible explanation. Maybe your date had an emergency. Maybe it was a terrible reason—one he wouldn’t accept regardless. But in the end, none of it mattered, because the fact remained: someone had willingly passed up the chance to spend time with you.

And that was incomprehensible to him.

If it were him? He would have been here fifteen minutes early. He would have memorized the menu ahead of time, making sure to pick something he thought you’d like so he could suggest it in conversation. He would have done everything in his power to make sure you knew, without a doubt, that he wanted to be here.

But it wasn’t him.

And as he stood there, trying to suppress the irrational wave of frustration at a person he didn’t even know, you were thinking something else entirely—how mortifying this was.

It was bad enough to be stood up. But to be seen by him—the one person you had been trying so hard to get out of your head? That was almost unbearable.

You had told yourself that going on a date would be good for you, that it would help get your mind off of him. The wonderful, brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, who you worked beside every day, who you admired more than you cared to admit.

And yet, here he was.

Seeing you at your lowest.

“You…” Spencer started, then hesitated. He cleared his throat before trying again. “You don’t deserve that.”

The sheer sincerity in his voice made you look up at him, surprised. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed together like he was trying to find the right words but couldn’t quite grasp them.

You forced out a weak chuckle. “Well, apparently my date thought otherwise.”

“It's still wrong.”

His voice was firm this time, leaving no room for argument.

Your heart stumbled over itself at the conviction in his tone.

Spencer shifted again, glancing at the chair across from you before meeting your eyes. “Can I… sit?”

Your breath caught for a split second.

“Yeah,” you said softly, nodding.

He pulled the chair out and sat down, setting his bag on the floor beside him. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, more tentative this time.

“Have you eaten yet?” Spencer asked, even though he already knew the answer.

You shook your head, still feeling a little awkward about the whole situation.

“Do you want to order something?” he asked shyly, his fingers toying with the edge of the menu. “They have this great pasta dish here.” He opened the menu and turned it toward you, pointing at one of the options.

You glanced at the menu, then back at him. “You’ve been here before?”

Spencer gave a small, embarrassed smile. “I, uh… yeah. I like coming here from time to time,” he admitted, his voice soft. “It’s close by, and they have good food.” He looked back down at the menu, as if trying to downplay the fact that he had just revealed something personal.

You found yourself smiling, the initial embarrassment of him seeing you alone fading into something warmer. It was such a Spencer thing—to have a go-to spot, a little place he frequented in the city’s chaos.

Before you could say anything else, the waitress returned, her expression noticeably brighter now that you were no longer sitting alone.

“Can I take your order?” she asked, her eyes flickering between the two of you.

Spencer hesitated, waiting for you to speak first. He wasn’t going to order if you weren’t.

“I’d like this pasta dish,” you said, pointing at the menu.

From the corner of your eye, you caught the way Spencer’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile—like he was pleased with your choice.

“I’ll take the same thing, thank you.” he said.

The waitress jotted it down, then collected the menus. Just before turning to leave, she shot Spencer a look.

“You shouldn’t make people wait like that,” she said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Your eyes widened slightly, and Spencer’s brows furrowed in confusion before realization dawned on him.

“Oh—no, I wasn’t—” he started, turning to you quickly, his expression flustered. “She thinks I was the one who stood you up.”

You laughed—really laughed—for the first time that night. The sound was warm, genuine, and it made Spencer smile almost instinctively. He didn’t even realize he was doing it; it was just a reflex, like hearing something familiar and comforting.

You glanced at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. He didn’t have to do this—he didn’t have to walk in, sit with you, turn what had been an awful night into something… bearable. Maybe even good.

“Thank you,” you said softly, tapping your fingers against the table in a nervous rhythm. “You know… for sitting with me.”

Spencer’s gaze was already on you, observing you in that way only he could—like he was memorizing every detail. You met his eyes, feeling a little shy under the weight of his attention.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said simply. “I like spending time with you.”

The words landed somewhere deep in your chest, pushing past the leftover humiliation of being stood up and settling into something warmer, something that made your breath catch.

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Because you liked spending time with him too. More than you probably should.

Before you could respond, the waitress returned, placing your plates in front of you with a satisfied nod. “Enjoy,” she said before heading off to another table.

Spencer adjusted his napkin, giving you a small, expectant look. “You know,” he said, “statistically speaking about 20% of first dates end in one person being stood up.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He hesitated, then winced slightly. “I… thought it might?”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Spencer, you really have a way with words.”

Spencer grinned, nudging his plate slightly closer. “Maybe, but… if you think about it, those statistics also mean that 80% of the time, the date actually happens. So, technically, the odds are in your favor for the future.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “That’s if I decide to go on another date.”

Spencer stilled for a fraction of a second before composing himself. “You might,” he said carefully. “If the right person asked.”

Something about the way he said it made your pulse quicken.

You glanced up at him, a playful glint in your eyes. “You’re not trying to set me up with someone, are you?”

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it, looking slightly flustered. “No! No, I— I wouldn’t, um…” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I just meant… someone better will ask. Someone who won’t stand you up.”

“Is this your way of asking me on a date, Dr. Reid?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you looked at him.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he seemed completely thrown off. His fingers twitched near his napkin, and he suddenly found the salt shaker incredibly interesting. “I mean—uhm—I…” He trailed off, clearing his throat as he stared anywhere but at you.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh. Watching Spencer Reid—genius, profiler, and one of the most brilliant minds you knew—struggle to form a coherent sentence was both endearing and adorable.

Then, after a long pause, he finally looked up at you, his nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“…Aren’t we kind of on a date right now?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

The biggest grin formed on your face, one you couldn’t hide even if you tried.

“I guess so,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked down at your plate, suddenly feeling shy.

The butterflies in your stomach screamed, your nerves a tangled mess of excitement and disbelief.

A pause. Then, he shifted in his seat, his fingers pressing together as if debating whether or not to say what was on his mind.

Finally, he did.

“I… I like you,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “I have for a while.”

Your breath hitched.

You had spent so much time trying to push your feelings for him away, convincing yourself they were one-sided. But now, hearing the words from his mouth—it was almost overwhelming.

“You do?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering between yours, searching for any sign that he had made a mistake. “I do.” He let out a small breath, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “I think I’ve liked you from the moment we met. I just… never thought you’d feel the same.”

You could’ve laughed at how ridiculous that sounded, at how blind he had been.

Instead, you reached across the table, hesitantly resting your hand over his. His fingers tensed for a brief second before relaxing under your touch.

“Spencer,” you murmured, looking at him with nothing but affection, “I’ve liked you for a long time, too.”

His lips parted slightly, as if the words had momentarily stunned him. Then, a breathy chuckle left him, one of pure, unfiltered relief. “You have?”

You squeezed his hand gently. “I have.”

Spencer licked his lips, nodding to himself as if processing everything before smiling—really smiling. “Well, that’s… that’s good.”

You laughed softly, squeezing his hand once more before pulling back, the warmth still lingering between you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, picking up your fork at last. “It really is.”

And just like that, the night that had started as a disaster became something else entirely—something perfect.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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captain-bubble-wrap · 3 days ago

Note

I'm having a bit of a downtime. I feel so conscious about my appearance. May I have Quinn reassuring me that I look good?

My love, I'm sure you're absolutely stunning. Chin up, buttercup! 🩷

Quinn hadn't participated in practice today. While he caught up on some rest, you had decided to go into the city for a little retail therapy of your own. Only it hadn't quite gone the way you had hoped. Everywhere you looked, there was a girl you felt was prettier than you, looking at something you had been interested in for yourself. It was easy to look at her, then at yourself, and convince yourself that you couldn't wear it near as good as she could. Self-sabotage and insecurity were bullying you into a early shopping trip.

It didn't matter what you did, they were all beautiful while you felt like trash. What did Quinn see in you, you wondered on the drive back to his apartment. He could have his pick of any Instagram model he wanted, so why had he chosen you? You would beat yourself up the entire time, resigning to tears after parking his car.

You had returned empty-handed.

"What are you doing back so early?" Quinn asked, seeing you walk through the door unexpectedly. He had been in the kitchen making himself some lunch, and had he known you were headed back, would have made you something as well.

"I wasn't feeling it." Your eyes were still red as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror by the door. Quinn was bound to notice soon enough. "I think I've got a migraine starting."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, babe. Do you have anything you can take?"

"Yeah."

He was genuinely being helpful, but you had blown him off and shuffled past the kitchen towards the bedroom. As he watched you go, your eyes down to avoid making eye contact, he knew there was more to it than the headache excuse. He'd let you go for now, not wanting to push you too much that you just shut down completely.

In the bedroom, you had gotten under the covers, hugging Quinn's pillow like you did when he was away on the road. You didn't want to cry anymore, but you had hurt your feelings so badly that there were no good thoughts left to give you even a drop of confidence in anything.

"Sweetheart?" Quinn asked, darkening the doorway some time later. You had almost drifted off to a nap when he called out to you, and could have faked being asleep, but you weren't trying to be mean to him.

"Yeah?" You mumbled into the pillow.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure."

You could hear him sigh from across the room and soon the feeling of him climbing in to bed with you would finally make you give him your full attention. He had laid his head against the pillow of his you were clutching. His pretty eyes waiting to catch sight of yours desperately.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked softly, his hand getting lost amongst your hair.

"Bad day."

"You seemed happy when you left." His brows pulled in slightly, trying to guess what had triggered the bad mood. "Did something happen while you were out?"

You bit your lip, pulling your eyes from his face. Why did he have to be so good at figuring out what was bothering you. "Just..."

Patiently, Quinn looked at you, his fingers giving you the gentlest scalp massage while he kept his hand buried deep in your hair.

"I just didn't feel like being shopping, that's all."

"Y|N, why don't you want to tell me?"

"Because it's a stupid reason," you choked out, eyes flicking back to Quinn's in haste.

His gaze softened, "Nothing is a stupid reason if it makes you feel like this, but I won't make you tell me. I just want to know you're alright."

"Why are you attracted to me?"

Quinn's expression twisted slightly. That was about the last question he would have dreamed you'd ask him. "What do you mean? In what way?"

"Why me over some model or something?"

He'd raise his head, propping himself up with his right arm. "I wasn't attracted to you because of your looks, sweetheart. That's just an added bonus. Do I come off that petty?"

"No, you don't. I just-- it's hard to not judge myself against all the other girls that could have my spot. I told you it was a stupid reason."

There was deep concern in Quinn's expression. There were few things he hated more than when you got down on yourself.

"As cliche as it might sound, looks eventually fade and no longer matter. What makes you, you, is your personality, baby. It's what shines through any amount of makeup or outfit. You can't fake a personality, not a real one. You know, as good as I do, that there are plenty of girls faking all of that just to get with any of us. They can't keep up the charade, and away they go, and another takes their place. Do you know how refreshing it was to meet you? How you genuinely smiled? That little snort you let out when you laughed at yourself for being nervous asking for that autograph? Do you remember how bad I blushed? I could hardly sign that jersey. I thought I was going to have to replace it because my signature looked like a fake."

You laughed softly remembering that day. He had been a little bit of a bumbling mess but it was so cute.

"You kept popping up in my head the whole rest of the day. Your eyes, your smile, hell, even that perfume you had been wearing. Drove me crazy all day. I see beautiful women everyday, but not a one of them are waiting for me back home like you are. I don't picture any of them waiting for me, wearing one of my t-shirts like you do. Each time I hear your voice when I'm away, I melt, because I get to hear it every--single--day."

You had been chewing on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay and Quinn had noticed. The hand that had been lost in your hair moved to hold your face, and his thumb would coax your lip from between your teeth.

"You're the only person I have eyes for -- the others are just people. You're my baby, and I love you. They don't mean anything to me. You have my heart."

"Quinny~" you whispered, knowing everything he said was his raw, unfiltered truths.

