#i’m so blown away by the support for this fic!!

[ssukidesu]

what friends do

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: T

Nalu Week 2024 ( @allaboutnalu @thenaluarchive )

Summary: Lucy gets a little too happy and does something (maybe not) regrettable.

Chapter 6: what counts as a cheap shot (injury)

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 7

Read on AO3

Read under the cut

1… 2… 3… 4…

Shit, shit, shit!

Lucy’s mind raced through her options and found them limited, to say the very least.

The man pinning her front to the floor was laughing cruelly. His knee was on the center of her back, and her hands were pinned together beneath it, right on the meat of his calf. She felt a bead of sweat drip onto her neck from above.

5… 6… 7…

Options… options… what were her options? She could try to dig her nails into his hands, but that almost never worked. She could try to buck him off, but she could tell he was pushing almost all his body weight onto her back—she had no shot. She could…

Aha!

He was leaning on her from her right side, and the leg that wasn’t digging into her back had to be bracing somewhere for balance. From what she could tell, it was probably somewhere by the bottom half of her legs. If she could just…

8… 9…

In one movement, Lucy bent her right knee and swung back her foot—and prayed. Thankfully, her toes clipped his shin, and she managed to sweep his leg off the ground, throwing off his balance. Immediately, the weight on her back lessened, and she rolled onto her back. He still had her hands gripped together, but the momentum of her movement ruined his balance even more, and she landed her knee right into his stomach.

With the wind knocked out of him, she could yank her hands free and scramble back to her feet.

Fists poised near her face, Lucy bounced on her toes.

And smiled.

“Damn, Lucy… really thought I had ya there,” said her sparring partner, Natsu, who was flicking the sweat off his bangs and shaking loose his stiff fingers. “And at the last second, too!”

“What can I say?” she bragged. “I’m getting better.”

Natsu and Lucy began to circle each other again, both trying to spy an opportunity to lunge.

This scene was becoming a more frequent one lately. No magic, no tricks—just pure, hand-to-hand sparring. It was Lucy’s idea; Natsu was always asking her to fight him, but she knew she had no shot in hell if it was a real spar with magic. So, after coming up with some stipulations, she proposed this compromise.

While the rules were appropriately adjusted for a male-versus-female fight, she knew he’d never go easy on her. Yes, the requirements were that he had to pin her for ten seconds while she only had to pin him for three—but no one would be fooled to think that he was being nice.

The evidence?

…She had never won.

Don’t misunderstand—she’d gotten close, a few times. But it was just like him to pull through in the last moment and, if anything, manipulate his previous vulnerability into being an advantage in the very next moment. She’d complain about it, but, well… would she love him if he were any different than how he was?

Lucy pursed her lips and blew a puff of air upward to get her bangs out of her eyes. She knew he’d come at her any second, and that would be her moment to attack. There’d be no openings until then.

His expression was concentrated—it was confident and competitive. He knew he had the upper hand, as he always did, but Lucy recognized that Natsu truly did find joy in making her stronger—in testing to see if this time was when she’d finally beat him.

He lunged. He went for her middle, his shoulder lowering so that he could get her around the waist. He was fast, but she was hoping he’d make this move; it was one with which he’d defeated her many times before.

Yes—this time, she was ready for it.

She went lower. She was almost on the ground; if he was a taller man, she wouldn’t have to sweep so close to the floor to avoid his arms. She passed by him on the left, clipped his foot with hers, and reveled in the sound of his body thunking heavily on the mat. His momentum had already been moving forward—he’d normally be too sturdy to trip outright, but his own shifting body weight worked against him.

Now behind him, she moved like lightning to grab his right leg. She gripped his ankle with her right hand, then threw her entire body over his shirtless back so that his ankle would be lodged over her shoulder. She had no hope of holding it with just her hand, but if she could manage to keep her own body down, she might be able to hold him in place.

Her left hand perhaps pulled a cheap shot—but those were allowed for her (with obvious exceptions, such as his eyes and his family jewels). She tangled her fingers into his hair at the base and clenched her fist. She wasn’t mean enough to pull his hair, but this, she hoped, would provide a big enough distraction from the rest of his body that the three seconds could pass.

1…

Since his hands were free, his first instinct was to grope at the hand in his hair. He was muttering all the while, “Shit… Lucy—” in a gritty voice that might have made her stomach flip.

2…

But he was a quick thinker. Noticing the mobility he still had with both hands, he pushed his torso off the ground—much like a regular push up—and to get his leg and back free of her, he tucked to crash down on his left side. Lucy went with him, of course—and unfortunately, it jostled her off his back.

Ugh! So close—!

But she couldn’t dwell on that now: she was still on the ground, and he’d be a fool not to take advantage. She was propped up on her side, but as he flung himself to grab her, she learned that he was set on forcing her on her back. In a flash, he had her wrists in his left hand, her hips pressed down under his right forearm, and her two legs raised so that her hamstrings were pinned under his thighs. She could move them slightly and straighten her knees, but that sort of thing didn’t matter. With her hips pinned down, she wouldn’t be able to buck him off.

Well, she thought—his hot, panting breaths washing over her face—this is a new one.

1…

There’s no way I can get out of this one, she thought, trying desperately to wrench her wrists from his grip. He smiled pridefully at her fruitless efforts.

2… 3…

He’s so close. Their eyes were locked—hers wide in panic, his half-mast in arrogance. If I wanted to, I could…

Wait.

…That might work.

Let it be known that, for the record, there was a lot of blood pumping into Lucy’s brain at that moment, and whether this idea was a reasonable one would be an object of her own future scrutiny.

“I really do appreciate this, Natsu,” she muttered, her lungs tight from her raised arms.

4… 5…

He blinked, pupils dilating. Their faces might have been three inches apart. “‘Course,” he said amiably, though his brow quirked in suspicion.

6…

“I’m happy that I’m getting stronger because of you,” she mused.

His breathing halted. His eyes widened, and he froze.

7…

Her blond hair was splayed out beneath her. It had shaken so loose from its ponytail that it might as well have not been tied at all. With the little mobility she had, she raised her chin and lifted her head off the ground. His eyes widened further, but he didn’t pull himself away.

8…

Her lips pressed against his cheek, close to his jaw. It was covered in sweat, but not the kind that made his skin slick. It was sticky, and the tender skin of her lips clung to the touch in a way that made the action seem even more intimate than it was.

Or maybe that was due to the fact that he was pressed quite thoroughly against her in a manner that was more than a little suggestive.

9…

She pulled away, and his half-lidded eyes were fixated on her mouth.

She felt his grip on her wrists weaken.

In one mighty test of strength, Lucy jerked her hands from his hold, placed them on his head for leverage, and pushed herself upward just enough that her legs were freed from the hold of his own. She gripped the wrist of the arm that had been below her stomach, hooked the underside of her knee around his torso, and heaved until she’d flipped them both. At the end of it, he was on his back, and she had his right arm bent behind his back—just shy of the point of dislocation. Her legs were on either side of him; she’d sat herself just below his groin.

Lucy was relieved to be free, but she knew her success would be short-lived; there was no way she could keep him in this hold. Other than her body weight on top of him and his one (much stronger) hand in the grip of her own, she had no way to secure him.

So why wasn’t he moving?

1…

Natsu was just staring up at her, lips parted and brows furrowed. His left hand, which was completely free, was splayed out to the side, motionless.

2…

Lucy wondered if she’d hurt him in the movement somehow—but she scratched away the thought just as quickly. This guy could take a boulder to the skull and break the boulder; surely there was nothing she did in that tussle that hurt him.

Well, except maybe one thing…

“Three,” she breathed.

Neither moved. She watched a couple different emotions flash over his face; first, confusion—as if he wasn’t sure what she was talking about; then, self-abhorring displeasure. He exhaled loudly through his nose and let his head drop an inch to rest fully on the ground.

His lip curled, and his eyes narrowed. “Ouch.”

Lucy released a single laugh. She let go of his arm and brought both of hers to brace on his chest. “What, did I hurt you somewhere?” she asked doubtfully.

“Nope,” he huffed. “Just my pride.”

She smiled with her tongue between her teeth. “Finally,” she giggled against his skin. “I finally won!”

Natsu scoffed, but he brought his newly-freed hand to play with her hair, which had devolved into tangles around the elastic band. He fumbled to loosen it, but gave up after figuring it was a lost cause.

Lucy rolled off of him and stood before offering him a hand. He took it despondently, and they made their way to the bench.

“I think we should add that to the list of cheap shots you aren’t allowed to take,” he grumbled, chugging from his water bottle.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” she drawled. “I was just thanking you for all your help. What’s cheap about that?”

He gave her a flat look that seemed to say, You know exactly what was cheap about it.

Lucy shrugged. “I guess I might have been hoping it’d throw you off…”

“Hoping? Lucy, it wasn’t fair! You’d be saying the same thing if I’d done it to you!”

Lucy had to take care not to choke on her water as she took a sip. The image of him kissing her on the cheek in the middle of any of the positions he’d had her in before…

Well. She supposed she understood his point.

She watched him tug his shirt back on, and she threw the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Natsu,” she began, as cute as she could manage. She walked backwards to look at him as she led the way out of the gym. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Natsu always liked questions like that. His lips tilted into a smirk. “Cook me dinner.”

She should have known he’d say that. Rolling her eyes, she turned her back to him and pushed open the door. “Fine,” she said sulkily.

But the stubborn grin on her face wouldn’t go away.

[iwannaleavemymind]

Gamer!Choso continuation that’s been so highly anticipated and begged for…

As always, minors DNI you will be blocked

Thank you for all the love and support and getting me to 300 followers in just two weeks I love you guys so so much!!❤️❤️❤️

(Incorporating a little bit of my beloved sadism into this fic too🙏)

Let’s make I mean watch a movie!!

Gamer!Choso getting annoyed when you ignore him because your carried away in your own little game; prettily sat down at your own gaming set up with monitors and pcs with cameras set up for your live stream.

Gamer!Choso showing up on the stream with a loose black shirt and a silver cross necklace on- no doubt getting a little bit of thirsty comments about him in the chat.

“Babe take a break your streams been long enough dont cha’ think hmm?”

“Cho’ I can’t I have two hours left for the live stream. Sorry baby.”

Gamer!Choso bides his time bit by bit reading by the chat comments about their relationship, little jabs at your shared patreon together asking when the next movie will come out, whispering dirty little nothings into your ear.

Gamer!Choso slowly leads his hands down to your thighs, gently tugging the sides of them up up and up closer to your soaking wet cunt. Earning a little slap on his hand for distracting you from a match.

“Cho! I’m live and I almost lost.” You say to him, quiet enough so the mic doesn’t pick up what you say to him.

Gamer!Choso laughs at your attitude and pretends to walk off camera- only to slip under your desk and yank down your loose shorts to toy with your clothes clit, your arousal soaked through the thin fabric of your panties.

Gamer!Choso degrading and toying with your clit, desperately trying to keep your composure while you’re on the live stream, little huffs and pants coming from your lips- blaming it on how hard the match is going.

“Shh baby we don’t want them to hear that slutty lil mouth of your hmm?”

Gamer!Choso whispering to you with his head between your legs, spreading your thighs apart and yanking your panties down your bare thighs, discarding them to the side exposing your soaked and needy pussy to him.

“Princess? You like this don’t you?”

Gamer!Choso flicking his tongue along your clit, eating you out like a starved man in the middle of the dessert. And you were soaked enough to sustain that thirst for him-

Gamer!Choso nibbling lightly on your clit, his tongue slipping into your dripping cunt and swirling his tongue along your soaking wet folds, sliding a finger into your core and resuming his relentless assault on your throbbing clit with his oh so mean tongue.

Gamer!Choso makes your composure so hard to keep- making up an excuse to leave the stream for a ‘bathroom break’ only to turn off the camera- but your sloppy cunt makes it so hard to think straight; drunk on his tongue sliding up and down and circling your clit- his fingers stimulating your g spot over and over making your legs tremble- your fingers fumble with the keys turning the camera off- but not the audio!?

“Oh you poor thing- having to stop your stream just f’me baby? Don’t worry it’ll be worth your time~” he whispers against your sensitive core- his words echoing in the dumbed out walls of your mind, hands tangling in his hair and eyes shut in pleasure.

Gamer!Choso increases the pace of his fingers, flicking his tongue across your clit faster and sloppier until you come all over his tongue, your juices soaking his lips and dribbling down his chin.

“She fuckin loves me hm? Better give ‘er what she wants uh huh?”

Gamer!Choso overstimulating your poor pussy with his tongue, sloppily eating you out and simultaneously slipping his fingers in and out of your core at a hungry crazed pace, loud hazed moans slipping past your lips your pupils blown wide and legs shaking with overstimulation, your thighs neatly squishing his face in your favorite place between your thighs.

“So sweet- so sloppy n’ needy baby.”

Gamer!Choso slapping your pussy in retaliation, he’s so mean teasing your oncoming orgasm, ceasing all movement between his tongue and his fingers.

“Beg for it slut.”

Gamer!Choso loooves making you work for it, making sweet little please and whimpers flow from your lips and thighs shaking around his head, biting into the sensitive flesh leaving a hickey as his reward.

“Fuck- that’s what I wanna hear baby.”

Gamer!Choso fucking you with his tongue sloppier than before, the noise of your slick and drenched pussy reverberating throughout the room, his thick fingers fucking your g-spot juuust right.

Gamer!Choso isn’t done with your until you squirt all over his face- your release coating his lips in a clear sheen and your cum slipping down his neck right into his loose black shirt, no doubt satisfied with his job well done.

Gamer!Choso’s eyes widening when he sees your fucked out expression- and the chat blowing up with comments about your sweet little moans!?

“Oh fuck baby we might need to give ‘em another movie huh?”

[mononijikayu]

ni yao de ai — ryomen sukuna.

“We saw you look up at your girlfriend after that game-winning spike. What was running through your head?” And Sukuna, grinning like a fool. “Ahhh, just hoping she’s proud of me, you know?” Then it became bigger and bigger. One after the other, he could not shut up. He was, after all, too damn in love. “Your girlfriend’s reaction went viral after your match. Do you watch those clips together?” And Sukuna, without missing a beat. “Hell yeah, we do. I send her all my favorite edits. Couple goals, you know?”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Volleyball! AU;

Warning/s: General Rating, AFAB! Reader, Use of She/Her, Use of Female Centered Identification, Pet Names (Babe, My Love, Baby, Etc), Romance, Fluff, Humour, Love, Comfort/No Hurt, Established Relationship, Lovers, Dating, Feeling, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Idiots In Love, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Healthy Relationship, Friendships, Profanity, Volleyball Pro! Sukuna, Astrophysicist! Reader, Boyfriend! Sukuna, Girlfriend! Reader;

Words: 6k words.

Note: i'm working on the actor nanami fic, so here is something for you to enjoy while you wait for that. also, i keep thinking about how sukuna would have been like pro-hero bakugo had he not been dating reader. like, he would be so good at volleyball, but he would be so eager to be blunt about absolutely everything and just be so crass, you know??? anyway, our sukuna managed to not be like that, cause he's #1 lover boy first. enjoy this!!! see you in a couple days!! i love you!!! <3

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THIS WAS NOT OUT OF THE ORDINARY NOWADAYS, FOR YOU TO SIT HERE. Your long-time boyfriend, professional volleyball player Ryomen Sukuna, has always been a bit of a big deal. Well, you try to not make it to be but you both know that it is.

He was undeniably talented, incredibly confident, and dangerously charismatic. But it wasn’t until this past year, when he officially made Japan’s national team and became their standout player, that his star practically exploded.

And with that… came you.

You didn’t ask for it at all. The attention, the headlines, the fan-cams. However, by virtue of loving Sukuna, you had become a fair bit of a participant in his stardom. And it wasn’t like Sukuna did it on purpose. 

Well, actually he kind of did. Because if there was one thing about your boyfriend, it was that he never shied away from publicly loving you. In fact, he leaned in. Hard.

And you?

You could never say no to him when he asked. Ever. Because you loved him as he is, and that includes loving you. And if supporting him meant occasionally being pulled into the spotlight alongside him. Well… you’d do it a million times over. That’s how much you loved him. 

It started small at first.

Little moments here and there.

Well, he tried to ease you into it.

Like when Sukuna played his first international match for Japan, and you sat quietly in the front row with his family. You thought you were being lowkey, just there to support your love. But the cameras caught you. Multiple times. Your face blown up on the jumbotron — smiling, proud, hands clasped in silent prayer every time he served.

Sukuna noticed you on the screen mid-game, and instead of ignoring it like any normal athlete would. And then he would go on and smirk. Then almost like he can’t help it, he winked at you. On live television. You damn near sank into the earth.

The clip instantly blew up on Twitter. 

Everyone on the internet lost its mind. 

Suddenly there were viral captions like:

“When the national team’s ace makes eye contact with his girl mid-game and winks?????”

“The way he’s SO unapologetically in love I’m crying.”

“The girlfriend has MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY I’m obsessed.”

And you? You just wanted to disappear.

Ryomen Sukuna, on the other hand, ate it up.

“You see how they love us, babe?” he grinned later that night, scrolling through TikTok edits of you two.

“My love, I was literally just sitting there.”

“Nahhh, you were the cutest girlfriend alive.”

“Stop watching the videos, I look like I was going to hurl because of nervousness.”

“Nope. I’m obsessed with us. Sorry, babe.”

But then it started escalating. Almost too quickly. The more Ryomen Sukuna won on the national stage. And the more the media realized he could not shut up about you. The more you started to become a topic. At first, it was small questions during post-game conferences.

“We saw you look up at your girlfriend after that game-winning spike. What was running through your head?”

And Sukuna, grinning like a fool. “Ahhh, just hoping she’s proud of me, you know?”

Then it became bigger and bigger.

One after the other, he could not shut up.

He was, after all, too damn in love.

“Your girlfriend’s reaction went viral after your match. Do you watch those clips together?”

And Sukuna, without missing a beat. “Hell yeah, we do. I send her all my favorite edits. Couple goals, you know?”

And suddenly you were trending on Twitter at every single match. 

People started calling you “Japan’s National Team Girlfriend”. 

There were TikToks like “POV: You’re dating an Olympic-level volleyball player and he’s obsessed with you”. Someone even made a fan account dedicated to you. Some people are making fan accounts about the two of you. It was just insane.

You were horrified about it.

You never expected this.

Sukuna, however, was thriving.

“Babe, you’re famous now.”

“I am just—this is crazy, my love. I didn’t think this for myself.”

“Too bad. You’re dating a national treasure. That makes you one too.”

“You're the only national treasure here, not me—”

“Wrong. We’re a package deal. We always have been, babe.”

“Well, fuck. Looks like I gotta know how to deal with this.” You sighed, leaning into the couch. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I love you so much.” He says, looking at you with those warm loving eyes. “Very much.”

You sighed, moving close to lean into him. “I love you too. Very much.”

And then, of course, came the Vogue interview soon after that.

Sukuna got asked to do a pre-Olympic feature for Vogue Japan. It was going to be a full-blown video interview and magazine spread to highlight him as the country’s volleyball superstar heading to his first Olympic Games. 

You didn’t think much of it at first—until Sukuna casually mentioned. “They wanna do a segment with you, too.”

You froze. “Wait. What?”

“Yeah, you know….like those….interviews we watch.” Sukuna said it, like it was the most casual thing. “Like a couples segment. You know. Cute shit.”

“Okay, but this is insane. I don’t think I’m good enough to be interviewed for a magazine like Vogue.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the most beautiful and smartest person in the world, like the coolest. How could you not be in the magazines?”

“You’re just saying this cause you’re biased.”

“So?” He snickered, leaning closer to you like a cat to his owner. “Isn’t my opinion the only thing that matters?”

“My love, please—”

“Babe, come on. It’ll be fun. Just some quick questions. I’ll be right there with you.”

“Are you sure you want me there?”

“I always want you with me.” He whispers to you, eyes adoringly looking at you. Almost begging. “Please come with me.…I’ll make it worth your while later.”

You can’t say no to him. Not like this. Not ever. You sighed. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

And so, here you are now, right beside your boyfriend, in this studio.

The massive studio hummed with quiet energy. You could feel the subtle buzz of camera equipment, the low chatter of the production crew, and the muffled thuds of footsteps as people flitted around making last-minute adjustments.

Despite the growing tension in the room, there was one person who looked like he couldn’t be less bothered and that was Ryomen Sukuna himself. Your beloved Sukuna is now Japan’s top star volleyball player right now.

The man who was about to debut in his very first Olympic Games. And yet he sat there like he was in his living room, entirely unruffled by the cameras or the fact that the world was about to have their eyes glued on him.

To him, this was just like any other day. It was nothing special, nothing worth that much of a fuzz. It’s media day. Well, of course he was with you. That was always something that made him happy.

But the occasion in itself just as it was, like on all work days.

It truly did make sense for him to be like that.

After all, Sukuna had been through enough media circus for the past few years. With all the pre-game conferences, after-game interviews, constant media coverage during training camps.

By now, cameras had become like background noise to him. Even though he wasn’t the most camera-savvy person, he had long accepted that it came with the job. As much as you have.

Though, you know it was just still so insane. This level of fame was not something you expected to see. But well, what can you do? Your boyfriend is an ace at anything he does, and he always will be.

So here he was now, gold chain glinting under the bright studio lights, his long arm draped casually behind your chair as if he had all the time in the world. His thumb, rough, calloused from years of playing was tenderly brushed the curve of your shoulder absentmindedly, warm and familiar. His long legs were spread obnoxiously wide, his knee brushing against yours like it belonged there.

You, however, were fighting down a giggle like you did when you were both younger. It wasn’t fair how good he looked in front of the camera. Your Sukuna was in his official team Japan tracksuit, sleeves shoved up to his elbows, exposing his tattooed forearms.

His messy pink hair was styled back, just enough for his sharp jawline to be obnoxiously prominent and his signature smug grin made it look like he had already won gold before even stepping onto the court.

And then like he could feel you staring, Sukuna leaned toward you. 

You raised a brow as you finally noticed his ruby eyes tender on you.

“What? There something on my face?”

“Bet I can answer faster than you, babe.” His voice dropped low, just for you to hear, the gravel in his tone sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You snorted, glancing at him. “Yeah, okay. Just don’t embarrass me, my love.”

His grin sharpened, canines flashing. “No promises, babe.”

You groaned to yourself.

You were so screwed.

He’s competitive even on this.

The interviewer settles in her seat across from you both, a friendly smile on her face. “Alright, we’re rolling!” she calls out. “Let’s give them a warm welcome!”

The crew claps behind the camera and you and Sukuna stand up, quickly bowing your heads lowly to everyone in the room, greeting them politely one by one. The crew did the same, with eyes full of awe as they both looked at you two as you sat down.

“Alright, hello everyone!” the interviewer finally smiled, straightening in her seat. “We’re here today with Ryomen Sukuna, Japan’s powerhouse volleyball player heading to his very first Olympic Games — and we’ve got his longtime girlfriend, [Your Name], who is also a Astrophysics researcher joining us today!”

Sukuna perked up a little at that introduction, his grin widening. “Renowned, huh?” He turned to you, his voice dropping low, teasing. “Damn, babe. Are you that famous now, my baby?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting down a smile. “Says the Olympic athlete. Let’s not do this, please.”

The interviewer laughed. “We are so excited to have you both here. Thank you for making time despite your hectic schedules — especially you, [Your Name]. I imagine taking a break from Astrophysics research work isn’t easy?”

“Oh—” you started, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, I really shouldn’t have gotten a break. I was actually supposed to have a research advisory today…”

Sukuna turned to you sharply, his brows raising. “Wait—what?”

You blinked. “…Huh, what?”

“You never told me that. I thought you just got permission.” Sukuna scoffed, his head tilting. “Babe, you really have a major advisory today? How the hell did you get off work?”

“Ohhh, yeah…” you cringed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Yeah… funny thing about that.”

The interviewer’s interest piqued. “Oh?”

You hesitated and then bit back a smile. “So… My head researcher’s daughter is actually a huge fan of Sukuna. Like, borderline obsessed.”

Sukuna’s brows shot higher. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah.” you chuckled sheepishly. “And when they found out I was doing this interview with him, my boss was like, ‘Yeah, just get me his autograph and I’ll look the other way on you missing the advisory.’”

Sukuna immediately cackled. “Really? That’s damn hilarious.”

“Swear to god, it's crazy in there when it comes to you.” you laughed, sinking a little in your seat. “He told me, ‘If you get me a video of him saying hi to my daughter, I’ll even let you off the hook for the paperwork you forgot to pass last week.’”

“Babe.” Sukuna turned his entire body toward you, his grin practically ear-to-ear. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier? That’s easy. Just give me a pen later—hell, I’ll record her a whole-ass personalized video.”

You scoffed, blushing. “Oh my god, no—you don’t have to do that much—”

“Nahhh, I gotchu, babe, don’t worry.” Sukuna grinned mischievously, already plotting. “I’ll make her dad look like a hero. Gonna be like: ‘Hey princess, your dad is the real MVP for letting your fave’s girlfriend skip work today to give you content.’”

You smacked his arm, mortified. “Oh my god, you are so insane.”

The production crew lost it almost immediately.

The interviewer covered her mouth, laughing.

