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dissapointu · 9 hours ago

Note

Hello, I wanted to ask you a little drabble with all the arcane characters.

Like how they fell in love with reader ( like what captured their attention etc)

It would be pretty cool in my opinion.

Have a wonderful day\night.

Aaaugh, I made of made this a bit long-(really long, that was sarcasm) I'm splitting it into two portions

Jinx-

Jinx didn’t know what to make of you at first. You weren’t loud or flashy like the people she was used to dealing with. You weren’t trying to prove anything, and yet, there was something about you that screamed different.

She first noticed it when you didn’t flinch at one of her explosions—not the way most people did, anyway. The boom had rattled the room, shaking dust from the rafters, and yet, there you were, brushing soot from your shirt like it was just another Tuesday.

“Nice touch with the blue sparks,” you’d said, nodding at her latest contraption. “Adds flair.”

Flair? Most people would’ve called it destruction. Most people would’ve screamed or run. But you? You tilted your head, eyes bright, genuinely impressed, and for a moment, Jinx was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t just that you didn’t fear her; it was the way you saw her. You noticed the little things—the care she put into her work, the way she tinkered endlessly to perfect her machines. While others saw chaos, you saw art, and for someone like Jinx, that was everything.

The next time she saw you, it was intentional. She didn’t need to bring you a gadget she’d been working on—it wasn’t even finished—but she wanted to see how you’d react. Sure enough, you examined it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, pointing out details she hadn’t realized anyone else would notice.

“This is genius,” you murmured, tracing a finger along a carved design she’d barely remembered adding. “You really think through every detail, don’t you?”

Her heart did something weird then, like skipping a beat but more… explosive.

From there, it snowballed. You became her favorite person to show her creations to, the only one she trusted to see her work before it was ready. You never judged, never laughed when something misfired—just smiled and asked how you could help.

And Jinx? She realized she’d fallen for you one day when she caught herself trying to impress you. The realization hit her like a grenade: she didn’t just want you to like her inventions—she wanted you to like her.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” she said one night, leaning against her workbench, tools scattered around her. Her voice was softer than usual, almost unsure. “Most people don’t get me, but… you do.”

You’d just smiled, that easy, genuine smile that had hooked her from the start. “That’s because you’re worth getting.”

And just like that, Jinx knew there was no going back.

Vi –

Vi wasn’t looking for anyone. She didn’t have time for soft moments, not with everything she had on her plate. But then you came along, and she couldn’t help but notice how you carried yourself—steady, calm, unshakable.

The first time she really noticed you, it wasn’t some grand, sweeping moment. It was quiet. You were helping some kids in the Lanes patch up a rickety swing they used to pass the time. Nothing fancy, just you, a coil of rope, and that determined look in your eyes.

She hadn’t meant to stop and watch, but something about you drew her in. Maybe it was the way you didn’t hesitate to get your hands dirty or how the kids laughed around you, their faces lighting up despite everything the Lanes threw at them.

“You’re good with them,” she said after working up the nerve to approach you, trying to sound casual.

You glanced up at her, wiping sweat from your brow, and gave her a smile that hit her like a sucker punch. “Someone’s gotta be. They deserve better than this, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t just your words that stuck with her—it was the way you said them. Like you meant it. Like you actually believed in something better, even when the world gave you every reason not to.

From then on, Vi found herself noticing you everywhere. The way you stepped up when others hesitated. The way you didn’t back down, even when things got messy. You had this quiet strength about you, the kind that didn’t demand attention but earned it anyway.

She started finding excuses to stick around—helping with repairs, walking the kids home, sparring with you in the courtyard when the opportunity came up. And each time, she found herself drawn to you a little more.

“You’re somethin’ else,” she admitted one night, sitting beside you on a crumbling wall, the city’s broken skyline stretching out before you.

You raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. “That so?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck, uncharacteristically shy. “Most people would’ve given up on this place a long time ago, but not you. You stick it out, no matter how hard it gets.”

You shrugged, your gaze softening as you looked at her. “Same could be said about you, Vi.”

That was the moment it hit her—like a punch she didn’t see coming. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t ignore.

She fell for you in pieces, each small moment stacking up until it all clicked. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic confessions. It was the way you fit—like you were exactly what she didn’t know she was missing.

And when she finally worked up the courage to tell you, your answer came with that same steady smile that had captivated her from the start.

“Figured it out, huh?” you teased, and she rolled her eyes, though her grin gave her away.

Yeah, she figured it out. And she wasn’t letting you go.

Sevika-

Sevika didn’t believe in love. In the Lanes, it wasn’t something people had the luxury of chasing. Survival came first, and attachments were just liabilities waiting to stab you in the back.

But you were… different.

The first time she noticed you, it wasn’t because you were trying to catch her attention. You were too busy holding your own, stepping into a dispute between two gang members over stolen supplies. She’d leaned back in the corner of the Last Drop, watching the chaos unfold, ready to step in if things got messy.

But then you surprised her.

You didn’t raise your voice or threaten anyone. Instead, you stood tall, calm as you defused the tension with a few sharp words and an unflinching glare. You had this presence, like you weren’t afraid of anyone in the room—not even her.

“Bold move,” Sevika had said when you approached the bar afterward, ordering a drink like you hadn’t just stared down two brutes twice your size.

You glanced at her, your lips quirking into a small smirk. “Someone’s gotta keep things from falling apart.”

That was the moment she started paying attention. You didn’t just survive in the Lanes—you thrived. You didn’t let the weight of the place crush you like it did everyone else. And more than that, you cared. Not in some naive, starry-eyed way, but in a way that made you fight tooth and nail for the people who couldn’t fight for themselves.

It pissed her off at first. The way you carried yourself like you weren’t afraid of the darkness around you. She thought it was reckless, stupid even. But the more she watched, the more she realized it wasn’t recklessness. It was conviction.

You weren’t scared of getting your hands dirty, but you never lost sight of what mattered to you. That’s what got under her skin, what kept her coming back to the same barstool night after night, just to see what you’d do next.

She started finding reasons to stick around. Sometimes it was to share a drink, other times to offer backup when things got rough. You never asked for her help, but you didn’t push her away either, and that intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

One night, after a particularly close call with one of Silco’s rivals, you patched up a cut on her arm, your hands steady as you worked.

“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good,” she muttered, watching you through half-lidded eyes.

You chuckled, your touch gentle as you tied off the bandage. “Takes one to know one.”

It was such a simple moment, but it stayed with her. The way you looked at her—not like she was some feared enforcer, but like she was just… Sevika. It wasn’t something she was used to, and it scared her as much as it thrilled her.

Over time, she realized she was looking for you in every crowd, waiting for the nights you’d sit beside her and trade sharp banter over a drink. She fell for you quietly, begrudgingly, like it snuck up on her before she could stop it.

And when she finally admitted it—to herself, to you—it wasn’t some grand confession. It was a gruff, almost reluctant, “You mean more to me than you should.”

Your response? That same infuriating, endearing smirk. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

Sevika huffed a laugh, shaking her head, but the truth was, she didn’t mind. Because for once, letting someone in didn’t feel like a weakness. It felt like strength.

Silco -

Silco had always been a man of control, ambition, and sharp edges. In the underbelly of Zaun, survival demanded nothing less. Trust was currency, and affection? A distraction. He had long since accepted that power was the only thing worth chasing.

But then you appeared.

You weren’t loud or showy, not one of those people clawing for his attention. No, you worked quietly, efficiently, in the background of the chaos he ruled. You were just another piece in his intricate machine at first—just another person serving a purpose.

What caught his attention first was your unyielding patience. Where others in the Lanes were frantic, desperate to prove their worth, you moved with a calm certainty, like you weren’t afraid of the storm around you. You fixed what was broken—tools, machines, even people—without asking for anything in return.

One night, you’d been tending to one of his injured men after a skirmish, your hands steady as you stitched him up in the dim light of the hideout. Silco watched from the shadows, curious. The man hissed in pain, and you responded with a soft laugh.

“Hold still, or I’ll sew you up crooked,” you teased, your tone warm but firm.

It wasn’t the words that struck him—it was the way you carried yourself. There was no fear in your voice, no need to prove yourself to anyone. You didn’t care about earning his favor or gaining power. You just… were.

For someone like Silco, who thrived on manipulation and control, it was unnerving. People were supposed to want something from him. But you? You treated him like a man, not a king.

It wasn’t long before he started seeking you out. At first, it was subtle. A lingering glance as he passed through the room, a quiet question about your work. You always answered him honestly, without flinching under his piercing gaze, and it left him unsettled in a way he couldn’t quite name.

One evening, after a particularly brutal day, he found you sitting by the docks, staring out at the toxic waters of Zaun. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly at the sight of you, though he didn’t understand why.