"I mean it, all of it. You might think the other girls are prettier than you, but I don't. Not for a second. You're the only one I want."

You didn't know what to say. His ability to melt away any bad mood you were dealing with, soothe any hurt feeling you had, and reassure you through it all had been a natural talent. It was times like these that you didn't feel like you deserved him, but you'd never tell him that. You knew already that he hated when you put yourself down and when you thought you should have less. Instead, you'd try to be thankful for him taking the time to explain his reasonings to you.

"I'll reassure you more, if you want me to. I just need to know. I'll do whatever I can to make you feel better, just to keep stuff like this from happening. I just don't want you to shut me out, okay?"

You'd give him a nod. "I'm sorry to be this way."

Quinn smiled, "It's alright. Do you think I don't wonder why you put up with me half the time?"

"But I love you!"

"Exactly! Because I know you love me -- that you truly love me for me and not the other stuff-- I don't have to worry about anything else; I don't let the other stuff rule me. Does that makes sense?"

"Mhm," you nodded.

"And before you say it, you don't need to be sorry. Things happen, and sometimes we just need a little more to see what we've been overlooking."

The air went out of you like a balloon. Quinn's ways with words left you speechless more times than you thought he realised.

"If it would make you feel better, I'll take you out sometime next week and let you know how beautiful I think you'd look in anything you try on. Anything you like, it's yours. No limit."

"Quinn~"

"I mean it. If it makes you smile, I want you to have it."

"You make me smile."

He laughed softly, "You have me already, silly."

You'd roll over on your back as he climbed on top of you, lips hovering just above each other's. "Unless you're wanting something more. Then I can give you that, too."

#💌maven's love notes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

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leeeedith · 3 days ago

Text

STRAY KIDS reaction to their S/O hugging them out of nowhere

Bang Chan 🐺

You were talking to him about your day, and out of nowhere, you just wrapped your arms around his waist. He freezes for a moment, surprised, but then chuckles softly, a fond smile spreading across his face. "You know, you don't have to sneak up on me like that." He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you gently. His face rests on your head, and he lets out a content sigh. "I missed you, too."

Lee Know 🐰

At first, he stiffens up, not expecting it. His eyes widen as you hug him from behind, but soon, a small, mischievous smile tugs at his lips. "What? Are you trying to steal my warmth?" He teases, turning around to face you. He pulls you into a tighter hug, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. "Well, if you're gonna invade my space like this, you better stay a while."

Changbin 🐷

You caught him off guard when you hugged him from the side, but he quickly melts into the embrace. His arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you into a strong, comforting hug. "Ah, so you're the clingy type, huh?" He smirks, but his voice softens as he kisses the top of your head. "I’m not complaining, though."

Hyunjin 😺

The hug makes him stop in his tracks, his eyes blinking in surprise. For a second, he looks at you, trying to process the sudden affection. Then, his hands gently slide to your back, and he smiles, his heart fluttering. "Did you miss me?" he asks, his voice soft, his cheeks flushing just a little.

Han 🐿️

He immediately starts laughing, but it’s a happy, warm kind of laugh. He hugs you back almost too tightly, squeezing you in a playful way. "What was that for?" he giggles, pulling away just a little to look at you with a grin. "You're so cute. I hope you know, I’m not letting go now." He holds you even tighter.

Felix 🐥

He seems to freeze for a second, but then he melts, his face lighting up with the brightest smile. He loves physical affection, so when you hug him like that, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. "You always know how to make my heart skip a beat," he says softly, holding you tightly. "I didn’t know I needed this, but I’m so glad you did it."

Seungmin 🐶

You surprise him, and he jumps a little before laughing, clearly flustered but trying to hide it. He hesitates for a second, then hugs you back, his grip soft but sincere. "What's this all about?" he asks, his voice light, but his eyes are full of affection. "Not that I'm complaining."

I.N 🦊

He looks at you, his face a little confused at first. You just hug him tightly, and he slowly softens. His arms slowly go around you, and he smiles shyly. "Is this... a random hug day or something?" he asks, trying to sound nonchalant, but you can tell from his pink cheeks that he’s touched. "I... I like it."

#kpop #kpop bg #skz x you #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #changbin #jeongin #lee know #seungmin #bangchan #han #hyunjin #felix

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thebestsetter · 17 hours ago

Text

Rin likes black.

Call him emo or depressed or cringe or whatever works best for you. He uses ONLY black things.

His shirts are all black. He shows up to practice wearing the team's black kit. His car is black. He answered a interview saying that his favorite color was black (although he disliked the question and thought it was unecessary - he's here to talk about football, goddammit!) Hell, even the Keychain on his black backpack is a black and white sad face.

He likes black. Actually, scratch that. He loves it.

So, his team can't help but feel confused when he suddenly comes to practice with the team's pink kit, which he swore ("cross my heart and hope to die" kind of thing) that he'd NEVER wear. He even said it was because you accidentally washed it during laundry day it was still not dry. (Ha. As if. He had like 10 of those).

And then he came with that same kit the other day. And the day after that. And the day after that day too.

And, suddenly, things weren't so black anymore.

His backpack, which now was adorned with pink hello kitty stickers, had a smiley pink and white Keychain attached next to the black and white one. His car had pink details on the leather seats, and his shoes were black and pink.

It was strange, to say the least. That was until they couldn't really take it anymore. Seeing a pink hair tie around his wrist hut the final nail in the coffin.

"So... uhm... Rin." Isagi started, Bachira and Nagi curiously watching behind him "If I remember correctly, you said before your favorite color is black, right?"

"It is" Rin deadpanned.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them while Rin waited for Isagi to answer and Isagi waited for him to say something else. It was quickly interrupted by Bachira's excited "Ask already!"

"But... uhm... I see you took a liking to... pink things. Why's that?"

"Oh" Rin clearly wasn't expecting this question. He stared into Isagi's eyes and then looked down to tie his shoelaces "I don't like pink"

"Huh?" Nagi made a noise behind them, and just then did Rin notice those two

"But you have lots of pink things now!" Bachira said, getting behind Itoshi and shaking his shoulders, obtaining an eyeroll from him

"I dislike pink" he shook Bachira's hands off and sighed "I wear it only because my girlfriend loves it"

"Fair enough!"

"Oh."

"Okay, well, that actually makes sense

"Owwnnn, is Rinnie so in love with his girlfriend that he wear pink just for her?" Seriously, who called Shidou here anyways?

But what made Rin hate him even more was the fact that he was right. He did wear pink only for you.

He was getting tired of you nagging at him for only having black shirts (and he also loved your smiling face when you saw him dressed like a Barbie doll, but that's on second thought or at least he likes to pretend it is.)

Don't get me wrong, black is still his favorite color. But you're his favorite thing in the whole world, so take a guess on who wins this one.

Black: 0

You: 1

Quick note: Rin loves when these two things are together. So imagine his reaction to you on a black dress on your 1 year anniversary. Bro almost fainted.

I hate school somebody HELP ME

Not proofread cause I'm sleepy and lazy. Deal with it.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #itoshi rin x reader #rin x you #rin x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #itoshi x reader

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un-fwuit-un-fwog · 2 days ago

Text

Ruffled Hair and Genuine Smiles

Riddle x !Mother Figure! Reader (platonic)

It was after Riddle's overblot, when you crouched next to him on the ground as he cried and gently wiped his tears before offering the warmest hug he's ever gotten in his life, that he first felt that warm feeling in his chest.

You went on to offer to help him make the tart Ace demanded as an apology; pointing out that Ace had plenty of help making his and therefore Riddle deserved at least one person to help him.

When it came to baking the tart, Riddle had that unfamiliar, warm feeling in his chest the whole time you two were working.

You giggled when he got flour on his cheek, and when he pouted, you smudged some on your own as well so the two of you would match.

Riddle was stunned by your action, but he found himself letting out the most genuine laugh he's laughed in ages.

When Riddle mentioned the oyster sauce you gave him a strange look before shrugging and telling him to go ahead and add it. (It would he Trey, the one who told him this little 'trick', that would be tasting the consequences)

You could see Riddle trying his hardest to be better after his overblot, so you made sure to let him know you saw his efforts. Sometimes you did this with words, and other times you did it by fondly ruffling his hair.

It doesn't matter if you're all that much older than Riddle or not, at this point he was starting to unconsciously see you as a mother figure.

On the rare occasion that he didn't already have his tie tied perfectly and positioned just right, you would come up and do it for him. (there's that warm feeling again)

On test days you'd meet up with him after school to see how he did. When he did well you hugged him happily. When he did poorer than he hoped, you still hugged him: reassuring him that this wouldn't be the end of the world. "We all fall short of our goals sometimes. It's a part of life and it's how we learn. Look at your test. The ones you got wrong are marked. You can take this information and use it to do better next time. You know what you struggle with, so work on it. There will be plenty more tests for you to ace in the future, but you won't be able to do so if you allow yourself to be put down by this one. I believe in you, Riddle; and I'm proud of you whether you get 100% or not."

Riddle was stunned by your words and ended up crying in your welcoming arms for a second time.

Anytime he would slip up and get angry, you'd gently calm him down and help him find a better solution than yelling.

Anytime the Equestrian Club would have a competition of some sort, you'd be in the front row of the crowd: camera in hand. Somehow, he could always hear your cheers over the rest of the crowd.

Riddle somehow got a button torn off his uniform jacket once, and you offered to fix it for him. The next day, you showed up to Heartslabyul bright and early in the morning (with the slightest dark circles under your eyes from staying up all night making sure your stitches were perfect) Jacket in hand.

He didn't realize until later in the day when he reached his hand in his pocket that you had left a little note. "Have a good day, Riddle! Good luck on your test! :)"

Anytime Riddle would have to call his mom, and inevitably be left upset afterwards, you'd always be there for him with your arms open.

"Oh" he thought, finally piecing his feelings together. That warm feeling in his chest every time you did something for him that showed him you cared. . .that's what it's supposed to feel like to be loved by a mother. Not cold and harsh. Soft and warm.

Nobody dares utter a word when they see the usually uptight Riddle not so discreetly looking for you after class on test days: 100% score in hand. Nor do they utter a word when they see how excited he looks when he finally finds you and shows you the test. And they certainly don't say anything when you get away with ruffling his hair and giving him a soft hug.

"I'm proud of you, Riddle." This is a sentence his real mother has never once uttered to him, at least not genuinely. It's come to the point that any time he hears those words he can't help but feel inadequate. That's what his mother always made him feel when she said those words in that ingenuine tone of hers.

But when you said it?

When you said it in that oh-so-gentle tone with that oh-so-genuine smile. . .

Riddle felt love

He finally felt like someone was truly proud of him, and he was proud of himself too.

He accidentally calls you mom once, but instead of looking at him disgustedly or yelling at him as he expected; your laugh flows airily through the air like a wind chime. It's not in a condescending way, but rather one that conveys a sense of fondness. You simply ruffle his hair and smile.

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pomefioredove · 2 days ago

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can i order a sugar cookie, #18, with frosting and dry fruit please 💕💕 love your work

coughs weakly

order #18, sugar with frosting, dry fruit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ intent to bite

summary: a miscommunication leads to sharing a small bed with lilia tropes: only one bed, first kiss characters: lilia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, who is an adult, a lil suggestive

"Told you this was a bad idea," Grim mumbles.

"Why am I stuck with Sebek, anyway?! I should be with my hench-human!"

You hold a finger to your lips. So much for hoping Grim would mind his manners on this trip.

"We've been over this," Silver says, carrying a six or seven bags inside the house. "Malleus will take the first guest room, Lilia and the Prefect will take the second, because it has two beds. Sebek and I are sleeping in the lounge, where there's a dog bed for you."

"I'm no dog!"

"That's not-" Silver sighs, looking to you for help. You have nothing.

Then, there's breath on your neck and a voice in your ear. "Oh, don't look so glum. It'll be a fine bonding experience for you boys!"