“I’m serious!” Sukuna laughed, scarlet eyes crinkling. “You know how many brownie points that’ll get you at work? You could literally ghost them for a week and they’ll still cover for you.”

“Oh my god, stop—”

“And the paperwork you forgot?” Sukuna shot you a playful smirk. “I’ll just sign it with ‘Ryomen Sukuna’s girlfriend is a genius, give her a raise.’ Boom. Problem solved.”

“RYOMEN SUKUNA.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Sukuna raised his hands in surrender. “Just don’t call me that, okay? You know what my name is.”

The interviewer was crying. “I am so sorry, I can’t breathe—you guys are adorable.”

You slumped in your seat, burying your face in your hands. “I’m never living this down.”

Sukuna just laughed harder, his hand finding your thigh and giving it a warm squeeze. “Nah, you’re good, babe. I’ll make sure you’re employee of the month after this.”

The interviewer, trying to recover. “W-well! We really appreciate you being here, [Your Name]. Seriously. It's not every day we get a literal astrophysicist and an Olympic athlete in the same room.”

“Oh no, I should be the one thankful!” you stammered, still flustered from Sukuna’s antics. “Thank you for having me here with my love. Honestly, it’s such a privilege.”

Sukuna practically preened. “Her love. You guys heard that, right?”

You smacked his arm. “Oh god, don’t even start.”

“Too late, babe.” Sukuna grinned smugly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m riding that high all day. Like, that’s from the one I love right there. I’m riding this forever.”

“You can’t just—” You lower your face to your hands, feeling yourself warm. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t get embarrassed so fast!”

“I’m trying hard not to!”

The interviewer was now fully crying from laughing.

And you? You were about two seconds away from melting into the floor from sheer secondhand embarrassment.

You just can’t believe he’s like this today.

“So, uh, are you guys ready for some quickfire ten-second questions?” She asks as you finally recover, lifting your head.

Sukuna cracks his knuckles dramatically. “Easy. We’ve been together more than a decade or so. I can ace this.”

You scoff. “You’re gonna overthink everything.”

Sukuna feigns offense. “Excuse you? I’m very decisive.”

The interviewer laughs. “Alright, let’s put that to the test. First question: Sukuna, what’s your favorite pre-game meal?”

“Ramen.” he says instantly. Then, a beat later, “Wait. No. Her curry. Yeah, yeah. That one….the spicy one. Final answer.”

Your mouth drops open. “Are you serious? I thought you hated it.”

He grins smugly. “It’s true. I loved it all. Took another plate after you left. Your food hits different, you know?"

You roll your eyes but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. “O–okay, I guess.”

The interviewer beams. “Cute. Okay, [Your Name], what’s his go-to post-game routine?”

“Oh, easy.” you say, straight-faced. “Complaining about his back. Then how he doesn’t like how Gojo Satoru took that line shot at him at a game. Take a ridiculously long, hot shower. He has a beer before we eat dinner. Then aggressively demands my cuddles.”

Sukuna sputters at you. “Aggressively?!”

You arch a brow. “You corner me in the kitchen. Every time.”

He throws his head back in a laugh, his large hand sliding to your knee. “Okay, fine. Fair point.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Alright, Sukuna — who’s the first person you call after a big win?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Her. Always her. And she picks up, even mid-experiment.”

Your chest tightens, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “You’re too much.”

“Hey, I really do call you the most after every match.”

“And after a loss?” she presses.

Sukuna leans slightly toward you, his arm shifting so his hand now rests protectively on your thigh. “Also her. But I’m significantly more annoying.”

You snort. “So much pouting. He becomes, like, unbearable.”

Sukuna gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Unbearable?! I’m mourning, babe!”

“You’re sulking. Just like right now.”

“Same thing!”

The interviewer is practically doubled over laughing. “I love this dynamic. Okay, favorite thing about each other — go.”

Sukuna’s answer is immediate. “Her laugh. Hands down. Best sound in the world.”

Your heart lurches, face instantly heating. “Oh my god, shut up—”

“No, like dead serious, babe.” he interrupts, his smile softening. “Could be having the worst day ever, and if she laughs? I’m good.”

You smack his arm, your face now an embarrassing shade of red. “You’re being gross on camera!”

Sukuna shrugs, unbothered. “Truth is truth, babe.”

The interviewer melts. “Okay, your turn, [Your Name].”

You stammer, still flustered. “Uhh—” you scramble to think of something non-cheesy, but instead, your mouth betrays you. “The way he always warms his hands before touching my face.”

Sukuna freezes. “…Huh?”

You blink. “…What?”

“That’s your favorite thing?” he asks, blinking at you like you’d just dropped a bombshell.

You squirm. “I mean, yeah. You do it all the time. Like, even if we’re just watching a movie or something — you always warm your hands first. It’s cute.”

The grin that spreads across Sukuna’s face is devastating. “You’re so obsessed with me.”

You physically groan. “Oh my god, shut up.”

The interviewer is practically swooning. “This is the cutest thing ever—okay, okay, next one. Sukuna, if you could steal any skill from your girlfriend, what would it be?”

“Her patience.” he deadpans.

You burst out laughing. “What?”

“No, like actually, I really think you mastered it so much.” he insists, leaning forward. “You have no idea how insane she is at staying calm. Like, I’ll be losing my mind over a game or a bad practice, and she’ll just—” he waves his hand, mimicking your nonchalant demeanor, “‘Okay, babe, it’s fine. You’ll win next time.’ Like. What the hell? Where do you get that?”

You’re dying of laughter. “It’s called balance, my love.”

“It’s witchcraft.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Then learn it.”

He laughs at your words. “No, but I’m genuine about this. My girl can sit there and deal with a long day where her research yields bad results and do it again even though it takes long. And come home to me sulking and just know how to be just as patient.”

You looked at him, eyes full of love. “You’re so….I love you. Just a lot.”

He smiles back at you. “Love you too, babe.”

The interviewer sighed, whimsically. “I love you two so much. Okay, final question—and you both have to answer this.” She leans in dramatically. “What’s the very first thing you’ll do if you win gold at the Olympics?”

Sukuna’s cocky grin is instant. “Kiss her. On live TV.”

Your jaw drops “‘kuna, my love! Don’t just say that!”

“What?” he laughs, utterly shameless. “Manifesting, babe.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Your boyfriend snickers. “Yeah, you say that now but you’re gonna make out with me after this—”

“Oh my god, not here!”

The interviewer howls with laughter. “And what about you, [Your Name]?”

You glare at Sukuna but ultimately sigh in defeat. “I guess… I’ll let him.”

Sukuna beams, victorious. “See? Obsessed with me. You were lying earlier, hm? Saying you won’t and now here you are, you admit the truth. I am so vindicated.”

You slap his arm, but you’re grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, but I am your annoyance. That's my happy life right there, being loved by you like that.”

The interviewer shakes her head, still giggling. “I swear, if you actually win gold and kiss her on live TV, I’ll play this clip everywhere.”

Sukuna’s arm curls around your shoulder, pulling you in. “You better be ready, babe. I’m serious.”

And the terrifying part? You can already picture it. Because you know that he can do it. He can win it all just like that. You could see the gold medal around his neck, the camera zooming in, and Ryomen Sukuna turning straight to you with that same smug grin before sweeping you off your feet.

You purse your lips into a flat line, blushing. “Yeah, yeah…..I’m prepared.”

The interview finally wraps up there.

You’re still a little dazed. The cameras, the lights, the overly intimate questions about your relationship—but Ryomen Sukuna? He still looks happy, still completely unbothered. Like he lives for this. Which, you suppose, he does.

His arm never leaves your shoulder as you stand to shake hands with the Vogue team, his thumb still brushing absentminded circles against your skin. And just as you think you can finally slink away into the background, done with all the attention, Ryomen Sukuna pulls you right back in.

“Babe, c’mon.” he murmurs, his mouth brushing your temple. “Stay for the photoshoot.”

You blink. “What?”

“The shoot. They’re doing my Olympic feature photoshoot now.” He grins like he already knows how this will go. “Hang around for a bit.”

Your eyes narrow. “I thought this part was just you?”

“It is.”

“Then why do you need me here?”

“Moral support.” he says with a teasing smirk. “Also, you look really cute today, and I need you to stand there and be hot while I take photos.”

You gawk. “My love…..”

“What?” He shrugs, pulling you even closer as he starts walking toward the set. “I’m serious. Just stand off to the side, babe. I’ll behave.”

You have exactly zero trust in that promise. But you sigh and let him tug you along anyway. Because at the end of the day, you can’t say no to him. You never could. Not then and certainly not now. That’s just how much you loved the man.

So you do stay. But you try your hardest to stay out of the way. This is just for him, and only for him. You shouldn’t meddle. This isn’t for you. You do not want to get involved. So you make sure he sees you but sees you preoccupied, as you take food from the snack pile and coffee from the coffee machine.  

The photoshoot setup is expansive. There were grand lighting rigs, enormous backdrops, a team of stylists fussing over Sukuna’s hair and clothes. He’s already swapped his casual attire for his Japan national team uniform, crisp and iconic in its red and white.

And good god, you were stunned.

He looks obscenely good, even better than normal.

You were just hypnotized.

Like, you can definitely say that it's an actual deity-tier sort of beauty. Tall and lean, the muscles in his arms and thighs practically sculpted. His sharp features and dark tattoos look even more striking against the stark white backdrop. And the way he carries himself. It was that dangerous, unbothered confidence that had the photographers practically swooning as much as you were already.

You stand quietly off to the side, as you stuff yourself with snacks. You were doing your best to stay unnoticed and so far so good. But the moment Sukuna locks eyes with you from across the room, in the middle of his solo shoot, you already know you’re already fucked.

Because he grins. That stupid, sharp, predatory grin.

And you just know something is going to happen.

Because, you know that look on his face.

He’s about to pull some bullshit.

“Alright, Sukuna — tilt your chin up a bit. Perfect, perfect — can we get some more intensity in those scarlet eyes?”

He obliges easily, shifting his stance. For a few moments, you think you’re in the clear. Maybe he’ll actually behave. Maybe he’ll just get through his shoot without doing anything that would just throw you off your horses.

“Hey.” Sukuna suddenly calls out — loud enough for the entire set to hear. His gaze zeroes in on you. “Can she come here real quick?”

Your stomach drops.

The entire team turns to look at you.

Your soul leaves your body.

“I swear to god…..” you hiss, mortified. “No—”

“C’mon, babe.” he grins. “Just real quick. Just one picture.”

The photographer, looking intrigued, asks, “Wait — are you talking about her?”

“Yeah. Of course I’m talking about her.” Sukuna says smoothly. “That’s my girl.”

Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

You try to melt into the floor. “My love, no—”

“Babe, come on.” he says, mockingly sweet, “I thought you were here for moral support? Come on, just one picture. I won’t even ask them to include it in the spread.”

The team just absolutely loves what’s happening right now. They’re already whispering to each other, eyes lighting up with interest. One of the assistants, who was clearly a hopeless romantic, suddenly gasps, “Oh my god, can we get her in a couple of shots?”

“No, no, no you don’t have to.” you stammer, mortified. “I-I’m not part of the shoot—”

“You are now, babe.” Sukuna smirks, already striding over to grab your hand.

“My love, I’m not even— I didn’t sign anything—”

“Babe, relax.” he murmurs, tugging you right into the center of the set like it’s nothing. “You’re not doing a solo shoot. Just stand next to me. That’s it.”

The photographer, gleeful, immediately jumps in: “Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes. Let’s do a few couple shots. Just casual. We can get a few ‘power couple’ frames, I love this.”

“No, please, it’s not fair to you all or him.” you say, panicked. “It’s his shoot, I’m not supposed to—”

Sukuna grins down at you. “C’mon, babe. What’s one photo?”

You glare. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He tugs you even closer. “C’mon, let me show off my pretty girlfriend a little. Please?”

“…I hate you so much.”

The next twenty minutes are the most unhinged photoshoot of your life.

It starts simple. Ryomen Sukuna standing tall in his Olympic uniform, with you just casually next to him. He’s still smug and composed, while you try your best to look like you belong there. But then it escalates, as it always does with him.

“Can you put your arm around her waist?” the photographer asks.

Sukuna immediately complies, almost too gleefully, you might add, as he was pulling you flush against his side, his arm curling snug around your lower back.

“Actually, can you lean down and nuzzle into her neck a bit? Just natural intimacy.”

You really could feel your soul just saying a hail mary and saying goodbye for good. Your Sukuna doesn’t even hesitate. His mouth brushes your temple, his nose drags against your skin, and he actually whispers in your ear: “Told you you’d be in this shoot, babe.”

“I hate you so much, like a lot. Right now.” you grit, cheeks burning.

“You love me, a lot. I can tell.” he grins. “Like look at that bright eyed love!”

“Can we get one with her in front of him? Like, you know, back to his chest?” The director suddenly says.

You barely have time to react before Sukuna’s already wrapping his arms around you from behind, his chin resting atop your head. His long fingers splay warmly across your stomach, deliberately making the pose look far too intimate.

The camera shutter goes crazy.

And then—the final blow from the director:

“Okay, for the last shot—Sukuna, can you kiss her?”

Your brain explodes. “WHAT—”

“Ohhh, I think I can.” Sukuna drawls, thrilled. “Hang on.”

“I swear to god, you can’t just—my love!”

Too late for any arguments, he’s made up his mind. His hand slides up to your jaw, his thumb tilting your chin just slightly. And then, without a hint of shame, he leans down and kisses you. Right there. On the set. With the cameras flashing like crazy.

It’s not even a small kiss. It’s full and lingering. It’s passionate and hot and burning. It was the type of kiss that only belongs to you two. Yet you don’t push him away or pull away. Instead, you let his hand cup the edge of your face, his mouth molds against yours, and you feel his stupid grin against your lips.

The photographer practically screams. “Oh my god, that was too good! That was just perfect!”

You finally part from him. But it took you a bit before you were back down to earth from the spellbound trip to love. “You are so annoying, I swear!”

“Babe.” he says, smug as hell. “I think we just sold out this magazine issue.”

“I’m going to kill you, that was too passionate! That’s just for us—"

“Please. You’re gonna frame these photos later.”

“Ugh, no I won’t!”

“You so will.”

And when the photos do come out, everything just shifts in the world. The entire internet loses its mind over Japan’s national volleyball ace and his head-over-heels-in-love girlfriend like he always is, you realize, miserably, that Ryomen Sukuna was absolutely right.

Because you do, in fact, frame one of the photos.

Well, almost all the photos you got.

And what does Ryomen Sukuna do?

He never shuts up about it.

══════════════════

epilogue

The group chat video call came in less than five minutes after the interview aired. You barely had time to process the fact that the clip of you and Sukuna had already exploded on social media — like a firestorm-level viral. 

Your phone was pinging nonstop with texts, notifications, and Twitter mentions of people collectively losing their minds over “Astrophysicist GF x Olympic Athlete BF” like it was the rom-com of the century. Like it was the most important trope out there.

And just when you thought you could quietly crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment…

Incoming Video Call: “Menaces + Nanami (we tolerate him)”

“Oh my god no—”

“Babe, answer it!” Sukuna grinned, already stretching his long arm to grab your laptop. “I need to see what they’re about to say.”

“Sukuna, I’m literally not ready for this shit—”

“You’re literally adorable, babe. Don’t worry!” Sukuna smirked, already clicking Accept. “Let me enjoy my W.”

The call connected. Chaos immediately erupted.

Gojo Satoru (Camera OFF): “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

Geto Suguru (Camera ON):

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

Nanami Kento (Camera ON):

“…Are you all seriously screaming?”

Itadori Yuuji (Camera ON):

“BROOOOOO THEY WENT SO HARD IN THAT INTERVIEW OH MY GODDDD!”

Fushiguro Megumi (Camera ON, Visibly Unamused):

“…I’m logging off.”

Gojo Satoru (Camera ON, Appearing Out of Nowhere):

“NO YOU’RE NOT, MEGUMI— OH MY GOD YOU TWO WERE INSANE.”

You immediately face planted onto the table, groaning. “Kill me. Just kill me now.”

“Babe, why? You were really cool!” Sukuna laughed, wrapping an arm around you. “This is literally my proudest moment.”

“Oh my god, this is just so—” You groaned.

“Bro. Bro, oh my god.” Itadori was crying. “Sukuna. The way you said ‘Her love. You guys heard that, right?’ I— I fell off my couch cheesing, bro. You haven’t changed!”

“RIGHT?!” Gojo practically screeched. “And then he was going like ‘I’ll get you employee of the month, babe.’ I almost died! This was so—I can’t even explain it!”

Sukuna was thriving. His grin stretched wide, his canines flashing. “Ayyyeeee, you finally got it Gojo! You got someone, so you understand right? You see how I held her down? Boyfriend of the year.”

“You really are, bro!”

“My love, stoppppp!” you wailed dramatically.

“Nah, babe. Let me cook from boyfriend to husband!”

“Okay but REAL TALK. [Your Name]. Explain to me why your head researcher just casually let you off work because his daughter’s a fan of Sukuna.Also, how the hell are there fans of Sukuna?” Geto Suguru says as he munches on his popcorn.

“Taking offense to that last part, Geto.”

“Hahaha, I don’t care!”

You groaned harder. “I really don’t know. But it worked. I mean, people are asking me for Sukuna’s autographs for their kids at the research facility.”

“No, cause that’s wild, actually.” Suguru laughed. “Your literal superior was like, ‘Get me his autograph and you can skip work.’ That’s insane. I wish I could do that.”

“Well you could had you gone to the same research dept as me.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna work there. Your deadlines are crazy.”

“Hey, my influence is really good for her right now!” Sukuna grinned, leaning into you smugly. “I’m basically her office’s MVP. They should name a telescope after me, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s not what I'm working on right now! That’s the other team!”

“Eh, same thing.”

“The Ryomen Sukuna Space Observatory, nice ring to it.” Gojo said dreamily. “Iconic.”

“Guys, really.”

“I would like to formally request to be excluded from this narrative.” Nanami Kento deadpans as he puts away his paperwork.

“Oh shut up, Kento. Are you still acting tsundere after all this time?” Gojo cackled. “You enjoyed it.”

“No. I did not.”

“Then why’d you text me ‘how did Sukuna–san improve in comedy? he’s hilarious.’ right after it aired?”

Nanami froze. “I did not do that—”

“YOU DID TOO!” Itadori gasped loudly. “I saw the receipts, senpai. You can’t just lie about that!”

“Lies.”

“Don’t deny it!”

“I will deny it, there’s no proof.”

“…Sukuna–senpai, I have to say, you being in love still after all this time really made me cringe.”

Gojo Satoru lost it. He almost fell off his chair, laughing. “That’s so—what the, that’s so—”

“See? People do cringe when you go lovey-dovey!” You tease him, and then laugh as you lean against him. 

“Wow, didn’t know that’s your true feelings about me, babe.” Sukuna scoffed, faking offense as he playfully rolled his eyes. “No love for the Olympic boyfriend, huh?”

“You sounded like a sickeningly in love golden retriever, and it was disturbing.”

Sukuna snorted. “If I still had the privilege to order you one hundred laps, I would.”

“Hm, but you don’t.”

“All because you’re jealous. How’s your date yesterday? Bad like last time?”

Megumi recoiled like he’d been shot. “Senpai, that’s so—”

“Nahhh, I get it, Megs. Cause I’d be mad too if I was third-wheeling greatness like this, while I’m waiting on Cupid to give me luck.” Sukuna gestured grandly to you and himself. “It’s hard out here.”

“I hate you.”

“Don’t be mad, bro. Just manifest your own [Your Name].”

“I swear to god, senpai.”

“Again, manifest. Hell, I’ll even help you. My sister’s into you—”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay but can we talk about how senpai just easily offers the autograph AND the video like it's nothing?” Yuuji enthusiastically says, smiling from ear to ear.

“REAL! Like, this is so crazy. ” Gojo gasped. “He just casually said ‘I’ll make your boss look like a hero, babe.’”

“Bro is so down bad, man.” Geto snickers, drinking his beer. “Everyone’s losing their shit everywhere.”

“And then he was like, ‘yeah don’t worry, I’ll help sign your paperwork.’’” Yuuji grows louder, more enthusiastic than before. “I can’t believe people are seeing it more closely like this. You’re a lucky lady, senpai!”

“Yeah, who can say they have such a long loving thriving relationship, no?” Gojo teases, as he leans on the screen. “LIke, people are jealous!”

“Guys, please!” you howled, your head hitting the table as your face turned scarlet. “PLEASE STOP—”

“SU-KU-NAAAAA–SENPAIIIIII!” Yuuji screamed, clapping. “You’re built differently, man. This is why you’re not bitchless!”

“This is why you follow in my footsteps, Itadori.” Sukuna laughs proudly. “You will only end your suffering if you follow me. That goes for you, Nanami, Fushiguro.”

“No thanks.” Nanami and Fushiguro say, almost at the same time.

“Nah, cause now that I think about it….my girl’s gonna expect me to do well too, Sukuna.” Gojo says, rubbing his chin. “That’s such a cruel move, Sukuna!”

“Hey, I love my girl as easily as breathing.” Sukuna raises his beer can, like cheers. He grins. “Good luck. I’m here if you need tips.”

“…The fact that this interview is already at 4 million views is baffling.” Nanami whispers as he looks at his phone. “It was just released an hour ago.”

Your head snapped up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh yeah, it’s viral now.” Megumi deadpanned. “It’s already trending. Twitter’s obsessed with you two.”

“Yup, yup.” Itadori confirmed. “Hashtag ‘Astrophysicist GF x Olympic Athlete BF’ is number one right now.”

“YOU’RE LYING.”

“Dead serious.”

“My love.” you whirled on him, horrified. “What did you do?”

Sukuna, entirely unbothered: “Won.”

“Bro, people are literally shipping you two like it’s a Netflix rom-com.” Gojo snickers, sighing. “I want mine to be like that.”

“Right?” Suguru agreed. “And they’re already calling you ‘The only loverboy to ever loverboy’ which is kinda crazy to say about Ryomen Sukuna.”

Yuuji sighed. “But it fits, don’t you think? He loves his girl.”

Sukuna beamed. “As they should.”

You were spiraling. “I can’t go back to work like this. They’re gonna tease me—”

“No, babe, you’re good.” Sukuna said smugly. “You literally got immunity. They’re too obsessed with me now.”

“OH MY GODDDD.”

“…So when exactly did you two sign up for a publicized rom-com?” Nanami asks.

“Bro, right?” Gojo laughed. “Next thing you know Sukuna’s proposing on live TV after winning gold.”

Sukuna gasped dramatically. “Wait. That’s fire, actually.”

“Hey, don’t you dare!” you screamed.

“Imagine it, though!” Gojo egged on. “He wins gold. Camera zooms in. Sukuna pulls you onto the court. Boom. Proposal.”

“Don’t give him ideas, Gojo Satoru!”

Geto cackles. “Nah, once you give Sukuna ideas and he likes it, he’s not gonna change his mind.”

“Write that down, bro!” Itadori gasped.

“Oh, I will!” Sukuna grinned.

“Ryomen Sukuna, I swear to god—”

“Hey, hey, slow down. That’s not my name.”

“I’m not stopping until you say you won’t do that.”

“Here me out, let me cook on this idea, like this is a really good idea. Come on!”

“No!”

[sixosix]

SLEIGHT OF HAND | LYNEY

summary you will not let lyney get to you. unfortunately, lyney already got to you the moment you met eyes. after all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?

or, local sumeru architect goes to fontaine looking for inspiration and comes out of it with three rainbow roses and a crushing magician.

warnings 13+, gn!reader, follows the fontaine archon quest, so there are major spoilers throughout the entire fic! MURDER (lyney trial spoilers) + feminine french pet names ough + bff!Aether loml + sweet talker lyney + KISS SCENE (suggestive)

notes 8K words. thank u to my french bff art @aanobrain who said lyney is a magician he would say mon lapin 🤧❤️ + other various french pet names. thank u to ellie hyomagiri & earthtooz too for hyping this up, my supporters…

“500,000!?”

Sumeru streets are always bustling with its people—from children skipping around the neighborhood to frantic scholars who zip back and forth before returning to their homes when the moon is high. However, the sun is beating down on everyone right now: street vendors are making a profit, dogs are barking as they play fetch with laughing children, and you stand across the blond traveler and his floating companion.

You wince at the volume of Paimon’s shrill voice, inciting bypassers to send miffed glances your way. Embarrassed, you cover the side of your face with a hand, whispering, “Is—is that not enough? I can—”

“No, no, it’s not that!” Paimon’s arms flail around, eyes blown comically wide. “It’s just, you know, more than what we earn from our daily commissions combined!”

“Oh, I see.” you nod, relieved. “Well, I can lower—”

“No, no, no, no,” Paimon interjects hurriedly, and even the traveler shakes his head. “Pleasure to do business with you! Paimon and Aether, at your service!”

“Really?” you can’t believe your luck—the traveler himself agreed to escort you to Fontaine! Or does it count if Paimon agrees on his behalf? “That's a relief. Even Katheryne of the guild had a strange expression when I posted my commission.”

“It’s probably because of the amount of zeroes you might’ve accidentally put,” Paimon murmurs.

Aether tugs on her foot as if warning her. “We'll be leaving soon. Are you prepared?”

