#like… I moved on too quickly from this hair

[littlelamy]

Teach Me

nerd!rafe x experienced!reader

Rafe Cameron wasn’t usually this quiet.

He wasn’t the loudest guy by any means, but his nervous energy tonight was new. Usually, his shyness came with a sort of clumsy charm, a stammered compliment or a soft laugh that always made your heart ache in the best way. But as he sat stiffly on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he looked like he might bolt at any moment.

“Rafey,” you said softly, stepping closer and leaning into his line of sight. “You okay?”

His head snapped up, blue eyes wide behind the smudge on his glasses. He pushed them up his nose, his hand shaking slightly, and dropped his gaze back to his lap. His long fingers twisted together, pale from how tightly he was holding them.

“Y-yeah,” he mumbled, though his voice betrayed him with its unsteady wobble.

Your lips curved into a soft smile as you reached out, fingertips brushing his jawline. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

Rafe swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, but didn’t meet your gaze. “I just… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.” You perched beside him on the bed, close enough that your knees bumped. “I’m listening.”

His lips parted, then closed again, as though the words were stuck in his throat. Finally, he managed, “I want to… I mean, I need to… be better for you. Better at, um, pleasing you.”

Your chest tightened at his vulnerable confession. “Rafe, you’re already amazing. You don’t have to—”

“No.” His voice came out firm, but he winced at his own abruptness. “I mean, thank you. But I want to do more for you. I want to know how to… touch you the way you deserve.”

The raw sincerity in his words made your heart swell. His cheeks were stained with a deep blush, and he looked like he was fighting every instinct to hide his face in his hands.

“You’re so sweet,” you whispered, lacing your fingers through his and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We can take our time, baby. I’ll show you everything you want to know.”

Rafe relaxed slightly as you guided him to sit cross-legged on the bed. His hoodie lay discarded nearby, and his glasses perched crookedly on his nose, slightly fogged from the heat in the room.

“First thing,” you said, settling in front of him, “is to pay attention. My body will tell you when something feels good—whether it’s my breathing, the way I move, or the sounds I make.”

His eyes widened, and he nodded quickly, his gaze flickering nervously between your face and your body.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I can do that.”

You reached for his hand, gently placing it on your thigh. “Start here. Gentle touches, nothing rushed. Feel how warm my skin is? That’s a good sign.”

Rafe’s fingers were warm and hesitant, but they began to explore as you encouraged him. He let his hand glide up slowly, his breath hitching when his fingertips grazed the hem of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. “That’s perfect.”

As his touch grew more assured, his fingers dipped under the fabric, skimming the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The softness of his movements contrasted with the heat pooling in your stomach, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips.

“Like that?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched your face for affirmation.

“Exactly like that,” you murmured, your voice catching.

You shifted back against the pillows, tugging him down beside you. “Now, from here, you can explore more. Don’t overthink it. Use your hands, your mouth—just do what feels natural.”

Rafe’s blush deepened, but he nodded. His hand skimmed up your stomach, pausing when he reached the curve of your hip. His fingers trembled slightly, but the reverence in his touch sent a shiver through you.

When his lips brushed your collarbone, warm and tentative, you let out a soft moan. His head snapped up, panic flashing in his eyes.

“Was that too much?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You cupped his cheek, pulling him back down for a kiss. “Not at all. That was perfect. Keep going, Rafey.”

Encouraged, he pressed his lips to your skin again, lingering this time. His kisses grew bolder, trailing down to the swell of your chest. His hands followed, brushing over you with featherlight touches that left your skin tingling.

“See how my body reacts?” you whispered, your breath hitching as his hand grazed a particularly sensitive spot. “That’s what I mean by listening.”

Rafe’s lips quirked into a shy smile, and he leaned into your touch with newfound confidence.

Rafe’s hand hesitated at the waistband of your panties, his fingertips brushing the soft fabric with a touch so light it sent a shiver up your spine. His wide blue eyes searched yours, filled with nervous anticipation, his lips slightly parted as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to take the next step.

“Can I?” His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling but threaded with yearning.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice soft but certain.

