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cherryxbooo · 17 hours ago

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You’re my ideal type

Summary: A video from a year ago of Oscar talking about his ideal type went viral, making his fans wonder why he chose his girlfriend. This leaves y/n with a lot of questions herself .

Note: First time writing for Oscar! I kinda went with the flow. Let me know what you think! 😌

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: fluff/angst

It was a beautiful, sunny day in Monaco. I was out with two of my friends, enjoying brunch together and soaking up the good vibes.

We spent hours talking, laughing, and joking around—overall, it was a fantastic time.

Afterward, we decided to go for a stroll. That’s when we stumbled upon a gorgeous spot with an incredible view. For girls, that can only mean one thing: a photo session. And, of course, we took full advantage.

We snapped countless pictures of each other—exactly what I needed. I’d been wanting to update my Instagram feed, and I knew Oscar would appreciate a few of these too. A win-win situation if you ask me.

Hours later, we decided to head home. Parting ways was bittersweet, but we all had things to do.

When I finally arrived at the place Oscar and I shared, I immediately went inside, feeling my social battery completely drained.

I glanced at the clock and sighed. There were still a few hours to go before Oscar would be home. Feeling a little bored, I decided to tackle some household chores to pass the time.

Eventually, I finished everything and switched to full-on "bed rotting" mode. As I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, I remembered the stunning photos we’d taken earlier.

Sitting up, I started going through them, carefully picking out the best ones to upload to Instagram.

yourusername posted on Instagram!

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yourusername Days like these ☀️💐

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oscarpiastri Pretties girl ❤️ by author

alexandrasaintmleux Gorgeous ❣️

yourusername Says you 💋

f1_dailylvr81 She's so girly coded love it 💅

fashionistaformula I can't be the only one thinking about that one interview of Oscar?

paistryln481 You're not alone, every time I see her I keep thinking about it

foryoutt16 Wait what? I'm lost, what happened?

cocosainzyy55 @foryoutt16 An old interview of Oscar when he was still in F2 resurfaced and he was talking about his ideal type and the description he gave matches nothing to his current girlfriend. People are suddenly bringing this up again, wondering why he didn't choose his ideal type.

foryoutt16 Oh damn that's rough...

The comments and likes flooded in, as they always did. Sometimes, I forgot that I was dating an F1 driver—it came with its own kind of spotlight.

But as I scrolled through the comments under my post, a few things caught my attention.

One comment in particular stood out: something about an old interview of Oscar.

Confused and curious, I decided to look it up. Little did I know, I was about to regret it...

My stomach twisted into knots as I watched the video, realization sinking in. Oscar described his ideal woman, and her characteristics were unlike ones I possessed. I felt a wave of insecurities and doubts wash over me, each word a reminder of how I didn't fit the bill for his ideal partner.

My heart sank with every word he spoke, describing his ideal woman's qualities - and every one felt like another reminder of how far off the mark I was.

I couldn't help but wonder, "Why did he choose me?" His words stung, and I questioned whether he settled for less than his ideal because he didn't have better options.

On cue, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Oscar returned home and called out my name. His voice echoed through the hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. I hesitated, a mix of fear and confusion gripping me, as I debated whether to face him with this newfound knowledge.

He entered the room with a warm smile, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. He greeted me with a gentle kiss on the forehead before starting to speak in sweet words.

"Hey babe, how was your day?" he asked, completely unaware of the recent discovery I made.

I forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside as I replied, "It was fine," my voice trying to mask the disappointment and insecurity that bubbled up.

The words left my lips, sounding hollow compared to the usual warmth in my tone.

Oscar sensed the hint of falsity in my fake smile. His observant nature picked up on the subtle cues of my distress, and he recognized that something was off. Yet, instead of immediately asking about it, he chose to hold off, observing to see if I would bring it up.

Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed my temple gently, his touch providing a temporary sense of comfort.

He knew something was bothering me and chose not to press, offering a moment of respite instead. "Do you want takeout?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

I replied softly, trying to match his tenderness, "Sounds good." Despite my conflicting emotions, I didn't want to dampen the mood by revealing my insecurities.

"Takeout sounds great," I said, attempting to sound cheerful.

Oscar reluctantly let go of me, reaching for the phone to place the takeout order. In his absence, I seized the opportunity to sneak a look in the mirror, as well as to search for pictures of Oscar's ideal type.

I scoured the internet, comparing every aspect of my appearance to the images of his ideal woman. The comparison fueled my insecurities, amplifying the feeling of not measuring up.

My tears threatened to spill as I stood there, comparing myself to Oscar's ideal, but before they could, I heard Oscar's voice calling out.

"Y/n baby, the food will be here in twenty minutes," he informed me. I swiftly wiped away the tears before responding, attempting to hide the vulnerability in my voice, "Okay, thanks for letting me know."

Splashing my face with water to compose myself, hoping to hide any traces of my tears and distress. With determination, I dried my face and returned to the room where Oscar was, trying to mask my vulnerability.

After the food came, we ate together. I was quiet, it was mainly Oscar talking which was odd because normally it was always me talking and he would listen. We were currently cuddled up together after eating

Despite our cozy cuddle on the couch, my mind was preoccupied with worries. Thoughts like "What if he leaves me?" and "What if I'm not good enough?" consumed me.

Oscar noticed my distraction and asked if I was alright, concern in his voice. I replied, "Just tired," and although he didn't fully believe it, he decided not to push further.

Oscar spoke up once more, his voice soft and reassuring. "Y/n?" he began, his eyes searching mine.

"You know I love you, right? If there's anything bothering you, you know you can tell me," he emphasized, his tone filled with patience and support.

I nodded, attempting to hide the depth of my worries and insecurities. "Yeah, I know. I love you too," I responded, trying to sound reassuring.

The words felt heavy, knowing the weight of my unspoken fears.

A few weeks had passed since that moment of insecurity, and I had been avoiding Oscar, even though we lived together. I had made excuses to skip every Grand Prix , claiming I was too busy with work.

Yet, here I was, facing the mirror on the morning of a home race, feeling utterly unprepared. The interview weighed heavily on my mind, and I wasn't in the right state to face it.

Standing in front of my reflection, I looked at myself, thoughts of my inadequacy resurfacing.

Oscar entered the room, his gaze settling on me. He positioned himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.

His presence brought both comfort and nerves as I stood in front of the mirror, still grappling with my insecurities.

He spoke softly, his compliment genuine and sweet. "I didn't know it was possible to be this pretty. You look amazing love," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

I stepped away from him, the compliment not offering the comfort it usually would. My actions were distant, as if I was subconsciously putting up a barrier.

"Thanks," I responded distantly, my tone devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied my words.

The fear of his departure and my sense of inadequacy still lingered in my heart, casting a shadow over the moment.

Oscar seemed puzzled by my distant behavior, his confusion evident. Seeing right through my attempt to avoid him, he asked gently,

"Baby, did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"

His voice was tinged with concern, his eyes filled with hurt at my distance.

I quickly responded, trying to change the subject. "No, you did nothing wrong. Uhm, shouldn't you leave for the race?"

Oscar looked at me, his gaze lingering on me before reluctantly letting it go.

"Wait, weren't you coming with me?" he questioned, his tone hinting at his confusion.

I responded with a slightly busted attitude, "Oh, uhm, I'm not done getting ready yet. I'll come later, though."

It was a lie, and Oscar seemed to sense that something was off.

Despite the passing time, he decided to focus on his own preparations while stealing a moment to kiss my forehead before leaving.

I took a moment to muster my courage, realizing that Oscar didn't deserve being pushed away because of my insecurities.

With a deep breath, I prepared myself to face the day and attend the race, pushing through the weight of my doubts.

As the hours flew by, I found myself standing in the garage, watching from afar, torn between my worries and the desire to support him.

After awhile I decided to go to the restroom since I still had some time before the race started.

As I was walking, I heard voices behind me, and my name being mentioned caught my attention.

I stopped to listen—not that I meant to eavesdrop, but hearing my name made it impossible not to.

From what I could tell, these girls were likely McLaren fangirls. Well duh after all, they were dressed in papaya colors.

Girl 1: "It's crazy that Oscar is still dating y/n. She doesn't even fit his ideal type."

Girl 2: "I know, right? Like, she's not even close."

Girl 3: "Yeah, he must be leading her on or something."

Girl 4: "Or maybe she's in it for the fame and money."

Girl 5: "Oh, definitely. There's no other reason she would be with him."

The girls' laughter echoed in my ears, each comment like a punch to my heart.

Girl 2: "Seriously, you'd think he could do better than her."

Girl 1: "Yeah, she's not even that attractive compared to the other girls he's dated before."

Girl 3: "I bet he'll realize soon that he could get someone way better."

Girl 4: "Well, if the fame and money aren't enough, then he's definitely settling."

I couldn't bear to listen any longer, my tears streaming as I fled to the restroom, seeking solace to hide my distress.

Time slipped away as I stayed there, isolated, wrestling with my tormenting thoughts and self-doubts.

Meanwhile, the McLaren garage buzzed with pre-race energy, but Oscar couldn’t focus. His eyes darted around the paddock, scanning for any sign of you.

Anxiety churned in his gut as he spotted his teammate leaning casually against a workbench.

“Lando!” Oscar called, walking over briskly.

Lando glanced up, eyebrows raised. “What’s up, mate?”

Oscar hesitated before blurting out, “Have you seen Y/N anywhere?”

Lando frowned, clearly puzzled. “No, mate, haven’t seen her. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her around for the last few races. Is everything okay?”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, mate. She’s been so distant lately, and I have no idea what I’ve done to upset her.”

Lando’s expression softened, a mix of pity and thoughtfulness. “Could it maybe have to do with that video that went viral again?”

Oscar blinked, confused. “What video? That old F2 interview of mine? That was years ago! I was just joking in most of it anyway.”

Lando shrugged, giving him a pointed look. “Mate, you might want to check the comments under her recent Instagram post. I think that’s your answer.”

With a sympathetic pat on the back, Lando turned and walked off, leaving Oscar alone with his thoughts.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers quickly navigating to your profile. The comments under your latest post hit him like a brick.

“Oh no,” Oscar muttered, his stomach sinking. “No wonder she’s been distant…”

He mentally kicked himself, remembering that dumb interview where he’d been too cocky for his own good.

“I didn’t even mean half the stuff I said,” he whispered to himself, cringing at the memory.

Before he could search for you and explain himself, a crew member called his name, dragging him toward the car for pre-race preparations.

“Great timing,” he muttered under his breath. But he made a promise to himself: as soon as this race was over, he’d find you and make things right.

Meanwhile, back to you, the restroom break had taken longer than expected. The initial plan to kill time before the race started had backfired; now, a dull ache was forming in my head, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping up on me.

I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, but the discomfort wasn’t going away.

Deciding it was best not to push myself, I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message to Oscar:

Not feeling great. Heading back home. Don’t worry about me.

I hesitated before hitting send. He’d probably be confused or even concerned, but the last thing I wanted was to worry him.

With a sigh, I hit send and slipped my phone back into my bag.

As I stepped out of the restroom and headed for the exit, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

On the way, I also let Oscar's manager know I left, just in case he didn't check his phone.

I knew Oscar would notice my absence, but today, it felt easier to retreat than to stay and face everything swirling in my mind.

Little did I know, Oscar was already worrying.

The race had ended, with Oscar clinching a solid P4, just behind Lando. Though pleased with his result, his mind was elsewhere.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to feel your arms around him, and hear you tell him how proud you were—just like old times.

But as he scanned the crowd, his hope began to waver. You weren’t there.

His manager noticed Oscar’s distracted gaze and approached him. “Looking for Y/N?” the manager asked gently.

“She left you a message. Said she wasn’t feeling well and headed home.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened, his heart sinking. You hadn’t told him the truth.

A mix of frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface. Without a word, he decided to skip the team celebrations and headed straight home.

When Oscar arrived, he didn’t waste a second. Dropping his bag by the door, he called out loudly—his voice sharper than usual.

“Y/N!”

You were downstairs in no time, a soft smile on your face.

“Oh, hey, Osc! You’re back early. How was the race?” I asked sweetly, trying to act normal.

But Oscar wasn’t having it. His expression was hard as he stared at you.

“You would’ve known if you didn’t leave,” he said, his voice laced with frustration.

Guilt washed over me, and you stammered, “I’m sorry, Osc. I wasn’t feeling well—”

“Cut the crap, Y/N!” he interrupted, startling you. His voice was raised, something he rarely did.

“When are you going to finally admit the real reason you’ve been like this? Tell me! I’m sick of it!”

I flinched but couldn’t blame him. He deserved an explanation. At the same time, I’d had enough, too. My emotions spilled out, my voice breaking.

“How would you feel if people kept telling you that your partner is too good for you? That you’re not good enough, that you’re too ugly, not their type, only with them for the money?!”

Tears streamed down my face as you continued.

“And yes, it’s about that stupid interview of yours! I can’t help it, okay? Call me dumb, call me a crybaby, but this is too much!”

By now, I was full-on sobbing, unable to meet his gaze. But before I could crumble further, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close.

His voice was soft now, gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could’ve helped. We’re a team, remember?”

I sniffled, my voice trembling as I replied, “Those were your words, Oscar. I can’t take them back or change them.”

He sighed, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Babe, that interview was years ago. I was joking around the entire time. If you’d watched the whole thing, you’d see that.”

I shook my head, unsure, but he leaned back just enough to look at me.

“Since when is my favorite color pink?” he teased, a small laugh escaping him.

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, too.

“That's better,” he said, smiling.

“Listen to me. Everything I said in that interview wasn’t true. I was 18, tired, and didn’t even want to be there. I was just trolling to get it over with.”

I laughed again at his confession, finally meeting his eyes.

“There’s that pretty smile,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but next time, talk to me, okay?”

I nodded, wiping your tears. “I will. I’m sorry for doubting you… for pushing you away.”

He smiled warmly, leaning in to peck your lips a few times.

“It’s okay, love. I get why you did it. But don’t you ever doubt yourself again, yeah? You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me. How did I get so lucky, huh?”

He cupped your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before pulling you into a long, passionate kiss. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t you ever doubt yourself,” he whispered. “You’re my ideal type. Always.”

I laughed softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

Suddenly, Oscar scooped me up into his arms, bridal style, making me squeal.

“Osc! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

He grinned, shaking his head as he headed toward the bedroom.

“Nope. Let me show my gorgeous girl how much I love her.”

And let’s just say, the night ended perfectly. From that moment on, I never doubted his love for me ever again.

oscarpiastri posted on Instagram!

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oscarpiastri An amazing race to finish off the week. A big thank you to the entire team and the fans. Also a big thank you to my beautiful girlfriend for being the best support.

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yourusername So so proud of you Osc!!! Love you! 🩷

oscarpiastri Love you too pretty!

landonorris Well done mate 🙌 extra support is always great!

oscarpiastri Thanks man! You're right especially if she's just my type 😉

yourusername 🤭 ❤️ by author

lalalandnorris4you Oscar really gagged all of you haters purr 💅

frvrformulaonestan1 This is the cutest thing ever brb I'm going to cry 🥹

notyourfan481 Bro Oscar you don't have to lie we all know this ain't you

osclvy/n Girl stfu he isn't going to notice you ffs 🙄

lovelypeachlan4 You thought you did sum? Get out 👉🚪

yourusername posted on Instagram!

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yourusername A little recap of last week 🤍

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yourbffuser Looking like a snack 😋😍🥵

yourusername Love ya 💋🫦

oscarpiastri Gorgeous 😍

yourusername Love youu Osc 🥰

alexandrasaintmleux So so so pretty 😘

yourusername Says you beautiful 😉💕

lv4motorsports81 She's so pretty omd

manyyynorriz She's gorgeous, don't know what people were on about 🤨

banananorrispiastry81 🤢

nothingthelessnorris4 And you did this for what ☠️

piastrybakerlvr Move on he isn't going to notice you 🥱

lvlynorrisss4 Yet your comment didn't make any change to this world... Grow up 🤦‍♀️

The end

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #oscar x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri au #oscar piastri angst

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rmview · 17 hours ago

Text

they try to win you back, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys try to win you back after a fight/break up! ( can be read as part 2 of this )

contents — mentions of past fights, reconciliation and fluff.

bang ღ chan

bang chan wasn’t the type to let things slide, especially when it came to you. after the breakup — a fallout caused by his relentless work schedule and lack of communication — he knew he’d messed up. but when you finally agreed to give him another chance, he vowed not to let you go.

bangchan started small. one morning, you woke up to a playlist he had sent you titled “for my love,” filled with songs that reminded him of you. the accompanying message read: “just a little something to start your day. i’m still learning how to do better, but i’ll make it worth it. – chan.”

later that week, he surprised you with a handwritten letter. the envelope smelled faintly of his cologne, and inside, his neatly written words laid bare his heart. he wrote about how he’d never stopped loving you, how the breakup had forced him to reflect on his mistakes, and how he wanted to be the kind of partner you deserved.

“have you been sleeping better?” he asked one evening when he showed up at your door with a basket of your favorite snacks and a plush blanket. “i remember you saying the nights feel colder now. thought this might help.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness, despite trying to keep your guard up. “thanks, chan,” you said, accepting the basket.

his smile was soft but tinged with nervousness. “i know actions speak louder than words,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “so i’m going to keep showing you how much you mean to me.”

one night, he invited you over to the studio where he spent countless hours. the space felt intimate, with dim lighting and a cozy setup. “i wrote something for you,” he said shyly, gesturing to the microphone.

as the music filled the room, his voice poured out lyrics that spoke of regret, hope, and an unwavering love. when the song ended, he turned to you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. “that’s how i feel,” he said softly. “i hope i can keep showing you, every day, just how much you mean to me.”

felix ღ

felix had always been the sunshine in your life, but after the breakup, you noticed his light dimmed. when you finally agreed to give him another chance, felix made sure he poured his heart into showing how much you meant to him, determined not to make the same mistakes again.

the first sign of his efforts came in the form of baked goods. one evening, after a long day, you came home to a neatly wrapped box on your doorstep. inside were cookies shaped like little hearts, each one perfectly frosted. a note attached to the box read: “i know i hurt you, but i’m not giving up on us. let me make things right. – felix.”

the following weekend, he invited you over to his place. the moment you walked in, you were greeted by the warm aroma of vanilla and butter. felix stood in the kitchen, wearing an apron dusted with flour, a sheepish grin on his face. “i thought we could bake together,” he said, holding up a whisk.

you couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. “you’re really trying, huh?”

“i have to,” he admitted, his voice soft but earnest. “you’re everything to me, and i won’t lose you again.”

as the two of you mixed dough and laughed over his attempts to juggle eggs (which ended in a sticky mess), felix stole small glances at you, his heart swelling at every smile he managed to coax from you and how easily your guard managed to lower.

later that evening, as you sat on the couch sharing a plate of freshly baked cookies, he turned to you, his deep voice filled with sincerity. “i’m not perfect, but i promise to keep trying for you — for us. you’ve always believed in me, and now it’s my turn to prove that i’m worth it.”

the most touching gesture came one rainy afternoon. felix surprised you with a scrapbook he had been working on — a collection of photos, handwritten notes, and little mementos from your time together. on the last page, he had written: “our story isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. i want to keep writing it with you.”

tears welled in your eyes as he took your hand. “i know i hurt you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “but i love you more than anything, and i’ll spend every day proving that to you.”

lee ღ know

lee know had never been one for grand gestures, but when it came to making things right with you, he found himself stepping outside his comfort zone. the breakup had been his fault — his blunt words and tendency to shut down during arguments had driven a wedge between you. when you agreed to give him another chance, he knew he had to approach things differently.

the first sign of his efforts came subtly. one morning, you found a neatly packed lunch waiting for you at work, complete with a note that read: “eat well. i know i didn’t always take care of you like i should have, but i want to do better. – minho.”

later that week, he surprised you by showing up at your favorite café. “thought you might like some company,” he said casually, sliding into the seat across from you. but the way his eyes lingered on you betrayed the nonchalance in his tone.

over time, his gestures grew more personal. one evening, he invited you over to his apartment. when you arrived, you found the place meticulously decorated with fairy lights and a small spread of your favorite dishes on the table.

“you cooked?” you asked, surprised by the spread as the warm scent made you smile.

“i wanted to do something for you,” he said simply, pulling out a chair for you. “i know i’m not the best at saying how i feel, but i hope this shows you.”

as the two of you ate, minho watched you closely, his usual sharp demeanor softened considerably. “i’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said suddenly. “about how i didn’t handle things the way i should have. i’m not good with words, but i need you to know that i’m trying.”

the dinner together was amazing and true to his words, he brought you to the dance studio where he spent most of his time one day, a glint in his eyes. “i have something to show you,” he said, his tone almost shy.

he played a track and began to dance, every movement purposeful and filled with emotion. it was a side of him you hadn’t seen before; raw, vulnerable, and completely open. when the music stopped, he stood before you, slightly out of breath.