“You should be careful out here,” he said, his voice low as he stepped closer.

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling faintly. “And miss the chance to breathe? I think I’ll take my chances.”

It was such a simple thing, but it stayed with him. In a world that demanded constant vigilance, you allowed yourself to simply exist. It was a quiet defiance, one that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

Over time, you became a constant presence in his life, slipping through the cracks of his carefully constructed walls. It wasn’t grand gestures or impassioned declarations that made him fall for you. It was the quiet moments—the way you never cowered under his gaze, the way you challenged him without hostility, the way you saw him for more than his scars.

One night, as the two of you shared a rare moment of silence in his office, he finally allowed himself to admit what he’d been feeling.

“You’re dangerous,” he said, his voice soft, almost amused.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Dangerous? To you?”

He smirked, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve managed to do what no one else has.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’ve made me want something I didn’t think I needed.”

Your smile widened, warm and unguarded, and for once, Silco didn’t feel the need to look away.

In you, he found something unexpected: a quiet kind of strength, the kind that didn’t demand attention but commanded respect. And for a man who had spent his life fighting for control, letting himself fall for you felt like the ultimate rebellion.

Vander -

Vander wasn’t a man who fell in love easily. His life had been shaped by too much loss, too much responsibility. The people of the Lanes leaned on him, and he carried their weight with quiet strength. Love, to him, felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford.

But then, there was you.

It wasn’t some grand moment that captured his attention—it was the small, steady things. The way you moved through the chaos of the Last Drop, keeping the peace in your own quiet way. The way you never demanded his time but somehow always knew when he needed someone to sit beside him in silence.

What struck him first was your kindness—not the soft, fragile kind, but the sort that had edges. You didn’t let people walk over you, but you never hesitated to offer a hand to someone in need. In a place like Zaun, where survival often demanded selfishness, you were a rarity.

He noticed it one night when a brawl broke out in the bar. Two rowdy patrons had nearly overturned a table, and before Vander could step in, you were already there. You didn’t raise your voice or throw a punch. Instead, you placed a firm hand on one of their shoulders, your calm, measured tone cutting through the tension.

“Save it for the street, boys. We don’t spill blood where we share drinks.”

To his surprise, they listened. Vander couldn’t help but chuckle as they slunk off, muttering apologies.

“Got a way with people,” he said later, handing you a drink as thanks.

You shrugged, offering a small smile. “Just trying to keep things from falling apart.”

Those words stayed with him. It was how you carried yourself—like you were always holding the pieces together, not because you had to, but because you chose to.

Over time, he started finding excuses to be near you. A quick conversation here, a shared drink there. You had a way of making him feel… lighter. Like he could let go of the weight he carried, even if just for a moment.

It wasn’t until one quiet evening, after the bar had emptied, that he realized how deeply you’d settled into his heart. You were sitting on one of the tables, cleaning up a spill, humming a tune under your breath. The soft glow of the lanterns lit up your face, and for a moment, Vander just… watched.

“You’re staring,” you said, not looking up.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Caught me.”

You glanced at him then, your smile warm and teasing. “What’s on your mind, big guy?”

He hesitated, uncharacteristically unsure. But then, he decided to just say it—Vander was never one for dancing around the truth.

“You. The way you care about this place. The people. Me.” He exhaled, leaning against the bar. “Never thought I’d find someone like you in all this.”

Your eyes softened, and you set down the rag in your hands, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased gently. “Took you long enough to notice me.”

He laughed then, a deep, rumbling sound that made your chest warm. “Oh, I noticed. Took me a bit longer to admit it.”

And when you reached up, resting a hand against his face, he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for just a moment. In you, he found something he hadn’t realized he needed—a steady flame in the chaos of the Lanes.

Ekko -

Ekko didn’t believe in distractions. The Firelights needed him, the Lanes needed him. His days were spent fixing the mess left behind by Piltover’s greed and Silco’s reign. He had no time for anything else—least of all love.

But you? You didn’t give him much of a choice.

It wasn’t a single moment that caught his attention. It was a collection of them, like the pieces of a clock coming together. He first noticed the way you moved—quick and deliberate, like you belonged to the rhythm of the chaos around you. No hesitation, no wasted motion. Whether you were patching up one of the Firelights after a mission or organizing supplies in the hideout, you carried yourself with a quiet confidence that made it impossible for him not to watch.

What hooked him, though, was your laughter. The first time he heard it, he froze. It had been after a particularly rough raid. Everyone was tense, the weight of the day pressing down on their shoulders. And then you cracked some joke—stupid, honestly, but something about the way you delivered it had everyone laughing, including Ekko.

That was when he realized it: you didn’t just survive the Lanes. You thrived in them. You brought light into a place where most people only saw shadows.

It started small—an extra second spent talking to you, a lingering glance when he thought you weren’t looking. He’d catch himself gravitating toward you without even meaning to, drawn to the way you lit up a room with just your presence.

But it wasn’t until one night, long after the others had gone to sleep, that he truly understood how deep you’d gotten under his skin. You were sitting by the glow of a makeshift lantern, tinkering with some piece of tech you’d salvaged. The light cast shadows across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the focus in your eyes.

“Burning the midnight oil?” he asked, leaning against the doorway.

You glanced up, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Someone’s gotta keep this place running.”

He stepped closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “You do too much, you know that?”

“Says the guy who can barely take a break,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.” For a moment, he just stood there, watching you work. The quiet stretched between you, comfortable and warm.

“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly.

You paused, looking up at him with a tilt of your head. “Do what?”

“Care so much. About all this.” He gestured vaguely, as if to encompass the entire hideout, the Firelights, the Lanes.

Your gaze softened, and you set the piece of tech aside. “Because someone has to. And because… I believe in you, Ekko.”

The sincerity in your voice hit him like a punch to the gut. You believed in him. In a world that seemed determined to tear him down, you stood beside him, unwavering.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Guess you’re stuck with me anyway.”

That was the moment Ekko fell. Completely, irreversibly.

Jayce -

Jayce had always been drawn to brilliance. Invention, ambition, ingenuity—they were the cornerstones of what he admired in others. And yet, none of it had ever prepared him for you.

The first time he saw you, it wasn’t in a polished Piltover workshop or a grand council meeting. It was in a small, crowded market on the edge of the Undercity, where the scent of oil and metal clung to the air. You stood at a stall, bartering for scraps and materials like your life depended on it—because, as he’d later learn, it did.

What caught his attention wasn’t just your resourcefulness or the sharp wit you wielded against the vendor. It was the way your eyes lit up when you held a seemingly useless part in your hands, already envisioning the endless possibilities it could unlock.

He didn’t even mean to approach you. His curiosity had a mind of its own. “What are you going to do with that?”

You turned, a little startled, but you didn’t back down from his inquisitive gaze. Instead, you held up the twisted hunk of metal like it was a crown jewel. “Turn it into something brilliant. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

It wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. And Jayce, who had spent his life chasing impossible ideas, saw a kindred spirit in you.

From that moment, you became an enigma he couldn’t resist unraveling. Every conversation revealed new layers to your ingenuity, your resilience, your unshakable belief in making the impossible possible. And the more time he spent with you, the more he realized it wasn’t just your mind that captivated him—it was your heart.

You were unafraid to challenge him, to push him, to remind him that the world wasn’t just equations and theories but people and dreams. Your passion reignited something in him he hadn’t realized he’d lost: a love for the why, not just the how.

One evening, as the two of you sat side by side, tinkering with a device in his lab, he found himself watching you instead of the work. The way your hair caught the light, the quiet determination in your expression, the soft smile when something finally clicked into place.

“You’re staring,” you teased without looking up.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—how do you make everything seem so effortless?”

You grinned, glancing at him with that spark he’d come to love. “It’s not effortless. I just don’t let the hard parts stop me.”

In that moment, he knew he was a goner.

Jayce Talis, the golden boy of Piltover, had fallen in love with you—not because of what you could build, but because of what you built in him: a renewed faith in the beauty of dreaming big, of chasing the spark no matter where it led.

And it apparently led to you.

Viktor-

Viktor didn’t notice you at first, not in the way others might have. He was too focused on his work, his mind consumed by blueprints and equations. But you… you were patient, always there in the background, asking questions no one else dared to ask, seeing things no one else cared to notice.

It was one of those late nights in the lab when you caught his attention. He was hunched over a schematic, frustration etched into every line of his face. You, seated quietly at the far end of the room, had been watching him—though you’d never admit it aloud.

“Did you eat today?” your voice broke through the silence.

Viktor didn’t even look up. “I’m fine,” he replied, a rote answer that wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

You set down your work and crossed the room, standing just out of his peripheral vision. “Fine isn’t food, Viktor.”