His exhale was shaky as he focused his attention fully on you, his hand dipping beneath the fabric with deliberate slowness. The first brush of his fingers against your bare skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath catching audibly. His touch was tentative, his movements almost reverent, as though he couldn’t believe you were letting him do this.

“Rafey,” you murmured, your voice a mix of encouragement and need.

His fingers explored with unsteady care, tracing the slickness pooling there. His thumb brushed experimentally against your clit, and your body responded instantly, arching slightly under his touch. The sensation was almost too much yet not nearly enough, a delicious pressure that made you gasp softly.

“Is that good?” he asked, his brows furrowing in concentration as he watched your reaction.

“So good,” you managed, your voice a little breathless. “Keep going, just like that.”

The reassurance made his shoulders relax, and his movements grew bolder. His thumb pressed more firmly, circling that swollen bundle of nerves with a rhythm that made your thighs clench instinctively around his hand. The quiet whimper that slipped from your lips seemed to spur him on, his other hand coming to rest on your hip to steady you as his fingers moved with growing confidence.

Your body was alive under his touch, every nerve alight as he adjusted his movements, clearly paying attention to how you squirmed and sighed beneath him. The hesitancy from earlier was melting away, replaced by a kind of focused eagerness that made your chest tighten with affection.

“That feels good,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his messy hair. “You’re doing so good, Rafe.”

His lips curved into the smallest, shyest smile, but his fingers didn’t falter. He leaned down then, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing lower with every press of his lips. His hair tickled against your skin, the sensation adding to the whirlwind of pleasure building inside you.

When his kisses reached the hollow of your throat, you tilted your head back, giving him better access. He took it eagerly, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. The combination of his mouth and his hand working together was intoxicating, a steady rhythm that had you biting your lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.

“You like that?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and velvety. The rare confidence in his tone sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and you couldn’t help but nod, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.

“I love it,” you whispered, your voice trembling with pure pleasure.

His movements stilled for a moment as he shifted, his glasses slightly askew as he glanced up at you. “I… Can I try something else?” he asked, his voice softer now, more uncertain.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, your heart racing as his hands gently eased your panties down your legs.

Rafe paused, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you fully. His cheeks flushed a deep pink, but his gaze was captivated, reverent. Slowly, he settled himself lower, his shoulders nestled between your thighs.

“You don’t have to—” you started, but the determined look in his eyes stopped you.

“I want to,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The first press of his lips to your inner thigh was soft, almost hesitant. He lingered there, kissing a trail upward, his breath warm against your skin. Each kiss was tender, deliberate, until he was just where you wanted him most.

His lips brushed against you then, soft and unhurried, and the sensation sent a gasp tumbling from your lips. He hesitated, his blue eyes flicking up to yours for reassurance, and when he saw the way your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time.

The wet warmth of his mouth and the softness of his tongue as he tentatively explored made your entire body tense with pleasure. He was careful, almost shy, but each touch carried a sincerity that left you breathless.

“Rafey,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.

The sound of his name on your lips seemed to embolden him. His hands gripped your thighs gently, pulling you closer as he deepened his movements, his tongue finding the rhythm that made you gasp and arch beneath him. Every flick, every press, was deliberate, his sole focus on making you fall apart under his care.

“Is this… okay?” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against you.

“Perfect,” you managed, your voice breaking on the word. “Don’t stop.”

And he didn’t.

Rafe’s mouth was insistent now, his shyness giving way to a careful confidence as he listened to every sound you made, adjusting his movements to match the reactions he drew from you. Your hands found his hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the overwhelming sensations he was giving you.

Every kiss, every caress, was a revelation—an unspoken promise that he was there to learn every inch of you, to cherish you completely. The pleasure built steadily, an intoxicating crescendo that left you breathless, your thighs trembling as he found just the right rhythm with his mouth. His lips latched around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking softly at first, then with increasing determination as your whimpers turned into desperate cries of his name.

“Rafey,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as your hips pressed up against him, unable to control the way your body chased the peak he was bringing you toward.

