#i so hope you liked it!!!! thank you for requesting

[xo100]

Hi! Could I ask Lando with pregnant reader. Like maybe her getting dizzy bc of all the paparazzis and fans surrounding. Maybe angsty. Dunno if you'll like the idea, but I honestly love ur work soo much

Our little miracle - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1244

*:･ﾟ A/N: first of all I want to say sorry for not being so active lately! I’ve been busy with school and work, I didn’t had any time to write! Second I want to say thank you so much anon! I hope you like this story too! If not let me known!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The late morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming the bedroom and casting soft golden streaks on the walls. The gentle hum of the city outside was barely audible over the rhythmic sound of Lando’s breathing beside you. His arm was slung lazily over your waist, his warmth seeping into your skin like a comforting blanket.

You blinked sleepily, turning your head to look at him. His face was still soft with sleep, his hair a wild mess of curls that begged to be smoothed down. He looked so peaceful like this, so completely at ease, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

“Caught you staring,” he mumbled, his voice raspy as his lips curled into a sleepy grin.

“I wasn’t staring,” you lied, your cheeks heating up.

“Sure,” he teased, his eyes still closed. “You’ve been staring at me every morning for the past five years. It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. “Good morning, Lando.”

“Morning,” he said, finally opening his eyes. They were warm and bright, like pools of melted chocolate, and they crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you. “Guess what day it is?”

You blinked, still half-asleep. “Uh… Saturday?”

“Baby shopping day,” he announced, his grin widening.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “You’re more excited about this than I am.”

“Of course I am!” he said, propping himself up on one elbow. “We’re picking out stuff for our baby. This is a big deal.”

It was a big deal. After months of trying—months of hope and heartbreak—you were finally here. Fourteen weeks pregnant, your little miracle growing inside you. It still didn’t feel real sometimes, like you were dreaming and could wake up at any moment.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” you said softly, your hand resting on your small but growing bump.

“It’s happening,” Lando said, covering your hand with his. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “And I can’t wait to spoil both of you today.”

---

The car ride into the city was filled with laughter and teasing. Lando, as usual, couldn’t resist cracking jokes, trying to lighten the nerves you hadn’t even realized you were feeling.

“Okay, but hear me out,” he said, glancing at you with a mischievous grin. “What if we name the baby after a car? Like… Ferrari Norris. Or McLaren Norris. That’s got a nice ring to it, right?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Absolutely not. Our child is not going to be named after a car brand.”

“Fine,” he said, pretending to pout. “But if they grow up to be a racer, I’m taking full credit for the inspiration.”

The boutique Lando had chosen was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, its window displays filled with pastel-colored baby clothes and wooden toys. The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by the soft scent of lavender and the faint sound of a lullaby playing over the speakers.

Lando’s eyes lit up as he took in the rows of tiny clothes and baby accessories. “This is it,” he said, grabbing your hand. “This is where we find all the cool stuff.”

You spent the next hour wandering the store, debating over cribs and strollers, laughing as Lando tried to convince you that the baby absolutely needed a mini Formula 1 onesie.

“Come on,” he said, holding it up with a grin. “How cute would they look in this?”

“They’d look adorable,” you admitted, “but they’ll probably outgrow it in a month.”

“Worth it,” he said, tossing it into the shopping basket.

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Seeing him like this—so excited, so ready to dive headfirst into parenthood—made your heart swell with love.

---

By the time you left the store, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the streets were bustling with activity. Lando carried the shopping bags in one hand, his other arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

You didn’t notice the paparazzi at first.

It started with a few flashes, the sudden brightness making you blink. Then came the voices—shouting questions and calling Lando’s name.

“Lando! Over here!” “How’s the season going?” “Is it true you’re expecting?”

The crowd seemed to grow out of nowhere, fans and photographers swarming around you. The noise was overwhelming, a cacophony of voices and camera clicks that made your head spin.

“Lando,” you said softly, gripping his arm.

He turned to you immediately, his eyes scanning your face. “Hey, are you okay?”

You tried to nod, but the dizziness was already setting in. The flashes, the shouting, the crush of bodies—it was too much.

“I don’t feel…” Your voice trailed off as your vision blurred.

Lando didn’t hesitate. Dropping the shopping bags, he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you steady. “Alright, that’s enough!” he snapped, his voice sharp and commanding. “Back off! She’s pregnant. Give her some space!”

The crowd faltered, the realization rippling through them. But Lando didn’t wait for them to comply. He guided you away from the chaos, his body shielding yours as he led you down a quieter side street.

“Breathe, love,” he said softly, stopping to face you. His hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “In and out. I’ve got you.”

You nodded, focusing on his voice, his touch. The dizziness slowly faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt creeping in. “I ruined our day.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Lando said, his tone gentle but firm. “You and the baby come first. Always.”

You managed a weak smile. “Even over baby sneakers?”

“Even over baby sneakers,” he said, grinning. “But just barely.”

---

Back at home, the chaos of the day felt like a distant memory. Lando had insisted on ordering takeout, claiming that you deserved to be spoiled after the ordeal.

As you sat on the couch, surrounded by the shopping bags you’d managed to bring home, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace. Lando was in the kitchen, humming softly as he poured you a glass of water.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you before sitting down beside you. His hand immediately found its way to your stomach, resting there gently.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m okay,” you said, covering his hand with yours. “Thanks to you.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “I can’t wait to meet them,” he said quietly, his voice filled with wonder.

“Me too,” you whispered, leaning into him.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds the faint hum of the city outside and the occasional rustle of the shopping bags.

“You know,” Lando said after a moment, “I meant what I said earlier. You and the baby come first. Always.”

You turned to look at him, your heart swelling with love. “I know,” you said. “And I love you for it.”

“I love you too,” he said, his eyes shining with emotion. “More than anything.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, golden glow, you realized that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Lando would face them together.

And that was all that mattered.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Actor

The Golden Age of Hollywood. Stars are born every day and you're desperate to become one. Thanks to @laboodanda for requesting this!

Yandere! Actor who's well established in the industry - his name on the Walk of Fame, his face on all the posters, his agents calling day and night with new offers.

Yandere! Actor who meets you on the set of his latest movie. You're barely even part of the main cast - just a side character with a few lines. But you sparkle.

You have that razzle dazzle in you that makes a true star.

Yandere! Actor who knows it's just a matter of time before you make it big. You've already got your foot in the door and all it takes is a lucky break.

Yandere! Actor who comes up to talk to you during lunch, winks at you and grins at the way you blush. You're in awe of him and it takes a second before you can answer his questions.

Yandere! Actor who's used to starstruck fans, to women who shriek when he looks their way. But, it's somehow new and endearing when you're the one looking at him like that.

He can hear the other extras rushing to your side when he leaves, babbling about how lucky you are that he talked to you, the big stars never notice the little fish.

On the final day of filming, he congratulates you on your first ever role and invites you to dinner to celebrate.

Yandere! Actor who takes you to a cozy restaurant in a quiet seaside neighbourhood. He doesn't want to be interrupted by fans, but he also doesn't want to be seen in public with you. At least not yet.

You really impress him. You know quite a lot about acting techniques, about getting into and maintaining character, about catering to the camera.

But it's clear you're still a rookie. There's a slight nervousness to you that veteran starletts don't have. It's alright - he'll train it out of you in no time.

Yandere! Actor who shares he milkshake with you and offers you his jacket when the sea wind starts to nip.

When he drops you off, he squeezes your thigh and says he'll talk to his agent about you, that there might be a role in his next movie for such a pretty little thing.

Yandere! Actor who sees the innocent, love struck look in your eyes and revels in it.

Pretty soon he calls you and tells you about a private audition with some studio execs.

"Keep your hair loose and wear that short sundress you wore on our date."

It should be friendly advice, so why does it sound like an order?

The audition is in one of the studio's offices. A room filled with big shot executives and egotistical directors. Men in suits who are high on their own power, their own genius. They've seen a thousand hopeful girls and to them you're no different.

The way they look at you makes you feel like dirt, like the most untalented person in the whole world. You would have walked out then and there if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who volunteers to read the lines with you. He winks and smiles at you and by just being there makes you feel so much better. And a few sentences in, you find your stride. Immerse yourself in the scene.

You're playing the part of a jilted lover, a woman who gave everything to her man and has her heart shattered when he leaves. In the final act, you grab his collar and look up at him with tears in your eyes, your voice shaking.

"Please, please don't go. I love you. I need you."

You raise one hand to his cheek, your fingers trembling. "Don't you love me too?"

Yandere! Actor who actually forgets his line.

You're looking up at him so weak, so vulnerable that his mind goes blank. His director calls out the line and he repeats it blankly.

"And...End scene!"

Yandere! Actor who doesn't look away from you even when the directors start clapping and you turn to give them a bow. You were so raw that it didn't feel like a performance. The tears, the desperate way you pulled at him... It felt so real.

It's only when his agent slaps him on the back that he manages to snap out of it.

The director is already grabbing your arm and insisting to the studio executives that he needs you in his next movie.

Yandere! Actor who comes up behind you and drapes his arms around your shoulders. You don't realise it but he's staking his claim, showing all these rich and powerful men that anything to do with you has to go through him. He grins at his agent.

"She's perfect, isn't she?"

The man lowers his shades and drags his eyes across your body.

"You need to clean up her look a little, but you were right. She's the perfect girl for you."

You feel like there's more behind their conversation, things they've discussed that you aren't privy to. But you don't have the nerve to ask.

On your way out of the studio, Yandere! Actor curls his arm around your waist.

"You're gonna be a lead actress soon baby. The execs want you in a few supporting roles first, just to get you used to the camera, but the director has his mind set on you."

You smile at him, a megawatt grin filled with the thrill of having your dream come true. It makes him feel like the centre of your world, makes him feel like a man.

You throw your arms around his neck and hug him. "I owe you! Thank you thank you thank you thank -"

He cuts you off with a kiss. And in that moment you really do feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Yandere! Actor who slowly takes over your beauty routine. Who tells your hairdresser exactly what shade to tint your hair, exactly what shape to thread your eyebrows. Who buys you new clothes and tells you exactly how to style them.

You don't realise it, but he's shaping your look into something that compliments his own.

Yandere! Actor who almost invites you to his movie premiere until his agent advises against it. Who kisses you and apologises and says he'll bring you to the next one.

You understand, you really do. You're still relatively unknown and having you on his arm would just invite gossip. But it still stings watching him go to the premier on his own, his arm around his beautiful co-star. You go to bed that night with doubts nagging at your mind.

It's only when you hear him knocking at your door at three in the morning that your insecurities go silent.

Yandere! Actor who's still wearing his tuxedo from the red carpet. His hair falling out of its slicked back style as he dangles a bottle of champagne in front of you.

"Gotta celebrate with my girl."

He's barely three steps into your apartment before he's kissing you, his hands on your waist and dropping lower.

You try and push him away. Tell him it's your first time.

Yandere! Actor who nips at your neck. "Don't worry, 'm gonna be so gentle."

When you still try and slip away, he pulls back to look in your eyes. Despite the haze of alcohol, there's something piercing about the way he looks at you.

"How many girls can say their first time was with a Hollywood star?"

Yandere! Actor who let's his fingers climb higher up your thighs.

"I've been workin' so hard to make you an actress. Don't I get a reward?"

How are you supposed to say no to a man who holds your future in his palm? You nod your head just the slightest and he's back to kissing you, back to drawing you hands to his belt, back to growling in your ear.

Yandere! Actor who's a shameless liar. He isn't gentle with you at all.

Yandere! Actor who wakes up all groggy and hungover the next morning. Who pulls you closer to him and falls asleep again with his head on your chest. You look down at his dark hair and his chiseled features and for a little while, it doesn't feel like such a bad deal. Love him in exchange for a career.

And he is so easy to love.

Yandere! Actor who encourages the director to start filming your movie as soon as possible. A romance between a thief (you, in your very first lead role) and a jaded detective with a heart of gold (him, who's had so many lead roles he's lost count).

The schedule is gruelling and the director is a tyrant, but this is your big break. You give it everything you have. You learn the script inside and out, badger the screen writer until she discusses your character arc with you, follow the director around and beg him for tips.

Yandere! Actor who adores working with you. You're sweet and pliable and the chemistry between you is sizzling. Every scene with you makes him need a cold shower and a priestly intervention.

Yandere! Actor who pulls you into his trailer every chance he gets to "read lines." But it always ends with him holding you down and kissing you, claiming it's good practice for the camera.

"Character building," he pants from between your legs. "Just getting into the mindset."

Yandere! Actor who watches with satisfaction as the movie comes along. You remind him of himself when he just started, raw talent and a burning desire to please.

Yandere! Actor who is next to you every moment he isn't needed on set. Who gives you endless advice and makes you laugh with his stories about bad takes and wardrobe malfunctions.

Part of it is to keep an eye on you - there's a jealous bit inside him that thinks of you as his creation, your talent a reflection of his training - and part of it is to spark rumours.

It works exactly as he intends. Pretty soon the magazines and radio hosts are blabbering about a possible romance between him and his relatively unknown co-star.

Yandere! Actor who's determined to make this movie a success. On the premier night, he walks down the red carpet with his arm around your waist. When the cameras are at the height of their flashing, he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

The next morning, the papers are raving about it and the theatres are sold out before midday.

It's a critical and commercial success. Yandere! Actor who's high on the thrill of it. Who loves driving down Hollywood Boulevard and seeing you on the billboards, who loves having Hollywood's newest darling on his arm and in his bed.

But then the letters start coming.

Yandere! Actor who snarls at the piles and piles of fan mail you receive. Maybe, if it was all innocent praise, he could have accepted it. But most of the letters are absolutely filthy.

Men writing to you from all over the country, all over the world. Describing in detail all the things they want to do to you, all the ways they want you speared on their cocks. Men who promise to treat you so sweet you'd never want to leave them and men who threaten to whip you over their knee if you don't learn to say please when they fuck you.

Yandere! Actor who's never received mail with such perversion. His fans are mostly sweet young girls who timidly describe how nice it would be to find a man like him, to get taken to prom and courted.

Yandere! Actor who becomes suspicious of every man he sees. The gaffer that looks at you too long becomes the guy who promised to find you and fill your cunt with his come. The driver who holds your hand when you climb out of the car becomes the stalker who followed you home the other night.

Yandere! Actor who keeps his arm around you whenever you're outside. Who starts keeping his gun in the glove box of his car.

It's not only strangers he needs to worry about either. The studio executives keep pressuring you with stricter and stricter contract offers. The director wants you starring in a romance role with another man. Two dozen talent agencies are crawling over glass to try and sign you.

Yandere! Actor who tells you to let him handle the contracts and paper work.

"The bastards will try and trick you out of your money and your clothes. Trust me baby, I've had to deal with plenty of shitty deals. I don't want that for you."

Yandere! Actor who knows exactly how tightly binding a contract is. And it's no coincidence that the one he has you sign binds your career almost entirely to his. It ensures that the bulk of your roles are alongside him, that he has the final say in studio disputes, that he owns the rights to your name.

The studio executives might normally never sign a deal like that, but they're desperate to get you under contract. You're a blazing star and they aren't going to lose you to a competitor.

Yandere! Actor who drinks a toast to your success and kisses you infront of all those high flying executives. Despite all the attention and awards you've earned, you still look up at him with a blind sort of hero worship. He's the goal you've always aimed for, the standard you've tried to reach. To be his girl is still so dizzying you almost can't believe it.

In bed that night, Yandere! Actor thinks about proposing, about wifing you up. The wedding would be huge, generate massive press. His next big project with you is scheduled for half a year away. Maybe do a proposal during opening night? Or better yet, at the Academy Awards? Yeah, that would get cinemas sold out even faster than kissing you on the red carpet did.

Save the wedding for a few years down the line. When your career is more established and your image might need an upgrade.

You curl against his side and moan in your sleep, brow scrunched. Cute, naive little thing, aren't you? Hollywood would swallow you up and spit you out if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who kisses your forehead as you dream about cameras and lights and action.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take extra good care of you."

Yandere! Actor who's curated his image so carefully. Who wants a girlfriend who's light and talent make him shine all the brighter.

And who better than someone who owes him her career?

Extra!! Here's a short drabble I wrote when I was brainstorming the idea with @laboodanda

[kaissatou]

Namgyu hcs namgyu hcss, there's almost nothing about him😭😭😭 and I got such a love-hate relationship with this guy so it would be cool something like love-hate related? Maybe headcanons or whatever you like where namgyu and reader aren't even a couple but it's like a hot and cold thing, teasing each other all the time..? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT LMAOOO But yk yk, let your mind flow, it can be nsfw too, however you see fitting!

sorry if this isn’t quite what you wanted lovely, thank you for requesting ♡ afab!reader. not yet proofread!!

fwb!namgyu who never fails to get on your last nerve. He also never fails to milk your gooey little pussy dry. He isn’t your friend- he also isn’t your enemy, but he certainly isn’t your lover.

fwb!namgyu who (lightly) smacks the back of your head whenever he’s behind you purely to annoy you, and totally not to feel the softness of your hands on his chest as you push him away, muttering curses. He hopes you don’t seem to notice the hearts in his eyes, his soft irises suddenly enlarging. You don’t need to see his small grin as he walks off, either.

Constantly going back and forth with fwb!namgyu until he’s pushing you against the wall before you can clock it, his soft lips massaging your own in a sloppy spell, like he’s trying to claim you as his own. Fuck it. You slip a hand into his hair, tangling your fingers between loose strands with a delicious pull that has him- was that a moan? Fuck it. Once can’t hurt.

fwb!namgyu whose got you bent on your bed, back arching in a position that you didn’t know was even possible for you until now. Hips smacking into your own roughly, animalistic grunts filling your ears. A firm hand wrapped around your hair, the pulls adorning your whines as he caresses and cradles that messy sweet spot as he’s balls deep within you. Your face pressed onto the sheets, your overstimulated tears rolling onto the pillow.

It was never just once. After that fateful night it was practically impossible to keep your hands off of each other. Soft touches in the hallway and if you blinked you would’ve missed it, to more obvious things like a loud, breathy kiss the second you open the door and let him in, his limbs intertwining with your own.

fwb!namgyu who used to send you up? messages to you in the middle of the night (hinting that he’s down to fuck) before getting an ounce of dignity. Now, it’s can i come see u?

fwb!namgyu who knows he’s fucked when his mind can’t even imagine teasing you anymore. fwb!namgyu who stays up late at night with your pretty grin wngrained into his mind, the way your eyes curl as he makes you laugh. And then he’s imagining the way your lip curled into a small that one time, and he’s disgusted with himself that he ever let that pretty smile fade. He rolls over to emerge himself into the covers, in hopes of silencing thoughts of you.

fwb!namgyu whose heart drops when you phone him in the middle of one night, the crackle of your shitty network not failing to hide the heart wrenching sobs of yours that had his stomach twisting uncomfortably, his hands itching uncontrollably.