When he finally looked at you, there was something in your eyes that made him pause. It wasn’t pity or condescension—two things he’d grown accustomed to. It was understanding, genuine and unyielding, as if you knew exactly what it felt like to lose yourself in something bigger.

That was the first moment he realized you were different.

It wasn’t the last.

You had a way of grounding him, of pulling him out of his own head without judgment. Your presence was quiet but powerful, a steady force that didn’t demand his attention but earned it nonetheless.

What truly captured him, though, was your mind. You didn’t just accept the world as it was; you questioned it, challenged it, sought to understand it. You weren’t afraid to debate him, to push back when you thought he was wrong, and yet you did so with a respect that made him listen.

He found himself looking forward to your late-night conversations, the way you’d linger in the lab long after everyone else had gone home. You’d ask about his work—not just the mechanics but the why behind it, the hopes and fears he buried beneath his relentless drive.

One evening, as you sketched out a rough design on a scrap of paper, Viktor caught himself smiling. Not at the drawing, though it was clever, but at you. The way you bit your lip in concentration, the furrow of your brow, the quiet hum of satisfaction when you got something just right.

“You are remarkable,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You glanced up, surprised. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, fiddling with a wrench. “Nothing. Just… your ideas. They’re… innovative.”

But it wasn’t just your ideas. It was you—the way you saw the world, the way you saw him. Not as a man constrained by limitations but as someone capable of more.

You believed in him, not just in his work, and that was something Viktor hadn’t realized he craved until you offered it so freely.

And as the days turned into weeks, then months, he realized something else: He believed in you, too.

It wasn’t some grand epiphany or dramatic moment. It was in the quiet, shared glances, the lingering touches when you handed him a tool, the way his chest felt lighter when you were near. Somewhere in the midst of late nights and whispered dreams, Viktor had fallen in love.

Not just with your mind or your presence, but with the way you made him feel—seen, understood, whole.

And for a man who’d always fought against the odds, loving you felt like the greatest invention of all.

#arcane x reader #arcane imagine #x reader #arcane headcanon #jinx arcane #arcane vi #character x reader #jinx x reader #vi arcane #arcane #silco x reader #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #silco #arcane jayce #arcane victor #victor arcane #arcane vander #vander

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spicyspiders · 1 day ago

Text

old man logan part 6

1.4k words

There's no smut in this, but it's really fluffy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

“Hey,” you said, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear, “what’d you need me to get again?” You questioned, placing the basket onto the floor. It was Logan’s turn to make dinner tonight, and he wanted to pair the pasta you had just placed into the basket with some type of fancy sauce you couldn’t remember the name of.

“Want me to just text you the name?” He asked.

Your brows lowered in confusion as you looked over the shelfs of sauce jars, hoping maybe one of them would jog your memory, “you said you hated texting.”

”This is important,” Logan answered, making you roll your eyes, “it has to be-”

”Found it! It’s the one with the old man on it, right?”

”Yes. And you got the rig-”

”The rigatoni,” you said with another roll of your eyes, “yes,” you said as you grabbed one of the jars, “hey, he kinda looks like you,” you observed, giggling after hearing the sound of Logan’s huff on the other end of the phone.

“I don’t look like the guy on the sauce jar,” he grumbled.

“I’d send you a picture, but it probably wouldn’t show that well on your dinosaur phone,” you said as you moved from the aisle to the next.

”I like my phone,” Logan said, sounding mildly offended.

“You told me you hated texting because your fingers are too big for the buttons,” you replied, deadpan, “we could get you a bigger phone that isn’t a flip phone. They actually have some really fancy touch screen ones now,” you said as you grabbed the bottle of spices Logan said early paired well with the sauce.

“Maybe I could upgrade to a different brand,” Logan responded, a smile in his words, “and then I could buy one of the holsters you like,” he teased.

You cringed just thinking of the sight, “fine, you win. I’ve got to get a few more things, then I’ll be on my way.”

”Drive safe,” Logan responded, his voice full of seriousness.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you said with a breathy laugh, “love you, bye,” you said ending the phone call as you stepped into another aisle.

It wasn’t until you were checking out that your brain caught up to what you had said, “shit,” you said, startling the cashier.

“Everything alright, sir?” She asked, a worried look in her eyes, “did you forget something?”

”No! No I- um,” your mind went blank, not even knowing how to begin to explain what had happened earlier. But actually, this poor cashier didn’t deserve to be subjugated to your blabbering mouth. You didn’t know how long it would take to even explain that you meant what you said to Logan, but you didn't want it to come out in such an unserious way.

“Just remembered something I need to do later,” you said as you fished your wallet out from your pocket.

——

All throughout dinner, you couldn’t focus on anything other than how you had ended the phone call earlier. You weren’t even able to focus on the delicious meal Logan made, the man being able to tell from the worried looks you could feel as you kept your eyes on your plate.

“Was it not good?” Logan asked after setting his fork down onto his empty plate.

“No!” Your head shooting up, “No, I mean it was great, not no, I didn’t like it,” you said quickly, hoping as you stood up and grabbed your dirty dishes that cleaning them would help you calm down. “It was great,” you said into the sink as you turned the hot water on.

“If you say so,” Logan replied, like he wasn’t convinced.

“Go relax, I’ve got this,” you said as Logan grabbed the sponge.

“You wash and I’ll dry,” Logan responded, his hip brushing yours when he walked up beside you.

Washing dishes was a quiet affair, which gave your brain the perfect opportunity to overanalyze. It made you nervous how Logan was being, save for the soft thank yous he said when you handed him a wet, clean dish.

You hoped Logan hadn’t noticed the way your hands shook each time you handed him another dish, but if he asked, you could just blame it on the weight of the pot Logan used to cook the pasta in.

“Your sink isn’t big enough for this,” you grumbled, trying to pour out the soapy water without getting it all over the counter.

“It feels like you’ve been bitching all day today,” Logan observed as you passed him the pot, “first my phone, now my sink.”

”I’m trying not to get water everywhere,” you said as you cleaned the lid that went with the pot, “unless you want me to get it all over your counter,” you said, almost tipping the water over, but not before Logan grabbed your wrist.

“You do this and I’ll bend you over this counter,” Logan said, “move,” he said, pushing the damp cloth into your chest before he manhandled you into the spot he was.

“I wasn’t actually going to do it,” you groused, snatching the clean dish Logan gave you.

You turned your neck to the side to hide your smile after seeing Logan’s glare. A few moments later, you felt Logan’s hip brush yours again as you heard his soft chuckle. Your mind, at least for a little while, was finally at ease.

——

Though it freaked you out that Logan hadn’t said anything about it, you felt another wave of affection in seeing Logan in bed. He looked comfortable and warm, a sight that you were grateful Logan let you see. He lounged under the covers, sat up against the headboard, a book in one hand, and his glasses perched upon his nose.

“What’re you reading?” You asked as you closed the bathroom door. You made your way through the dim bedroom, illuminated by the lamp beside Logan, to get in bed next to him.

“It’s about the first world war,” Logan said, not looking up from the page he was reading.

“Was that the one you were in?” You asked, a smile stretched across your lips. A laugh burst forward when Logan glanced your way with an unimpressed look. Maybe it was from exhaustion from the full day you had, or the inner turmoil in your brain and going over what you said to Logan, but the look he gave made you burst out into laughter.

Your body shook as you laid down onto his shoulder, trying to muffle the sound into the soft cotton tank top he wore. When Logan responded, you could hear the smile in his voice, “because I’m so old, right?”

You didn’t respond and instead sat up to grab the remote on the bedside table that was on your side, “you mind if I watch a little tv?” You asked once your laughter had died down.

“Just not too loud,” Logan murmured, glancing up to look at you over the top of his glasses, making you smile once more, “what?” he questioned.

You weren’t going to let yourself laugh again and instead settled yourself back down, your body curled towards Logan. You felt his hand brush your thigh under the covers as you turned the tv on, making sure to immediately make sure the volume was low.

“Fuckin’ commercials,” you groaned.

“Be patient,” Logan said humorously as he squeezed your thigh with a broad palm, “you could stand to read a book instead of watching that.”

”Once I graduate next semester, I’m never reading another book again,” not tearing your eyes away from the screen.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to begin to droop, and you gasped awake when the remote fell from your hand, “I’ve got it,” Logan said softly as he clicked the tv off.

He placed his book down on the table, followed by the remote, and then finally his glasses. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before leaning back over to turn the lamp off, the room falling into darkness.

Tiredly, you rolled onto your side, away from Logan, only having to wait a few seconds before his arms were wrapped around you.

“I do love you too, you know,” Logan said softly as his lips brushed the back of your neck.

“Yeah?” You asked into the darkness, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Wanted to tell you earlier,” Logan said, one of his hands, sneaking under your shift, “but didn’t want to say it with my mouth full of pasta,” he said, hiding his smile in the back of your neck.