His hands gripped your thighs firmly but gently, holding you in place as he gave it one last, deliberate suck. The sensation sent you spiraling, your body arching as the climax washed over you in waves, leaving you shaking and completely at his mercy. Your breath hitched, the room filled with the sound of your soft cries and his satisfied hum against you.

When the intensity finally began to drop, Rafe eased his touch, his mouth leaving a final tender kiss against your skin before he pulled away. His lips were parted, his breathing ragged, and his face was flushed with both pride and nervousness. His lips and chin glistened, a mix of his efforts and your release, and the sight alone sent another shiver through you.

He climbed back up the bed, his gaze locked on yours as if silently asking for reassurance. Leaning over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, he pressed his lips to yours in a tentative kiss. The taste of yourself lingered on his lips, and the sound he made—low, guttural, and almost shy—vibrated against your mouth.

“Did I… Was that okay?” he asked softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability. His blue eyes searched yours, his glasses slightly askew, and his lips glistening as he hovered just inches from you.

Your heart swelled at the nervousness in his voice, and instead of answering right away, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was deep, lingering, your fingers threading through his hair to pull him even closer. When you finally broke away, his lips were even more swollen, and his breath mingled with yours.

“You did amazing, sweetie,” you whispered, your voice full of affection and awe.

The words flooded him with relief, his shoulders relaxing as a shy yet proud smile tugged at the corners of his damp lips. Unable to resist, you reached up to wipe your arousal from his chin, your thumb grazing his flushed skin before leaning in to kiss him again.

Rafe melted into you, his earlier hesitation completely gone, replaced by a quiet confidence that had your heart racing all over again. And as he buried his face in your neck, his breath warm and shaky against your skin, you knew this was just the beginning of something even more beautiful between you.

a/n: last post of the day🥵

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[c0n-fus3d]

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚢.

(Older!Powder x fem!reader)

I'm sorry but I finished ep 1 of act 3 and had to write this to get my emotions out about ekko and powder being a thing in an alternative reality bcz just RAHHHFHSHEHSHHS my gay ass is crying (no offense to the timebomb shippers, you do you!! If you like this that's cool💪💪) ENGLISH ISN'T MY NATIVE LANGUAGE, IF I MADE SOME SPELLING MISTAKES I'M SORRY ALSO SPOILERS FOR ACT 3!!

Warnings: uhhh just angst, mostly angst, this is for my girlies who might be feeling the same

༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༺ღ༒ ༒ღ༻

You've always liked Powder, every since you were kids, and still when you are teenagers.

Their was always something about her. The way she made the most creative inventions, the way she always seemed to have some sort of spark in her eyes. Her laugh, her hair, her eyes, it's hard for you to explain the feelings you have towards her.

You knew the way Vi's death was heavy on her, you could see that with the days, and soon years that came after. You we're always trying to be there to support her, make her feel a little better. You gave her space when she needed it, and we're there for her when she needed you the most.

And then there was Ekko.

You never hated Ekko, you 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 hate Ekko. he was a good guy, you got along with him. He was around Powder nearly just as much as you we're, maybe even a little more. When you were around Powder, he wouldn't take long to show up as well. You didn't mind.

But you couldn't deny that you we're jealous of him, of Ekko. The way he charmed his way into Powder's heart over the years. With his sketches, ideas, personality, kindness and understanding. You wanted what him and Powder had as if what you already had wasn't enough for you. You could see the way she looked at him, how 𝙝𝙚 looked at her the same way.

You often wished it was you instead of him. You try to forget about your jealousy, push it asside. You try to push your jealousy and selfishness asside, keep everything natural between you three. But it got harder and harder the more time went on.

Ekko has been acting strange recently, or at least that's what Powder told you. How he 'seems not to remember anything' and how he says these things about how in a dream her and Vi we're completely different. You noticed yourself too, how he was more around then usual. You assumed it was because of his project or whatever.

Now you find yourself here, on the dance floor in the last drop. Inventions around you everywhere as music and colorful lights fill the bar. You look into the crowd, trying to spot Powder. It took you a whole 5 minutes to finally spot her, but to no suprise, Ekko was there. On the dance floor, with her. Dancing together to the beat of the music like it was just the two of them. You tried to move your eyes away from the sight, let them be happy and together. But the jealousy ate you from the inside out, this all just left a bitter taste on your tongue. It all got so overwhelming so quickly, so you decide to leave the place before you explode and do something stupid.