“this is how i express myself best,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “i don’t want to lose you again. i’ll keep trying to be better, for both of us.”

hyun ღ jin

hyunjin had always been passionate, wearing his heart on his sleeve. but that same intensity had been the cause of your breakup. so when you decided to give him another chance, hyunjin knew he couldn’t rely on words alone to win you back.

the first time he saw you again after the breakup, he showed up with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. but these weren’t just ordinary flowers — they were intricately painted on a canvas he had spent hours creating. “i wanted to give you something that lasts,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “like how i hope we will.”

hyunjin’s gestures were deeply personal. one evening, he invited you to his art studio, where a single easel stood in the center of the room. “i’ve been working on something,” he said, motioning for you to sit.

you watched as he unveiled a portrait of you, painted in soft, dreamy hues that captured the way he saw you — radiant and full of warmth. “this is how i see you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “even when we were apart, you were always in my heart.”

you were touched to nearly the point of tears, as his sincerety was making it harder to keep your guard up. another night, hyunjin surprised you with a private dance performance. he led you into a dimly lit studio, where soft music played in the background. “this is for you,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours before the music swelled.

every movement of his dance told a story — of regret, love, and a desperate desire to make things right. as he finished, his chest heaved from exertion, but his gaze never wavered. “i’ve made mistakes,” he admitted, stepping closer to you. “but i’m learning. you’re the one i want to share my life with, and i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.”

hyunjin also made an effort to handle conflict differently. one evening, when a small disagreement arose, he surprised you by calmly sitting down and saying, “let’s talk about this. i don’t want us to go back to how things were before.”

his growth, combined with his heartfelt gestures, slowly chipped away at the walls you had built around your heart. hyunjin knew it would take time, but he was willing to be patient. after all, loving you was worth every effort.

i.n ღ

i.n had always been mature for his age, but the breakup — caused by his occasional aloofness and failure to recognize how much you needed reassurance — had shaken him to his core. though when you agreed to give him another chance, he knew he couldn’t take it for granted.

the first sign of his determination came when he surprised you with something simple yet meaningful: a framed photo of the two of you from happier times. he handed it to you one evening, his expression both nervous and hopeful. “i wanted to remind you of what we’re working towards,” he said softly. “this is the version of us i want to get back to.”

from that moment on, i.n’s actions spoke louder than any apology he could offer. he started paying closer attention to the little things that made you happy. one afternoon, he showed up at your place with a playlist he had carefully curated. “these songs remind me of you,” he explained, plugging in his headphones to share the music with you. as you listened together, he held your hand, a quiet promise in the way his thumb traced gentle circles on your skin.

his gestures extended to your everyday life. knowing how stressful your days could be, i.n would occasionally leave you handwritten notes in your bag or on your desk, each one filled with words of encouragement and love. “you’re doing amazing, and i’m so lucky to have you in my life,” one note read.

but i.n’s biggest gesture came one weekend when he surprised you with a small picnic at a secluded park. the spread included all your favorite foods, and he had even learned how to make one dish from scratch. “it’s not perfect,” he admitted with a shy laugh as you tasted it, “but i figured you deserved the effort.”

as the evening wore on and the sun set, he turned to you, his eyes earnest. “i know i’ve hurt you,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “but i’m learning to be better, and i’ll never stop trying. you mean too much to me.”

his sincerity and consistent efforts slowly began to rebuild the trust between you, showing you that he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right.

han ღ

han wasn’t one to do things halfway, whether it was his music, his humor, or his love for you. the breakup had left him heartbroken, but when you gave him a second chance, he threw himself into proving that he was worthy of your trust.

his first move was to apologize in a way that only han could: through music. late one evening, he sent you a voice note. the melody was soft and heartfelt, and the lyrics spoke of regret, love, and the hope of a new beginning. at the end of the recording, his voice came through, unpolished and raw. “i wrote this for you. it’s not perfect, but neither am i. i just… i want to make you smile again.”

from then on, han made a point to be present in your life in ways that mattered. he started showing up to your favorite café during your lunch breaks, bringing little treats he knew you loved. “thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he’d say with a cheeky grin, placing a pastry and your favorite drink in front of you.

one evening, he invited you to the studio where he worked. “i want to show you something,” he said, leading you inside. on the wall was a collection of sticky notes, each one with a memory, a thought, or something he loved about you. “this is my reminder,” he explained, “of why i can’t mess this up again.”

despite his playful nature, han wasn’t afraid to get serious when it came to making amends. during a quiet moment one night, he looked at you, his usual mischievous expression replaced with a rare vulnerability. “i know i joke around a lot,” he said, his voice soft, “but you’re the most important person in my life. i’ll spend every day proving that i’m worth this second chance.”

han also worked hard to communicate better, often catching himself when he started to get defensive or overwhelmed. “wait,” he’d say during a disagreement, taking a deep breath. “let’s figure this out. i don’t want us to fall apart again.”

with every sweet gesture and heartfelt conversation, han slowly reminded you of why you had fallen for him in the first place, proving that even the most impulsive hearts could learn to love with patience and care.

seung ღ min

seungmin wasn’t the type to let emotions cloud his logic, but the breakup had been a wake-up call. when you decided to give him another chance, seungmin didn’t take it lightly. he knew he couldn’t rely on his usual reserved nature; he had to show you how much you meant to him.

the first sign of his effort came subtly. he started paying attention to the smallest details about you, things you thought he might not have noticed. one morning, you found your favorite drink waiting for you on your desk, a neat note attached: “thought you could use a boost. have a good day. – seungmin.” it was practical, understated, and so very him.

a few days later, he surprised you with something more personal. “i know i’m not great at saying how i feel,” he said one evening, handing you a leather-bound journal. inside were pages filled with his handwriting — entries where he reflected on your time together, what he had learned, and the moments he cherished most. “this is me trying to do better,” he admitted, his voice steady but his eyes vulnerable. “you deserve to know how much i care.”

seungmin also worked on being more emotionally available. during quiet evenings together, he would ask how you were feeling, genuinely listening and responding with thoughtful insight. “i want to understand you better,” he’d say, his tone sincere. “i don’t want to make the same mistakes.”

his biggest gesture came one chilly evening when he invited you to a quiet spot by the river, where a small portable speaker played a playlist he’d curated just for you.

as the two of you sat wrapped in a blanket he’d brought, seungmin turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically tender. “i know i’ve been distant before,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “but i’m here now, and i’ll keep being here — for as long as you’ll let me.”

chang ღ bin

changbin had always been passionate — sometimes to a fault. the breakup, caused by his tendency to act out of frustration and say things he didn’t mean, had left him devastated. when you gave him another chance, he threw himself into showing you how much you meant to him, channeling his fiery energy into thoughtful gestures.

the first thing he did was apologize, not just with words but with actions. one day, you came home to find a handwritten letter on your table, accompanied by a small box of your favorite snacks. the letter read: “i know i’ve hurt you, and i’ll never stop trying to make it up to you. thank you for giving me another chance. – binnie.”

changbin also started showing up for you in ways he hadn’t before. if you mentioned being stressed at work, he’d surprise you with a quick visit, bringing something small to cheer you up. “i figured you might need a break,” he’d say, his boyish grin disarming any tension.

one evening, he invited you to his studio. “i’ve been working on something,” he said, gesturing toward the equipment. as the music played, you realized he had written a song for you — its lyrics raw and honest, capturing both his regret and his deep love for you. “this is how i feel,” he said when the track ended, his voice soft yet firm. “i want to be better, for you and for us.”

despite his big gestures, changbin also made an effort to be more patient and open. during one of your conversations, when emotions ran high, he surprised you by taking a deep breath and saying, “i don’t want to argue. let’s talk about this. i want to understand how you feel.”

his most heartfelt effort came during a casual evening together. as you walked through a park, he suddenly stopped, pulling you close. “i know i’ve been intense at times,” he said, his tone unusually gentle. “but that’s because i love you so much. i’ll keep working on myself because i don’t ever want to lose you again.”

with every gesture, big or small, changbin showed you that his love for you was as unwavering as his determination to make things right.

notes: i’ve never really been in a relationship so i mentioned a lot of things i’d personally want a guy to do for me (T^T) i hope yall enjoyed either way!

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oceantornadoo · 13 hours ago

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ch4 the wrong john | masterlist | next

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

—

The universe hates you, obviously.

Why else would it send you this charming and attractive man in the form of your brother’s boss? Not to mention your hookup with him was so meaningless he didn’t even deign to write you a note. Even a “had a nice time :)” would have been more acceptable than an empty bed and an aching throb in both your cunt and your chest. Since clearly it was just another hookup to him, you decide to treat John with the same dignity he treated you with.

“Nice to meet you both!” You nod at the clock above John’s head, refusing to meet his eyes, then turn to Gaz and give him a warm smile. “And I’m sorry you have to spend so much time with my brother. At least you get paid, it’s a better lot than mine.” The crew laughs, breaking the inevitable awkward tension of bringing a civilian family member to their place of work. Johnny shoves your shoulder and you gladly take the opportunity to turn your back on John.

“Well, Cap’s got a meeting soon, but we can show ye ‘round while we wait.” You don’t bother saying goodbye to John, something that Gaz and Ghost note with a look between them. Johnny’s too focused on you to notice, shouting his goodbyes over his shoulder to Price before tucking you against him once again. Your traitorous heart pounds out of your chest as you take stock of the situation. Not only is John your brother’s captain, he’s practically a father figure. Johnny’s told you how the captain took a chance on him, saved his life countless times, and you’re putting these facts together like pieces of the puzzle that is John Price. A military captain who treats his men like sons while treating a stranger like his wife, just to leave the next day. He’s clearly unstable, a person you should stay away from, because you have the slightest inkling he could ruin your life. He might already have.

Ghost leaves to finish training, Johnny on his heels to “wish him goodbye,” as if they won’t see each other in an hour. It’s disgusting how in love your brother is, how besotted Ghost is, and you hate yourself for wanting what they have so badly. It’s clear they’re meant for each other, tethered together by blood and sacrifice and the life that can grow after death. Want bubbles inside you like a pot about to explode, and you would do well to keep the lid on.

“So,” Gaz shakes you out of your reverie, cunning eyes tracking your gaze to Ghost and Johnny. “Approve of the Lieutenant for your brother? ‘m dyin’ to know.” You nod slightly, cheeks flushing in the face of Gaz’s full attention. Closer up, he’s the type of handsome you would never pursue, too pretty for his own good. In his voice and behind his eyes, though, there’s something lurking underneath. You can tell he wields his handsomeness as a weapon and you can’t even fault him for it.

“I think it’s more if Ghost approves of me, to be honest. They already seem like they’d hang the moon for each other.” Gaz nods thoughtfully, leading you outside to a path that outlines the base, giving you a glimpse of soldiers training outside. “An’ why’s that? Soap talks about you all the time like you’re a sort of angel. Not sayin’ you aren’t, of course.” He sends you a wink and you giggle at both that and the nickname Soap. Johnny told you about it, of course, but it’s a bit silly to hear it next to the name Ghost or even Gaz. He’s never told you what Soap meant, and you never asked in case it was something you didn’t want to hear.

“I think Johnny loves me, it’s just, I remind him of the parts of our family that don’t. And with Ghost, and all of you, he’s got a real family that doesn’t judge him. It’s like introducing two friend groups when you’re not sure if they’ll like each other. We represent different parts of him, but I’m old and Ghost is new, so the lines seem blurry to me.” Gaz lets you talk more, his demeanor so welcoming with the internal challenges you’re facing. He even tells you to call him Kyle, warm and soft. The two of you walk around base, minutes turning into an hour. Finally, a soldier runs up to the two of you, telling you you’re needed in Price’s office. You bite your lip nervously, not seeing how Kyle tracks your response. He almost freezes, years of training preventing him from doing so, but he’s still thrown by how nervous you seem to go back.

“Well, I’m a little sorry for talking your ear off. But I see why Johnny likes you, Kyle. You’re a good friend.” You smile at him, almost faltering when you see his stony expression. It changes in a split second, like a cloud moving from the sun, and he grins and tucks you under his shoulder, just like Johnny. “It’s no problem, angel. It’s one of my specialities. Let’s get you to lunch, ‘m starvin’.”

Johnny greets you like a long lost twin when you get back, asking for details about who you saw and where you went. He’s like that all the way to lunch, insisting on driving just the two of you to “the only decent pub in this town, really, hen.” It’s nice to spend time with him and you squeeze his forearm to say so, basking in the light of his smile. You almost forget about the John situation until you see him get out of the car the other men took, his fatigues fitting him criminally well. In fact, he’s even better looking in the daylight, blue eyes catching the sun while he stretches, muscles rippling under his clothes. You stare so long that Johnny yells at you to get moving, but he’s too focused on Ghost to turn back to see who you’re looking at.

You find Kyle quickly, tucking your arm into the crook of his elbow and letting him guide you into the pub, sparing a singular backwards glance to John. He’s staring at you, again, but he’s too far back for you to tell anything of the subtext behind his eyes. Is he mad you’re Johnny’s sister? He has no right, obviously. Maybe he thinks you stalked him or something and this is all some elaborate scheme. Deciding you don’t care, you focus on lunch and the growling in your stomach from all the calories you burnt with John last night. He’s really the cause of all your current plights.

The pub only has booths. Johnny insists on you being in the middle, guest of honor and all that, so you’re stuck in the middle with Johnny on your left and Kyle on your right. Ghost is next to Johnny, of course, leaving John next to Kyle, a perfect angle for him to stare at you while you answer Johnny’s interrogation. Johnny asks you questions like you haven’t talked every week since you last saw each other. Like only a brother could be, he’s unhinged.

“So yer still single, m'eudail?”

“An’ yer livin’ alone? Steaming Jesus, hen.”

“Not even a cat? Bloody hell.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see John’s shoulders bunching closer with every invasive question your brother asks. He’s being an ass, they both are, and you need a break. “Before the food comes, I’m going to use the toilet. Scooch, Johnny.” As you leave, you hear Ghost muttering to Johnny, telling him to calm down. At least someone’s on your side.

You do your business, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before going back out and facing the cavalry. As you open the door, you see the universe is not on your side.

“We need to talk.” He’s standing there, posture military straight. You hate him.

“John…” You try to push the bathroom door open to make your escape. He prides himself on your mission being unsuccessful, an arm preventing you from leaving. He doesn’t like to use his strength to intimidate women, but in this case, you’re too slippery for him to let you go politely.

“Sweetheart…”

“Oh, don’t sweetheart me, John. Or should I say, Captain?”

He yanks the door handle from your grip, spinning and locking you both inside in one move. It’s a one room toilet and there’s nowhere to go with John taking up space like it’s his right. “We need to talk.” He says it in what you imagine is his Captain Voice, firm and unmoving. Luckily for you, you’re not on his payroll. “Actually, we don’t. We had a good time, the night ended and you left, and now we happen to have a mutual connection. It’s whatever.” You try to shrug nonchalantly, fumbling for the door, but John notes how you stumbled over the words “you left.” His hands find your waist, pinning you to the door with a gentleness remnant of last night.

“You didn’t call. Or text. ‘m confused why y’r upset, pet, when the ball’s in y’r court.” His hands on your waist are breaking down your mental walls and you hate how easily you let down your guard. His actions don’t match his words, though, and that’s something you can’t deny. “How would I have called? I don’t have your number.” His brows knit together in confusion, thumbs rubbing circles over your shirt. “I left a note.” Oh. Oh.

“There was no note.”

“Left it on the pillow, sweetheart.”

“There was nothing on the pillow!”

“Must’ve moved while you slept. Should’ve known by how much ya kicked me last night.”

“I don’t kick! God, you’re annoying and-“

He cuts you off with a kiss, pressing you further into the door. John slots a muscled thigh between your legs, smiling against your skin when you let out a soft moan. “‘m sorry ‘m a right idiot, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you.” You shake your head, pushing him away but keeping your hands on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform. “What would you have done if I never called? And if- if I didn’t show up on base?” He smiles at you indulgently, like you’re a little girl instead of a woman. He knows he’s won, can tell by how firm your grip is on his chest. “Would’ve gone back t’ the bar tonight. An’ if you weren’t there, would’ve gone to y’r hotel room.” You frown at him. “How would you have gotten up the elevator? You need a key card.” He pecks your forehead like he’s known you a year, rather than a day. “I have my ways, sweetheart. I am a captain, as you know.”

That kills the mood.

You push him away, finally letting go, before stepping in front of the mirror to readjust your clothes and hair. He stands behind you and it’s intoxicating to imagine you two like this, fixing your clothes after a hookup or a domestic night in. Something about John Price feels permanent, likes he’s meant to be in your life for more than one night. But then, the image of your brother pops into your brain. Your memory of how much he talks about John, talks about the group in general. How they’re like family, like brothers, how Price treats him like a son. You can’t ruin this for him.

“We can’t do this, John. If it goes wrong, it’ll break Johnny’s heart. I can’t do that to him.” Hands wrap around your waist, slotting you against him. You fit perfectly and it’s heart wrenching. “An’ what about my heart? An’ yours?” You shake your head, pushing off of him and unlocking the door. “It’s early enough that we can just- just stop. Johnny’s more important. I am sorry, truly.” You walk away without a second glance, like John’s not even there.

And just like that, John Price knows he’s met his match. His future wife, if he has anything to say about it. John Price doesn’t lose.

notes: johnny says bloody hell because simon says bloody hell. i don’t make the rules sorry.

also someone complained on my ao3 that this wasn’t slow burn and…i never said it was???? they literally meet as a hookup bffr. anyways hope yall enjoy! angst is coming soon hehe

taglist

@lveegsoi

@galactict3a

@nova-willow-541

@sirbonesly

@starlightkitten19

@prettycatboy

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evieelyzabethh · 2 days ago

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If it’s okay to request, may I request something in modern au (viktor x reader, established relationship) where jayce is hosting a costume party and reader dresses in something that makes her look super pretty (maybe I even suggest, her dressed as cowboy barbie, cause my bi self is obsessed with that look) and viktor gets handy with her. If you’re comfortable, can you make it nsfw or at lesser suggestive?

Definitely projecting as someone whose personal fav holiday is Halloween, but I imagine reader to be super stoked about it. Like the set up gets a big makeover that she forces Vik to help her with, there's a bunch of spiders and skulls and spooky decor all over the place, the ambient music transitions to creepy organs or the instrumental soundtrack of one of those old Hollywood horror movies. You definitely spare no expense when it comes to costumes, sometimes even going as far as to make it yourself.

Jayce isn't the biggest Halloween guy; he just likes the decor and the movies. While you went as cowboy Barbie, he definitely went as a plain cowboy, walking around shirtless with a huge cowboy hat atop his head and a lasso attached to the leather belt he's wearing. The denim jeans he wears are flared, just barely showing the brown boots that he bought to match with the suspenders the rest on his bare chest. The party is rather intimate, nothing more than a bunch of mutual friends, a bunch of pizza, and at least a gallon of Jungle Juice.

Now, you knew that Viktor wasn't going to be Ken. Even though his costume wouldn't be a matching hot pink, he thinks the fringe is silly and totally not his vibe. To be fair, he hasn't done a matching costume with you since you went as a Playboy Bunny, and even then, he only showed up in a suit and tie. He didn't even name the costume; he just went along with what everyone else assumed. That year, he was a man of many costumes: Men in Black, James Bond, Hugh Heffner, a bodyguard. Someone even thought it was a Legally Blonde reference, and he was Emmett. This being said, he has no issues with you going as cowboy barbie or any of the other skimpy costumes you've worn throughout the years, as long as he gets to tag along and see you in it.

He doesn't even have to worry about jealousy, it's incredibly clear who you came with. He doesn't force you to stay by him, but the way your gaze travels to him at parties, the pretty curls you spent hours on bobbing around as you move around to find him in the crowd makes it incredibly obvious who you're tethered to. The pink, starred ascot that had been around your neck had been undone by a bathroom make out session and could now be found around his wrist. When you talk to friends, you make yourself cozy next to him, the drink you've been nursing for the better part of an hour in your hand as you lay your head on his chest, squirming deeper into him as what he whispers in your ear makes you shiver.

And you think you're being slick, but the way his hand plays on your thigh and the look in your eyes getting farther away says everything. So, when you abruptly say your goodbyes, no one is surprised that your car stays parked out front for at least a half hour.

It's really not the most comfortable arrangement, knee deep in the passenger seat or whatever Chapel said. Your head keeps bumping into the steering wheel, even with the seat being pushed as far back as it'll go, but his hand at the back of your head absorbs most of the impact. You hear it in his voice when he hisses extra loud, his eyes closing as he weighs out whether or not it's worth it to pull you off and drive home. He knows if he asks you, you'll just tell him to drive as he sucks you off and he is desperate enough to do just that.

Especially with the way you look right now. He's always been the type to initiate eye contact, and with how good you look right now, your make-up miraculously intact thanks to whatever waterproof mascara you use, spit dripping from your chin to the top of your tits, your cheeks red, eyes a bit gone from the lack of oxygen, he could cum just by looking at you. His little reminders, "Don't forget to breathe, doll. Through your nose, you can do it.", are quite necessary with your refusal to pull off until he spills down your throat, and fuck is he thankful. If you were in a teasing headspace and decided to edge him now, tears already in his eyes, half his energy going to steadying his own breath so he didn't pass out and the other half trying to keep him from bruising the back of your esophagus, he would probably cry.

You'd been going at it for a while already, pay back for all the lingering touches throughout the night and looking too good in that suit. The languid licks trailing from his leaking tip to his balls couldn't even be hurried along by his hips shallowly bucking into your mouth. You were in your own little world, moaning around his cock, hands pressed firmly in between your thighs as you buck into nothing while his honeyed praise goes through one ear and rattles around in your brain and spills out between your legs.