You jolt, and Lilia giggles into your ear, the airy, cheerful sound almost as teasing as the prank.

Grim sighs. "I bet Sebek snores like a lawn mower..."

"And you don't?" you mutter, much to Lilia's delight.

"Khee hee. Personally, I'm tickled by this! The Zigvolt family is as welcoming as ever. Oh, Malleus, do you need help with that?"

The smaller fae leaves to hold the door open for Malleus, while Grim repeats "tickled??" in a grumble. Silver sighs again.

"It's been a long journey. We'll all feel better once we've slept,"

"This can't be right,"

You stand in the narrow doorway, overnight bag in hand. The guest room is dark, but you can still feel how small it is. There's no way two people can fit in here.

Lilia peers over your shoulder. "What's- ah. I see,"

Your eyes adjust to the darkness. There's only one. There's only one bed.

"Now, this is unfortunate. Our rooms must have been mixed up. And Malleus has already retired, poor thing..."

You look at him. "What are we going to do?"

"Do? Why, sleep, of course,"

"Where?"

Lilia smiles and pats your head, as if you were an adorable kitty cat rather than a very tired and disgruntled adult after a full day of travel.

"In bed, my dear. Unless you were planning on taking the bath,"

He slips under your arm and into the room, tossing his bag on the floor with no regard or interest for the clothes and trinkets that spill from it.

You follow, putting your own things away as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. "Well?"

"...You can't honestly act as if this is normal,"

Lilia giggles. "What are you so afraid of? I'm not going to eat you,"

You listen, if only a little, sitting at the edge of the bed, as far from him as possible. Why is this making you so nervous?

"I'm just not used to it. That's all,"

Shit excuse. He can tell, too, if that smirk of his is any indication.

"Ah, I see. You think, hope, perhaps? that I'm going to make a move on you, as the kids say,"

Your eyes widen and you stumble over yourself, trying to come up with a rebuttal, an excuse, a lie, anything at all.

His smirk sharpens. Literally- his fangs dig into his lower lip, and he sticks his tongue out at you.

"If you're going to be this tense all night, you won't get any sleep. I'll tell you what-" he says, sitting up. "I will graciously allow you one kiss to sate your curiosity. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Now that's just unfair. "That's- what makes you think I would-!"

You stumble some more, and he drinks in the sight of you, flustered and nervous and oh-so close to him.

Lilia lets you argue with yourself until you're spent.

"...Fine,"

He claps. "Very well. Come here, Prefect,"

You sigh, but cross the bed, anyway, feeling the soft, handmade quilt underhand. You can't believe you're going to do this in Sebek's house, of all places...

Curse this fae.

You sit before him, far more vulnerable than you would have liked.

"Very good. But you could come a little closer, don't you think?"

Again, you listen. You sit on his lap, straddling his thighs, much to his delight.

"Better," he mumbles, perhaps more to himself than to you, because then his hand is holding the back of your head and his mouth is on yours.

Lilia doesn't give you much, and you know that's his intention. The kiss is much too chaste for him, and much too slow for you, but passion and pace were never a part of the deal.

You let it go.

And with some reluctance, you part from him, warm and jittery. That wasn't enough, and he knows it.

"You look like you have something you want to ask," Lilia says, his fingers brushing over your neck, feeling the beating of your heart in your pulse.

"...No," you lie.

He smirks again, baring his fangs as if warning you of his intent to bite.

"Khee hee. Don't worry, desire is nothing to be ashamed of. And we all have our little secrets... I, for example, may have asked Malleus to switch rooms with us."

Despite what Silver had said, you can't imagine sleeping now.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #lilia vanrouge x reader

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yandere-wishes · 2 days ago

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Currently obsessed with the Damian x stray writing and had a very angsty thought about it (not a request, not meaning any pressure just wanted to share)

Stray feels suffocated by his attention. Maybe one day she might want him back but it’s all too much. She fakes her death (as her vigilante persona) and Damian morns and rages and turns cold, all of that delicious stuff.

Only one day the Catfam/Selina end up in hot water and she has to come back. He freaks the hell out.

oooohhhh I really love this, there's something so progressively dark about it. About Making Damian suffer so deliciously until he finally snaps.

Damian's love for Stray/Catgirl is complicated or rather it's easy but Damian likes to make it complicated by tying it to fate and legacy. He practically sees reader as his destiny as an omen and a good luck charm, heavenly insurance of sorts.

But should his darling, his comfort be stripped from him.

Well, destiny will still play out, but it won't be as kind.

Damian's life, his legacy, will be marred in ebony and rage.

⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆🐾°⋆

The hands wrapped around your shoulders are suffocating. Same for the fingers currently squeezing your cheek, you angle your mouth right, trying to bite and gnaw at his flesh and bones. Damian just laughs, he still thinks the two of you are playing.

He always thinks you're playing. What can you expect from the little assassin boy whose first toy was a knife, who swung swords instead of playing catch. He loves the way your claws scratch at him, the tiny scars they leave. He likes to wrestle you along the harsh pavement, enjoys the punches he throws and receives. It's all just a game to him.

But you, you can't take it anymore, the sky itself is closing in. You can't breathe in his presence can't think when his arms are coiled like vines around your body.

The world is growing dark as his lips ghost across your lips...

Your mother notices your depression. The dark gloom that follows you across the rooms. The sharp snaps at your sisters, the endless screaming when someone gets too close.

She's already lost one daughter, she refuses to lose another.

Selina holds your funeral, pays for the coffin, and signs the invites.

She plays the role of grieving mother like an actress on the silver screen.

But despite the desperation in her action, her throat still hitches with fear when she sees the rage in the youngest Wayne's eyes.

She can't help but feel like she's doomed the world with her selfish little stunt.

In Star City you can breathe, see the sun as you walk across the dewy grass. There is hope here, sprinkled through the air.

You mind not the heroes that swing by. You even laugh at the stray arrows and masked family arguing on the rooftops.

In Star City, you can finally breathe...

Until the Gotham gloom creeps in once more.

He prowls the streets, cowl crown wrapped tightly around his head. Here he is vengeance he is law, Gotham bows at his feet.

He doesn't notice the family heirlooms shattered across the city streets,

The morals and legacy rotting away under the moon's mournful gaze.

Damian Wayne

Batman

The protector of Gotham.

And also it's jailer.

He doesn't have his father's mercy.

Doesn't carry his borthers' oaths.

He kills the monster that lurks between the shadows.

That fester in the darkness.

No crime goes unpunished.

There is no mercy for the wicked, no hope for rehabilitation.

There are only graves now.

His father would be disappointed...

Damian stalks towards the zoo,

He knows he's going to enjoy tonight's trifle.

Catwoman picks the lock on the new exhibit. She recoiled in disgust as her eyes scan the plaque by the cage.

*Lion cubs saved from the wild brought for restoration*

Lies she thinks bitterly. These little cubs were stolen, brought here from their homes across the sea. Imprisoned for the crule's amusement and the rich's greed. She sends her own kittens to rescue the lion cubs. But just as they go to make their escape. A dark figure descends from the sky, tearing through them and binding them.

Selina fights, but she's come to learn she is no match for the new bat. The vampire out for blood. He drags them back to the manor, once such a lively place now reeks of sorrow and mourning.

"This has nothing to do with crime and you know it! You know who's really guilty here. You just want an excuse to get rid of us. You still blame us, blame me for her death." Selina screams as the bat throws them into a dark chamber.

Damian says nothing he just locks the door and leaves.

After all the blood of the greatest detective still courses through his veins.

Your old suit feels too tight, cutting off your circulation. Still you jump from rooftop to rooftop vying for Wayne manner. You got the picture of your family tied up and starved, a few days ago. You hate how long it took you to gather the courage to return.

You shutter thinking of the image. Of the windowless cement room.

Your family may be infamous for breaking free.

But even a cat can't escape a cinderblock.

You crawl through the shadows. Sticking to the walls of the manner, the maze is endless, unrelenting. It refuses to be breached. The lights come on one by one as if catching a rat in a trap. You recoil at the blinding light when finally your eyes open once more you see Damian descending the stairs face painted in soft surprise, body covered in his father's suit.

"I knew you couldn't be dead." he's grown, face molded into a softer Bruce. But his rage still flickers relentlessly in his emerald eyes. Of couse he's finally cracked the case.

"Let them go" you beg tears cascading from your eyes "Please!".

"I see the civilian life has made you soft kitty. Not a difficult matter to resolve, I'm sure." You shake your head, stepping back trying to run away.

But the years have made him even stronger and Damian catches you before you can flee him again. His arms wrap around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck, intoxicated by your scent.

He can't believe he's holding you once more. Your body is so solid within his grasp. He missed your sweet voice and even sweeter whimpers. He missed the erratic thump of your heart whenever he was near.

He'll never let you go, ever again.

Damian vows it on his father's grave.

He kisses your neck, your cheeks.

Finally reclaiming your lips.

You can't breathe...

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mameillieureennemie · 3 days ago

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crawling back, slightly ashamed, slightly desperate... if u could spare any sort of vi taking care of u after work... i know I was just very freaky and rough, but gentle.. gentle 😭🙏🙏🙏 ON MY KNEES PLEEEASE I BEG (no rush, duh, but I jus... have back pain and need some vi idc how HEHAHA)

babes, i feel you so hard on this because my back also hurts, and i hate this time of the month for real. but i gotchu, honey, and here are my thoughts. 😩

vi adores looking after you when you come home. she's always counting down the minutes from when you send her the message that you're heading home. once she receives that message, vi instantly on the move to make your homecoming as perfect as possible.

the thing is—you two have been dating for a while now. a few years of a romance that never stops being whirlwind, even when it simmers into that comforting flame old lovers carry. with years under the belt, some might think that the effort doesn't need to need to continue. that it shouldn't be a pressure to uphold because you know each other, what more is left to discover? what more is left to impress?

vi would rather eat her own fist than allow that to happen. she'd rather kick herself than allow herself to slip up in any way when it comes to you. because you are the very air she breathes, the very reason for her existence, and nothing can ever make her feel differently. so she'll treasure you like the gem you are, ensure you're well-cared for and attended to with the utmost respect.

sometimes, she believes that is why she's here—to cater to you.

so regardless of the years, vi still treats your homecoming with the grandeur it deserves. she's already started dinner an hour ago, has laid your lounge wear (pajama shorts and always one of her shirts) on the bed, and has gotten a bath running five minutes before you're at the door.

when she hears the keys jingle in the lock, vi is instantly at the door with open arms.

then the best part comes—seeing your face.

you look exhausted, eyes heavy with tiredness and mouth downturned by a frown. you seem annoyed today, maybe something happened at work. you'll eventually tell her, you always do. but the second you see her, all of that melts away like the winter's chill driven away by the sun's warmth.

your downturned mouth is flipped upside down; you're smiling, soft yet brilliant, and you fall into her arms with a grateful sigh. vi is prepared, forever ready to catch you, and holds you close with solid arms tight around your waist.

"hey, princess," she murmurs, pressing sweet kisses into your head. you react beautifully, leaning up into them like an eager cat depraved of affection. "rough day today?"

you let out a tiny grunt, nuzzling deep into her neck, before you say softly, "yeah, but i'm home with you now. that's all i care about."

vi's heart instantly turns thunderous in her chest, her love for you too overwhelming. she may just squeeze you until you squeak because it's so hard to control herself around you. but she does, barely, and pulls you back a little so she can look at your lovely face.

you're still smiling, so adoringly too, and vi might very well melt into a puddle.

"i've got dinner simmering on the stove," she says, gently taking off your coat. you allow her, going limp as she tenderly manhandles you. "and a nice bath waiting for you, so go jump in and relax."

you nod happily, eyes fluttering half-closed, as you reach for her hand. you entwine your fingers, walking around vi so you can pull her towards the bathroom.