“Oh, yes. My stuff’s over there by the bench, you see?”

Aether and Paimon’s faces simultaneously fall. “All of that?” Paimon starts counting it, gaping when she has four little fingers held up.

They sure complain a lot. “You can still back out.”

Aether takes a deep breath, making his way over to your luggage. When he brushes past, you hear him chanting 500,000; 500,000; 500,000 under his breath. He wordlessly carries all of them, his chest puffed and expression grave.

“They’re heavier than I thought,” Aether wheezes out as Paimon flits worriedly around him. “How long are you going to be staying in Fontaine?”

“Oh, just a day or two, maybe,” you say, taking pity and taking one bag from him. “Most of what’s inside are art supplies.”

“Ah,” Aether says.

“500,000,” Paimon reminds him.

“We’re close,” Paimon says, flying back to where you and Aether are still walking behind, him heaving and you offering water now and then. “I saw a huge ravine-looking view! It was like a city on a waterfall!”

“R-Really?” Aether puffs out a breath, sweat rolling off his temple.

You tried prying some of your bags away from him when it seemed like there were monsters up ahead, but he refused instead to fight them with one hand on his sword. He still won. You guessed that he was trying to make traveling easier for you, yet all you felt was immense worry.

“Are you feeling okay, Y/N?” Paimon asks, floating beside you. “You look unwell.” You should ask your companion that, instead.

“I’m a bit nervous. After all, it’s my first time traveling outside of Sumeru.” You smile, patting her head. She doesn’t seem to mind, beaming back. “But I need to get out of my comfort zone to be better, right?”

“That's right! Paimon has a feeling you’ll enjoy Fontaine!” You and Paimon glance at Aether when he heaves a heavy breath, yet he only waves the pair of you off with his free hand. “Before you know it, you’ll be itching to travel again once you’re back in Sumeru.”

“I'm only there for work. I just need to learn a lot, and then I'll enjoy it.”

“Still a student through and through, huh…”

“I can see it,” Aether chimes in, looking all too relieved to rest his arm finally. “I can see Fontaine up ahead.”

You feel the cool breeze brush against your face, a refreshing change from the past hours you and the other two have been trudging through the desert. You could strip off layers and dive if you could. You can make out the harbor even miles away, pouring water out like an endless waterfall stretching for miles.

Arriving in Fontaine is introducing yourself to the rustle of layered skirts, the water-kissed smell, and citizens left and right babbling about tragic endings and thrilling climaxes.

Aether sets your bags on the floor with a heavy exhale. Paimon feeds him with another jug of water.

“I guess we’re here now.” You pull out a heavy pouch you’ve been keeping in one of the bags Aether had been holding over his shoulder. Paimon takes it with greedy, greedy hands. “Thank you for keeping me safe and carrying my luggage, Traveler— are you even listening to me?”

“There’s a girl over there,” Aether says, now staring ahead.

You and Paimon turn to look; sure enough, someone is standing by the edge, looking forlornly over the water. Half of her foot is off the platform, making Paimon fidget.

She gasps. “She isn’t going to jump into the water, is she? Maybe we should go check on her…”

Halfway through Paimon’s sentence, you gathered the courage to speak to the girl with the cat ears.

“Hey, miss.” Her ear twitches. “Is something the matter?”

She turns, looking faintly surprised. If you weren’t so close to her, you wouldn’t have been able to tell there was a change in her expression. “I'm fine. thank you.”

“Oh.” Now things are a little awkward. “Is there something in the water you’re looking at? You might slip if you keep tipping forward.”

She peers below, unworried—silent.

“As long as you’re okay, I guess,” you sigh, awkwardly hovering above her shoulder when realizing it might come off strange if you touch her. “I’ll leave you be.”

Her lips twitch, something close to a smile. You don’t stick long enough to admire it, heading back to Aether and Paimon and shrugging at their inquisitive looks. “She says she’s fine.”

“I think it’s time for me to separate,” you say. “I want to take all of it in as much as possible. Paimon has my payment. Thank you both so much for keeping me safe.” Mostly Aether, though. But Paimon was there, emotionally.

“It’s no problem,” Aether says, his smile warmer than when you first met him. “Stay safe out there. You can look for us if you need anything else.”

“I don’t always pay 500,000 for each of my commissions.”

Paimon wilts. Aether flushes, stammering, “Not what I meant.” You laugh heartily as they wave when you walk off to the aquabus, hopefully, prepared for what Fontaine will give you.

Your sketchbook is a page away from completion when you hear about a magic show at the Opera House. Not that it was hard to miss—everyone and their grandmothers were prattling about nothing else but the entire day.

Fontaine is known for its love for dramatics, but the twins they keep mentioning must be a one-of-a-kind spectacle to have half their region’s population speak about them so reverently.

After wandering for hours, taking in the endless sights of fresh water streaming and grand castle-like modern buildings, you find yourself in the Fountain of Lucine. You’ve heard of Fontaine being somewhat titled the ‘City of Love,’ but seeing couples surrounding each nook and cranny of the tourist spots was still astonishing.

(You console yourself by thinking that there’s something romantic in sketching frantically while the rest of the crowd are sucking faces.)

To your luck, you spot three familiar heads in the fountain plaza.

Aether senses you before you can even say anything, glancing to the side and smiling when you wave at him.

Paimon flutters excitedly. “Y/N! We didn’t think we’d see you again this early. You look like you’re glowing.”

“Was it that obvious?” you laugh sheepishly. “Fontaine is beautiful; I couldn’t even stick too long in one place before I see something else that catches my attention.” You look to the girl you met earlier, who nods politely. “Hello. Are you three acquainted now?”

“Mhm!” Paimon says, hands on her hips. “This is Lynette! She’s inviting us to the show they’re holding here!” She gasps, “Speaking of—”

“Ah,” Lynette says quietly, “I couldn’t get an extra ticket. I’m sorry.”

Lynette is the magician you keep hearing about? With her seemingly reserved personality, you wouldn’t have guessed it. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Paimon,” Aether speaks up. “They gave you your ticket, right? Why don’t you just float next to me or sit on my lap?”

Paimon’s eyes sparkle. “Great idea! That way, I can give my seat to Y/N, right?”

“You guys…” Your chest feels warm as Aether hands you one of the two tickets in his hand. “You really didn’t have to.” Is this what 500,00 gets you? The loyal companionship of Aether and Paimon?

“It’s a good idea,” Lynette says. “My brother wouldn’t want you to miss the show. He’d be devastated.”

“If you insist, then I suppose I can’t refuse.” Aether and Paimon do a cute little cheer. “But I need to return to the hotel; I can’t be watching a magic show carrying all these.” Surely Aether can understand.

Later, with your hands finally empty and charcoal-free, you rush back to the Opera Epiclese, the person standing guard kind enough to open the doors despite being a minute late.

“Welcome, one and all, to the Opera Epiclese!” The audience roars with cheers as the spotlight illuminates a figure on the center of the stage. You hurry to your seats, brushing past Aether and Paimon. “I am the star of today’s show, Lyney.”

Lyney bows, then stands upright with a Cheshire cat grin.

The thunder of the crowd’s applause is deafening. If you weren’t able to see it, you’d think that you hadn’t been clapping at all—senses numbed and your fixed stare all on the boy on the stage.

Your eyes catch on the small braid on the side of his head before the gleam of his eyes hypnotizes you.

He’s handsome, you think dizzily at the back of your head.

“Don’t blink,” he says, his voice lower as if meant to be a whisper, “or else you might miss it.”

The show proceeds. A dove soars away from inside as he flips his hat; you flush at hearing the soft laughter that slips from him after. The cards that materialize out of nowhere descend to the floor. His fingers shuffle the cards while talking to keep the audience satiated; they fly off his hands, yet he doesn’t lose focus, stretching them mid-air with a sleight of hand. They fall apart and come together neatly and precisely.

His stage presence is demanding. It would be as if Lady Furina herself would accuse you of committing a crime if you were to look away for even a second.

Then, when he scans the crowd, busy twirling his cards in his fingers, his gaze catches your awed ones.

Something in the air shifts. Or maybe it’s that it slows.

A card slips from his grasp. A mistake. He blinks and breaks eye contact, laughing heartily to play it off. But you don’t believe it—not when you swore your limbs locked in place as well when lilac drilled into your soul.

You breathe, hands bracing against your chest. What was that?

You would’ve played it off as something you imagined if not for Lyney continuing to glance at you occasionally. His slip-up had been forgotten, as though it was all part of the show.

(Is it also part of the show when it seems he’s unable to tear his eyes off of you?)

Of course, the twins prove their worth. They showed you exactly why the people of Fontaine adore watching them through theatrical magic, cards in their sleeves, and defying logic.

You’ve shuffled to the edge of your seat as Lynette disperses into bubbles and comes back alive. You’ve held your breath as Lyney emerges from the box across he was in a moment earlier.

You’ve also been witness to the murder of Cowell.

CRASH.

The shatter of glass resounded along with the horrified gasps of the audience. Sickeningly enough, you could almost hear the crack of bones if you hadn’t been crying out in alarm. Yet, as they gape and shriek over the sight of a limp arm popping out, you find your gaze tracing back to Lyney, who stands motionless in front of the box.

When Lady Furina points fingers and has everyone siding against him, the guards escort the audience from the Opera House. All evidence presented left Lyney in a spotlight unlike his performance: with a disgusted and unamused crowd. Even you have to agree that it isn’t looking well for his case at all.

Yet all you can think of as you leave the room is that Lyney looked as terrified as everyone else was—much too raw of an expression for someone to accuse him of anything at all. He looked young and scared.

(His hands were shaking.)

The rest of your Fontaine trip is admittedly duller when you’re a little more familiar with its city and don’t have a yapping little fairy and a capable Traveler by your side. It’s hard not to hear chatter about the events that went down: Lyney’s trial, Aether volunteering to be his lawyer, and the truth behind the real murderer.

It solved a case beyond the murder of Cowell. Fontaine sure has its mysteries, and the crowd sure loves them as they would a magic show.

You keep your hands busy. Last night, you found yourself thinking back to the magic show, to deft fingers weaving through cards, to violet eyes that kept on flickering to you. By the time you snap back to reality, you’ve subconsciously drawn shapes and lines that suspiciously look like the magician himself: the curve of a smile, piercing eyes, and you entranced by it all.

Flustered, you crumple his face staring back at you out of sight. Yet you can’t bring yourself to throw it away.

You shove the last bit of garlic baguette in your mouth to furiously bat these unwanted thoughts away.

“Isn’t that Y/N?” Paimon’s voice is unmistakable, a short distance off.

You jump out of your skin, spinning to see Aether and Paimon waving and walking over to you. You thought they'd already left Fontaine after that; you wouldn’t blame them if they did.

“Y/N! We haven’t seen you since the Opera House performance,” Paimon exclaims, twirling around your head like a thrilled fly circling a trash can.

You hold onto her back, hoping she’ll stop making you dizzy. “We were escorted out before I could say goodbye. I couldn’t watch the court trial but heard it all turned out fine.”

“That’s right!” Paimon nods proudly. “Paimon helped a ton during it; you should’ve seen it! What have you been doing?”

“I found a fellow architect while visiting the cafe nearby, and we chatted for hours,” you say, remembering that your voice is hoarse for that reason. You also don’t tell them you couldn’t get a certain magician off your mind. “I learned a lot. I don’t regret coming here one bit.”

Paimon says something else that you’re sure you’ve nodded absentmindedly at while your gaze wanders over to the two familiar people a few feet behind, watching you three with cat-like eyes—and it’s not just because of Lynette’s unique features.

“Those are the magicians, right?” you gesture behind Paimon and Aether as if you haven’t already familiarized yourself with their faces.

Paimon nods. “Uh-huh. You should introduce yourself! They look like they want to talk.”

Something about that feels foreboding. “Um, no, it’s fine. I don’t want to be rude and interrupt your conversation.”

“No,” Aether says firmly. He seldom speaks; you might as well play along if he says so. “Besides, Paimon is right. Lyney wants to talk to you, you know?”

“Oh, yeah! He kept mentioning seeing someone sitting beside us! And it couldn’t have been Neuvillette because he said it was an unfamiliar beauty that bewitched this weak magician’s heart.” Paimon nods, even recalling how he’s enunciated each syllable theatrically.

“I’m sorry?” you blurt. “Lyney recognizes me? What did I do?”

“Paimon thinks it’s because Lyney is curious about who Lynette met! He was like that with us, too.” Paimon changes her pitch to match Lyney’s. “Are these your friends, Lynette?”

Aether’s eyes feel like they know something you don’t. “It won’t hurt to strike up a conversation with Lyney. He’s been shaken up since the trial.”

There’s something unspoken hidden in his words. “What does that mean?”

Paimon doesn’t wait for an answer, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to where the twins are waiting. Aether chuckles as he jogs behind.

“Paimon, Aether,” Lyney says, almost sly, “You haven’t introduced us to your friend here.”

“Paimon can do it!” She floats on top of your head and does a bit of jazz hands. “This is Y/N, the one who commissioned us to escort them from Sumeru up to Fontaine.”

“Generously,” Aether adds.

It’s a little embarrassing to have the legendary Traveler and Paimon introduce little old you to a famous magician such as himself, but his grin is still excited.

“From Sumeru?” Lyney repeats, smiling wider when you nod—as if that crumb of attention is enough for him. “I see.”

He performs a bow around the same height as where your hands rest; he takes one, kisses the back of your palm, and smiles against your skin. “I’m Lyney, and she is my sister, Lynette.”

“It’s nice to see you again.” You smile at Lynette, who nods in return. Lyney straightens to look at his sister.

“We met when the Traveler and Paimon just arrived at the harbor,” Lynette sighs even without looking at her brother.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you say, meeting Lyney’s eyes. The spot where he kissed is still warm—tingling. “Your show was incredible, despite what happened. I’m glad that the truth revealed itself.”

“Thank you.” Lyney’s gaze sharpens. “I saw you at the performance, yes. I was worried for a second you might steal the show if you were to come up on stage.”

You blink. “Are you saying—”

Lyney grins, “I apologize that the night had to end that way; it must’ve been horrifying. Say, what if I give you a little show right now to make it up to you?” Did he make it up to each one of his audience, too?

This is not a man acting “shaken up,” as Aether put it.

“You really don’t have to.” You glance at Aether and Paimon, silently asking for help; however, they’re too far gone, urging you to say yes with gestures and encouraging nods.

Lyney tilts his head, demanding your attention on him once more.

You sigh. “I would love to see it if you don’t mind.”

“Of course!” Lyney looks like he’s the sun bursting personified. “It would be a pleasure, ma chérie. Not to worry, it’s nothing life-threatening. I just need you to focus on me.”

Not that it’s hard. The others have become a dull buzz in your mind as Lyney holds your gaze. “Okay.”

Lyney smiles, much softer, satisfied. “Good. Now,” he tips his hat, “recently, I’ve received a little lesson from someone about the language of flowers. Are you familiar with them?”

“Not in Fontaine, no,” you mumble, watching his hands closely. You were expecting a rabbit to hop out of that hat any second now.

“Shame. But I suppose I wouldn’t want to spoil the fun.” Lyney snaps his finger, then deposits his hand inside his hat. “Hmm… Oh? Something’s not quite right. Would you mind looking into this hat for me to see if the flower is here?”

You hesitate. The hat is so close to him.

Swallowing, you nod, leaning in to inspect his hat at a careful pace. All you can sense is the faint scent of heat Lyney is emanating, the breath you two share, and the pounding of your chest. You swear you could also hear his, matching yours.

“The hat’s empty.”

Lyney smiles wider. “Yes, perhaps because you already have it.”

You jump back in surprise, your hands patting your body to see where he could have snuck the flower in. With your frantic movement, the flower falls off from what seems to have come from your head—Lyney catches it.

His mouth carves into a smirk, leaning to invade your personal space, his free hand coming up to tuck hair behind your ear. “Careful.”

Your face is burning. Plucking the flower out, the delicate and tender pink sears into your palm. “What does this flower mean?”

“What does it, I wonder?” Lyney whispers thoughtfully. “I suppose you’ll have to tell me once you find out.”

And when he inclines backward, it feels like you can breathe again. Time flows normally, and the people passing by seem much louder than before—as though you’ve surfaced from underwater.

Lyney clears his throat. “Shame I haven’t prepared myself a grand show for you, but I suppose that would call for another time, wouldn’t it?”

Lynette is looking at Lyney as if he is stupidly amusing.

“Thank you,” you say, burning, burning. “For the show, I mean.”

“That was a little weird,” Paimon whispers to Aether, but she is terrible with keeping volume and has everyone turning to her with varying expressions. “P-Paimon means that was good! Wow, Lyney! Isn’t that a different flower you gave us? That’s the flower Charlotte was talking about, right?”

“Rainbow rose?” Aether supplies.

“Yes! It means—”

“Ahem.” Lyney is quick to interrupt. “Lynette and I must take our leave now, if you don’t mind. It was fun catching up with you two.” You have to hold your ground and not look away when he hones in on your figure. “And it’s a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger. Look for me if you want more.”

His smile is a little devilish, you now realize.

“Bye,” Lynette says blankly, following after her brother, who seemed to be hurrying to exit.

His ears were red.

“You’re still staring.”

“I am not,” you rebuke hotly, flailing to cover Aether’s mouth with your hands. Yet all it does is bring your attention back to where Paimon and Aether are staring—the rainbow rose on your person.

Paimon and Aether yelp when you drag them away despite Lyney having already left the scene.

“Hey—! Don’t just go dragging Paimon around like a balloon like that! Did Lyney get to your head that much?”

“He did not.”

Paimon tilts her head, frowning. You shy away from her worried gaze, glaring at the flower instead. You still don’t know how Lyney managed to get it there; you hold it to your chest, where your heart is racing miles per minute because of his stupidly smug smile.

“What does this flower mean, Paimon?”

Paimon seems elated to be of help. “Easy! Charlotte told us that Rainbow Roses mean ‘passion’ and most notably ‘romantic encounters’!”

“Passion,” you curse. The rose seems as if it is staring back innocently, unknowing of the turmoil you’re going through because of it. “Romantic encounters.’ ugh.”

You can still remember how Lyney’s eyes twinkled as you felt his breath against your face.

“Ooh, he thinks he can trick me. He thinks he can affect me just because it pleases him to do so. I’ll show him. I’ll show him! I am not a blushing maiden!”

“You’re already very affected by this,” Paimon says, yet it’s lost by your newfound determination. Two can play at this game.

You’ve definitely been staying in Fontaine longer than what you told Aether and Paimon, but you can’t leave yet. Not when you found yourself walking to a flower shop to purchase a vase, fiercely digging through soil, turning gentle when your fingers reach for the Rainbow Rose. Not when you see it in the corner of your eyes as you try to sleep, and you find yourself daydreaming about a charming violet-eyed virtuoso.

It’s for research, you excused lamely at the hotelkeeper who didn’t ask why you’re extending your stay. In truth, not that you’d tell anyone. It was because you were hoping for another grand show from him. A farewell show for you—closure.

If you were to travel back home and get too drunk to think straight, Kaveh would learn about your crisis (romantic awakening?) and laugh at your face.

In hopes of looking for your Fontaine architect friend, you spot Lyney instead, on the side of the street surrounded by cheering kids. They clap and jump, and Lyney laughs. “One more, one more!”

“Again?” Lyney does an exaggerated sigh. “I’m starting to run out of cards in my sleeves. I’ve guessed my entire deck from your hands by this point!”

“But, Mr. Magician,” one of them whines, pouting up at him and blinking, “we want to see more! We want to know how you do it!”

“Alright, how about this, hm?” And then Lyney peers right at you. Ironically, you’re the one startled when you’ve been watching that entire spiel, and he hasn’t acknowledged your presence beforehand. “Y/N, would you mind giving these children a little show with me?” He gestures for you to come closer.

“What show?” you ask suspiciously, taking slow steps in case he pulls out another flower out of nowhere.

“You don’t have to worry,” Lyney laughs. “Will you be my assistant for this show? You are very familiar with this trick.”

“Please, we want to see!”

You falter at the little kids’ excited grins, especially when paired with Lyney’s pout and round eyes. “Okay, tell me what to do.”

His eyes do the little gleam again. “Stand in front of me, mon lapin.”

Your heart is skipping beat after beat, making itself known as you shuffle until Lyney is directly behind you.

“Relax, chérie, you just need to stand still.” It’s a little hard to relax when you feel his breath against the back of your neck, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting that, so you keep your chin high and relax your shoulders. “Good.” 

He begins to speak louder to his awaiting audience. “I know it’s hard to keep your eyes off this beauty before me, but watch the hat for a surprise, alright?”

He flips it for his little audience, one hand resting on your waist and the other extended to hold his top hat. The proximity is almost suffocating. You watch with bated breath, and they complain about it being empty.

“Oh, is it?” Lyney hums, twirling the hat until it’s flipped upside down, presented right before you. “Perhaps I need my assistant’s help.” You snap out of your daze when you realize he’s talking to you. “Y/N, do me a favor and show them the flower inside.”

You reach inside the hat and, much to your surprise, feel a stem. You pull it out; the Rainbow Rose stares back at you, almost mocking you, saying he did pull out a flower out of nowhere. It's this trick again.

The kids gasp in awe and confusion—it’s all the same for Lyney, who snaps his fingers and creates magic like he was made to. Like magic was for him to summon with his hands.

“What? It was empty!”

“Where did that come from? I was watching Mister Magician’s hands the whole time!”

“Are you a magician, too?”

“No,” you say lamely, holding the rose, feeling Lyney still patiently standing behind you. Heat crawls up your neck. “No, I’m not. It’s all Lyney.”

“It’s all me,” Lyney echoes in amusement. “You’re quite magical yourself.” Finally, he spares you, pulling away to stand beside your figure. He doesn’t take the rose back—maybe even give it to one of the children. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “That’s enough for today. The sun is setting, and your parents might get worried.”

They pout and slump their shoulders, but Lyney has this older brother's sternness to him that has the children scurrying back home anyway.

You then realize having to stand in front of Lyney was unnecessary.

The flower is warm. Lyney’s eyes slip to yours.

“I didn’t even have to stand in front of you like that,” you complain, heart inclined to race off your body.

“Yes, but I feared that I would slip up again if I were to catch a glimpse of your face,” Lyney admits smoothly. His lips curl into a smirk when you stare wordlessly. “What? Don’t believe me? I had to improvise when I saw you watching from afar.”

“A great magician such as yourself? Making a mistake? I doubt it.”

“You already have such high expectations placed on me, chérie,” Lyney says, his smile easy, but his ears are a little red, poking out from his hair. “That’s no good. With no audience, I’m just plain ‘Lyney’ to you.”

“No trickery? No cards up your sleeves?” you play along.

Lyney doesn’t miss a beat. “No, though I do have a few more roses begging to be held by your hands.”

“They can keep begging.” Lyney grins wider when you glance down at his hands. “Do you give them off to everyone you meet?”

“Who do you take me for?” Lyney isn’t offended; he laughs, delighted. He is preening under the sunset—or maybe it’s your attention. “Of course not. At least, not like this.”

You stare, unimpressed. “Sure.”

“So cold, chérie,” Lyney sighs, plucking the stem from your fingers to slot it behind your ear. It seems he likes doing that. “Here I am, trying to get you to warm up to me, and you treat me like this.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be going back home soon anyway.”

Lyney’s expression shifts into something more unrecognizable, his eyes dipping down to somewhere below your nose. “Oh. Avoiding attachment?”

You nod.

He grins, and he’s still so close. He knows how to entrance his audience, pulling you in until you forget to resist. Always watch the hands; yet Lyney could be digging a dagger to your side at this moment, and you wouldn’t even notice.

“I’m flattered you even want to avoid me because you know you’d get attached,” he purrs, tilting his head. Is Lyney just big on personal space? 

“Don’t assume,” you retort. “I know how guys like you think. Even a magician as great as yourself can’t trick someone who’s already seen through it.”

“It would be easier if it were just a trick, wouldn’t it?” Lyney sighs, much to your confusion. “I take it that someone has told you what this flower means?”

You’ve nearly forgotten all about it. “Yes.” You find yourself unable to look directly into his eyes. “I know.”

But even with that, you can still feel his heavy gaze, pinning you down and threatening the strength of your knees. You suppose it comes with being a performer—watching his audience carefully, pinpointing each micro expression to say the right words.

“There doesn’t have to be any attachments.”

“What are you trying to say right now?”

Lyney’s reaches for your hip, sharing your gaze like he doesn’t know how to do anything else. “That you enamor me. That I am holding back from wanting you. I know you feel the same—you can never hide anything from a magician. But if you’re concerned,” he mumbles, “then this doesn’t have to mean anything. You may call it infatuation.”

You want to laugh. Or maybe you want to cry. Most of all, you want to nod helplessly, wrap your arms around his neck, and give in. It’s hard not to when he looks at you like that. “You want me that bad?”

“I almost want to disagree.”

“Almost?” Lyney gets closer, and you stop him with a palm on his chest. “We’re outside.”

Lyney grins. “Have you forgotten what Fontaine is also known for? No one would bat an eye. Love is in the air, and all that.”

“Absolutely not.”

“So still you’re letting me?”