And instantly he’s driving to you before he can stop it, before you can say anything else, his hands gripping the wheel oh so tight, but he can’t even feel it, he can’t even think of anything but you. He’s never done this for a girl before. He’s never done this for you. fwb!namgyu, who’s pretty brown eyes are filled with worry as you let him in, instantly engulfing your sorrow filled frame in a tight embrace.

fwb!namgyu whose heart lets you cry in his arms and whispers pretty words of reassurance to you, a different Namgyu that you knew. A Namgyu that you could grow to…love?

fwb!namgyu who doesn’t seem to annoy you anymore. The same Namgyu whose presence you learn to yearn for. fwb!namgyu who never fails to provide you with flowers whenever he visits. Namgyu who doesn’t visit only for sex anymore, but for movie nights, dinner dates, and things he once deemed before as all too romantic. fwb!namgyu who wants it all, with you.

boyfriend!namgyu whos fucking making love to you so delicately, so softly, so in love, so different from how it was before. boyfriend!namgyu whose got you in missionary, his hair tickling against your neck, his face coming down to your neck, his pretty pink lips adorning your neck. So loving.

Boyfriend!namgyu whose making you take him deeeeep, peppering your face with kisses and shushing your whimpers and whines and moans with i know, I know, shh… His pretty cock filling you to the brim, like the puzzle peice you’ve being missing your whole life.

Boyfriend!namgyu who wakes you up with the smell of coffee and orange juice, your naked body cascaded and hidden like a prize under the soft silk of your duvet, a fullfilled smile hanging lazily on your lips, and the remnant of his kisses. He’ll just have to replace those memories with new ones.

[kirammanswifey]

Would you be down to write some reverse comfort with the Arcane characters?

Basically just make them go through one of the worst days of their lives then have the reader take care of them (I mostly just wanted to see Viktor in this scenario, but if you want to write for other characters too that'd be awesome)

Either way take your time and I hope you have a wonderful day ~☁️

arcane characters reverse comfort x fem reader

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

writer's note: i'm always down for this kind of scenarios, make me feel like a teenage girl again. as you already know request are open ;)

Viktor

It has been an exhausting day in the lab. The experiments have failed time and again, each mistake weighing heavier on Viktor’s shoulders. You can see it in his eyes when he finally gives in, letting the tools fall with a long, heavy sigh. He leans against the workbench, his slender, hunched figure casting a shadow of defeat on the walls illuminated by the flickering equipment.

"This doesn't make sense..." he murmurs, as though the words are a burden he needs to release. His fingers drum frustratedly on the metallic surface, and you feel the despair in every tap. "I’ve made mistake after mistake... Maybe this was all a mistake from the start."

His words hit you, but it’s the tone of his voice that wounds you more, filled with a self-criticism that is painfully familiar but no less difficult to hear. You know how much his work matters to him, how much of himself he has poured into these projects. And you know this failure consumes him more than he’s willing to admit. You can't just stand by and watch him spiral.

"Viktor," you say softly, stepping closer and placing a firm yet comforting hand on his arm. "You’re a genius, and even geniuses have tough days. Today was one of those days, but it doesn’t define who you are or what you do."

At first, he doesn’t respond. His gaze is lost, searching for answers in the shadows that stretch across the lab. But then his grey eyes meet yours, filled with doubt and exhaustion. "How can you be so sure? Every day without progress... I feel like I’m wasting time, like I’m failing everyone, even myself."

Your heart tightens at his words. You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers gently, feeling the coolness of his skin against yours. "Because I know you, Viktor. I’ve seen your dedication, your passion. Every mistake, every small setback is part of the process. You don't have to carry this weight alone. I’m here to help you shoulder it."

The silence that follows is thick, but instead of uncomfortable, it’s a space where words aren’t necessary. Slowly, you see his posture relax, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. Without letting go of his hand, you step even closer, sensing the fragility of the moment.

"Let’s step outside for a bit," you whisper, "You need to clear your mind, get some fresh air. You don’t have to do it all today, not tonight."

He looks at you again, with a mix of gratitude and weariness, and finally nods. "Alright," he says softly, as if it’s hard for him to admit he needs the break.

You walk together to the exit, your fingers still entwined with his. The night air is a balm, cool and light, carrying away some of the day's heaviness. You walk in silence through the almost deserted streets, the distant hum of the city a constant murmur.

"Thank you," he finally whispers, breaking the silence with a voice soft, almost breaking. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

You stop, turning to face him. "You don’t have to know, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, through the good and the bad days. You don’t have to bear this burden alone."

He tilts his head, and for a moment it seems like he’s about to say more, but instead, he simply squeezes your hand tighter, a silent gesture that speaks volumes.

"Come here," you say, leading him to a nearby bench. You sit beside him, and for the first time all night, you see him take a deep breath, as if the fresh air could cleanse not just his lungs but also his mind and soul.

Viktor rests his head on your shoulder, allowing himself to close his eyes and savor the moment. You kiss his head and gently stroke his hair, cherishing these rare moments, knowing how precious they are when they happen.

"Today was a bad day," he finally says, his voice tinged with a quiet melancholy. "But, for some reason, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming with… with you here."

You smile softly, feeling warmth spread from his acceptance, from his openness. "I’ll always be here to remind you that even the worst days come to an end. And that you are stronger than you think."

He looks at you, and for an instant, the world seems to stop. His gaze, filled with gratitude and something deeper, envelops you. Before you can say anything more, you feel him leaning towards you, and in that moment, everything falls into place. His lips brush against yours with a tenderness that disarms you, a kiss soft yet laden with unspoken emotions.

When you part, just inches away, his eyes remain closed as if he wants to hold onto the moment a little longer. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.

You cradle his face in your hands, gently caressing his cheeks. "There’s no need to thank me, my love."

Jinx

The day had been chaos, even by Jinx's standards. Everything had gone wrong: a botched attack, crumbling plans, and to top it all off, an unexpected explosion that almost trapped her in her own trap. Now, she sat in her lair, surrounded by the wreckage of her shattered inventions, her breath short and pulse racing. Her mind, always a whirlwind, now felt like a hurricane of uncontrollable voices and thoughts.

The laughter of her imaginary "friends" echoed in her head, growing louder, mocking her. "Failed again, Jinx. You always fail." She pressed her hands against her temples, squeezing as if she could silence the voices. But the laughter wouldn’t stop, and the crushing weight of loneliness and failure bore down on her.

You approached cautiously, knowing that Jinx in this state was a minefield. But you also knew you couldn’t leave her alone in her internal storm. "Jinx," you called softly, keeping your voice low and calm. "I’m here, sweets."

She didn’t respond at first, her body tense like a spring about to snap. But as you drew closer, her bright blue eyes, wide and wild, met yours with a mixture of anger and desperation. "Why? Why do you keep coming back? Don’t you get it? I don’t need anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me like this."

"I’m not here to judge you," you replied gently, sitting down next to her without encroaching too much on her space. "I’m here because I care. Because I know that sometimes, even the strongest people need a breather. And there’s nothing wrong with that."

She let out a bitter laugh, dripping with sarcasm. "A breather? You think I can just... breathe and everything will be fine? That’s not how my head works. It’s... broken. Everything’s broken."

Your eyes softened at the pain in her words, the self-loathing and anger intertwining dangerously. Without much thought, you reached out, lightly touching her hand, hoping the physical contact might ground her somehow.

"Maybe you can’t fix everything right away," you said softly, "but at least you’re not alone in this boat. I’m on board with you, and I’m not getting off, even if we hit an iceberg." You joked to lighten the tense atmosphere.

She looked at your hand on hers, and for a moment, it seemed like she would pull away. But instead, her trembling fingers closed around yours, with a grip that betrayed just how desperately she needed something—someone—to understand her.

"Why do you care?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I’m a mess. Everything I touch... I ruin."

"Because you’re more than your mistakes," you said, squeezing her hand gently. "You’re strong, creative, and even if the world doesn’t understand you, I want to be here for you, to help you see that, even when everything gets tough."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice breaking as she murmured, "I don’t know if I can do it... but thank you... for not giving up on me."

You smiled softly, leaning closer to her. "I’ll never give up on you. And you know what? Let’s make a deal. Today was a bad day, but just for today, we’ll do whatever you want. How about we start with some ice cream?"

Her eyes lit up slightly, though there was still a shadow of doubt in her expression. "Ice cream? Really?"

"Serious business," you said, smiling a little more. "Pick your favorite flavor. We’ll go get it, and then we can do whatever you want. You can draw, launch rockets, blow things up—whatever makes you feel better."

"Can I dye your hair blue?" she asked, her tone teasing but her eyes hopeful.

"Anything but that," you corrected, not quite understanding her obsession with wanting to dye your hair.

She burst out laughing, pressing a hard kiss to your cheek. "Just kidding, hon. I love everything about you, even your boring dark hair."

"Hey!" you playfully patted her shoulder.

Suddenly, her smile faded again, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

"But what if everything keeps going wrong?"

"Then I’ll be here to pick up the pieces with you," you said, gently stroking her hand. "You’re not alone, sweets. Not today, not any day."

She launched herself into your arms, hugging you tightly, her body trembling slightly. "Thank you..." she whispered against your neck, clinging to you as if you were her anchor in a storm. And in that moment, you knew the only thing that mattered was her feeling your presence, your unwavering support.

Vi

Vi’s mind was still trapped in the ring, replaying the final moments of that crucial fight. She had bet everything on it—her money, her pride, her reputation. Everything hung by a thread, and she had lost. The cheers had faded, leaving only the echo of failure resonating in her head.

She limped back to her hideout, her knuckles bloodied and her jaw clenched. Dropping onto the worn-out sofa, she let out a frustrated growl, covering her face with a hand as she tried to contain the fury and humiliation. She had risked so much, and now it was all gone.

The whispers of her defeat spread like wildfire. You knew Vi wasn’t one to admit defeat easily, nor to ask for help. So, with a heart full of concern, you went to find her, worried about her state.

The door creaked open as you stepped inside. "Vi," you called gently, finding her on the couch, shoulders tense and gaze fixed on the floor. You approached cautiously and sat on the floor in front of her, your chin resting on your hands as you looked at her intently. "Are you okay?"

"I don’t need your pity," she snapped, her voice sharp but laced with vulnerability. "I’m fine. Just... need a moment."

"Vi," you said softly, "it’s just one loss. You’re incredible in the ring, babe, but you can’t expect to win every time. Besides, we learn more from our mistakes than from our victories. It’s okay."

"No, it’s not okay," she shot back, finally lifting her head to meet your gaze, her blue eyes filled with frustration. "I bet everything on that fight. Everything. And now I have nothing."

"That’s why I’m here," you responded, sitting beside her and gently taking her bloodied hand in yours, inspecting it with care. "You don’t have to carry this alone. Let me help you."

"I don’t want your help," she protested, trying to pull her hand away, but you held on firmly. "I don’t need saving. I can handle this."

"Vi, don’t be stubborn," you chided, your voice firm yet warm. "I care about you, and I’m not going to stand by while you drown over something we can fix together."

Her gaze softened, a mix of wounded pride and unspoken gratitude in her eyes. "I can’t take your money," she muttered, looking down again. "It’s not fair to you."

"Babe, if the roles were reversed, I know you’d do the same for me," you reminded her. "This isn’t about fairness or debt. It’s about caring for someone I love."

The last word hung in the air, making Vi look up again. "You... love me?" she whispered, as if it was something she hadn’t allowed herself to hear before.

"Love you? I’m crazy about you, woman!" you admitted with a chuckle, gently squeezing her hand. "And because of that, I’m going to help you through this. Take the money, just this once. It’s not weakness to accept help, Vi. It’s strength to know when you need someone."

She let out a deep sigh, her body relaxing slightly as the tension began to ease. "Alright," she murmured finally, her voice barely a whisper. "I’ll take your help... just this once."

"That’s all I needed to hear," you said, smiling softly as you caressed her hand. "We’ll get through this, together."

Vi looked at you, and for the first time that night, a faint smile curved her lips. "Thank you," she said, leaning toward you. Her hand suddenly slid to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze.

You looked at her, a mix of confusion and amusement on your face. She just shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"What? It’s my way of saying thanks," Vi defended, following it up with a loud slap.

Laughing, you climbed onto her lap, leaning in close to her mouth, "Well, if I’d known your gratitude was this charming, I’d hope for favors more often."

Vi leaned in and kissed you, a tender kiss that spoke of gratitude and something deeper, needing no words. "I love you," she murmured against your lips.

"And I love you," you whispered, your lips still brushing hers.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn's office was silent, the only sound breaking the stillness was the soft scratch of her pencil against paper as she reviewed the reports that had come in. It had been a particularly difficult day for her. The weight of the decisions she'd had to make hung heavily on her shoulders, and her mind couldn't stop replaying the latest case she had been handling. Even though she tried to maintain her composure, you knew Caitlyn wasn't invincible.

You approached cautiously, gently tapping on the door before stepping inside. "Cait," you called softly, seeing her immersed in her work, her eyes glued to the desk, but her rigid posture betrayed her exhaustion.

She looked up and forced a smile. "Don’t worry, everything’s under control," she said, her voice slightly tenser than usual.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watched her with concern. "I know you're working hard, Cait, but this isn’t just about work, is it?"

She didn’t respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as if fighting herself not to admit what was clearly troubling her. "It’s nothing. Just... tough cases. Nothing you need to worry about."

You knew her too well. Something wasn’t right. Caitlyn always maintained her facade of strength, never showing vulnerability, but you knew even she had limits. You decided to step closer, gently removing the papers from her hands and sitting on her desk, right in front of her, catching her off guard. Her hands instinctively found your thighs, her fingers pressing into your skin as a silent sign of her pent-up stress.

"You're not doing this alone tonight, Cait," you told her firmly. "I know you feel the pressure, but you don’t have to carry it all by yourself."

She tried to smile, but the gesture only highlighted her fatigue. "I can't afford to show weakness. Everyone expects me to have the answers."

"That’s precisely what makes you human," you replied softly, cradling her face and appreciating her delicate features. "The burden of leadership, the tough decisions... it can’t all rest on you. If you need a break, you’ll take one. If you need to talk, I’m here."

Caitlyn remained silent, her gaze now locked onto yours, as if considering your words for the first time. You could see her defenses slowly crumbling, her breathing easing into a calmer rhythm. "Sometimes I feel like no one understands... how hard it is to keep everything together, always being the one expected to know what to do."

"I understand," you said, gently holding the hand that gripped your thigh. "And you don’t always have to have all the answers, Cait. It’s okay to feel lost. You can lean on me for these things and anything else."

She didn’t speak for a long moment, simply watching you, and for once, her face displayed a vulnerability she rarely showed. Finally, she sighed, letting the tension in her face melt away.

"I know," she murmured, almost as a confession. "Sometimes it’s just hard not to feel like a burden."

"You’re never a burden to me," you assured her, leaning in and wrapping your arms around her, your fingers tenderly running through her hair. She responded with a soft sigh of relief. "You’re the strongest person I know, Cait. And that strength doesn’t make you invulnerable. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You carry so much responsibility and expectation, and you handle it as best you can. You can share that with me too, love. I’m not in your life just to enjoy your company and admire your beautiful face."

With an intense gaze, Caitlyn gently squeezed your hand, displaying a rare tenderness. "Thank you," she whispered, her tone much softer than usual. "Thank you for this. For always being there when I need it. For knowing what I need when I don’t even know myself."

You moved a little closer and, without thinking, kissed her forehead, a warm and comforting gesture. "I’ll always be here, Cait. You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to rest in your presence. And although the day's worries wouldn't vanish immediately, there was something about that small gesture, that silent connection between you two, that made her feel less alone. She knew that, no matter what, she would always have a refuge in you.

Jayce

The door creaked open, and instantly, the tension that Jayce carried with him filled the room like an unwelcome guest. He stood in the doorway, his figure worn down as if each step of his day had chipped away at his strength. His face was a canvas of frustration and exhaustion, the lines of weariness on his forehead barely hidden by his tousled hair. The warm light of home contrasted sharply with the cold night air, but even the comforting ambiance seemed powerless against the heavy burden he bore.

Without a word, you moved towards him, your presence a sanctuary in the storm he was weathering. You gently took his cold hands in yours and led him to the couch, where he sank down with a deep, weary sigh. The weight of the day clung to him, a cloak of responsibility and fatigue. He barely acknowledged you as you spoke.

"Rough day?" Your voice was gentle, laced with concern.

Jayce exhaled sharply, his exhaustion evident as he turned his head to you. "More than you can imagine." His tone was rough, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Viktor and I... the experiment in the lab was a disaster. Then, the Council meeting... a complete mess. I’m not even sure how I made it back here tonight." His voice cracked for a moment, followed by a bitter laugh. "And tomorrow? I have to give that damned speech to the entire city. I haven’t even started writing it."

The air felt thick, laden with everything he couldn't put into words. You squeezed his hand, holding it with a tenderness that cut through the fog of his mind. "Breathe, Jayce. You don’t have to solve everything at once. One step at a time."

Instinctively, you sat behind him, guiding him until his back rested against your chest. You began to massage his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly seep from his muscles. Each movement of your fingers seemed to ease his burdens, though his sighs suggested the thoughts still swirled in his mind.

"I’ll help you with the speech," you offered softly. "We’ll write it together. You don’t have to face it all alone."

Jayce closed his eyes briefly, as if clinging to your words to prevent drowning in his thoughts. "But... it all depends on me. If I screw this up, the consequences are massive. I can’t afford to fail." His voice broke, and he sat up abruptly, anxiety gripping him once more.

"It’s just a speech, Jayce. It doesn’t define you." You wrapped your arms around his torso, holding him from behind. "What matters most to me is that it doesn’t destroy you. The city needs you, yes. But you need yourself too."

A long sigh escaped his chest, a release of some of the weight he'd been carrying. "How do you stay so calm through all of this? How do you have the patience to listen to my problems over and over?" His tone softened, a realization of what your presence meant to him.

"Because I love you, you big lug. And because I respect you," you said without hesitation. "Now... first things first. Dinner. I made your favorite." You whispered in his ear, the warmth of your embrace surrounding him, offering a sliver of peace. "Then, I’ll draw you a bath. You need to relax, to stop thinking about everything for a while. We’ll have dinner together, and afterward, we’ll stay up as long as you need. I’ll help with the speech. And if you need to rehearse all night, we will. The important thing is you’re not facing it alone. I’m here, Jayce, because I know how much this means to you."

Jayce let the silence hang for a moment, absorbing your words, your support the anchor he desperately needed. Slowly, he turned to look at you, his face finally showing signs of easing. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, a small pout forming on his lips.

"Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my spoiled giant baby," you teased with a soft laugh, cupping his face with care.

Jayce chuckled, a low, grateful sound that was music to your ears, and you hugged him tighter, feeling the anxiety that had gripped him start to dissipate. "Can we stay like this a little longer?" he asked quietly, his tone vulnerable, more human than ever.

"Of course, love," you whispered. "There’s no rush tonight."

And there, between tender laughs and promises of unwavering support, time seemed to pause. In that moment, there was only the two of you, the warmth of home, and the certainty that, no matter what the next day brought, you would face it together.

Ekko

The sound of gears grinding and tools sparking filled Ekko's workshop, a familiar symphony that usually brought him a sense of calm. But today, the rhythm was frantic, almost as if he believed that focusing on the intricate mechanical details could help him outrun the weight pressing down on his heart. It wasn’t working.

"Ekko, what’s wrong?" Your voice was soft, almost a whisper, yet it cut through the tension hanging thick in the air. You could sense something was off, not just from the hurried way he moved but from the pallor that had taken over his face in the past few hours.

He didn’t answer right away. His fingers continued their precise dance over the wires and components, but there was a distant look in his eyes, a clear sign that his mind was far from the task at hand. Finally, he looked up, and though he tried to hide it, you could see the frustration and pain etched into his features.

"Things are... out of control," he admitted, his voice heavy. "The people of Zaun keep dying, and we can’t do anything about it. The illnesses are spreading, the air is becoming unbreathable, and the solutions... they seem further away than ever. How am I supposed to lead them when I have nothing to offer?"

His question lingered in the air, a cry of desperation in the stillness. Ekko had borne the weight of leading the Firelights since their inception. It was his strength, his refuge, yet also his greatest burden. Every day, he witnessed more of his people falling victim to the oppression and the harsh realities of Zaun, the toxic air swallowing those he cared about, and the seeming futility of their efforts gnawed at his resolve. What could one do when everything seemed stacked against them?

"Ekko," you approached him, gently taking his hands in yours. "Listen to me. I know what you're thinking. I know it feels like everything is collapsing, like there’s no way out. But you're not alone in this. You have the Firelights, and you have me. Caitlyn Kiramman might be able to help with this problem."

Ekko raised an eyebrow, confused. He knew Caitlyn, as an Enforcer, symbolized the oppressive system that had kept Zaun in misery, but he also knew you didn’t speak lightly. You must have had a plan.

"I don’t trust Piltover," Ekko muttered, his tone firm. "Or their damn Enforcers. How am I supposed to ask someone like Caitlyn for help? After everything they’ve done to us?"

"I know," you said, gently stroking his hands to calm him, "but hear me out. You're not just asking Caitlyn for help. You’re asking the person who owes me a few favors. Trust me. I think we can secure some supplies, maybe some of the medicines we need, at least to keep us going for a while. Something to help the Firelights keep fighting. Don’t see it as surrendering, Ekko; it’s a step towards giving us a real chance to make our voices heard."

For a moment, Ekko stared at the ground, lost in thought. It was clear he struggled to trust anyone outside his circle, especially someone like Caitlyn, who embodied Piltover’s oppressive power. But your words resonated with him, and for the first time that day, something inside him eased slightly.

"Maybe you’re right," he finally said, his voice low, as if only partially convinced. "But this... it can’t just be words. We need to do something real, something that actually makes a difference."

"We will," you assured him with a soft smile, trying to instill a bit of hope. "Together, step by step. Let’s start by talking to Caitlyn and see what we can secure. I don’t know how, but I believe we’ll make it happen."

Ekko looked at you, and for a moment, everything in his expression changed. The usual anger gave way to a mixture of gratitude and, perhaps, a hint of relief. He was exhausted, but the idea that not everything was lost gave him a tiny spark of hope.

"Thank you, babe," he murmured, his voice softer than before. "I don’t know how you do it. You always know what to say."

"That’s because I’ve learned how to deal with your stubborn, grumpy self," you said with a light laugh. "Now, how about we take a stroll through the city? Maybe a few hours of disconnecting will help."

A trace of a smile appeared on his face, though still tinged with fatigue. "What? Are you planning to make me forget all this by tagging the walls with graffiti?"

"Exactly," you responded with a mischievous grin. "That way, at least for a while, we can forget the world and do whatever we want."

Ekko finally gave in, his soft laugh filling the air as he grabbed his hoverboard. "You know, that sounds like a great idea. Let’s go before I change my mind."

And as you wandered the streets of Zaun, the weight on his shoulders didn’t entirely vanish, but for a while, Ekko could relax, paint his frustrations on the walls, and most importantly, remember that he wasn’t alone. Sometimes, all it took was stepping back and breathing, even if just for a moment.

Silco

The air in Silco's office was heavy, thick with the unmistakable scent of Zaun: metal, sweat, and burnt chemicals. Yet beyond those familiar odors, the room was saturated with the tension of recent events. The sting of failure clung to him, unsettling the usually composed mastermind. His meticulously laid plans had unraveled, and while his followers proclaimed loyalty, cracks in their devotion were becoming apparent. Zaun teetered on the brink of internal rebellion. The Firelights, the Enforcers, even the streets themselves seemed to be slipping through his fingers.

But what truly unsettled him, what gnawed at his very core, was the ever-present specter of betrayal, the fear of losing those who mattered most. In these moments, when chaos felt imminent, you chose to enter.

Silco stood with his back to you, staring out at the city’s dim lights through the window. You could sense the disquiet within him. His silhouette was somber, almost ghostly, with one hand resting on the glass. He seemed like a man who had lost faith in everything around him. Without hesitation, you approached him with a calmness that contrasted starkly with the storm raging within him.

"Silco," you began, your voice gentle but resolute. You refused to let his fragility consume him, not now. "We've faced this before. You don’t have to bear it all alone."

At first, he remained silent. The tension in his frame was palpable, and you could tell he was fighting a battle he wasn’t ready to share. Yet, you knew that struggle all too well. Beneath his layers of hatred and ambition lay a man as broken and vulnerable as any other.

Finally, he turned toward you, his eyes, usually burning with disdain, now dulled. "You don’t understand," he said, his voice low, roughened by a restrained fury. "This isn’t like before. It’s not just about winning anymore. It’s about maintaining control, about not losing everything. If I fail now, all we’ve built will be for nothing. What’s looming isn’t just a challenge—it’s war, and I need to be ready."

You stepped closer, studying the exhaustion etched into his face. His words were a glimpse into the turmoil that consumed him. "You will be ready. We will be ready. But isolating yourself in this downward spiral won’t help."

Silco’s gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, vulnerability surfaced. He appeared more human, less the monster Zaun feared. But his pride fought to keep that part of him hidden.

"I don’t need your pity," he said, though his words lacked conviction, a feeble defense against the truth you were unveiling. "Spare me the empty reassurances."

"They’re not empty," you replied, your voice steady. "I know what you’re feeling. This isn’t just about controlling Zaun. This is about you."

A heavy silence followed, thick with unspoken truths. Silco’s brow furrowed, not in anger but in contemplation. "It’s a war I can’t win. The city hates me, even my own daughter—"

"Don’t speak of her as if you’re some monster," you interrupted gently but firmly. "Jinx needs you, and you need her. This war isn’t just against Piltover, Silco. It’s against yourself. And if you keep fighting it alone, you will lose."

The room was still, the weight of your words settling in the air. Silco’s expression softened, touched by a realization he couldn’t deny. He wasn’t accustomed to being seen so clearly, to having his inner battles laid bare.

You took another step forward and, without allowing him time to withdraw, you took his hand. "You don’t have to do this alone," you whispered. "Not now, not ever."

For a brief moment, conflict flickered across his features, but then it happened—he relented. It wasn’t the surrender of a defeated man but of someone willing to trust, if only for a moment, that there was more to life than his solitary fight.

"I don’t know why you persist in keeping me upright," he murmured, his voice softer, laced with weariness. "Sometimes… sometimes it feels like too much."

"It’s not," you assured him without hesitation. "We’ll face it together. I won’t let you fall."

Silco said nothing more, but he didn’t pull away as you held his hand more firmly, a silent acceptance of your comfort. And for the first time in a long while, the cold steel of his demeanor cracked, if only for a fleeting second.

Mel

Mel's balcony was as sleek and cold, a testament to her meticulous nature. The soft glow of lanterns cast a gentle light over the cityscape, illuminating the endless sea of Piltover's lights below. Yet, amidst the serenity of the night, an unseen storm brewed within her. Tonight, her mind wasn't consumed with political maneuvers or strategic plans. Something far deeper gnawed at her: the weight of her ambitions had begun to manifest in ways she hadn't anticipated, threatening to fracture the carefully constructed facade of her life.

She stood by the railing, gazing out at the city that never slept, as if the twinkling lights could somehow chase away the growing void in her heart. You could see it—the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers gripped the railing a little too tightly. She was a picture of composed authority, yet the subtle cracks in her armor betrayed the turmoil within.

"Mel..." Your voice, soft yet firm, broke the silence. You approached from behind, your footsteps light but deliberate. You didn't need to be loud; she had always been attuned to your presence, as if you existed in a part of her consciousness she couldn't ignore.

Mel turned slowly, her face a mask of unyielding calm, but her eyes... her eyes told a different story. They held a flicker of vulnerability, a silent plea she wasn't ready to voice. "What is it?" Her voice was cool, almost detached, but you knew better. The detachment was a shield, one she had crafted over years of political warfare.

"What’s wrong?" you asked again, your gaze unwavering as you closed the distance between you. You could sense her struggle, her reluctance to admit that something was amiss. "I can see it, Mel. You're not okay."

She sighed—a sound so heavy it seemed to carry the weight of the city. It wasn't frustration; it was the exhaustion of someone who had carried too much for too long. "It’s Piltover. My role in the Council... I can't keep up with it all," she admitted, her words slow, measured, as if each one was a reluctant confession. "I’ve been playing this game for so long, but the pieces are moving in directions I can’t control. And..."

Her voice faltered, and she didn't need to continue. You understood. This wasn't about Piltover alone. It was about her, about the toll her ambitions had taken on her soul. Here, on this balcony, she wasn't the indomitable Mel Medarda. She was a woman, weary and yearning for something she couldn't quite name.

"Mel, not everything needs to be under control. Not everything needs to be perfect," you said gently, stepping closer. "You can handle what’s happening in Piltover, but you don’t have to carry it all on your own."

Her eyes darted away, as if looking at you would make her break. She was so used to being the one in control, to bearing the burdens without complaint. "And if I fail... what then? What’s left after all of this? I've given everything to Piltover… everything."

Her voice trembled with a sadness that cut through you. Despite her steely exterior, you knew there was a part of her that longed for something more—connection, peace, perhaps even love. But the world she had built around herself left little room for such indulgences.

"If you fail, Mel, you’ll have the chance to start over. You don’t have to keep fighting for something that's slipping through your fingers," you said, your voice steady as you reached for her. "Sometimes, letting go of what we fear losing the most is what sets us free."

Mel's eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a vulnerability she rarely showed. She wasn’t used to conversations like this, to empathy. But in your gaze, she found something she hadn’t seen in a long time: safety, support, and perhaps... the promise of something different. Something better.

"I know it’s not easy," you continued, your hand gently brushing her arm. "But you don’t have to carry the weight of Piltover alone. You have people who respect you, who admire you. There are other ways to move forward without losing yourself in the process."

The silence that followed was thick, but not oppressive. It was as if the night itself was holding its breath, waiting for her response. For a moment, Mel said nothing. Then, her lips, always so carefully set in lines of authority, softened. "And if I fail… what happens to you?"

"You won’t fail," you said with a conviction that only you could have. "But even if you did, I’d be right here, helping you rebuild. Because what really matters isn’t the power or the control. What really matters is you, Mel."

For a second, she looked at you as if seeing you for the first time. The iron-willed woman everyone knew, the strategist, the leader, was now gazing at you with a newfound sense of recognition. And in that moment, she allowed herself a rare indulgence: she let her guard down.

"Maybe... maybe it’s not always about winning," she murmured, more to herself than to you. "Maybe you're right."

You smiled softly, knowing that Mel had just taken a step towards something beyond ambition—towards her humanity.

Sevika

The night had fallen with an oppressive stillness, but Sevika couldn’t find peace. The hours had dragged her into a whirlwind of stress and frustration. Each minute felt heavier than the last, and the air around her seemed thick, as if the city itself was pressing down on her chest. The decisions she had to make, the moves she had to plan, the constant need to watch over and protect her people… all of it had left her exhausted. But what weighed her down the most was the lack of control over her own life.

The shadows of the streets seemed to stretch out, enveloping her with an invisible pressure. Silco, as if things weren’t bad enough, was more erratic than ever, his paranoia brushing the edges of madness. To top it off, Jinx had played one of her twisted jokes: locking her in a room with a bomb that looked ready to explode. Sevika had been on the brink of death, only to discover that the bomb was a cruel joke, the kind only Jinx could conjure. If she had the time, she would have made sure the girl paid for it. She despised feeling vulnerable. But there was more. She had to deal with some of Silco’s men, and her day culminated with a direct punch to the face, leaving a visible mark on her otherwise stoic features.

On any other day, Sevika might have sought solace or at least retreated into the quiet of solitude, but today was different. No matter what she did, the sense of losing control gnawed at her insides. She needed to see you. She needed your presence, your calm way of looking at her and making her feel that everything, even if just for a while, would be okay.

Finally, the door creaked open. The sound of your footsteps was a balm to her weary spirit, and Sevika lifted her gaze. The damp night air lent a melancholic intensity to her eyes, now etched with fatigue and disdain. Though she tried to maintain her tough exterior, you quickly noticed the bruise marking her face.

“What happened?” Your voice, soft yet filled with concern, echoed in the room. Sevika tried to muster a smile, but it was futile.

“Just another day, you know?” she rasped, moving to lean against the table. She wasn’t about to crumble in front of you, but the exasperation in her tone was unmistakable. “Silco’s paranoid as ever. Jinx pulled one of her idiotic pranks… locked me in a room with a fake bomb about to explode. I thought I’d die there, amidst confetti and laughter. And if that wasn’t enough, one of Silco’s guys managed to land a punch on me.”

Your gaze, laced with worry and tenderness, softened instantly. You stepped forward, cupping her face gently, trying to ease the storm swirling inside her. Sevika stood still, unresponsive at first, but the hard lines of her face began to relax, even if only slightly.

“Why didn’t you call me?” you asked, your eyes never leaving hers, your words carrying a silent concern. You knew she hated appearing weak, but it didn’t matter; you would never see her that way. Sevika closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh.

“You know I don’t like to worry you.” Her tone was sharp, but softer than before. She could feel how your warmth affected her in ways she wasn’t ready to admit, but needed more than she was willing to acknowledge.

Without missing a beat, you acted. With a small smile, you stepped back a little, creating some space to prepare something that might bring her some comfort.

“Tonight, I’m making something special for my strong and sexy warrior,” you said, a mix of tenderness and teasing in your voice. “It’s not much, but I know you’ll like it.” You headed to the kitchen, and instead of a typical meal, you decided on something you knew would make Sevika smile: a homemade chocolate cupcake, with a hint of vanilla and a soft cream topping. While the sweet treat took shape, you thought about how this small gesture might lighten the night. The smell of freshly baked chocolate began to fill the air.

Sevika raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a slight smile. “A cupcake?” she asked, almost playfully, though her voice held a softness rarely heard. “Am I a child needing comfort now?”

“Maybe,” you replied, smiling as you set the table. “Sometimes we all need something simple and sweet.” You playfully tapped her nose.

With the cupcake served and a cup of aromatic tea, the two of you sat together, letting the calm settle for a moment. As she savored the cupcake, your fingers brushed hers gently, as if that simple touch could convey something deeper. Sevika’s gaze, usually so hard and closed off, softened as it met yours.

“Thank you,” she whispered, almost with a humility that was unlike her. “I needed this more than I thought.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said with a gentle smile, intertwining your fingers with hers.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter what was happening in the outside world. For an instant, everything else faded away. Only that small space between the two of you existed, where love and understanding felt like the answer to all the burdens Sevika carried within.

[lokidjarin-7567]

I Hate It Here

Kang Dae-ho x Reader After joining a mysterious game of life and death, you find solace in the company of another player, one so vibrant and optimistic it draws your mind from the horrors that await you. fem!reader, fluff, usual content warnings for Squid Game, guns, language, death etc, obvious spoilers for Squid Game season 2, mostly edited, not perfectly accurate to the episodes but close enough 5k words Hi all! If anyone else is like me, I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Squid Game since watching season two, and wrote this piece on my fav this season! I still have a poll up on my page for what other characters I should write about (accidentally set it to a week rather than a day oops), so if you have any other requests, drop a vote there, and specific suggestions in my comments or asks if you have any. This also happens to be the longest fluff piece I've ever written, so I hope its ok! Will add another chapter if people like. Enjoy <3 TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You hadn’t even considered that the weird guy who started shouting before the first game started would be telling the truth. That you could actually die here for money, or for entertainment, or for whatever the twisted fuckers who brought you here wanted. You figured he was just vying for attention, or trying to scare you all into backing out. Then you heard a gunshot.

After that moment, you followed every piece of advice he shouted out, satisfied he knew something you didn’t. You made it over the finish line, shocked and traumatised, thanks only to hiding behind someone a lot taller than you. You immediately collapsed on the dirt panting with exhaustion, a few tears falling from your eyes. What had you gotten yourself into?

You were relieved when Player 456 called for a vote to end the games, and even more relieved at the realisation that his number was only a little after your own. He was called to vote first, red X marking his jersey, and you followed suit just after him, lucky as Player 452 that you could get your voting over and done with quickly. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, and you returned the favour, moving to stand beside him. You quietly celebrated with him when a player chose your side, and you watched as he tried to talk to the remaining people, explaining how he’d played before. Then you consoled him when it didn’t work. It came down to the last vote, the stress almost too much to bear, but as Player 001 was adorned in blue light from his selection, you realised you were stuck here, and you were close to crying again.

Player 456 automatically took you under his wing. There seemed to be another player that he knew, so you sat with them as you ate the provided food, dejected at the outcome, but grateful to at least have found some allies. You were trying to ask a few subtle questions about the game, but other players kept approaching your group. You shrunk back a little, avoiding the attention that came with being around the previous winner of the games, listening as people spoke of their admiration for him, and grilled him for information as to what was happening next.