"Just a bit more. Doin' so good. So close.", he groans, so good. And he really doesn't last much longer, spurts of his cum shooting down your throat as he shudders and whimpers through the aftershocks. That post-nut clarity hits like a semi-truck when he looks out the very foggy windows to see Jayce out the window holding the clutch you left behind, looking entirely too shocked to have just walked up to the window. It's the scariest thing he saw all Halloween.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #eviesmadness🪻#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane headcanon #viktor smut #arcane smut #streamerau🎮

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maevesque · 3 days ago

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A/N: I've no excuse, this definitely was inspired while I was finishing up "Love and Pestilence", like the idea already festered in my brain and the book was like "Here you go, the final push you needed." Because I love seeing MC going through it realizing just how much pain she's caused.

It was late at night, around 3:45am to be exact when she woke up in cold sweat, her heartbeat racing as she rested her hand over her chest. She turned as if she would see Sylus, but she wasn't in the N109 Zone. She was in, what should be, the comfort of her home. Yet, it all felt foreign to her. She had been so accustomed to the warmth and comfort in Sylus's home, that she didn't know much of any other physical home besides his.

She sighed quietly, ushering herself out of her bed as her bare feet tracked along the wooden floorboards of her apartment. She reached up on her tiptoes and grabbed a glass from the cabinet and moved over to her kettle. She always preferred tea over coffee, not that she disliked coffee or anything. She just chose tea every time.

Her hands rested on the handle of the kettle, the steam rising and tickling her hands with soft heat as the fire began burning more, the water gradually beginning to boil. She thought back to the dream she had, a frown immediately tugging at the corner of her lips, and her eyebrows furrowed as she recalled the scenes in her head

She remembered how she doomed Sylus's soul, cursing it to never be parted from hers. How his dragon bones held gently in her hand soon fluttered into petals as it drifted off the sky. Her unshed tears finally sliding down her face. She knew Sylus was out and about, the night owl that he is, and had she not have work in a few hours, she'd have stayed up as well.

The apartment was much too empty to her liking. Then, it was as if a claw of time reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back into the present, her body lightly jumping at the sound of the whistling kettle. Her breathing was heavy, her eyes closing as she shut off the stove and poured the boiling hot water into her mug, a droplet of the hot water jumping out of the mug and onto her hand only made her jerk slightly before she placed the tea kettle back onto the stove.

She grabbed the mug, treading through her kitchen and into her living room where she settled on her sofa, her eyes gazing out through the balcony as she looked at the starless sky. She wondered where Sylus was, what he may be doing, and almost had the thought of texting him, but decided against it. Her thoughts were racing, realizing donning upon her like a weighted blanket that was more suffocating than comforting.

"I cursed him." She said to herself, her eyebrows furrowing, "I doomed his soul to be mine and mine alone, to never be separated from me," she mused to herself, her fingers gripped around the mug, despite how hot it was and practically began burning her palms.

It was then she had thought to herself that she had made Sylus a prison to her heart and soul, even though her memories of their once lifetime had been thrown into the abyss, only recently resurfacing by their newfound strength in resonating with one another.

"This isn't fair... Not to him," she spoke softly, yet reluctantly.

Is the love he claims for me to be purer than another other love I have experience truly one of his own, or created by the chains that keep his soul to mine?

She pulled away from her thoughts when she felt her phone vibrating in her robe pocket. She set down her mug on the coffee table and unlocked her phone. It was a text from Sylus. She wouldn't put it past him if he had a feeling she was awake at this hour, despite having work in about three to four hours from now. She lost track of time, not realizing it was around 4:31am. She read the text, unsure if she should answer.

But her heart told her to do so, even if her mind screamed at her not to, to give Sylus this semblance of freedom away from her selfish, rotten soul.

She typed up a message, then deleted it. Repeating the steps until she heard pecking at the window. She lifted her head and saw Mephisto, tilting his head in curiosity then continued to gently rap his beak against the window. It pulled her out of her daze as she stood up, opening the window to let the crow in. Him immediately settling on her shoulder and even nuzzling against her neck.

She smiled, her eyes tender as she gently brushed her finger along his head. She knew then that Sylus would be coming soon, the information from Mephisto and her lack of text responses enough to have him completing his tasks quickly, just so he could visit her.

There was no point in hiding the storm that raged in her mind, crashing against the walls of her own prison, one she had created within herself. Mephisto cawed as if sensing she was delving into the depths of her mind once more and she laughed softly, rubbing the side of her forefinger under Mephisto's beak. While she didn't feel she deserved it, she's thankful that Mephisto helped her in that moment.

Sylus didn't bother to knock this time, immediately appearing behind her as he shoved his hands into his black slacks and leaned over to rest his chin on her shoulder, replacing Mephisto in a blink of an eye as he disappeared in a cloud of crow feathers that dissipated into the air.

"You didn't text back. What's on your mind, kitten?"

She closed her eyes, willing herself not to melt into the warmth that Sylus always provided her with.

"I just... Didn't want to bother you. That's all."

Sylus chuckled, his voice low and soothing, "I'm never bothered by you."

She wanted to believe him so badly, but her dream and the memories that surfaced to chew at her very soul made her question everything she thought she knew and Sylus knew she was spiraling, he just needed to know and understand why without forcing it out of her.

She frowned and turned to look at him, greeted with the tenderness in his ruby eyes, his sharp features soft against the rays of the moon that shined through the window. She loved him so much, from lifetimes after lifetimes. He was the one her soul will always yearn for.

Selfishly so.

She reached up with a gentle hand that rested on his cheek, the pad of her thumb gently brushing slowing the skin as she stepped forward, leaning up on her tiptoes and pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips.

He didn't like that.

His arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her in place and secured in his arms.

"Talks to me, sweetie." A soft plead in his voice as he squeezed her hips, trying to bring her back to the present.

She closed her eyes for a moment, no matter the turmoil she was facing against herself, she could never hold out on Sylus for long.

She breathed, "I had a dream," she said quietly, "about us." She then lifted her gaze to meet with his, guilt washed over her mind like gunk left from a bandaid ripped off too quickly, just by the gentle look he gave to her.

She felt so unworthy of it.

He remained silent, a little nod of his head as if to tell her to continue, and so she did.

"Sylus, you remember, don't you? I cursed your soul. Doomed to bound to me for all eternity, or until time no longer exists..." she stated, her eyes brimming with tears, "this... This isn't fair to you," she said quietly, attempting to pull away but Sylus kept her there in his arms.

His hold tightened as if afraid she would slip out of his hold.

"And what about it? I told you before, kitten. Curse me. Doom my soul to be yours, never sever the thread you have created against fate for me. You may have cursed my soul to never be gone from yours, yes... But," she held her face gently in his hands and for a second, she thought she saw her dragon as if they were back in his cave once more.

"The love I have for you isn't riddled by our written fate, nor is it forced by your curse on my soul. I choose you, my sorceress. My queen."

He leaned in, kissing her forehead.

"No fate or curse can guide my heart to where it needs to be, to where I belong." He spoke in soft reassurances, surrounding her in that warmth that washed away her worries, those thoughts that made her believe she was absolutely wretched, "I belong to you and I belong with you."

Then, a shared kiss, soft and gentle. Their tongues danced for a moment or two, she lost track of time from being held so tenderly in her lover's arms, his hands caressing every part of her body before pulling her closer, a string of saliva connecting their lips as they parted for needed air.

"Set me free, forget me all over again... Have you ever thought that I doomed you and your soul as well? For I will never stop coming back to you."

#sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus x mc #love and deepspace #lnds #l&ds #♡‧₊˚ drabbles | into another world

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hawkinsbnbg · 3 days ago

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all i want for christmas is you

steddie bingo prompts: cuddle, sing, guitar | @steddiebingo

It was finally Christmas and Eddie was gonna meet Wayne's mysterious partner, who had been a famous topic in their conversations lately.

Not that Wayne had mentioned seeing someone, yet. But he knew his uncle well, or he'd like to think so, and Wayne wasn't the type to just talk about some random people during their weekly phone calls.

And since he'd been hearing about Stevie this and Stevie that for months, he'd braced himself for the family dinner™ when he visited Wayne this year.

That was why he didn't expect to see Steve Harrington when opening the door.

It'd been what? Ten years and the other man still looked as beautiful as ever. Even without his signature polo and khakis, Steve still managed to look unfairly cute in his winter outfit, big doe eyes and rosy cheeks, sweet and fluffy like a cute muffin.

Eddie wanted to eat him.

Before he could say anything, however, Wayne appeared from behind and pushed him out of the doorway.

"Come in, son. You're gonna freeze your ass off if you stay out there any longer."

Steve ducked his head to hide that endearing shy smile of his and stepped inside the house as prompted, sighing in appreciation when the warmth embraced him.

Standing awkwardly next to Wayne, Eddie held the cookies Tupperware Steve had brought over, watching him take off his maroon knit scarf, mittens, and earmuffs then change his shoes and hang his jacket.

As Wayne pulled him into a fatherly hug that Eddie had been given hours ago, a lightbulb moment finally happened to Eddie.

"Holy shit, you're the Stevie! What're you doing here?" Eddie didn't mean to sound so blunt, wincing internally at the hurt flashing in those hazel eyes.

Thankfully, before he could ruin everything with his loud mouth, Wayne interrupted gently.

"I invited him here to have dinner with us. You got a problem with that, son?"

"Nope," Eddie wisely shook his head, then gave Steve a (hopefully) charming smile. "Don't mind me, sweetheart. I was just worried that I haven't bought a gift for you since I didn't– You know what? I’m gonna go set up the table. You two continue catching up, okay?”

His retreating tactic only worked for about two minutes before Steve joined him in the kitchen. Without Wayne as their buffer, he didn't know what to say and neither did Steve by the look of it. But the silence was stifling and his self-control had been shot to zero anyway.

“So, you're friends with Wayne, huh?”

“You could say that,” Steve glanced at him briefly before looking away again. “He talks about you a lot, you know. Said he’s really proud of you. For living your dream and making a life out of it.”

Unable to help it, Eddie swayed closer, breathing in the familiar floral and fruity notes from Steve's cologne and body wash, smiling when he caught the sweet scent of baked cookies.

“For the record, he also talks about you a lot, Stevie.”

He felt a little drunk when Steve's ears and cheeks colored in a lovely shade of pink that matched his sweater vest, and realized how much he’d missed this. The easy flirting. The natural way they moved around each other. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, or maybe it was the domestic air of the occasion, but he could see them like this one day—happy, in love, together.

Eddie shook his head. All those years, and here he was, still just as hopeless.

Dinner was a delightful affair. Wayne made it his duty to regale them both with their embarrassing tales, more of Eddie's than Steve's. Turned out, Wayne had helped him get acquainted with the neighborhood when he first came to live here. Once they found out about their mutual love for sports and gardening, they’d become fast friends and the rest was history.

(“Wait. You walked here?? In this weather???”

“There are only a few flurries and I don't even live that far away from here. I’ll be fine.”

“Uh-huh, says the man who has pneumonia and still took a stroll when it's brass monkeys outside.”

“Like you're one to talk. Remember when you sprained his wrist and ankle because you refused to use the front door like normal people?”

“Listen–”

“Boys.”

“Sorry, Uncle Wayne.”)

At some point, Steve revealed that he was teaching at Hawkins Middle, and proceeded to gush about a bunch of kids Eddie had no idea about but still grew fond of anyway if only because they were the reason for the smiles on Steve's face.

After doing the dishes, they joined Wayne in the living room, drinking hot cocoas by the fireplace and bickering over their tastes in movies and music. Eddie got to show off his guitar skills, playing every request from Steve and Wayne.

They all sang along to Queens and ABBA, laughing when he missed some chords. Eventually, Wayne called it a night and retired upstairs, leaving him and Steve on the couch, cuddling and sharing body heat beneath the soft quilt.

Amidst their mindless bantering, he raised a hand to cradle Steve’s face, and asked softly. “May I?”

Like a dream, Steve leaned into his touch with a soft smile.

“Yes, please.”

Oh, sweet Santa. This man was gonna be the death of him.

Once they eventually parted, Eddie suggested that they should kiss under a mistletoe next time, and Steve quickly pointed out they’d just done it considering their quilt was patterned with mistletoes—something they’d failed to notice until they were done kissing. Somehow, that made them break into a fit of giggles, having to cover each other’s mouths to muffle their noises like a couple of giddy children.

“What do you want for Christmas?” Steve asked after a while.

“You,” Eddie pecked his lips tenderly. “It's always been you, baby.”

“You have me,” Steve smiled into the kiss.

And Eddie knew he was gonna do anything to make them work this time.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiebingoroundone #steddie holiday drabbles #sionewrites #merry christmas #tis the season 🎄

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stvrnioloslvt · 1 day ago

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bestfriends? - matt sturniolo [pt.2]

genre: fluff with a tiny bit of angst / t.w.: none / check out all the other ficmas '24 fics in the masterlist / pt.1 here

③

there were a couple events in the past that made you think that matt felt something for you, even just a tiny bit, like that time you were so hungover after their birthday party that he tucked you in in his bed, kissing your forehead goodnight; or like that time he went up to you while you were studying, massaging your tense shoulders and neck; or the countless times he would slap your thigh as a joke while he was driving, giving it a little squeeze after, and the countless times he would feed you his food, or hand you his water bottle to drink out of.

a lot of times you brushed them off as "friendly interactions," like the type of interactions that people who kiss their bestfriend would probably have. then they grew even more intimate, like sharing cutlery, so you assumed that he saw you like a sister. and then they came at a point where it was undeniable, but you were both so scared and in denial. yet you would always find a way to snuck into his arms, fitting snugly in his embrace, and he would always find an excuse to call you pet names such as "sweetheart" and "darling".

but he was your bestfriend, and sometimes bestfriends act like this too, right?

and that's how you found yourself sprawled on your bed, screaming frustrated in your pillow, hoping that no neighbour would knock on your door to check on you or even worse — call the police. yeah, that would be pretty embarrassing. "cause what the actual fuck would i even tell them, 'oh hey officer, sorry for traumatising my neighbours i was just crashing out cause i like my bestfriend, hope you have a nice day!' like... wait, am i fucking talking to myself out loud? nah i'm going insane, there's no other explanation."

you stopped yourself in your tracks, not having even noticed that in the middle of your monologue you had gotten up from your bed and started to walk around on circles like a madman, and watched as the screen of your phone lit up with a new notification from matt.

you felt your stomach twist and turn with guilt as you watched the screen go back to black, knowing that you had been ignoring him for hours at this point — not because you were mad or anything like that, but because for the last 24 hours every time you opened tiktok your fyp was flooded by edits of you two, of your interactions, of that little smile that you hadn't seen in person the other day making your heart jump in your ribcage, threatening you to rip your flesh open just to escape your body.

finally, you decided that it wasn't fair for the boy to get ignored like that, so with shaky hands you unlocked your phone and opened his chat.

❛❛dumbass💙❞ ⑫

⤷ y/n

⤷ hellooo

⤷ you dead?

⤷ were you abducted by the ufos?

⤷ nah i'm serious where are you

⤷ i'm getting worried

⤷ sweetheart please, i know you have your phone in hand, is everything alright?

⤷ have i done something?

⤷ are you mad? :(

⤷ mr.wrinkleton says that he misses you

⤷ nah i'm done i'm coming over

your brows furrowed at the last message: surely he wasn't serious, right? right?

just then a soft knock echoed in the house, making you yelp startled.

"ain't no way..." you whispered to yourself as you walked towards the front door, opening it just to find a rather confused and worried matt looking at you from head to toe.

you stood frozen at the door, not knowing what to say or what to do, your face probably paler than ever.

"where the fuck —" he started, sass and annoyance dripping from his tone, "were you, miss?"

"i-i was sleeping i'm sor‐"

"cut the bullshit, you've been ignoring me since you went out last night."

he was annoyed. oh he was so fucking annoyed, like you have never seen him before in more than ten years of friendship and that scared you, your legs shaking under you, the hand that opened the door holding a death grip on the knob even if sweaty.

he must have sensed your uneasiness cause he gave you one last good look before taking a deep breath in and slowly exhaling, moving a step closer to you as his hands grabbed gently your shoulders, lightly nudging you inside so that he could close the door behind him.

tears prickled at your eyes at the thought of having made him angry, but you tried hard to fight them back. however, matt didn't miss the way your eyes turned watery, the way you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.

"i- baby, what's wrong?" he cooed, pulling you in a hug, stroking your hair slowly. "what's happening, sweet girl? you can talk to me, you know that." his hand took ahold of you chin, gently moving your head so that he could look at your face. he tenderly caressed your cheek, wiping with his thumb a tear that had managed to escape.

"nothing," you whispered, sniffling faintly and rubbing your eyes in order to conceal those tears. matt's arms unfolded from around you, firmly grabbing your wrists and pulling them away from your eyes.

"don't. i've already seen them, and i want to know what's happening. if that means that you need to cry, then do it, you know that i won't judge."

you choked on a sob, finally breaking down. you buried your face in matt's shirt as you released years of fears, confusion and hurt, knowing that at that point you were at the final stage before ruining everything. matt's arms snuck around you, picking you up and taking you to your room, delicately placing you on your bed. he laid beside you, stroking the strands of hair that fell on your face away from your eyes, wiping away the tear strands that were drying on your cheeks.

"what's wrong pretty girl" he asked softly, his tone laced with care and worry. he placed a loving kiss on your forehead, intertwining your fingers before kissing gently each digit.

you watched silently the scene, your throat burning because of all the things that were bubbling up, ready to come out.

"that's – that's what's wrong," you croaked out, watching as matt gave your pinky finger one last peck. the boy's brows furrowed in confusion, pulling back slightly. "you don't like it?"

"no, no, that's not the point... they are right."

"who's right?"

"everyone!" you snapped, sitting up abruptly on the bed. matt followed your example right after. "your fans, your brothers, your friends, my friends, everyone is right!"

"baby i'm not following you right now-"

"what are we?"

the pressure of the question weighted heavily upon you. everything froze in the moment, even time. there, you finally had done that. you had ruined years and years of friendship in a second. you watched intently as matt's expression fell in one of unease, his mind working overtime to find a good answer.

"i-we- what are you even talking about, y/n?"

"i'm talking about the fact that everyone is seeing something that we are not. i'm talking about the fact that bestfriends do not do what we do. i tried finding answers, but none of them make sense. i'm talking about the fact that even your own family, your own blood and flesh is hinting that there is something more going on. everyone, and i mean everyone that i know does think the same. except us, apparently – except...you."

matt shook his head, a nervous chuckle coming from the back of his throat. "you don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled, over and over again, getting up from the bed and pacing around the room, much like you not even an hour before.

"what do you mean 'i don't know what i'm talking about'? everyone sees it! everyone!" you screamed, jumping up to your feet to face your bestfriend who was actively having a major crash out.

your hands were shaking uncontrollably by your side, much like everything else in you. your whole system was running off adrenaline, pure and unadulterated, preparing you to flight off the scene if things got worse.

"no. what you don't see is that you've been the blind one this whole fucking time. i've been trying. all these years, i've been trying and trying and you never once acknowledged it. not a single time."

"wait what‐"

"i love you! i fucking love you! you're right, we do not act like bestfriends do, cause you're not a bestfriend to me. you're more, you're something so much more precious than a friend and you're so fucking stupid and i'm so mad at you cause all these years i've been trying to make a move and each time you act like your other fucking friends treat you the same way and it's pissed me off more times than i can recount but at the same time i didn't wanna be too straightforward cause i had no idea if you felt the same way or not and i didn't wanna risk it." he chocked out the last sentence, his face red from having spoken so fast and so much with little breath in his lungs. he breathed in, relaxing his shoulders. you observed how his whole body relaxed at the confession, how it looked like a real weight was lifted off his shoulders.

you mouth fell open at the sudden confession, your head spinning from all the emotions that were washing over you. you sat back on the bed, grabbing the sheets to ground yourself. you tried to talk multiple times, failing. instead, you looked like a dying fish.

matt dropped to his knees in front of you, cradling your face in his hands. "please," he whispered, his icy eyes silently begging you, "say something."

"i- i fucking hate you. made me crash out multiple times just to find out that you love me? do you know how many times i've lost sleep over this? just cause the uncertainty wouldn't let me live peacefully? fuck you."

a shy smile tugged at matt's lips, clearly amused by your exasperation.

"so you do love me that much, hm?" he teased you, his lips hovering over yours.

your stomach did a flip at the proximity, anticipation building up in you. you watched mesmerised as his gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips, then again to you eyes. your fingers wrapped tightly around his wrists, nails digging into his skin.

"tell me that you love me."

"fuck y-"

matt's lips crashed on yours, latching onto you with desperation. your hands found their way in his hair, gently pulling strands of hair as he devoured you. the kiss was anything but gentle, years and years of pent up frustration released like that, lips on lips, hands grabbing soft skin, pushing each other as close as possible.

"matt," you gasped, coming up for air, "fuck. i hate you. but i also love you so so much, it's crazy."

matt smiled, his lips puffy. he intertwined your fingers before asking you:

"can i be you boyfriend?"