So you decide to go out to Powder's little Hideout for now and go back once you've cooled down. You look at the massive invention across the room, stunned as fuck how they made this. You don't want to pay too much attention to it though, so you continue walking through the massive space before sitting down in front of the small memorial that Powder made for Vi.

You lighten the place up before just.. Sitting there. You sigh, looking at the picture sat on the desk. Vi always knew you had a thing for Powder, she always encouraged you to tell her how you felt. Whenever the situation was on your mind, you'd go here. You'd talk, like she was still there. Because to you, she was. To everyone, she still was. Now wasn't any different, you talked about what has been going on recently. With Ekko, Powder, and everything else.

"I just.. Don't know what to do, I know I'm supposed to be happy for them.. Ekko is a great guy, a-and if they become a thing, I'll be fine with it but.. Theirs this voice in the back of my mind that just doesn't seem to go away.." You groan, your head in your hands as you thought for a moment.

You knew you couldn't hide your feelings forever. If Powder wasn't going to feel the same way towards you, you might as well tell her what you've been feeling all this time. Just for an answer, a yes or a no. Anything. If she didn't feel anything as well then at least she'd know.

"I'll tell her, tonight. Like you always wanted me to do.. I'll.. I'll get this over with, okay? For you."

You found yourself walking back towards the last drop, but then you see Powder, going in the direction of what you knew to be the place where Vi always took her to. So you decided to follow.

If only you weren't blind enough to see Ekko walking along with her.

You climbed up to the place, heart racing in your chest as you tried to think about the things you could say. Your mind was running a million miles and you tried desperately to calm your nerves.

You we're finally gonna do it, you we're gonna tell her how you feel.

But just as you nearly reach the top, you see her. And Ekko.

Their kissing.

In front of your eyes.

Your heart dropped, hope that you knew was useless in the end shattered as you saw the image.

Wrong fucking timing. You stood there, frozen in time before quickly getting out of there. Trying to hold back the tears that we're threatening to fall.

She likes Ekko. She only likes Ekko. It was never you. Not in childhood, not in teenage years.

She likes a boy. That boy.

Your not that boy, and for now, you had to live with that.

You we're never going to being the one kissing her. It was always going to be him in the end.

[yanderestarangel]

★ ! hidden desires — stalker!bruce wayne x male reader

a/n: This is a repost! The first post has been taken down ( by tumblr itself lol); sorry and thanks for letting me know.

♡⁠┊tw: stalking, suggestive behavior, fingering, casual sex, v! sex, ftm reader, sex with a condom, afab anatomy, blowjob.

Each time he remembered what he had done—stalking you for weeks from the shadows like the nocturnal creature he was—a strange sense of shame settled in his chest. He used his shadowy vigilante persona to justify his unhealthy obsession, but even that excuse felt hollow.

He kept insisting to himself, "It's just for his safety." However, the heat in his groin wouldn't let him pretend otherwise — standing in the rain and cold nights by the window in the building above your house... But lying and manipulating to get into your life and home was not something he usually did.

That night, you'd gone out to the club. People were whispering about a new drug called "Bliss" and some underworld drama involving Sofia Falcone, while the red lights of the club mixed with your carefree expression, oblivious to Gotham's lurking dangers.

Wayne, however, was watching you as always—from afar, waiting for the right moment to act.

He wasn’t oblivious; his glances at a few attractive men at the party hadn’t escaped the dark gaze of the guard’s blue irises. He knew his obsession with you had gone too far, yet he ignored the rational alarms ringing in his mind—and started toward you.

It hadn’t been very difficult for him to get into his pants and into his home, and, to be honest, he didn’t know whether to feel angry or surprised. Perhaps it was a bittersweet mixture he’d reflect on only after leaving the apartment, since, after all, his blood wasn’t exactly rushing to his head.

You whispered a question, asking his name, but his hands were too focused on exploring your body.