You hadn’t noticed at first - a voice speaking from behind you - and honestly, you didn’t want to turn around, still feeling shy and awkward. Eventually, though, the crowd dissipated, and the source of the voice jumped down from one of the bunks. He was tall and lean, shoulder length hair pulled into a half-up half-down style, strays falling around his temples and framing his face. His smile was infectious, carrying from his lips to his eyes, which were rich brown in colour and full of joy and enthusiasm. You were transfixed by him as he introduced himself as Kang Dae-ho, quickly bonding with the man Player 456 knew thanks to their shared military history. He was the antithesis of you - so outgoing, so enthusiastic, so full of optimism. Even down to the blue circle that adorned his uniform; on most, it was a bad look, voting to continue at the risk of others, but on him, it seemed courageous.

His chattiness was as contagious as his smile, and as he joined your group to eat, you found yourself immersed in conversation with him: about the game, about the other players, about the members of your little makeshift crew. Even watching on and cheering together as Player 001 took down a few bullies in front of everyone. He was comfortable to be around. A welcome distraction that helped you forget where you were, or what you might have to do as the days passed.

And it was working. Until, after a while, the conversation lulled momentarily, and you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to darker places. What the game might be. What it would involve. If it would ever really get as brutal as Gi-hun said it might…

You felt a gentle nudge on your arm, snapping you out of your spell at the sound of your name falling from Dae-ho’s lips.

“You good?” He muttered quietly, a hint of concern on his face. You had been talking for a few hours now, and you had done everything in your power to keep up your positive front, to pretend you were happy to be here but it was fading fast.

“Yeah, I’m just…”

“Scared?” A sigh of relief fell from your lips.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, glancing around to see where the others were, before leaning in closer.

“Me too, honestly. Just trying not to show it…” There was a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that you could tell wasn’t fake. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.

“Dae-ho…” you muttered, gesturing to the blue badge that signified his vote, “why did you choose to stay?” He shrugged, glancing back at the crowd of people who were starting to prepare for lights out.

“I need the money, and honestly, when I voted, I didn’t know anyone here. I figured it’s not like I’m personally killing anyone. No harm no foul, right? It’s just the way a soldier thinks, I guess. You don’t know who you’re shooting, just that they’re in the way of your victory. But now…” he paused a beat, his eyes darting over to where Jung-bae and Gi-hun were sitting, deep in conversation, before landing on you, eyes scanning your face with a curious intensity. “I’ll do everything to keep my team alive.” You couldn’t help but laugh coldly. The sentiment was sweet, sure, but there were no guarantees.

“From what Gi-hun told us, it might not be a team game. It could be something completely out of our control…”

“I’m hopeful!” He exclaimed, the optimistic, puppy-like demeanour back as he grinned at you.

“I’m glad someone is.” The intercom informed you that it was 10 minutes until lights out, and you couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t looking forward to that - trying to sleep in a dark room filled with hundreds of people you didn’t know. Desperate people.

“Let’s find our beds for the night?” Dae-ho prompted, standing and offering his hand to help you up. You took it, smiling at him thankfully and glancing around for the other members of your team, palm feeling cold when his touch left it. “Look, there are two next to each other just above where Gi-hun has set his things down. We can bunk close together so you know you’re safe. I’m a light sleeper!’ His constant proactivity in making you feel safe and comfortable was warming your heart, but simultaneously causing a bout of nausea and anxiety that rose from your gut. One of you might die tomorrow in these twisted games. He would betray you in a heartbeat to keep himself alive, regardless of his sentiments. And despite that, you're already starting to trust him.

He was right though; he was a light sleeper. A few hours in and you hadn’t slept at all yet, fear clouding every corner of your mind, and the only thing soothing you was the soft purr of his snores. Eventually, you couldn’t help but sit upright, a quiet but frustrated sigh escaping your lips as your hands ran across your face and through your hair. His voice muttered your name, and you glanced over in shock to see him slowly sitting up in his bed, his tired eyes raking over you with concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You pulled your legs to your chest, nodding at him before resting your head onto your knees.

“Can’t sleep.” You muttered as a sorry excuse of an explanation, but it seemed to convey what you really meant, his head cocked in worry.

“Can I help at all?” You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him that you'd be ok, but he continued before you had a chance. “Maybe you should try falling asleep before me. I’m going to be awake for a while now anyway, I can keep watch.” You were going to protest, to tell him to rest up and keep his energy for tomorrow, but honestly… it might help you. Just knowing he was keeping an eye out could get you a few hours of rest at least.

“…would that be ok?” You asked timidly, but he nodded with his now signature enthusiasm.

“Of course! I told you I’d protect you, I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Please, just get comfortable.” Your body instinctively laid down as close to him as possible, only the bars between the bunks separating you, curling up on the small bed and settling in. You closed your eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but the moment you did, panic overtook you. It was irrational, sure, but before, when you couldn’t see him, you could hear him snoring so you knew he was still there. Now, it was dead silent. Your arm reached forwards instinctively, avoiding the metal posts to meet the soft fabric of his uniform, fingers latching on securely. You blushed at your own response to fear, grateful to the dark surrounding you, but as you felt him shuffle closer, allowing you a firmer grip, all of your nerves dissipated, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.

You woke to loud classical music and the intercom announcing that the next game will be starting shortly. You blinked your eyes open, groaning already at the aches forming in your body and the speed of your heartbeat at the thought of the horrors today might bring. But then, you felt a hand softly close around your forearm, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You glanced down to see where your hand was still clasped around the edge of his T-shirt, the back of your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach, his own arm draped atop yours from where he lay on your side. You blushed furiously, untangling your arm from his and sitting up as casually as you could manage, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to hide your red cheeks.

“Hey…” he muttered sleepily, shifting to sit up too, and your body automatically turned to him, as though after just a few hours of knowing him, you were programmed to seek his voice out and follow it. “Remember what I said, ok? Stick by me today. If it’s Dalgona like Gi-hun said, pick triangle, and if not, we’ll work it out.” You couldn’t do much but nod, nerves and fear clouding your senses. You just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, climbing out of bed and lining up with the rest of the players in the centre of the room. When the guards starting walking, you followed wordlessly until you reached the game room, the only thing keeping you from breaking down was the knowledge that Dae-ho was right behind you.

Gi-hun’s confused expression when you entered the room confirmed everything you needed to know - you wouldn’t be playing Dalgona today. However, Dae-ho’s optimism from the day before was well-placed, as the speakers announced that players should arrange themselves into teams of five. It was an easy pick. At some point during the night or morning, Gi-hun had reconciled with Player 001, and he honestly seemed like a solid addition to the team. He had physical skill - you’d seen that during the fight - and he had a seriousness about him that made you feel confident.

They announced the games, and your heart dropped. As the only girl on the team, you knew they’d ask you to play gonggi, and it just wasn’t something you’d played. As the inevitable question came, you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry, I never had anyone to teach it to me.” Your heart broke at the disappointment on your teammates faces.

“I can play gonggi.” Dae-ho piped up from beside you, and you breathed out in relief.

“An ex-marine playing gonggi?” You heard Jung-bae pipe up, and you couldn’t help but frown at his comment. You could immediately hear the pride drain from Dae-ho’s voice as he replied, and you glared at the older man, hoping to quietly convey your disappointment in him.

“I have four older sisters, so I played with them sometimes.” Jung-bae started to backtrack and encourage him, but you couldn’t help but think about why Dae-ho felt like he had to defend himself. It was such an endearing trait - a softer side that you valued and trusted in an ally - and yet he was explaining why it was ok to be good at a kid’s game. It made you feel sad for him. You interrupted Jung-bae’s forced sentiment slightly harshly.

“I’m good at flying stone. I used to bet the boys in my class that I could beat them and won every time.” Jung-bae looked as though he was going to say something, but Dae-ho spoke up first with a wide smile that calmed your nerves.

“Perfect! We’re lucky to have an expert with us. What about the rest of you?”

The rest of the team decided their roles quickly, Jung-bae sarcastically stating if he couldn’t play flying stone like he wanted, ddakji was his next best choice. You just shrugged. Gi-hun settled on jegi, and Player 001 seemed happy with what was left to him, so now, all you had to do was wait.

The first race was awful. It felt like a car crash you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from as the second player in their team missed in flying stone over and over and over again. Your team were discussing strategies based on how they were doing, how missing the stone eats up time as you have to fetch it, but you just felt a lump form in the back of your throat. If you failed this, all of you would die. The timer hit zero as he finally struck the stone, and you ripped your eyes away just in time, covering your ears and staring at the floor as the sound of gunshots ricocheted throughout the room. You eventually opened your eyes as the pink guards carried large gift boxes into the room that you could only assume were coffins for the dead, and turned to glance at Dae-ho in horror. He wasn't looking at his surroundings, practicing his part of the game with some small stones, but there was a noticeable shake in his hands that hadn’t been there before.

It was hours before it was your turn, and you were already exhausted before even playing. Watching everyone else, being so invested in each and every person’s survival, constantly thinking about how you could improve on their methods for their own attempt - it had taken its toll. And now, it was finally time for you to do it. You looped your arms around Jung-bae’s and Dae-ho’s, ankles already bound together, and he gave you one last smile of encouragement before you set off. You moved in accordance to Gi-hun’s shouts, reaching the ddakji station before you knew it. It only took two attempts and it flipped, the excitement of your group palpable as you continued to the next game. Your turn.

Your hands were shaking as you took the stone from the guard, almost so much that you dropped the damn thing. You tried to breathe deeply, to calm yourself down, but your mind wouldn’t stop returning to that first race, to the player who missed over and over…

Warm hands surrounded your own, snapping you out of your thoughts and grounding you. Dae-ho spoke, and you looked up at him, fear etched into your features.

“Breathe. Remember how you used to do it. You’re just on the playground winning a bet. Steady your hands, breathe, and throw.” You nodded along as he spoke, breaths returning to normal just long enough to compose yourself, crouching slightly. Like a skipping stone. As it left your hand, you cursed quietly. You were worried that it was too high, not quite the right angle, but by some miracle, it caught the top of the stone, toppling it just with the lightest touch. You could’ve cried as the Circle guard raised his hands above his head to mimic the shape on his mask, relieved that you wouldn’t be at fault if your team didn’t make it.

Dae-ho’s arm was like a vice as you made your way to the next game, his own nerves now evident. He gathered the gonggi in his hand, feeling the weight of them, and you and Player 001 leant slightly away from him to give him the space he needed. Jung-bae started to speak, throwing some generic words of encouragement his way, but you shushed him quickly. He’d told you earlier that he concentrated better when it was silent, so you intended to make sure that he had the conditions he needed. You watched as he let out a breath in preparation, then began, moving with speed and accuracy that left you in awe. As he held out his fist to the guard, and they approved, you couldn’t help but quickly wrap your arm around him, a short celebration before moving to the next section.

It took Player 001 a long time to complete the Spinning Top. You couldn’t help but flinch every time he failed, glancing up at the time in worry as he cursed himself out over and over. Gi-hun set him straight, calming him down quickly and reminding him of everything at risk, and he finally succeeded. The last portion of the race passed in a blur of seconds, Gi-hun quickly completing Jegi with the help of Player 001 before stumbling over the finish line, unexpected tears falling from your eyes in relief. You had actually made it, all of you had…

Gunshots rung out in the room, and you screamed, instinctively ducking down, your hands flying to your ears. It wasn’t until your heartbeat returned to normal and the guards started to unlock your ankle restraints that you realised Dae-ho had wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your face into his chest, your head nestled tightly in his hand and folding the rest of himself around you. You tried to move, legs now free, but he wasn’t budging. You could feel his heart hammering against his chest, breaths shaky as they fanned against your neck. You pulled your hands from your ears, pressing them to his chest and gently easing him back to standing. That seemed to snap him back to reality a little, but he looked confused, still shaking.

“Hey, Dae-ho…” you muttered, and his eyes finally settled on you, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “it’s ok, they didn’t shoot us. We’re alive, we’re ok…” You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as you said that, the confusion and fear slowly giving way to relief, breaths steadying as his eyes frantically scanned your body for signs of injury.

“We’re ok?” He whispered, and you nodded.

“We’re all good. Nobody got hurt. We did it.” He nodded, the gravity of what you said finally hitting him. He smiled, but his eyes still looked far away, like he wasn’t quite grounded yet. “Let’s go back to the dorms, yeah? Then vote to get the fuck out of here.” He just nodded again, and you led him from the room, following the rest of your team, who kept glancing back at him with a concerned expression.

By the time you got back to the main room, though, he was back to his usual enthusiastic self, excitedly discussing voting plans with the rest of your team, and encouraging everyone on their prowess in their individual games. Despite your victory, it seemed that you all wanted to leave, happy with the money as it was and wanting a fresh start outside of this hell. But as the voting commenced, it didn’t take long for the O side of the tally to tick up, and by the time you and Gi-hun got to vote - the last out of everybody - it didn’t matter. The circles had already won.

Dinner was a silent affair: Gi-hun, Player 001 and yourself eating quietly while Dae-ho kept guiltily glancing to where Jung-bae had extradited himself, his traitorous blue badge burning your eyes as though it was a bright neon sign. Eventually, he stood, pulling the older man almost by the scruff of his neck over to where the rest of you were and having a quiet, frustrated conversation with him. You sighed as Dae-ho dragged him to stand in front of you all, looking at you expectantly as Jung-bae just looked sheepish. You sighed. No point losing an ally over something you couldn’t change now.

“It’s not like you voting to leave would have changed a whole lot, we were outvoted by more than one person…” The subsequent onslaught of thanks almost made you want to take it back, but the joy and pride in Dae-ho’s face made it worth it.

While you pretty much knew each other’s names already, he decided this would be a good time for everyone to introduce themselves properly, starting with himself. He explainied that his name meant ‘big tiger’, and it made you giggle. It was fitting - a hard and brutal exterior when needed, but ultimately a softy beneath it all. You heard everyone else’s, finally learning that Player 001 was called Young-il, just like his number, but when it got to you, you had to explain that you weren’t sure what your name meant.

“We could always give it a meaning,” Gi-hun piped up, and you laughed.

“Like what?”

“Maybe… good at throwing.” You laughed again as his face crumpled in shame at his own attempt, the others chiming in to better him.

“Loud snorer!” Jung-bae exclaimed, earning an offended ‘hey’ thrown in his direction.

“Good teammate?” Young-il said, and Gi-hun scoffed.

“That one’s just lazy! What about pretty hair?”

“You don’t name someone after their hair!”

“Kind angel.” Dae-ho said proudly, and you honestly felt close to tears as everyone else stopped bickering to agree with him. You smiled thankfully as his eyes met your’s, laced with warmth and care. Maybe it would all be ok if you stayed a little longer.

"Ok, big tiger, kind angel it is."

“When we survive the next game and finally get to leave this place…” You had been talking for well over an hour now, and you had given up correcting his ‘when’ statements to ‘if’. His optimism was so sweet it hurt your teeth, but if it helped him cope with being in here, then they could rot for all you cared. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, I want to pay off my debt first…”

“Obviously.” He said with a laugh. “I mean fun stuff.” You smiled sadly, staring at your shoes.

“Honestly? I’ve been in survival mode for so long now I haven’t thought about fun stuff since I was young.” You paused a beat, glancing back up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.” He just shrugged.

“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But you should. Think of something fun, I mean. Might help you get through this.” You couldn’t fault his logic, but it took you a minute before you could remember anything.

“When I was a kid, I read about the Bahamas being a magical place where there were black and pink sand beaches, and that you could swim with pigs in the sea there… it sounded so peaceful and picturesque. I think I’d like to visit one day.”

“That sounds amazing…” he replied, wistfully looking at the ceiling. You were keeping watch together, your team peacefully sleeping under the beds behind you, and the silence their absence left seemed to be goading you to keep talking.

“We could go together. A few weeks, no stress, just sunbathing and swimming and…” It had slipped out before you could stop it, and you could feel the sentiment bouncing around the room, loud and weighty. There was a charged moment of silence, his eyes drifting from the ceiling to you, scanning your face for signs of insincerity. He wouldn’t find any.

“That would be perfect.” You smiled in relief, but it was short lived, both of you whipping your heads to the door frantically as you heard a knocking echo in the dark space. You found the source of the noise quickly though - Players 120 and 149 requesting to use the bathroom. You watched the scene play out quietly, smiling at the older woman’s dramatic display as they were finally let through by the guards, and the space fell into a stifling silence once again.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?”

“We.” He corrected you quickly, and you blushed.

“Fine, when we get out of here.” He paused, fiddling with the collar of his jacket and pulling it up to cover the lower half of his face, fingers twirling the zip as he pulled his knees to his chest.

“I want to take you to see my hometown. My family still live there, and I know my sisters would love you. They could even teach you gonggi too, if you wanted.” A tear fell to your cheek, the tenderness of it all hitting you quickly. “Maybe buy a little place there and one in Seoul, so I can visit them as much as I want. Spend weekends by the water there. Not as exciting as the Bahamas, granted…” You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard to clear the emotion from your voice. It didn’t work.

“That would be perfect.”

It scared you how much you trusted him so quickly. It hadn’t even been two days and you found yourself daydreaming of a future with him. A future where you didn’t have to do shit like this for money. A future where you both found good jobs, earning enough to keep you comfortable. A future where you could start over with the help of the money you earned here. A future worth living for. You’d always been sceptical, but maybe trauma bonding was a real thing after all.

“Dae-ho?” A sleepy voice behind you muttered, and you both turned to see Gi-hun shuffling out from beneath the one of the beds. You had all decided to make doubles when you were setting up earlier with the bunks that were already next to each other, sliding two mattresses together and having a buddy to make it safer, Jung-bae opting to sleep alone in shame. Young-il followed him out, yawning dramatically and rubbing his eyes. “You guys have been up for a long time, let us swap out for a while.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, but Young-il yawning had set you off, following suit even though you tried to suppress it. They just gave you that look dads use instead of saying ‘I told you so’. “Yeah, yeah, ok fair enough.”

Dae-ho shuffled in first, and you followed. It was cramped, sure, but there was just enough room for you to sleep on your side or turn over, so you didn’t feel claustrophobic. As you made your way in, you realised how dark it was, evidenced by the fact you only found where Dae-ho was when you bumped into him, your arm pressing into his. A few moments passed and you stayed like that, finding comfort in the warmth he provided you with, and the soft sound of his breathing. Then you felt it. One of his fingers delicately tracing a line up the back of your hand. Your breath hitched, then evened out as the patterns he drew soothed you, and you couldn’t stop your head from lulling towards him to rest on his shoulder once more. Wordlessly, he withdrew his arm from beside yours and slid it underneath your neck, his hand falling to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer without being forceful. You allowed him to move you however he wanted, following his guidance and twisting until you were on your side, letting your leg drape over his and your hand fall to his chest. Your head ended up nestled into his neck as his arm kept tightening around you, hand eventually resting on your waist. You settled further into him with a contented sigh, his other hand meeting yours and enveloping it, the warmth and comfort alongside the rise and fall of his chest almost sending you straight to sleep.