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

❃ a.n.: to the anon that asked for a pt.2... thank you🙏 i don't think I've ever written as much before and it's all thanks to you. i hope you enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed writing and imagining it.

love, bree ☾

taglist: @shadowthesim @sturnioloszn 🤍

#bree's [sturniolo ficmas]#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #© stvrnioloslvt #matt x reader #sturniolo fluff #matt x y/n #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #mattsturniolo

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jaegeraether · 2 days ago

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Sunsets and footballers (Part 100)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (76) / Alexia Putellas x Character (52) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (29)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Appreciate you all coming along on this 100 chapter journey with me!

A reminder that I've spent a lot of hours creating an online community for anyone to join in and chat about everything from WOSO to everyday life (you can be as anonymous as you want in there!) Don't be shy! Come on in and my DMs are always open.

Follow the link below for the following:

LUMOS BY JAE - Join our little BRAND NEW online community on Discord! Come along to chat and hang out, make friends, and follow along with live games. (Updated link as the old one had an expiry!)

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((5.6k))

YFN POV

“I need it to be perfect.” She said frustrated and a little disheartened. She read through her notes again, skimming along with her finger.

A strong hand took hers and gently lowered it. She willingly fell into the comfort of Lucy’s deep, green eyes. “Little one, it is perfect. You’ve made sure of that.”

“And the book-”

Lucy put her hand on the book to hold it down before she could pick it up and overanalyse every word. She paused to smile at the words on the front before she spoke. “The book too. Both are perfect.”

“I don’t know…”

“Don’t make me call Ridley.”

YFN crossed her arms at the threat. “Go on then.”

Lucy chuckled and shrugged, taking out her phone. She pressed call and put it on loud speaker, staring at YFN as if waiting to stop her. But she was stubborn, after all.

“Bronze. How’s doing?”

“I’m alright, just need your help with something. You busy?”

“I have a Spaniard between my legs, but go ahead.”

The sound of Alexia telling her off in the background was amusing. It sounded as if they were fighting over the phone before their faces popped up. They were clearly in the pool, Alexia lounging between Ridley’s legs and both very topless it seemed.

“We are swimming,” Alexia said in her cute Spanish accent. “Don’t listen to her.”

YFN chuckled. She always loved to see how happy they were. “I’m surprised to see you back already.”

“I missed home.” She said, exchanging a look with Alexia. “And I wasn’t lying but hey, we can Facetime you later on when it gets more sexual if you really want.”

“Riddlesss.” YFN warned to her cheeky grin.

“I’m jooooking. Christ. I’m a one woman type of girl. Voyeur elsewhere Bronze.”

“How the fuck did I get roped into this?!” Lucy defended.

The trio chuckled.

“What can I help you with?”

“YFN won’t stop trying to change the speech. She’s insisting it’s not perfect. I figured you’d have the right thing to say.”

Ridley shrugged nonchalantly. “Perfection is subjective.”

YFN’s mouth dropped open slightly. How had she not thought of that?

“And, before you start big-braining around whose perception of perfection is more important, just remember that you’re emotionally involved and biased having spoken to Mark and written both the book and your speech, so our perception is more pure. We are the audience, after all.” She got closer to the phone. “And baby… believe me when I say it’s perfect.”

She felt her lower lip tremble.

Ridley smiled at the look on her face. “That’s my girl. Now don’t you two have better things to be doing?”

“Speaking of perfect,” Lucy answered. “I do have the perfect day planned. First things first, I need you to put on this blindfold.”

“That is our time to leave.” Alexia said.

“Aw, sure we can't stay and watch?” Ridley asked.

“Goodbye you two.”

“See you tomorrow!” YFN said warmly.

The day was perfect, by any standard. Sex in the morning. A phone call with their friends. A surprise picnic in the park where they kicked around a football and then laid around, napping and reading their books. By the time the sun began to set, they packed their things back into the car and wandered hand in hand down towards the coast.

She’d been so distracted by their conversation and flirting that she hadn’t even realised where they were headed.

“So there’s the event and then the business afterparty, and then we can all catch up for food and drinks after while the footballers have a few days off..” she rambled, not knowing they’d stopped.

She looked up at Lucy who seemed to be smiling down at her, patiently listening and waiting for her to realise where they were. Turning, she saw the beach she’d met Jordan on. The exact same spot. The little alcove between the bushes, staring out over the sun setting.

“Oh, Luce…”

Lucy sat and pulled YFN down in between her legs, cradling her there. Taking in the moment, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath in and out. The sea breeze whipped a few strands of hair out of her messy bun, which Lucy tucked behind her ear. YFN opened her eyes to look at the last rays of daylight as the wind shifted. A storm was coming – she could feel it. She smiled and looked up at the darkening clouds. She loved the feeling of the darkness creeping in, and the storm. She was unsure whether it was the potential violence of it, or the uncertainty, but she still loved it nonetheless. She felt comfortable in that space. Leaning back, she felt the warm comfort of Lucy. How much things had changed..

She looked around the beach and saw nobody. Sparing a thought for Jordan then, and where she was now, made her smile. How good the country had been to her.

They stayed for an extended period, until the sun had fully set and the sky was overcast with dark, angry, yet comforting clouds.

“It’s getting cold, my girl.” Lucy murmured into her ear.

She nodded, having thought the same herself. “It’s time to go.”

They walked up the beach and ascended the stairs as the wind worsened. She turned to look one last time before they headed back towards their car. Halfway back it began raining suddenly. Large, heavy droplets of water soaked them in an instant, though they weren’t too concerned. Laughing, they ran to the closest shelter they could find.

Lucy grabbed her by the waist and backed her into the little alcove, her eyes darkening. Fuck, she looked good when she was wet.

Unable to resist, she reached up to tangle her fingers in her soaked hair and drag her head down to hers. It would never get old, kissing Lucy. She was talented in everything she did, including intimacy. She pressed her body up against her offering her no escape, something YFN obsessed over, and tilted her head to deepen the kiss. They tongues met and she moaned into the taller woman’s mouth. She tightened her grip on her jacket in response to Lucy’s thigh pressing up against her and Lucy moaned in return.

“F…fuck. Little one.” She gasped, pulling away slightly. “Not here, it’s too public.”

“You really want to stop?” She challenged, pressing herself harder against Lucy's thigh, rocking slightly into it as her mouth found the soft flesh under her chin and sucked.

Lucy groaned.

“Fuuuuck. More.”

YFN hummed at the power she had over her, rocking her hips and getting the pleasure she needed from the friction of rubbing against her.

“Arghhh.”

Her hand let go of her jacket and slipped down, taking Lucy’s and guiding it up under her own. Lucy didn’t need any guidance from there, her hand kneading her naked breast, thumb brushing over the peak.

“I need.. I..”

“Mmn, what do you need, Luce?”

“I need you.”

“Then take me home and have me.”

Lucy pulled back and seeing that look in her eyes, she knew just what the rest of their night held. “Mmn.” She looked around to make sure no one was looking, and realised the rain had eased off just slightly. “Let’s get home. I need you.”

Chuckling, the two disentangled and Lucy took a slight step back, waiting for YFN who was looking around with a sentimental expression.

“Luce?”

“Ready?”

“I… do you realise where we are?”

Lucy looked around confused and then it hit her. “Oh… it’s... where we met.” That first evening with Jordan, and the rain. “If only I’d known.”

“Known what, Luce?” She murmured with pure happiness at the significance of where they stood.

Lucy took her hand and raised it, kissing the gold band she was so proud of. “That I’d met my wife.”

JORDAN POV

Jordan was finishing the last of her stretches on the balcony outside their London apartment when Blu came bounding out from the kitchen to involve himself. He’d been running between the two of them, excitedly padding around with his short little legs, and was beginning to get tired.

Jordan felt his tongue lick her cheek and chuckled. She grabbed him and rolled into her back, raising him over her like he was Simba. He loved that. His little legs moved as if swimming and he shook with excitement.

Jordan sat up and cuddled him to her chest, giving him a kiss on the head and looked inside through the glass doors to where Leah was watching them with a smile and a spatula awkwardly in her hand. She wasn’t a cook by any means, though she was trying, and that’s all that mattered to Jordan.

The slightly older woman released him and he bounded back inside to his other mother. She was on cooking duties today, though Jordan was just about to go in and keep her company.

She rolled up her gym mat and stepped inside, putting it back in its place and wandering over to where the delicious smell was coming from.

“Need any help?” She asked.

Leah turned and gave that genuine smile of hers. “Want to keep my company?”

“Of course.”

Without a hesitation, Leah picked the smaller woman up and sat her down on the edge of the countertop. “You can just stay right there, then. I have this under control... I think.”

“It smells amazing.”

Leah stirred the pot and then stood with her back against Jordan’s chest. She didn’t hesitate to wrap her legs and arms around her, kissing her cheek a few times. “Those lessons have been coming in handy, it seems.”

“I still can’t believe you went and did that.”

Leah shrugged and turned to steal one of the cheek kisses with her lips. “It was for us. Of course I did.”

Jordan happily hummed and rested her chin against Leah’s slightly taller shoulder. “What is it?”

“Just this… us. It’s all very domestic.”

“Well I’d like to think so after we had to convert the third bedroom into our closet.”

Jordan chuckled. “Hey, my place isn’t much better. Lucky YFN is living in London full-time with Lucy now – her room has almost more clothes than this one! She barely has room when she stops in for a few nights.”

“God, I just want to live with you already.” Leah grumbled, turning and resting her forehead against her collarbone. Being the only person who Leah let comfort her was not lost on Jordan. “Why can’t we have that?”

“One more season..” Jordan reminded, reassuringly stroking her back. “And then I’ll move to London.”

“Just let me move there, Jord.” Leah almost pleaded. It wasn’t the first time.

“I’d never let you choose me over Arsenal. It’s one year.. what’s one more season?”

Leah groaned, ditching the spatula to wrap her arms around her. “One more season away from my wife.”

A shiver ran down her spine. She loved when she called her ‘wife.’ It was even better than seeing it around social media. Leah and Jordan Williamson-Nobbs. They’d decided to hyphenate rather than choose like their friends.

“I’ve already begun to do some work with YFN.. can you give me one more season?”

Leah pulled back to study her. “Of course. Of course. I don’t mean to pressure you at all, I’m just being needy.”

Jordan draped her hands over her shoulder. “I love it when you’re needy.”

“Yeah?” She whispered, kissing her softly. Just tasting…

“One more season with a Christmas holiday in amongst it... this time with your folks. And as for the neediness, I say we Facetime more and pay your therapist extra.”

“Poor girl.” Leah chuckled.

“Until then, let’s make the most of it...” Jordan mumbled, pulling her close. Leah grabbed at Jordan’s oversized clothes, tugging her to the edge of the bench and sliding her hands under to feel her. Their mouths connected and as they did so, Jordan smelled burning. Looking over Leah’s shoulder, she saw the pot begin to bubble over the edge.

This wasn’t exactly unusual, even when Leah was watching it.

Instead of telling her, she smiled into her mouth and let herself enjoy the taste and feel of her for a few more seconds, knowing their night would probably end like it usually did…. with takeaway.

ALEXIA POV

Alexia dodged left to avoid an incoming Mapi. She used her body to protect the ball from Ona before dodging right and kicking to Caroline on the far side. With the defenders' attention now away from her, she chased forward quickly, pushing her legs to outrun them as she pointed to the spot where she wanted it.

Alexia yelled for the ball. Caroline kicked. The ball came directly to where she’d pointed of course, unimpeded even by Ona sliding through. Alexia’s boot connected exactly where she’d wanted it to, left foot and straight into the top right corner. Cata leapt and missed by barely an inch.

Perfect.

Alexia felt the grin lighting up her face at that glorious sound of the ball hitting the back of the net. The final whistle blew just as it did so and before she could really react properly, her training team swarmed around, all trying to get a piece of her. She usually didn’t let her team celebrate her too hard, but this felt special.

Everything was good.

“Yes, Alexia!” Keira yelled from behind her as she grabbed her.

“LA REINAAAAA!” Patri yelled into her ear far too loudly.

She felt her body being shook from every direction and tried to let herself enjoy it for once.

“That’s it for today!” Pere called to the team. “Well done to Alexia’s team. Go enjoy your event and I’ll see you all on Monday.”

The girls gave their thanks in amongst the celebrations, as the rest of the team came over to congratulate them.

“You want to take my trophies away again, huh?” Aitana joked.

“God, you shot so quick,” Ona smiled, genuinely happy for her friend.

She heard a person whistling in celebration and rolled her eyes. “Okay okay, enough celebrating now.” Alexia said, yet unable to stop her grin.

“Oh, that wasn’t us,” Mapi teased, jerking her head towards the sidelines.

Alexia’s heart jumped as she looked over and spotted Ridley sitting on the fence. She was back, and looking as relaxed as ever with Alexia’s sunglasses on, her legs slightly spread and a proud looking smile on her face as she watched from afar patiently with Chiquito sitting by her side.

Alexia tried to��ignore the teasing from her group. Chiquito looked up at Ridley and then back to Alexia in a sort of question.

“Chiquito!” Alexia called.

He didn’t need to be called twice. The little, fluffy grey cat abandoned his spot to trot over to where Alexia and the girls were standing. She bent down to pick him up, saying her hellos before he was kidnapped by the rest of team. He’d become somewhat of a team mascot, having been around them all so often.

Alexia smiled as she watched him share the love and attention of the girls around, though her attention was now elsewhere as her feet took her towards her Australian.

As she reached her, she parted her legs further with her hands, her palms sliding up the bare skin of Ridley’s thighs and wrapping around her back. She tried to withhold the urge to groan at the comfort of it. Of her.

Her warmth. Her smile. Her touch. Alexia’s home. Ridley held her softly, leaning her head against Alexia’s and presumably watching the girls play with Chiquito over her shoulder.

“Congratulations, my girl.” She murmured in Catalan. “Amazing, as always.”

Alexia hummed against her, happy that she’d seen it. She’d never been the type to be too publicly affectionate, though that had shifted slightly with her relationship with Ridley, especially after their headline-making event with Bashir. Now she wanted to be near her wherever she was. It was such a strange, lovely feeling to have her on the sidelines at games, sitting amongst her family, and at training, talking to her teammates.

“You’re back..” she murmured into her, happy that she didn’t have to wait until that night to see her.

“Mmn. I saw an opportunity to come home earlier and I took it.”

That sent a nice shiver up Alexia’s spine for multiple reasons. Not only the fact that she’d called her ‘home’ but that she’d left her military family who she was so close to, just to come home earlier to her.

Alexia squeezed a little harder before pulling back to see her face. Ridley moved her sunglasses to the top of her head and tucked the sweaty strands of Alexia’s now more brunette looking hair behind her ears. She looked at the scar the bullet had left her with, cutting from just above her eyebrow and disappearing into her hairline. It was now a faded pink colour and looking less aggressive every day. She reached up to stroke it with her thumb, forever grateful that it hadn’t been deeper.

Ridley let her play with it, closing her eyes as Alexia’s thumb moved down and across the one on her cheek. She caught her hand as it reached her jaw and turned her head to kiss the pad of her thumb, and then her thumb, palm, wrist.

“Ready to go home?”

Before she could answer, the girls came over. “What time are you picking us up tomorrow?” Keira asked, handing Chiquito back to Alexia.

“Will we be flying in the Barca plane you bought for us?” Patri interjected.

“First of all, the bus will pick you all up from here at 9am. Secondly… Alexia wouldn’t let me buy anything. Barca has a long-term lease on that plane from my company instead.”

She pouted as if she were unhappy, but she’d still managed to work her way around the problem, of course. Alexia’s stomach fluttered at the cocky look in her eyes.

“But no..” Ridley continued and then chuckled. “No, we’ll be in something much faster and less conspicuous. Management don’t exactly want unnecessary trips while Lucy and Mariona’s faces are still on the plane.”

“You’d think they would have planned ahead.”

“It’s not like I didn’t warn them..” she murmured cheekily. “But never mind that, I’m here to take this one off your hands.”

“At least let her shower first!” Ona exclaimed as a few more of the girls came over.

Alexia stayed quiet as usual and turned to Ridley who looked her up and down with a smirk. “I think I’ll shower her myself at home.”

She rolled her eyes, having expected her to say something similar. “Do you mind waiting? It’s been a really hot day and I want to get these sweaty clothes off me as soon as I can.”

Ridley looked her up and down, seeming to enjoy the enjoying the ‘sweaty clothes’ and gave her a calm but hungry look. Like she hadn’t seen her in a week. Which was about accurate. “I’d wait forever for you.”

Alexia tried to hide her smirk and ignore the teasing noises from her teammates as she took a step back. She was eager to get showered and back home with her. As she’d expected, Ridley moved to follow, sliding off the fence and entering her personal space again. She was slightly taller which meant Alexia had to look up to see that smirk of hers.

A week was the longest they’d been apart since before the island. She could barely keep her hands off her now let along the thought of when they finally got home.

The group made their way into the changing rooms for their showers. Alexia forced herself to go slowly, knowing how frustrating it would be for Ridley, and even though she was annoyingly good at hiding it, Alexia was slowly getting to know her little tells of frustration and impatience. The shifting of her weight onto one foot, the clasped or pocketed hands as if to hold them back from reaching, her head tilt to overcompensate and remind herself to slow down.

Alexia checked herself in the steamed mirror one more time and dropped the towel in the basket as she left the showers. She walked into the changing rooms to see an array of her half-naked teammates all in different stages of dressing and talking. Her eyes found her locker and below it was Ridley sitting calmly, her eyes on Chiquito alone as he sat on the table in the middle of the room with multiple people patting him. The small smile on her face showed how proud she was of him.

Alexia’s first step into the room was met with was Ridley’s eyes flicking to her. Her head tilted as she looked her up and down. Regardless of how turned on she was, she knew the one thing they both wanted more than anything. A hug. She guessed her need to touch and show love was that Spanish side of her, but for Ridley it was different. She wasn’t necessarily a touchy person, unless it was with Alexia. It seemed to be growing on her as a comfort, and so it was never a thing that the Spaniard shoved aside or refused.

Alexia walked right up to the Australian, her knees in between her own and leant over her completely as she put her clothes away. She felt Ridley chuckling into her chest as she did so, gently grasping the backs of her thighs as if to hold her there.

“Ready to go home?” Alexia mimicked from earlier, looking down at her.

Ridley held up Alexia’s car key. “I’ll drive.”

“9am sharp!” Ridley called out to the girls as she drove off.

Alexia reached out to play with her hair as Ridley pet Chiquito who was curled up in her lap.

“He missed you..” she murmured.

“I missed you both.”

“Will you need to go back soon?”

“The team will handle the clean up, Lex. There’s no talk of needing me back anytime soon.”

Alexia hummed happily at that until she spotted a gash with dried blood behind Ridley’s ear. She inspected it with her fingertips. Before she could speak, Ridley did.

“I wasn’t on the front line, Lex, I promise. Wombat got a little too carried away with the working out.” She said calmly, making Alexia chuckle at the image. Since the incident with Bashir, she’d promised to not go front line again unless it was absolutely necessary for her team, or others. “Besides, you already know this. I know you and Duce talk behind my back. What a rat.”

“I like her.”

“She’s just trying to stay in your good books. They’re still getting used to knowing a bit of my personal side.”

“A bit?”

She rolled her eyes. “The biggest part of my personal side.”

“I’m very likeable, you know.”

“Jesus, I’m back for thirty minutes and I’m already copping it.”

“Of course. Someone needs to remind you that not everything is about you.”

Ridley’s mouth dropped open slightly which amused Alexia to no end. She loved every time she surprised her. It was rare.

Before she could get her composure, Alexia reached over and closed her mouth for her.

Ridley’s jaw twitched in amusement and she shook her head. “You’re a pain, you are.”

“You wouldn’t like me so much if I were easy.” She shrugged. “And besides, I’m your pain.”

She hummed in agreement. “That you are. And just to be clear, I’m not surprised you two like each other.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all..?”

“Honestly? The opposite.” She pulled up in front of Ridley’s house which they now shared, and turned to her. Alexia fell into those dark eyes of hers gladly and tightened the hold she had on her thigh. “It doesn’t bother you that I talk to your family often?”

Although she’d been hesitant at first, Ridley had eventually slipped into the fold of the family. It was a bit impossible not to with them, especially after they’d bombarded her at Christmas. “The opposite.”

After they’d made up for a week apart, the pair had spent the rest of their day snacking by the pool. It had been incredible to have a longer pool for the rehab and recovery of her knee back to a solid form. Ever since, she’d made it a habit to do pool workouts a few times a week. Ridley usually watched, sitting and reading a book or playing with a guitar as she did so. She’d been interested and invested in her rehabilitation and everything that went into it.

Ridley was also getting used to being in a relationship. Allowing herself to love and be loved. The island had been a start, but Alexia had known that. She’d never complained, though. They’d always communicated their needs and fears, no matter how difficulty, and were growing together.

It meant a lot less independence, and more teamwork. Less decision and more compromise. This included Ridley adjusting to become more physical. Able to touch, instead of look respectfully from afar. This meant pushing aside that military side of her which needed her hands free. Learning to be the one to initiate contact. To get used to sleeping with that warmth and skin to skin contact.

It also meant that as Alexia sat at the shallow end of the pool, Ridley could come up behind her, dipping her legs into the cool water either side of the Spaniard and cradle her arms around her, stroking her arms with her fingertips, her neck with her mouth.