"join me?" you ask sweetly, hopeful, and vi wonders how you'd ever think she'd say no.

"of course, sweetheart."

#vi x you #vi x reader #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane #kismet writes ☆~#the way i made myself so soft #WHY ISN'T SHE REAL #I NEED SOMEONE TO BE LIKE THIS WITH ME

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writingonleaves · 3 days ago

Text

to not know who i am, but still know that i'm good long as you're here with me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, nothing much else i can think of!

inspired by + title: i like me better by lauv

word count: 6.4k

author's note: hello everyone!! i feel like i've been in such a rut lately but i'm glad i managed to write this one out! this is for the lovely @wyattjohnston for her winter fic exchange 2k25. demi, thank you as always for your hard work in putting this together and i hope you enjoy. sorry that it's a few days late! to everyone, please let me know what you think!!

*****

When Maia Flaherty left her usual lunchtime coffee run with a number from one very Jack Hughes, she didn’t really quite know what to think.

“No pressure,” he had said with an easy smile. “I just think you’re pretty and the glare you gave that couple that was making out at the table next to you sold it for me.”

As she stares out on her train ride home, she’s deep in thought. This might be just a one date thing and then they find out they have nothing in common and they move on. But she knows herself. She doesn’t fall fast, but when she falls, she falls hard. What if she ends up falling harder than him, setting herself up for heartbreak. But she knows that’s also unfair to him, especially because she doesn’t know him. She appreciates his boldness in asking her out, but she doesn’t understand how he can be so confident and sure that he wants to go on a date with her. To be fair, maybe he’s only looking for something casual, to which she has even less of an idea of how to handle it, because she has never done casual and doesn’t think she could do it.

As she’s walking the streets back to her place in West Village, she thinks about how to approach this. Knowing her, she’s too curious to not text him and she probably will think on it over the weekend. But, should she protect herself and go into this as just meeting a friend or go into this romantically? She admits that he is cute and she was the slightest bit charmed by him, but she knows that she knows nothing else about him. She takes the time to look up some of his highlights of his career (he had dropped his Instagram handle to her “just so you know I’m a real person”) and she knows that he’s good. Almost annoyingly good. As a University of Minnesota alum, she’s familiar enough with hockey as a whole. She stalks his Instagram and doesn’t find anything much besides posts with family, friends and teammates. Pretty average. But she’s still weary.

Monday morning rolls around, and on her train to work, she takes a deep breath, clicking on his contact and copy and pasting what she had written last night.

hi!!! it’s maia from the cafe. if the offer still stands, i’d love to go out on that date

Not even a minute later, and she gets a response.

what a wonderful text to get on a Monday morning

the offer absolutely still stands. what’s your schedule looking like this week?

not around during regular people work hours so monday-friday 9-5 won’t work

my weekend is pretty empty atm but idk if that works for you? i’m assuming you have games this week

no games this weekend, for once. all weeknight games.

lucky timing

lucky indeed. you around Saturday for lunch?

works for me!

you’re in jersey right? i can come out to you if that’s easier

are you kidding me?

i’m not gonna make you come out to me, especially because I’m the one who asked you out

where are you in the city? I’ll come to you

She smiles to herself.

I’m in west village, but i can meet you anywhere

i’ll do some research after practice and get back to you?

sure

i also can suggest some places as well!!

appreciate it. i got it though. i’m the one who asked so I feel like it’d be unfair to ask you to plan

Huh, she thinks, being surprised again. She doesn’t have much to compare to, but she can’t remember a single date she’s been on where she hasn’t been the one planning.

okay lmk if you need my help! no rush we have a whole week

(Jack has a break in a morning practice and he’s just staring at his phone with the biggest smile on his face. His teammates are all making fun of him, but he pays them no mind. It’s not new for them to poke fun at him for texting girls, but he knows, he just knows that this one is different.

He also kinda likes the idea of “we.”)

kinda wish we didn’t

oh?

saturday is so far away

you’ll survive

She gets into the office just then and her phone is forgotten as she’s thrown into spreadsheets and meetings. It isn’t until 4 p.m. where she has the mental energy and time to look at his responses. The last text he had sent was two hours ago.

i found a place. well, a couple

i asked some of my friends who know the city better than I do

*screenshot of list in Notes app*

i tried to find places in different parts of Manhattan, mostly in West Village. i don’t know where exactly in that area you are and how easy or hard it is for you to get wherever

sorry, just realized I’m spamming you and you’re probably working

I’m so sorry i left you hanging work was literally insane until now

honestly all of these places sound wonderful

i’ve been to a couple of them before so tell your friends they have good taste

any one in particular you like?

you choose

since you’re planning it after all

lol

i really don’t want you having to travel that far

i literally live in nyc so if I want to see any of my friends who don’t live by me I have to travel far

and you’re literally coming from jersey

i’ll be fine with any choice you make

seriously

He chooses one of her favorite Greek food joints about 10 blocks from where she is and she tries to put it away in her mind. She still has this whole week to go. She’s known for years that she gets overwhelmed and stressed if she thinks ahead occasionally, and this is definitely one of those times.

(There’s a game on Wednesday night, and her best friend and roommate Carrie urges her to put it on TV in the background while they’re eating dinner. Carrie knows next to nothing about hockey, so Maia tries to explain it to her. But most of the time, she’s quiet and her eyes are zeroed in on 86. Or trying to, because everyone skates so fucking fast. He scores a goal and assists another, and she knows that that’s literally his job, but she can’t help but feel something watching him skate around so confidently.

She’s always respected the skill it takes to play hockey. Skating is hard. But the hockey attitude wasn’t always something that she loved. She understands that she’s projecting a lot of unwarranted judgement. But she doesn't think it’s all based on lies.

As the minutes wind down in the game, she zones out. She really doesn’t understand how or why this literal superstar of the sport just approached her and after knowing literally nothing about her, asked her out. This shit doesn’t happen to her. She also knows the usual crowd that hockey players go for. She’s not blonde. She’s not a model. She’s not anything like that.

What does he want from her?)

*****

She wakes up Saturday morning a bit groggy, thanks to the glasses of wine her and Carrie had the night before. She goes through her morning routine, but decides to forgo the coffee and make a smoothie instead. She usually likes to sip on her coffee for hours rather than down it all in one go. And she knows if she downs it, she’ll start shaking.

She doesn’t need to be shaking today.

Carrie stumbles out when Maia just leaves the bathroom and offers to make a smoothie for her. With a yawn, Carrie nods as she slides past her to go into the bathroom.

It’s 9:48 a.m. They’re meeting right at noon, so she has a bit of time. Her phone buzzes right after she finishes cleaning the blender.

good morning! see you soon

She just sends back a couple of emojis, before scrolling around on her social media accounts, sipping on her smoothie. It’s just the waiting now that’s making her more nervous.

She already knows what she’s gonna wear. An olive green sweater she bought recently that she’s been loving, black leggings, brown booties and earrings that she got years ago when she studied abroad. She’s leaving her hair down and putting some light makeup on. Nothing crazy. This is literally lunch. And she’s not gonna overthink for a boy.

Carrie proves to be a good distraction, simultaneously hyping her up, assuring her and talking about other things to keep her head level. She walks to the subway station and goes on the train, airpods in. This is all routine. The way there is no stranger to her, often meeting up with her brother for dinner around the area.

She checks the time. On time.

She approaches the restaurant’s front at 11:57 and decides to walk in and grab a table. She stops in her tracks when she sees that he’s already there, in the corner by the window that she usually loves to sit at. He’s wearing a gray sweater and blue jeans, a baseball cap flipped backwards on his head. She waves off the hostess and heads in his direction.

He looks up from his phone and immediately locks it, standing up. She smiles in greeting and he comes around to grab her bag as she shrugs off her jacket. She thanks him softly, to which he just smiles back at. As she’s sitting down, he pours out some water.

“You didn’t get lost getting here?” She jokes.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not that directionally challenged. Just not used to it.”

“That’s what you get for living in Jersey.”

“Oh. So that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

And that just sets the tone for the rest of the date. It’s…surprisingly easy. The follow up question immediately is if she’s from the city, to which she snorts and says “absolutely not,” but she’s been living here for over two years now. She grew up in Buffalo, she says, and went to college at University of Minnesota, to which he, of course, widens his eyes. “You went to Minnesota, and you’re not a hockey fan?” She rolls her eyes. “When did I say I’m not a hockey fan?” She talks about how yes, she went to a couple of games when she was there and they were always fun, but she wasn’t necessarily an avid fan.

He talks about growing up in Toronto even though he was born in Orlando and then going to Michigan and how hockey was literally just his life from a young age, especially with parents who were also involved, as well as an older and a younger brother growing up to play too. Sure, she knows all of this (she couldn’t help herself and did enough research), but it is nice and different to hear from him directly. She does slip for a second and makes fun of his private school upbringing (“It tracks.”) but the shocked delight on his face lets her know that he doesn’t take offense.

As they order the food and it comes and they start eating, she lets herself be charmed. She didn’t expect him to be so…normal. Normal in the way that she often forgot that he was one of the best hockey players in the country. Normal in the way that parts of him remind her of her closest guy friends. But then he would mention something about his career or just a random detail in his life that would make her remember.

She notices that he also is very aware of how much he talks. It’s natural for her to ask more questions, because that’s just how she’s wired, but he turns questions back to her that excite her or make her laugh, and then she goes on a minor tangent. It’s very back and forth. Balanced.

She’s having a really good time.

She expected him to be more…straight-forward in terms of flirting, due to how he asked her out, but he’s not. He seems a bit nervous at times even, chuckling adorably and avoiding eye contact, but then he says something that’s so just so incredibly confident that makes her flustered or let out a scoff of disbelief.

Before they know it, they’re done eating. She protests when he immediately grabs the check and pulls out his card, to which he just playfully glares at her for. She does relent and thanks him, and she’ll never forget the boyish smile he gave her.

They’re both on the same page, not wanting their time together to end quite yet, lingering to leave. And then she suggests grabbing a coffee from a place around the corner and walking to a nearby park. She teases him, asking if he’ll get cold to which he scoffs at (“I’m basically a Canadian and I live at the rink. I’ll be fine. Will you?” She laughs. “I was born and raised in Buffalo. Don’t worry about me.”)

They grab coffee (to which she puts her foot down and pays and he lets her), him a black coffee and her an iced chai, and she leads them leisurely to a nearby park. It’s a little chilly, but it’s not windy which is good, and they find an empty bench and sit down, their conversation and battering just coming so incredibly easy. Even to the point where sometimes, she’s not necessarily calling him out, but she’s challenging some of his thoughts. She’s not shattering his confidence at all, but definitely subtly giving him a reality check and just being honest.

And not even purposefully. It’s just how she is.

(He really appreciates it, actually. It’s been awhile since someone who he’s just met isn’t afraid to challenge him off the rink. He loves the attention and always has, and she’s giving that to him, but there’s also something innate in her that’s so grounded and in turns, grounds him.)

But it’s also different. It’s different when he randomly throws out a compliment here and there, saying how he loves her laugh and how cute she is. The way he’s paying attention to everything she’s saying. The way he just can’t help but chuckle almost incredulously because she’s so much more than he imagined, even though he’s the one who asked her out.

Before they know it, it’s almost 4 and they’ve been chatting the whole time. Yet somehow, it still feels like they could keep going. She walks him to the nearest subway station since it’s on her way home. She gives him a farewell hug and he follows his gut and kisses her on the cheek, promising to text her. She smiles one more time before turning to walk back to her apartment.

When she gets back to her place, Carrie’s there and ready for a recap. She says everything she can remember them talking about, which is a lot, while Carrie just listens carefully. Throughout it, she’s trying to downplay it, probably for self-preservation purposes, looking back. Carrie lets her dwell on it occasionally, but also interrupts when needed to try to assure her friend that she’s a catch and there’s a reason he asked her out in the first place and she can’t play herself down like that.