”I wouldn't have minded,” you said, placing your hand on top of Logan’s through the shirt.

“Cause you love me?” He asked, rolling you over onto your back, his body hovering over yours.

Wordlessly, you pulled Logan down into a kiss, suddenly not feeling tired.

#x male reader #logan howlett x male reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x male reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett

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fanbasetwo · 2 days ago

Note

Hii love! I couldn’t tell if your asks are open or not but I wanted to request reader having their first kiss with hao </3☹️

I love your writing so much btw! 🤍

NOTE : my asks are always open but you can still check it out on the pinned post where I do mention the ask status (if it's closed or not) this is my first hao ask btw + tysm for the compliment, I'm glad you enjoy my works 💕 MASTERLIST!!

You and Zhang Hao had been together since high school. When it was time to grow up and explore job opportunities, the two of you managed to make long-distance work, though you’d always joked about who’d be the one to kiss first once you reunited. When Hao finally moved back to your city after landing a job, things shifted—not in a bad way, but definitely in a new direction. You both decided to live together because, honestly, after five years of dating, it didn’t feel like a big leap.

Still, there were moments of awkwardness, like when you’d share the same bed at night. Sure, you’d cuddle, but neither of you ever took it further—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were both too shy to take the first step. Every touch felt hesitant, every glance carrying the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Hao?” you whispered, nudging him gently. He was sprawled on the bed after a long day at work, clearly exhausted. You both split rent evenly, and lately, you’d noticed how much effort he put into his job. He hummed softly, his body shifting as he turned on his side to face you. Without a word, he pulled you closer, his arm draped around your waist.

“Did you have a hard time at work?” you asked, your voice barely above a murmur as your sleepy eyes met his. He blinked at you, his gaze warm yet hesitant, before one hand reached up to cup your cheek.

“It’s not work,” he said quietly, shaking his head slightly.

“Then what is it?” you pressed, your curiosity piqued.

He hesitated for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. “It’s about us,” he admitted, his voice soft but tinged with uncertainty. “Are you... not attracted to me anymore?” The question caught you off guard, and you frowned, trying to piece together why he’d think that. “Of course I’m attracted to you,” you replied quickly, your tone laced with confusion. “Why would you feel otherwise?”

He let out a small sigh, looking almost embarrassed. “Because... you never, you know... take any hints. And you don’t really drop any hints either. About wanting... my kisses.”

His words trailed off, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as he avoided your gaze. You stared at him for a moment before giggling softly, the nervousness between you both dissolving just a little. “Is it because I smell?” he asked suddenly, his tone half-serious, making you laugh even harder.

“Hao, no!” you managed to say through your giggles, shaking your head. “I’m just... nervous.”

“Then... can we do it now?” Hao's voice was barely a whisper, his nose brushing against yours as his hand rested gently on your cheek.

“Right now?” you echoed, your heart racing at his sudden question. His shy yet eager nod made your cheeks flush, and though you wanted to take the lead, the thought itself made you feel timid.

“Okay,” you murmured, giving a small nod of your own.

Neither of you moved at first, the shyness between you lingering in the space where your breaths mingled. It was as though a silent agreement passed between you: close your eyes and let it happen naturally. You squeezed your eyes shut, nerves buzzing through your entire body. And then, it happened—a soft, fleeting brush of his lips against yours. The touch sent a jolt down your spine, warm and electric, leaving you breathless even in its gentleness.

Both of you were lying on your sides, facing each other, and though the moment was slightly awkward, it was perfect in its own way. You tried to remember the romantic scenes you'd seen in dramas and movies, hesitantly capturing his upper lip between your own. Hao followed suit, tentatively suckling on your bottom lip, his movements clumsy yet tender. The kiss was inexperienced, both of you unsure of what to do next, but that only made it more endearing.

Your lips moved together in a rhythm that was anything but polished, yet the emotions behind it made your chest feel tight in the best way. With every soft press, every subtle tilt of your heads, you felt your connection deepen.

It wasn’t perfect or seamless, but it was real, filled with the quiet love and nervous excitement you’d built over the years.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, faces mere inches apart as you opened your eyes. Hao’s lips were slightly parted, his cheeks glowing with a faint blush as he grinned at you.

“That was...” he began, trailing off as he searched for the right word.

You giggled, touching your lips lightly. “Messy?”

“Perfect,” he corrected, his gaze soft and adoring.

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famoussharkhairdoknight · 3 days ago

Text

A Shoulder to Lean On~Pope Heyward

You were sitting on the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore, and the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of gold and pink. It was a quiet place, a peaceful corner you loved to share with your friends. But tonight, you were there for a different reason. Pope Heyward sat next to you, his knees pulled to his chest and his eyes lost in the sea.

This wasn’t the usual Pope. Normally, he was the sharp, thoughtful one in the group, always ready with a plan or a witty remark. But tonight, he seemed weighed down by the world, and you couldn’t ignore it.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” you began, breaking the silence. Your voice was calm, almost a whisper, careful not to disturb the delicate atmosphere of the evening. “But I’m here. If you want to talk.”

Pope shook his head slightly, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted. “It feels like everything I do, every decision I make… it ends up being wrong.”

You turned toward him, curious. “Like what?”

He sighed, lowering his gaze to the sand. His fingers toyed with a small piece of driftwood he had picked up. “Like my dad. He expects so much from me, and I want to live up to it, I really do... but it feels like I can never be enough. And then there’s all this mess with the Pogues, the treasure... I feel trapped in something way bigger than me.”

You nodded, giving him the time he needed to continue.

“I don’t want to be a failure, you know? But... sometimes I think I’m losing myself trying to make everyone else happy. And I don’t even know what I want anymore.”

It was rare to see Pope so vulnerable, and it broke your heart. You leaned forward slightly, searching for the right words. “Pope,” you began, “I know it feels like it’s all too much to handle. I know you feel like you’re letting everyone down, but listen to me: you’re not. You are not a failure—not even close.”

He looked up at you, his dark eyes filled with doubt. “And how would you know? You don’t know what it’s like to see my dad’s face when I can’t be what he wants me to be.”

“I don’t need to know,” you replied firmly, though your voice was gentle. “What I do know is that you’re doing your best. You give everything you have for the people you love, Pope. Look at what you do for us Pogues, look at how hard you try to make your dad proud. That’s not failing. That’s being incredibly strong.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, the driftwood in his hand now snapped in half. Then he spoke, his voice softer. “I don’t know. Sometimes... I think I just want to stop. Let it all go and walk away.”

“And what’s stopping you?” you asked, offering a kind smile. “You don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone. You can lean on us, Pope. You don’t always have to be the one to fix everything. We’re here for you, just like you’re always there for us.”

Pope looked at you, and for a moment, something in him seemed to ease. “It’s not easy, you know. Letting others take part of the load.”

“I know,” you said, shifting slightly to rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “But I promise we’ll never judge you for asking for help. You’re one of the best friends anyone could ask for, Pope. And I want you to remember that—always.”

He gave a small smile, weak but genuine. “Thanks,” he said softly. “I don’t think I say it often enough, but... I’m really grateful for you.”

“Always,” you replied, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Now, how about we stay here a little longer? The stars are about to come out, and you know how JJ loves to brag about knowing constellations. We could at least try.”

Pope let out a faint laugh, and the sound was a relief to your heart. “JJ wouldn’t recognize a constellation even if he had a book in front of him. But yeah... let’s stay a little longer.”

And so, you stayed there, under a sky filling with stars, the weight on his shoulders feeling just a little lighter thanks to a friendship that knew no conditions.

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strnilolover · 7 hours ago

Note

maid!readers reaction to be promoted to matt’s personal maid?

Darlings initial reaction to being promoted to matt’s personal maid was her being in shock from it. since they had only met once, she thought he wouldn’t remember her. But, she thought wrong.

When their first encounter happened in the part of the castle that no one ever rarely used, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Replaying the encounter over and over in her mind for days. Trying to convince herself that it had been nothing more than a fleeting moment — and he’s sure to have forgotten her by now.

But then one morning she was summoned by the head housekeeper. Her usual stern expression gave away nothing as she handed darling her new assignment. “You’re to report to the prince’s chambers immediately,” she said quickly and matter-of-factly, her focus already being turned to another task.

Her stomach dropped. “The prince’s chambers?” she muttered out. “Yes,” she said impatiently. “He’s requested you as his personal maid. Effective immediately.” her words left her mouth without even as much as turning a glance towards darling.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, “Are you sure ma’am?” she said, double checking to make sure she had heard her right the first time.

Her head whipped in darlings direction. “Of course I’m sure,” she snapped. “Now, go. You don’t keep royalty waiting.” her words trailed off as she became engrossed in her tasks once more.