Both of them had been rather hesitant with it – the worry of falling too deep – though they’d both had a realisation on the night that Bashir had died as to just how far they were in it already. There was no safety net now. They were all in, together.

“It’s almost 4pm,” Ridley murmured in Catalan as her lips explored along her cheek.

Alexia didn’t answer, because she was more than happy right there instead. She kept her eyes closed, head tilted back as she enjoyed the feel of Ridley everywhere. She could feel herself getting wet, even in the water, and her nipples hardening almost to the point of pain.

“Alexia,” she said again, this time in a more warning tone. Her movements stopped and she covered her cold nipples with her palms. The warmth was glorious. “Your interview.. and I don’t like how cold you’re getting.”

She opened her eyes and realised that the sun had set so low that they were fully covered in shade.

Alexia finished with her interview after an hour and wandered through their large house, in search of Ridley. Although it was very comparable to the way it was when she’d first moved in, due to their similar tastes, it now held pieces of herself also. Jerseys and trophies and sentimental pieces here and there. It felt more like them together, rather than just one of them.

She checked by the pool, the office, her art studio, the library, their bedroom. She checked her bedside table for the passport she’d need the next day and found it exactly where she’d left it, with Ridley’s note tucked into it. Smiling, she put it back and turned to see Chiquito at the door. He must have been spending time with her, as he’d missed her the past week.

“Take me to her…”

Ever the intelligent cat, he turned and led Alexia to the last place she could be if she was still in the house.

There by herself in the darkened studio, was Ridley. Her headphones were around her neck, her hand resting on a keyboard and eyes closed as she listened to the track back, presumably checking a note or lyric. It sounded perfect to Alexia. Something she hadn’t heard before. If she had to describe it, it would be… obsession, and adoration.

Although it was dark, she could still see the silhouette of her face, the emotions written across it as it slightly changed with each part of the song.

Just before it ended, Ridley opened her eyes as if she knew she was there. Her lips tilted up at the confirmation and watched Alexia as she listened to the end of the song with her. From the look on her face, she didn’t even need to ask what the song was about.

It was hers.

YFN POV

YFN shook with nerves as her Lumos team introduced her to the stage. She looked at the clicker in her left hand and the notes in her other, pausing as she decided to leave the latter behind. She knew what she wanted to say.

She walked onto the stage accepting the applause as it rang through the crowd.

“Really good job up there.” She praised her team as they passed each other. They gave her proud smiles and “good lucks” as she took centre stage and stopped to take a breath.

She pressed the clicker and turned to see the new company logo once again adorning the screen.

“We here at Lumos began with so much drive and passion that we forgot to introduce ourselves. Tonight, we remedy that. Good evening, my name is YFN, and it’s my honour to be the first to introduce you to Lumos – the first women’s sports media titan.” She took another breath to steady her heart. “When we started twelve months ago, we had one goal: to change the narrative, to give women’s sports the recognition, respect and platform it deserves and tonight, I’m proud to say we’ve taken our first bold steps and accomplished what no one has before. Lumos is now the primary media outlet for women’s football, covering all the top leagues across the globe with plans to expand into all women’s sports in the future. This is just the beginning, but what a beginning it has been!”

She paused to hear that warm, encouraging applause filling the room. Her gaze briefly met Lucy’s proud look in the crowd which steadied her, as well as Alexia and Ridley’s. Ridley being proud of her meant more than she realised and she felt so supported, surrounded by the people she loved most.

“Tonight, we want to share our story with you – not just where we’ve been, but where we’re going. You’ll see the heart of Lumos – our culture, aspirations, and our commitment to innovation and inclusion. You’ll see our platforms, culture, charity and philanthropic initiatives. But for now, more than anything, you’ll see the power of collaboration. This moment, and everything leading up to it, would not have been possible without the extraordinary women who live and breathe the game. Female footballers, and their fans from around the world have trusted us with their stories, their triumphs, their challenges. Their voices have shaped what we are unveiling tonight, and their courage continues to inspire everything we do.”

She paused to look at Mark, his cheek twitching as he realised who she was referring to. She softened her tone as she continued at that heart of her message.

“Lumos is more than a media company. It’s a mission. And at the core of that mission is a promise to shine a light on every untold story, to give a platform to the overlooked, and to honour the dreams and passions of those who came before us. At the heart of Lumos stands a charity dedicated to the legacy of a young girl who shared the same passions and dreams as we do. Her legacy is our promise: to stand for hope, inclusion and possibility.”

She let the weight of her words linger as the room fell into a deeper silence. Then, with quiet strength, she began her conclusion.

“And to begin our journey, comes the launch of our book… a prequel of our life so far, if you will. It is a reflection of the journey we’ve all taken together. From the friendships, to the love stories, football, the headline-making incidents, footballers, and to the charity at the heart of us. This book is about believing in the power of possibility, about working for something greater than ourselves. We’re here because we believe women’s sports can inspire and unite the world because women too, deserve the spotlight.”

She pressed the clicker in her hand and saw the screen behind her reflecting on the crowd and it were as if the world slowed as they stood to cheer. She took as much of it in as she could, appreciating the moment and all of the hard work she’d put into making the moment what it was. Her eyes flickered over the people in the crowd from Lumos who had made it possible, over Kate and a still unsuspecting William as he clapped for a company he had no idea his wife had created. She looked over the footballers, Katie, Caitlin, Kyra, footballers from Arsenal, Barcelona, and such. Alexia and Ridley were sat at the front with proud smiles alongside Lucy who was clapping loudest of all. She chuckled lightly at that and tried to hold back her tears.

After she took it all in, she smiled and turned to the giant screen behind her which was illuminated with a simple title: Sunsets and Footballers by YFN Bronze.

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antinitoniny · 2 days ago

Text

santa doesn't know you like i do

"i wonder if santa could bring a whole damn 6ft man this midnight" you said, pouring yourself another glass of red wine.

"...is that what you wished for this christmas?" anton, your best friend asked. he seems concerned & LOOKS concerned.

"i mean, i can't really think of anything i want for christmas except for an intelligent, hot, athletic, 6foot man to ruin my 2025." you said

you & anton have been friends since your womb era considering the fact that both of your parents have been friends for decades.

your friendship is basically fixed & y'all can't do anything about it anymore. proven & tested when you tried to cut him off during elementary after stabbing his arm with a pencil but you found each other in one dining table the next evening.

now that your parents wanted some time to themselves, the "kids" are left to take care of the house this christmas eve.

now, you're sitting on the couch next to anton, trying to figure out how the hell would santa fit in the chimney.

"you brought the cookies out, didn't you?" you asked, checking the table near the tree.

"for santa? are we seriously gonna do that?" anton asked, looking at you like you're some 5-year-old.

"um, no? it's for my future husband that he's bringing over." you rolled your eyes jokingly.

"what did you wish for anyway?" you asked

"i wished for someone to like me back" anton said, sitting back comfortably, looking at the ceiling.

silence.

anton waited for your response but you weren't saying anything. curious (and nervous), anton looked at you to check your reaction.

there you are, spacing out.

"what's on your mind?" anton asked, popping your lil bubble.

"how the hell would santa grant that? it's not like he can put that in a box & leave it under the tree" you said

anton laughed loudly for a minute or two which made you think that he's going insane.

anton, on the other hand, found your thoughts funny. he expected you to tease him about his lil crush or ask him about who it is. but instead, you were worrying about santa.

"i can't think of anything else. plus, i don't really believe in santa." anton replied

silence.

but this time, it was because the conversation was done. silence has never been awkward with anton which is mainly why you've learned to love anton's company.

his presence doesn't make you worry about what you're gonna say next nor how you're gonna continue the conversation. you can just exist in one place in silence & it can be the best hours of your day.

"what exactly did you write to santa?" anton asked, looking at you. for some reason, you felt nervous to look back & engage in eye contact so you stared at the tree.

"good morning, santa. if i'm on your good kid list, i'd like to have a good company for christmas. preferably a 6ft man in his 20s, smart, nice, soft spoken, family oriented, athletic, and hot. thank you, santa. merry christmasㅡ with a bunch of hearts" you recited from your memory.

"that's basically me" anton whispered

"huh? are you badmouthing me on christmas?" you raised your brow

"i said that your wish is not that specific" he said sarcastically.

"santa observed me for years as a good kid, he knows me & he knows my type" you rolled your eyes jokingly at him

"i've been with you for more than a decade, i think i know you more than santa" anton mindlessly replied

"your point being?" you asked

anton gulped. he doesn't know what he's going to say & confessing to his longtime crush is definitely not part of his 2024 bingo card.

"that i'm more than qualified than santa in fulfilling your wish" anton said confidently, succeeding in hiding his nervousness (at least in his end)

"i don't think any of your friends fit the criteria" you said, lowkey hoping that anton will offer himself

"i do" and he did

"huh?"

"i fit your criteria, don't i? am i not enough as a christmas gift?" anton teased, leaning over to your side of the couch. anton's confidence grew once he saw how flustered you are.

"hahaha what are you saying? stop it hahahaㅡ i wonder if they're home? i'll checkㅡ" you said, standing up to go to the front door. your face is obviously heating up from the unexpected turn of events.

"i like you" anton interrupted you. you stood frozen to your spot, looking at anton who's already looking at you.

"i love our little moments together like how we spent hours just walking around town last weekend, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. you make the most random things feel important." anton smiled while recalling your little moments together. you couldn't help but smile as well.

"it's the way you laugh at your own jokes, even when no one else does. it's honestly one of my favorite things. you'll say something dumb, then look at me with that "I know it was bad but I’m laughing anyway" expression, and I’ll always laugh too, because I get it. " anton said, slightly teasing you. you rolled your eyes jokingly, chuckling of how accurate he is as if he has read your mind during those moments.

"also, right, you've always hated wearing those big jackets in the winter, but I know you’d never leave the house without it because someone else might be cold. i mean, you always let someone borrow your jacket without a second thoughtㅡyou act like it’s no big deal, but I know it’s because you don’t mind being a little uncomfortable if it means someone else feels better." anton continued.

his words warmed your heart. you didn't know that he noticed that.

"is that why you always wear two jackets and i somehow find a magic jacket on my shoulder?" you laughed

"yeah, and you always tease me about how dramatic i am for wearing two jackets." anton sighed

"you could've just made me hold the other jacket just in case" you said

"you hate holding stuffㅡ it's always ME who's holding your bag anywhere" anton quickly rebutted which made you zip your mouth.

anton chuckled and continued.

"anyway, i admire your perspective on different things & how you view people. it's like, no matter how messy the situation looks, you always manage to find the good in it. you see beauty in the things other people might miss, like how you can walk through a crowded street and notice a little detail, like the color of someone’s shoes or the way a kid is laughing, that makes everything feel lighter. " he said.

"there’s something about the way you move through the world—so real, so unbothered, but always with purpose—that makes me want to be better too."

anton said, looking at you sincerely.

"i can’t help but fall more for the person you are when no one’s looking. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you became someone I want to know more, be more, and be with." anton said, walking closer to you.

"so.. merry christmas?" anton laughed the awkwardness off.

"i don't know what to say, i'm really bad at words" you said, tearing up

"obviously, i'm aware. you're not obligated to say anythingㅡ i just wanted toㅡ i just felt likeㅡ" anton's words were soon interrupted by you.

"i love you. like, fuck it, i stabbed you with a pencil when we were 7 because i was sad because you didn't like me" you confessed. you were so close to crying because of anton's words and anton just stood there, laughing his ass off.

"you're pretty violent..." anton said, acting so offended

"h-heyㅡ"

"i'm sorry for the late confession. i should've known." anton suddenly said. he was about to say more but you immediately interrupted him with a hug.

"...maybe i should start believing in santa" anton chuckled, burying his face on your neck.

"merry christmas, ant." you said, breaking the hug to look at him.

"oh my god. thank you, santa" anton said, completely taken away by your beauty & by the thought of how the situation escalated to this.

you laughed at how chaotic he is. the anton you love, the anton you've loved that seemed to have never changedㅡ and you're glad that he didn't.

"i actually wrote your name on my santa wishlist" you confessed

"good to know. after all, santa won't give you somebody that loves you more than me".

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lushrue · 1 day ago

Text

currently in my priceghost era and wanted to write something with price as the more submissive one

cw: nsfw, oral (m/m), light scent kink, sub space

john sat back in his chair, huffing out an exasperated breath. fireworks exploded behind his eyelids as he dug the heels of his hands in, trying to push out the ache of eye strain. a cursory glance at the clock on his desk revealed that it had been six hours since he’d sat down to start on the mountain of paperwork on his desk. six hours of rifling through mission reports, briefing memorandums, and recruit personnel files. six hours of squinting to read tiny print because he wasn’t old enough to require reading glasses, thank you very much.

he could feel the familiar burning pain creeping up into his shoulders, a reminder of the horrid posture he’d been sitting in the whole time. he felt stiff, unnaturally so. on top of it all, he felt tired. it wasn’t his usual training-all-day-and-shouting-at-unruly-sergeants type of tired. this sank into his bones, gave his skeleton a weight it didn’t have before. even the thought of dragging his heavy body all the way back to the barracks made his back ache and his temples pulse.

his mind had been running a million miles a minute for the past week. it seemed like there was an urgent task lurking around each corner, waiting to demand his full attention. nothing could wait until tomorrow, nothing could be put on the back burner until something else was completed. everything needed done yesterday and he found himself struggling to keep up. if only the world would stop spinning for five minutes, he thought to himself. then I could catch up. it was at that moment he remembered the one man who could bring his world to a halt, if only for a little while.

price had a complicated relationship with his lieutenant. the two of them were…something to each other. they’d both chosen not to put a label on it, simply for the fact that it didn’t need one. their relationship was symbiotic, one hand washing the other for the sake of cleaning both of them. it was a fact of nature that simon was there for john in the ways that he needed, and john repaid simon in turn. in their eyes, relationships like that didn’t need a label. barnacles don’t call the whale it hitches a ride on their lover; a clownfish doesn’t commit to the anemone that provides it shelter. they simply exist in this moment in time to serve a purpose for one another, and that was that.

the captain raised himself from his chair, dragging his heavy feet down the hall towards simon’s office. john knew that simon was up to his nose in paperwork just the same as him. the two of them had talked at length over a pack of cigarettes about how a paper trail was inconvenient at best and dangerous at worst. they both had a nasty habit of putting it all off until later and having to burn the midnight oil more than once to make up for it. his knuckles rapped four times against the door, the rhythmic pattern of it identifying who was knocking. simon had developed it, a way to know that the person on the other side of the door was important enough to put down the pen.

he was met with a gruff “come in” from the lieutenant, his fingers trembling slightly as they closed around the doorknob and twisted. when he pushed the door open, the sight of simon, maskless, greeted him. it was rare for simon to go anywhere on base without at least the balaclava on, but the state of his hair showed that he’d just pulled it off. on nights like these, simon didn’t wear it. it was far too important to john to be able to see his face. simon’s eyes were soft, gentle, as they took in the way john stood in his doorway. shoulders slumped, the lines on his face deeper, the bags under his eyes heavier. simon could read any man like a book, but when it came to his captain, he knew things no one else had ever gotten close enough to know. there was a look in john’s eyes, a certain helplessness that was reserved only for him.

“rough night?” simon asked, leaning back in his office chair and nodding to John to close the door. john did as instructed, a dry chuckle bubbling out of his chest. “you don’t know the half of it,” he replied, voice raspy. he sounded as worn as he looked. it reminded simon of the dirt caked into the tread of his boots, stomped on a thousand times before finally getting to rest. simon just grunted in reply, picking up the pen from his desk. he made a small tick on the report he was reading to mark his place before turning his full attention to his captain. “would you like to talk, or not talk?” simon asked, his words laced with a meaning only the two of them could discern. john met his gaze, a weight seeming to lift off of his shoulders as he made his decision. “not talk.”

simon nodded in understanding, the movement curt and quick. it was almost tactical the way the two of them moved around each other. simon took up his position on the small sofa in his office, parting his legs shoulder-width apart. he took one of the pillows from beside him, holding it out to john as he circled around to his own position. john took the pillow, placing it on the floor between simon’s feet, and lowered himself down onto it. he grunted as his knees hit the tile floor, the blow gratefully softened by the fabric and stuffing. they’d quickly discovered that it was a necessary part of this routine.

“you solid?” john looked up to find simon’s eyes on him, the deep brown of his irises laced with concern. the captain swallowed down the lump forming in the back of his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “solid,” he replied, his tone short. he didn’t want to concern himself with how he felt. not now, not when it all felt too big to handle. simon simply nodded, raising a hand to rest on the back of john’s head. he guided it to his thigh, letting john rest against him for a moment. john didn’t want to talk, and that was fine with simon. he usually did all the talking on nights like these anyway. hours upon hours of silence left him with a lot to say.

“you deserve this, y’know,” he said, stroking his fingers along the length of john’s scalp. “deserve to put down the reins for a bit, have someone else take ‘em up.” john shivered under simon’s touch, goosebumps rising on his arms. it was never true in his own head, but when simon said it, john drank it in like it was gospel. he nodded, his cheek rubbing against the fabric of simon’s fatigues. “i deserve this,” he repeated softly, voice strained with the weight of the emotion he was keeping in.

simon nodded in approval, pleased with john’s acceptance. in the beginning, when they’d first started this little ritual, the captain had done everything he could to keep simon at arm’s length. he’d never stay for long once he’d been given what he needed and eye contact was scarce. now, john had reconciled with the fact that sometimes, he didn’t want to be in charge. sometimes, he needed someone else to tell him what to do. taking orders was as natural as breathing for him, especially when giving them felt like a burden he couldn’t bear. “that’s a good lad,” simon praised, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “you know just what ta do, don’t you? meltin’ in a puddle at my feet.” john’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, turning his head to press his face into simon’s thigh.

simon just chuckled. his boy could be awfully shy when he wanted to be. “look at me,” he commanded. john felt a shiver down his spine at simon’s tone. it wasn’t the same one he used with the sergeants, or when he was training the recruits. it was reserved specially for him, a low timbre that rattled around his brain and dislodged any unwanted thoughts still hanging around. the captain turned his head up, hazy blue eyes meeting simon’s dark chocolate ones. “so beautiful. ya know tha’? most beautiful thing on God’s green earth, on your knees for a nasty bugger like me.”

john wanted to protest, to assure simon that he was far from the nastiest bugger he’d ever knelt for, but the words wouldn’t come. thoughts swirled around in his head like smoke, thin and incorporeal. he tried to grasp at them, but his hands went right through. all he could do was hum and shake his head. simon shook his head, lips rounding in a soothing shushing noise. “don’t think. let me do tha’ for ya.” he placed a finger under john’s chin, stroking him like one would a cat. john’s eyes fluttered shut, letting the feeling of simon’s calloused trigger finger against his throat lift the weight of reality that hung heavy on his shoulders.

slowly, john’s head started to drift off into a much nicer place. it was softer, gentler. mission reports and recruit files fell to the wayside, briefings and emails and memorandums were long forgotten. all there was, in this moment, was him and simon. simon caught every moment of john’s slip, the way his jaw went slack and his eyes stared beyond him. he admired the way john’s eyes seemed to sparkle, admiration shining bright in them. when the stresses of the outside world fell away, all that was left was simon. the lieutenant shifted his hand, dragging his finger up john’s jaw until his hand came to rest on the crown of john’s head. the weight was comforting and grounding, keeping him tethered to the earth.

“tha’s a good boy,” simon praised, his thumb stroking john’s scalp. the captain practically purred, pressing his head up into simon’s touch. it felt nice and his one-track mind wanted more of it. simon shifted on the sofa, sweatpants growing tight. something in john’s far-away gaze made him chub up, the way he was so vulnerable and trusting beneath him. here, simon held all the power. “jus’ needed a li’l stress relief, hmm? needed your simon to get ya through.” john nodded, drool leaking against simon’s thigh.

simon chuckled at the sight, reaching forward and wiping some of the spit from the corner of john’s mouth. with a gentle motion, he pressed his thumb to the seam of john’s lips, pressing insistently. john’s mouth fell open and simon pushed his finger in, letting his thumb rest against john’s tongue. the way his lips closed around the digit made simon groan. he’d quickly discovered that his boy had an oral fixation, always needing something in his mouth to keep him occupied. all those damn cigars, he’d figured. john hollowed his cheeks, eyes fluttering shut as he bobbed his head on simon’s thumb. he whined low in his throat when he realized it wasn’t quite what he needed, shifting impatiently on the pillow.