What she knows for a fact at this point is that she likes spending time with him, and she does have romantic feelings for him. Everything else? She has no idea. She has no idea if they’d pair together well. She has no idea what he wants from this. She has no idea how he actually feels about her, because he could’ve just thrown out those compliments because he’s naturally flirty. It wouldn’t surprise her. And god, she can’t help but let her mind wander into his career and being in the spotlight and how that just affects…everything.

She just doesn’t know.

(Meanwhile, he returns to an empty place, Luke out with some friends for the night. He can’t stop smiling, replaying the whole day in his head. She’s just so much more than he expected, able to keep up with his quips, often beating them. She laughs and smiles so freely. She’s so damn smart. She’s beautiful.

He’s had his fair share of hookups and casual things, but this? This is different. It’s scary, he thinks, that he’s this invested after one date. It’s unfamiliar territory, and there’s so much more he wants to know about her.

He needs to know everything he can about her. Before she figures out that she’s way too good for him.)

*****

Four weeks pass, and they haven’t seen each other. There have been some sporadic texts here and there, but with the chaos of both their jobs and then Thanksgiving, it hasn’t accounted to more than that.

(She’s trying to get over it and let it pass. He wants anything but that)

On an early December evening, Maia’s just finished cleaning up the dishes when she gets a call. When she sees his name, she blinks. She clicks accept.

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s Jack.”

She can’t help but chuckle a bit. “Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

“How are you? How was your Thanksgiving?”

“I’m doing okay. Thanksgiving was good! I got to go back home for a few days. How about you? Did you even have a break?”

“Not really. I had some family come to watch some games though, so that was nice.”

“I’m sure it was,” she hums.

“Listen-I…I know it’s been awhile.”

“Almost a month.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out guiltily. “I-I’m really sorry about that. I’ve…the season’s just been so crazy and, yeah. I’ve been meaning to reach out sooner, but just, like. Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replies automatically. “I get it. Your schedule is crazy. I feel like you have a game every other day.”

“You’ve been keeping up?” He teases lightly.

She rolls her eyes. “A bit more than I used to, sure. But that really doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs a bit, before settling down into a serious tone. “If you have time, or if you even want to, because I totally understand why you wouldn’t, I’d love to go out again. I just, I had a really good time with you last time. Again, I know I…if you say no, I get it.”

It’s silent for a couple of seconds, but she knows her answer. “I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she smiles to herself at his surprised tone. “You surprised?”

“A bit. I mean, I kinda fell off the face of the planet. I would understand if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you free?”

He sighs. “This week? Not much, unfortunately. I’m only around for dinner tomorrow and Friday, and then I’m gone for a few days on a stretch of away games.”

“Wanna do tomorrow?”

“You around?”

She snorts. “I’m not as busy as you are, Mr. NHL. I’m free most weeknights.”

He lets out a low laugh. “Okay, yeah. Tomorrow night’s perfect. I’ll actually be in the city in the afternoon to meet up with a friend so I’ll just stay and meet you around there.”

“Oh good. I don’t have to pretend I want to go to Jersey.”

“This again?”

She laughs. “I can choose this time. Do you know where you’re meeting your friend?

“Yeah. I have his address. Hang on, I’ll send it to you.” Seconds later, her phone buzzes and she briefly looks at the location on Google Maps.

“Oh. Battery Park. That’s close to where I am. You must really like this friend if you’re willing to travel that far. It’s a pretty long way from Newark.”

“Right? That’s what I told him. So, tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. I can figure out a place and I’ll let you know tomorrow morning the latest if that works? What kind of food do you like?”

“Anything you like.”

“Jack.”

“I mean it.”

“Okay, okay. How does ramen sound?”

“Perfect. I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll text you,”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.”

Tomorrow comes, this time at a lowkey but busy ramen place where they’re sat side by side and their knees are touching. Jack’s hair is out this time, and the waves are falling across his forehead and she just loves the way it looks. He notices the two rings she’s wearing as one quickly catches a light in the restaurant. They continue on from the last time they talked but this time, swimming the surface of deeper conversations.

She talks about her constant doubts about her job and how she sometimes just wants to pick up and movs somewhere else and start new. He talks about how he knows he’s good at hockey and knows this is the only path for him, but how he recognizes that outsiders look and sometimes see a sell-out or someone who doesn’t work hard. But he’s learned to just put his head down and play and to do it well. That’s something she can also relate to.

She talks about how her relationship with her older brother is one that she’s found to be very grateful for, especially because they’re so far apart in age. A lot of who she is is based on his personality. He talks about being the middle child and being close in age to his brothers, and how competition was always just built into every activity they did. He’s realized, especially as he’s gotten older, how much he appreciates his brothers and having all three of them being in the same league, with Luke on the same team, and going through similar experiences but also completely different trajectories.

(Somewhere, they both take a few sake shots and Maia’s not quite drunk, but buzzing, her laughter more free and her face redder).

Even semi-intoxicated, she decides not to ask the questions she really wants to yet that focus around them and what they are, unclear of where they stand. They’re sitting so close to each other and she relishes in it, wanting more. When she runs a hand through her hair to push it back, she notices his eyes flickering at that action, which means…nothing. She has to break away eye contact sometimes because he’s just staring at her so intensely.

No wonder he has girls wanting him left and right, she thinks. She’s kind of no better.

Towards the end of the night (he paid again and she only let him after he said he would let her pay next time. Next time), they plan out vaguely when they’ll see each other next. He’s away for the next week or so, and she just shrugs. She gets it. It would be naive of her to think she can change it. “I’ll let you know the second I land,” he says, and she just nods. She then jokes that maybe their next date could be skating, and he rolls his eyes, though he takes it into consideration. When he asks if she’s serious, she snorts, “I mean, sure. But you’re not gonna have to teach me how, if that’s what you’re going for.” He laughs. Loudly.

When they part ways, he hugs her tightly and for a long time. She breathes him in subtly, her eyes fluttering shut when she feels him press a lingering kiss on her forehead.

Maybe that’s when she should’ve asked. Because that act was way too intimate to feel friendly. But she didn’t, and she watched him walk away, chuckling as he turned around to shoot her a parting wink.

She went to sleep that night, somehow, with so many thoughts circling around her mind)

*****

Maia has an idea of when he’s landing, so she’s not surprised when she gets a call on a Thursday night.

He seems a bit out of breath, and she asks him if everything’s okay. Everything’s fine, he says. He just landed back in Newark and is heading home. He cuts to the chase, and asks if she’s around the next night. She blinks, because she knows he has a game. He clarifies. Is she around after the game? (“Or for the game,” he adds quickly. “If you want to come, I can get you tickets.”) While she’s flattered, she knows that’s crossing a line at this point and she politely turns down his offer. But yeah, she says. I’m around after. What’s up? He asks if he can take her out on a date. And she knows her answer (it’s obviously yes) but she says only if she’s allowed to go to him in Jersey. He protests immediately, but she shuts him up (“Both of our dates have been way closer to where I am. It’s only fair, Maia.”)

It’s gonna be a late night date, since the game (assuming no overtime) won’t end until at least 10:00. He’s not sure what he has in store, but she’s okay with not knowing. The only thing he assures her of is that he’ll drive her back into the city afterwards. Traffic should be light, so she doesn’t fight him.

(That should’ve been another hint that this was something worth pursuing. She has a hard time letting go of control of plans, especially with people she hasn’t known for awhile.

She trusts him already)

When he hangs up, she thinks for a second. He had told her during their last date that he would let her know the second he landed.

And he did.

Huh.

*****

The next night, she’s nervous.

Dinner’s already been eaten. She caught the first period of his game, but had to leave to catch her trains to meet him. With encouraging words from Carrie paired with some hype up music, she’s on her way.

When she steps out of the station on this abnormally warm December night, she immediately sees him leaning against his car. His hair is damp from the shower he probably just took, and he’s sporting a peacoat over a sweater and blue jeans.

He perks up when he sees her and she practically skips over to him. She smiles and pulls him into a hug, and she feels him press a light kiss in her hair.

“Hey.” She says softly.

“Hi,” he mutters in her hair, pulling away to lean down and place a kiss on her cheek. “It’s good to see you.” He opens the door for her as she slides in, and she’s thankful that she followed her instincts and dressed comfortably in her beloved Minnesota sweatshirt, stifling a yawn as she thanked him. She puts on her seatbelt and leans back, watching him climb in.

He turns to her, “Wanna aux?”

“Are you sure?” She asks, already fiddling around to connect her Apple carplay.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckles, looking behind him to pull onto the road.

She shrugs. “What kind of music do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

She snorts. “You don’t mean that.” She scrolls through her playlists and debates on which one to do. “I saw that you guys lost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he replies automatically and she catches his eye and gives him a look of doubt. He corrects himself. “Okay, it’s frustrating, but none of that right now. I wanna hear about you. How’s your week been? Did that thing with your boss get resolved?”

She blinks. Right. She had mentioned that briefly when he called her earlier in the week. “Kinda.”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know. You gotta learn which battles to fight, you know? This one is one I don’t have to win.”

He nods with a soft hum, stopping at a red light. “Do you like milkshakes?”

She chuckles a bit at the change of topic. “I don’t mind them.”

“Wanna get some right now?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“No,” he admits. “Because I want one.”

“That can’t be on the diet plan you athletes have going on.”

“Oh, it definitely isn’t. Worth it though.”

“Do they have oreo or cookies and cream?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes.” He grins, and she takes a couple seconds just to watch it. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Thanks for coming out to Jersey at 10 pm.”

She chuckles. His heart drops to his stomach. “I had nothing else to do on a Friday night.”

He snorts. “Yeah, okay. I don’t believe that.”

“Really?”

He shrugs.

She leans back into her seat. “I don’t have the energy to hang out with people every night. Respect to the people who do. That’s just never been me. I can sit for hours and not talk to anyone.”

“You’re an introvert, then.”

“Is that surprising?”

He takes a second to think about it. “Yes, one, because you always talk about your friends so I know you have a lot. And two, because we literally talked for four hours on our first date.”

She shrugs, looking straight ahead of her to get the courage to respond. “There’s very few people in my life who I can talk with for hours.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky, then.”

She looks back over to him, watching as he shoots her a quick smile before he focuses back on the road. “How’s your week been?”

“The usual. Practices and games and travelling in the west coast, so I’m a little jetlagged, which isn’t great.”

“I didn’t realize that you guys play games like, every other day. Which is dumb, because like, it makes sense, but that just sounds exhausting. What am I saying though? It’s literally your job.”

He laughs softly and she tries to ignore the warmth spreading across her skin. “It can be tiring, for sure. But yeah, I love it, you know? Wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Just then, they pull into this small, unassuming diner and roll right through the drive-thru. He orders a chocolate milkshake and she gets an oreo one, and before he can think about it, she forces her credit card in his hand. He laughs and relents, and they pull out and are back on the road quickly. She sips on her milkshake and smiles to herself, not even asking where he’s driving them to next.

(She thinks they could be anywhere and she’d still want to keep talking to him forever. He thinks that practically every worry in his life could fade away if he could look at her smile for the rest of his life)

He rolls up to one of his favorite views in Jersey of midtown Manhattan, finding an alcove and backing his car into it. Hamilton Park. They both get out and all she can do is stand there and admire the stunning view, milkshake in hand. She’s literally breathless. The last time she remembers feeling like this is when she saw the Pantheon for the first time nearing midnight with her brother when they were in Rome in 2022. She doesn’t notice him unlocking the trunk and setting up the backseat with blankets and pillows until he softly calls her name.

(When her eyes met his, the glow of Manhattan in her eyes, he swears to this day that his heart skipped a beat. He was hers already then)

They settle into the makeshift couch, not quite touching but really freaking close.

“It’s beautiful,” she says softly, just looking at the view.