It was a few minutes before you heard him speak, and even then you couldn’t be sure it was real. You were so close to drifting off, and his voice was barely audible, lips ghosting across your scalp.

“Promise me…” he whispered, quiet and vulnerable, “that we’ll make it out of here?” He sounded so broken. You lifted your entwined hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that you hoped conveyed reassurance before tucking your joined hands close to your body.

“I promise.” His own lips found themselves on your forehead, the lightness of the touch leaving your skin tingling and a content blush fanning across your cheeks. His hands squeezed yours tighter as exhaustion began to pull you under, and all you could think was how badly you’d fucked yourself over. That even if you somehow made it out of this place, if it was without him, it would feel worthless.

"Goodnight, kind angel."

[creamecafe]

May you do yandere platonic season 2 squid game with 13-15 year old reader who wants to stay?

Season 2 Squid Game Characters with Teen!Reader who wants to stay

Pairing: Platonic!Squid Game Characters x Teen! Reader

Warnings: none just the characters almost acting like parents

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting I hope you enjoy this!

Seong Gi-Hun

Due to his trauma of losing Kang Sae-Byeok the first time he played the Squid Games, he's not letting you out of sight

He'll make sure you'll on his team always or least close by.

You sleep and eat close by him along with his team, Jun-Hee, Young-il, Kang-Dae Ho and Jung-Bae

Would never forgive himself if you died on his watch

Young-il

When joining the games he didn't expect to have such a change of heart

He was already soft for Jun-Hee because she's pregnant and now you, a teenager joining the games

He wonders what possible debt you could be in, at such a young age

Considers sparing you

Thanos

Wants on you his team immediately

Kinda influences you to follow what he says

Wouldn't threaten you or anything

But would still try to intimidate you to stay

Kang Dae-Ho

Wonders why a teen would ever join this game?

Vows and promises to protect you at all costs

Would talk to you and ask you about your life

He most likely wouldn't think twice giving his life for you

Lee Myung Gi

When he notices how young you are, he's a bit concerned

Whatever reason you're in debt for, he tries to look after you

Tries to tell you to stay away from Thanos and stay close

Cho Hyun Ju

Wants to protect you also

After losing Young-Mi, her emotions and senses are now heightened up

She's terrified to lose you, especially so young

Joins the idea to fight against the guards in hopes to get you out of here safely

Se-Mi

Like Min-su, she also wants to protect you

She'll be like an older sister, teasing you but also cares about you deeply

Tells you to not always be around Thanos as he's not a good influence

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Join my taglist!

[ariestrxsh]

shy!sub!chris x babysitter!reader

˚₊ · »-♡→ content warning: smut, mommy kink, age gap (Chris is 22 & reader is 28), innocence corruption, virginity loss, size kink, oral (m & f!receiving)

˚₊ · »-♡→ summary: chris runs into his old childhood babysitter, and their innocent reunion takes a turn when the two can't deny the sexual tension between them.

If the age gap or the fact that the reader used to babysit Chris bothers you, then don't read this fic ! The ones that get it, get it, and the ones that don't, dont.

Part 1 | Part 2 (final part)

Baby Sitter (part two)

"I have your shirt, Chris. See? Can't even tell it had coffee on it," you remarked, handing over his white tee as you stood on his doorstep.

"Wow, that's amazing," Chris gasped, holding it up and searching for the remnants of the mocha he'd spilled down the front of it, but there was no evidence of it having happened at all. "Thanks!" Chris replied, tossing the shirt over his shoulder.

"Dishsoap and white vinegar," you casually mentioned. "Good to know," Chris responded, leaning up against the door frame. "Whatcha got there?" He motioned towards the brown, paper bag you had clutched in your arm.

"I got you a couple of apartment warming gifts!" You announced, pulling out a fancy bottle of avocado oil from it. He gave you an inquisitive look as you passed it off. "You cook with it," you giggled, sensing his confusion.

"Right," Chris replied, pointing the bottle at you as if you said the words that were sitting at the tip of his tongue. "Thank you!" He added. "That's not all," you relayed, grabbing another fancy bottle from your shopping bag.

"Oh, I know what to do with this one," he chuckled, taking the rosé from you. "Yeah, I got you a big bottle. So you could share it with someone if you wanted," you suggested, nibbling on your bottom lip and flickering your gaze between his eyes and his mouth. He shrugged his shoulder.

"I-I don't know who I would share it with," he admitted, holding a bottle in each hand as he read the label on the avocado oil. You jokingly looked around as if you were about to volunteer a stranger from off the street, and then finally said, "I'm free. Maybe we could split it over dinner."

"Oh. Cool. Yeah. I don't have anything to eat here, though," he continued staring at the label, still completely oblivious to the fact that you were hoping he'd invite you into his apartment.

"Don't worry, Chris. I remember my first apartment. You're probably mostly living off of ramen and takeout. I figured you might like a home-cooked meal," you replied, gesturing towards your paper bag.

"Oh, that's nice of you," he said, staring at you like a deer in the headlights. "So. Can I come in, baby?" You finally asked, cocking your head to the side and batting your lashes in his direction.

"Yes. Please. Of course," he eagerly nodded, finally stepping to the side to let you in. He silently kicked himself as he slowly realized that's what you'd been alluding to with your body language the whole time you'd been standing on his door step.

You didn't mind, though. You found his social awkwardness endearing.

You entered his apartment, placing the bag on his marble countertop. "Hey, you cleaned. It looks really nice in here," you observed, smiling in his direction as you started to take off your fur coat.

"Thanks for noticing," Chris nervously replied, his eyes dropping to the low neck line of your powder blue top and the short hem of your tight, black skirt.

"Is spaghetti still your favorite, baby?" You asked him, slinging your coat over the back of a chair and pulling out the contents of the brown paper bag.

"It is. I haven't had homemade spaghetti in such a long time," Chris responded, unable to conceal his excitement, a smile spreading across his lips.

You rummaged through his cabinets, retrieving a pot, filling it with water, and bringing it to a boil on the stove. "Would you grab us some glasses for the wine?" You requested from the blue-eyed boy.

"Will red solo cups work?" Chris asked, opening his cabinet. You laughed. "Look in the bag. I came prepared," you responded, uncorking the wine. He reached into the bag, revealing two neatly wrapped glasses.

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" He asked, placing them delicately on the counter side-by-side. "The only thing I forgot is a condom. But I don't mind if you don't mind," you leaned in, softly purring into his ear. Chris nearly fell to his knees at your words.

"I-I don't mind," he stammered, wiping his sweaty hands off on the front of his sweatpants. You smirked, pouring a big glass for each of you.

"You ever had rosé before?" You inquired, corking the bottle back up. "No, I've never had wine before," he admitted, swirling the pink liquid around in the clear glass. You held your glass up, and he followed your lead.

"To all the firsts you're going to experience tonight," you seductively said as your glass softly clinked against his. He swallowed hard, his palms beginning to sweat again. You took a swig of your wine while you held your gaze on Chris, waiting for his reaction.

He hesitantly took a drink, but he was pleasantly surprised when he did. "It's sweet," he commented, nodding his head in approval.

"You like it?" You asked. "I do, actually," he told you before taking another sip. "You shaved," you observed, running the back of your hand over his soft face.

"I did. You noticed," he quietly replied, reaching up and touching his flushed cheek as a smile spread across his lips. He loved how attentive you were, pointing out all the things that most people missed.

"You know, I've missed you these past few days. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," you admitted, taking his glass and setting it down on the counter next to yours. You placed your hand on his chest and leaned in to kiss his neck.

He bit back a moan, gently rolling his hips forward and pressing his erection against your hip. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you either," he returned the sentiment, his shakey hand wandering to the small of your back.

You bit down and gently sucked on his soft flesh right above his collarbone as he melted into you. "You know, I brought dessert, too," you told him, your voice taking on a suggestive tone.

"What did you bring?" He eagerly asked, trying to glimpse into your bag as you kissed his neck. "It's not in there, silly boy," you teased him, lightly tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. "Where is it?" He smirked at you.

"It's right.." you started to say, gently grabbing his wrist. "Here," you cooed, putting his hand up your skirt. You rested his palm on your heat, his fingers grazing your clit as his breath caught in his throat.

"You're not wearing any panties," he observed in a low whisper as he looked into your eyes, feeling the warmth radiating off of you. "Oops. I guess I forgot them," you smugly responded, your lips curling into a devious smile.

He started slowly running his middle finger up and down your slit. "It's getting so wet," he whimpered, his breath growing shallow.

"Are you excited to eat it?" You purred, running your manicured fingernails along his jawline. He nodded and dropped to his knees in front of you, leaning in to taste you, but you stopped him.

"No, baby. Not yet. You're gonna spoil your dinner," you taunted him, running your thumb softly along his jawline. "But I wanna eat my dessert now, mommy" he pleaded with you, staring up your skirt. You shook your head.

"Just one little taste.." he whispered, rubbing your clit in small circles. "Christopher Owen," you scolded him, lightly swatting him in the face and gently tightening your grip on his jaw. "Be a good boy and listen to mommy."

His desperate, blue eyes gazed back at yours, and he slowly nodded as he stood back up. He was completely under your spell.

He wiped some sweat from his brow with the back of his trembling hand and picked up his glass of wine, lifting it to his lips and taking a sip to distract himself. He felt the buzz coming on, but he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or if it was all the blood rushing to his dick that was leaving him feeling lightheaded.

"You wanna know the trick to keeping your noodles from sticking together?" You asked him as you turned your attention back to the now boiling pot. He could barely focus on what you were saying over how hard you made him, so he just weakly nodded in response.

"Add salt to the water right before you put the pasta in," you replied, gathering all your seasonings. You added a few shakes of salt into the rumbling, hot water, and then you emptied the box of angel hair noodles into it.

"Then we wanna keep stirring it around every couple of minutes until it's soft enough to eat," you taught him, taking your wooden spoon and agitating the pot. All he could think about was how you weren't wearing any underwear beneath your short skirt.

"Here. Take this. You keep stirring while I prepare the meat," you directed him, your fingertips lightly brushing against his as you passed off the utensil to him. He felt a current of energy passing through his body as you grazed him, and you felt it, too.

He did as you said, stirring the pasta as you splashed a bit of avocado oil into the hot pan on the front left burner and started to brown the ground beef. You shook some salt, pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and Italian seasoning into the meat and started cooking it.

His blue eyes fell to your figure as he wet his lips. He was almost certain you were going to try to sleep with him tonight, and while he was excited to finally lose his virginity, especially to you, he was nervous to lose it, especially to you.

His heart pounded in his ears, and thoughts raced through his mind, imagining how you'd taste, what you'd sound like, what you'd feel like.

"Did you hear me?" You asked, nudging him in the arm. "Huh?" He replied, realizing your lips had been moving the whole time, but he'd been too busy having dirty thoughts about you to register what you were saying.

You peered down at the tent in his sweats and smirked back up at him. "Whatcha thinking about?" You cooed as if you hadn't just teased him relentlessly while standing in his kitchen without any panties on.

He blushed and let out a laugh. "I'm sorry. I get hard so easily," Chris nervously apologized, nibbling on his lip and trying to hide his erection. "I don't mind," you smirked at him.

The two of you finished making food, made your plates, and sat down to eat. You teased him throughout dinner, running your foot up his leg and making flirtatious comments as you made eyes at him in the glow of the candlelight.

You poured yourself a second glass of wine and then another one. Before you knew it, you and Chris had nearly finished off the bottle, and the sexual tension between the two of you was growing.

"You don't mind if I stay the night here, do you? I've had a lot of wine," you asked him, slightly slurring your words as you twirled your noodles around your fork. "No, I don't mind at all," he replied nervously, taking the last bite of his spaghetti.

"You still get nightmares?" You wondered, taking a sip of your wine. He let out a small chuckle. "What's so funny?" You asked.

"I hate to break this to you, but I never really had an issue with nightmares, not since I was really little," he nervously confessed, fidgeting with the base of his glass.

"What? What about all those bad dreams you used to have when I babysat you?" You inquired, looking puzzled. "I was faking," he said, biting back a grin.

"Christopher," you replied sharply, glaring in his direction and slugging him in the arm. There was a bit of real anger behind your tone.

You'd spent many nights worrying about Chris and his bad dreams. So much to the point that it had cut into your own sleep on many occasions and caused issues in your relationship, which didn't matter in hindsight, considering how much an asshole your boyfriend at the time was.

Chris, on the other hand, loved how genuinely you cared for him, and the way you'd always drop everything to lull him back to sleep with your warm, inviting voice and the soft caress of your hand against his cheek.

You couldn't stay mad at him, though. In a lot of ways you found it endearing how much he wanted to be around you, but you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that an eleven-year-old had come up with such an elaborate scheme.

"I know, I know. I just wanted you in my bed," he smirked. "Naughty boy," you rolled your eyes. "Maybe I'll pretend to have one tonight, so you'll have to come to bed with me and help me back to sleep," he lustfully responded. "Yeah? I bet I know how to tire you out," you flirted back.

His cock strained at the cotton fabric of his pants as you stared into his eyes, wetting your lips and parting your legs to give Chris another glimpse at what you had between them. He nibbled on his bottom lip, his sparkling eyes traveling to your glistening folds.

"Can I eat my dessert now, mommy?" He sweetly asked, but you slammed your legs shut and gave him a mischevious look.

Now what? He thought to himself, wondering what hoop you were going to make him jump through next before giving him what he wanted.

"I want mine first," you snickered, kneeling down in front of him and tugging at his sweats. He swallowed hard, looking down at you wide-eyed, but he listened, lifting his hips and allowing you to pull them down just enough for his cock to spring out of them.

You could sense how tense and nervous he was, literally sitting on the edge of his seat and his breath growing shallow and irregular.

"You're so hard," you observed, wrapping your fingers around his thickness and stroking it up and down. "All for me?" You cooed, watching a bit of precum gather at his tip.

"Yes, mommy," Chris said in a gravelly whisper. "All for you," he eagerly nodded, waiting in anticipation for what you were about to do next.

You leaned in, planting a kiss on his swollen head and slurping up the clear liquid from his slit. His cock twitched in response. You felt his whole body relax beneath you.

He slowly sunk back into his chair as he gave himself over to the wonderful feeling of your tongue fluttering around on all his sensitive nerve endings. "No one's ever done that to me before," he admitted in a timid voice as you wrapped your lips around his swollen tip and gently suckled on it.

"You like it, don't you?" You cooed before licking a long stripe from the base of his shaft all the way up his length and slipping him back into your mouth again.

"Mhmm," he whined, nodding as his hands found their way to your shoulders. He gently dug his fingernails into your back as you combined the two techniques, swirling your tongue around on his tip while you created a bit of suction.

He had always fantasized about getting head, but he didn't know it could feel this magical. He adored every subtle motion as you learned what he liked best.

His hand tenderly grazed the back of your head as he silently encouraged you to take more of him. You smirked, sliding down his length, feeling every vein with your tongue and swallowing him inch-by-inch until your nose was pressed up against his lower abdomen.

"Oh, yes. Just like that mommy," Chris pathetically whimpered as you hummed against the base of his cock. He slid down further into his chair, his eyes locked on the way your lips stretched around him.

You started bobbing your head up and down, eliciting a few soft gagging noises from you. The sound of you lightly choking on his dick drove Chris crazy.

He brushed a stray hair out of your face and placed both his hands on your ears as he tossed his head back and let out a strangled moan. He lifted his hips, driving his cock further into your throat. You could feel him quivering against your tongue as you slid back up his length, pulling your mouth off of him with a pop.

His lips curled into a smile as he peered back down at you. "Mommy. I was so close," he whimpered, his chest rising and falling with his labored breath.

"I know, pretty boy, but we gotta clean the kitchen before you can cum," you taunted him, climbing to your feet.

He licked his pouty lips as he let out a defeated sigh and pulled his sweats back on over his hard cock. He followed you to the kitchen, dragging his feet and silently throwing a fit about not being able to finish.

You put away the leftovers while Chris did the dishes, the whole time his cock aching at the absence of your mouth.

His erection was pinned between his stomach and the lip of the counter, and as he squeezed the excess water out of the sponge, he found himself rutting his hips forward and gently grinding against the marble finish.

You hoisted yourself up onto the countertop beside him and whispered in his ear, "Easy. You better not cum in your pants or mommy's gonna be really mad at you."

A pained whine drifted to your ears as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded. He went back to the dishes, trying to ignore his raging boner and trying to keep himself from rubbing up against the furniture like a dog in heat.

As he finished up drying off the last plate, you hiked up your skirt and flashed him your pussy again. His eyes widened, and his tongue darted out and slithered over his lips.

"Please, mommy. Can I have my dessert now?" He begged you, his voice saturated with lust and his eyebrows furrowed together in a look of desperation. "Yes, pretty boy. Come eat it," you nodded, spreading your labia open with two of your fingers.

He kneeled down in front of you, nervously leaning in to close the distance between his mouth and your cunt. You felt his warm breath first and the tickle of his smooth cheek grazing the inside of your thigh. He planted a delicate kiss on your pussy, causing you to grip his soft hair and gently tug on it.

He moaned against your sensitive bundle of nerves before gripping your legs and pulling you closer to him. Your mouth curled into a smile as he placed his hands on the insides of your thighs, pushing them as far apart as they could go. He gently nuzzled your clit before his pretty blue eyes flicked backed up at you, silently asking for your validation.

"Good boy. You're doing a perfect job. You're a natural," you praised him, running your fingers through his brown locks. That was all he needed to boost his confidence.

His kisses became more deliberate and more passionate as he drooled all over your cunt, periodically slurping up the mixture of his saliva and your wetness. You squirmed and squealed beneath him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs while he kissed, licked, and sucked on your sensitive area.

"Mommy, you taste so sweet," he complimented you, coming up for air for a moment. He lapped away, his tongue swirling around on your delicate folds as you started to tremble beneath him. "Chris.." you hissed, your body tightening.

Your head fell back against the wooden cabinet behind you as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He couldn't tell if he was wine drunk or pussy drunk, but a warm, fuzzy sensation overpowered him as he lost himself in you, forgetting the boundary between his mouth and your heat.

He almost couldn't believe that he was making you feel that good, but the way your body was reacting to him seemed genuine. A few loud moans fell from your lips as you shivered, finishing onto his velvet tongue.

"Wow," you whispered, panting as you tried to regain your composure. "Was that your first time eating pussy?" You asked him, still gently combing through his hair with your fingers. He peered up at you, timidly nodding.

"That was the best head I've ever gotten, Chris. Your tongue is every girl's dream," you giggled, reaching for the hem of Chris' shirt. He loved the way you showered him in compliments. "Please. Take this off, and put your big cock in me."