“settle, lovie. i’ll give ya what ya need soon enough. jus’ wanna enjoy the sight of ya.” simon leaned back against the sofa, utterly transfixed by the man in front of him. john’s tongue curled around simon’s finger, teeth lightly scraping the skin. with his eyes heavy-lidded, he looked the very picture of debauchery, letting go and giving simon his soft underbelly. drool pooled in the corners of his mouth, wetting his lips and cheeks. if simon thought hard enough, he could pretend that it was his cock between john’s lips instead. he groaned aloud at the mere image, cock tenting his sweats. he used his free hand to push the waistband down, dragging his boxers down with it.

john opened his eyes, teeth digging into the flesh of simon’s thumb as he caught sight of what he truly wanted. he could smell the musk coming off of the lieutenant, thick and heavy in his nose. he pulled his head back and released simon’s thumb, leaning forward to mouth at his cock. his tongue trailed along the protruding vein at the base, humming softly when simon shivered with delight. simon’s head fell back against the wall, his eyes screwed shut as his cock twitched. precum dripped down his shaft, the tip red and angry at having been ignored thus far.

simon cupped the back of john’s head, coaxing him to look up. john met simon’s gaze, baby blue eyes pleading for permission. “this what you wan’, baby? want this fat cock down your throat?” simon asked, voice rough and gravelly. john nodded, the stimulation of his cheek against simon’s cock making his thighs clench. he couldn’t find the words, mouth moving to beg, but simon shushed him. “none o’ that. not gonna let my best boy go without,” he cooed, adjusting his hips so that the tip of his cock laid against john’s lips.

john’s tongue darted out, lapping up the precum that was beading up. it was salty and bitter, but he drank it in like the sweetest ambrosia. simon moaned loud, the sound coming from low in his chest. he’d long since given up on trying to be quiet on these nights. there was hardly anyone around, and if there were any nosy recruits, he’d shut them up with latrine duty. “tha’s it, right fuckin’ there,” he groaned, hips bucking to press his cock deeper into john’s mouth. “take it all, lovie. know you can, so good for me-”

simon’s words were cut off when john took him to the hilt, the captain’s throat rumbling with a satisfied moan. electricity shot up his spine, simon’s hands scrambling for purchase on the sofa. the pleasure was heady, thoughts dissipating like clouds and the room spinning like a carousel. as pent up as he was, it only took a few minutes and a well-timed swallow for simon to lose himself. he spilled down john’s throat, pearly-white spend shooting into the back of his mouth. john drank it down, needy moans vibrating around simon’s cock as he sucked him through his orgasm.

the moment simon’s soul came back into his body, he eased john’s head back, tapping his cheek to coax him to breathe. john was panting, eyes glistening with tears from all the times he’d gagged. his cheeks were flushed, a cum-drunk expression on his face. simon was satisfied, and it seemed john was too. needs fulfilled for each other, symbiotic relationship solidified. john took his moment of rest, catching his breath before parting his lips again. simon acquiesced, placing his softening prick on john’s waiting tongue. there was no need for pleasure, no work to be done. the two of them could rest here like this for as long as they needed, basking in the glow of the moment they’d shared. “good boy,” simon praised breathlessly, petting john’s hair. “keep it warm for me, tha’s it.”

a few hours later, once they’d parted ways and john had settled in for bed, he found a different kind of weight had settled on his chest. perhaps these nightly routines were more than just quid pro quo, but no matter. simon could help him figure it all out later.

#call of duty #cod smut #cod #cod fic #captain john price #john price #captain price #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #priceghost #ghostprice

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carryonafi · 2 days ago

Text

keep my stocking filled.

ashton irwin x reader; SMUT

a/n: happy holidays and merry christmas to my loves who celebrate 🤍 i hope your holiday season is going wonderful so far, i’m here to give you my gift to all of you for being so patient with my crazy posting schedule. i’m not the most consistent, but you’ve all been so wonderful either way. this year has been crazy and i think the perfect way to end it is with some fluffy, lovey ashton smut. enjoy!!

words: 3.1k

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The first thing you did that morning was snatch your phone off of the bedside table and open up your emails and search for the long awaited confirmation you were looking for.

“Your order has been shipped”

You smiled to yourself, clicking the link that brought you to the tracking page and seeing that it was on its way.

“Package has arrived at carrier office”

Some of the most exciting news you could get, it kept you bouncing around the house until the hour it got to your doorstep. The squeal of excitement you let out made you glad that you were by yourself in the empty house.

What was concealed behind the dull cardboard was the brightest piece of lingerie you could ever own. Red satin with ties for the front and instructions on how to tie the panels together in a bow shape, but was also easily taken apart. The two little cats you had together, Beans and Toast were meowing curiously and already occupying the box. This was your Christmas present a few years ago, Ashton suggested he go through immunotherapy before you moved in together so you didn’t have to get rid of your babies.

“got a present for you when you get home ;)”

Your fingers glide across the keyboard of your phone like they never have before, quickly sending a text to your boyfriend with a picture of the Christmas tree you had set up and a small peek of the red silk just barely in the corner of the photo. What sparked the idea for you to buy this in the first place was the first reaction you got from Ashton seeing you in a matching piece specifically designed for being sexy, not just some undergarments, you bought and wore them with purpose. So now, it was time to add to the collection. There would be nothing like seeing his eyes sparkle so intensely when he got to unwrap that bow.

“It better be you sitting under that tree.”

“… Preferably with no clothes on. xx”

He replied back with a red heart emoji following his second text message, you giggled to yourself before typing again.

“even better”

You said with a heart of your own, then set off on your mission to try on the lingerie and practice tying the knot a few times until it was perfect. Now a waiting game, trying not to be too impatient for Ashton’s arrival. The ribbon stayed tied, wandering around with it but also making sure it was easy to come apart.

—

The moment finally came where you were covered up in a fluffy black robe, standing at the counter while trying to place some saran wrap over a batch of brownies you made just moments prior. The front door camera notification came up on your phone and you could hear the eager clicking of the front door, you had to hold back turning to look over your shoulder. When you heard his hushed voice speaking to the cats and the door shut once again, your heart skipped a beat… but god it seemed like so many.

You held your breath, but after hours of waiting you felt Ashton’s strong arms wrap around your middle from behind. He leaned his body weight against you, pressing your frame into the counter as you giggled quietly. Ashton was cold, the fabric of his jacket wasn’t too heated but you could still feel the chill sink through the fluff of your robe.

“Hi.” You said simply, gently pushing the tray of brownies off to the side and turning around with what little room you had to face him. Your arms draped lazily over his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck and lightly grazing the tufts of hair which poked out from his beanie.

“Hey, baby.” Ashton replied in this relieved tone of voice that had you blushing in seconds, the brown curls of his hair laid over one eye.. but you couldn’t bring yourself to push it away.

“Felt like forever you were gone.” You breathed, pressing your forehead to his just as he briefly reached up to take off his beanie and return his hand to your waist.

“It was forever, I missed you.” He didn’t bother ruffling his hair to fix it, but instead pressed a sweet, tender kiss to your lips while his hands massaged your hips in slow circles. You spent a few moments like this, basking in each other’s presence which doubled as warming him up due to being out in the cold. It wasn’t very long until Ashton was sliding his hands back to the front of your robe to try and undo the knot, but you hurried to stop him.

“Hold on.” You had a hand on his chest, meanwhile his eyes drew shapes all over what skin you had exposed… but he was confused. “Go to the couch.” You instructed him quietly, watching as he slowly pulled away from you and raised his eyebrows. At this point you were grinning wildly, following close behind as Ashton wandered through the open kitchen over to the sectional sofa in the living room. Now the cats were preoccupied with something else, whatever it was, you were glad that you didn’t have to shut yourselves off in the bedroom to avoid the awkwardness of two little faces staring at you.

“The anticipation is killing me.” Ashton sighed, settling into the couch and looking back at you still standing behind him. Your manicured fingertip traced the soft linen of the blanket draped across the cushions, walking around the furniture. His gaze never once broke from your sauntering figure, taking a deep, silent breath as his tongue ran over his bottom lip.

“You waited for me all day, you can wait a few more seconds.” You giggled at him, eliciting a whine of your name past that pink pout which you longed to kiss again. Finally, you stood between his knees where his legs were spread wide off of the couch cushions, socks planted firmly on the floor so you had a comfortable place to stand. “Wanna see?” You began taunting the tie to your robe with your fingers, slipping your index in the knot to loosen it further.

“Come on.” He frowned, his flaming eyes burning into yours as you finally gave into the temptation and let the tie fall loose. The robe was now slightly hung to the side as it slid from your shoulders, left first, then right, then a light thud as it hit the carpet. Ashton was in awe, reaching out to run his hands along the sweet satin bottoms and the stitch where they met your bare skin. Another shy giggle slipped past your lips when his touch tickled you and made you squirm, forming into a hum as Ashton firmly placed both hands on your hips to hold you in place.

“Was it worth the wait?” You asked, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth just while your hands fixed themselves in his hair.

“Fucking was it…” Ashton breathed, pulling you closer and motioning for you to get in his lap, to which you obeyed immediately. “How do I enjoy this properly?” He whispered, keeping eye contact as he pressed a kiss to your chest right above the center of the bow.

“That’s your choice, make Christmas your own.” You giggled, gasping once the position changed and you were on your back against the soft couch cushions. Ashton seemed to take it as a challenge, his finger hooked in the knot of the bow with a few more kisses along your collarbones… then he stopped.

“Not yet.” He muttered to himself, the movement of his lips against your skin made you sigh.

It was the warmth of the house, the smell of that sweet cookie scented candle on the coffee table and the lotion that you had put on after washing your hands while handling the brownies. Underneath the festive atmosphere was your erotic scene on the couch, Ashton’s lips had somehow reached every inch of your skin that wasn’t concealed by the satin. He blew a playful raspberry against the flesh of your hip, you gave a squeal of laughter accompanying the kicking of your legs.

“Ash!” You giggled, Ashton used this opportunity to firmly grip your thighs and hook your legs over his shoulders.

“Can’t resist you, you smell like fuckin’ cookies.” He grinned back at you, his fingers hooking in the nice trim waistband of your panties.

“Well I tried to go for vanilla… it’s the lotion you got me.” You whispered, propping yourself up on your forearms as you looked down at his smiling face.

“Hm, it only means you smell good enough to eat.” Ashton started to pull your panties down, only teasing himself as you lifted your hips to help him.

“Is that what you’re gonna do to me?”

“Mmhmm. Lay down.” Ashton mumbled against your hip, one hand moving up your core to gently press down. So you gave in and laid down all the way with a soft smile on your face, the lace was finally gone and Ashton was back to kissing you. He traced shapes on your inner thighs, hips and lower stomach, just teasing and making you arch into his touch.

“You’re so gorgeous, do you know how gorgeous you are?”

“Shut up,” you whined. Ashton’s lips got way too close to your core too many times for you to count, you weren’t going to wait much longer.

“That’s not nice, I thought this was my gift…” He squeezed your thighs and hid his smile behind another few kisses, but no response came to mind so all you did was huff and lay your head back again.

Finally, just finally after a tug on his hair Ashton pressed his lips to your entrance and kissed again. Not much, but close.

“Oh my god…” You choked out in half frustration, but Ashton was getting the hint and picking up the slack. His tongue moved tentatively, fingertips leaving rough indents in your thighs as he buried himself in your heat. Those frustrated groans melted away, he had you moaning and arching your back to get more and more out of him. Ashton obeyed with every cue, never letting go of your legs for a second… something in you gave a slight feeling that he wouldn’t be done with you after this.

Ashton was a man on a mission, not giving a single thought to the way his stubble might start to rough up your inner thighs due to his aggression, not like it was a problem. The problem was that it drove you further to your finish, making the moment shorter.

“W— Wait! No… not yet—“ You gasped, trying hard to tug on Ashton’s hair and pull him off. He didn’t relent, he kept going until you were holding it in and finally letting the overstimulation crash down. Ashton was clearly enjoying it, he groaned with satisfaction at your taste and slowed down to guide you through that orgasm. When he poked his head up, he had this cheeky little smile on his face. The one where his dimples showed, the one that made you smile back despite how breathless you were.

“I think I’m going to unwrap my present now…” He hummed, his hands following the curves of your sides. You were about to speak, but he shook his head. “And don’t you say anything either, I’m taking my time.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “So much drama.”

“Mhm.” Ashton hummed to shut you up, leaning down over your quivering form to kiss you softly, stark in contrast to how he was just using his mouth moments before. His fingers played with the bow, running his fingertips over the knot and giving it a playful tug. He had to stop kissing you in order to focus on the bow, his eyes darting down to pull it loose with bated breath. The bottom hem stayed around you, which meant he had to carefully unclip the front as well.

“Merry Christmas.” You giggled at the childlike wonder on his face, his eyes roaming over your body and taking in every small detail.

“Best present ever, you’re just… always the best,” Ashton was fumbling, it was so cute… you laughed again and shook your head.

“Don’t make this sappy, we’ll be sappy tomorrow.” You sealed that promise with another kiss to his lips, and he came back with another.

“I can be sappy and fuck you into the couch, don’t you know how good at multitasking I am?” He sassed, nudging his nose against yours as your hands ran over his jaw and gently scratched his cheeks.

“I guess you have to be if…” You looked down, his belt was undone and his jeans were to his knees. The only telling sign of this was how much he was moving around to get them down.

“Merry Christmas.” Ashton mocked you, he grunted once he earned a playful smack to the chest.

“I don’t see a fancy bow down there.” It was your turn to sass back, but no matter how much you bickered or teased each other, nothing was bumpy. It was all smooth sailing and you moved along just like normal, Ashton was very good at multitasking, since his boxers were gone in a few seconds as well.

“I said I’m good at multitasking, not this whole… show like you put on.” He propped one hand next to your head, but his statement made you laugh before realizing he had just slipped between your legs in one motion. You choked out a breath in the middle of your giggling, eyes closing as you got used to the feeling.

“Oh—! F.. Fuck you…” This had to have been the second time that he caught you off guard, Ashton smiled that mischievous little smile again and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Sorry, precious.” He whispered, continuing those kisses on your cheek and along your jaw. You gasped as he moved his hips a bit further, hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly and digging into his shirt.

“Mh, take it off— take it off.” You pleaded, Ashton obeyed and practically tore his shirt off over his head, immediately getting back into position. Thank god, was all you could think. Your hands returned to his shoulders, drifting towards his collarbones as Ashton started to thrust and thoroughly pleasure you. He made a sound, like a quiet growl against your neck with both hands planted firmly on the couch cushions. Whatever it was, it was hot and got you moaning back in response.

“Squeezin’ me, baby. Like I’ve never fucked you before.” He muttered, latching onto your pulse point to muffle a moan. The only lights that were on were the Christmas lights and the ones above the kitchen counter, the living room only holding a soft glow which made the contours of Ashton’s back and shoulders look delectable.

“I… I really love you,” You whimpered, trying to speak but each thrust almost made you unable to form a coherent sentence.

“‘M trying to dirty talk over here, baby. Thought you said no getting sappy?” Ashton smiled against your neck, nibbling at your skin to make you stumble over your words again.

“Wasn’t… hm— jus’ say it back.” You protested, your nails leaving scratch marks down his chest as you gathered enough strength to hoist your legs up a bit higher around his waist.

“I know, I know… I love you too.” Ashton whispered, his own words failing to sound out together. His breathing picked up, hot against your neck as did the pistoning of his hips.

You were left in a haze, tilting your head to bury your face in Ashton’s hair and moaning against those soft, sandalwood scented curls. Just a little more, you begged him quietly for just a little more to get you through to your second orgasm.

“Ashton…” You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck as he left you with no choice, his chest was pressed to yours so he could whisper in your ear.

“Shh, let it go.” He kissed your hair, his hips stuttering. “I’ll be right behind you, sweetheart, Paint my pretty girl white, how does that sound?” Ashton cooed in that tone that had you melting, you were putty in his hands as you whined and came around his cock. That delicious pulse inside you, you knew he would keep his promise. He smiled like you had just made him proud, straightening his arms and pushing himself up. “My good girl. I won’t make you flip over, as long as you promise to look at me.”

“I promise,” you whimpered, maintaining eye contact as Ashton pulled out. You let out another sound at the loss, but quickly brought back on track as he cupped your face and wrapped a firm hand around his shaft.

“Stay just like that, exactly, look at you…” He praised, chest heaving with each labored breath he took. The sight of your flushed cheeks and watering eyes drove him mad. Plump, kiss swollen lips that he had bruised from his affection, it all made him feel so possessive. With one final moan he covered your torso in his release, making sure you got every drop as the warmth made you shiver. Ashton got down again to kiss you one last time, to claim those gorgeous pink lips and securely wrap both arms around you. Just a bit ago you were so well put together all for him, it was quite award winning to see you such a mess after he was finished with you.

“This is what I like to see…” Ashton hummed, suckling on your jaw and leaving one last dark mark of his property. You were still in a bit of a daze, only speaking when he pulled away to look at you.

“Merry Christmas?” You giggled, having said that for the 5th time tonight. Ashton laughed along with you and helped you adjust your position on the couch so you were both lying comfortably.

“You got any more fun surprises for me?” He traced your cheekbone. You tapped your chin playfully, looking up at the ceiling.

“Mm… the brownies are done?” You offered, that got Ashton hooked.

“Okay, okay. Let’s lay here for just another minute.” He promised, having to reel himself in from the temptation of brownies as you laughed at him and held him a bit closer than before. It was too nice and warm to leave your cocoon under the Christmas lights, apparently, the chocolate wasn’t tempting enough.

#5sos fanfic #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #michael clifford #5sos smut #5sos x reader #5sos one shot #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin smut

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highonmarvel · 2 days ago

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Heyy love your work. I wanted to make a request for Bucky Barne was thinking something like reader goes to his house for Christmas but then he forcefully drugs her with a syringe and she's held captive. But he's overal nice enough. He'd let her kick or scream or fight back. But then one day he lets her out of the basement or wherever he keeps her and she tries to escape and succeeds to some degree He manages to catch her and he snaps, gets angry and punishes her and she's scared cuz he snapped.

Winter

i love this! i’m sorry this isn’t proofread—i’m late as is and needed to get this out into the world so at least some people can read this as they lie in bed and have it be relevant. also, i’m so sorry, i left out the syringe bit because i got too into the plot i conjured up with the food coma here, sorry, sweetheart, but please, send another request if you really want to see it get done. let me know your thoughts, also to my sister @thehydraethereal. with that out of the way:

Bucky Barnes: A Christmas dinner opens your eyes to a new type of Winter.

additional content warnings here!

CONTENT WARNING, PLEASE READ: This piece includes graphic depictions of torture. Seriously, this is really dark; do not proceed if you are not comfortable with explicit descriptions of physical violence. This is your warning. This is fucking dark. I can not stress this enough. I am fucked up.

It wasn’t that you were technically averse to relationships or had commitment issues, you just feel like at this point in your life a solid relationship wasn’t really going to work. You had been travelling to the other side of the country quite a bit to take care of your sister, but this Christmas, your parents went down, so you didn’t really have an excuse to bail when Bucky invited you to dinner.

You don’t think you’re technically dating him–you don’t ever recall you or him asking the other to be their partner–but you’ve at least been going out with him for a few months. Guess you’d have to face him at some point; it’s been nearly three weeks since he had suggested you live together, which had caught you completely off-guard. You had managed to side-step the conversation at the time before making up some bullshit excuse to leave, and you haven’t had the courage to face him since.

Pulling into Bucky’s driveway always makes you feel a little uneasy; he doesn’t live like a hermit or overly secluded, but for some reason the houses in this suburb seem just a little too far apart for comfort–no one really has ‘neighbours.’

The scent of a very well-cooked meal carries right up to the front door, making you take a deep whiff before knocking.

“Hi, honey,” Bucky answers the door, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“God, I’m practically drooling out here,” you say, and Bucky laughs as he steps out of the way and allows you in. “How long have you been standing?”

“Ah, a few hours,” he admits, sheepishly, watching you hang your coat up and rubbing the back of his neck when you raise your eyebrows at him.

“But it’s just the two of us, no?” you question as you lead him into the kitchen (maybe you being so casual in his home gave him the impression you’d like to move in with him).

“Yeah,” he replies, tailing you. “But I realised I don’t really know what you like and I panicked a bit.”

You giggle and that seems to ease his apparent embarrassment, allowing him to let out a breathless laugh as he moves into the kitchen, standing on the other side of the island as you settle on a stool.

“How have you been?” he inquires as he pours you a glass of wine, not making eye contact.

“Alright,” you reply, watching the red liquid slosh into the glass. “Glad to have some time off.”

“How’s your sister?”

You sigh and mouth a thank you to him as he slides the glass towards you. After a sip, you look up at him. “Better, I think, and she’s only allowed two visitors at a time–my parents really wanted to see her so I let them for Christmas, they don’t really get a chance otherwise.”

He hums in understanding as he puts on pink oven mitts and crouches down.

“Are you disappointed?” he asks loudly as he pulls a dish out of the oven.

You shrug. “I’d have liked to go, but I’m not all that sad about it. I don’t have much going for me in New York, so I was worried I’d be bored, but I’m having a good time.

“You just got here!” He laughs as he rises with a turkey.

“I know, but wine.” You raise your glass to him and peer into the ceramic dish. “Turkey?” you ask, which he responds to with a hum of affirmation.

“I don’t really like it, not sure if you do.”

“I like it. I would have thought you patriots like Thanksgiving stuff, though.”

You help him set up a few dishes across a small dining table and sit down.

“This was really sweet, Bucky.” You smile, tone sincere and nearly sappy as he cuts you a large leg of turkey. “Doesn’t this stuff make you sleepy?” you joke, and it takes him just a beat too long to chuckle.

“I think that’s a myth, actually,” he responds as he sits back down across from you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows as you dig your knife and fork into the leg. “I could have sworn...”

“Is it good?” he asks, watching you carefully, and with a kind of interest that makes you slightly uneasy, but you can’t deny it’s heavenly. You nod enthusiastically and point to the meat.

“God, this is great! You’d swear there was cocaine in here or something.”