Darlings heart raced as she made her way to his chambers, still reeling from the news. Why would he choose her? Surely there were other maids more qualified, more experienced.

When she had reached his door, her hand knocked softly against the wood. When she got a reply she entered his chambers, he was standing by the window, his back to her. At the sound of the door closing, he turned, and his face lit up with recognition.

“Darling,” he said warmly. “I’m glad you’re here.” She curtsied deeply, her cheeks flushing brightly at the pet name once more. Still unsure how to approach him in such an informal setting. “Your Highness, I—”

“Matt,” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. She hesitated, biting her lip. “I’m not sure I can, Your High—Matt,” she corrected awkwardly. He chuckled, crossing the room toward her. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, his smile so genuine it made her nerves ease ever so slightly.

“May I ask why you chose me?” she asked, still trying to process the whole situation. Matt smiled, giving her a small nod. “Do you remember the day we met in the eastern wing?” he asked, tilting his head.

She nodded slowly, the memory vivid in her mind. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that,” he admitted, his voice soft but sincere. “Something about you stayed with me. You were kind, hardworking, genuine… and I wanted to see you again. So I found a way to make that happen.”

And her cheeks burned, struggling to find the right words. “I… I’m honored, but I don’t know if I’m worthy of such a position.” she whispered. “You are,” he said simply. “I wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise.” His confidence in you was both humbling and overwhelming. “Thank you, Matt,” she said softly, testing the name on her tongue.

The smile that spread across his face was one of pure satisfaction. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it, darling?” he said, reaching a hand up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

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yezzns · 1 day ago

Text

{10:47pm}

pairings: idol!yeonjun x gn!reader

wc: ≈740 words

genre: angst, implied strangers to lovers, lovers to exes, right person wrong time (?) trope.

warnings: lame attempt of angst, self destructive relationship, yj kinda plays the victim, one (1) curse word.

not proofread

The city was cloaked in the heavy embrace of night, the distant hum of traffic blending with the steady drizzle that fell from the sky. You sat in the corner of your once-shared apartment, the flickering light from a lone lamp— the one you bought on your first anniversary, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The room, once filled with laughter and love, now felt like a tomb of broken dreams and shattered promises.

More under the cut!

Yeonjun stood by the window, staring out into the rain-soaked streets, his silhouette a stark contrast against the glass. His shoulders were tense, his posture rigid. The silence was suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved pain, but in retrospect, it’s been like this for a while, so long that you can barely remember anything but this.

“How did we get here?” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the patter of rain against the window. Hugging your knees to your chest while trying to contain the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

Yeonjun didn’t even turn to face you— coward. “I don’t know,” he replied, his voice hollow, devoid of the warmth it once held. “I really don’t know.”

Your heart ached at his indifference. You had been so in love, so certain that nothing could come between you. But now, standing on the edge of a precipice, you can’t recognize the person he has become. Or maybe it’s yourself you can’t recognize, months have passed since the last time you felt at ease.

“Is this it, then? Are we really ending things like this?” You scoffed, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling. You hated how desperate you sounded, how broken.

Yeonjun finally turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “You know my career is important for me,” he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “How selfish do you have to be to make me choose between my dream and you?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. “I didn’t—” you started, voice trembling. “I never wanted you to choose, but I’m so fucking unhappy. You’re never here anymore.”

His expression softened for a moment, but then the hardness returned. “And you think it’s easy for me? That I’m not exhausted?” he said. “I gave up my whole youth for this, ___. I can’t go around wasting my time in distractions.”

Well, ouch. The words hung in the air, heavy and final. You knew he was right. And you had become a twisted version of what you once were, love poisoned by insecurity, unmet expectations and lack of communication. But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less. After a while, you broke the silence, just to make this moment last.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Your voice barely a whisper. “You were so offended that we didn’t serve ramen at the restaurant.”

A sad smile tugged at the corner of Yeonjun’s lips. “Yeah, I remember. And then the next week you added it to the menu.”

You laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness, thinking of the way he’d stop by your parent’s restaurant every week after that, a little hiding spot in his almost non existent free time. “And now look at us. We’ve come so far, only to end up like this.”

Yeonjun took a deep breath, the weight of their shared past pressing down on him. “Maybe... maybe it’s for the best,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “Maybe we need to focus on what really matters again, get our lives back on track.” What really matters.

The thought of a life without him was unbearable, yet the thought of continuing this toxic dance was equally painful. What felt like a daydream soon turned into a nightmare, the promises he couldn’t keep of balancing his career and your relationship, the forgotten birthdays, missed calls and the cold shoulder you’d give him out of spite. It was self-destructive.

But oh, the good days. Your first month together lingered in your mind for longer than you wanted it to. When it was all about stolen kisses, passionate touches and getting to know each other.

“I wish things would’ve ended different,” he continued, glistening gaze with unshed tears drifting to a picture of the two of you hung up on the wall.

“I wish things never ended.” You replied with a sad chuckle. “It feels like you don’t care.”

He sat in silence, ignoring your statement, the rain a constant backdrop to your unraveling. There were no more words left to say, no more apologies or promises that could mend the fractures in your hearts. All that remained was the painful acceptance that sometimes love wasn’t enough.

Yeonjun moved toward the door, the finality of his actions like a knife to your heart. He paused for a moment, his hand on the doorknob. “Take care of yourself,” he said softly, his voice filled with a sorrow that matched your own.

“I love you,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper as you didn’t expect an answer.

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit apartment, the echo of his presence lingering in the shadows. The weight of your goodbye crashed down on you as his steps became inaudible, the possibility of never seeing who you thought was the love of your life again being more than you could handle.

In the quiet of the night, surrounded by memories of what once was, you allowed herself to grieve. Your love had been beautiful and passionate, but it had also been destructive and painful. And now, as you faced the prospect of a future without him, you knew that healing would take time.

And maybe, just maybe, you would look back and remember not the pain, but the moments of love and laughter that had once defined what you had.

A/N: this is my first time writing omg 🥴. English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes, I don’t know if I could express the feeling I wanted to but I’m really content w this work!

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daisymbin · 2 days ago

Text

prompt list for requests!!!

check out my masterlist!

please allow me some time to write them though I promise to get them out as fast as I can within my capabilities! word count will vary for each prompt!

prompt list includes: fluff, suggestive, second chance romance & angst

+ please let me know which genre + no.

+ for angst, please indicate if you want a happy ending or not, or if you would like for me to decide!

full prompt list under cut! check here for all completed req works: #daisymbin: reqs

fluff ⤵️

1. "you look good in my clothes/hoodie/sweater."

2. "you looked cold, so i brought you a blanket/jacket/sweater."

3. "do you wanna come over and watch that movie we always talk about?"

4. "stop stealing my food."

5. "you can stay over if you want."

6. "your hands are freezing—here, take mine."

7. "your laugh is my favorite sound."

8. "why are you hiding behind the door?"

9. "i didn’t mean to fall asleep on your couch."

10. "do you ever think about us like… as more than friends?"

11. "you remembered my favorite drink?"

12. "you can’t fall asleep without your goodnight hug, huh?"

13. "i kept this photo of us—don’t laugh."

14. "oh, so now we’re holding hands?"

15. "you’re my favorite person, you know that?"

16. "how do you look good even in sweatpants?"

17. "you forgot your umbrella, so i came to walk you home."

18. "wait, don’t fall asleep yet."

19. "you can borrow my jacket, but don’t lose it, okay?"

20. "you can braid my hair if you want."

21. "we should bake something together—it’ll be a disaster, but fun."

22. "do you think you could ever love me back?"

23. "you stayed up all night taking care of me?"

24. "you’re the only person who knows how to make me smile like this."

25. "your playlist is basically my soundtrack at this point."

26. "are you… blushing? because of me?"

27. "did you plan this whole day just to make me happy?"

28. "you’ve been carrying that photo of us in your wallet this whole time?"

29. "you’ll always have me, no matter what."

30. "is that my shirt you’re wearing?"

31. "you’re like my personal sunshine."

32. "hold my hand—just until we get there, okay?"

33. "you fell asleep on my shoulder again."

34. "you make my world feel a little brighter."

35. "i know you hate hugs, but i’m giving you one anyway."

36. "i couldn’t imagine my life without you in it."

37. "you brought me flowers? just because?"

38. "stop looking at me like that—it’s unfair."

39. "you talk about me in your sleep, you know?"

40. "i can’t believe you remembered my favorite ice cream flavor."

41. "you’re staring again—what’s on your mind?"

42. "sometimes, i wish time could just freeze when i’m with you."

43. "you’re my home, more than anywhere else."

44. "let’s stay up all night talking, just like we used to."

45. "you really trust me with your secrets, huh?"

46. "you doodled hearts in my notebook again."

47. "did you really save the last piece of cake for me?"