"Big?" He whispered, looking into your eyes. "What? Does that surprise you, baby? That you're big?" You asked him, helping him take off his shirt. He slowly nodded, pulling his dick back out of his sweats and peering down at it as he lined it up with your entrance.

"You gotta be gentle with me at first because of how big it is, okay?" You cooed, biting back a smirk. You knew you could handle it, but you knew your words were like music to his ears.

"Okay," he replied, gently tapping it against your clit before slipping the tip into your hole. It felt better than he ever could have imagined. He gingerly rocked his hips back and forth, allowing you to get used to his size as he firmly placed his hands on your hips.

His jaw fell slack, and a look of pleasure seeped into his expression. It took everything in him to go slow and gentle, trying so hard not to get carried away. A couple faint whines unfurled from your lips, and Chris immediately stopped, glancing up at you.

"Are you okay? Am I hurting you?" He sweetly asked, concerned that the noises you were making were out of pain. "No, baby. I'm making those sounds because it feels really good. Go deeper," you whispered, tenderly cradling his face.

"Yes, mommy," he whimpered, fucking you a little deeper and a little faster. He leaned in to kiss you, your lips locking with his as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. His shaky hand slid up the hem of your shirt, and he gently squeezed your breast, noting to himself that you also hadn't worn a bra.

The soft clicking sounds of your mouth filled the space between you. You could taste the rosé mixed with the flavor of your pussy on his tongue as you pulled him deeper into the kiss. He felt completely intoxicated - drunk off of the wine and drunk off of you.

Once he pulled back, his eyes wandered between your legs. He took in the lovely sight of your pussy expanding around his girth.

"Harder, baby. Fuck me harder," you ordered him, resting your hand on his chest and feeling his sped up heart rate. You heard his breath quicken as he picked up the pace.

He pushed up your pretty, blue top, exposing your tits. He was immediately enamored with them, gently pinching your nipples between his fingers and listening to the pretty sounds that left your mouth as he played with you.

"Suck on them, baby," you directed him, and he nodded, leaning in to take each one into his mouth as he squeezed each one in each hand.

"Such a good boy," you purred, petting the back of his head and massaging his scalp with your manicured nails. He whimpered against your breast, the vibration sending pleasure through your nipple and causing you to clench around his cock.

"Faster, Chris. Faster," you demanded, feeling yourself getting closer and closer. "Fuck," Chris muttered, stopping abruptly. You felt his cock pulsating inside of you. He was afraid if he moved at all, it would send him over the edge before he could finish you off.

"What's the matter, baby? Hmm? Why'd you stop?" You cooed, cradling his head and pushing his face into your breasts. "So close, mommy," he whimpered, holding his body still and using every last ounce of willpower to keep from drilling into you and letting his orgasm run its course.

"Fuck. I can't," he whined, pulling out of you and waiting for the feeling to subside. "It's okay, baby. Yes, you can. Take a breather," you encouraged him, placing a hand on either side of his head with his nose just inches from yours as you peered into his beautiful, blue eyes. He nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

After a few moments of fending off his climax, he slid it back in, letting it go in all the way before pulling out again. He watched in awe at the way you stretched so perfectly around him as he plunged into you with his thick cock over and over again.

"I wanna turn you around so bad," he whispered, peering into your eyes as he pulled out again. You hoisted yourself off of the counter, spinning around, and propping your leg up on the edge of the marble cuntertop.

"Give it to me, pretty boy. Fuck me as hard and as fast as you can," you instructed him. "Yes, mommy," he answered, pushing up your tight skirt and slipping his length into your cunt from the back. He loved being told what to do by you.

"Good boy," you moaned as he started pistoning his hips forward, driving his cock deep into your drooling pussy as he reached around and grabbed a handful of your breast.

You could feel his hot breath against your ear and hear his pretty moans as he fucked you with all his strength. "Oh, Chris.. so big.. gonna cum.. gonna cum all over your big cock," you babbled as you shook violently.

Your orgasm hit your system, feeling like a series of explosions going off in your body. You tightly gripped the edge of the cool, marble counter as you clenched around him again, finishing all over his rod. Your juices flowed down the sides of his dick as he railed you, extracting your climax from you.

"Good boy. You made me cum all over it," you breathlessly whimpered, trying to catch your breath. A satisfied smile started in the corner of his lip as he realized he'd made you finish. "Fill me up, Chris," you demanded, letting your head fall back against his chest as he pounded into you.

He couldn't take it anymore. The feeling of your pussy convulsing around him and your words encouraging him to shoot his load inside of you, it was all too much.

He delivered a few more powerful thrusts, jerking his hips forward and triggering his own orgasm. His strokes slowed to a stop as he filled you to the brim, pumping you full of his liquid.

Pleasure coursed through him, leaving him feeling completely drained after, but in the best way, like he'd just finished running a marathon and had won first place.

He finally pulled out of you, nearly collapsing onto the floor and having to steady himself on the counter as all the blood rushed back to the rest of his body.

You spun back around, hoisting yourself back up onto the marble counter and spreading your legs and your puffy lips open for him again.

"Look at how much you came," you smirked, putting yourself on display for him as his thick, sticky fluid leaked from your cunt. He focused his blurry vision on the way it gushed out of you every time you clenched around nothing.

"Oh my god. It looks perfect," he responded, admiring the mess he made before slumping over and nestling his nose in the crook of your neck. A wave of embarrassment overcame him, wondering if he'd done a good job or if he was too awkward or shy about it all.

"Was I o-okay?" He nervously asked, his voice becoming small and shakey. "Chris. I can't feel my legs," you chuckled back in response. "Is th-that a good thing?" He timidly asked. "It's a great thing, Chris. You give the best dick. Best I've ever had in my life."

Your praises had blood rushing back to his cock, and it sprung to life once more.

"Oh, don't tell me that. You're gonna make me wanna give it to you again," Chris whispered as you felt his erection poking you in the thigh. You chuckled, surprised by his stamina.

"Give it to me again, baby. I promise. I can take it."

taglist: @nomusic-nodreams @sturnzsblog @pottersfia @sturnlsstuff @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @moonlightsturns @hrtz4alex2211 @verstarkey @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova

[am-i-interrupting]

Hello, could you make a viktor x reader fanfic (where reader is someone very affectionate, and is very close to heimerdinger) please and thank you very much (⁠^⁠^⁠)

Soft Seams

Viktor was new to Piltover. New to all these things. Walking down the cobblestone streets even felt like something he shouldn’t be doing, something he would be yelled at for. However, with the head of the council walking with him, chatting along with a speedy, chipper voice no one dared to say a word. No matter how obvious it was that Viktor was not from Piltover.

His makeshift cane hit the ground with a soft, hallowed clack. His bag, well worn and covered in patchwork, was soft beneath his thumb which kept running over it.

“I believe you will like the owner,” Heimerdinger said. “There’s not a person they’ve yet to win over! Ah, here we are.”

For the first time since meeting this odd man, Viktor was not the one to open the door. At least, not for Heimerdinger. The door was split into two sections, a section with a door knob that was at an average person’s height and a section carved in that was more suited for someone of the yordle decent.

“Hello,” Heimerdinger said as he walked through the door.

It swung closed behind him. Viktor waited a moment, as the door swung inward, before opening it.

“Heimerdinger,” a voice from further inside rang out, “is that you?”

Viktor looked around the shop. There were fabrics draped over the walls. Mannequins sporting different types of attire ranging from more casual to extraordinarily expensive. A couple racks were on the floor sporting similar clothing. Several table displays were flittered in as well.

“Yes, indeed, my dear!”

A head poked out from behind one of the displays. You had bright eyes and a warm smile.

“It’s been too long!” you said as you raced forward.

You knelt onto the ground to give the yordle a hug. You swayed him back and forth as he wrapped his arms around you.

“And who is this with you?” you asked.

“This is Viktor,” Heimerdinger introduced. “A young man with a brilliant mind who I’ve had the pleasure of meeting recently.”

“Hello,” Viktor said.

He took your hand as Heimerdinger gave him your name. You surprised him by covering his hand with both of yours. They were soft and warm in comparison to his own.

“I’m honored to meet you,” you said.

You have his hand a light squeeze. He was convinced you may actually mean it.

“The honor is mine. The Professor speaks highly of you,” he replied.

You smiled, looking down. A small flush came to your face. Your eyes went to the yordle who met your eyes head on with a smile of his own. He was rocking back on his heels as he did so.

“We’re here to inquire about procuring some new attire for Viktor,” Heimerdinger said. “With such a brilliant mind, I’ve request his assistance with some of my projects.”

You nodded. Something in your demeanor told Viktor that you were excited, ready.

“Alright, why don’t you come to the back with me and we’ll get started,” you told him with a gesture to follow.

Viktor’s eyes went to the Professor. However, the man was already following beside you. He wasted no time to being chatting away.

You laughed at something the man had said. “You would mind standing here so I may take your measurements?” you asked with laughter still on your tongue.

Viktor stood on the platform that was indicated. Looking at himself in the multiple mirrors, he couldn’t help but feel more like he did not belong.

His clothes were worn and stitched together with hopes, not talent. In direct comparison to Heimerdinger (who sat perched on a chair perfectly tailored to his height) and you (who wore a perfectly fitted, unstained white sleeveless shirt with black, high waisted pants), he was noticeably less well off.

Although, the point of this visit was so when he began to accompany Heimerdinger everyday, no one would notice.

You took a measuring tape and began to wrap it around various parts of his body. Every time, you took note of the measurements. When you were done, you dragged a chair to the platform.

You patted it twice. He took the indication to sit.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, pulling it back and away from his face.

Instinctively he found himself sitting up straighter. His eyes went a bit wider. He could feel his lip begin to pull down in confusion.

Your face went beside his own as you looked at him in the mirror. He could feel your breath against his left cheek.

You nodded to yourself as you grabbed several patches of differently colored squares. His hair fell back into place.

You placed the patches onto his shoulder. “Alright, that’s about what I thought,” you said. “You have a warm undertone in your skin but it’s a bit muted instead of very bright. So, the colors that will look best on you will follow that pattern. Instead of the bright red of the academy, I’d suggest a more maroon tone of red, something deeper and richer.

“I think you would look beautiful in greens especially,” you continued on. “With the golden hues in your eyes and the warmth in your skin, something like a sage or olive green would really make those features pop.”

You thumbed through the color patches. You found two greens. A bright, saturated green was on his right side. A more muted, grey toned green was on his left.

“See how the brighter green makes you look more washed out, verses the muted which really brings attention to all the golden in your eyes and skin?” you asked.

He didn’t expect you to actually look at him for an answer. When your eyes met his in the mirror, he found himself nodding.

“So, when we’re looking at any clothing, general rule of thumb would be to go with something more muted,” you told him. “Muted doesn’t necessarily mean dull. Soft blues, purples, pinks, and greens are all beautiful colors with varying degrees of intensity. But dusted colors will generally look better on you than something that’s pure pigment. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Now, fabrics. All I need for you to do on this next part is tell me which ones fell the most comfortable.”

The rest of the visit went smoothly and fairly fast. You all said your farewells and you told Viktor to come back sometime within the next three to five days.

He did. This time alone.

You greeted Viktor with the same kindness that you had before. You rushed him to the back so he could try on the clothing you’d picked out or made for him.

First was the uniform. A pair of black dress shoes. Grey pants that were looser at the thighs and tapered in at his calves. A fitted, maroon button up covered by a cream and dusty blue vest with a matching cream tie tucked in.

You pulled at the vest to make sure it fitted nicely. “And if there’s anything which needs to be changed, don’t hesitate to ask. The point of clothing is for you to be comfortable.”

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you,” Viktor said.

You smiled at him in the mirror. “Of course.”

There were several other variations of the same uniform. Outside of that were different colored vests, button ups, and trousers. Some for function and others for comfort. Viktor had never worn such soft and comfortable fabrics in his life.

There was one outfit in particular that you seemed to be excited about. When he put it on, he actually understood why.

It was extremely comfortable. Soft and warm. A cream colored turtleneck. It was tucked into a pair of sage green pants that felt almost like velvet but warmer and more gentle to the touch. The brown vest was made of a similar fabric. All of it came together with a sage green jacket, the same fabric as the turtleneck on the outside but the interior was lined with cream fur.

“You look very handsome,” you told him.

He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were brought to attention and his skin seemed to almost glow. He was inclined to agree.

[yaniluvs]

going back to you 日 ── your tired boyfriend returns home after a long schedule, wanting nothing else but to be close to his lover.

𓍯 idolbf!han ʚଓ gn!reader ：（ 𝒾 ） 0.8k ── ༯ DRABBLE, fluff, humour, flirting, cuddles, kisses, cutesy, req. by anon! ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY. /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖ ˙ ᰋ haha see what i did? with the title? i'm so creative..? you're a boomer if you don't get it i don't make the rules SORRY. my hannie i love you sm. my first gender-neutral-reader fic !! written in second pov. (not my usual writing pov., but oh well !) how have you been doing? a little domestic fluff to make you smile >< thank you anon for the request, hope you like it !! comments, requests, asks, likes, follows and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

the apartment was dimly lit, bathed in the soft glow of string lights you’d insisted on hanging months ago. the scent of your vanilla candle lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth of home.

his home.

jisung trudged through the door, dropping his bag with a thud and kicking off his sneakers without care for where they landed. his hoodie hung loosely off his frame, his face buried in its collar to stave off the cold he'd carried in with him.

“baby?” his voice was tired, scratchy.

you popped your head out of the kitchen, spatula in hand. “you’re home! i made—”

he didn’t let you finish, crossing the distance between you in three long strides to wrap his arms tightly around your waist.

the flour-coated spatula clattered to the counter as you instinctively looped your arms around his neck.

“rough day?” you murmured, your chin resting atop his shoulder.

“you have no idea,” he groaned, voice muffled against your hoodie. “just let me stand here. let me hold you. please.”

“the cookies aren't gonna bake themselves,” you teased lightly, brushing a hand through his messy, slightly damp hair. “but i’m all yours.”

his grip tightened, and you felt the deep sigh he released against your neck. “sorry.. i just, missed you so badly today. you have no idea how much.”

you pulled back slightly to cup his face, your thumbs brushing the dark crescents under his eyes. “talk to me?”

he shook his head, lips pouting slightly. “later. i just wanna be with you right now. can we cuddle?”

“you didn’t even eat—”

“don’t care.” he tilted his head, his lips brushing the curve of your thumb before pressing a soft kiss there. “babe. please.”

you melted. because of course you did. you always did when it came to him.

“fine,” you relented, threading your fingers through his as you led him to the couch.

he didn’t let go of your hand, not even as you tried to sit. instead, he pulled you down on top of him, sprawling across the cushions with you practically cocooned in his arms.

“jisung,” you laughed, “i’m going to crush you.”

“crush away,” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “this is exactly what i needed.”

“you’re like a koala,” you teased, although your heart fluttered at how tightly he was holding you, like you might disappear if he let go.

“and this koala hasn't seen you all day. he's in withdrawal.”

you rolled your eyes but didn’t move, instead running your fingers gently through his hair. he sighed contentedly, his body relaxing against yours.

for a moment, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of his breathing and the quiet hum of the city outside. however-

“do you know how channie hyung made me rewrite my rap three times?” jisung grumbled, his nose still pressed into your neck.

“did he now?”

“three times, yeah! and then minho hyung told me it sounded fine the first time.”

“of course, you're minho's baby,” you huffed sarcastically, unable to hold back a smile.

“god forbid a man is loveable-”

you giggled, brushing your lips against the top of his head. “okay, but you're my boyfriend first.”

“i am,” he replied, tilting his head up to look at you with a pout. “and you know what i really need right now?”

“what?”

“a kiss.”

you raised a brow. “just one?”

he grinned, boyish and soft, his eyes sparkling despite his earlier exhaustion. “okay, maybe, like, twenty. or a hundred. start anywhere you want. i’m not picky.”

you giggled, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips. he hummed happily, his hands finding your waist and squeezing gently.

“more,” he mumbled against your lips, pulling you closer.

“someone’s greedy,” you teased, but you kissed him again. and again. soft, slow, like the world outside had paused just for you two.

“i missed this,” he whispered between kisses, his voice barely audible. “missed you. you’re my favorite place, love. my home.”

your chest ached, and you held his face in your hands, kissing his forehead, his nose, the mole under his eye that you adored. “you’re mine too, you know.”

he smiled, bright and blinding, his fingers drawing little patterns on your back. “good. because i’m not going anywhere. ever. you’re stuck with me.”

“oh no,” you deadpanned, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “whatever will i do?”

“give me more kisses, for starters,” he quipped, leaning up to steal another from you.

hours passed like that, tangled up together in warmth and love, the troubles of the day forgotten in the safety of each other. and as he drifted off, his head tucked against your chest and your fingers playing with his hair, you pressed one last kiss to his temple, whispering the words you knew he loved to hear.

“i love you, sung. always.”

his lips curved into a sleepy smile. “love you too, baby. forever.”

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily @hyunjiiza @modesttiger

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE scenario : drunk calling ex!riize ༉‧₊˚.

req: hello sorry for another rq but what about ex!riize and you're drunk call him.. can i be 🪐 anon too pls

note: sure! thank you for your request ♥

pairing: ex!riize x reader— masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

“y/n? Why are you calling me?”

“I just… I saw this otter plushie on my way home, and it reminded me so much of you.”

After dinner with your friends, you drank a bit too much, and seeing that plushie made you think of your ex, Shotaro. You couldn’t help but call him, missing him deeply. Though you had separated due to the distance, both of you still harbored feelings for each other. Surprised by your call, he answered immediately, letting out a small laugh when he realized you were drunk.

“Are you walking home alone? Don’t hang up, I’ll talk to you until you get there… So, tell me, what was the otter like?”

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

“Why are you calling me now, y/n?”

“Do you ever think about me, Eunseok?”

Eunseok didn’t expect your call late at night, much less for your first words in months to be that. He stayed silent for a few moments before letting out a sigh.

“Have you been drinking, y/n?”

“Just… answer my question…” From the tone of your voice, he knew you were drunk.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, y/n. We’re not talking about this if you won’t even remember it when you wake up.”

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

“Huh? Sungchan? Why did you call me?”

“You’re the one who called me, yn…”

After your office dinner, you had a little too much to drink and accidentally called Sungchan. When he answered and heard your voice, he couldn’t help but laugh at how confused you sounded.

“It was me…? Sorry, I meant to call a taxi…” you said, about to hang up before he spoke again.

“Where are you, y/n? Have you been drinking?”

Even though it had been months since you broke up, Sungchan still cared for you deeply. He decided to stay on the phone to make sure you got home safely.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

“Mgh…?”

Wonbin was already asleep when you called, his voice groggy as he answered. You had just gotten home from a party, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Memories of all the sweet moments you shared flooded your mind.