Something lights in his eyes for a second, a spark you mistake for happiness. Bucky has always loved nothing more than to see you happy and relaxed: one of the reasons you were so drawn to him was his genuine desire to not only make you as happy as possible, but to appreciate that joy. Sometimes you got the impression making you happy pleased him almost as much as it pleased you, if not more. And it was times like these you felt bad you weren’t really able to make a commitment to him. He never seemed to mind it all too much, but you can tell it’s something he wants, and you almost feel like you’re taking advantage of his affection–but he knows, and you know, and if he isn’t happy with this arrangement, surely he’d say something.

But Bucky has to bite back the retort, “Well, not that drug.”

After a hearty meal you only put down when you feel you’re genuinely on the verge of passing out, you push away your plate. “Woo! I don’t know how I’m ever gonna work that off. I think I’ve gained, like, 10.”

“You're perfect the way you are,” Bucky says, leaning down to press his lips to your cheek as he clears the table.

You close your eyes and hum in delight, but you find it a little hard to open them again. When you manage to pry your eyes open again, it’s not much, still looking at the table through droopy lids. You stand and sway, rattling your chair as you grapple the table for support.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks as he reappears in your line of sight, brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah,” you respond, squeezing your eyes shut and ripping them open again. “But I really should get going.”

“Get going?” he repeats, moving to your side for support as you stumble forward. “I don’t think you should drive right now.”

But you dismiss him with a wave of your hand, pushing off of him to stand up straight. You think you say, “I’m fine. I’ll call you.” but you can’t really make out the words through the slight slurring.

“Lie down,” he offers gently, taking a step towards his bedroom.

“No…” you tear your arm free of his grasp. You had spent the night with him before, but for a reason you can’t figure out, this time, something is screaming at you to decline.

“Really, darling, you need to,” he insists, his voice having dropped to a low murmur. He takes a step forward and you instinctively take a step back, feeling a little guilty when he stops dead in his tracks and something like hurt flashes across his features. You know something that makes Bucky wince is when he feels someone is afraid of him, and you can only imagine how he must feel now if you’re the one displaying apprehension.

You shake your head and turn away from him to the doorway.

“Hey...” You startle as you feel his grip on your forearm, gentle, but firm. “You’re not leaving.” The words are said in a sincerely concerned way, but the fact the statement came off as more of a command than a suggestion really triggers something in you.

“Bucky...” you groan as you uselessly try to pull away, feeling weaker than you otherwise would, even against him.

He doesn’t have to give too sharp of a tug to make you stumble into his arms, his hold on you steady, and, at any other time, safe, but now it feels more certain, somehow, almost possessive. You try to protest but you’re practically babbling incoherently under him, head lolled to the side as he adjusts his grip from under your arms to pick you up bridal style.

“Just lie down for a second...”

And you’re too out of it to notice he’s passed his bedroom door.

***

It’s difficult to open your eyes again, your lashes stuck together as you turn your head over. When vision slowly comes back to you, you’re met with a midcentury wooden bedside table you don’t recognise. You prop yourself up on your forearm and squint into the room, looking for any signs of familiarity, and the only thing you recognise is the thing you dread.

“What…” you begin to mutter, and Bucky looks up from the book he’s reading with a smile.

“You’re up.” He stands from the chair positioned by ‘your’ (this isn’t your bed) beside and moves to sit on the edge, placing a hand to your forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

You weakly slap his hand away as you start to really wake up and realise what’s going on.

“I’m not… this isn’t… what…” you can’t really find the words to ask the questions you need answers to.

“It’s your Christmas present!” he says with a grin, standing to make a grand gesture with his arms, out to the room. I’ve got your favourite books here, I remember you telling me you used to want a four poster princess bed.” He points to the ceiling and sure enough, pretty curtains hang over your head. “But if you don’t like it I can change it.” He shrugs and stands somewhat nervously as he waits for you to react.

“What… the fuck.”

He tsks and swings his arms back and forth, rocking on his heels.

“I set it up for you a few weeks ago, I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable sleeping with me every night, I know you like your space.”

“Are you out of your mind!?” You throw the sheets off of you and manage to stand, even though your head feels a little heavy.

He sighs and steps forward. “I know it feels like–”

“Oh, you know what it feels like? You know what it feels like to be ostensibly kidnapped by your boyfriend?”

He blushes. “So I am your boyfriend.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You throw a pillow at him (ineffective but it was the nearest thing) which he catches with ease and turns over to reveal an embroidered flower. “I made this,” he says, proudly.

“What the fuck!?” you shriek as you throw another pillow at him, this one he dodges easily.

You’ve never seen him like this, nearly giddy and, in this context, borderline delusional. It makes you grip onto your hair and bunch your fingers into the locks. “Oh, my god, you’re insane!”

“I’m not the one yelling and throwing things,” he mutters, and your eyes snap up to his.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you begin, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry I don’t react well to crimes committed against me.”

“You came into my house.”

“Yes, but I didn’t come into this room! Do you really expect me to believe I can just leave anytime? That that door isn’t locked. You think I’m fucking stupid?”

He gently tosses the pillow back onto the bed and winces. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Bucky,” you begin, carefully, voice dangerously low as you step up to him. “I don’t know what in god’s name has gotten into you, but I’m not having it. I’m leaving.”

“Sweetheart, you really don’t intimidate me.” And the way he says it with such sincere pity makes you shove at his chest. He doesn’t stumble, but he takes a step back for your benefit.

You match his step and poke your finger in his chest, glaring up at him with more fury than you thought you had and trying your hardest not to wrap your hand around his throat. What really pisses you off is his patronising speech; you can tell he genuinely thinks he’s doing good, and that he honestly feels bad that you can’t appreciate it, that you’re weaker than him, and it boils your blood. Apathy or even mockery would be better than this condescending way he’s deluded himself into believing this is for your benefit.

“Don’t call me sweetheart, you piece of shit. If that door is locked, you’re gonna unlock it, and you’re going to leave me the fuck alone.” You practically spit the words at him through gritted teeth, seething to the point you can feel heat radiating from your body and wouldn’t be surprised if there was literal steam coming out of your ears.

“Sit down, angel.”

“Talk to me like that again and there will be nothing angelic about what I do to you.”

“Your mother called.”

That gets your attention and your anger dissipates for a moment. “Really? What did she say?”

When he guides you to sit down, you’re not really in the space to fight him off, waiting to hear any news from your family.

“They’re coming down in a few days, for New Year’s, and, they’re bringing your sister–they say she’s stable enough for travel.”

You feel your eyes begin to water at the thought of your sister being that strong, of being able to talk to her like you used to, before she got sick. But you snap out of it, and that swelling in your heart turns to something close to anxiety, but closer to suspicion. “Why are you telling me this?”

He scoffs as if you’re asking him if the sky is blue. “Because I know you want to see them. I told them they could stay with us for a few days.”

“With us?”

He just blinks. “Yes, with us.”

“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think…” And the next few hours are spent with you screaming in his face, swinging punches which he easily dodges, but sometimes he humours you and allows you a hit–not like it hurts anyway. His calm demeanour and ‘care’ makes you infuriated beyond belief, and by the end of the night the room has been trashed, there are scratches on the door from your desperate clawing and pounding, your voice is hoarse from all the yelling, and you’re exhausted while Bucky is no more beaten than when you first woke up.

Eventually, you’ve physically exhausted yourself so much you can’t even push him away when he climbs into bed next to you and holds you in his arms, placing your head against his chest and caressing your hair, which he knows always relaxes you and helps you fall asleep.

***

You only know it’s morning when you wake up because Bucky greets you with it, but it doesn’t take long for your attention to fall to the walls, noticing there aren’t any windows.

“We’re in the basement, you know.” Bucky comments, watching your eyes dart around the room and catching on to what you’re doing. “I don’t have a spare room, you know that.”

You’re nearly tired of glaring daggers at him seeing as he doesn’t really feel it–if anything, it seems to spur him on, like he doesn’t really care what you do as long as he gets some kind of reaction out of you. If you remained as stoic as he did, maybe that would give him pause for thought, but you really can’t resist the urge to attack him, and he somehow sees it as endearing, like any attention you give him makes his heart swell.

Initially, you refuse his invitation for breakfast upstairs, but when that morning grumpiness subsides, you let your stubbornness fall away in favour of opportunity. This really solidifies in your mind Bucky is so convinced you’ll stay that he doesn’t really worry about turning his back on you as he flips an egg.

“Where’re you going?”

You stop dead in your tracks, shocked he had heard you get up when you were practically sneaking like a cartoonish villain.

“To the bathroom,” you lie, to which he responds with a simple, “Okay.”

It’s too easy, but you’d rather take your chances than wonder if this is some kind of setup. You have to get out of here as soon as possible, so you don’t have time to look for your car keys, but you hesitate at the door. It’s beginning to snow, and you’re not dressed anywhere near enough to make it to a neighbour–the only thing that had kept you warm before coming up to see him was that nice coat, but it’s not on the rack anymore.

There’re only a few locks you have to turn to quietly open the door, your teeth chattering as a cold breeze hits you so hard it’s painful, like your skin is literally freezing onto your bones. You’re barefoot, no less. You can’t kid yourself into thinking you won’t lose a toe or some extremities in the process, but you can not stay. It really has only been one night, but something you’ve never liked in your life is being trapped, makes your skin crawl to the point you’d rather shed it than be deprived of freedom, especially when you’ve got the chance to see your family soon. And besides, it’s really not that long of a walk to the next house, you won’t die out there, but you can only vaguely make it out through the snow, and if you scream, it’ll surely be drowned by the harsh winds. With one last glance behind you, you step into the snow, and instantly regret it, your feet set close to frozen in just a few seconds, and goosebumps rising so quickly across your skin it feels like you’ve suddenly broken out in hives. And just as you consider turning back, you’re shoved forward, and you shriek as you land face first in the snow, afraid of crying at the impact lest your tears turn to ice right on your cheeks.

You’re gripped by the arm and pulled upright, before being again pushed further away from the house you can feel radiating warmth just through the open door. You gasp for air as you manage to bring yourself to your hands and knees, fingers curling into the snow and slowly becoming numb. A harsh gust blows, nearly knocking you off balance, and you squint to look up at the door, Bucky standing before you in little more than a long-sleeved t-shirt (he’s more underdressed than you) and sweatpants, hair still a little messy with sleep, but the look in his eyes, it’s a look you’ve never been on the receiving end of–in fact, you’ve never even seen it, but you can recognise it immediately.

“You forget I’m the Winter Soldier.” You’re not sure how his deep growl manages to carry across the howling of the winds, but you don’t have time to figure it out before a metal hand grips a fistful of your hair and you’re dragged through the snow, instinctively trying to plant your feet in the ground to stop him but even if you could match his strength, the cold is unbearable, and your legs are starting to feel numb, yet still stiff.

You don’t have time to be grateful that you’ve been thrown back into warmth as you slide across the floor and Bucky kicks the door shut behind him. From a hallway table, he pulls out a wrench, and you struggle to get your arms and legs to move away from him as he approaches you, menacingly.

You don’t know how such slow and heavy footsteps manage to catch up to you so quickly, but soon he’s got his boot pressing down on your ankle, preventing you from doing more than thrashing around. He leans down and grips your face roughly, forcibly pulling you up to meet him, and his eyes are so void of emotion he nearly looks dead. He doesn’t look angry, he looks like he just can’t feel.

“I do all this for you, and you can’t even offer me a pretty little smile.” His large fingers reach into your mouth, pulling your lips and teeth apart wide, wide enough for him to shove the wrench into your mouth and attach it to one of your teeth. “You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. Maybe you’ll appreciate it more if it just wasn’t the same.” You feel your gum twist and let out a cry, gurgling through your throat. Your frail fingers grasp onto his wrist as you desperately try to shake your head, but his strong hold prevents you from it. He twists a little more and you squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath, before he eventually pulls out and you gasp for dear life, tears stinging your vision.

He roughly tugs you up and practically throws you into a nearby chair, before taking your hand with surprising gentleness, caressing your hurting fingers with the back of his for a moment before adjusting his grip to bring the wrench back forward.

“Now this is no good…” he remarks, moving his head to see more of your frostbitten marks you’re sure will leave scars. “You know what happens to these?” The wrench attacks itself to your index finger and Bucky adjusts its width so it’s threatening to chop your finger right off.

You scream at him to let go, kicking at his legs gets no reaction out of him, but don’t dare to move the hand he’s still holding.

“What if I just…” He twists only slightly and your skin breaks, blood seeping down from your frayed skin and dripping onto your thigh.

Just as you’re about to let out an unstoppable shriek of pain, Bucky’s metal hand presses to your mouth, stopping the sound going any further than echoing off his palm for only you to hear again. He twists more and you move your wrist with it, trying anything to stop him from twisting your finger off. He notices this and removes his other hand from your mouth to hold your wrist firmly in place.

“Bucky, please–”

“Shut up!” he shouts, his hold on you tightening even further. He lowers his face to yours with wide eyes, jaw clenched impossibly tight, and speaks in a dangerously low register, his voice trembling with fury as he tries to hold it together, at least in demeanour if not in action. “You really fucked up, and if you don’t have any fingers, you won’t be able to open my door ever again.”

✪

[my beloved taglist: @cowboysnbugs, @keito-123, @vogueprincess, @cjand10, @mybabygirllove]

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark bucky #dark!bucky x you #dark bucky x you #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark bucky barnes x y/n #dark avengers #dark!avengers #yandere bucky barnes #request

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lavenderchqn · 19 hours ago

Note

Hello!! If reqs are still open may I ask for an enamel cup of rooibos tea :'). If you're taking fic suggestions too, I've been thinking about office workers au.. or where you're both forced to go to an office party and wind up drunk!!

"AIRÉN"

synopsis — after finishing your first big project at your current workplace, you as well as your secret partner are forced to attend a party full of alcohol... and well, chaos ensues pairing — alhaitham x gn!reader warnings — mentions of alcohol, being drunk, people forcing others to drink for their own amusement notes — thank you for the request! I really enjoyed adding a secretive

Keeping a secret can be gruelling, not to mention keeping a relationship undercover when it is clearly against the rules of the workplace.

You sigh, dotting the last sentence of the report you had been writing to finish the biggest project you’d ever taken since starting to work at this job. You can barely keep your eyes open, having spent over four hours just on the damned thing.

Your fingers ache from typing, and your brain feels like mush, but at least it’s done. You lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head as you glance at the clock on your desk — 1:47 p.m. Everyone else had long gone to have lunch, leaving the office in eerie silence, save for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights.

You’re muttering to yourself, trying to figure out what’s the next thing you ought to do. Well, sending the report would be the wisest thing to do, followed by having some food. And yet, despite having opened the platform, for some reason you seem to hesitate to forward the files.

This project had been something of a breakthrough of yours. You’ve grown quite attached to the idea of it, as well as to all the people involved with it. Letting it go like that… makes you feel like you’ve lost a part of yourself.

“Done.” Out of nowhere, Alhaitham comes over to send the report to your place, causing you quite the scare. The bloody man, who not only was the one you’ve been in a relationship with for the past few months but also the complete opposite in terms of work ethics.

Ever since you could remember, you had always put so much effort into everything you did — school, work, hobbies… Staying to work overtime was basically second nature to you by this point. How on earth did you end up with a guy who’s out of the office the second clock strikes 5 o’clock.

A notification ping is what gets your focus back in order, your partner still hunched over your chair. Everyone in the office has now been notified of your accomplishment.

“Good job on that, [Y/N],” Alhaitham says, putting your laptop in sleep mode. “Time for lunch.” He says, straightening his back and offering his hand to help you stand.

You blink up at him, still a little stunned by his sudden appearance and the swiftness with which he took over. He has a knack for stepping in at the most unexpected times, and his calm, composed demeanour always leaves you slightly off balance.

“Could you not sneak up on me like that?” You say, placing a hand on your chest to steady your racing heart. Oh how glad you are, that the office takes the small gestures the two of you share as just being friends. You have been keeping it very lowkey, but with a person of Alhaitham’s personality, any sudden behaviour change would be noticeable.

He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but with a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. “You were so deep in thought I figured knocking would be redundant.”

“You figured wrong,” you mutter, but a small smile betrays your annoyance. Despite yourself, you’re grateful for his presence. Even if his approach is less conventional than yours, he has a way of lightening your workload — and your mood.

When you hesitate to take his hand, still thinking about the report and the massive effort behind it, he leans down slightly, his voice growing softer. “You’ve done enough for today. Give yourself a break. You deserve it.”

His words strike like a chord. You exhale a deep breath, finally taking his hand. As he helps you to your feet, you can’t help but notice how effortlessly he anchors you, both physically and emotionally.

“I can’t believe you sent it without giving me a chance to go over it one last time,” you grumble as the two of you walk towards the elevator.

Alhaitham gives you a nonchalant shrug. “If you went over it, we’d miss lunch. Besides, I know how thorough you are. There’s no way that report has a single flaw.”

You glance at him, half-suspecting him of sarcasm, but his tone is genuine. A faint warmth spreads through your chest at the single inkling of a compliment from him, and you finally allow yourself to relax for the first time in hours.

As the elevator doors slide open, you glance around to make sure no one’s nearby before stepping inside together. Although there’s not much risk in being caught at a place like this, having the security of nobody joining you is lovely.

“We ought to be back at 3 p.m.,” Alhaitham says, picking the ground floor and casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “Silence your phone.”

“Where are we going?” You ask as the elevator begins its descent.

“There’s a café down the street I’ve been meaning to try. Quiet, good food, not too crowded. Since we’re thirty minutes late to lunch there’s going to be even fewer people.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Since when do you scout out lunch spots?”

His lips quick into a faint smirk. “Since I started dating someone who forgets to eat whenever working on a big project.”

Your cheeks warm at his remark, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Well, I hope it’s as good as you say.”

After a short while, you’ve reached your destination — the ground floor. The elevator dings and the doors open.

The two of you barely leave the elevator when all you can hear is the hurried steps of somebody getting close to you.

“[Y/N],” Your manager comes up to you, a cheerful smile across his face. “Congratulations on finishing the project!”

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. Out of instinct, you step slightly away from Alhaitham, creating a safe distance between the two of you. It’s a subtle movement, but you know your partner doesn’t miss it. It’s almost as if his perception of your behaviour doubles in power whenever at work.

“Thank you,” You reply, managing a polite despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. “It was a team effort.”

“Nonsense!” Your manager exclaims, clapping you lightly on the shoulder. “You’d led this project beautifully. I’ve already forwarded your report to the higher-ups. They are going to be very impressed with your work.”

“That’s great to hear.” You say though you feel like you’re barely holding onto your professional facade. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Alhaitham’s lips twitch, as though he’s holding back a smirk at your discomfort.

Your manager continues, oblivious to the underlying tension. “From what I’ve heard, a party is going to be held to celebrate the accomplishment. Be sure to attend it, you had played the first fiddle, after all.”

At the single mention of a work event, your chest tightens. You’re probably the second to last person who would show up to one of those — only being after Alhaitham.

“It’s going to be mandatory.” The manager says, already predicting your decline of the offer. “The official note will probably be sent out by the end of the day. The same goes for you, Alhaitham.” The male looks at your partner with a sharp eye. Alhaitham, on the other hand, only rolls his eyes already tired at what’s about to come.

With that, you’re left to your devices. Food first, complaining about a mandatory “team-bonding” party second… After all, you both know it’s only a means for the higher-ups to gather costs for tax returns and get drunk, nothing more, nothing less.

You haven’t even entered the venue yet and you already feel lightheaded at the overwhelming stench of alcohol in the air. It’s far too for your liking, and you barely got here.

“The lady of the hour!~” Nilou, the only sane human resources lady as well as the person you would’ve considered your second work bestie at the company, greets you the second you enter the room with a cheerful smile on her face. “Congratulations on your project, dearie.”

She envelops you in a warm hug, her genuine excitement so infectious that it momentarily dissipates your dread about the evening. Despite the suffocating air of the venue, her cheerful presence feels like a breath of fresh air.

“Thanks, Nilou,” You say, managing a small smile. “I didn’t really have a choice but to show up, though.”

She chuckles, pulling back to look at you. “I figured as much. But hey, at least there’s free food and a chance to celebrate your hard work. You deserve it.”

You glance over her shoulder, scanning the room for familiar faces. Sure enough, there’s your manager already drunk off his mind and in a discussion with some other department head, as well as a few clusters of employees milling about, drinks in hand. Thankfully, there’s no sign of Alhaitham just yet. He’ll likely be just on time because he doesn’t get paid to show up earlier.

Unfortunately, you manage to lock eyes with somebody near the bar and they’re already headed your way to offer you a welcome drink.

“Bottoms up, [Y/N].” The person says, showing a glass into your palm and getting everyone present to look at you. Speak about being put on the spot… and a health code violation. You just hope Nilou has taken note of the person who offered you the drink.

There’s a slight hesitation in your hand. From what you can gauge, what you’ve been given is an entire glass of rectified spirit — arguably the strongest alcoholic beverage out there. You just hope they won’t be idiotic enough to force-feed you these after this one.

With some drunkards posing as your coworkers egging you on, you drown the glass in one go, feeling nauseous as it goes down your throat. You will absolutely be regretting that the second you get home. You almost take a stumble, but Nilou is right there to help you steady your body and lead you to have a seat.