48. "you’re the best part of my day."

49. "what would i do without you?"

50. "you’re my person—always have been, always will be."

suggestive ⤵️

1. "if you keep looking at me like that, i might kiss you."

2. "are you trying to distract me on purpose?"

3. "you’re lucky you’re cute, or i’d be mad right now."

4. "you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart."

5. "is that your way of asking me to stay the night?"

6. "you can’t keep teasing me like this."

7. "come closer, i won’t bite—unless you want me to."

8. "you don’t have to pretend to be innocent with me."

9. "your hands feel good on my skin."

10. "you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?"

11. "that’s not what you were saying last night."

12. "stop biting your lip like that, it’s distracting."

13. "don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing to me."

14. "you’ve been staring at my lips for the past five minutes."

15. "if you keep talking like that, i won’t be able to hold back."

16. "do you have any idea what you do to me?"

17. "come here and let me take care of you."

18. "why don’t we skip the movie and go straight to the good part?"

19. "you’re going to be the death of me, i swear."

20. "you’re not as innocent as you look, are you?"

21. "do you want me to kiss it better?"

22. "your place or mine?"

23. "i didn’t say stop."

24. "you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?"

25. "do you trust me?"

26. "if you don’t stop teasing me, i might have to do something about it."

27. "come here, let me help you out of that."

28. "you’ve been on my mind all day."

29. "don’t make promises you can’t keep."

30. "you’re too tempting for your own good."

31. "what are you doing in my bed?"

32. "i think we’d both be more comfortable if you took that off."

33. "you’re cute when you’re flustered."

34. "what if i said i wanted more than just a kiss?"

35. "you have no idea how much i want you right now."

36. "is that a dare?"

37. "you look so good like this."

38. "tell me what you want, and i’ll make it happen."

39. "you’re mine, remember that."

40. "don’t look at me like that unless you mean it."

41. "you’re not as shy as you pretend to be."

42. "i love it when you get all worked up."

43. "keep talking like that and see what happens."

44. "you drive me crazy, you know that?"

45. "you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now."

46. "i’m not sure i can behave if you keep looking at me like that."

47. "let me show you how much i missed you."

48. "is it bad that i like seeing you all flustered?"

49. "you’re the best kind of distraction."

50. "you’re irresistible, and it’s so unfair."

second chance romance ⤵️

1. "do you ever think about what we could’ve been?"

2. "i never stopped loving you."

3. "if i could go back in time, i’d do everything differently."

4. "do you think we could try again?"

5. "i still keep your picture in my wallet."

6. "this place reminds me of us."

7. "do you ever miss me?"

8. "you’re the one that got away."

9. "i can’t stop thinking about what we lost."

10. "i wasn’t ready to let you go."

11. "you always had a piece of my heart."

12. "every song reminds me of you."

13. "it’s been years, and you still feel like home."

14. "i hate that i lost you."

15. "you deserved someone better than me."

16. "you still wear the necklace i gave you?"

17. "i saw you in my dream last night."

18. "we were so close to forever."

19. "do you think we could ever be us again?"

20. "seeing you again feels like a second chance."

21. "i thought i was over you, but then i saw you smile."

22. "you were my first love—you still are."

23. "i thought i’d never see you again."

24. "every road i take somehow leads back to you."

25. "do you remember the promises we made?"

26. "it’s always been you."

27. "i thought i was okay until i saw you with someone else."

28. "why did you have to come back into my life now?"

29. "i wrote you so many letters i never sent."

30. "you’re the only person who ever truly knew me."

31. "i don’t think i ever really moved on."

32. "i kept the gift you gave me."

33. "can we start over?"

34. "it still hurts, seeing you."

35. "i thought leaving was the right choice, but now i’m not so sure."

36. "you’re still the first person i think of when i hear good news."

37. "i was so stupid to let you go."

38. "do you think we could fix what’s broken?"

39. "we ended too soon."

40. "i never wanted anyone else—it was always you."

41. "you’re the reason i came back."

42. "i miss the way you used to look at me."

43. "it feels like i’ve been waiting for you forever."

44. "you used to love me."

45. "i wanted to call, but i didn’t think you’d pick up."

46. "i still dream about you."

47. "do you regret what we had?"

48. "you taught me what love is, and no one else has come close."

49. "it’s not too late for us, is it?"

50. "i still believe we were meant to be."

angst ⤵️

1. "i saw you with them—don’t deny it."

2. "you promised you wouldn’t hurt me."

3. "why didn’t you just tell me?"

4. "i thought i meant something to you."

5. "is that all i am to you?"

6. "you chose them over me."

7. "i don’t know if i can forgive you."

8. "was anything real between us?"

9. "i can’t keep pretending i’m okay."

10. "you don’t trust me, do you?"

11. "do you even love me?"

12. "did you even think about how i would feel?"

13. "don’t act like you care."

14. "you never really loved me, did you?"

15. "i’m not enough for you."

16. "do you even know how much you hurt me?"

17. "please don’t go."

18. "i thought you were different."

19. "it’s too late to fix this."

20. "i wish i could hate you."

21. "you don’t get to walk back into my life like this."

22. "i can’t lose you again."

23. "you broke me."

24. "i waited for you, but you never came."

25. "how could you keep this from me?"

26. "i wish we’d never met."

27. "this isn’t how it was supposed to end."

28. "you always put them first."

29. "stop pretending you care."

30. "i saw you with them—it’s over."

31. "don’t lie to me."

32. "you said you’d never leave."

33. "what about us?"

34. "you made me believe in us."

35. "why am i never enough?"

36. "you could’ve told me."

37. "don’t walk away from me."

38. "it wasn’t supposed to hurt like this."

39. "why are you pushing me away?"

40. "i thought we were forever."

41. "did you ever really love me?"

42. "please don’t make me choose."

43. "how could you think i didn’t care?"

44. "i loved you with everything i had."

45. "you were my everything."

46. "we can’t keep doing this."

47. "saying you're sorry isn’t enough this time."

48. "you knew this would destroy me."

49. "you’re too late."

50. "i hope they’re worth it."

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catras-breakup-song · 24 hours ago

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how do you feel about the whole "you always wanted more" line that got cut? at first i was wondering why they did that because adora didn't want more until it made me think "huh, what if prime was just running on catra's memories and didn't actually know adora?" but i'm curious as to what you think

OH MY GOD I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED THIS. i am such a sucker for the cut STC script. back in late 2020 & early 2021 i had a twitter layout based on “that little spot on the roof that only they knew about” because S3 is my favorite:

even better, i have another old twitter fancam saved from around that time too that used that screenshot of the script in the beginning. it was by the username yoosene but is now long gone, so i reuploaded it to imgur here (the hands part, i’m going insane…)!

anyway, as for interpretations, it was absolutely to manipulate & guilt-trip adora. i recently saw someone say (i don’t remember where though, sorry) that he was torturing both of them by setting up that nasty fight against both of their wills and had planned to kill catra all along — despite saying he wouldn’t right after she rescued glimmer and was imprisoned for it, in my opinion there was an unspoken “yet” even though he did technically say that word but you know what i mean; “you will be of use to me, and then everyone from your blighted planet, including yourself, will be destroyed.”

that’s the thing about what the show was trying to convey through her stay on prime’s ship via glimmer’s desperate pleas, isn’t it? her illusion of power was only ever temporary. once she no longer had anything of value to serve, what would she be worth? how could she have genuinely believed that he wanted to save her, of all living beings, from the curse of humanity & will of consciousness? what makes one individual different to an omnipotent god compared to countless others across the universe throughout space and time? i truly believe that he was subtly mocking her when he talked of her being “exalted, raised up above the other wretched creatures of [her] home world.”

i was actually trying to find another five by five takes quote about this, because mentioning them is always an obligation for me, but surprisingly i didn't really find anything about how catra had worked her way up to prime's recognized single subordinate (only that moment of reflection afterward, which is just this entire short video), and was under the false impression with a cocky & confident attitude that her position meant something for her safety & survival; i'm mostly referring to this moment:

the horde's the horde...even in space. as long as i'm of value to horde prime, i've got a place in this world. i can work my way up here, just like i did before.

actually y’know what… i’m going to tag @horde-princess because this is starting to dive into religious meta which is like… her whole gimmick thingy. we would be blessed (pun intended) to see your take on this writing that never made it to the show, if you haven’t given it already!

now this is veering too far off from the original point after getting sidetracked. the tone of those quotes in the alternate script is (fake) pity, and horde prime was entertained by the struggles of mere mortals. to make adora a failure of what she represented would surely force her to give up she-ra to him, because what would even be the point anymore of living up to expectations if she couldn’t save catra first & foremost (that’s something that she struggled with since initially leaving the horde over three years ago due to how catra made her feel about supposedly breaking their childhood promise… but it’s a story for another post)?

i don’t doubt that your thought process is at least partially right too though, anon. prime didn’t read adora’s mind thoroughly at any point, so it’s entirely possible that he just read off catra’s intense feelings of abandonment & betrayal. that being said, if he really did see all as he claimed, maybe he was able to recreate an objectively accurate collection of events and knows what really happened and what the intentions behind certain actions were. i also wonder if catra secretly knew deep down that adora’s defection wasn’t directly about her but just couldn’t admit it until she had time to deeply reflect on it during “corridors.”

i’ll leave this messy, unorganized post with an amazingly relevant gif set made by an editor whose work on here i really enjoy:

as i said a long time ago, you just had to be there on november 19th 2020 when that excerpt was released because the hype was crazy!