“I miss coming home and sleeping next to you…”

“Huh, y/n? Why are you calling so late?”

“I miss you, Wonbin… Don’t you miss me? Don’t you miss anything about me?”

“Ah… you’re drunk, aren’t you? I do miss you, y/n, but… this isn’t the time to talk about it.”

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

“y/n? Is something wrong?”

After drinking with your friends at a bar, memories of how things ended with Seunghan overwhelmed you. You hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye, and it still haunted you. Seeing your call, he answered, concerned, it wasn’t like you to call so late. But hearing your voice, he quickly realized what was going on.

“I’m so sorry, Seunghan… I’m sorry for leaving like that, for how I treated you, and… I hope someday you can forgive me, you know? I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but I miss you so much right now…”

“You don’t need to apologize, y/n… Are you okay? Are you with anyone? I can come pick you up…”

⭑.ᐟ sohee

“Do you know how much I sacrificed for you? And you haven’t even apologized yet…”

The last thing Sohee expected that day was a call from you, let alone a drunken, angry one. Although he didn’t like the way you were speaking to him, he also didn’t want to argue with you in that state.

“I’m not going to talk to you about this right now, y/n. I already explained why we broke up… Are you home? Please go to bed. If you want, I’ll call you tomorrow, but don’t do this now.”

⭑.ᐟ anton

“y/n, what…?”

“Anton? I didn’t know who else to call… I’ve been drinking, and I started feeling sick on my way home… I think I’m near your place, but I don’t know…”

You thought you could get home without a taxi after a party, but you started feeling dizzy and lost along the way. Even though Anton was your ex, you knew he’d always answer, so you called him for help. Hearing your voice, Anton immediately grew nervous, worrying about you and getting ready to find you. He didn’t hold any grudges against you, if anything, he still hadn’t completely gotten over you. Without hesitation, he went out to help.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[lokideservesahug]

Britney's Plan Lives On

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Driver!Reader

Notes: I'll make my come back soon (I promise) but for now, here is a little (emphasis on little) something for everybody's favourite F1 driver with a knighthood!

Warnings: Ferrari driver!Reader (Don't worry about Charles, he's either a team that treats him better in this ig). Nico being a menace and reveling in it, many Brocedes references😔

Summary: People have been desperate for you and Lewis to get together and have been for years. So much so that they'll latch on to anything and run with it. But what if a relationship between you both wasn't that impossible?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Have a request? Why not pop into my inbox, it's always open!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @thatgirlmj

[bluem1lls]

HEYY, I LOVE UR WRITINGG

i have an idea where thanos flirts with reader and immediately reject him, giving him a dirty look or just being rude to him. se-mi is around there so when reader sees her their entire expression changes, giving her a smile or something like that idk 😭

it doesn't have to be exact to that, just take the idea of u like it and use it however u want!!

✦ content: short fluff, how you met your girlfriend at the game while rejecting her friend!

✦ authors note: thank you so much! i was just rewatching and i kept thinking about this idea so i wrote a short fluff, i hope you like it! thank you for your request♥️

⋆｡°✩ ever since the games started, you've been along player 120 and player 095. until the third game, where you lost them out of sight. as you heard "group of 5", you kept thinking that maybe this was your last round.

⋆｡°✩ i mean there was nothing else to do.. right?

⋆｡°✩ until a girl pulled your hand, and somehow you ended up in a room with a purple hair guy, his weird best friend, this girl and a guy who seemed to be her friend.

⋆｡°✩ she leaned against the wall, catching her breath, crossing her arms on her chest while staring at you. she has nice piercings.

⋆｡°✩ "well, well, well... look at what the wind brought us. a new friend" the purple haired guy spoke, looking at me. "i'm thanos, and who brought this pretty thing?"

you rolled my eyes, trying to copy the brunnete's position.

turning your head to look at her, her piercing gaze stays on you.

"thanks..."

"se-mi" she introduced herself.

"i thought i was about to die out there, thanks se-mi" i said to the girl.

she nodded, thano's best friend chuckled.

"we've been trying to get her name for days, but a pretty girl shows up and that's the first thing she tells her"

i snort as she rolls her eyes and scoffs, mumbling something that sounded like "idiot".

⋆｡°✩ of course you couldn't stop talking to her after the third game ended.

⋆｡°✩ eating with her, chatting and even laughing. it was easy to forget about everything when you were with her.

⋆｡°✩ but sadly, you could never find her alone. if she didn't had min-su following her around, thanos and nam-gyu were teasing her. so that meant you always had to chat with them too, as you tried (really hard) to get her alone.

⋆｡°✩ "doll face, came to hear your boy throwing a few lines?" thanos said getting closer to where me and se-mi were sitting down.

"oh my god" i covered my face as i hear her laughing. "i like talking to you so much, but i dont know if it's worth... this" i pointed at thanos.

she smiled, her arm sneaked to rest on my shoulders.

"it's worth every penny. althought you may wanna tell him that you're not really going for boys" she whispered in my ear. i softly laughed as i stare at her. she's so pretty. and her friends so annoying.

"prettiest girls in the planet, listen out, this one's for you-" thanos started.

"listen" i cut him mid-sentence. "you're such a fun, amazing guy" i said, standing up and placing my hands on his shoulder. "and i bet any girl would be so lucky dating you"

he nodded, proud of himself, as se-mi stared smirking.

"but i think there's something that would make you even a better person" i said looking at him, straight in the eyes. "leave to a corner and please let me have ten minutes alone so i can flirt with se-mi"

⋆｡°✩ his expression quickly fell as se-mi and nam-gyu snorted.

"so im not about to be your boy-"

"you're not. i'm not into guys, thanos. but you're...so...nice"

⋆｡°✩ he quickly understood. apparently. at least he went away along with his best friend. it was more than enough.

⋆｡°✩ "so.. can we go back to the flirting part?" se-mi said, her smile never fading as she played with her lip piercing.

"yeah, i think we finally can" i said, dragging her to sit with me in one of the beds.

⋆｡°✩ no need to clarify anything else. the guys understood when the next time they saw you, se-mi was hugging you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder.

⋆｡°✩ se-mi couldn't stop teasing thanos for falling for two times for two lesbians girls, which always ended up with him telling her how he'd release a rap called 'revenge is sweeter than girls' against her once they were out of here.

⋆｡°✩ you believe him. you'll hear more about it once you're out of here, holding your girlfriend's hand.

[gotta-winwin]

(💬) ... vernon chwe x reader

⭐ starring: vernon

💬 preview: the seemingly 'extraterrestrial' man that occupies Cubicle #218 cannot seem to take a hint - no matter how many flashing signs you throw at him.

tw/cw: fluff, corporate vernon, vernon is an oblivious lil shit, allusions to sex, quotes from b.e.d by Jacquees, shameless flirting and banter

based on an ask (hi + thanks for requesting!) as well as b.e.d by Jacquees MDNI

🪽fic rating/wc: pg 13/ 3.5k

☁️ masterlist & a/n: i am forever stuck in this vernon loop - alas, here's a request that's been sitting in my inbox for awhile, brewing vernon thoughts the whole time. although this fic is entirely fluff, there are allusions to sex so please be mindful of your age and the fic rating.

Vernon would have quit his job a long time ago if it hadn’t been for you. A part of him still yearned for the stage, a trusty guitar in his hands and the sound of diehard fans screaming his name. Instead, he had found himself stuck, circling the corporate ladder, clocking in to work everyday just to sit in his one lonely cubicle, staring at numbers he had only pretended to understand when getting his degree. 

He had his resignation letter signed and ready to go, and he would have handed it in if it hadn’t been for the notes that had begun to appear.

Colorful post-it notes that he’d find in the most random places - first his desk, then his lunchbox, in the pocket of his coat, stuck dead center on his computer screen. It baffled him, yet the notes kept coming, every single day of work without fail. At first he had scoffed, chalking it up to some silly office prank, but as time progressed, the notes became almost a given, as if the notes itself had rooted into his everyday routine. It filled him with anticipation and a reason to clock in everyday. As much as he hesitated to admit it, the silly notes made his day.

Of course, the notes were anonymous. Vernon had no idea that you were the reason he still showed up to work. 

“This is basically workplace harassment.” Anne, your closest co-worker, commented, as she watched you pen your next note to Vernon. She was the only one who knew it was you behind the colorful post-its.

“If he didn’t like it he would’ve told HR months ago.” You argued, ripping the completed note off the pad of bright orange post-its. “Besides, you’ve seen him smile at the notes. Even got a laugh out of him a couple times.” 

“But-” Anne snatched the note from you and read it aloud. “I hope our love will be like the number Pi: irrational and endless.” She shook her head, tsking. “Even for a compsci major, Y/N, Vernon would never find this funny. And if he does- he’s either mocking you, or his humor is just as broken as yours.”

“It’s funny!” You protested, snatching the note back. “Besides, I don’t even know where to leave this one. I’m running out of creative ideas.”

“What’s the point? You just need him to see it, right?”

You gave her a look. “There’s a higher probability of him laughing if he doesn’t expect the note. The less obvious the place, the better. He can’t be actively looking for it.” 

Anne sighed, spinning her chair back to face her work desk. “Compsci nerds.” 

Ignoring her, you continued. “I’m torn between leaving it taped to his water bottle, or taped to his bike.” 

“Of course Cubicle Number 218 Vernon Chwe would bike to work.” Anne rolled her eyes. “How old is this man? Can’t he drive?” 

“Hey!” You protested once again, defending him. “Maybe he just lives close, more cost-efficient you know.”  

Anne sighed. “Tape it to his bike.” Her fingers tapped against her keyboard as she spoke. “He’s definitely not going to be expecting that one.”

Your smile widened, already imagining his little stunned expression. “Okay. Cover for me- I’ll be right back.”

“Whatever.” Anne mumbled, although you caught a glance of the amused smile on her face. 

It was famously known throughout your office that the resident of Cubicle #218, Hansol Vernon Chwe, did not smile. He came into work and left while sporting the exact same facial expression the entire time. But you knew he smiled at your silly pick-up lines, no matter how stupid. And you knew that you might be the only person who knew just how pretty Vernon’s laugh was- even if it was from a distance.

If only you knew just how much Vernon wanted to know who was behind the silly notes that were his pick-me-up each day. 

You: 1 Vernon: 0

“I wanna live in your socks so I can be with you every step of the way.”

Vernon snorted audibly as he read the note, this time written on a hot pink post-it. His neighbouring co-workers snuck glances at him, drawn by the sudden noise. 

He ignored their stares, tucking the note into his jacket pocket for later. He was slowly amassing a collection of them, his desk back at home covered in multicolored post-its, each one from a different day. Sometimes the lines would be so terrible he’d shudder in cringe, but more often than not, he’d find them genuinely funny. 

Grabbing a file he needed faxed, Vernon made his way to the copier down the hall. Someone was already occupying it- and he realized he recognized her, the pretty girl who lived in cubicle #17. 

He could hear the loud music coming from her headphones, poorly hidden under her strands of hair. 

“Charli?” He asked, recognizing the familiar beats and rhythm of the song. 

He watched you turn around to face him, startled by his sudden appearance. “What?”

He pointed awkwardly to your headphones. “Is that Charli XCX? I didn’t think your name was Charli, don’t worry. It’s Y/N, right?” He rambled on, smiling sheepishly. 

You blinked, a little dazed by the amount of words he was suddenly speaking to you. You had always thought, like everyone else in the office, that Vernon was somehow untouchable. Someone so mysterious and way out of reality that the two of you just didn’t exist on the same plane of the universe. But now here he was, talking to you like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Yeah.” You answered, after realizing you had just been blankly staring at him. “To both questions.” You quickly added, equally awkward. “It’s Charli XCX and my name is Y/N.”

“Great.” His gaze drifted past you towards the copier. “Are you nearly done?” Holding up the file in his hand, he gestured behind you. “I need to fax something.” 

“Oh!” Hurriedly moving aside, you let out a tiny laugh. “I wasn’t really using it. Sometimes I just come in here and pretend I’m busy- to get away from how stuffy the office is. I don’t know why I just told you that.” You were mortified, glancing at him to make sure he wasn’t judging you.

Vernon’s lips were quirked into a smirk, as he tried hard to push down the laughter that was threatening to bubble up inside of him. Ultimately failing, his mouth widened into a smile as he laughed, the sound filling your ears better than any song could. 

“I like you.” He stated, as if it was such a simple thing and didn’t have your heart racing. “You’re funny.”

His smile widened once he caught sight of your open mouth, stunned into silence at the new side of Mr. Cubicle #218 you were currently seeing. 

“Close your mouth.” He mumbled, reaching a hand out to do it for you, his fingertips lightly pressing against your jaw. “You look like a fish.” 

“I- what?” You spluttered, moving a step back. 

Vernon shot you another melting smile, picking up his file and closing the copier. “Anyways, I’m all done. Are you going to hide out here some more?” He kept his eyes on you as he stacked the papers in his hands, organizing them against a nearby table. 

You nodded dumbly, eyes following his movement as he walked out, stopping by the doorway to shoot you a tiny salute before turning away. He walked down the hall with a gait only he had, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you feeling extremely confused, your cheeks oddly warm. 

You: 1 Vernon: 1

“Are you a worm? Cause I’d like to split you apart.” 

Morbid, yes, but you were slowly running out of ideas. Placing the sticky note strategically in his work bag, you scurried off, ducking behind a bookshelf to watch his reaction. 

“Are you a worm-” Vernon made a face as he read the note aloud. “Ew. Weird. Kinky?” He looked up at the ceiling, a concerning yet intrigued look on his face. A chuckle escaped him and you smiled in your success. 

Your work days seemed to blow right by with the joy in knowing you had successfully made him laugh, mind still churning through your last encounter with Vernon by the copier a couple weeks ago. It had both startled you and ignited something within- a longing to know more about him. 

“Looks like we’re the only ones left.” 

You looked up, blinking your dry and strained eyes, spotting Vernon hovering right above your cubicle wall, a tired expression filling his face. You glanced around the office and realized he was right. 

“Has it already been that long?” You wondered, rubbing your eyes as you shut off your computer, standing up to stretch your stiff back. 

You could’ve sworn Vernon snorted at your words. “Do you enjoy working here? Time does fly when you’re having fun.”

You shook your head. “God, no. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Yeah, you. 

An unspeakable look crossed his face as he grabbed your coat, helping you put it on. “C’mon, we can walk together.” 

“Oh. Thanks- alright.” 

The walk was amicably silent as you fell in step beside him, clutching your winter coat tightly as you both entered against the harsh wind. You spotted his banged up yellow bike across the street and bit back a grin. 

“You bike to work and back?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. You often passed him on your own way to work, spotting him through the windshield of your car. Nearly ran him over once, in your earlier days of working, but you don’t speak of that.

“I do.” Vernon patted the trusty bike with a loving hand. “Never failed me once.” 

A laugh escaped you, your breath hitting the winter wind and turning into a light fog. 

His eyebrows raised. “Are you laughing at me?” His lips quivered up as he watched you descend into laughter once again. 

“No!” You exclaimed through a fit of giggles, clutching your stomach. “Oh god, it’s just- Vernon Chwe- on a bike-”

A clear and infectious cackle of a laugh joined yours as Vernon too, doubled over in laughter. You paused, staring wide-eyed as giggles escaped him, thoroughly entertained by the amusement you had found in his transportation method. 

Passerbys would have deemed the pair of you as mad, with the way you clutched onto Vernon’s arm to hold yourself up as you laughed harder, his own hand gripping yours in the bitter wind. It was numbingly cold but both of your insides were warm, cheeks flushed due to the ridiculous image of Vernon on a bike. 

Y/N: 1 Vernon: 1 The universe(?): 1

“Yo.” 

Your music paused suddenly, jolting you out of your zone. Spinning around in your chair, you frowned up at Vernon, who had somehow swiped your phone from your desk without you noticing. 

“What’s up?” You sighed, taking off your headphones to glare at him. “You didn’t need to pause my music, y’know.” 

“I’ve been sent on a coffee run, wanna come?” He spread his arms open in invitation. “We can take as long as we like.” 

Ditching work for a while did sound like a nice pastime, especially with the lack of work you had currently. “I wouldn’t mind a breath of fresh air, actually. I’m down.”

“Put on your coat.” Vernon handed it to you, watching as you shrugged it on. 

“I know you want to be in my b.e.d, grinding slowly.” 

The last note had taken him terribly off guard and he needed a distraction to remedy that. 

To be fair, you didn’t really know what had gotten into you- the sudden bravado and confidence put into the note had caught you terribly off guard as well. 

“Do you know Joshua? He works in upper management but we’re pretty good friends.” Vernon suddenly asked, walking backwards along the sidewalk so he could look at you. 

You nodded. “I’ve seen him around. He’s very social.” Unlike you, you declined to add. 

“Yes. He’s hosting a social gathering later tonight, and asked if I could invite you.”

“He asked you to invite me?” You shot him a wary look, not quite believing him. You and Joshua barely passed as acquaintances. 

Vernon’s hand reached behind his neck as he rubbed his nape, a sheepish and embarrassed expression on his face. You noticed his ears would turn pink whenever he was even mildly shy. “Okay, maybe I just wanted to invite you, alright?” He turned away, walking properly now to hide his face from your keen eyes. 

A slow smile crossed your face. “Oh, no.” You mimed dread. “You’re in love with me, aren’t you.”

“What?” Vernon turned so fast you reckoned he must’ve gotten whiplash. 

“I’m joking.” Punching his arm lightly, you gave him a lighthearted smile, ignoring the way your heart pounded at the brunt question. “I’d love to go to the little party. You didn’t have to use Joshua to invite me.”

“Well,” Vernon’s ears turned pink once again. “I’d say I’d pick you up and give you a ride home after, but- I don’t think we’d both fit on my bike.” 

Both your lips twitched at the reminder of that night, where the two of you had laughed like it was the first time either one of you had found anything remotely funny. 

“I’ll drive.” You offered, once the wave of silent laughter dissipated. “You can hitch your bike to the back of my car.” 

“Me,” Vernon’s mouth dropped comically as he pressed his hands to his chest. “A passenger princess? How lucky.”

His smile widened as you laughed, and he shamelessly basked in the sound of it. 

Y/N: 2? Vernon: 2? The universe: 1

The smell of musk was the first thing that hit you as the two of you entered Joshua’s townhouse. It was a small, quaint place, decorated to the brim with trinkets and flower pots, overflowing with both people and food. Vernon led the way as you shuffled in, greeting familiar faces and smiling at strangers. 

“I thought you said ‘small gathering.’” You yelled, tiptoed next to Vernon so you could reach his ear. 

You could tell from his eyes that he had no idea what you were saying. “What?” He yelled back, although his voice was carried away by the crowd as well.