“Please—“ You hiccup, getting tipsy off the singular glass already. “Give that person a stern talk…”

Nilou’s face twists into a mix of concern and irritation. She helps you settle onto a nearby chair, patting your back gently. “I’ve got you covered.” She says, her voice firm. “Don’t worry about them. That was unacceptable and completely uncalled for.”

Your head feels like it’s spinning, the potent alcohol hitting your system much faster than you anticipated. You try to focus on breathing, hoping to steady yourself before things get worse. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Nilou storming off toward the offender, steps strict and purposeful and her expression unreadable.

A few moments later, a familiar voice breaks through the haze. “It’s only six p.m. and you’re already drunk?”

You glance to see Alhaitham standing over you, his hands crossed and an almost imperceptible crease of concern on his otherwise stoic face. For once in his life, he decided to push his hair back and dress in a grey suit. Oh fuck, he’s hot.

“You’re late.” You mumble, your words slurring slightly as you rest your head on your hand. “Wasn’t there to save me…”

He quirks an eyebrow, crouching down to your level. “What happened?” He says, his tone unexpectedly soft. You just hope your tipsy state is not misreading his actions.

“Someone thought it’d be hilarious to offer her a glass of a strong spirit,” Nilou interjects as she returns, her irritation still simmering. She gestures towards the culprit, who now looks sheepish under the sharp glare of Nilou’s superiors. “Is there any possibility you’d be able to look after [Y/N] tonight, Alhaitham?” Nilou asks, taking a pause before adding. “I’m going to be on the lookout for that comedian in specific.”

Alhaitham sighs, nodding. “Leave it to me, I suppose.” He says curtly.

“Thank you so much!” Nilou smiles at his sacrifice, promising in her mind to stand behind the male tremendously in case HR is ever on his case.

Not leaving immediately after finding out you were drunk was the biggest mistake Alhaitham had made today. Somewhere along the way he also got tipsy… despite being the designated driver of tonight’s escapade, resulting in him having to witness your drunken antics with a mild headache. The way he had to stoop that low as to message Kaveh to get over to pick the two of you up, was unbelievable.

“You knoww…” You start, leaning against him. “You’re so mean to everyone but me…” Archons above, you are going at this again? It was around the third time you decided to take pride in being the sole worker who Alhaitham didn’t actively despise.

Alhaitham groans inwardly, his tipsy state making your slurred words seem both endearing and annoying. He supports you as you cling to his arm, your weight pressing against him, making it impossible to avoid your proximity.

“You’re exaggerating,” he mutters, his voice low and almost monotone despite the slight flush on his cheeks. “I’m mean to you too, silly.”

“You aren’t!” You insist, poking his chest weakly. “You’re all stoic and scary… but with me, you’re… kinda sweet. Not to mention… you look fucking hot in grey.”

His lips twitch, almost forming a smirk, but he quickly composes himself. “Maybe you’re half annoying, ever thought about that?”

You gasp, your drunken eyes widening as if he’d just confessed the world’s greatest secret. “Oh my god, you do like me more than anyone else!”

The volume of your declaration turns a few heads, and Alhaitham instinctively glances around, his hand gently gripping your waist to steady you and keep you from attracting further attention. “Lower your voice,” He says, his tone firm despite being full of worry.

By some sheer miracle, he makes eye contact with Nilou, who smiles awkwardly. She is fully aware you’re less than in your fullest brain space. Although, from Alhaitham’s point of view, she is not aware of your relationship… he trusts her in not reporting whatever you’re doing to the higher-ups.

Tilting her head in confusion, the redhead joins the two of you, worried for your state.

“Maybe it’s best you take her home now?” She asks, crouching slightly to check your face. “I’m worried she’ll get even more unhinged.”

Alhaitham nods, his hand steady on your waist. “That’s the wisest decision. I appreciate the help, Nilou.” He shifts his weight, ready to guide you out of the venue.

“Good luck,” Nilou says with a knowing smile. “If you need any help, just call me.”

Once outside, the crisp night air hits you like a splash of cold water, slightly sobering you up but not enough to stop your drunken musings. Alhaitham leads you to the car he definitely shouldn’t be driving tonight, opening the passenger door for you.

“Get in,” He orders gently.

You hesitate, squinting up at him. “But you drank too. Who’s driving? You can’t drive. That’s dangerous.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Give it a minute. Just get in the car, alright?”

Satisfied with his answer, you slump into the seat, leaning your head back and mumbling something unintelligible about being betrayed by other coworkers. You barely even notice when your words begin to slur together, not due to alcohol in your body, but from sheer exhaustion.

“—cking hell,” A curse is what ultimately wakes you up from the lovely nap you were having. “This is the last time that group of pillocks gets me out to go anywhere.”

“Pillock?” A higher voice questions. “Can’t believe some alcohol turns you into an old man!… Well, you do have the hair for it.”

“Kaveh.”

“So-Sorry!”

Ah. So the driver must’ve been Kaveh — Alhaitham’s unrecognised best friend as well as an architect you’ve grown to become friends yourself. You decide against saying anything, your brain is far too foggy to even make coherent sentences. You’re pretty certain you’re already having the first symptoms of a hangover.

And tomorrow? Well, you will be joined by your partner in groaning about a massive headache, luckily aided by Kaveh’s good heart… and multiple glasses of water.

date of posting — december 27th 2024

#lavv.writes #lavv.teaparty #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin oneshots #genshin fanfic #kinich x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you

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julzrulz · 1 day ago

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Midoriya learns urinal etiquette

˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙

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NSFW WARNING 18+

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LMAOOOO IVE BEEN GONE FOR 3 YEARS missed yall<33

Shessss backkkkkkkkk -sexy red

Anyway how is everyone? How’s tumblr doing? we still give af abt mha smut?

I hope y’all do bc I’m coming back to all my drafts and I had some good stuff!! this one’s kinda funnn! Lmk how we feel abt it ofc apologies for any spelling and grammar errors she’s rusty as hell

Male bodied reader!! I asked for a dick for Christmas and didn’t get one sad face emoji

Anyway, following deku to the bathroom and giving him a “hand” at the urinal oops

Rating: R (Restricted, 18 and Up permitted, sexual content)

Pairings: Sub! Deku x Dom! Masc! Reader

CW: Smut, handjob (character recieveing), lowkey piss (?) sorry not sorry, publicish, kinda pushy reader but deku likes it, pet names, no aftercare, humiliation

Notes: Gender neutral pronouns, male bodied reader, characters aged up to 3rd years 18+

You and izuku have been hooking up for quite a while now and of course his only ask from you when you guys started this whole thing was to not tell anyone. Bummer. You would love nothing more than for the entire school to see just what you do to the popular, shy, but strong third year.

The way you can make him come so undone beneath you, how much of a whimpering mess he can be. It’s quite beautiful really. He’s not so shy when he’s with you, if he was you wouldn’t have discovered just how flexible this boy was— you’re thoughts are broken when Aizawa finally shuts off that stupid hero documentary that was playing for the last hour. It supposedly was very important but you’ve been staring at a particular greenette the entire time.

He must’ve been the biggest fan of the doc Aizawa played, in fact, he was probably the only one who paid attention. You couldn’t stop watching how his feet were bouncing underneath his desk— cute, was he doing that because he was excited from the documentary? Usually you’re the only one able to get him that excited. No… he’s also hunched over and alittle squirmy? You can see how he’s grabbing at the desk too… weird what’s he thinking right now?.

Izuku’s hand shoots straight up as soon as there’s a break in Aizawa’s recap about the film we just watched. Aizawa, in the most mono tone voice “Yes Midoryia?”

Izuku quickly asks if he can use the bathroom. Oh you get it now he must’ve been holding it the entire doc to be so desperate. It’s almost—hot.

Of course izuku is still the only person who raises his hand for this kind of thing. Aizawa has made it pretty clear as third years we can just leave to go relieve ourselves.

With a sigh and reminder that he doesn’t need to hear about it, Aizawa dismisses izuku.

You don’t normally follow izuku to the bathroom, infact you never have before. But maybe all the day dreaming you were doing during the documentary has made you quite excited. And maybe there’s a little less blood in ur head. And maybe now the room is too hot and your pants are too tight. Before you know it you’re out of ur chair and in the hallway walking to the direction of the nearest bathroom.

When you walk in you can see izuku standing at one of the urinal stalls with his back towards you. After a bit of shuffling from izuku you start to hear the sound of trickling liquid on porcelain. With a slight sigh he throws his head back— obviously quite pleased with his release. Those two movements are very familiar to you… but normally caused by a very different type of release.

One quick scan of the bathroom being dead empty and you’re walking up to izuku. The back of his head hits your chest and you instinctively grab his waist and pull it towards you.

“What the-mHUH?” Izuku tenses and looks all the way up to see your face peering down at him. His face is red and he shuffles slightly obviously to try and cover himself, however with his dick in his hands and the stream of piss still steady— it’s not working out for him.

“Hey” you say with a smirk, it’s funny really he’s such a strong and talented hero but he’s so small underneath you.

“I—I I’m kinda busy y/n” he says voice quiet and wavering. He sounds unsure, confused, and very very very flustered.

“Relax would you… nothing I haven’t seen before” you’re lying, kinda, you’ve very much seen every inch of him but definitely not pissing. You can feel the humiliation radiating off of him while he squirms in ur grasp. You bury you nose in his hair, intoxicating his sent. God you love that smell, your breaths become deeper and you pull his hips so his ass backs up into you.

You hear a quiet whine escape him and you let out quite the huff. He already knows you’re as stiff as a rock, for *some* reason you always are around him. But he’s definitely confused how him being at a urinal is helping this any.

You slowly grind against his ass, there are many of layers of fabric in between you too but that doesn’t seem to faze you much.

“R-really you couldn’t wait untill later… what’s coming over y-you?” He’s a stuttering babbling mess, still shuffling in place and swapping glances between you, his dick sitting heavy in his hands and the bathroom door. He’s nervous about being so public— this is definitely a strange view, he wouldn’t be able to explain it away at all. And embarrassed is an understatement, this shy green haired boy definitely never wanted to see the day he’s watched so intensely while pissing and to make it worse he can’t seem to stop. He had to go so so bad.

He couldn’t be more humiliated while ur eyes seemed to be locked on him relieving himself. Your dick is twitching in your pants seeing how humiliated the boy is, face red and eyes wet and beaty.

His whirthing and whining comes to a screeching hault and he lets out a sharp gasp when your hand slowly warps around his.

“Y/n whyyy— p-please not now” izuku whines under his breath, eyes darting to the bathroom door. His dick is hot and firm from the strength of his stream. This you can confidently say you’ve never done before.

There’s no one there, you know there will be no one there, it’s the middle of class and around this stressful time of year people who have any sense stay in their seat.

After what seems like an eternity his stream starts to trickle to a stop. Both of your breaths are heavy and you can tell izuku is trying very hard to distract himself from your hand wrapped around his. That and the grinding you’re doing from behind.

“Okay w-we can go now” He’s quick to try to let go but you react by griping him tighter.

“-ngh” it’s hard to keep his mind off anything now with the grip you have on him. You can feel his legs get weak. With a particular hard thrust from you he stumbles forward, using both his hands to grip to the sides of the urinal to stop him from falling anymore forward. With one of your hands still tight on the hip the other starts to make teasing touches at his growing erection.

You give him a little squeeze and a drop of urine leaks out from his slit. You’re quick to use that little moisture while you slowly start to fist his length. It’s not perfect but you know it won’t be long until he leaks enough pre to replace it.

“Ugh- f-ffuck y/n” the boy whimpers hands still glued at opposite ends of the urinal. His slightly bent over position isn’t helping him any if he wants to stop, your rock hard length still grinding against his clothed ass.

“Y/n I wanna go back to class please” his voice is wavering it’s so cute he’s trying so hard to be quiet. “W-what if someon-nnghh walks in”

“Shhh izuku relax baby” you plant open mouthed kisses all over the back of his neck, your grinding not stopping for a second and neither is your pumping. The pet name makes his face red. You speed up the pace and it pulls a loud gasp from izuku.

“Ff-fughh mmhf” your pace is ruthless and the poor boy is practically shaking underneath you. The hand on his hip reaches up and pulls hard on his hair throwing his head back. His mouth is hung open pouring out all sorts of desperate noises. Your mouth finally leaves his neck and you lick a stripe up to his ear.

“Yea, you like that don’t you?” your deep raspy voice whispers in his ear in between grunts.

“Hhgff” is all izuku makes out. You give him a squeeze and he squeaks in response.

“Use your words” your breath is hot on izukus neck and it’s almost dizzying to the boy beneath you.

“Y-yes yes I like it nghh” izuku is almost drooling, your pace is ruthless, hand wet and sticky from his precum. You’re boxing him into the little stall, so big around him that no one would even notice he was here if they did walk in.

“And you wanted to go back to class… pft— you’re so easy izuku” you taunt. Izuku’s eyes close head still thrown back looking up at you. Sweat starts to form on the boys forehead. You let go of his green locs and slip ur arm underneath his UA uniform shirt.

“I bet you would’ve just let anyone come up behind you huh?” Your fingers trace up his torso until you meet his small hard nipples, pinching and playing with them between your fingers. He whines at both your comment and action. You’re special to him, you know that. There’s no way no one is as close to this boy as you are even if no body but the two of you know it.

He’s practically mewling now, desperate moans, gasps, and whines progressively getting louder filling this empty bathroom. You’re so good to him. So rough at just the right times. You’ve mastered his body and know exactly how to play within his limits.

“Y/n— nghh I- you feel so good oh god” Izuku’s head falls forward leaning against the cold bathroom tiled wall. His grip never wavering from the sides of the urinal below him fearing his knees might give out.

“You gonna cum baby? Huh? Aren’t you supposed to be in class… Tsk tsk” you can help your teasing “Aizawa is probably so confused where such a good student has been for the last 10 minutes” izuku responds with a drawn out whine… he loves when you call him that.

“I- oh oh shit y/n— nghhhh mph I’m-” with a long and loud drawn out moan Izuku’s whole body shakes and convulses.

Izuku cums and cums hard splurting all over the porcelain urinal beneath him. You’re careful to angle his dick towards it to not leave any evidence on his clothing.

His dick twitches sporadically as you continue to pump his length, god he’s cumming so much. You ring a few careful circles around his nipple before releasing it and tracing your hand back down to his hip. Pumping the last of Izuku’s cum from his abused dick you let go of him.

Izuku lets out a sharp inhale when your hand leaves him, only for it to be silenced when you bring your hand towards his mouth. He knows what that means, you’ve trained him well and he’s so good for you.

He starts to slowly lick at your hand and fingers cleaning it as good as he can.

You look down at your own length straining against your pants against Izuku’s clothed behind. With a small grind of your hips you let out a strained grunt.

“Y-y/n?” You can hear the nervousness in his voice you know what he’s thinking, are you sure more?… No, not now, you both have already been here long enough.

“Just wait until tonight” you say with a huff and a sly tone to your voice. You’re gonna ruin him for riling you up. Removing your hands and taking a step back from the smaller boy. With a swift spank on his ass you turn and walk out of the bathroom. Izuku gasps with the force of your hand and whimpers at the loss of your warmth, still coming down from his high.

A quick fix of your stiff manhood makes your raging boner less obvious as you walk back to class. Leaving a sweaty and spent izuku huffing and puffing in the urinal stall, feeling so blissed out and used.

*flush <3*

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲!

( ˘ ³˘)♥

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changbinsboobs · 2 days ago

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Ok nvm starting the social media series, and i am starting with Changbin deal with it😤 i haven't been feeling the spark with my cards again for a few days and wanted to reignite it by doing a reading i myself have been looking forward to a lot, tho now i don't think that was that good of an idea cuz i didn't even finish it cuz my man tortured me again for over an hour with his long ass reading and now im traumatized.

Anyways, i don't think it would be any other way with the other members too cuz its just TOOO MANY question, and when theres more than one apps, it gets a bit difficult, so yeah i'll either do app by app for each memeber and just rotate them or...idk ill see if the others take that long and'll think about how im gonna do it.

Skz Social Media Series: Changbin -> Tiktok

How often does he check it?

- Routinely. Im seeing him checking it quite a lot throughout the day out of habit. Lots of time.

How long does he stay on it?

- Quite a while. Its difficult getting him off of it as it really grabs and holds onto his attention. Seems a bit addicting.

When/why does he reach out to it?

- The pregnant empress shows up again as the ABSOLUTE MUSST for every changbin reading i do. I think he goes on tiktok whenever he feels inspiration and wants to double it, whenever he wants to get inspired or whenever he feels some sort of insufficience. Like when he feels lonely, when he feels unfulfilled, when something doesn't go the way he wants etc.

- On the other hand, why he goes on it is because its very authentic and creative. He likes the unpolished raw ideas and portrayal of people where u can really just..get inspired:)

Does he fall victim to doomsscrolling? When?

- The potential definitely is there but he's fighting against it and i think its going well. So i don't see him spending actual hours on it. I do see him tho, opening tiktok out of habit just to check and instead of watching 1 or 2 videos he watches 5.

Does he have people he sends videos back and forth with?

- Yes quite a lot actually i think this is one of his fav parts about tiktok. He does that with friends and one interesting thing i picked up on is he loves doing that with crushes. He thinks its a great opportunity to get into conversation with them, keep in contact and learn more about his crushes and have the opportunity to show more of himself too. I think this may be some of his go to methods keeping close to a crush without making it obvious he's crushing on them. I think overtime he has become very guarded with love, crushes and all and i don't think he's the type to instantly confess or actively pursue or seek out a relationship. Doesn't change the fact that he's still crushing tho, so thats a good, innocent way for him to feed his heart while still keeping a safe distance. When it comes to regular friends or guy friends - ok wait...this part is very confusing to be honest so don't take this with a grain of salt take it wth whole spoon of salt. I think most of his friends he sends videos back and forth with are actually female friends, cuz whenever i specifically look for guyfriends really dark cards like the tower or 7 of swords come out, or like nonchalant ones like the 4os, but once i ask about female friends its all cups and rainbows and all. So my take on this is with female friends he's way more active on there, probably keeping streaks and all😂 cuz the content they share between each other is just much more potent and entertaining and resonates with him much more, rather than with his male friends i think he doesn't really enjoy or care that much the content they send him, he can't really send them mich content either cuz they wouldn't understand or like it so the exchange between him and his male friends isn't very pleasant for him, contrary to his female friends.

Whats the content he consumes on there?

(family & friends, memes, stay up to date with trends & information, spying on people of interest, spying on stay, looking for new people (friends, hookups, networking), researching information or thirsttraps (soft porn/ porn)

- Various: spirituality & healing

- Finance & getting rich

- Divine love like soulmates, manifesting live, dating tips, healing traumas in connection to that stuff, healing & learning about attachements etc. also seeing some psychology.

- Taking charge of your life, self development, learning to navigate life and many things at a time, preventing burnout, helpful tips for that, also with emphasis on problems like indecision, struggle to letting go, procrastination.

- Motivational videos

- Baby videos / parenting videos

- Videos of couples that live together or have been together for a long while.

- Transformational videos of people that have significantly changed something in their life, be it physique, financial status, countries, identity etc.

His main topics of interest on the platform?

- Self development

- Getting rich(er)

- Setting boundaries and protecting urself

- Success, happiness & balance in life

- Inner child healing

- Motivation

- (Quite surprised there was nothing about live here in the cards, considering i got like 6-8 love cards in the previous answer, that some of them i didn't even read) (still even if i didn't get it in the cards here, love may not be one of his main topic of interest, like the reason he opens the app, but its definitely a reason he stays on it and keeps coming back as love is definitely a type of content he consumes in GREAT amounts!!!

Does he consume content in Korean, English or both?

-both (yk im really curious seeing which types if content he watches in english and which in korean but I've been doing this reading for over an hour and im so exhausted😭😭😭😭) (if ur interested send a separate ask and ill do it later)

His amount of active engagement (writing comments etc

- Very little to none. He just thinks it in his head, without writing anything or he just sends it to his friends with his comment/opinion.

Since when and why he got that app?

- Don't have a time but he did because of a crush & actually stayed because it was really entertaining indeed and informative on top of that. Only time clue im getting that its been for years. And im hearing and seeing for for the whole time while shuffling cards. Didn't get a confirmation on that tho i myself believe it could be right since that would mean he started using it actively in 2020 which if im not mistaken was the rise of tiktok, and also energetically speaking i feel like this was a time of change for changbin too, which matches the cards i got for him. So take this with a whole bucket of salt - 7 think he may be using tiktok actively since around 2020.

Does he have certain creators he really enjoys and follows religiously? (Can't see which specific creator it is unless y'all already have speculations and ask me for specific people, then i can check)

- yes a man teaching about success, finance, self development etc.

- A woman teaching about breakups, relationships, harnessing ur power, attracting & manifesting a SP or ur soulmate or the right person for u

- Another woman (of color) teaching about shadow work & spirituality overall, about divine creation & manifesting and ugh idk how to describe it. Like she talks about taking whats special in you, teaching you to harness it, remove obstacles, see urself for who u are and accept urself and then using this power u have to create magic in the world through ur unique spark & shine & creativity. I think she really helps motivate him when in a slum or writers block or something.

#skz #stray kids #kpop #seo changbin #skz tarot #stray kids tarot #kpop tarot #skz headcanons #skz imagines #skz reactions #changbin tarot

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