You laugh this time. Letting him, as if you aren’t the one itching to pull him close and find out what he’s like behind the curtains. “Are you asking me as plain old ‘Lyney?’”

Lyney brightens, clearly pleased there wasn’t a ‘no’. “Yes.”

“No tricks?”

“No tricks. No strings.”

You let him lead you away into some dark alleyway. He kisses you like he was longing to do so all his life. You have only met him that fateful day, not even a week ago. But you claw at him like you get it—like he’s ruined you for anyone else the moment you shared gazes in the Opera House.

Romantic encounters, you quietly recall as Lyney swipes a thumb over your aching bottom lip.

You don’t see Lyney the day after that. And for some reason, it makes the itch worse. (Perhaps it’s because you’ve gotten a taste and can’t get enough.)

It’s mostly your fault, the sudden disappearance—you’ve cooped yourself up in the hotel room, buried your face in pillows, and screamed. You berate yourself for giving in, but another part of you—one that’s louder than any other thought in your head—wants to do it again. Wants to hold his handsome face in your hands and have him kiss you breathless. That was nothing like you had ever felt before.

You groan. It’s another new day. You might as well make some progress with your portfolio.

There’s a Café you’ve been visiting more often than not. Ordering a drink and spending a good chunk of your day sketching the view. Instead, you find yourself staring at Aether, Paimon, and Lynette seated at one of the tables.

Lynette’s eyes flick up to yours as she sips tea. She murmurs something to the other two, and you watch with amusement as Aether and Paimon’s heads snap to face you.

You let your gaze wander, eventually landing on Lyney, who is reciting his order with his charming-act-on smile, who is present because of course he is. You want to turn and run away, but that’d be letting Lyney win, and you’re nothing if not stubborn and prideful.

“Y/N!” Paimon greets once you’re within earshot, kicking her feet happily. “Good morning! What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast,” you reply, waving at them. Aether pulls a chair from the other table and gestures for you to sit. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope!” Paimon swipes a fork from the table and digs in on the Ile Flottante, leaving nothing for Aether. “Lynette and Lyney told us about another show they’re holding to make up for the previous one.”

“Mouth full,” Aether reminds her, a little too late as the Ile Flottante spews from her mouth.

“Really now? Maybe I can pay properly for a ticket this time,” you laugh, nodding at Lynette. She smiles faintly, hiding it behind the rim of her cup. Lynette sure is the polar opposite of her twin brother.

A shadow looms from behind, the silhouette of a figure with an unmistakable top hat. You tilt your chin and see Lyney peering down at you with a sweet smile. You will yourself to keep your gaze focused on his eyes only and nowhere else below the nose.

Speak of the devil…

“Sweetheart,” Lyney says instead of exchanging pleasantries like a normal person.

“Lyney,” you reply in kind. Then you look away upon realizing that Aether, Paimon, and Lynette had been silently watching the exchange with muted, stunned expressions.

Lyney, holding a tray of drinks and food in both hands, scoots the chair next to yours with his ankle. “I wasn’t informed that Y/N would be joining us,” he says, setting the drinks and plates down like a waiter with a flourish. “You can drink mine. Let me order another.”

You hold onto his wrist as he makes his way back. He turns to you, surprised. “Let me at least pay for my own breakfast.”

Lyney grins, delicately withdrawing from your grip. He places a loud kiss on your hand. “Don’t worry about it.” And then leaves, because he can’t take no for an answer.

“Is it just me,” Paimon starts as you resign yourself to finishing Lyney’s drink (It’s your favorite, the one you always order), “or is Lyney acting weird around Y/N?”

Aether laughs. “There's definitely something going on. Don’t end up staying too long in Fontaine, now. What was it you told us? ‘A day or two’.”

You huff, your face turning unbearably warm. “Shut up, you two. I am here to do research, not to find a summer fling.” You’ve already failed, but they don’t need to know about that.

If you were to touch your lips with your fingers, you’d think of no one else but Lyney’s hands on your hips and his mouth swallowing your words.

Lynette clears her throat, a quiet but noticeable thing. “Don’t be fooled by my brother, Y/N.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m still keeping my safe distance.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean. Don’t be fooled by my brother.” She stares at you from the rim of her cup—something about that has you listening obediently. “No matter what he tells you, he always cares too much. No matter what you may think, he always gets hurt first.”

“That’s not…” You can’t imagine that. From the start, it’s always felt like he was the one who could do what he wanted.

No tricks.

Lynette is his twin, after all. She knows him best.

No strings.

Defeated, you sip on the straw with the same fervor of an aggravated hilichurl, and that’s the end of that.

Conversations during breakfast are much lighter when Lyney returns with a full meal as his treat. Celebration, he says. Celebration for what? Who knows? Lyney winked, but his glance directed to you said enough.

“You say that you don’t want to get attached, but you’re awfully close to the Traveler, of all people,” Lyney says offhandedly once the others have left for their own matters.

You lean against your seat, grinning. “Are you jealous?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead upturning his nose as if scrambling to regain control. You laugh, oddly endeared. Lyney turns his head away, trying to hide the smile that curls his lips upon hearing it.

“Hey,” Lyney says seriously, reaching for your hand. “Where have you been yesterday?”

“Why? Missed me?”

And because he’s Lyney, he takes his time kissing each of your knuckles. It’s more intimate than the whole ‘no strings’ arrangement you agreed on, but you suppose Lyney thinks that any physical attention is free reign. “What would you do if I said yes?”

“You’ll be fine,” you say slyly. “You’ll have to get used to it if you want to risk your heart just to get laid.”

He rolls his eyes, tugging you closer. “I’m not risking anything to get laid. Do you think so lowly of yourself, chérie?”

“Isn’t this all there is to it? Physical attraction,” you ask, genuinely confused.

Lyney blinks. “Of course, but—” His eyes flicker down, and his words trail off.

When you speak, you feel your breath bounce back from his skin—a testament to your proximity. “Lyney,” you whisper. For what? Urging him to continue? Urging him to close this distance? You’re not sure, either.

You have so much to ask. What do you mean? Why can’t you finish your sentence? Why don’t you just kiss me already? But it’s hard to speak; Lyney’s name is all you can think of. 

You whisper his name again. His grip on your hands tightens and loosens, a frustrated frown creeping up his brows.

Your hand shoots out to reach for the back of his head and give in. He flinches for a second before relaxing completely.

His lips almost taste sweeter than his words. Almost as sweet as how he finds purchase on your waist and holds your chin during every kiss.

You pull away to breathe, missing how he leans closer to chase after you and pouting when he can’t. “Yeah. That—That didn’t have to mean anything. I just wanted to know what it felt like again.”

“Yeah.” Lyney licks his lips, his gaze unable to tear away from where yours are swollen. “Yeah, I know. You taste like my drink.”

Really, no one’s surprised you gravitate towards each other again, feeling like you’re soaring and melting into a puddle at the same time. Lyney doesn’t touch you where you both know would cross the line, but he grips near possessively to what he can, as if breathing you in and worshipping your skin.

You know after this, he’d go back on stage, fooling his audience with what’s invisible to the average eye, as if this never happened. You know this because this is your deal: satiate the feverish attraction you have with each other and leave once you’re satisfied. (But you also know that you’ll be thinking of his touch and his lips while you stare at the vase beside your bed.)

Lyney is a magician, first and foremost.

He hooks you in, and keeps all your attention to himself like he’d die without it. Then he disappears with a snap of a finger. He’s finished his trick, leaving you befuddled in your seat with more questions than answers.

As you drift off to sleep, all you can think of is that there are two roses now.

“Brother.”

Lyney looks up from where he’d been entertaining Rosseland, seeing Lynette with a stern face. “What? What happened?”

Her tail flicks. “You said you weren’t going to get attached.”

Lyney exhales softly, his eyes slipping shut. “I’m not.”

Lynette finds herself smiling softly. “I may just be your assistant, but you can’t lie to your own twin.”

He buries his face in his hands. With his sight gone, images of your face while whispering his name flash in his mind. His eyes fly open, mortified, his whole face red. “I don’t know how it happened. I didn’t think it’d be deeper than that.”

He was the magician in this, but it felt as if you were the one who tricked him instead.

It’s been two weeks since you first arrived in Fontaine. By this point, you’ve grown more familiar with its views than your own city. Having Aether, Paimon, Lynette, and even Freminet around doesn't make it any easier for you to feel at home.

And then there’s the Lyney Situation. You meet up most nights, more than that when he’s free from shows. He keeps seeking you out, and you keep letting him in. There was one night where Lyney spent the night instead of heading straight to the door—and those nights turned into two, then three, and then he finds any excuse to keep doing it.

It’s not like you could stop. He told you look for me if you want more, and you always want more, because how could you not? Lyney treats you like he’s never had to take care of anything more precious but still manages to render you breathless like you’ve never experienced thrill the way he gives it to you before.

But you still have to go back home. And Lyney still has his own life, has his secrets. He feels untouchable even when your arms are wrapped around his neck.

No strings attached can still work for summer flings, doesn’t it? And what are summer flings, if not just that?

Lyney hovers above with his hands caging your face. He’s grinning so wide—and you’ve seen all kinds of smiles on him with your time spent together, but it was never this genuine.

“You’re bad for me.” He says it like a confession, a prayer.

You raise an eyebrow. “What did I do to you?”

His hand trails down until he’s rubbing shapes on your hips. “Make me feel like I’m myself whenever I’m with you.”

At your silence, Lyney clears his throat. “But it’s not like that, don’t worry. I just mean—”

And how does that even make sense? He pours his heart, then later reveals it’s nothing but a decoy to keep this facade realistic.

“Oh,” you say.

That was the final act you’d been waiting for. The final trick—the farewell show.

And so you pack your bags—shoved your sketchbook back inside, face forward, and promise not to look back. Leaving Sumeru hasn’t even been this hard.

Aether and Paimon shouldn’t be surprised if they find you missing; they’d been the first to know that your stay in Fontaine isn’t meant to last forever. And you’ve warned Lyney about this. Avoiding attachments? It felt more like running away from your problem.

Lyney is a busy man on his own; you’re nothing but some architect from a different region who happened to get caught up with him at the right time.

You sigh and call for the aquabus.

A hand clasps around your wrist, pulling you to collide against a familiar chest. Lyney’s eyes are wide, almost insane. Sweat clings to his forehead, and his breath comes in frantic pants.

“W-What—”

Lyney’s eyes search your face. Or maybe it’s him trying to convince himself that you’re right there, in front of him. “You didn’t even tell me.”

“I—I’m sorry—”

“Were you just going to leave like that? Don’t you think I at least deserve a farewell?”

“Lyney, I’m sorry. I know, that was stupid.” You haven’t seen him with an expression like this before—so raw and broken, begging to be glued together with your hands. “I didn’t want to formally say goodbye because I knew I'd want to stay.”

“That’s stupid,” he repeats in agreement.

You breathe shakily, eyes scanning the stunned crowd. What’s The Great Magician Lyney doing here? Holding some stranger in his arms? That must be what they’re thinking.

“How did you even know I was leaving?”

Lyney’s eyes cut down to his hand, gripping a crushed rose. “I was paying a visit to an empty room.” Embarrassed, he tries to toss it away, but you take it before he can.

You wordlessly place it in its home: the spot behind your ears. You don’t tell him that the two other roses he gave you serve as bookmarks in the sketchbook you’ve used all up in Fontaine. Where you’ve drawn his face more often than not.

Lyney groans in frustration, his hands curling around your waist. “Is staying so bad?”

“It’s not like I’m leaving forever.”

And then you notice Lyney’s hands. They’re shaking uncontrollably, not unlike how it did during that incident—and with it came the frantic exhales, as if natural human breathing alone is already hard enough for him.

“Oh, Lyney,” you say softly. You drop your bags and embrace him fully.

He doesn’t hesitate in pulling you closer, burying his face on your neck. “Don’t—don’t,” he gasps, “don’t just try to leave like that.”

It’s hard seeing Lyney like this. He’s usually so composed and easy-going. He gulps in a deep breath, and his voice cracks as he calls for you. This must be something out of his control—something deeper than the back of his stage.

“Y/N,” he whispers.

“Lyney,” you call back as gently.

He swallows your surprised noise with his mouth, moving against you like you’re his last meal on Teyvat. He’s still shaking, but it has subsided the longer you stay pressed against each other. You’re not sure if it’s his Pyro vision or if it’s your skin burning at the thought of Lyney’s skin against yours. It’s searing.

This is different from the last kisses you shared.

Passion, you think dizzily, breathless from his hunger. This is passion.

“What was that for?” you ask, embarrassingly winded.

Lyney brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. He looks sad. As though he only comes alive when you’re with him. “A kiss to make up for your absence in the following weeks.”

“I can always come back,” you say. “No, I will come back. I promise. I just need to get home for a bit.”

“Okay.” Lyney nods, exhaling heavily. “Yeah. I know, I understand. Once you come back, come straight to me, alright?”

“Of course.” You lean in to kiss his cheek. You’ve never done it before because it always came off too intimate. And judging by the blush that explodes on his face, he thinks the same.

It all doesn’t matter. The line has been crossed days ago; you’ve just been turning away from seeing it.

He kisses you again. Then again. “Have a safe trip,” he says in between kisses. “I almost wish you commissioned me to escort you, regardless of the price.”

“What, you want 500,00?” The aquabus has arrived; Lyney grips you a little tighter, childishly willing himself not to see it.

“500,000 kisses, and more.” Lyney rests his forehead against yours, his captivating eyes keeping you still, the way it always does. “But you can give me that when you come back.”

( Before they were taken away from the stage for an investigation, Lynette comes up to her brother and asks, “What happened back there, Lyney? I thought you were about to twist your own fingers.”

He is unsure how to tell his sister that he saw your awed expression and nearly lost his wits.

“It was nothing,” Lyney admits, his face growing hot at recalling his slip-up. 

It wasn’t out of embarrassment, no—not when the memory of your wide-eyed beaming expression and how his mind blanked along with the skip of his heart plagued his mind.

“It was nothing,” he repeats numbly. It’s not. It was the start of something. )

a/n ok just a quick rant this fic BROKE ME. it was like every other day i hated then loved writing this fic. im not used to writing fics this long so pacing is not my forte </3 but i just feel proud of myself for finishing this so HOPE U LIKED IT. if ure still reading until here ily ❤️

more a/n two lyney fics and two kissing scenes. i can’t even lie to myself. everyone can tell.

more more a/n it was halfway through writing this fic that i rewatched the magic show and only noticed lyneys hands were shaking and i GOT SO SAD OMF 😭😭😭😭

[bucks-babe]

How Can I Forget You?

Follow my sideblog @bucks-babesideblog for updates on when I post

Pairing: Bucky x reader x Steve, Stucky x reader, Stucky

Summary: I literally don’t know how to summarize this. 40’s Bucky and Steve go to war, then you know what happens to them, Ladybird is left in the 40’s. Steve and Bucky are in the future. Will they get their Ladybird back?

Warnings: Angst (a lot of it), fluff, poly relationship, pre serum Steve, 40’s Bucky and Steve, 21st century!Bucky and Steve, some gay sex because it was getting too sad (anal fingering, anal, grinding naked), Peggy was never with Steve, implied suicide by alcohol, death of the reader in the 40’s, pet names (darling, ladybird, dumpling), crying, Jewish!Bucky, nostalgia, time jumps, happy ending because who do you think I am, I am not paying for anyone's therapy just so you know

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: There is no mention of the reader's body type nor race. Part of this fic does take place in the 40's, but I wanted to have a blank reader so that readers from any race can imagine themselves as Ladybird. There is no mention of period related homophobia because this shit was already too damn sad. If I missed any warnings, please let me know becuase I know that this fic is angsty and I want to make sure that everyone knows what they are getting into. Thanks to @buckys-wintersoldier for sacrificing her mental health for this fic 🤘

“Stevie, have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?” Steve blushes and hides his face in Bucky’s chest, breathing in his woodsy scent. “Don’t hide from me, punk, can’t see those pretty eyes anymore.” Running his fingers through Steve’s soft hair and trailing his hand down to the back of the smaller man’s neck, he gently brings his head back up, appreciating the soft, pink glow on his lover’s cheeks.

“Buck,” Steve trails off, not able to form a complete sentence when Bucky is looking at him like this - like he is gorgeous and not scrawny or undesirable. He doesn’t fight when Bucky brings their lips together, moaning at the taste of Bucky’s last cigarette. His eyes flutter as they pull away, both of their pupils blown, lips swollen and cheeks red. “You know, smoking is bad for you.”

Bucky grabs Steve and lays down on the couch, Steve resting between his legs. “I’m going to live until I’m 100, Stevie, smoking or not. You, my dear, are the one we need to worry about.”

“Like hell, you’re going to live that long with those habits. I’m healthy, it’s the doctors that keep telling me I’m not fit to join the army.” Bucky sighs. No matter how much he tries to stop Steve from enlisting, it never works. Not even their Ladybird can convince him.

“Stevie, please. I don’t want to hear anymore talk about this. Not today.” It’s their Ladybird that speaks, voice thick with emotion, yet stern. Neither of her boys would disobey her. She sets the tray with their sandwiches down and quickly leaves the room, palms frantically trying to smooth her dress down, pressing wrinkles that don’t exist.

Today was the day that Bucky had to leave. He didn’t enlist, not when his Ladybird wanted him at home, safe with her and Steve. She was terrified that he wouldn’t come home, leaving her and Steve behind.

But Steve was more stubborn than his man, not accepting staying at home when the men of his country are risking their lives. He needed to protect his country. “Stay here, dumpling.” Leaving a kiss on his forehead, Bucky follows Ladybird into the kitchen.

Two strong arms wrap around her waist and the tears she was desperate to hold in, cascade down her cheeks, ruining the makeup she spent so much time on. She was trying to be strong for him, support him before sending him off, but it was too much. Knowing that he could be killed at any moment, and these could be her final memories of him, was too overwhelming.

“I know, Ladybird, I know. I promise you that I’ll come home, okay? I can’t leave my best girl and guy alone.” She turns in his arms and his calloused palms rest on her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the stream of mascara running down her face.

“Steve, he, he can’t enlist, Buck. He just can’t. How am I supposed to stay here knowing that the loves of my life are out there, getting shot at, bombs going off, huh?” Steve sneaks in, snaking his arms around her waist.

“For you, Ladybird, I won’t. I’ll wait here with you, send Bucky letters, keep you safe, okay?” She knew it was a lie; Steve could never lie, but she chose to believe him in that moment. Maybe for her own sanity, or maybe just to savor the last moments she would ever get to spend with her men.

She was Bucky off, waving to him when he boarded the train, but when Steve left the house for errands she knew where he was going - she never saw him again, but she knew it was for his love for her and Bucky. She didn’t blame him.

***

When Steve woke up from the ice, the first thing he did was see if his Ladybird was still alive. From the moment he got the serum, he regretted lying to her. He knew when he looked in her eyes, she knew what he was going to do; she accepted his choice. It was who he was and she wouldn’t dream of him being anything else.

He cried that night, when Fury gave him the documents he so graciously printed from Google. Ladybird died only a few years after he went on ice. She never moved on. They said it was a broken heart, but the 40’s would never report a woman drinking herself to death, wallowing in the sorrow of lost love.

It was his fault. Maybe she could have healed from the loss of Bucky if he was there. It would never take away the pain, but she would have one of them, but he left her behind. He would visit her grave daily; her body six feet below him, wearing the dog tags of her lovers.

The pain was eased when he found Bucky. They had each other. Even when he couldn’t remember much, Bucky remembered his Ladybird. Steve wishes he could forget the day he had to tell the man he loved that their girl was dead.

“I still want to be with you, Steve.” It took a while before Bucky was stable enough to choose to love again, but it was never a hard decision. The love for Steve too much to ignore.

Their first time was much different from the 40’s. They both changed so much - Steve more so than Bucky. They couldn’t get each other naked fast enough, kisses and loving touches scattered throughout.

Bucky didn’t feel embarrassed by his arm, not when Steve’s eyes were filled with so much love and lust. Bucky had to look away, his eyes landing on his boyfriend’s cock. “Oh my god, Steve!” He didn’t mean to gawk but he couldn’t help it. Steve went from slightly below average to very much above it. Long and thick, veins pulsing through his cock, supplying enough blood to keep his large erection up.

“What? Oh.” Steve’s signature blush crept up his cheeks just like it used to. Even though his body changed so dramatically, he was still the same boy from Brooklyn Bucky fell in love with. “You’re bigger too, Buck.” Steve shied away from Bucky’s gaze, worried about how Bucky’s cock was going to fit inside of him.

“It hasn’t changed that much, dumpling.” It was almost true. Bucky was always above average - maybe seven inches. He was always thick, but now? His cock looked like it doubled in thickness, and around an inch added to his length.

“Yeah, right.” Bucky beamed at Steve as he became more comfortable under Bucky’s gaze.

“Well, how about we compare sizes then?” They both groan at the first contact in years, dicks pressed against each other. “Won’t you look at that, you’re bigger than me, dumpling.” Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure. There was no way that he was bigger than Bucky.

Nonetheless, Steve looks down, almost cumming at the sight of his lover’s cock leaking onto his. His eyes widened; he was bigger than Bucky. It was only by an inch, even with the serum thickening his cock, Bucky was still much thicker. “Good boy, see how pretty your cock is? Fuck, missed you so much.”

Bucky groans in between words as he grinds against Steve, cock pushed harder against his. Steve’s hands find the sides of Bucky’s face, pulling him down in a heated kiss while ropes of his cum shoot out onto both of their stomachs and chests. Bucky follows right after, not able to handle the pleasure the simple grind of their hips brings him as they both share their first orgasm since the 40’s.

He collapses on Steve’s chest while they both catch their breath. “Darling, I need your cock in me. Need to feel how you stretch me out.” Bucky’s cock instantly hardens.

“Fuck, dumpling, we don’t have lube.” Even in his lust filled state, Bucky knows that going any further would hurt.

“Don’t need it. Look at all our cum.” Bucky looks down and whimpers. The serum really did a number on them. His first orgasm in 80 years was a lot. The mixture of their cum was dripping down Steve’s sides and leaking down Bucky’s chest. He quickly dips down to get a mouthful of their cum, moaning as he shares it with Steve. “You taste just as good as I remember, Buck.”

Bucky scoops a generous amount onto two of his fingers while Steve eagerly spreads his legs, presenting his tight hole to his partner. At this moment, it’s just the two of them. The pain of their Ladybird is gone, if only momentarily.

The moan that leaves Steve’s lips as Bucky’s first finger breeches his hole is almost enough to have him cumming untouched. He doesn’t know how long he stretches Steve out for, but it was enough time to have Steve cumming on his chest again, giving Bucky more lube to use.

“Ready, dumpling? Ready for your sergeant’s cock?” Steve only moans, frantically nodding his head. No one would have thought that the tough captain was so submissive in bed. Bucky strokes his cock with Steve’s spend a few times before lining up with his stretched out hole.

He meets little resistance as his tip slips in. “Fuck, Steve. Think you’re even fucking tighter.” He has to close his eyes, balls pulsing and pulling up already. Steve’s tight ass ready to suck all of his cum out.

“Uh, uh, just bigger. So much bigger.” Steve’s mind was empty, only wanting his ass full. He cries when Bucky hikes his legs up, wanting to be as close as possible. “Wait, please.” Bucky immediately eases his cock out, knowing that he’s a lot bigger to take now. After a few minutes, Steve’s breath evens out and his eyes lock with Bucky’s, nodding at his lover.

As gently as he can, Bucky slides back inside his ass, slowly feeding Steve inch after inch. “How full are you, Stevie?” It wasn’t smug; Bucky needed to know that Steve was okay. Leaning down, Bucky presses his forehead against Steve’s, staring into his eyes. Tears fall from both of their eyes, connected so intimately again.

“So full, Buck.” He leans up to capture Bucky’s lips in a kiss, neither able to think straight, let alone kiss properly.

“I love you so fucking much, dumpling.” Steve cries out, hips jerking in an attempt to take more of his sergeant’s dick. As Bucky’s hips rest against Steve’s center, they both cum, chanting each other’s name like a mantra, whispers of their love passed back and forth. Neither of them can stop, trying to make up for all the years spent apart. All the years each spent mourning the loss of the other.

By the end of the night, they’re both spent. Cuddled in each other’s arms, Bucky is the first to break the silence. “Is it just me, or does this almost feel wrong without Ladybird?”

“It does, but she wouldn’t want us to stop loving each other.” Bucky doesn’t respond, caught up in his own mind. The pain from losing their Ladybird would never go away and they both knew that.

***

“Dumpling, you should stay there.” It’s said so quietly that if Steve wasn’t a super soldier he wouldn’t have heard him.

“Excuse me?” Steve pulls away, quickly sitting up in the bed.

“You should stay with her. You deserve it - she deserves it.” Bucky hangs his head, not able to look Steve in the eyes.

“And you don’t?”

“No. After all I’ve done, I’d only taint her. She doesn’t deserve that.” It was a decision that Bucky thought long and hard about.

“You think she would believe that? That I would? I just lost you, Buck and you’re asking me to do it again.” Steve stands and paces around the room, not able to comprehend what his boyfriend was saying.