“I said-” You felt like you might burst a lung trying to communicate. “I thought you said, ‘small gathering!’” 

He stared at you blankly, blinking slowly, evidently still not in the loop. 

Giving up, you were about to turn away when you suddenly felt his whole body shake, quivering against you as he laughed. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, this time right in his face. 

“I heard you the first time, silly.” He yelled back, a shit-eating grin spreading wider as he watched your eyebrows furrow. 

“Party Vernon sucks.” You concluded, moving away, only to be pulled back by his hand on your arm.

“Didn’t you complain that I was too ‘mysterious’?” He yelled, laughing harder when you visibly paled. “Yeah, I heard that. But it’s okay. I am very…how did you put it. Sullen, at work.”

Hiding your face, you slapped his chest, causing him to groan in pain. 

“Ow.” 

“Ow.” You mocked back. There really was no answer as to where the sudden childishness came from, but the way Vernon was staring at you- it made reason seem almost meaningless.

He threw his head back and laughed, soundless against the party’s atmosphere but somehow just as electrifying. 

“Have fun, Y/N.” He said, grabbing your hands. “Let’s dance.” 

Y/N: 2 Vernon: 3 The universe: 1

You had always sworn by the fact that driving late at night with the windows down, cold air blowing through your hair was the way to go. 

“Admit it!” Vernon yelled through the wind, glancing at you from the passenger seat. “You had fun tonight.”

“I did.” You admitted. The party had been overwhelming at first, but the later the night got, the more fun you discovered yourself to have. “I haven’t had a night like that in a while.”

You braked at a red light and flipped through your playlist, switching on the one song you knew would get a reaction out of Vernon. 

“I know you wanna love But I just wanna fuck And girl, you know the deal I gotta keep it real I know you wanna see I know you wanna be In my B.E.D., grinding slowly”

The light turned green and you continued to drive, the roads empty and deserted, street lamps illuminating the world in a soft amber. Occasionally, you’d glance over at Vernon, who was bopping his head to the beat, murmuring the lyrics under his breath. 

Oblivious man. 

Reaching over, you turned the volume up, as if the louder the music was, it’d somehow reverberate its message into his skull. Get a hint! You wanted to scream at him. I’m kind of in love with you and want to jump your bones! Hello??

Vernon continued to groove to the music without a care in the world.

“This is a good song!” He yelled in your ear, his voice mixed with the whistling of the air, whooshing past you. 

“I know!” You screamed back. Oh my god. Is he really this dense? 

The song kept playing as you drove, winds calming down as you neared his place. In between the gap of the song switching to the next, Vernon spoke, his calm voice contrastingly the loudness before. 

“I think I’m going to quit the job.” 

You nearly crashed the car at his words, jerking the steering wheel back as you computed his words. “What?”

“I mean,” he turned in his seat to face you, his hair catching the last pieces of moonlight and shimmering against his skin. “I’ve always hated my job. And I already wrote a resignation letter and everything.” 

“Oh.” 

He must’ve noticed your silence, because he quickly continued. “Who knows? I might try being a rockstar or something.” 

“A rockstar?” You let out an astonished laugh. Vernon Chwe seemed to be surprising you at every turn, even when you felt like you'd already figured him out. 

He hummed. “Yeah. It just keeps..calling me, y’know?”

“Well then you should go for it.” You parked into the driveway of his apartment complex and turned to face him. “Really.”

“You think so?” His eyes were sparkling like precious jewels. 

“Yeah. I do.”

Even though you knew that meant your next note would be your last. 

Y/N: -10 Vernon: 3 The universe: -10

The office seemed even colder without the presence of Vernon around you. Even though he had always kept to himself, you could feel the lack of “Vernon” in the atmosphere. How he’d entrance you with the funny way he’d walk down the hall, his countless snack breaks and your shared copier trips. But most of all- it was the lack of notes.

“First day without Mr. Cubicle Number 218, how do you feel?” Anne asked you from her own desk. “Although, I guess he’s not 218 anymore, huh?”

“Yeah.” You stared dejectedly at your computer screen. “This job sucks.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re quitting too.” Anne let out a loud sigh. “I still think you should’ve told him you liked him.”

“I did!” You protested, rather loudly, drawing odd looks from nearby coworkers. 

“You played a sex song in the car.” Anne pointed out, lowering her voice. “That is not confessing.” 

“Well he should’ve put two and two together. The lyrics on the note was from that song.”

Anne laughed. “We’re talking about the male species. They wouldn’t know subtlety if it ran them over with a truck.” 

“Whatever.” You muttered, returning to sulk in front of your giant mountain of paperwork. “He definitely didn’t like me like that anyways.” Sifling through the papers, you sighed. “I’m going to fax these, I’ll be right back.” 

Anne only hummed, too engrossed by whatever she was reading on her phone. 

Opening up the copier, you frowned at the paper already sitting there, a hot pink post-it note with messy handwriting scrawled on it. 

“With all the variables in life, baby can you be my constant?” 

You didn’t remember writing this. 

“Call me ;)” 

A loud laugh escaped you as you covered your mouth, looking around to make sure you hadn’t been caught loitering in the copy room once again. Grabbing your phone from your pocket you fumbled the numbers on the bottom of the note in, raising it to your ear as you listened to it ring. 

“Hello?” You whispered, cupping your hand around your mouth to avoid detection. 

Silence.

“Vernon?” 

The sound of shuffling from the other line reached your ears. “You didn’t think I was just going to leave without saying goodbye, right?”

“Vernon?” 

“Actually, pretend I didn’t say that.” 

Your heart puttered to a stop.

“When can I see you again?” 

Y/N: 0 Vernon: ♾️ The universe: 0

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!!! i absolutely love your writing and am evidently irrevocably in love with wolfstar. i just got my wisdom teeth taken out, and i know you already wrote something for poly!marauders with that, but could i request something for poly!wolfstar taking care of reader a few days after? so less loopy and more pain with lots of fluff and cuddles! feel free to ignore, love you darling!

Thanks for requesting lovely! Hope you feel better soon <3

cw: allusion to chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 627 words

“Hello,” Sirius says when the front door shushes open. He starts to fold over the page of his magazine. He hardly catches a bit of motion from the corner of his eye before you’re flopping down on top of him, forcing a soft oof from his sternum. “Oh, hello. Everything okay?”

You make a tortured groaning sound, forehead pushing into his neck.

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” Remus passes a loving hand over Sirius’ head in greeting, en route to the kitchen. “I’ll get your ice.”

“Aw,” Sirius tuts, letting his magazine lay tented over your back. He palms the back of your head gently. “Hard first day back at work?”

“It feels like it hurts worse,” you mumble into the space below his throat. The tip of your nose is cool where it presses to his skin. “I’m so tired.”

“Oh, I know, baby.” Sirius kisses the top of your head. “It’s not very fair, is it?”

“Pain is tiring,” Remus agrees. He passes Sirius an ice pack to settle against your cheek, holding onto another while he leans on the back of the couch. “It’ll get better over the next few days. Tomorrow should be easier.”

“I can’t think about tomorrow.” Your voice is softer, lips barely moving as Sirius holds the ice to your jaw. You shift your face from his neck, turning your eyes up to his. “Keep me here forever?”

Sirius feels his mouth spread in a grin. “You know I will, gorgeous. And I’ll do you one better, lift your head and I’ll put two ice packs on your cheeks.”

You pick your head up as directed. Remus passes Sirius the other ice pack, and he sandwiches your face between the two with a smile. Your poor cheeks are swollen and bruised, but Sirius thinks you look lovely despite it, even pouting the way you are. You look between your boyfriends as though waiting for them to do something about it.

Remus breaks first. “Oh, my love.” He gives a pitying laugh, folding over the back of the couch to hug your shoulders. “I’m sorry. The pain won’t last much longer, though. Just give yourself some time to heal.”

“Count yourself lucky you had wisdom to take,” Sirius says. “I didn’t have anything they wanted at all.”

“I’m so tired of this,” you sigh, leaning into Remus. “Sorry, I know it’s only been a couple of days, just. It’s just constant, you know?”

Remus hums. He knows better than most, better than Sirius for sure. Sirius feels overcome by a fond protectiveness for you both.

He touches a pinkie to Remus’ forearm where it’s wrapped around your clavicle. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says, rubbing. “It’s cruel and unjust to have either of you ever work again. I won’t entertain it.”

“Oh, you’re going to be our sole breadwinner now?” Remus asks, smiling.

“Quite right. I’ll need the two of you to carry your weight in homemaking, of course, but I’ll manage the rest.”

“And you reckon your income can cover our portions of the rent and groceries and all that?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, darling. It’s well in hand.”

“Let me lie about for the rest of the week,” you sigh. “Then I’ll go back to work and you can stay here, Rem.”

Remus turns his smile into the top of your head, nose denting into your hair. “Yeah? You sure?”

“M’sure.” You shut your eyes. Sirius grins at Remus, thinking that he has about thirty seconds to change positions before you fall asleep and he has to hold you this way all night. “Just need a few days.”

But Remus will indulge you in anything; he stays perfectly still. “Sure, sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your head. “Whatever you need.”

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

everything abt ur work is so so soooo good!!! do u think if u have the time u could write smth abt chan making the reader squirt? hehe n ofc w the daddy kink too

anyways i love u have a great day!!

does it feel like a big one?

pairing: daddy!chan x princess!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2ss and ~1k words

warnings: daddy kink, pet names, squirting, fingering, toys, praise, edging

an: god i’m so fucking feral. idek if this is any good. i wrote it in a needy haze, i blacked out. idk what happened. anon, thanks for your request. loving you. ♡

masterlist

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

and that’s how you ended up here.

it had started off slow, your gentle daddy rubbing his hands against your skin, his fingertips ghosting over every inch of your naked body. he teased a little. his fingers would glide over your mound but only for a second, before they were traveling back up your tummy. he would circle his fingers around your bare nipples, squeezing your breasts softly in his palms.

he kissed your lips, smiling against them, before kissing down to your chest. his kisses feather light as he moved farther down. you thought he may put his mouth on your most sensitive area. you hoped he would. but it was just more faint kisses. more teasing.

“why are you so squirmy, baby? huh?”

you couldn’t keep your legs still, couldn’t keep your hips still. your body was in search of him. in need of him. you whined.

“nuh uh. no whining, remember?” he gently scolded. “daddy is just getting started.”

he spread your legs and knelt on the mattress between them. you were fully open for him and you were wet. he could see it, and you could feel it. the air in the room feeling suddenly cold on your sensitive lips.

he ran his fingertips along your thighs, up between your legs, ghosting over your damp sex, until he finally touched you. a real touch. with his index finger, he rubbed soft circles against your clit. he watched as your body reacted, your legs trying to clamp shut around his arm, but he held them in place.

“so sensitive, princess.” he breathed. “that’s good. that’s what we want for this.”

his fingers traveled down and dipped ever so slightly in your pool of arousal, but he didn’t penetrate. the feeling still sent shivers over your whole body.

“you are so beautiful.” he said, leaning down to kiss your tummy. he couldn’t help himself. he wanted to kiss you all over. wanted to shove his tongue inside you. but he had to wait. he had to be patient.

he leaned over you and grabbed the toy off the nightstand. it was just a little vibrating wand. you hummed in anticipation. “mm your eyes got wide at this, baby.” he said, clicking the device on, a quiet buzzing filling your ears. “you want this?”

you nodded, frantically. but that wasn’t enough. “words baby.”

“please, daddy. i want it. please.”

your begging went straight to his cock. your high pitched, watery pleas for him to give you what you want made him ache.

he pressed the toy against you clit for a second before pulling it away. your body convulsed. he pressed it to you again, only for a second. he did this a few times before finally leaving it against you, letting it do its work. it didn’t take long for you to reach the edge.

“don’t you dare cum, baby.” he warned. “you tell daddy when you’re close.”

“i’m close! i’m close!” you immediately yelled. and he pulled his hand away. he gave you a moment to relax, running the vibrator up your tummy and around your nipples before eventually bringing it back to your puffy little clit.

he held it there again, and after a minute or two, you were warning him again of your impending orgasm. he brought you to the edge 3 or 4 times before he slowly slipped his fingers inside your drippy hole.

you babbled incoherently as he slid 2 fingers inside you, curling them up to touch your favorite spot. “i think you’re ready, princess.”

his fingers felt so good, you were finally getting some stimulation. your body was so on edge. you felt so.. full. but not in the way you were used to. you felt full in a way that needed release. he started to slide his fingers in and out, gradually getting faster. he brought the vibrator back to your clit as he continued to finger you.

“oh my god..” you whined. “fuck..”

“careful with your language baby.” he warned. “it just feels so good, huh?”

you nodded, your fists gripping the sheets, your eyes squeezed shut as your head turned back and forth. he could feel you clamping down on his fingers, making it hard for him to move them.

“are you gonna cum baby?” he asked. “does it feel like a big one?”

“mhm.” you said. “it.. it feels like i need to potty.”

“that’s okay, angel. you just relax and let it go, okay? can you do that for me?” his fingers pumped in and out of you, your clit was almost numb from the constant vibration, and wet squelching sounds filled the room. “you can do it baby. cum for daddy.”

as you started to moan louder and louder, your body shaking, liquid started to pool around his fingers. he pulled them out quickly, leaving the vibrator on your clit. your release squirted out, coating the bed and his chest and arms in creamy little droplets.

“fuck.” he panted. “there you go, baby. good girl.”

it came in waves as your orgasm crashed over you. as your body convulsed, more would squirt out until you were empty. your body went limp. he turned the vibrator off, gently leaning down to kiss your skin, anywhere he could reach. your tummy, your chest, your neck, your jaw.

“are you doin okay, little one?” he asked.

you nodded, trying to catch your breath.

“you did it.” he said, kissing your temple. “daddy’s so proud of you. i knew you could do it. and it was so hot, baby.”

your eyes fluttered open, and you turned your head to face him. “really?”

his plush lips met yours. “yes really. you’re so sexy, baby. so perfect.”

“mm” you hummed, rubbing your nose against his. “love you, daddy.”

“i love you, princess.” he rutted into you, his clothed cock rubbing against your thigh. “you gonna let daddy use you now?” he asked. “i’ll be quick. let me fill you up, baby.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

i’m obviously not a squirt expert lol this is just from my experience.

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[nachrosas]

QUANTUM FEELINGS | s.reid x reader

summary: in which you said "i love you" to spencer when he's a little drunk. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: just spencer being a little drunk in this one! word count: 915 a/n: night, night! thank you so much anon for requesting this (my first request ever), i hope it turned out well! hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated! also, my inbox is always open to chat! till the next one!

Your living room was immersed in soft light, projected by the lamp in the corner of the room. Empty wine bottles lay on the coffee table as if they were telling the story of a night that had gotten completely out of hand. You were sitting on the sofa, watching Spencer lying on the floor on the dog, his cheeks flushed from drinking so much and the tie he insisted on wearing was now loose, falling awkwardly over his crumpled shirt.

“You know…” he began, pointing a trembling finger upwards as if to reveal something new. “Do you know that quantum entanglement is… is… basically proof that the universe is a real walking paradox?”

You tried to hold back a laugh, but the grimace on his face made you fail miserably. “Spence, I don't understand quantum physics.”

He raised his head a little, his eyes shining with a mixture of indignation and enthusiasm. “It's very simple!” he insisted, even though his speech was totally slurred. “Two particles are completely connected, no matter how far apart they are. If one changes, so does the other. It's like… instantaneous! And nobody knows how it works! Is it… fascinating? Terrifying? Sad?”

“Sad?” you asked, curious about what he had said.

“Yes!” he stood up carelessly, almost knocking over the bottles on the table. “Because… because… that means that although everything is connected, at the same time we are so… isolated. As if each person were a particle desperately trying to find their half, but never…never…”

The sentence hung in the air, lost between the pauses and the weight of the drink in Spencer's system.

You leaned forward, resting your chin on one of your hands as you watched him. “Spence.” you said softly, your voice with a tone of affection that overflowed before you could control it. “That's why I love you so much.”

He blinked, surprised, the silence filling the space between you as if there were a third person present. Perhaps because of the alcoholic state he was in, or the confusion in his expression, he gave a low, disconnected laugh, shaking his head as if he had just heard something quite absurd.

“I love tangled particles too,” he muttered, before downing the rest of the wine he'd found in a glass.

And you laughed, but the sound that escaped your lips seemed more nervous than you wanted.

The sun streamed into the room through the ajar curtains, the kind of light that had only one purpose: to irritate someone with a hangover. Spencer woke up slowly, pressing his eyes shut as a slight pain throbbed at the base of his head. He let out a low groan, feeling the bitter taste of wine and regret fill his mouth.

The muffled sound of plates and cups coming from the direction of the kitchen brought a small semblance of normality but also ignited disconnected fragments of the night before in his mind. The conversation about quantum physics, his inability to articulate ideas clearly, and… something else.

He stood up slowly, rubbing his face with his hands as he tried to remember more. Quantum entanglement, isolation… laughter… and…

“That's why I love you.”

The words echoed like a bucket of cold water thrown in his face, so unexpected and clear that they made his mind freeze in place. He tried to rationalize. You must have said it as a joke. Or something that came out in the heat of the moment. But the tone you used… was gentle, totally natural.

Getting up slowly, he stumbled to your bedroom door, still wearing his crumpled shirt and loose tie, as a reminder of all the chaos that had been the night before. When he reached the kitchen, he saw you, casual as ever, stirring something in a mug.

“Good morning, my favorite Einstein.” you joked when you saw him. “How's your head after that magnificent lecture on particles in love?”

He stood still for a moment, waiting for his brain to process his speech. “I've been better.” he replied, his voice hoarse, as he looked away from her to the bench.

“Coffee?” you offered, holding out the mug in your hands.

He accepted it without hesitation, his fingers still slightly trembling. “I… talked a lot of garbage yesterday, didn't I?”

You shrugged, still smiling. “Well, it was quite a trip. But don't worry, I didn't judge your ramblings about cosmic loneliness.”

He let out a mirthless laugh, but the discomfort was still there, pulsing beneath the surface of his chest. As you turned your attention to the stove, he allowed himself to stop and watch you for a moment. The way you acted as if nothing had happened made him wonder if it had really mattered — or if he was just dwelling on something too small.

“Thanks for… um… looking after me last night.” he murmured, without looking directly at you.

“Sure, Spence.” you replied casually, with an easy smile. ”What are friends, if not entangled particles, right?”

He choked on his coffee, the phrase reviving his memory even more vividly of the night before. But instead of answering you, he just lowered his head and sipped his coffee.

At that moment, he realized that the discomfort he felt in his heart didn't come from your words, but from the way they made him feel. It was something new, unexpected. Something he couldn't imagine how he was going to explore, but he was sure he wouldn't be able to ignore.