"Bruce," he growled, finally breaking the silence. "My name is Bruce." The words came out more tense than he’d anticipated, and he silently prayed you wouldn’t ask anything else—or recognize him as one of Gotham’s elusive big shots.

Bruce’s fingers pressed deeper into your warm, slick heat, curling just right against that sensitive spot that made you see stars. He felt you tighten around him, your body responding to every stroke. With an added finger, he stretched you gently, preparing you for more. His thumb found your clit, drawing tight, deliberate circles as he drove you closer to the edge with relentless precision.

Bruce murmured, "So tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me," his voice thick with desire. His mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hard, while his fingers continued their steady rhythm inside you. He felt the tremors in your body, heard your breathy moans, each sound and movement pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your flesh. "Come on my fingers like a good boy."

And you did, your walls clenching around him as you cried out in pleasure. Bruce guided you through it, prolonging your orgasm and drawing every last drop of ecstasy from your quivering form.

When you finally collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting, Wayne withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips. He licked them clean, savoring your taste and scent. It was so sweet and erotic that he felt his cock throb, and all the rationality and chivalry that defined his persona went out the window.

Quickly, the rest of your clothes were removed, and the man with black eye shadow sat on your bed, spreading his thighs and inviting you to suck his cock — a command you immediately obeyed. The sight of you on your knees, your plump lips stretched around his shaft, was almost too much for him.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head as you moved up and down, taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, his hips rocking forward to meet your eager tongue. "Just like that, atta boy... Take it all."

He could feel you gagging around him, could hear the wet, obscene sounds of your slurping and sucking. It was music to his ears—a symphony of pleasure that nearly undid him. His other hand found your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he pulled you closer, pressing his cock deeper down your throat. He could feel you struggling to breathe, could see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but he didn't relent.

"Look at me... I want to see your eyes when you choke on my cock."

He commanded, holding your gaze as you struggled to comply, your eyes watering as you fought for air. But you didn’t pull away or tap out; instead, you leaned in, taking him even deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis. He was so close to climax, but he held back, wanting to savor this intense connection, feeling your body fully aligned with his.

"No fuck... not yet..." He grunted hoarsely taking his mouth off his cock as he shook trying to hold back his orgasm. "On your hands and knees, now." He ran his hands over your smooth skin, caressing your curves, your softness, a stark contrast to his own hard planes. He was prepared that night, carrying a condom in his jacket pocket, even though he thought the chances of him touching you were zero... Well, apparently not. He positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

With a slow thrust, he pushed forward, breaking your tight heat. He groaned at the sensation, at the way your walls clenched around him, trying to draw him deeper. He watched his cock disappear inside you, your tight heat enveloping him completely. He could feel every twitch, every pulse of your walls around him, could see the way your body yielded to his, taking him deeper and deeper.

But despite the overwhelming sensations, he remained silent, unsure of how to express the depth of his desire, the intensity of his need. He'd never been good with words, had always been better with actions, with his fists, with his body. You tried to talk to him, however Bruce's hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting of the slap echoing in the room. He watched as you jolted forward, your back arching, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Shh... Don't talk. Just feel." He punctuated his command with another slap, his fingers digging into the reddening flesh of your ass, holding you in place as he drove into you with renewed vigor. Wayne watched as you came undone beneath him, your body shaking, your walls clenching around his cock. He could feel your release coating his shaft, could hear your sweet whimpers filling the room.

And then he was coming too, his orgasm ripping through him like a tidal wave. He buried himself deep inside you, his hips grinding against your ass as he filled the condom with his seed. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck. For a long moment, he simply held you, savoring the feeling of your body against his, the warmth of your skin, the racing of your heart.

He wasn't used to this, to the intimacy, to the vulnerability. He was better at fighting, at brooding, at being alone... Stalking you was a different thing than finally having you, and he felt no shame in having lied. So he pulled out of you, quickly disposing of the condom before rolling off the bed. He stood there for a moment, his back to you, his hands clenched at his sides.

"I...I should go," he mumbled, not quite meeting your eyes. "I have work to do... It was cool..."

He grabbed his clothes, dressing quickly, efficiently. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to bridge the gap between what had just happened and what came next... He was used to being your stalker, but now his brain couldn't function after finally getting what he wanted: you.