“Think about it, Stevie. At least she would have one of us. You know what happened when she found out we both were ‘dead.’”

“Drop it, okay?” And Bucky did, but he planted the seed inside Steve’s mind.

***

“I’ll never stop loving you, Darling.” Bucky nodded, failing to hold in his tears, knowing that this was the last time he was going to see his best guy.

“Take care of her for me, yeah?”

“You know I will.” He grabs Bucky’s face, sharing their last kiss, tears mixing together. “And don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” His voice cracks, saying his final goodbye.

Bucky swallows hard. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” He caresses Steve’s cheek once more and pats it, letting his hand fall down. They look at each other in silence, burning this memory into their brains.

He can’t bear to look at Bucky when he gets on the pad.

***

Steve’s throat is tight as he looks at his old brownstone. His Ladybird is right behind the door, having no idea who is outside. He picks up the spare key - exactly where it always was.

He has to close his eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the home he shared with his two loves. Stepping over the threshold, he sees her and his breath gets caught in his throat. “Ladybird?” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice, so unsure and in disbelief of what he was seeing.

Her head whips around; the dish she was washing shatters as it hits the ground. “Stevie?” His feet are glued to the ground, back hitting the closed door as he tries not to fall to his knees. “Is it really you?” Unlike him, Ladybird sprints to him, her dress fluttering at the speed she moves, the dog tags of her lovers jiggle with every step.

She almost tackles him to the ground, arms intertwined around his neck, legs clutching his waist. He catches her easily, his own arms squeezing her to his chest. Both of their sobs mix together as Steve drops down on the couch, legs no longer able to hold him up. “I thought you were dead. They send soldiers here and everything.” Steve couldn’t form an explanation, too caught up in her entire being.

He can only pull her into a kiss. It was messy, full of tears and snot, but neither of them cared. She didn’t know how long he waited for this moment. They held each other for hours, crying and kissing. Eventually, she fell asleep in his arms.

Steve didn’t have it in him to put her down as he went around the house. Everything was just as he remembered. The kitchen table, engraved with all their initials, still had three chairs around it, each one in different states of ruin - Bucky always flopped in his chair leaving the legs wobbly. Steve’s favorite mug sat on the lowest shelf, right where pre-serum Steve could reach, even though Bucky loved to put it up higher so that Steve had to ask for his help.

The living room still held the old rickie bookshelf that Ladybird insisted that she could put together by herself, no matter how many times her men offered help. Upon it was Bucky’s first edition copy of The Hobbit. He and Ladybird would always make fun of him for how much time, money, and effort he spent just to get that book - Steve placed it in a box along with the recipes from Mrs. Barnes.

The bedroom made his breath hitch, his arms instinctively holding Ladybird closer. His favorite chair, ripped in multiple spots, sat in the corner of the room, right by the window. Right next to it was his stand where his old sketchbook sat untouched - he put that in the box too. Bucky’s side of the closet hung his clothes, neatly arranged in order of his favorites, while Steve’s clothes lay on the ground in a pile, always too lazy to fold them.

The top left dresser draw held the photo album Ladybird made them for Christmas/Hanukkah - that went in the box. Ladybird’s jewelry box had a necklace with the Star of David that she saved for to get Bucky on his birthday. Bucky gave it back to her before he left for safekeeping - in the box it went. On top of the dresser were all the letters she sent to Bucky and Steve, along with the letters they sent her. The army gave them back to her with their dog tags - Steve made sure to not damage them as they were placed in the box.

***

The team shared gasps and whispers between themselves as Steve reappeared with a woman in one arm and a small box in the other. He whispers something in her ear before pointing in the distance.

A gorgeous smile graces her lips as her eyes meet Steve’s target. She doesn’t hesitate to sprint across the grass, bare feet and ignoring all of the Avengers. Bucky doesn’t hear the beat of her steps, overwhelmed at the loss of both of his partners.

He doesn’t know what hit him as he falls to the ground. Kisses are placed all over his face. For a second, he thinks that he’s dreaming because he would know her smell anywhere, the feeling of her lips ingrained in his mind. But even in his dreams, he couldn’t hear her voice, always muffled and distant, but it was clear as day as he lay on the soft ground.

“Bucky!” He has to grab her face to stop her assault, pulling her back far enough to confirm that it was real, that his Ladybird was in his arms.

“Bird? Oh my god.” He pulls her back down, showering her with affection, practically rolling them around in the grass, not caring about the audience that slowly surrounded them. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Her tears come back once again. His hair was longer, worry lines sprinkled around his face, cool metal pressed against her right cheek, his right hand more callused than before. Steve told her a bit about what happened, about how Bucky lost his arm, how insecure he felt because of it.

Without pause, she tilts her head, soft lips placed delicately on his metal palm. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Stuck in their own little bubble, they don’t notice Steve laying beside them until his arms wrap around them both.

With one look he gets the rest of the Avengers to leave them in peace. Unlike his past self, Steve could lie when he needed to. He knew that Bucky wouldn’t have let him go to return the stones if he knew Steve wasn’t going to stay. Laying a kiss to Bucky’s forehead, Steve takes in the sight before him, all of them together at last.

“Bucky, you were right. I did take all the stupid with me.” Bucky’s tear streaked face looks over at his partner.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, dumpling.” For the first time since before the war, all three of them felt at peace, finally in each other’s arms again. It may have taken 80 some years, but none of them would change a thing if there was even the smallest chance that they wouldn’t end up together.

[russo-woso]

Designers || Leah Williamson

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Part of the Mini Williamson universe

Summary You and Leah decide to design Mini Williamson in her own special kit.

A/N Very very old fic that’s been sat in my drafts forever

You and Leah had come up with an idea for the euro final.

For the second time running, the lionesses had made it to the euro final, and for the second time running, it was Leah leading them.

It was such a big thing, that when the idea popped into your head, you knew you had to do it.

You and Leah had agreed to make Charlie a dress made out of an England kit.

Charlie loved dresses, she always had such a big smile on her face when she saw you were putting a dress on her, so you figured, why not make her a dress so she can support her mummy and aunties?

Amelia, however, was Leah’s mascot for the final, she had been throughout the whole tournament, and so she was wearing a kit.

One night, you and Leah were in bed and decided to design the dress yourselves, before taking it to a dressmakers.

When you received the dress back, you decided to not let Leah see it, hoping to make it a surprise.

When the time came to put it on Charlie, emotions were high, purely due to it being such a big day, but seeing it on her made you so happy.

You and Leah had spent so much time working on designing the dress and it looked perfect.

You couldn’t wait to see Leah’s reaction.

Charlie babbled to herself as she played with the bottom of the dress.

“Ami!” You called her as she came running into the room.

“Yes, mama?” Amelia asked before gasping. “Look at your dress, Charlie!”

Amelia’s speech had improved so much now that she was three, like there had been a massive jump between two and three.

“It looks pretty doesn’t it, just like you two.” You told Amelia, looking at your two girls as they wore their outfits.

You pressed a kiss to both their heads, before picking up Charlie and resting her on your hip.

“Ready to go see mummy?” You questioned and Ami nodded straight away, Charlie babbling, clearly saying ‘mummy’ which happened to be the latest word she’d learnt to say.

—

The final whistle had blown, England had won the euros again.

Leah fell to the floor crying, as you watched her with tears streaming down your face.

“Mummy win!” Ami cheered, hugging Amanda, who was sat next to her.

Once Leah had celebrated with her teammates, you were the first one she went to.

She enveloped you in a hug, before kissing you deeply.

“I’m so proud, le. So so proud.” You whispered as you rested your forehead on hers.

“Thank you, love. Hi, baby girls.” Leah said, hugging Ami and taking Charlie in her arms.

“Mummy you won!” Amelia cheered again, as Leah nodded with a big smile, moving Charlie to one arm so she pick up Ami too.

She kissed both of them on their cheeks as they both laughed.

“Look at your dress, Charlie. Don’t you look gorgeous.” Leah said, looking at Charlie’s dress. “We’re good designers, aren’t we?” Leah joked, and you agreed.

“Mummy, we go on pitch? Me go see auntie lessi.” Amelia asked and Leah nodded, picking her up and heaving her over the barricade.

Beth then came over to take Charlie too, putting her on the floor and helping her walk over to the rest of the team.

“At least we know that if your career somehow ends suddenly, we know you can be a designer.” You joked, as Leah wrapped her arm around your waist pulling you closer.

“As long as you’re my business partner.” Leah said and you hummed.

“Of course.”

“Hey! Why does Ami have Russo on the back of her shirt?” Leah questioned, her jaw wide open as her signature frown, that both your daughters had, appeared on her face.

“Ami insisted that she wore auntie lessi’s shirt. I had to force her to wear a Williamson one before she walked out the tunnel. As soon as she got to the sidelines, she made me put her Russo one on.” You explained, watching Leah’s face turn red with anger.

You laughed at her anger, watching her jump the barrier before jogging over to Amelia.

“Amelia Williamson! Why have you got that shirt on? Amelia, don’t you run away.”

Ami then pushed Leah to the floor where the confetti was, coating her head to tow in confetti.

Leah gently took ami in her arms, pulling her down too.

Charlie came over laying down before rolling in it.

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene in front of you.

Your three girls laughing and smiling away.

“Y/N, come!” You heard Leah shout as she gestured for you to come to them.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, before jumping the barrier and walking to them.

Leah tackled you to the floor, you landing on top of her.

You smiled at her confetti covered face before leaning down and connecting your lips.

“Children here.” You heard Amelia say, resting her hands on her hips, before looking at Leah, the two of you laughing.

“She gets her attitude from you.” Leah told you, and you smacked her arm lightly.

“No she doesn’t.” You defended, standing up and resting your hands on your hips, just like Ami did.

“Really? I find that hard to believe.”

[desperate-gay]

i just want to suck Leahs strap. that’s it. please… you know what my request is now 👀

Throat

Leah Williamson x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

summary: just leah throat fucking you

a/n: this is kind of inspired by @vixwritesagain payback fic

“Get down on your knees.”

Leah’s thumb rests on your bottom lip, tugging it down and letting it go with a slight pop. Your eyes look up at her in full innocence, completely letting down your facade from just minutes ago, but Leah doesn’t take any of it. Her hand tightly grips your jaw, almost forcing it open from how strong she’s squeezing, and pushes you down so you lower to the ground.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understood?” Unspoken anger is laced in her tone, her voice full of rasp and pupils blown wide with lust.

You nod obediently and kneel right next to her, looking up at her while waiting for instructions. She begins to fumble with her pants, unbuttoning them so she can show you what she’s had hidden under them all night. Your eyes widen when you see a clear pink strap bounce out, Leah pumping it with her hand, turning you on even more.

“You’re going to suck on my cock until I feel satisfied.”

“I-I’ve never taken anything that big.”

The tremble in your voice is apparent but that only makes the tall girl above you smirk. You’ve only done it once and the toy was way smaller than this one, this one is new and big. Bigger than you’ve ever taken before, orally or any way.

She scoffs at your pathetic attempt to get out of it and gathers your hair in a ponytail, wrapping it around her wrist so she has a tight grip. “You act like a slut in front of all our friends so I’m going to treat you like one.”

Her hand forces your head to be face-to-face with the dildo. You let out a few shallow breaths to prepare yourself before licking a long stripe from the base to the head. Gently, you take the tip into your mouth and gently begin to suck, but the blonde above you impatiently tugs you further in, causing you to gag at the sudden intrusion.

Tears begin to prick your eyes as Leah guides your head to bop up and down, you gagging every time you get past the center of the toy.

“Just relax your throat, doll. Don’t think about it too much and take it.”

You do as she says, allowing it to slide all the way in with no gagging. Her hips start to rock into you while her hand also speeds up the pace of your mouth, making your hands grab her thighs for support.

“That’s it, take me in your slutty little mouth.” She groans, tilting her head back and twisting it, relieving the sore knots around her neck.

She pushes the strap in particularly harder than it has been, causing you to choke at the roughness but it doesn’t stop her one bit. Tears are now running down your cheeks, strings of saliva exiting your mouth from every thrust. When you try to pull away, her hand slaps your cheek, warning you to stay put. You whine at the stinging sensation and the throbbing mess between your legs.

“Just breathe through your nose. I didn’t say you were done yet.” She growls, beginning to move your head once again to continue your vigorous sucking.

Leah’s groans become more consistent, her receiving pleasure from both seeing you in this position and the harness rubbing up against her clit. With one final intake of the dildo, her legs slightly shake as her jaw slacks open. You keep the toy down your throat, waiting for her to do what she wants, not wanting to get punished further.

Her grip on your hair loosens after she pulls your mouth completely off the strap. A string of spit connects with your mouth and the head as you trail away. Leah affectionately grazes your cheek with her thumb, taking in your swollen red lips and watery eyes, looking down at you with nothing but admiration.

“You were so good to me, maybe I’ll let you cum tonight.” Her raspy voice cuts the silence in the room, the once silence that was filled with choking and wet noises.

You look up at her and nod, hoping she will take it into consideration to get you off. You don’t talk so you don’t get punished more, and, well, your voice might be a little scrappy after everything.

“Why don’t you stand up and lean against the window? I want to show everyone how much of a needy slut you are.”

[campingwiththecharmings]

Thaw

AN: Yeah. I wrote a Miguel O'Hara fic lmao many thanks to all the enablers that helped make this possible 😘❤️

(Un-beta’d) (barely proofread, apologies for any grammatical mistakes)

Being a leader isn't easy, and sometimes even Spider-Man needs someone else to take the lead.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,028 Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader Warnings: p in v, kissing, cockwarming, mild biting, sub!Miguel, soft!Miguel (I have not read any of the comics so, apologies if this is at all ooc) AO3

——————

You can always tell when the pressure is starting to get to him, when the weight of being the leader has become almost too much for him to bear. His temper is short most of the time anyway these days, but when he starts blowing up at every little thing, you know it’s time for you to step in. 

So, you do. 

And he lets you. 

His grasp on your hand is tight as you lead him to your shared apartment, squeezing your hand as if you’ll slip away if he lets go for even a second. Once inside, you lead him over to the couch, pausing to turn and look at him. He’s on edge, seemingly every muscle tense as you study him. You frown a little before positioning him so that his back is facing the couch. He doesn’t fight you, instead just watches you intently with his dark, red eyes. You place a hand on his chest and gently push him toward the couch, wordlessly telling him to sit. He does, eyes locked on yours as you follow, climbing into his lap, your knees bracketing his hips. 

His hands fall to your hips, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises as he tries to push your hips down onto his. You swallow a moan and lean in, your mouth hovering over his. 

“No, Miguel,” you tell him, voice soft.  

Understanding alights in his eyes after a moment and he sighs, his grip on your hips lessening as you lean in to kiss him. You start out soft and slow, your lips pressing lightly against his in gentle pecks. When you brush your tongue against the seam of his lips, he groans, the tension melting from his body as he parts them, allowing you to slip inside. You lick into his mouth, the points of his fangs catching against your tongue with every sweep, making you moan.  

You rut against his lap as you kiss, your movements unhurried. He’s completely pliant beneath you when you pull back, his eyes heavy-lidded when he opens them to look at you. 

“Take off your shirt,” you whisper, reaching for the hem of your own and pulling it over your head.  

You toss it and it hits the floor with a dull thud, Miguel’s shirt and your bra following shortly thereafter. He moans at the feel of your bare skin against his when you press into him again, reclaiming his lips in another soft kiss. You grind against him, enjoying the soft sighs and groans he lets slip with every brush of your clothed heat against his cock. His fingers lightly skim up and down your back and you shiver, your own delving into his hair.  

You take mercy on him when his groans begin to sound desperate and choked, your hips stilling as his hands clench and unclench against your back. You pull away, meeting his lust-blown eyes, and smile, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. He leans into your touch, his sharp cheekbones brushing against the palm of your hand, and something inside your chest warms at the softness. You lean in, pressing your lips to his cheek, kissing your way back toward his ear where you tell him exactly what you have planned for him (“I’m gonna take you deep and ride you slow. Would you like that, baby?”). 

Once you’re both completely naked, you sink onto his length, his hands on your hips for support. You gasp against his lips as he bottoms out, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. He buries his face in your neck and groans as your body squeezes him.  

“That's it, good boy,” you soothe, smiling when his breath hitches. 

You moan when you start to move, your hips tilting, as you undulate slowly in his lap. He nips at your neck, his sharp bites sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body, disrupting your pace.  

“Touch me,” you breathe, bringing one of his hands to your breast. 

He sighs something in Spanish against your neck, his large hand squeezing your breast gently. His thumb teases your nipple as he pulls back, and you gasp, your cunt fluttering around his cock so hard he almost comes. The tension is back in neck again as he tries not to, his jaw clenching from the effort. You lean in to kiss him again, hips still rising and falling over him as your arms wrap around his neck.  

“It’s okay, baby, I want you to come,” you whisper, stroking the back of his head, your breath hitching as his cock hits that special spot inside you. “Want you to fill me up.” 

His groan is choked, almost broken, his hands clenching on your hips and you know he’s close. You pull back and cup his face in your hand, thumb swiping across his cheek. He looks at you with lust-glazed, pleading eyes, and you know he’s trying to hold out, that he wants you to come first. You smile softly at him, gently churning your hips. “Come for me.” 

He grunts, eyes rolling back, jaw slackening as he convulses beneath you, spending himself deep inside your warm cunt. You moan at the feeling, stilling your hips as he relaxes once more. He shivers a little as he comes down, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a sigh.  

“Need to feel you come around me, amor,” he murmurs, his voice slightly muffled as he mouths at your skin. “Please.” 

You bite your lip, heat already twisting in your gut again as you slip your hand down to your sex. You toy with your clit, rolling it between your fingertips, the delicious friction sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You come with a moan, shaking as your cunt squeezes his spent cock, dragging breathless groans from between his lips. You sag against him, burrowing into his chest as you come down, his strong arms holding you in place. 

“Better?” you slur, eyelids heavy as sleep threatens to take you. 

He presses a kiss to your head, humming as he tightens his arms around you. “Better.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 18

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

Walking after having my ride request rejected four times was a humiliation I didn’t expect to face at this point in my life. With every step, the cold wind seemed to mock me, cutting my face as I shoved my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, trying to ignore the irritating feeling that things couldn’t get any worse.

Of course, that was a lie.

Thanks to the scene she made outside the studio yesterday, I was more screwed than ever. Barely awake this morning, I’d already lost count of the calls from Gerard, all laced with the same desperate tone. And as if that wasn’t enough, my name was popping up on corners of the internet I didn’t even know existed, tied to the most absurd stories.

"Bad Omens' vocalist freaks out after seeing ex with a new girlfriend." That was the most creative headline so far. It didn’t matter how hard I tried to stay out of anything that could draw attention to me on social media; it was unbearable living with every step of mine under scrutiny—through a photo, a video, or some wildly out-of-context clip. I had to think about everything: what to wear, how to talk, even how people might interpret my lip movements.

Every tiny detail was blown out of proportion.

And there was no escaping it when I was stuck next to a walking magnet for trouble. She knew exactly how much I hated feeling exposed. And, of course, she made a point of provoking me on purpose.

I adjusted the hood of my hoodie, pulling it further down. That’s when I heard it: female voices behind me. They were far off, but there was a tone of excitement that made me freeze for a second. Taking a deep breath, I tried to look casual and quickened my pace. Maybe it was paranoia, but something about their laughter felt like it was following me.

The voices grew louder. I glanced over my shoulder, and there they were—two girls whispering and looking at me like they’d just won the lottery. Panic rose like a wave. I walked faster, trying to stay calm, but my hands were already clammy inside my pockets.

I don’t know why I thought I could get away. Maybe it was stupid optimism or sheer denial. They started running, and before I knew it, one of them was at my side, gripping my arm tightly enough to make me stop.

“Noah!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as if she’d just stumbled upon a unicorn. “We spent all morning waiting for you to walk by! Finally, we got to see you!”

“Wow!” I said, looking up slightly, something about her statement rubbing me the wrong way. “Thanks for the attention, ladies, but I really need to go now.”

“You’re upset about what happened yesterday, aren’t you? If you knew how mad we are at that—”

“Look, I’m really in a hurry,” I cut her off, my tone firmer as I pulled away from her grip.

“Noah, we’re only thinking about your well-being, and it’s clear that it doesn’t involve staying around her! It’s not like Scarlet is a good choice. Maybe it’s better for you to be alone for a while!”

“Exactly!” the other one chimed in. “We’re doing everything we can to make sure she pays for tormenting you, don’t worry! But we also want you to stay away from people like her, and I think it’d be a great idea to kick her out of the band, for example.”

“I agree!” the annoying one continued. “Who knows, maybe then you’ll sing Just Pretend again—it’s my favorite song, and I think it’s unfair you don’t sing it anymore because of her!”

They spoke as if I were a doll on a shelf, with no control over my own actions or feelings. I couldn’t even choose who to date without them turning it into hell from the very start of my relationship. They’d been stalking the person I’ve loved for nine years, blowing every minor mistake out of proportion and turning it into a risk for me.

I couldn’t even choose the damn song I wanted to sing.

Forcing a smile, I tried not to look as uncomfortable as I felt. “I’m genuinely concerned about how little you have to do. This is the last time I’ll warn you to stop meddling in my personal life. And I stopped singing that song because I wanted to!”

“Okay, okay!” one of them raised her hands as if surrendering. “But before you go, could you take a picture with us?”

“Oh, please, just one photo! It’ll be quick, I promise!”

“I’m not feeling comfortable taking pictures today, sorry.”

She already had her phone in hand before I could even finish answering. The other girl joined her, giddy, saying something about posting it online. The discomfort slowly wrapped itself into a sharp pain stabbing through my chest, tightening like a thin rope around me.

All I wanted was to disappear.

“I just said I’m not feeling comfortable taking pictures! WHAT THE HELL!” I exploded, and they froze, phones in hand.

Each step felt heavier than the last. It was as if the air around me had turned denser, suffocating. My chest began to tighten, and the familiar sensation of anxiety crept to the surface, slow and cruel. At first, I tried to ignore it. I took a deep breath, adjusted my hood, fiddled with my pockets—anything to distract my mind. But nothing seemed to work. My heart beat like an off-rhythm drum, and I could feel a thin layer of sweat accumulating on my forehead, despite the biting cold.

The streets around me blurred, dissolving into unrecognizable smudges. The voices of pedestrians melded together, turning into an unbearable background noise. I tried convincing myself it was all in my head, that I just needed to reach my destination, and everything would be fine.

But the record label building seemed further and further away, even though I knew it was just a few blocks ahead. My lungs started to burn, unable to take in enough air. My hands trembled inside my pockets, and I caught myself wishing I’d accepted the girls’ help, even though I knew how absurd that was.

When I finally saw the entrance to the building, a fleeting wave of relief washed over me, only to be replaced by a nauseating sensation. My legs felt like they were giving out with each step, and sweat now trickled down the back of my neck.

I stumbled into the lobby, barely recognizing the faces around me. Gerard was there, likely waiting for me, but his expression shifted the moment he saw me.

“Noah, are you okay?” he asked, but his voice sounded distant, like he was speaking underwater.

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, I felt my body weaken. The world around me began to spin, and my vision darkened at the edges. Before I could comprehend what was happening, my legs gave out completely, and everything went black.

“Don’t think this pathetic scene, pretending you’re having some sort of breakdown, is going to save you from our conversation!”

Opening my eyes felt like waking up in hell. My head throbbed as if a drum was being pounded inside it, and the first thing I saw was Gerard’s furious face, so close it looked like he was about to explode. All he needed was to start breathing fire.

I was lying on the couch in his office, but I had no idea how I’d gotten there. All I remembered was the moment the world darkened and collapsed around me.

“I think I had a panic attack,” I muttered, pressing the bridge of my nose as a groan escaped my lips.

“Don’t start with your nonsense now!” Gerard snapped, stepping back and pacing like a caged lion. “Not with a tour about to kick off!”

Watching his frantic pacing only made me dizzier. I closed my eyes again, trying to quiet the incessant buzzing in my head.

“If you’re overwhelmed and think you can’t handle it, then shove some sedatives down your throat!” he continued, his voice dripping with contempt.

“I don’t even take medicine for a headache,” I shot back in a low tone. “You know how I feel about that.”

“Then stop with the theatrics, Noah!” he barked, his voice sharp. “Hold your ground as the frontman and quit acting like a fragile crystal. I can’t stand weak people.”

His words hit like stones being thrown at me. Even so, they still felt distant, like I was hearing them through water. My flesh trembled, a light but uncontrollable vibration.

“You screwed everything up!” he suddenly accused.

“What are you talking about?” I opened my eyes slowly, trying to refocus, and stared at him in confusion as I sat up on the couch.

“The thing I wanted most right now was a way to get rid of her!” he exclaimed, tilting his head as if explaining to an idiot. “And you thought it was a great idea to tie her even closer to the band?”

Gerard crossed his arms, leaning against the table. His expression was hard, brows furrowed, and a lone strand of hair fell over his perfectly aligned face, despite the visible exhaustion. He was young, but his fatigue seemed to age him.

“I don’t just want her off the singles, Noah. I don’t want her anywhere!”

I leaned back on the couch, resting my arms on my thighs as I stared at him. A low chuckle escaped my lips, slowly growing.