He hums, his eyes flickering between the view he knows too well and the girl who makes him feel better about who he is simply for just being around. It sure is.

She lets herself admire the view silently for a minute or so more, before she can’t take it anymore. “Jack?” She asks, still looking out.

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?”

Wrong answer, if the unimpressed expression on her face is any indication. She nudges her knee with his. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean. What are we doing? What are we?”

He shrugs, trying to ignore the frogs in his stomach. He should’ve known she was gonna bring it up first. She’s too smart not to. “I-I like you. Wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t. You-you’re amazing, you know that? I don’t think you realize how much you can just stay on someone’s mind. I know this is only our third date, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and I like who I am when I’m around you.”

She swallows, pausing to sip her milkshake and wiggling into the blankets. He thinks she’s adorable. “I haven’t liked someone in so long. I thought I forgot what it felt like. But then you asked me out and I see a text from you or hear you through my phone or see you on TV, and I’m like oh. I think I remember what it feels like now. It feels like this.”

He has to take a second because oh, maybe her dreams of becoming an author aren’t just words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She swallows again. “But I, I can’t do casual. I never have. I really, really wish I could

sometimes. So if that’s what you want, I can’t do it.”

“What makes you think I want casual?”

She snorts, “Because you’re a hot and talented hockey player? You can’t blame me for making the assumption.”

“You think I’m hot?”

Maia smacks him in the stomach. Jack laughs. She takes a breath. It’s now or never. “I just, I know you have girls in your DMs and your comments and everywhere else that are prettier and maybe could give you more of what you’re looking for or something that’s not…me.”

“You’re beautiful.”

She lets out a small noise and smiles slightly. “Thanks. But, I-I know that you have so many options. I won’t be hurt if I’m not the one you choose.”

He taps her knee so she’s paying attention and listening to his next words. “I-I’ve done casual before. I don’t think I can do that with you.”

“You can’t? Why not?”

“Well, A, because you don’t want to, which leads to B, I don’t want to. Not with you.” It’s his turn to swallow now as he looks at the skyline. “I really, really like you, Maia.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“All in?”

“All in.”

“You completely sure?” She interlaces her hand in with his and raises his knuckles up to her lips. He’s utterly floored. But he’s nervous. And she can sense it.

“Yes. I just…it’s, I’m not trying to backtrack. I mean, you’ve already seen some of it. Like, during the season, it’s intense. Game every two or three days, practice pretty much everyday, stretches of roadies and being away. I feel like, not that I doubt you or us or anything, but that’s not, I won’t be around as much as I should be. How is that fair to you?”

“Yeah, I mean, yeah. I figured that from the first day. I get it. Well, as much as I can get it. I’m sure it’s gonna be tough. I know it will be.” She squeezes his hand, leaning on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to try, then so am I.”

“You’re too good for me.”

She scoffs, grinning as he places a kiss on her temple. She places her milkshake by her side, summoning up some courage. She adjusts herself so that she’s fully facing him, and he just watches her intensely. With her white BU crewneck, a blanket around her shoulders, hair falling just past her shoulders, and the soft smile on her face, his mind goes quiet. Peaceful.

She kisses him first. Innocently and softly, before pulling back to gauge his reaction.

He responds quickly, cupping her cheek and pressing his lips against hers again. They’re both smiling into the kiss and everything feels calm. He wraps a hand around her waist as she maneuvers her hands around his neck, playing with his hair. She’s so lost in him that she doesn’t really realize that she moves herself so that she hovers over his lap, knees on either side of his hips. He has his hands placed on her lower back.

He lets out a low groan, “Baby.”

Her brain short circuits, both at the nickname (she’s always flinched at it before, but she loves the way he says it) and the timbre of his voice, but she has enough sense to pull away. They’re both breathing heavily. “Sorry,” she breathes out, leaning her forehead on his shoulder. She closes her eyes. She needs a second.

“Don’t be,” he says, bringing her face back up to his and brushing his thumbs on her cheek. “God, you’re so beautiful. I’ve been wanting to do that since the minute I saw you.”

She chuckles, sliding off of him and settling into his side, staring out at the skyline again. “You’ve had plenty of chances.”

“I kinda knew if I kissed you before knowing what we were, it would be more heartbreaking if you rejected me.”

“If I rejected you?”

“Yes.”

“In what world would I have rejected you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad it’s not this world.”

She keeps herself from rolling her eyes, and just leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Because, you know, she can do that now.

(That night, staring out at the stunning skyline of a city she has grown to love, with the warmth of the blankets over her legs and over her shoulder, a boy she was very quickly growing to care for deeply pressed by her side, telling her he feels the same way, she felt lifted. Free.

Unstoppable)

(When he drops her home, it’s 1:18 a.m. and she doesn’t want to get out of the car. With the way his hand has been attached to her thigh, it seems like he doesn’t want her to get out either. But he has an 11 am practice tomorrow and he just had a game. He’s exhausted.

He kisses her once, twice, a third time before letting her go. As soon as she steps through the lobby of her apartment building and out of view, his grin practically splits his face. He smiles all the way home)

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bitchface24-7 · 3 days ago

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This is a really short request but jayvik x reader who like just randomly cut her hair short one day for no reason other than vibes

A SMALL CHANGE - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you’ve always had luscious hair. It was the main thing people complimented you on, and you’re starting to hate it. You’ve always wanted to change your hairstyle; try something new. After a minor crash out, you’ve got no choice but to chop it all off. Hopefully, you won't regret it in the morning.

warnings: y'all smoke in this, crash out (no reason in particular described), impulsively cutting your hair, overthinking, your boys LOVE the new look; stop being a silly goose, fluff, pre-established relationship, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I went through a phase for a few years where the longest my hair went was just brushing my shoulders. I had a french bob for a while, I even experimented with bangs that weren't curtain style. I'd love to go as short as Winona is up above but I'd like to re-experience my long hair again before that. Hope y'all enjoy!

Life’s been kicking your ass recently

Nothing has gone to plan. Your work life, social life, hell even some of your romantic life has taken a small hit due to the importance of Hextech and he council breathing down your boys necks.

So one day, when they're out late, and you mean late at the lab, the straw finally broke the camels back. And you crashed out. Hard.

After all this built-up tension, and frustration, you just couldn't take it anymore.

In an oversized t-shirt stolen from Jayce and a simple pair of underwear, you snag your pack of cigarettes out of your bedside drawer. You quickly sit on your windowsill in your room and pop a cigarette in between your lips and start to puff like a train.

It’s not helping you in the way it usually does. You're running your hands through your hair, your leg is bouncing up and down incessantly, your anxiety hasn't wained at all.

As you look out into the distance and see the councillor's tower, you get up and stomp your way to the bathroom. You hastily enter the ensuite and slam your hands into the counter, swiping off all of your toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, and deodorant.

You look in the mirror and glare at yourself, inhaling shakily and exhaling the cigarette still gently placed in your mouth. You open the medicine cabinet and grab a pair of scissors, and without even thinking, you grab a chunk of hair.

Snip.

You freeze for a moment. Holy shit. You just… yup. You just cut a good chunk of hair off. Maybe like… six inches? Seven?

Well, shit. You don't have the power to reverse time so… you've gotta fix this. You've always wanted to change your hair, even if others disagreed with you. But you thought you'd be in a salon chair getting this mini makeover, not at three in the morning as you angrily cut your hair without thinking.

So you do just that. You start to cut your hair.

Snip.

More and more hair falls into the sink, it's almost a ridiculous amount. It looks like a small dog at this point. A little bit of layering here, face-framing pieces here, you even add some curtain bangs to accentuate your features.

Almost all of your hair is in the sink by the time you're done. You calmly place the scissors down and look at yourself in the mirror, appreciating your work.

The haircut is the shortest your hair has ever been. It stops at the nape of your neck, there are longer layers, curtain bangs, and a nice voluminousness to your hair now. You run a hand through your hair and giggle. It's so short, so light, so different.

You put two fingers onto your cigarette and inhale once more, taking the tobacco out of your mouth and slowly exhaling, you rub one eye with the hand holding the cigarette, aiming the lighted end away from your face and hair. You smile at yourself in the mirror.

You look good. Better than good. You look fantastic! You freeze for a moment when a freight train hits you. Oh god. Viktor and Jayce have no idea about what you've just done. They're gonna come home and all your hair is essentially gone. What if they hate it? What if they think you're ugly? What if they break up with you?

You shut those thoughts down quickly. They're not vain. They won't break your heart over something so minuscule. You put the cigarette back in between your lips and clean up the bathroom. Cleaning the sink by tossing all the hair you can into the trash, the rest going down the drain. You pick up all the care items you swiped and put them back in their respective spots.

You take one last look in the mirror and casually stroll back to your bedroom, finishing the cigarette and putting it out in your ashtray at the windowsill. A light groan escapes you as you stretch and bundle yourself into your bed. You'll worry about Jayce and Viktor's reaction in the morning.

Its now the morning and you completely forgot about what you did until you wake up and run a hand through your hair.

You chopped it all off last night. Oops.

Some noise in the kitchen disturbs your thoughts, so you whip on some comfy pajama shorts and put some slippers onto your feet, the floors are cold in the morning.

Jayce is bustling in the kitchen as Viktor sits at the island sipping his coffee, and reading the newspaper.

Their attention immediately turns to you when they hear you shuffle into the room. They look shocked at your appearance.

“Holy shit babe,” Jayce starts, almost dropping a pan, “Your hair. It looks—”

“Bad.” You nervously interrupt, as your eyes dart between the two of them. Jayce's jaw stays dropped as he checks you out, Viktor lightly shakes his head and smirks “Good. He was going to say it looks good darling. Phenomenal I’d say. It frames your face wonderfully, and it leaves more skin exposed.”

You feel your face heat up at his deceleration and run a hand through your hair, it fluffs up your bangs and it makes Jayce choke a bit as Viktor sniggers. You sit next to Viktor and he immediately places a kiss on your bare shoulder. “See? Oversized shirt, short hair, easy access.”

A small snort escapes you as you lightly slap Viktor in the chest, “You perv.”

“It's the truth! Jayce, tell them!”

Jayce looks at you, eyes big and pleading, “He’s right. I thought you were attractive before but wow… this haircut really suits you.”

You can't help but smile at your two boys. Your mind made you think the craziest thougts. Jumping through fire to get to those conclusions. But you knew they really wouldn't mind, they love you, not your hair.

And they seem to really really like it.

So having a minor crash out at three in the morning and impulsively cutting your hair was a good thing after all. Who knew?

I too have impulsively cut my hair at 3am, the shortest I went was a french bob. I'm currently growing my hair out after having it short for three years. I want long hair again for a while before doing a big chop like the one up above.

#arcane #viktor arcane #jayce talis #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #jayce x viktor x reader #jayvik x reader #fem!reader #male!reader #gender neutral reader #banners by cafekitsune

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kryptznnn · 3 days ago

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Hiya!

I hope you're doing well

I had sorta of a specific request fem! reader x Bakugo first time (nsfw)? Reader and Bakugo known each other since middle school and hated each other's guts but then in the first year of ua thing start to change... Like a enemies to rivals to lovers thingy

And they confess to each other a day before the final war

Now it's several months after that and when Bakugo takes reader for hiking on the weekend but then end up having their first time in the hot springs?

Sorry if it's too much! Thankss!!❤️✨

♛/♡- Take It Easy

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➸ INTERESTS; - aged up! katsuki bakugo x f!quirk-using reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - (requested submission) Before the final war, Katsuki had made you promise to him your safety and future with one another, and you did. It wasn’t expected for either of you however for you to end up in a coma after the battle. After waking up you hadn’t expected everything to take a turn for the better so quickly.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.5.8k, mentions of memory loss, comatose mentions, reader in a hospital patient, fast recovery, angst, fluff, kissing, vacation mentions, smut, p in v, orgasm mention (both f and m), etc.