#asks #anon #spop #she ra #she-ra #she-ra and the princesses of power #catradora #catra #adora #glitra #glimmer #analysis #s5 #season five #5x05 #stc #save the cat #five by five takes #video edit

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pocket-stars · 3 days ago

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okay i want to talk about the awful doctor i had

i am autistic, i’m normally just fine at verbalizing and vocalizing, but stress can make me nonverbal. sometimes stress makes me vocal stim, which is usually long aaaaaaaaa hhhhhuuuuuuhhhhh ehhhhh type sounds. these are usually quiet, just my way of telling people hey, im not comfortable, please help

so far, ive been fortunate to have doctors that were patient and understanding with me. i was allowed to have my headphones on when i went under anesthesia, and was promised they would put my headphones back on when i woke up

in the past when i went under anesthesia, i felt myself falling asleep, had a dream, and then woke up in the operating room where i had fallen asleep. today when i went under, all i remember was being in the pre op room, and then waking up in the recovery room. so obviously, that transition was very disorienting

what was worse, though, was that i was only partially conscious. i felt almost paralyzed, i couldn’t move my body. my eyes wouldn’t stay open for more than half a second at a time, so i couldn’t get a good feel for where i was. a nurse was talking to me, and i could hardly understand a single word she was saying to me. there were wires on me that weren’t before. and, there was pain in unexpected places- they had to put a bit of air in me for the cameras they were using, and that air had made its way up to my shoulders and under my ribs, and it hurt like a damn bitch. plus, my headphones hadnt been put back on yet, so the noise in the room was causijg additional pain.

so i was really disoriented, scared and confused and in excruciating pain. so uncontrollably, i started making my stressed out noises, and LOUD. i couldn’t control myself. things like this cant be controlled.

the nurse with me immediately began scolding me, as if yelling at someone whos scared will make them feel any better. she was angry, really angry, and was telling me to shut up, be quiet, theres other patients in here stop being a nuisance, she came to my ears to Shout At Me “CAN YOU HEAR ME??? SHUT UP”

so i started wailing, because she was just making me more scared. one of the nurses reminded her of my headphones and they put them on, which made me instantly more comfortable, and i got a lot quieter. i was still making stress noise though, just at a mostly normal speaking volume. i still couldn’t move or hardly see anything or process any sounds other than the same nurse still bitching at me to shut up.

now my memories aren’t great here because i was still affected by anesthesia and hardly awake, but i think they were moving me around to unhook me from stuff, which was making the air move around which hurt and so i got louder again. and the nurse was Pissed at me. she kept snapping at me to either talk to her or for the love of god shut up. rather than trying to comfort me or anything.

getting moved around made the air under my ribs press up against my lungs, and suddenly breathing more than the absolute shallowest breaths i could manage felt impossible. my nose had gotten stuffed up, so i could only breathe through my mouth, and i started hyperventilating and crying and screaming the first words i had been able to say for god knows how long: “i cant breathe, i cant breathe, help me i cant breathe” and that nurse came up to me and told me actually 👆you Can breathe cus you’re screaming. no regards to my panic or pain at all, she just continued scolding me and trying to get me to shut up. she told me to breathe throuhh my nose, and i tried, but it was too stuffy, and she got frustrated with me for not listening to her.

i don’t remember how they got me breathing okay again; part of me remembers them putting an oxygen tube up my nose but i don’t know if that was a dream or not. i just remember that eventually, i was able to breathe okay, and my nurse was still being rude. so i mumbled to her with my dry mouth and sore throat, “you have terrible bedside manners.” she left, and i continued uncontrollably making uncomfortable stressed noises, but i was quieter now. it was mostly just groaning at a regular volume. the nurse came back much later, gave me some ice for my dry mouth, and didn’t say another word to me.

that was my first time ever experiencing anything like that in the healthcare system, and im lucky it was only the one recovery nurse. but it still hurt my heart. what about other autistic adults who may be even louder, who may get physically aggressive when people are being rude and making them more stressed out? every other doctor ive had, if something starts to freak me out, they’re gentle and reassuring and patient and explain things to me.

im going to complain about this woman when my surgeon calls me later, so im writing all of this down so i dont forget. annoying or not, no person should ever be treated this way.

#max.txt #autism

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butnotbubblegum · 4 months ago

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been thinking a lot about telling my friends i love them, recently.

anyway i love you so so much.

#i used to have such issues with saying that phrase out loud #and it was difficult to write but it was easier so i wrote it down in letters a lot instead #and now i find it a lot easier to say out loud and i never want to stop saying it #i want the people i love to know i love them #and i think a lot about how the first time it was said to me at uni i fully froze #like my whole body tensed. and i wasn’t sure if thomas was saying it to me or adela so i sort of ignored it #and then xe said it again a couple of weeks later while drunk af and i just. froze again. bc i wanted to like return the sentiment #but i couldn’t. and it took like eight times of them saying it for me to respond and idk if this was even a thing they noticed but it was so #clear in my mind. abd i remember the first time i managed it so clearly. and then like a few weeks after that it was like the floodgates had #opened and i could just say it to the people i really cared about. and it felt momentous.#but every time i say it out loud i still get that little tinge of fear and my body tenses a bit #especially when it’s over the phone #but i can’t wait until i see my friends in person again so i can say it to their faces #because i love my friends so much and i don’t know how to express this through action very well #like i want to be there for them and actionably demonstrate this #but i never know how or if im doing that right #so i’ll settle for trying my best and also saying the words repeatedly and hoping they’re heard #i love you all so very much and i would do anything for you i would like you to know this please

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starlooove · 2 years ago

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Ok like i know the whole no metas in Gotham thing is a lot more nuanced than most fans take it BUT I kinda like fanon interpretation here just bc I want Duke to have a network of metas connected in Gotham

Edit: I always make the full post in the tags but honestly it derailed so much that I think my point isn’t even necessarily entirely abt Duke and metas but basically I like Duke and everyone else does by default now. If y’all won’t woobify him the way I want I’ll do it myself

#like #imo I think it’s funny if Gotham citizens took the idea of no metas in Gotham way too literally #to the point of ostracization #funny was not the right word there but im not going back so anyways I meant interesting #and Duke himself doesn’t rlly give a fuck #he discovered his powers post the whole Batman thing and he personally knows that the way Bruce sees it is not the way the average gothamite #-sees it but he also knows that Batman doesn’t do much to actively dissuade them but he also knows PSAs are not how barman operates and that #-if he brought it to Bruce’s attention brucie wayne would have a lot to say on it in a way that Batman couldn’t but also also #-ppl OUTSIDE of Gotham and even withing Gotham use the meta thing to their advantage and it’d be a shitstorm so he needs to wait and plan #which sucks.#anyways this is all to say that Duke is friends with literally everyone in a way that other members of the batfam can’t be due to #the intersections of his identity. take that as you will.#and honestly if we wanna go an X-men type route #metas that ARENT heroes are treated a lot worse even if they’re not villains but they know they can trust the signal #Duke as the signal not limited to gothams bat signal but as a signal to everyone that there’s someone in their corner #remember that post that was like canon Duke is who everyone wants fanon dick to be #Duke is actually friends with everyone everywhere ever that’s just his charisma #dick doesn’t wanna be Batman but part of him does do that paranoid hiding info seeking info mission above all else kinda thing #I don’t think Duke would do that #I feel like Duke WOULD put community first and if he had a team I think he’d be the type to trust them with the info he knows #like y’all know the whole Kaldur thing in YJ? I think Duke is the type have either vetoed the plan or told the whole team #which isn’t better or worse (im not gonna get into ALL of it now) but diff #this is turning into a Duke Meta (pun intended) And honestly imma make a whole separate post Abt that ftw #anyways Gotham metas aren’t heroes bc they aren’t allowed to be but Duke gives them a chance #and even if they choose not to take it they know that it’s there and that warms them up a little #warm for a gothamite anyways #og batfam and then meta batfam #even if the other bats have friends that are Metas they WILL flock to Duke and they all hate it lmao #Tim slowly getting all his friends stolen #the entire flashfam is fighting a custody battle for Duke as we speak

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navybrat817 · 6 months ago

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Jawbreaker

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky put a mouthy rookie in his place. Word Count: Over 800 Warnings: Established relationship, mention of injury, misogyny, punching, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes defending you (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm dedicating this to @whisperlullaby , who got to read this in advance, because she deserves this man (along with the rest of you). ❤️Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A small part of Bucky felt bad as he idly wiped his hand with a towel. A very small part.