“Who said we’re on the same page, sweetheart?” I quipped, tilting my head. “Whatever you do with the band’s administration doesn’t concern me, but she stays.”

Gerard narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched. "As if you'd gain anything from this. She clearly doesn't want to be around you and does everything to ruin what the band achieves. You're an idiot, Noah. You're willing to destroy everything just to stay glued to that stupid girl?"

"ENOUGH!" I interrupted, my voice booming like thunder. "My motives for this are none of your business. You asked for the singles in exchange for reducing the contract, and I held up my end. Now, you're going to hold up yours."

He stayed silent for a moment, studying me like a predator sizing up its prey. Then he rubbed his jaw, thoughtful.

"I could hold up my end," he began, his tone calmer but dripping with sarcasm. "If you hadn't blindsided me with this move and plastered the band's name across every media outlet since yesterday thanks to your idea. You only did this so you two could ditch the label and sing happily ever after."

He leaned closer, his face filled with contempt. "You betrayed me, Noah. At no point did I agree to keep her in this circus, which is why I brought suggestions for replacements!"

"But you know that without her, I can't function." I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. "You tolerate everything she does because you know having two is better than none."

"Without her, I can't function..." Gerard repeated mockingly, his voice rising in exaggerated mimicry. He let out a harsh laugh. "Then keep functioning together, because you're still going to finish producing the rest of the album."

"That's not what we agreed on!" My voice came out louder than I intended, full of frustration. "We agreed I'd deliver the singles, and you'd turn that into a short album to close out the band's obligations with the label!"

Negotiating with Gerard was like trying to make a pact with someone trapped in a spiral of mental decay. His deals were as unstable as his patience, always tainted by his tyrannical whims.

"Of course, you're scrambling now, aren't you?" He moved closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. When he stopped in front of me, he leaned forward, invading my personal space. "You picked a fight with your biggest source of creativity. You're an incompetent mess who hasn't managed to put together a decent chorus in months, and now you're going to be forced to deliver the whole album just to prove you're still worth something!"

The laugh that followed was so sharp it felt like it reverberated directly in my nerves. He pulled back again, leaning against the edge of the table, looking smugly satisfied with the sting of his words.

"Guess what, darling?" Gerard spread his arms theatrically, as if celebrating a victory. "I've flipped the script again. Now you'll have to figure out how to make her work for you. And when she finds out you're using her..."

He paused dramatically, sighing as though genuinely regretful, but his tone betrayed the venom in his words.

"It'll just be another disappointment for her collection, won't it?"

His words were a direct punch to the gut, but I kept my expression neutral. Even though it burned, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing the pain on my face. His game was clear: manipulate, pressure, and win through exhaustion.

But I wasn't ready to give in.

Not yet.

"Alright, alright." I raised my hands in surrender as I stood up from the couch and walked toward him. My tone was laced with irony, but my gaze remained locked on his, unwavering. "But if we're going to work together, it's only fair for you to spill your little secrets, don't you think? I've always been curious about where this almost pathological grudge you have against her comes from."

I stopped a few steps away, tilting my head slightly as I watched his every reaction.

"She used to be your golden ticket, remember? That unmistakable voice, the star who made you take a chance on the band. And now? How did she go from all that to being sabotaged by you at every turn?"

Gerard's scowl remained, but something in his eyes tightened, and I pressed on, more relentless.

"Or do you really think I bought her story about not wanting to check into rehab? Because, let's face it, if she got better, what excuse would you use to keep tearing her down? It's convenient for you that she stays broken, isn't it?"

He stood still for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin, tense line. Then, without warning, he exploded. "Get out of my office!" His tone was a growl, every word spat out with restrained fury. "And don't come back here until you have something ready to hand over."

His rigid posture seemed on the verge of collapsing onto me, but I stood my ground. He took a step closer, pointing an accusatory finger at me.

"All these theories of yours mean nothing because, in the end, after everything goes through the funnel, it always comes back to you. You ruin her life because all you care about is yourself. So I suggest you figure out your place once and for all and stop messing with me."

I swallowed hard but bit back the retort threatening to escape. Now that I'd managed to rile him up as much as he'd annoyed me, I decided it was time to leave.

After a surreal chase with a duo of fans and an unbearable conversation with Gerard, which nearly sent my breakfast the wrong way, it seemed impossible for my day to get worse. But of course, underestimating the universe is always a mistake.

I greeted the guys at the studio, trying to keep my mood minimally stable. We were in a space that had belonged to a friend and was perfect for the idea we had for VAN recording. Nothing grandiose, just something intimate, focused on the collaboration we had chosen. I had arranged everything over the phone with the vocalist of a band, an old friend. I sent her the script, and she, always understanding, got it right away. Easy, simple... or so it should have been.

“Where’s the girl?” I asked Matt, who had his headphones on, fiddling with something in the sound system.

The room was partially dark, lit only by the setup lights as the crew finished preparing the scene. Matt, as always, didn’t bother to take off his headphones or pay attention to what I was saying. He just gestured toward the back of the studio. I took a deep breath, ignoring his rudeness, and moved on, determined to ensure everything was in order.

In the back, some makeshift rooms served as dressing rooms and storage for production clutter. As soon as I turned down the hallway, a familiar, nearly unmistakable smell made my stomach churn.

“Hey, just checking if everything’s ready?” I asked, trying to sound calm, my hands stuffed in my pockets to hide my nervousness.

I was about to follow up with another question when the chair in front of me swiveled around. And there she was.

Her dark, enormous eyes stared at me, gleaming with that devilish touch she used every time she wanted to get under my skin. She was flawless: perfect makeup, carefully chosen clothes, a wide smile forming a treacherous dimple in her cheek.

“Hi, Noah,” she said, winking at me as if we were having a casual meeting and not on the brink of catastrophe.

No. No. No. No. No.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” I exploded, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I’m here to shoot the music video for my song,” she replied calmly, blowing on her nails as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Can you believe I stayed up all night at the studio to finish the recorded parts? But it’s fine, nothing I can’t handle.”

“And what did you do with the collaboration?” My voice was tense as I looked around, searching for any sign of my friend. I didn’t trust her. I never would. “Where’s the girl?”

“Oh, she’s definitely in a better place, darling.” She smiled that venomous smile, blowing a kiss into the air. “Didn’t you say I’m now obligated to stay and put up with you? Well, it’s only fair that you put up with me too, you bastard.”

My head throbbed. The thought of enduring her was torture enough, but now she was here, smiling with that victorious air as if she’d just won a war I didn’t even know was happening.

“Listen here, do you think this is a joke?” I asked, crossing my arms and forcing a firmer tone. “Have you checked your phone today to see what your stunt yesterday led to? Do you want another scandal tied to your name when people find out you go around kidnapping band vocalists?”

“I don’t think it’s a joke, darling.” She stood up from the chair, strutting across the room like she owned the place. “And technically, it wasn’t me who kidnapped her—it was Folio.”

I’d deal with him later.

“Oh, relax, Noah. I’m the star here. You just need to stay in your lane and let me shine.”

It was impossible. She was impossible. And the worst part? She knew exactly what she was doing.

On set, everyone was ready. The lighting was adjusted, cameras were positioned, and the script was in hand. I forced myself to ignore her provocative gaze while the technicians made the final adjustments.

“We’ll start with the chorus scene,” I said, trying to maintain a professional tone. “Remember, it’s supposed to be a bit emotional. You need to look vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable?” She let out a short laugh, fixing her hair. “Then I’ll just imitate you.”

I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath as I heard the guys laugh quietly. She loved testing me, and I couldn’t give her the satisfaction of losing control.

The music began to play, and her voice filled the studio, as it always did. It was infuriating how she could be so good, so naturally magnetic. Everyone in the studio seemed captivated, especially the lighting technician, who leaned into his mic to say something during the pauses.

“Great job, it’s amazing,” he said, smiling in a way that made me uncomfortable.

“Thanks!” she replied with a soft laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder for a second longer than necessary.

My jaw clenched. She’s just being polite, I thought. But my mind insisted on turning that gesture into something bigger.

“Let’s keep going. I’m sure there’ll be time for flirting once we’re done.” I turned to the director of photography. “Next scene. Lights in position three. And you,” I pointed at her, “remember, this is a music video, not a theater performance.”

“As you wish, darling.” She winked, returning to her mark on the floor.

As the shoot progressed, I found myself watching her every move, every laugh she shared with the others, every touch that seemed casual but felt like a direct provocation to me. It was unbearable.

I wanted to kill myself.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff

[persephoneflowerpetals]

‘Til Death

Chapter 13: It’s Happy Ending Time!

Chapter 12: Hostile Takeover

SURPRISE! I finished this chapter up so freaking quick lol! Here’s a lovely way to end your week! ❤️ But oh my gosh, I can’t believe this is the last chapter! It’s been a journey! I just wanna give the BIGGEST thank you to everyone who’s been keeping up with the story and hanging in there through my long hiatuses lol! Seriously, I didn’t think anyone would be too interested in this fic or my Persephone, but I was blown away by the amount of support I’ve gotten from people over the past few years (can’t believe this fic took me like 3 years to make lmao), so seriously THANK YOU SO SO SOOOO MUCH to all my followers, mutuals, and to the future readers who stumble upon fic some day! 🥰🫶❤️💕 This is the LONGEST fanfiction I’ve ever made in my life and I’m glad I could improve my writing as I continued making more chapters! I’m honestly really proud of myself for this and this fic has really made me consider taking a career in writing someday ☺️💕 Also, this isn’t end, I can absolutely promise you that! I have TONS of new fanfictions and even some new fic series based off of aus that I’m planning on writing so please stay tuned for more Hades and Persephone fics! And again, thank you to everyone for reading my self indulgent fanfiction and I hope you’ve enjoyed it and that you enjoy this final chapter! 🫶❤️

By the time Hercules, Pegasus, Hades, and Persephone left the Underworld, it was very late at night. The moon and the stars were still shining brightly and beautifully as Morpheus finally finished draping his blanket of sleep across the night sky, blessing the mortals who were staying up late with a peaceful slumber.

Hercules and Pegasus soared across the sky as Hades and Persephone followed close behind in Hades’ chariot until the group made a landing at the top of Mount Olympus.

Hercules then dismounted from Pegasus and gave his head a little pat before making his way up the large set of stairs made of fluffy clouds and over to the tall, golden gates that seemed to gleam and shine even under the moonlight. He took a deep breath before knocking on the gates.

In a blur of light blue, Hermes zipped over to the gates. It seemed that he was working late tonight, as he was fully dressed and didn’t seem to be the least bit sleepy.

“Hey! Alright, man! It’s Hercules! What brings you by?” Hermes greeted cheerfully as he opened the gates.

“Uh, I was just wondering if I could talk to my father. Normally I’d just visit his temple, but um...” Hercules nervously explained as he glanced back at Hades and Persephone who were standing on the steps further back behind him.

Hermes looked past Hercules’ shoulder and blinked in surprise, “Woah, am I, like, seeing things or is that who I think it is?” he asked as he removed his glasses and wiped them off with the hem of his chiton before putting them back on.

“Yeah…this is kind of a…special situation. That’s why I wanted to talk to him here.” Hercules said with an awkward smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yikes. I’ll grab your pops for ya, but I dunno if he’s gonna be too psyched about this, man. Good luck.” Hermes said skeptically before zooming off in a flash.

Hades, who had been watching the short interaction from afar with Persephone, frowned as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, I’m definitely not getting in. I should be the one doing the talking.”

“Just relax. If anyone can convince Zeus to let you back in, it’s him. Have a little faith.” Persephone assured him.

“Hey, if that kid’s gonna be pleading my case, I’m gonna need more than ‘faith’, babe. I need a divine miracle…and a good lawyer.”

Zeus and Hera then approached the open gates with warm and welcoming smiles. Hercules noticed that they were still in their sleepwear and felt a little guilty for waking them up at this hour, but this was a matter far too important to wait and discuss until morning.

“Hello, darling.” Hera greeted as she went to hug her son and give him a kiss on the cheek.

Zeus let out a hearty chuckle as he patted Hercules on the shoulder, “Hercules, my boy! It’s wonderful to see you! What — “ he began before glancing behind Hercules to find his notorious little brother giving him a nasty glare in the distance.

“Hades…”

Hades rolled his eyes, “Oy vey. Here we go.”

“I thought I told you to never show your face here again!” Zeus growled as he lunged in the direction of Hades, the dark clouds above them starting to rumble with thunder and release small flashes of lightning.

“Father! Wait! I can explain!” Hercules exclaimed as he jumped in front of Zeus.

“I brought him here.” He confessed.

Both Zeus and Hera looked at their son with a nonplussed expression as some of the other gods on Olympus started to gather around behind them. It seems Zeus’ outburst had woken up most of them and they were curious about what was going on.

“What?! Son, why would you do such a thing?!” Zeus asked.

“Hades is losing his powers. If he doesn’t marry Persephone by sundown tomorrow, he’ll lose them forever. If you could just lift Hades’ ban long enough for the wedding — “

“Persephone?” gasped Demeter as she quickly stepped away from the crowd and moved closer to the open gates.

“No! Absolutely not! It’s out of the question!” Zeus objected, the clouds above rumbling with thunder yet again.

“But father!” Hercules pleaded.

“I cannot allow this traitor to return to Mount Olympus, even if he is losing his powers.” Zeus said as he glowered at Hades, who glowered at him right back.

“After turning his back on his own family, I think that losing his powers would be a rather fitting punishment compared to banishment.”

“But, if Hades loses his powers, then he can’t rule the Underworld properly. He needs his powers back.” Hercules explained.

Zeus gave Hercules a stern look. He loved his son very much, and he hated to argue with him, but he had to put his foot down and make him understand that this was something he wasn’t going to change his mind on.

“My boy…”

“Father,” Hercules interrupted, “I know you’re still really upset with Hades, trust me, I am too, but…I can’t believe I’m saying this…I think there’s some good in him.”

“Good?! Hercules, he stole you away from us and tried to have you killed when you were a baby! He unleashed the titans, took the entire pantheon prisoner, and tried to take my place as King of the Gods! What on Gaia’s green earth would make you believe that he’s good?!” Zeus argued.

“Because, I heard Persephone say that Hades tried to sacrifice everything to save her!” Hercules said boldly.

Zeus, Hera, and Demeter all looked at Hercules with confusion and concern.

“Save her?” They asked in unison.

“Yes, it’s kind of a long story that…well even I don’t know a lot about, but what I do know is that Hades was willing to give up the entire Underworld for Persephone, and when Hades didn’t have the strength to keep fighting for her, she was willing to protect him. I know it sounds crazy…but I think if Hades actually cares about someone that much, then he must not be entirely heartless. I mean…I kinda did the same for Meg when she sacrificed her life to save mine.”

The dark, thundering clouds above Zeus began to dissipate as he listened to what his son had to say.

“Yes…well…I…”

Hera smiled as she placed her hands on Zeus’ shoulders. “Zeus, dear. Look at them.” She said as she nodded in the direction of Hades and Persephone.

Persephone held Hades’ arm as she glanced up at him with an anxious expression. Hades looked back down at her with a small reassuring smile as if to silently tell her “everything will be okay”. The spring goddess then smiled and cuddled into his arm as Hades gazed at her fondly.

“Have you ever seen Hades look at anyone in such a way before?” Hera asked her husband.

Zeus was a silent for a moment as he watched them, almost studying the couple in awe. He’s really never seen Hades this way before, so…in love. The way he gazed into Persephone’s eyes and smiled so tenderly at her; Zeus looked at his beloved Hera that way every day. It really started to make him see his brother in a whole new light. This certainly didn’t excuse all of the terrible things he’s done, but…maybe Hercules was right. Maybe Hades wasn’t the cruel and selfish god he thought he was.

“No…I don’t believe I have.” Zeus replied, his tone sounding almost astonished.

“Our Hercules may have a point. I agree that his heinous deeds are inexcusable, but if Hades was willing to make such a large sacrifice for love, perhaps we should allow Hades a second chance to gain back our trust. He is your little brother, after all, and if Hercules was kind enough to set aside his differences to show him mercy…then maybe we should as well.” Hera proposed.

His wife made a good argument. What Hades was had done was truly nefarious and he could probably never completely forgive him for betraying him in such a heinous way, but Hera was certainly right about one thing. Hades is his brother. He’s family.

As much as Zeus felt Hades’ predicament was very well deserved, there was an aching feeling of sympathy for him. He looked so weak and tired; he’s never seen his flame so small. It also seemed that he was genuinely in love with Persephone and from the looks of it, she was just as crazy about him. It’d be callous of him to make them suffer and deny them marriage.

He wasn’t quite sure what had transpired before to cause Hades to make such an extreme sacrifice to give up the Underworld, but if Hades was truly willing to go that far for Persephone…then maybe there was hope for him. Perhaps Hades deserved a second chance to redeem himself. Who knows? Maybe Persephone will be a positive influence on him.

Zeus turned his head towards his wife and smiled as he placed a hand over hers on his shoulder. He then sighed and walked down a few steps from Olympus’ entrance.

“Alright then…” Zeus announced, “From what I’ve heard and witnessed here tonight, I believe that Hades…has the opportunity for a second chance…to make things right and earn back our trust. So, as King of the Gods, I decree that as long as Hades remains married to Persephone…his sentence of banishment from Mount Olympus will be lifted. Therefore, I will allow Hades and Persephone to be married on Olympus.”

Both and Hades and Persephone were taken aback by Zeus’ compassion. Hades raised his brows, rather surprised that Zeus was being so kind and wondered what the catch was. There had to be some sort of downside to this.

The other gods, however, were silent. Only a few quiet gasps and murmurs could be heard from the crowd of gods that had gathered around the gates.

Hercules began to clap as Hera joined him. Demeter joined in as well and soon enough, the rest of the gods were all cheering and applauding for Hades and Persephone.

The couple grinned ecstatically and looked at each other before leaning in close to share a loving, celebratory kiss. Once they separated, Hades glanced to his side to see Zeus approaching them with a smile that quickly faded into a more serious expression.

“However, if you ever try to double-cross me or this family again…there will be consequences much more serious than banishment, is that understood…brother?”

Hades rolled his eyes (yet again) and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. I’ll be on my best behavior. I’m humbled by your bountiful mercy. Yadda, yadda. Okay? Is that it or do I need to start groveling?” He replied sarcastically.

Zeus cocked his brow at his brother’s insincere thanks. He was definitely still the same old Hades in personality.

Persephone chuckled nervously, “It’s okay, Zeus. I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble…and thank you.” she said, sounding much more sincere than Hades.

Zeus nodded with a smile, then walked back up the steps to his wife and son as Demeter rushed down the stairs to meet Persephone.

“Persephone!” She called out as she took her daughter’s hands in hers.

Persephone started to get a bit nervous. She knew her mother was okay with her dating Hades, but marrying Hades was another thing entirely.

“Sweetpea…I’m not trying to talk you out of this, but are you sure this is what you want? Do you really want to marry Hades?” Demeter asked, wanting to be sure her daughter wasn’t trying to marry Hades out of pity.

Persephone nodded, “Yes…I love him…” she confidently declared as she looked over to Hades who was looking right back at her with an affectionate smirk, “…and I know he loves me too.”

Hades grinned as he approached Persephone and her mother, wrapping his arm around Persephone’s waist to pull her close to his side. “You bet I do, babe.”

“Well…if that’s the case, and he truly makes you happy…then you have my blessing.” Demeter kindly affirmed.

“Oh and, Hades…” She began, her warm smile quickly shifting into an angry frown as she aggressively grabbed the collar of his chiton to pull him down to eye level.

“If you EVER do anything to break my daughter’s heart again, so help me, I will — “

“Mother!” Persephone chided.

Demeter gave her daughter an apologetic smile as she let go of Hades and sighed.

“Just…take good care of my flower. That’s all I ask.” she calmly requested.

He looked to Persephone, smiling at her fondly once again.

“Don’t worry. I will.”

Hermes then flew up above the group of gods to address them, “Alright, cats! Let’s clear out and get some sleep! We got a big fat Greek wedding to plan in the morning!”

And with that, the gods dispersed, going back to their little palaces in the clouds as they quietly chattered about the big event that would take place tomorrow.

~X~X~X~X~

Night soon turned to morning as Apollo rode his chariot across the sky. The big day had finally arrived: Hades’ and Persephone’s wedding. There was excitement buzzing in the air as all the gods did their part to make Olympus look magnificent for the ceremony.

Meanwhile, Persephone stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom in her mother’s cloud palace as her sister, Despoina adjusted her wedding dress. She was as nervous as a bride could be on her wedding day. This was a very important day for both her and Hades and she wanted to make sure everything was perfect (apparently, old habits die hard).

“Are you sure this bouquet isn’t too much?” she nervously asked her sister as she looked down at her large bouquet, “I know flowers are kinda my thing, so they should be big and extravagant, but I don’t want them to be too extravagant, y’know? But I don’t want them to be too plain and boring either.”

Despoina shook her head and rolled her eyes as she tied the fabric on the back of Persephone’s dress. “Perse, seriously, it’s fine. Just chill out. You’ve got wedding jitters.” She reassured her with a small smile.

“I know. You’re right.” Persephone agreed before taking a deep breath.

She looked in the mirror for a moment, admiring the gorgeous white dress Aphrodite had made for her, then suddenly gasped as a brief thought crossed her mind. Despoina looked at her worriedly, wondering what catastrophe had happened for her to panic so abruptly.

“Oh, gods! I just remembered I never finished spring! What am I — “ Persephone fretted as her mother walked into the room with a veil.

“Calm down, blossom. I’ll take care of it. You just relax and focus on getting married.” Demeter said as she created a flower crown to attach to the veil and carefully placed it on top of Persephone’s head.

Persephone closed her eyes and took another deep breath once again.

“Right. Okay.”

Meanwhile, Hades was standing at the center of Olympus dressed in his best chiton and himation. These garbs looking much more formal and regal with a darker shade of black and dark blue compared to the ones he usually wore. He also had gold cuffs on each wrist to match the golden laurel wreath his wore on his head (secretly hoping it wouldn’t draw too much attention to pathetic little flame he had left up there).

He held his classic skull shaped clasp (also gold colored to stick with the gold theme had going) between his sharp teeth as he struggled to keep the fabric of his himation together on his shoulder, trying to make sure it looked nice and proper.

“Well, little brother,” Zeus said loudly as he suddenly came up behind Hades and gave him a strong pat on the back, causing him to stumble forward.

Hades’ eye widened in surprise as he turned his head towards Zeus and gave him a small, annoyed glare before rolling his eyes and shaking head. He then took to clasp out of his mouth as he turned his attention back to his himation.

“I never thought this day would come.” Zeus continued with a warm and hearty chuckle.

“What? The day I would come back to Olympus?” Hades asked casually, sounding a bit annoyed as he put on his clasp.

“Well, yes, and the day you would get married. It’s hard to believe my little brother has finally settled down!”

Hades rolled eyes once again as he continued fixing and adjusting his himation, trying to ignore his brother.

Poseidon then came up behind Zeus, holding his trident as he put a hand on his older brother’s shoulder.

“Haha! Yes, we’ve been taking bets for centuries on whether you’d actually tie the knot one day! I just can’t believe it’s with Persephone! I dunno how you managed to woo a goddess so out of your league, but by gods, ya did it! Good for you, brother!” Poseidon teased as he removed his hand from Zeus’ shoulder to playfully punch Hades in the arm a little too hard.

“Ow!” Hades winced as he rubbed his arm while giving his other brother the same annoyed glare.

“Haha! We thought you’d have to resort to kidnapping in order to find a bride!” Zeus laughed as Poseidon laughed along with him.

“Ha! Kidnapping! That’s a good one!” Poseidon wheezed.

Hades did his best to keep his temper as his brothers teased him. Last thing he wanted was to get kicked out again and ruin his own wedding.

“Oy. I knew there was downside to this.” He thought to himself as he turned to face his older brothers.

“Heheheh, yeah, yeah. That’s real great. Hilarious. I gotta go. Gotta talk to a guy about a cake.” Hades lied with a phony laugh as he walked away from the two who were still cracking up.

“Yeah, so funny I forgot to laugh. They keep it up I’m gonna turn this wedding into a funeral!” He said quietly to himself.

~X~X~X~X~

It wasn’t long before the ceremony was finally set up. Olympus looked absolutely astounding! The marble pillars (that were actually made of clouds) were adorned with spiral strands of bright leafy vines and light pink roses. There was a beautiful, lavish fountain that flowed with ambrosia (that the other gods had to keep Bacchus away from in fear of him swimming in it). A group of cherubs began to play a romantic melody on their instruments as dozens of gods and titans gathered around the altar where Hades and Hera stood.

On the outside, Hades looked pretty cool and collected, but on the inside, he was rattled with nerves, but in an excited sort of way. He’s been waiting for this moment since the day he truly fell for Persephone. He has never been more ready for anything in his entire immortal life. Persephone, the goddess of spring, his one and only love, was about to become his wife.

Oh, he loved the way that sounded.

Persephone, his wife.

No doubt he was going to take every chance he could get to refer to her his wife after that day.

Suddenly, a cherub flew up to Hera and quickly whispered something in her ear before flying off.

“We are ready to begin.” Hera announced as the guests who had been excitedly chattering amongst themselves got quiet.