But he was sure of something, the feeling became more fixed in his chest... He was more addicted in you.

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | 𝐞.𝐦.

This piece contains brief allusions to smut.

Pairing Eddie Munson x Female Reader [friends -> lovers] 

Summary It’s the morning after your first time with Eddie, and the two of you navigate the quiet intimacy of it all [fluff, 1.4k]. 

A/N This is the third installment to the little friends to lovers universe I created. They all work as standalone fics, but I clearly can’t get enough and keep adding onto their story. 

PART ONE | PART TWO 

∘°∘♡∘°∘

Eddie wakes up alone. It's a reality not unlike every other day of his life. Except, the sheets gathered at his waist aren’t black and no heavy metal posters adorn the walls. Everything is neat and airy and bright, softly screaming of you. The only anomaly in the room is his leather jacket hanging on the back of your desk chair. When he reaches out to run his hand over the empty space on the bed beside him, he’s unsure if it’s warm from your body heat or the pale streaks of sunlight streaming in through the flowy white curtains. 

After rolling onto his back, he stretches his arms with a satisfied groan as his muscles pull. That’s when the sound of your footsteps emerge from the hallway, growing closer and closer. As you push your bedroom door open, you catch him quickly shutting his eyes as if getting caught. The faint smile that pulls on his lips exposes his wakefulness. 

He’d been asleep when you first stirred. After a few minutes of combing through his hair and relishing the steady sound of his breaths, you’d slipped out of bed to check the voicemail box. But not before padding to your dresser to put on some clothes. There was a pleasant ache in the muscles of your thighs as you moved, your whole body alight with the memory of him. 

Last night, you’d been too preoccupied with the dizzying proximity of Eddie hovering over you to answer the phone when it rang. 

As you press the playback button, it comes as no surprise when your dad’s voice crackles to life to bid you goodnight and remind you to make sure the front door is locked. For their own sanity, you call your parents back to apologize and assure them that everything had been okay the previous night. 

Back in your room, the mattress dips as you crawl into bed, forcing Eddie to fight a smile. He continues to feign sleep as you settle beside him with a content sigh. Once you’re tucked beneath the sheets, you place your hand on his chest as if swearing an oath to a truth larger than yourselves. 

The tattoos on his skin are so bold and intricate that you can’t help but trace over them. Your featherlight touch makes him open his eyes and turn his head to look at you, blinking slowly. His hair is roused and his eyes are a little puffy and red from sleep. 

There’s a flutter in your stomach upon noticing the faint lines on his cheek. In the few years of your friendship, you’d never had the pleasure of waking up to each other. The intimacy of it all makes it feel like you're buzzing. 

“Sorry for leaving,” you murmur. “You didn’t feel any of that earlier?” 

“Any of what?” His brows furrow, voice a little rough from sleep. 

Before getting out of bed, you’d kissed him as well. Not once, but three times over his face. Admitting to such a tender thing feels harder than just having done it. 

Instead, you shake your head in a shy dismissal. Not the kind of shyness that’s brutal and consuming, but the type that cradles vulnerability gently. After baring yourselves to each other last night, you suppose there's nothing more to be shy about. It’s just that the way Eddie looks at you makes it seem like you’re worth being figured out. Like it’s worth knowing about all the little things you do. 

Everybody talks about the pain of being overlooked, but few consider how terrifying and wonderful it feels to be seen. 

He’s quiet for a moment, searching your eyes. “Tell me what I missed, angel.” It’d probably be better to show him.

When you scoot closer, he instinctively turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on your hip. The fabric of your pajama shorts is too soft to be straight-up cotton, he thinks to himself. Before he knows it, warmth blooms beneath his skin as you lean in to kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, then the corner of his mouth. 

A hum vibrates in his throat as he runs his hand further down your leg, stopping as his palm reaches the bare skin of your thigh. All of this—your nearness, being kissed, touching you—seems like a luxury that should’ve expired after last night. At the risk of seeming pessimist, he isn’t unaware of how many good things in his life are fleeting. Except this. Except you. What the two have found feels more set in stone than anything else ever has. 