He didn’t want people to fear him because of his past and he refused to let it define him. That meant that he tried his best to avoid violent tactics unless absolutely necessary.

But today, well, fuck that. The fucker had it coming.

Steve stood in front of him, his blue eyes narrowed as he waited for his best friend to acknowledge him.

Oh, Bucky expected some sort of reprimand, but he was sure Steve would change his tune in a minute or so.

“You gonna ask me what happened, punk, or glare at me until I talk?” He asked, tossing the towel away.

The blonde huffed out a laugh, but he didn’t look amused. “Why did you break that rookie’s jaw?”

Bucky tilted his head. “What’s the phrase? He fucked around and found out.”

You would’ve been proud of him for that reference.

Steve shook his head when Sam burst out laughing a few feet away. “Sam, please,” he begged, though his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile. “What did the guy do?”

A bitter taste flooded Bucky’s mouth as anger coursed through his veins again. He inhaled as he thought of your sweet smile and soft touch before he exhaled, the storm inside of him calming.

“Buck, you gotta tell us something,” Steve urged, needing some sort of information to try and do some damage control.

The brunette straightened up to look his friend in the eyes, wanting him to see the fury beneath the cold mask. “He told my girl to throw an apron on and get back in the kitchen when she went to spar.”

You, one of the most capable agents Bucky had ever known.

You, who had shown nothing but kindness to everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.

The person Bucky was lucky enough to call his other half. His better half.

And some asshole rookie had the gall to treat you as if you didn’t belong there with the rest of them.

Sam was no longer laughing. Steve’s jaw clenched in understanding.

Bucky swallowed, that fury threatening to surface again as he remembered the hurt that filled your eyes at the comment. “You know I’d support anything she wants to do, whether that’s working or staying at home. It doesn’t give some prick the right to make her feel bad for her decision.”

“You know I don’t like bullies, but breaking his jaw?” Steve questioned. The guy deserved it, but did the punishment actually fit the crime?

“When she walked away, he said to come back when she was ready to see what a real man could do for her,” he said, the words coming out like a snarl.

The way you tensed up, fear and disgust flickering on your face, he didn’t think. A switch inside of him went off and he swung.

The fucker was lucky that all he got was a broken jaw. He could’ve done so much worse.

And it wasn’t that you couldn’t defend yourself because you could, but you shouldn’t have to put up with garbage like that.

A cracking sound echoed in the room before he realized he crushed the armrest of his seat. “Fuck. I’ll pay for that,” he mumbled, kicking a bit of the broken piece with his boot. “Can you just tell me how much trouble I’m in so I can get back to my girl?”

He didn’t care if he they suspended or even fired him as long as he got back to you.

The room stayed silent before Sam mused, “Technically, what the rookie did counts as harassment.”

Steve nodded. “And I’m sure Nat can persuade him not to sue for the injury he received,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We’ll take care of it, Buck. Just. No more breaking jaws, okay?”

“When it comes to my girl, I make no promises,” Bucky smiled, his heart racing at the thought of you. “And maybe he’ll think twice before he opens his mouth again.”

“The damage you did, I don’t think he can open his mouth at all,” Sam mumbled.

Bucky’s phone went off before he could comment, his heart swelling as he read your text. He had to bite back a groan, too.

“Thank you again, Jawbreaker. I love you and I’ll be on my knees waiting for you.”

You wanted to thank him not just with words, but with your body and heart. It all belonged to him, like he belonged to you.

And he didn’t need to tell Steve and Sam what the message said since it was just for the two of you. “Love you, too, baby. Nothing to thank me for, but I’m on my way. Be ready.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Maybe we'll see how you "thank" Bucky down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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julietsf1 · 2 months ago

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Post-Race Snuggles - Franco Colapinto x Reader

Summary: After an intense Singapore GP, Franco’s idea of the perfect cool down is snuggling up in his girlfriend’s lap; very fluff <3

warnings: possibly incorrect Spanish?

AN - I can't keep lying to myself I think I am not just on here to read anymore lmao, this one is just 1k but I have another longer story coming tomorrow or so! enjoy my lovelies

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

The sticky warmth of Singapore’s night air clung to me as I sat in Franco’s motorhome, waiting for him to return. I flicked through some post-race coverage on my phone, knowing how drained he must be after a race like that. The screen showed him smiling during the interviews, but I knew better—Franco’s green eyes gave away just how tired he was.

When the door creaked open, I glanced up and saw him there, looking utterly exhausted, his brown hair messy and damp from the heat. His race suit was unzipped, hanging loosely around his waist. Franco didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. He walked over with heavy steps, wrapped his arms around me, and buried his face into my shoulder.

“Hi there.” I laughed softly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. It was fluffier than usual, curling slightly from the sweat and humidity. “Tough day?”

He let out a low groan, not bothering to lift his head. “Si…” His voice was muffled, and I could feel the exhaustion in the way his body leaned into mine. “So tired.”

I smiled softly, running my hand down his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his suit. Suddenly, Franco shifted, pulling back just enough to take my hand in his. His eyes, though heavy with fatigue, met mine for a brief moment, and without a word, he gently tugged me down onto the couch beside him.

With a quiet sigh, he laid back, guiding my body to follow his until I was leaning into him. His head found its way into my lap as he settled in. I felt his hand resting on my waist first, a soft, grounding touch, before it slid down to rest comfortably on my thigh. His thumb moved lazily, tracing small circles, as if he needed to hold onto me even in his tired state.

“You want me to make you something? Mate, or a snack?” I asked quietly, brushing my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.

He shook his head slowly. “No, just this. Esto es todo lo que necesito.” His voice was soft, the Spanish slipping out naturally as his eyes fluttered closed. His arms loosened slightly around my legs, his thumb brushing lazily against my thigh, the lightest touch, as if even that small movement required too much effort.

I chuckled, running my hand through his hair again, smoothing it down where it stuck up in odd places. “You did amazing today. P11! I’m so proud of you.”

A faint smile curved his lips. His breathing started to slow, the tension melting away as I continued stroking his hair. This was my favorite version of Franco—the quiet, soft one who didn’t need to be witty or flirty. Just the one who wanted to be close.

Franco’s weight settled fully against me, his eyes were shut now, his messy curls resting in my lap. His thumb continued its slow, lazy patterns on my leg, the sweet small gesture sending warmth through me. His skin was warm from the heat of the race, his hair slightly damp, and I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked, even when he was this tired. His lashes were long, his green eyes hidden behind them, and his lips, parted slightly as he breathed, were soft, with the faintest smile still playing there.

“You looked so good out there today,” I whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear me in his tired state. “Fast, confident… and you know, kind of cute with all that sweaty hair.”

He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. “Most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

I grinned. “Don’t get used to it. I’m only nice to you when you’re too tired to remember.”

His lips twitched into a smile, but he didn’t respond, his breathing evening out even more. The motorhome was dimly lit, casting soft shadows, making everything feel even cozier. The sounds outside—people moving around the paddock, the distant hum of engines cooling down—faded away. It was just us, tangled up in the warmth of each other’s presence.

As I stroked his hair, I could feel him relax completely. His body was fully at ease, and I knew he was almost asleep. He looked so peaceful, his usual spark of energy tucked away for the night. I smiled down at him, my heart full. These moments, after the chaos of race days, were our little slice of quiet, where it felt like the world didn’t exist outside this motorhome.

Franco shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into my lap. I thought he was fully asleep until his voice broke the silence, soft and raspy.

“Te amo,” he murmured, his eyes barely open, heavy with exhaustion.

My heart skipped a beat. He’d said it before, but hearing it now, with his defenses down, made it feel different. I glanced down, expecting to see him fully asleep, but instead, those green eyes peeked up at me through his lashes, tired but full of something deeper.

I felt a rush of warmth fill my chest. “I love you too,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead again, my fingers gently running through his hair.

His eyes fluttered shut at the kiss, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Más que a nada en el mundo…” he mumbled, his voice trailing off into sleep, the weight of his words lingering between us like a quiet promise.

I stayed like that, holding him close as he drifted off completely, my hand still in his hair, thinking about how easy it was to love him—especially in moments like this.

#formula one #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto imagine #f1 x reader

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incognit0slut · 28 days ago

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On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

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You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

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“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

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“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

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That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

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The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

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Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

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His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

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The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

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Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."

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