The cherubs that had been playing music before silenced their instruments and everyone looked opposite of the altar.

The cherubs then started to play a slow, enchanting song…and there she was.

Persephone, holding her big, extravagant bouquet of blue forget-me-nots and bright yellow daffodils began to walk slowly down the aisle with a shy little smile. Her dress fit her so perfectly, she truly looked like a goddess.

Her hair was put up in an elegant low bun, wavy strands of hair framing her face beautifully while her lovely eyes glimmered even more than usual from her shimmery golden eye shadow. On her head sat a gorgeous flower crown made of small white flowers and roses with a dainty white veil attached in the back.

Hades was absolutely speechless.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the most beautiful goddess that has ever walked the cosmos. She was glowing. She was ethereal. She was ravishing.

He simply couldn’t believe that this stunning goddess was about to become his wife for all eternity. He has never loved anyone else more than he loves her. That dazzling goddess walking down the aisle was his soulmate.

Persephone smiled a little more as soon as her eyes met Hades’. She saw his lovestruck gaze right away and it made her smile even more.

Hades nearly melted right there and then. He was so overcome with emotion for her; he did his best not to start tearing up. Not that he was too ashamed or embarrassed to cry in front of Persephone, but he knew if he shed even a single tear, his brothers would never let him live it down, so Hades kept it together.

However, Persephone was already starting to tear up, trying to steady her breathing in order to keep herself from breaking down.

When she finally reached the altar, Hades took her hand in his, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb as he looked at her with an adoring smile. Persephone took a silent deep breath and gave him an equally adoring smile.

The song then came to an end and Hera began to speak,

“We are gathered here today on Mount Olympus, home of the gods, to celebrate this momentous occasion and bear witness to the divine matrimony of Persephone, the Goddess of Spring and Hades, the God of the Underworld. May these deities always be blessed with peace and joy, and may their love be eternal.”

The couple then turned to fully face each other, Hades still keeping hold of Persephone’s hand as they prepared to make their vows, their eyes staying completely locked on one another.

“Hades, do you take Persephone to be your wedded wife, to love and protect, to cherish and respect, to honor and trust for all of eternity?”

Hades looked deeply into Persephone’s eyes as he uttered those two beautiful words,

“I do.”

Persephone’s lips quivered a bit through her smile as tears began to well up in her eyes again, trying so desperately not to start sobbing. She closed her for a moment and took a short breath to calm down as she felt Hades give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Persephone, do you take Hades to be your wedded husband to love and protect, to cherish and respect, to honor and trust for all of eternity?”

Without any hesitation, Persephone proudly and lovingly declared with all her heart,

“I do.”

“Then as Queen of the Gods and Goddess of Marriage, I — Hera, pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss th— “

Hades and Persephone could hardly even wait for Hera to finish speaking as they threw themselves into each others’ arms and shared a passionate kiss, the other gods and titans ceremoniously clapping and cheering for them all the while.

Hera blinked in surprise for a moment, then smiled as she chuckled softly and clapped along with the crowd of guests.

Suddenly, Hades felt a surge of powerful energy rush through him, like a wave of heat flowing throughout his entire body. He reluctantly broke the kiss as he stepped back and looked at his hands that were starting to feel very hot.

Persephone watched him curiously with a bit of concern, wondering if he was okay. His form began to glow an essence of light blue as his hair that was almost as short and small as the flame of a candle stick, abruptly burst into a fiery, blue blaze.

No longer did he feel weak and weary; quite the contrary, actually. Now he felt as strong and energized as ever, like he could take on the cosmos.

Some of the guests gasped and watched in awe as Hades beamed and flared up, practically engulfed in bright blue flames. He pumped his fists in the air and did a little happy dance.

“BOOM! BADA BOOM! YEAH, BABY! HADES IS BACK IN BUSINESS!”

Persephone grinned from ear to ear, extremely overjoyed that her husband finally got his powers back. Hades then looked over to his wife with a suave smirk.

“C’mere, you.”

He grabbed her waist and pulled her close to him, practically sweeping her off her feet as he dipped her. Persephone gasped in surprise and giggled as Hades once again gazed into her sparkling, eyes.

The pair leaned in close as their lips met again for another kiss, Persephone placing her hand on his cheek to caress his face as Hades held her in his arms.

As the couple separated once more, they looked out into the crowd of guests. Demeter and Despoina clapped and smiled as Demeter wiped her tears of joys away from her face.

Next to them stood none other than Rhea, sobbing happily as she blew her nose into a handkerchief. “That’s my, baby boy!” she wept proudly.

Hades chuckled and waved to his mother in the crowd as he gently pulled Persephone closer to his side. He then glanced over to her and gave her playful smirk before picking her up bridal style and carrying her away from the altar through the Olympus gates, down the stairs, and over to their chariot that was waiting for them as the crowd of guests followed them, still cheering and clapping to see them off to their honeymoon.

Hades stepped into the chariot as he carefully put Persephone back down. The goddess then looked at the beautiful bouquet she still held in her other hand and tossed it into the crowd of cheering guests. A group of single goddesses began darting towards the flowers, only to be intercepted by Thallo (who Persephone kindly invited to the wedding), who had leaped in front of them all to catch the bouquet in her mouth.

The unicorn then trotted up to Pegasus and nuzzled her head close to his as she fluttered eyelashes. Pegasus let out a bashful whinny/chirp and flapped his wings as Hercules and Meg (who had also been kindly invited to the wedding by Persephone) stood by him and laughed.

Persephone giggled and looked at Hades who pulled her to his side once again before taking the reigns with his other hands.

He then looked back at the guests and gave them a playful little salute and a wink as Persephone looked back with him as waved to everyone before taking off into the sunny afternoon sky.

Pain and Panic (who were also allowed to attend the wedding despite the “no minions on Olympus” rule) watched as the happy couple flew off into the distance. Pain waved as Panic cried and obnoxiously blew his nose into a handkerchief.

“Don’t ya just love happy endings?” Panic asked his friend as he sniffled.

So, you’re probably wonder what’s next for the lovely couple? Who knows? However, their story certainly isn’t over.

One thing is for certain, though, you don’t need the Fates’ eye to see that they both lived happy ever after.

~X~X~X~X~

Meanwhile, in Tartarus…

“ARRGH! I WAS SO CLOSE! I had the key right there in my hand!” Hecate shrieked before raising a big heavy hammer with a grunt and slamming it down atop a large rock, watching it crumble to bits.

“Ugh, well, you can’t blame us, Hecate.” Canis said as he walked past Hecate carrying very heavy bits of rock on his back in a leather pack.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not our fault you’re a total clutz.” Lupus added as he straggled behind Canis, his pack looking much heavier and overfilled compared to the other empusa.

“OH, SHUT UP, YOU IDIOTS!” yelled Hecate.

“Hey, hey, hey! What with all the yapping over here?!” A random imp asked as he walked up to the three while holding a clipboard in his hand.

“Less talking and more smashing! We got another load coming in!” He said as he pointed upwards, an avalanche of large rocks suddenly tumbling down in front of Hecate.

Hecate growled as she raised her hammer to smash another rock as Canis and Lupus walked off to deposit the bits of rock in their heavy packs.

“Someday I’m gonna get my revenge on that stupid, lovesick son of a — “ Hecate grumbled to herself.

“Hey! I told you to can it over there! This is the land of eternal punishment! Not the land of group therapy! Now, shut up and get to work!” The managing imp yelled from the distance.

Hecate huffed and grumbled an insult under her breath before rolling her eyes and smashing another rock.

[haztobegood]

This 28th comes with the heaviest of hearts. Over the past few days I've been finding comfort in the many, many ways Liam's memory will live on in the thousands of stories we have, so I wanted to share a few fics I love that feature Liam.

🦕 Hot Zauce by wemadethishome @theeliampayne (NR, <1k, OT5, fluff)

Zayn gets Liam, Niall, Harry, and Louis to try his homemade hot sauce.

🦕 The In-Between by LadyAJ_13 @ladyaj-13 (G, 2K, OT5 friendship, afterlife)

“You wake up in a desert with an angel, a demon and a grim reaper-” “-and the accounts manager!” “-yes, alright Liam, and the accounts manager - and you haven’t realised you’re dead?”

🦕 Hesitate by allwaswell16 @allwaswell16 (E, 2k, Liam/Louis, childhood friends to lovers, college au)

He’d always been in love with Louis. From the time he was old enough to understand attraction, he’d been attracted to Louis, not that he’d been ready to do anything about it at the time. Instead, he’d just supported him like a best friend should. He was there for Louis when he came out to his mom. He was there for Louis when he landed the leading role in the school play. He was there for him when Louis didn’t have a date for the prom. He was there when Louis got his heart broken. And he waited. He’d waited until he couldn’t stand to wait any more. A college au where Liam and Louis went from childhood friends to lovers to exes and back again.

🦕 The Grundy County Drag Show Incident by haztobegood (T, 3k, Liam/Zayn, drag show, gay awakening)

The instrumental opening of Beyoncé’s Halo filled the bar, and the crowd clapped in time to the beat. Holding a wireless mic in her gloved hand, Veronica Stardust owned the stage. She was one of the most vocally talented drag queens in the Midwest. Harry and Louis had seen this act a few times before and were always blown away at the power of her voice. Liam, however, was just experiencing it for the first time. He didn’t know what was yet to come.

🦕 Rising to the Occasion by LadyAJ_13 @ladyaj-13 (G, 4k, OT5 friendship, Great British Bake Off)

The camera pans across lush parkland to highlight a white tent, crisp and blinding in the spring sunshine. Four people cross the green lawn, elbows knocking until one is shoved to the side. The camera shot changes, zooming in on the same four figures lined up in cream aprons. “We’re One Direction,” they say, with cheesy grins and almost in unison. “And this is The Great British Stand up to Cancer Bakeoff!”

🦕 I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by lululawrence @lululawrence (NR, 4k, Liam/Nick Grimshaw, genderswapped, firefighter!Liam)

Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it. Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her.

🦕 For One of the Least of These by LadyLondonderry @londonfoginacup (G, 6k, OT5 friendship, witches, roommates)

“Sorry,” says Harry. “The fox has a curse?” He looks back toward the living room, suddenly feeling like at any moment some sinister force is going to come rushing through and attack them. He doesn’t like curses. Even the oven freaks him out a bit. “Correction,” says Niall. “The fox is the curse. He’s human, I can tell.” “Whoa,” says Liam. “You just let a cursed human loose in our house?” “Well I wasn’t going to leave him out there, was I?” Niall asks, looking at Liam like he’s daft again. “It’s freezing out there!” Or, the one where Harry, Liam, Niall and Zayn are witches and Louis is the fox with a curse.

🦕 bad luck to talk on these rides by wordsnnotes @quelsentiment (G, 10k, Liam&Louis, Liam/Zayn, first meetings and awkward conversations)

“So… how did you and Zayn meet exactly?” Louis turned to look at him, and Liam flinched under his somewhat cold stare. “What, Zayn hasn’t told you? I’m offended, I’ll have to have a word with him.” Liam genuinely couldn’t tell if Louis was joking or not. He squirmed a little under the pressure. “No, I mean, he did. Just thought it would be interesting to have your own perspective on it, I guess.” “Why? Are you conducting some kind of investigation? Want to know if our stories match up or something?” Liam nervously chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. “What? No, of course not.” He shot a glance at Louis, who raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything else, as if waiting for Liam to explain. But what's there to explain? he thought, half panicking. He only wanted to be friendly, goddammit. Or: Liam just started dating Zayn and is desperate to make a good impression on Louis, his best friend. But things are off to an awkward start.

🦕 Singing Harmonies in Neverland's Embrace by zanni_scaramouche @zanniscaramouche (M, 21k, Liam/Harry, famous/not famous, omegaverse)

Two minutes and seventeen seconds. That’s all it took. Liam wasn’t there, he’s only read the reports. He doesn’t know if Harry’s heart sounded the same as it does now, rapid and high strung. If Harry had frozen at the scent of Zayn’s blood. If Harry had screamed, or gasped, or cried. Liam wasn’t there, and he’s determined to make sure he never finds out what Harry does when one of his bodyguards takes a knife to the chest.

🦕 You Don't Have To Be Lonely This Christmas by LadyLondonderry @londonfoginacup (T, 35k, Liam/Zayn, Christmas, library, roommates)

Louis knew that it would happen sooner or later. He was struggling, and his roommates weren’t. It only made sense for them to offer his place in the house to someone else. But now, it’s the first of December, and he has less than a week to find somewhere cheap to stay. At least until after the holidays. Enter: an old friend with an old house and a suspiciously empty bed. Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

🦕 not even a landslide or riptide could take it all away by we_are_the_same @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (M, 49k, Liam/Zayn, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort)

When Liam was younger he used to daydream about fame, but right now he wishes he was still fourteen and naive enough to think that the things that people would have to say about him were nice. But he’s not fourteen. He’s twenty eight and for the past decade he’s grown accustomed to being a commodity, being on display. He’s had more media training than he can remember, but no amount of training could have prepared him for what’s been coming at him in the past few hours, for the judgment, the memes and the laughter. For the way that he’s suddenly become theirs now in a way that he’s never been, not even at the height of fame. When Liam gets outed via sextape, his whole world collapses around him. In the midst of all the chaos, an unexpected lifeline appears in the form of a DM from Zayn: If you find yourself needing to escape, go here. Even though they haven’t talked in years, Liam is just desperate enough to go. He doesn’t expect to find himself on a farm in the middle of nowhere, face to face with a man he hasn’t seen in years, but who somehow looks more familiar to him than the face he sees when he looks in the mirror.

🦕 Live a Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire (HisDarlin) @laynefaire (E, 58k, Liam/Zayn, exes to lovers, future fix-it fic)

It’s 2025. After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour. With the whirlwind about to begin again, Liam re-evaluates the last ten years - the fame, the money, the people who changed his life forever - and the person who walked away.

🦕 Crawling on Your Shores by juliusschmidt @juliusschmidt (E, 67k, Liam/Harry, strangers to lovers, small towns and aliens)

"You're a mechanic?" Liam nods. Harry gives him another long, appraising look. This time it lingers on his hands. "Your nails are clean." The tips of Liam's fingers tingle. "Got laid off a month ago." "Sorry to hear that." Harry smiles, soft and small. ~ Liam is searching for direction, purpose, connection, and, ultimately, himself. Harry is searching for aliens.

🦕 Influenced. by zita17, zmmf @louisandtheaquarian @zaynmaliksmiddlefinger (E, 353k+ WIP, Liam/Zayn, famous/not famous)

When Louis Tomlinson goes to bed on New Year's Eve, he is *not* prepared to wake up to a job offer that's layered in more NDAs than he's ever seen courtesy of ZAYN, A-list pop star and Louis’ best friend Liam's celebrity crush. But what is Louis even less prepared for? Zayn's Very! Enthusiastic! Influencer! boyfriend Harry Styles. When Harry Styles signs on to become Zayn’s fake boyfriend, he's expecting 12 months of good press and a generous paycheck to help launch his hair and skincare line—he wasn't expecting to fall in love at first sight with the man who'll apparently be following Zayn around All. The. Damn. Time. The Entire Year. A fake dating with a twist, famous/not-famous, enemies to friends to secret lovers au where Larry and Ziam fall in love behind the scenes while Zarry bicker in public.

Part 2 of my favorite Liam fics

[carlottawllms]

Reputation

Mason Mount x Reader Angst / Fluff Word Count: 6.1K

Important: The article used in this is fake! It was only created for this fic and has nothing to do with reality! Please keep that in mind at all times!

I won’t lie, I’m very unhappy with myself. This was one of the most exciting requests I’ve ever received, and I was hit by a bloody writers block, which is why I ended up writing the what feels like worst fic ever. My apologies if this is utter crap.  

I hope you still somehow like it! Enjoy <3 And as always, feedback is very much appreciated.

“Hi, I’m Mason.” The young man, whom you’d only ever seen on photos, posters and social media posts, smiled as he stretched his hand out for you to shake.

You’d already seen that he’d won over many of your colleagues straight after setting foot on the ground not even 10 minutes ago. A pretty smile here, a soft giggle there, and everyone was blown away by the admittedly handsome man.  

Of course, a Premier League player working for a good cause in his spare time instead of being photographed for the next magazine could only be wonderful and you assumed that some of your female colleagues would try and shoot their shot, but you’d try to keep away as best as you could.

Yesterday, shortly before you’d called it a day, your boss had informed you about the new arrival: Mason Mount. You weren’t too much into football, but even you knew who he was. Especially after that one headline had been plastered all over the internet:

And that was the main reason why you weren’t happy about him being here and trying to lend a helping hand. He wasn’t here because he wanted to, but to redeem himself and his reputation. Showing his face while working for a good cause would make people swoon and he’d be in their good books with a snap of his fingers and the thought of the organisation that meant so much to you being dragged into a PR stunt like this made your blood boil.

A lecturer from your university had introduced you to the Holly Wilshere Foundation, a charity organisation that helped people and families in need with handing out affordable or free food, buying necessities for nursery or school kids and partial payments for e.g. school trips.

After having spent a couple of weeks with Holly and the other voluntary workers, you’d grown incredibly fond of the people who came there for support and putting a smile on their faces had become your favourite thing in the world.

Which was why you were very reluctant to let Mason be part of this and potentially ruin it because of who he was.  

“y/n.”, you greeted him briefly and shook his hand. “Has anyone already told you what to do?”

If he was surprised by your brash manner, he was good at hiding it. Mason simply shook his head. “No, David only told me to go and find you as you’d take me under your wing.”

“Lovely, that’s the opposite of what I asked for.”, you mumbled, aware that you probably came across as the biggest bitch, but you didn’t care enough to change your attitude. You didn’t need him to like you, in fact, the less he liked you, the less he would be around. At least, that’s what you hoped.

“We are having some sort of party next week for the people who come to us for help and there are still hundreds of things to be done for that. It's probably not your standard but now that you're here, you're going to have to pitch in.”

“I’m not too bad with my hands.”, he told you. The ambiguous undertone was probably not intended, but it still made you roll your eyes. “As long as you don’t make me paint, I should be fine. Last time I painted with my niece she thought my dog was an airplane.”

When there was no reaction from your side, Mason sighed quietly. It was obvious that you weren’t his biggest fan, and he couldn’t really blame you for it after what the press had published about him. It was all blown out of proportion and spun to attract more attention and generate clicks, but he already had a feeling that it wouldn’t change anything for you.

It didn’t sit right with him that you seemed to pigeonhole him, but at the same time he was aware how some of the people in the footballing industry liked to use charity organisations for their own advantage and you probably weren’t aware that he was patron for another foundation as he genuinely liked working with people – preferably away from the media.

“The party is the coming weekend, meaning we have about 5 days to prepare everything, whilst also doing our main work. Now that you’re with me, we can split the tasks so I can help a little more with our normal work.”

“Do you think I could also get to know the other work?”

“I won’t lie, I’m not a fan of the idea, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Mason hated that you were so cold and distant with him, but he was willing to try a little more. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted you to like him and despite you being a little bitchy, he felt that it was worth trying.

David had described you as a wonderful person, someone people loved to be around and who genuinely loved working here which was why Mason didn’t buy any of your snappy behaviour. Maybe you just had a bad day.

“What can I do? I don’t want to be in the way, so just tell me where I can help, and I’ll try.”

You nodded, thinking it was best to get him to work on something rather than having him talk to you some more, so you asked him to follow him into one of the bigger offices. The others had already put down everything you’d need. Paper, pens and everything for the party bags.

Mason, who’d followed you quietly looked at all the stuff, obviously unsure of what you’d ask him to do. “Well, the name tags have to be made, there’s about 200 of them and then the same number of party bags that need to be put together. There’s more to do, but I think you could start with the tags.”

“Yeah, sure. Shouldn’t be a problem.”, he smiled. Copying names didn’t sound too difficult.

“Here you have the list with the names and all the information you need. Can I leave you with those?”

He was a little disappointed you’d leave him on his own, but he agreed anyway and got to work. The sheet didn’t state anything other than the names, some of them super long and after thinking about it for a moment, he decided to stick to the last name and one letter for the first name.

You didn’t come back for a while and whilst he wondered if you’d just leave him on his own for the rest of the day, his thoughts just continued to travel around you. Despite your bad mood, you had to be a very kind-hearted person as you not only worked here in your free time, but also seemed to get along with everyone here.

And you were pretty. Very pretty. The kind of pretty that had him staring at you in a way he shouldn’t. He knew it was ridiculous, he’d just met you and you didn’t seem to be very fond of him and it sounded pathetic, but he really wanted you to like him.

When you got back into the room, you’d calmed down a little. You’d had a chat with Henry, one of your colleagues who’d become a father not too long ago and the pictures of his absolutely adorable daughter he kept showing you never failed to put a smile on your face.

That smile however faded when you looked at the name tags Mason had finished already. “It’s first and last name, Mount.”, you sighed. “Just like it’s mentioned on here.” You waved one of the tags someone had prepared as an example and Mason just silently looked at the example, knowing he’d messed up. “You’re about as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle.”

He gulped as his heart dropped into his tummy. Writing name tags was probably the easiest of things and he hated himself for doing it wrong. A blush spread over his cheeks in embarrassment whilst he kept his eyes firmly on the tag in front of him.

“Sorry, I just…I’ll do it again.”, he mumbled. Mason was mortified, knowing you had to think of him as the biggest idiot ever, but you didn’t comment on it again. Instead, you flopped down on one of the chairs and grabbed a couple of empty tags for yourself.  

You knew it wasn’t a bad mistake, rather something that probably would’ve happened to you too, so you didn’t say anything and instead enjoyed the way the both of you worked away in silence for a while, the only sounds in the room being the sharpies gently scratching on the paper as one by one, the names were copied onto the tags.

Had you done some research before, you would’ve known that Mason wasn’t one of those people who could stay quiet for long, but as you hadn’t, him speaking up again only irritated you further.

“Are you here every day?”

“No, I have a paid job during the day and can only be here two afternoons per week and then every other Saturday.”, you explained without raising your gaze from the tags. “This week is an exception as otherwise we wouldn’t get everything done in time.”

Mason hummed understandingly as he slowly began to realise just how much dedication it took for someone to work fulltime and work for free three times a week on top. David had mentioned how much you loved the foundation and how much you gave, but he had never thought about what it meant.

“I like what you do here.”, he mentioned, trying to start a topic you might feel comfortable with. “You know, using your free time to help and put smiles on those people’s faces.”

“Look, you don’t have to pretend, Mount.”, you said as you looked up from the tags, eyes locking on his and if you weren’t mistaken, you saw a flash of emotion in them. “I know why you’re here. You might be able to fool everyone else with a couple of smiles and some carefully chosen words, but I know you’re only here cause it’s perfect for getting your good-boy-image back.”

Mason was taken aback by the brashness of your words. He’d suspected that your problem with him had something to do with the latest headlines, but he hadn’t expected you to be so open about it and as used as he was to being disliked, he felt like he had to defend himself. Especially as helping others was something that was very close to his heard.

“I really do like it, y/n. There are so many people, families and kids especially who need help. I’m part of a charity foundation, too it’s-“

You tried to block out the fact that he kept talking despite you not making more sounds than an uninterested hm or the occasional okay, but today didn’t seem to be your day.  

“Mount, for the love of god, please be quiet, I can’t even hear myself losing the will to live.”, you mumbled under your breath. It had actually only been meant as a low murmur to relieve yourself of the annoyance burning in your tummy and not for him to hear, but out of the corner of your eye you saw his smile disappeared from his face.

“Sorry.” His voice was quiet and the way he dropped his head to focus on the task at hand, had you feeling a little guilty for being so bitchy, but this ugly devil on your shoulder kept you from apologising.

You just had a really bad day. A really bad one.

In the office this morning, basically everything had gone wrong. Your boss had been moaning about your colleague who hadn’t met the deadline he’d set and then he’d handed it over for you to finish it within half an out. Another colleague had spilled coffee all over your desk and papers, causing your stress level to rise significantly cause less than five minutes later the clients whose house you’d designed came in to take a look at the suggestions only to make a complete u-turn and ask for the opposite of what they’d initially wanted.  

It wasn’t an excuse, but you were running low on patience and kindness today and you took it out on the next possible person: Mason.

For the rest of the day, you worked quietly alongside each other, writing the tags and once they were finished, you started with the party bags. When you eventually got up to go and find David, half of the bags were already done.

Mason sighed quietly once you left him on his own without so much as a word. He knew it was probably his fault. Instead of respecting that you were in a bad mood and didn’t want to engage with him, he’d kept talking until you’d snapped. “Just shut up tomorrow, Mount.”, he mumbled to himself.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to finish all the bags or at what time he could leave, but when he grabbed another bag to fill, David came in.

“Hey Mase.”, David smiled as he patted him on the shoulder. “We’re calling it a day for today, so you can leave to. Thank you very much for your help, mate, we really appreciate it.”

“Okay, I’ll head out then.”, Mason smiled. “I erm…”, he scratched his head, unsure if he should even propose it without having spoken to you first. What if he only made things worse?

“Yeah?”

“I thought maybe for the kids you know…it would be fun to do a little sports tournament and…I could bring some cones and balls from Carrington?”, he scratched his head. “Only if you don’t have anything else planned that is.”