➸a.i; - im so sorry this is so late oh my god, ive been going through lots of loads but im bulldozing through other works!! bare w me!

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“I love you”

The words echoed in your mind as you sat in your hospital bed, accompanied by concerned family. For the first time ever possibly, you saw your father cry, he never did. The entire situation just an hour ago was intense and very emotional, you hadn’t even known, but apparently you were in a coma.

And not for a short period of time, because when you had asked if it was for a week or a month your mother only scoffed before crying again. Your father was the one to break the news to you saying it had been nearly over half a year. You felt your heart race and breathing begin to quicken when you heard his words, quickly lunging for your phone that had been handed to you and checking the year.

You began to cry, harder than before now when you realized what had happened. After the battle you were fatally injured, but all of your wounds were long healed now, even the scars were faded, but over half a year of your life had been gone. Your family, your friends, birthdays, holidays, memories, all of it had gone to waste.

After your settlement and small discussion with your family you couldn’t help but think about your friends, or more importantly Katsuki. His confession and promise still ringing in your head as before as you sat off and stared into space.

It’s been over half a year, maybe things have changed even more than you thought. He could’ve moved on or even forgot about all of you and everything that had happened. Either that or he was too embarrassed to even see you. A frown quickly appeared on your face as you gripped your covers softly.

Your family immediately took sign of your reactions but before anything else could be said or done, a nurse had soon walked in saying everything had been cleared and you were free to go. As you prepped yourself and changed your clothing you had felt your phone buzz in your pocket, but you hadn’t paid it any mind and continued on with your night.

You helped your family pack the car as majority of your stuff was with you in the room until you had woken up. In all honesty after hearing half a year has passed you were surprised you were still alive, let alone that no one had given up on you during your time period of being here.

As you were on the road with your parents you asked them about it, they had responded saying that over the months you had progressed. Slight movements or even weak speech, and they knew that they still had a shot with you. It was more of you being lost within your own mind during the period, and the possibility of your quirk keeping you in a comatose like state out of fear.

That made sense for a moment, at least satisfactory towards you. As you pulled your phone from within your pocket you had also been given back your old headphones, smiling as you connected them to your phone before playing music. As you went through your phone with messages or social media you were surprised to see hundreds of messages and notifications all in your favor, entirely overwhelming you.

You made it your mission for this week before going to bed every night to speak to each and every single one of them. Speaking of what had happened and that you were back to your full potential and thanking them for their prayers and support over the months. Some of them cried and wanted to immediately come and visit you, but you informed them already that you’d have to clear that with your parents first as they didn’t want you to be too overwhelmed.

After some time had passed you looked over the contact on your phone, hesitating to call you. You had hundreds of missed calls from him, and you wondered why if he knew where you were. Katsuki knew you were in the hospital and your parents never seized to speak of how he would leave his classes just to spend time with you here.

Apparently the first time you seemed responsive in the hospital he was there, and they had seen him smile for the first time. He would read to you, play music for you, and even just speak about his day. Everything hit you as hot flashes or blurs, and you weren’t exactly able to pinpoint the voice to the face from those long nights.

It was slightly surprising to say the least, no one had taken him as the romantic or caring type. Well, you knew he was, that’s what he had told you when he confessed to you before the war, as you did to him. Maybe it was his own way of coping with what had happened, the promise you shared with one another played back in your head.

"I’ll be waiting for you after all of this, I promise I’ll be safe, don’t cry.” He spoke to you, wiping your face slightly before smiling and leaving you behind with the other girls. Now here you sat in your room after half a year from then, different bedsheets and stuffy air, pressing ‘call’ on his contact list.

You listened to your phone ring for a while before checking the time at the top left corner, immediately hanging up once you realized how late it had been. Since the two of you were young, he never slept late, always an early bird. He hated how much you’d lecture and bully him about it calling him a grandpa, and he was always quick to insult you in return.

It was funny honestly thinking back to it all, the two of you seemed to despise one another in middle school, quick to throw insults and even get into physical fights where you’d have to be separated. Over time as you two matured and entered high school it wasn’t missed how the atmosphere seemed the change, your friend groups merging as you two had genuine priorities instead of just messing around with one another.

As much as you tried to avoid him it seemed nearly impossible, the universe going against your wishes and placing the two of you in situations almost constantly. Eventually the two of you had gotten closer and kept the label as friends, and surprisingly Katsuki was the first to come to you, mature enough to apologize for the past and all that’s happened between you two.

You too had apologized for your actions, knowing you were a handful and far from perfect when you were caught on a bad day. It seemed almost so sudden afterwards you couldn’t help but feel an attraction towards him, or possibly the attraction you had prior becoming stronger and transforming into something neither of you had expected.

At first when the others joked and placed the two of you together as a couple for pranks it bothered you, you would deny immediately and move on towards different things as Katsuki only got angry. Sooner than later as the jokes became more and more the two of you had just stopped arguing and defending it, as you thought he stopped because he was tired of it.

For someone who could argue for hours he sure seemed quiet towards the allegations of any romance or crushing happening between the two of you. You would only look away feeling your face warm slightly as you listened to your friends' troubling words, laughing afterwards to look over at Katsuki, who wore a small smile on his lips, only for you.

You tapped your knee before deciding to send him a text instead, hopefully able to read it when he woke up. As you began to type your mind wandered over what might’ve happened over the past year. If anyone had moved or gotten together, maybe by some miracle graduated early and continued with their training to become heroes.

[You: Hey, I know you’re asleep, when you wake up call me? I’m back home now and you’re the only person I haven’t had the chance to talk to]

You reread the message before hitting send, ensuring that was probably the most formatted message you could send. It was also similar to the same things you had said to others on the phone or in text messages to those that couldn’t stay on the phone.

You quickly got ready for bed afterwards as you charged your phone and said your goodnight to everyone before heading off. Surprisingly you fell asleep rather quickly than before, now dozing.

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You awoke to your mother knocking on your door and waking you up. You sat up groggily as you heard her words, slightly slurred in your ears but she ended up repeating herself as you took your covers off.

“You have a visitor, they’re waiting for you downstairs, and also pack a bag, you’ll be on a trip for a while.” She said before waving you off and closing the door to give you privacy.

You cursed mentally thinking of how random the scenario sounded. You had just been discharged a little over 24 hours ago and now you’re going on a trip? It all seemed so sudden to you but to your mother it seemed as if she had already known and everything was planned.

You only shrugged it off and went to the bathroom you had familiarized yourself with before preparing yourself. You soon got ready and washed up before making your way back to your room and began packing. You packed your old clothing, makeup, anything a girl could for any trip imaginable into a suitcase and carry-on bag. Grabbing your other essentials such as your chargers and wallet leaving them in the outside pockets before making your way into the living room.

As you were lost in thought you checked your messages, eager to see who had answered you, or more specifically if Katsuki had. To your dismay he hadn’t, only leaving your message on seen early this morning around 7. You checked the time before announcing your presence in the kitchen, 11:27am.

“Good morning, I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to pack so I kind of packed everything? I got a bathing suit too just in case.” You mentioned awkwardly looking at your suitcase that had dragged behind you before looking into the kitchen to see your mother. She only nodded and pointed towards the dining room, making you leave your bag behind as you peered behind the wall to see your father sitting down chatting with someone.

“Katsuki…” you breathed in disbelief when you saw the familiar haircut of the boy. He turned his head quickly, cutting off your father before immediately pushing back his chair and pulling you into a hug you tightly. To which you hugged him back and practically sobbed into his shoulder, as you quickly pulled back and wiped your face you cupped his face with your hands, examining him.

He had so many new scars you had never seen before, or any that you would remember for the most part. It was so good seeing him, it felt as if you two had spent a lifetime apart. Being around one another since middle school hadn’t helped the fact you were gone for so long either. He wore a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, his hair was different, the same color but he must’ve had an undercut from where you were standing.

Whatever it was it suited him, he’s changed so much and yet so little in just barely a year. You knew it wasn’t the same for you though, if anything from the time you spent in the hospital you had definitely shed a few pounds and your hair had grown longer, not being able to get as much nutrients as you had when woken.

“You haven’t changed, at all.” He spoke, keeping his hands at your sides as he examined your figure and face, you only shook your head and smiled before pointing to the large scar on his cheek.

“I could heal this for you, you know? Don’t have to keep it forever, it changes your face so much.” You spoke as you rubbed it slightly, he shook his head and ushered you to take a seat beside him, your breakfast already being there. You obliged and sat down beside him taking a bit of the food in front of you before he spoke.

“Nah, I like it this way. Plus, everyone else thinks it makes me look badass.” He spoke, nodding to himself out of approval, you only laughed at him, covering your mouth as you ate. Without you even realizing your parents had both left the area, possibly going to the living room or their bedroom who knows.

You finished your food quickly as you listened to Katsuki speak of everything that had happened with him over the past year. He made sure to fill in every detail and not leave out anything, seeing your confused, upset, excited, or disgusted expressions at his words, smirking at each of them.

As you cleaned yourself up and listened to his plans, he had spoken to your parents prior. For when you were discharged, he wanted to take you out properly to celebrate with you, as he had planned too after the battle, but was unable too because of your condition. The dots clicked in your head as to why your mother had asked you to just now pack everything you could as you had a surprise awaiting you.

Till now it was still a surprise, as Katsuki refused to reveal the destination of where you two were headed after you said your goodbyes to your family. You two shared excessive conversation the entire trip, only taking a little under an hour to arrive as he took the highway.

You had been in his car before, only once a twice before hand after his small confession between the two of you. He had taken you out several times, the two of you enjoying the time together, however now felt different. You knew how much had changed, but you just didn't expect you'd been out for so long.

You appreciated how much he tried to take your mind off of it when you confessed how you really felt, feeling as if you lost a large piece of yourself. He never failed to make you laugh and feel as if nothing had changed between the two of you, and honestly it hasn't.

After his confession just days before he had gotten matching necklaces for the two of you. You loved to ridicule him on it, never taking him for the sappy type or extreme lover type of person, but you could see how honestly. Deep down under that tough layer of attitude and hardships was just a caring man, and you appreciated everything he had done. He wasn't afraid to hide it either, he confessed it as he held it between his fingers showing it to you as he drove.

The only time it wasn't out for all to see was when he was out on his minor hero duties, tucking it within his uniform as a safety precaution. By some miracle during the battle, you had kept yours, expecting it to be lost in battle. It stayed on until now, and you fidgeted around with your own as he showed you with a smile before looking out the window to the side, watching the sunset as several colors mixed into the sky.

He opened the window for you, but not entirely. You closed your eyes and rested partial of your head and arm against the window as you felt the wind blow into your hair. It felt peaceful, it was peaceful, you were having so much fun and couldn’t wait for what was in store later on in the day once you arrived at your destination.

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"You brought me to a springs resort?" You asked, stepping out of the car raising a brow as Katsuki stood at your door, closing it behind you. He only nodded before going over to the trunk of his car and opening it.

"Yeah, but we'll be doing plenty of stuff this week, wanna get you back in your vibe n' have some fun." He spoke, now getting both your suitcase and bag along with his own, holding them in each hand. You were quick to take your luggage from him as he complained about it, before locking his car and speed walking ahead of you.

You only laughed a small while and followed right behind him, listening closely to his small conversation with the receptionist. You watched him pull out a card that you hadn't recognized before thanking the receptionist and quickly locking arms with you before walking off.

You raised a brow at him as the two of you made it over to the room number you were sure to memorize from the receptionist's words, '163'. You still couldn’t wrap your head around everything that’s happened to you in just the past two weeks from waking up from the hospital.

It was a lot to deal with, and you were surprised with just how well you were handling it. You’d heard of others and even seen movies of how people were after waking from a coma, losing memories, constantly fatigued, practically shifting into a different person, and yet here you were, stronger than ever. Maybe it was your quirk helping you with the most of it, but you felt fine, better than fine, you felt perfect.

Although times have changed and you’ve missed out on a lot of things, to Katsuki you were always there. Even if he was tired throughout his worst days of training or duty, he’d still stop by the hospital just to talk his feelings out.

You admired that about your relationship, the two of you weren’t all loud and public, because that didn’t matter. What mattered was how you too felt about one another and didn’t let anyone come between you two. Katsuki wasn’t a vocal person; he wasn’t the type to be out there or express himself all the time.

He was more of a physical person, the definition of ‘actions are louder than words'. He was never afraid to hold your hand or stick close to you wherever the two of you were, and you loved it. Like right now, how his hands were full as he held luggage from the car and the key to open the door and yet still kept his arm linked with yours.

He let you walk in first and was quick to follow behind you, placing the bags down by the door side and following in your steps. You took time to scan the room before turning to him quickly, a wave of dizziness hitting you before you hunched over holding your head.

He was quick to come to your side, his hands holding your shoulders and ushering you to side down. He knelt in front of you as you sat, caressing your cheek with a hand before placing it on your forehead with a frown.

You quickly swatted his hand away, rolling your eyes and scoffing. Irritation was quick to come flooding into your chest, you were perfectly fine. You’re here for vacation, not to be babied, there’s no way this was happening now of all times.

“I’m fine, I just missed my step.” You said, earning a raised brow from Katsuki, who now sat with his legs crossed in front of you while your legs were planted on the floor from the edge of the bed.

“You missed your step because your dizzy, that move was too quick for you, js take it easy.” He spoke, tapping your knee before getting up to get the bags in front of the door. You only watched him with a slight frown, maybe this vacation wasn’t going to be as much fun as you thought.

You were going to get up, but hesitated, anxiety slowly replacing the irritation in your chest from earlier. You wanted to help, especially with your own bags, even as Katsuki insisted, he had everything handled, it wouldn’t kill him to have a little help.

You only sat there in your thoughts, debating as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks. Initially you gave up with a sigh, now laying flat back down on the bed with a thud, causing Katsuki to perk his head up.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything about there only being one bed.” He spoke, you only turned your head and smiled softly, listening to him as he walked out of the bathroom and began checking the drawers in the room.

“I was going to say something before I toppled over.” You spoke in honesty, closing your eyes as you did so. It was the only reason you had turned around so suddenly, prepared to make a joke out of it before the situation escalated far from what either of you two had expected.

You heard shuffling from your side before feeling the bed sink as he sat next to you. You turned your head to look up at him with a smile, to which he returned the favor. Just as you did so a thought popped up in your head that you had no choice but to say aloud.

“Sorry for not being there for your birthday.” You said in a joking manner, nudging him in efforts to laugh with you as you began giggling. You soon stopped and looked at him with a look of regret when his smile formed into a straight line, now turning his head to look at the wall.

Honestly, if he were to speak on the situation, he wasn’t sure if he would be more hurt to see your reaction if he told you what happened or just remembering it all together. Whatever outcome was to show he was sure he wasn’t going to say even a word of everything.

Throughout the whole day you had always asked him how he was doing, and now he was happy, perfect even. He had gotten back the one thing that he couldn’t fathom losing, his mother had always spoken of how some people grieve differently and he never understood until your accident.

Katsuki hadn’t grieved, whether distance relatives who passed which he had to attend their funerals, or past pets that’ve run away, he never grieved. He was so quick to channel any other emotion he was feeling into rage that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself while you were gone.

His parents asked him countless times what he wanted for his birthday, whether it was a new car or anything they could afford. Just to cheer him up they even mentioned having a party or getting his favorite kind of cake, but when his response to what he wanted was you they could only turn to one another with a frown.

For the first time in all of his years of celebrating his birthday he cried. He wasn’t sure as to why he couldn’t stop, but whenever you came to mind, he just couldn’t help it. His entire room was filled with you, framed pictures you’d placed on his dresser, or the shoes and hair ties you’d purposely leave, all of it stayed in his room, always left untouched. Not to mention the fact alone that he went on to call your phone countless times just to hear your voicemail.

That day was also one of the first times he hadn’t come to visit you where you rested, and the guilt nearly ate him alive. It broke his mothers' heart to see her only child this way, and it hurt even more knowing she couldn’t console him and say everything would be alright when she herself didn’t even know if it was true.

So, he decided to close all of it off, not let it go and erase it, there was no erasing it. It was easier holding onto you now and pushing to move forward than hold onto the past of everything that’s happened. He knew all couples went through situations that would impact their relationship, but if strong enough they’d overcome it, that’s simply what’s happening now.

“It’s okay” he spoke, his voice hoarse as he stood up to look outside, seeing that it was getting late as the colors of the sky were drained. He turned to you, now sitting up on the bed remembering his plans for the night. Thankfully the two of you had eaten before arriving here, completing the easiest task before this one.

“Are you okay?” You asked, now getting out of the bed with caution as you made your way up to Katsuki, opening your arms to offer a hug. He cocked his head to the side before smirking at you, leaning over to embrace you before kissing your cheek.

“Did you pack a bathing suit? Got something I wanna show ya’.” He spoke, grinning at you as he pointed out the door, you only nodded to his question, curiosity now gnawing at your brain. “Go in the bathroom and put it on, I’ll wait for you.” He spoke cheerfully you only nodded awkwardly as you went to do so.

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You were currently walking blindfolded with Katsuki in front of you, or at least you hoped he was. He was holding your hand tightly as he walked slowly, ushering for you to not remove your blindfold. It was cold, and not just because you were wearing your two-piece bathing suit, but because of the cold air that blew from behind you. You could practically feel the goosebumps ridden all over your skin.

"Y'know I had planned this to be a hiking trip, but I didn't wanna take any risks with ya'." He spoke, now placing both of his hands on your shoulders and standing from behind you before removing your blindfolds. "So, we're choosing the safer option tonight." He finished, watching your reaction as you opened your eyes to see the hot springs in front of the two of you, and surprisingly vacant.

He had explained everything to you in order to calm some of your nerves down, this was simple and sweet, he had planned everything out since before the great battle, but the aftermath pushed back everything. Even so, when he woke up in the middle of the night to see a missed call from you and his other friends texting him about your status, he was quick to rebook his reservation and pay everything off late and let your parents know it early morning.

He was sure this was a perfect idea, it was safe, and the water was warm, of course it was safe, anywhere with him was safe. He too had never let go of your hand, only intertwining your fingers with one another as he smiled at you softly, pulling you deeper into the water until the warm waves clashed against your shoulders and his torso repetitively with your actions.

"You look so beautiful" was all he said, you smiled widely and looked off to the side, nodding as a 'thank you' and placing your hands on your arms crossing them before undoing it as your bathing suit strap loosened and fell. You were quick to toss it back over your shoulder properly before Katsuki took notice of it, raising a brow.

"Sorry, it's kind of loose on me, I haven't worn it in... a while." You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you thought back on everything. It wasn't surprising that in the time that had passed you'd lost weight, but even before hand you hadn't really liked speaking or boasting on your body, now it felt as if things were unfamiliar to you, and you weren't sure how to handle it.

"I'll fix the straps for ya, js' turn around." He spoke, positioning himself upright against one of the rocky walls behind the two of you. You only nodded and obliged, fixing yourself properly against him as you held onto the top of your bathing suit, looking away at anything to ease your mind of the tension that circled you two.

It was normal to have tension, you two were a couple, this is a couple thing. You took a deep breath, exhaling softly as you felt Katsuki's fingertips brush against your back and shoulders, adjusting your straps. He was gentle and his hands were warm, relieving you of the previous goosebumps you had. He had moved your tied hair to the side, gently placing his hand over your neck in a swift movement before lowering himself to kiss you on your upper shoulder, making you shudder slightly.

You gave in of course, being taken by surprise before but now relaxing a bit in his hold, he was quick to lower both hands now, embracing you from behind. You smiled to yourself softly as you closed your eyes and rested your head back on his chest, feeling him press a kiss on the top of your head before speaking.

"I missed you, a lot." He said, you chuckled a bit and shook your head at his words, feeling flattered he felt that way and that you were able to make him feel that way. Honestly if you were to travel back in time to you 10 years ago there was no way you would've expected to get this far with Katsuki, then again here the two of you are.

"Careful, your extra soft sweet spot is showing, thought you wanted everyone to know you're badass." You spoke with a smile, hearing him scoff at your joke as you laughed, he only held you tighter before speaking again.

"I feel more comfortable with you" he said with a sigh, making you frown slightly with sadness. You only turned to him and flashed a smile, letting the guilt that sat heavily in your chest die down as you brought your hands up to his face and caressed it.

"I'm not going anywhere, I swear it." You said sternly, nodding as you looked into his eyes, he only smiled and turned his head to the side, kissing your hand. Without any hesitation he leaned down to kiss you passionately, and you nearly immediately gave in, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him in deeper.

He was quick to respond, lowering his hands that were wrapped up around your back lower, underneath your bottom in a way to saddle you up. You jumped slightly and slowly, the water slowing your movements, but it was just enough to get you into his arms and up on him as the two of you continued to exchange kisses.

You were the first to pull away, locking eyes with him as you caught your breath, as he did his as he placed you down back into the water smoothly. You watched as he diverted his eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with you, you quickly followed his face and stood in front of him, smiling and nodding to him.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He asked, his face covered in worry and concern to what you two were speaking of, taking things to the next step. You replied back to him with a firm answer and nodding with a smile again, kissing his cheek as a way to calm him a bit.

Oh, and trust it definitely worked, because as of now he had you pinned against the rocky walls underneath him as your moans echoed in the corner against the warm waves bouncing between the two of you. Your arms were flapped over his shoulders as he kissed your face all over, kissing the corners of your mouth trying to get you to kiss him again as you were distracted, focusing on trying to make this moment last longer before your second orgasm of the night began to build up.

You were also attempting to be as quiet as possible; it wasn't easy when Katsuki was purposely trying to fish noises out of you, angling your hips higher to thrust into you over and over again, grunting into your ear. You were hot and sticky, and your heart felt as if it was bursting out of your chest from such a euphoric moment you haven't went through before.

You were unaware of how much time had passed by but honestly, you wish you could stop time itself just to stay in this moment. Katsuki was so sweet with you, practically babying you through your previous orgasm and doing the same this time, he was so full of passion like you've never seen before.

The pit of your stomach began to tighten again as you dug your fingernails into the sides of his arms and shoulders as he penetrated you, the faint sounds of your sticky flesh clapping against one another echoing against the rocky walls.

"Kats... slow down, I-"

"Easy, easy, you close? I got ya'" He cut off, kissing the side of your face quickly before reaching one of his hands down towards your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion against the water. Your moans grew louder, now clashing your head down against his collar bones feeling your head spin and the heat between your legs get worse.

It hadn't helped that you two were in the water, it had splashed against your clit and nipples numerous times and every time felt more overwhelming than the last. There it was, that heat getting higher and higher with the coil getting tighter and tighter in your abdomen, without a second thought you threw your head back, just an inch away from hitting the rock walls.

It was written all over your face how unstable you had become, how close you were, Katsuki could read it all over your face the same way you could see the same expression on his face. He looked so handsome to you, his eyes shut tight as if trying to concentrate on his own orgasm.

Wrong, he was focusing on holding it in, not wanting to reach his peak before you. He had already taken two breaks before to try and stop the buildup, but he was so tired, his body was giving out, he was certain he wasn't going to last a minute longer. He was right about that, because right after you reached your climax only a few seconds after he was quick to pull out of you, groaning loudly into your shoulder as his body jerked forward.

It had taken a while for the two of you to catch your breath, yours a little longer than Katsuki, making him worry somewhat before coming down from his high. There wasn't a moment shared afterwards between the two of you where there wasn't any skin-to-skin contact, and you loved it.

"Let's finish this night in the bedroom don't you think?"

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