David’s face lit up at Mason’s suggestion and nodded quickly. “Oh, that would be really perfect. The kids will absolutely love it. Thank you very much, Mason!”

-

When you came in the next morning, Mason was already there, sitting in the same office as yesterday and already back to filling the party bags.

He looked up when you stepped into the room. “Morning.”, he sent you a shy smile, but dropped his gaze back on the table rather quickly. The atmosphere was awkward, but you couldn't blame him. You’d been a mardy arse yesterday, it was no wonder he didn’t want to speak to you.

“Morning.”, you smiled although he couldn’t see it anyway. “We can set the tables in the big hall first and then get back to working on the bags. Bit of variety hasn’t hurt anybody, has it?”

Mason didn’t acknowledge your attempt at a joke to lift the tension, but he nodded and got up, following you into the big hall where the food would be served at the party. He didn’t speak at all on the way there, obviously careful around you and it made you feel even worse.

For a while, you set the tables on the opposite side of the room, whilst Mason did the same. Your gaze kept wandering to Mason every once in a while, observing how he was a little quiet and far from the energetic person he’d been yesterday, even when others came in to talk to him.

You knew it was because of you and what you’d said yesterday, and you kept thinking about a proper apology. Once you’d woken up this morning the realisation of what you’d said had kicked in and left you feeling like the biggest piece of shit.

Obviously, you still weren’t super happy with him being here and the potential scratch his name could bring to the foundation, but the way you’d acted had been far from okay.

After mulling about it for another couple of minutes, you eventually made your way over to where Mason was about to finish the first table.

Your eyes quickly flitted over the arrangement of the plates and you noticed not only that it wasn’t done in the way it was supposed to be, but more importantly the lack of the instruction sheet.

“It’s supposed to look like this.”, you mentioned as you handed him the missing sheet.

“Sorry.”, he blushed, trying to quickly rearrange the stuff as he was incredibly embarrassed at messing up another thing. The day couldn’t have started better…

“No, it’s okay, you didn’t know. I thought there was an instruction sheet out here, too.”

You helped him correcting the arrangement quickly before moving on to another table. Mason still didn’t speak, his gaze firmly set on the table and it as the minutes passed by, it became more and more obvious just how uncomfortable he was around you.

With a deep sigh, you placed the cutlery aside. “Hey erm…Mason, I’m sorry for yesterday, okay?” You squeezed his arm gently to make him look at you. “It’s not an excuse, but I’ve had a really bad day and took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I can be a lot. You weren’t the first to tell me.”, he chuckled, but in his kind brown eyes, you could see that he didn’t find it funny at all. He looked hurt – understandably so. Especially if people had actually told him he was too much.

“You haven’t been too much or anything.”, you shook your head. “Actually, if the day hadn't been so crappy, I would’ve loved to hear your stories.”

When Mason raised his eyebrows with a small smile on his face, you blushed.

“And you’ve been a great help. I know I said something else yesterday, but I didn’t mean that. Mistakes happen and I should’ve told you what exactly you were supposed to do instead of leaving you on your own and snapping. You’ve lifted a huge weight off my shoulders with how much you’ve managed to do and I’m really thankful for that.”     

“Oh, it’s nothing.”, he shrugged, but he couldn’t hide the bright smile. “Listen, y/n. I know you think I’m only here because of that headline and I won’t pretend it has absolutely nothing to do with it because yes, my agent told me that something positive would get me back into people’s good books, but he gave me a couple of choices and I chose this because I genuinely like helping people.”

His tummy flipped when he caught your soft smile. Now that you both seemed to be on better terms, he finally allowed himself to admit that you were incredibly pretty. Your kind eyes crinkled, and you tilted your head a little when you smiled and for some reason, he found it adorable.

“You’re a patron for a foundation, right?”, you asked, and he nodded quickly.

“Yeah, it’s a charity for children’s palliative care. They made me patron two years ago on my birthday and I know it wasn’t meant as a birthday present in that sense, but for me it felt like it. The work they do there is absolutely amazing and I’m really proud to be part of it and to help them and support those kids as best as I can.”

The broad smile and the gentle expression in his eyes as he talked about the charity organisation had your heart leaping in your chest. He meant every word he said, and it impressed you.

“I wish I could do more, but with our schedule it’s quite difficult.”, he sighed. “I think now that I’ve settled in here in Manchester, I’ll see if I can find something.”

The two of you kept talking while finishing with setting the tables and now that you finally got along, it was way more fun than before. Mason was a genuinely funny person and being around him was surprisingly easy. He had good jokes up his sleeves, asked about you and your life and he never seemed to be bored by what you said.

And he was a bit of a touchy person, never inappropriate or assaulting though. It was just a brush of his hand against yours when he passed you, his knee knocking against yours as you sat down for your lunchbreak or grabbing your forearm whilst laughing at something you’d said.

Soft and gentle touches that made your tummy flip from time to time.

“David told me about the idea you’ve had, you know? The idea with the tournament for the kids? I think it’s amazing.”

Mason tilted his head a little. “You think so?”, he nudged your shoulder with his, a hint of a proud smile playing on his pink lips you found yourself staring at more often than you should.

“Yeah.”, you nodded. “We’ve planned some sort of games and stuff, but we can’t provide the fancy things you can bring and the whole idea making it a bit of a competition is great. The kids will all love it.”

Once your break was over, you patted his toned thigh. “C’mon Mount, you asked to get to know the other work we do here. You can join me at the food station if you want to?”

You could basically see the way his eyes lit up as his smile grew even wider, making the dimples pop a little deeper.

After you’d brushed him off yesterday, he hadn’t expected to be allowed anywhere near what you usually did, so you suggesting otherwise felt like he’d won the lottery. As much as he liked assisting you with the preparations for the party, the idea of getting to see you doing what you loved so much and doing his bit too, was something else entirely.

Bringing someone new in was always a bit of a risk. You knew how much of an effort it was for people to come here to get cheap or free food for themselves and their families. Many were ashamed and saw themselves as failures and it was your job to make them forget that. A premier league footballer who earned millions of pounds in a year probably wasn’t exactly helpful with that.

But to your surprise, Mason was a natural with people and especially kids: Joking around with them whilst handing out food, talking to all of them and making them all feel welcome and respected. He was one of a kind, a gentle and respectful, polite and empathetic. He was special and you couldn’t help but smile.

-

The whole week passed rather quickly; too quickly for your liking and you found yourself being sad the second you had to say goodbye. You and Mason had grown close over the last couple of days, and you’d realised that you not only worked well together but would also make great friends.

“I know we didn’t start off as the best of friends, but I think we’ve made it work.”, you laughed as it was time for him to leave and Mason nodded.

“Yeah, I like you a little more now.”, he chuckled as he nudged your shoulder gently.

“Seriously though, thank you for helping Mase. You’ve done a lot and I know all the kids will love the tournament. You’ve been great with all of them, and I know you probably won’t be able to make it, but you’re of course invited for the party tomorrow.”

Mason smiled at you softly. “I’ll see what I can do, y/n. Thank you for having me and letting me be part of this amazing team. I genuinely enjoyed being here.”

“Take care Mase. Get home safely.”

“I will.” He leaned down and to your utter surprise pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, making you blush deeply before pulling you into a hug. “See you around.”

-

The party had started about an hour ago and so far, everyone was enjoying it. You were mingling with the crowd as you tried to speak to as many as possible, but your eyes kept wandering over to the entrance door, hoping he’d show up.

It was difficult for him, you knew that. From what you’d understood training had re-started today after the small break they’d had and you didn’t think he’d actually have time to come, but the tiny bit of hope inside of you was relentless and kept you on your toes.

“I hate to interrupt.”, David smiled apologizingly at Liza you were just talking to. “I need to steal her for a moment.”  

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, no, everything’s fine. I just need you for something real quick.” David didn’t say any more than that as he pulled you away from the crowd and into the office section of the building. “It’s a bit of a surprise.”

He steered you towards the end of the hallway and when you eventually entered one, you were met with three young men. You furrowed your brows at David, wondering why he would present you three people you’d never seen before as a surprise.

“Right, I forgot you have no clue.”, he laughed. “This is Marcus Rashford, Luke Shaw and Lisandro Martinez. They all play for United.”

United players? What the hell?

“Hi, it’s very nice to meet you.” The first one, Marcus apparently, held his hand out for you to shake. “Mase has told us lots about you and this organisation and since we had time and love what you’re doing here, we thought we’d stop by after training.”

It wasn’t typical for you, but you were actually speechless as you shook the other’s hands as well. Mason had spoken to his teammates about the charity and you? But as happy as it made you, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that his teammates had made it, whilst he hadn’t.

“Wow…erm…well thank you for coming.”, you stuttered, sending them all a grateful smile. “The tournament will start in about 10 minutes so if you want to see everything, I can show you around a little.”

“Oh, I’ll do that. They brought some paperwork you will have to look through. It’s about the prizes.” David didn’t give you any chance to protest as he took the three players with him, leaving you on your own with the paperwork.

“Prizes?”, you mumbled as you skimmed the papers in front of you. ��What prizes?”

You flinched as hands came to rest on your shoulders and a quick kiss was pressed to your cheek. “Well, what’s a competition without a prize, hm?” His voice was deep and very close to your ear, his lips just about brushing against it as he spoke, and it sent chills down your back.

“Mase? What the fuck?” Turning your head, you smiled brightly, eyes locking on his warm ones and the way he was so close nearly cost you your composure. “You really came.”

“Did you actually think I’d miss this?”, he laughed. “C’mon give me a hug you muppet.”

In the blink of an eye, you were up from your seat and fell straight into his arms, head smushed into his chest as your arms wrapped around his waist. Mason’s heart skipped a beat at the close proximity and your scent filling his nose. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he’d missed you.

He squeezed your smaller body tightly, causing you to chuckle and eventually pull away.

“I can’t believe you actually came and brought teammates. You could’ve told me.” Lightly, you hit his chest in jest, shaking your head.

“Well, that would’ve been too boring.”, he shrugged. “Also until around lunchtime I wasn’t even sure we would make it cause the gaffer kept sending us on new rounds around the pitch.”

Mason grabbed the papers from the table. “And now about the prizes. You’ll find I’ve not only spoken to Luke, Rashy and Licha, but also to our manager. Him and I, we’ve convinced the club of inviting all the kids for a tour at Carrington. Well, the kids and the staff obviously.”

You gasped at that, not believing any of what he was saying, but Mason simply smiled.

“Some of us will be there too. The kids will get to play a bit of football with us, ask all the questions they want and then will also get to see Old Trafford.”

“Mase, no that’s too much, seriously, we can’t-“ But he didn’t let you finish, simply shutting you up by pressing his finger to your lips.

“That’s not all. At the moment it’s still a maybe cause I’m waiting for the final confirmation, but I’m trying to get them tickets to watch a game this season. And I promise you, no media at all. Not at Carrington, not at Old Trafford and it won’t be mentioned for the game either.”

You had to try hard to keep your tears at bay, but you were sure he could see how your eyes had welled up as he cupped your cheek with his warm hand.

“No, Mase we can’t-“

“But you can, y/n.”, he interrupted you again, tilting your head back a little so he could catch your eyes. “Please.”

The second he dropped his bottom lip, you knew you were a goner. No one would ever be able to say no to those big brown puppy eyes and that adorable pout of his.

“Mason, that’s…wow…I don’t really know what to say. They will love you so much for it.”

“I don’t want to be mentioned anywhere. This will come from the foundation, not from me.”, he kissed your forehead gently. “All of you here do so much for the kids and it’s so obvious just how much it means to you. You are the heroes and I know all the parents and adults know that already, but with this you could be the heroes for the kids too.”

As a tear dropped from your eye, Mason was quick to catch it with his thumb. “After I got to see your space here, I can’t wait for you to see mine. Okay?”

“Okay.”, you whispered, completely overwhelmed by the emotions shooting through you. “You’re insane, Mason Mount.”

With the exception of the small tournament, where he ran through the disciplines with his teammates and the kids, Mason spent the entire day by your side. His hand kept sneaking on the small of your back or the back of your chair, always searching for some physical contact and whilst you normally weren’t too much into it, you actually enjoyed it.

And just like the whole week, the afternoon passed way too quickly and sooner than you wished, it was time for them all to leave.

“Thank you so much for being here today. You’ve made those kids’ days. They won’t shut up about this for the next weeks, if not months. Also please send the biggest thanks to the club for making it all possible.”

“We will. Thank you for everything you’re doing here. It’s such an important look and I know it gets overlooked a lot, so we’re happy to support you in any way.”, Marcus smiled.

Once they’d bid their goodbyes, it was only you and Mason left. The latter seemed to be a little nervous as he kept playing with the hem of his shirt.

“I really liked working here.”, he admitted. “Do you think I could come back?”

“I think I speak for everyone here when I say you’re welcome to come back anytime.”, you nodded, watching as a bright smile spread over his features.

“That’s good to know.”, he grinned. “There’s something else I wanted to ask, though.”

You watched a deep blush tainting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“You know, I really enjoyed working with you and erm…well…you can totally say no, that’s okay…I was just wondering if maybe erm you’d like to go out with me? Like…on a date?”

For a moment, you only stared at him. At a loss for words as you most definitely hadn’t expected him to ask you out. Not Mason out of all people.

“I’d like that a lot.”, you whispered shyly, your cheeks now a deep red too.

*

Due to his hectic schedule, it had taken two weeks for you to finally go on that first date. He’d decided to keep it lowkey and booked a table in a small, Italian restaurant where he knew they had small, secluded spaces, so you could enjoy a bit of privacy.

He’d also told you about the article and what had really happened in the bar that night. That those guys had harassed him all night long up to a point where they’d pushed him and he’d simply defended himself.

For the second one, he’d taken you to the cinema, where you’d cuddled in the furthest corner, away from prying eyes whilst enjoying Barbie and now about four weeks after you’d first met, your third date was just about to end.

Mason had invited you over to his. He’d made his favourite pasta dish and whilst you’d already loved your first two dates, this one was different. You both were a bit more carefree and less observant as without any people around, you could be yourselves and as touchy with each other as you’d liked.

After dinner, Mason had convinced you to stay a little longer. He’d pulled you into his side on the sofa and put some random film on to prolong the little time he had with you, but now it was late, and you found yourself in the hall putting your jacket on, dreading to leave him.

“When will I see you again?”, he pouted, feeling a little sad that he had to let you go so soon.

You shrugged. “You have an away game this weekend, why don’t you message me once you’re back and I’ll come over after work? I could bring some take-away.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I really liked today, Mase.”, you mumbled. “I liked the other two as well, but today felt…”

“Special?”, he offered, hoping you’d feel the same and when you nodded, he sighed in relief. “Text me when you’re home, yeah?”

“Will do. Good night, Mase.”

Mason smiled and leaned in just like he always did. You felt his lips brushing your cheek and pressing a proper kiss to your skin and whilst he’d done that countless of times already, it never failed to make you feel all giddy. His hot breath fanned over your face as he pulled away a little, leaving nothing but an inch between you and all of sudden, the atmosphere changed.

There was this tension, you’d never felt before, as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips, making you feel all weird and fuzzy inside. The way his lips hovered over yours for what felt like an eternity had your heart beating out of your chest and when he brushed his nose against yours, your knees went weak.

“I really want to kiss you, y/n.”

You didn’t know who went for it first, but only seconds after his admission, your lips met in an innocent and shy first kiss that had your tummy erupting in butterflies.

Mason could feel his heart hammering in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist softly, his shaking hands just about making contact with your body. His thoughts were consumed by you and your taste, by the way you felt against him and how the kiss felt it was the most perfect one he’d ever had.

And he never wanted it to end, but when he eventually ran out of breath, he pulled away slowly, eyes still closed as he wanted to savour the feeling. You had to take a couple of shaky breaths, your fingertips brushing over his arms causing goosebumps to erupt on his skin and the thought of having such an effect on him, had your tummy flipping again.

Mason smiled sweetly the second he opened his eyes and locked them on yours. Foreheads touching, you kept close to one another as neither of you wanted to let go yet.

“Good night, y/n.”, he whispered before kissing your cheek again, just like he always did when saying goodbye, but this time you felt like it wasn’t enough. Not after the mind-blowing kiss you’d just shared.

And it was as if Mason felt the same as he only shook his head and dipped down to kiss you again. A little firmer this time, more passionate and like he really meant it.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi suzu!! I’m so glad you feel better 😭😭

Diving into your requests bc the way you wrote the Diluc virginity fic was SO GOOD and I was wondering if you’d be down to do one for wanderer too 👀👀 LOVE AND APPRECIATE U ALWAYS - ww after dark

Wanderer x Virgin!fem!reader. Smut. Some slight degradation. Cunilligus. Soft smut at first.

Hello, dear ❤️ I wrote this extra love and affection. Thanks so much for all your support. I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy. I will write for you anytime.

Wanderer's hands were gentle on your body, his fingers brushing featherlight between your thighs before he gently caressed them. You shivered, goosebumps raising on your skin.

He smirked up at you with approval as he nudged his nose against your clit, swirling his tongue slowly around the swelling nub. If he had it his way, and he would because he always got what he wanted, you would always shiver from his touches.

Especially tonight.

It was your first time. Wanderer couldn't have pinned you down onto the bed fast enough when you said you were ready. That you wanted, no, you needed him. All of him.

Of course he had waited patiently for you to say you were ready. Consent was important to him, which was a given considering he had gotten little chance to consent to anything in the past.

It was taking everything he had not to totally dominate you right where you lay. What could he say, he was a selfish guy. But he knew he could be overwhelming, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Your back arched off the bed, whimpering in a way that was starting to drive him crazy as you pushed his face down onto your cunt. "Please, Scara," You squirmed underneath him, bucking your hips into his mouth.

Wanderer laughed softly into your cunt. "Already begging for me. What a whore," He sighed in bliss, sucking on your clit. It took him a moment to realize what he had done.

He froze, looking up at you, hoping that he hadn't just blown all of this straight to hell. He wouldn't blame you in the slightest if you pushed him away right now.

Instead, he was delighted by your reaction. You looked down at him with flushed cheeks. "Do that again," You said, making a pleasant shiver dance up his spine.

"Hmm?" Wanderer purred, vibrating it on your clit before giving it a few appreciative suckes. "You like being called a whore?" He didn't think his smirk could've gotten any wider.

He'd always known you were one in a million. A rare find. And this only proved it even more.

You cried out, tugging on his hair, grinding needily into his mouth. "Y-yes, if it's you calling me that."

Wanderer laughed softly, his fingers spider walking up your thighs to your hips, gripping them a little tighter as he held your cunt against his mouth. "What a whore," He enjoyed the way your cheeks flushed darker, whimpering when your walls clamped empty around nothing.

He swirled his tongue between your walls, wanting to hear you cry out louder for him before he sat up and wiped his mouth. Crawling up your body, he lined his leaking, hard cock up with your entrance.

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he looked down at you checking to see if it was okay. You nodded, hooking a leg over his hip to urge the head up of his cock inside of you.

"Fuck me, Scara," You pleaded. He moaned huskily, reaching down to rub your clit as he pushed himself slowly inside of you. You wrapped your arms around him, your body tensing in pain for a few moments before you relaxed.

His cock throbbed with anticipation, waiting patiently for you to adjust. You wrapped one leg around him, rolling your hips up to let him know you were okay.

Wanderer's thrusts were slow, and gentle, gradually kissing your sweet spot in a way that made your head spin as you writhed beneath him. You clung to him, cry out louder and louder for him with each thrust.

"Scara, Scara, Scara," You chanted his name like a mantra, the knot of your orgasm starting to tighten, threatening to burst. "Harder, please. Faster," You were babbling by this point.

Archons, you've never looked sexier to him than you did right now (you had, plenty of times but he was getting swept up in the moment). His hips suddenly snapped into yours, his hold on your hip turning possessive.

Wanderer hissed in pleasure, his body quivering when you walls clamped consistently around his cock. Hearing you start to choke back sobs of pleasure, he knew you were close.

And so was he.

He reached down to rub your clit to user in your orgasm faster. He wanted to hear you scream in pleasure for him when you cummed hard on his cock. But he needed to know one important thing first.

"Can I cum inside of you?" He groaned, feeling his cock throb with impending release.

"Mmm-ah-please!" You cried out, bucking your hips needily, no desperately up into his, "cum inside of me."

Your words sent him reeling, his hips snapping almost mindlessly into yours as he leaned down to capture your lips in a passionate, open mouthed kiss.

Your scream of pleasure against his mouth never sounded sweeter, your body convulsing slightly as the knot of your orgasm snapped apart, sending your release to gush over his cock.

His fingers never left your clit, nursing you through your orgasm until his cum painted your walls for the first time. You felt your cheeks heat when some of his cum leaked out onto your thighs.

His teeth nipped at your lower lip. "You look so cute when you are intimately embarrassed," He teased, his hips slowing to a stop when your walls no longer fluttered around his cock.

You put your a hand on his cheek, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. "Please tell me we aren't done," You gazed up at him expectedly, your eyes hazy and cloudy in a fucked out expression that was breathtaking to him.

Wanderer wasted no time thrusting his cock back inside of you, especially when you said, "Don't hesitate to be a little rougher with me."

[uriekukistan]

since its thanksgiving here, i wanted to say im super grateful for all those who’ve read, supported, and encouraged my writing <33

when i started posting my fics, i wasnt sure anyone would want to read it TT_TT but i continue to be blown away by the response to my work, and i doubt i would have kept writing this long if not for the sweet comments i’ve received and the lovely people i’ve met along the way. ofc i love to create for the sake of creating, but the feedback means the world to mean and keeps me inspired every day.

i feel like i’ve grown so much over the past few months, and it’s all thanks to yall <33 i hope i’ll be able to keep growing. i’ve got some things cooking that i’m really proud of and really excited to share!! and i’ve started working on some original writing for the first time in yearssss and im just so hdkdkfkekkd

anyway beyond grateful for all of you <3333

[tinypandacakes]

I wanted to say thank you for all the sweet words about my surgery/recovery! I was blown away by all the kind messages I received 🥹 I am feeling very loved and supported right now 💕

It might go without saying but I am just putting it out there so I don’t get a bunch of asks tomorrow — but I will not be updating any fic this weekend. It’s been nice to focus on myself and relax and not be constantly moving from one thing to the next🐇

hopefully next week I’ll get back on track, if I’m feeling up to it~

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Christmas Kindness Letter: (hope I'm doing this right)

To Dandylovesturtles,

Where do I start? I have so much I could praise you on. I have read pretty much all of your Rise fics, and you’ve written several favourites that I continue to return to. I particularly love Sharing Ice Cream, and Other Dad Things, Tapping Out, and I May Be Invisible, But I Still Look Good— God, I could praise that last one ALL. FREAKING. DAY. I’ve read through the whole thing… what, twice? But have also come back to read particular parts and scenes. I was absolutely blown away by it. I laughed, I almost cried, and I felt so much on the first read and the re-read, and I WILL be reading Leo’s journey again— it’s so funny, how Donnie is also your favourite and you targeted Leo. Judging by the existence of Say Something True and Emotional Support Water Bottles (hilarious name, by the way), you seem to like going after Leo quite a bit (I did also read Corrupted Upgrade, so I did not forget about that one, either, another great fic!)

I won’t lie. To me, I May Be Invisible is the unofficial sequel to the Rise movie— with it calling back to lessons that should be learned (particularly the “next time you think of doing something dangerous, stop and look for us first”), how the fan-created lore fits in perfectly with what’s already canon, and how you write the characters— which I CANNOT praise enough. It feels like you yoinked them straight out of the show. It’s absolutely incredible, how intimately you seem to understand them, and how you captured their voices so perfectly. I hope to one day have that ability myself.

But so they aren’t left out, a few words on the the other fics I mentioned! Sharing Ice Cream is such a cute little story that honestly tackles Donnie’s insecurities so well— and I LOVE how you wrote Splinter. He felt so in-character, and I HEARD his voice in some of the lines you wrote (especially with him talking to the door, that was amazing!). It’s so sweet!

Tapping Out? That’s definitely influenced how I view Donnie and Leo’s relationship— especially the part about them being equals. Neither is older or younger. They’re just brothers, and that’s all. The point of twins are for them to be the same age. Not to mention, their SYSTEM is SO SWEET. It’s cute how it was created for Donnie, probably because of his disability, but eventually came in clutch for Leo, too!

And Corrupted Upgrade, since I brought that up? The first part HURTS bad (that was the first fic I read where the brothers were actually cruel to each other, and it made me realise just how important their love for each other is to me) Donnie makes an excellent super villain, in that. I’d say he enjoys it too much, but it’s all an attempt to get his family’s attention and make him miss him. Which is sad… anger born of pain— an interesting route, too, since it’s probably super easy (and tempting) to write him spiraling emotionally. An interesting twist on the story!

There’s a ton, ton more that I could say, but I don’t have the words (nor the patience) to type a college-worthy essay. I certainly hope you get the point, and I look forward to whatever you have in store for us, next! You are truly one of the greats, in my opinion. I wish to be like you, one day, in terms of ability.

I’m eager to see what you share next! Have a great Christmas (if you celebrate).

@dandylovesturtles

Christmas Kindness Event Post