As you pull away, he smiles at you as easily as breathing. 

“How’d you sleep?” he asks. 

“Good. Really good,” you say. 

He begins to stroke your thigh. “Me too. I think you have that effect.” Even now, his body is pleasantly heavy with a bone-deep sense of refreshment. Like he was bearing the weight of being a new person in this morning light with you. 

You open your mouth to say something, but stop yourself. 

“What’s up?” he insists because he somehow catches everything. 

“Nothing,” you huff a weak laugh. “I just feel…” you trail off, and Eddie keeps looking at you with those Bambi eyes. 

His chest shakes with a chuckle when you whine and tuck your face into your pillow. Even though you can’t see it, his gaze turns painfully soft. You peek at him just as he’s reaching out to touch your cheek. 

“You make me nervous.” It’s a quiet admission. “In the best possible way.”

Eddie doesn’t frown or insist you shouldn’t be, he just offers a small smile and strokes his thumb across the apple of your cheek. You press into his touch like you need it to survive. One thing he’ll never get over is how eternally fortunate you make him feel. He’ll spend the rest of his life either relishing the fact that you chose him or forever remembering these small moments. 

Your nerves don’t worry him and neither do his own. It’s how he knew all this meant something. The longer he thinks about it, the more he realizes “nervous” might not even be the right word. Surely, there was another way to describe the feeling of caring about someone and their thoughts so deeply that you didn’t want to risk disrupting a single thing. A care so great it rang true within the innermost parts of you. 

“We should probably get the day started before we end up stuck here,” he says. “I don’t know if you had any plans, but I can go if you want me out of your hair—” 

You take his hand from where he’s still stroking your cheek, and kiss over his knuckles. “Absolutely not,” you say into his skin. 

Eddie waits for you to continue. 

“Will you stay for breakfast?” you ask. “I make really good scrambled eggs.” He’d stay for breakfast even if you couldn’t. 

His eyes sparkle in amusement. “I’ll be the judge of that.” You can’t help the laughter that rises up your throat when he pushes you onto your back and props himself over you. 

Your attempts to stop him from nibbling down your neck are all in vain, and you halfheartedly push at his shoulders as your chest squeezes and flutters. When he pulls away, you’re still hiccuping over your giggles, and you pray you don’t look as silly as you feel. Eddie, however, gazes down at you with the most tender depth in his eyes.

“You’ve got the most killer smile ever, you know that?” he asks. 

You reach up to tuck his hair behind his ears, trying to distract yourself from the warmth rising to your cheeks. 

“Evidently not. It hasn’t killed you.”

With a dramatic inhale, Eddie grips his chest and rolls over to fall onto his back, feigning death. 

You prop your forearms on his chest. “Please don’t die, I need you around.” 

That makes him grin and tap your chin with a gentle knuckle. “Say that again, I didn’t quite hear you.” 

You roll your eyes with a shake of your head. “I need you around, Eddie Munson.” 

He grows a bit more sober. “I think I need you more.” 

You could get used to this feeling of needing and being needed. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see and appreciate them all. 

PART ONE | PART TWO 

MORE

[4linos]

asking skz to tie a ribbon around their bicep

ot8 stray kids x gn!reader

request: Asking the ot8 boys to tie a ribbon around their biceps

wc: 4172 (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

a/n: not proofread 🙂‍↔️.

bang chan

You were at the gym, watching Chan move through his usual routine. His biceps were flexing with each rep, and you couldn't help but appreciate the effort he put into his workout. Your eyes kept drifting back to his muscles, and an idea popped into your head—a mischievous one.

You walked up to him after he finished his set, smiling innocently. “Hey, babe, could you do something for me?”

Chan looked up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his face already breaking into a smile at the sight of you. “Sure, anything. What’s up?”

You leaned in slightly, “Could you tie a ribbon around your bicep for me? Just for fun.”

Chan blinked at you in surprise, then chuckled. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?”

You nodded, your grin widening. “Yeah, just for me. I think it’d look cute. Please?”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, but the smirk on his face said it all—he wasn’t going to say no. “You’re a weirdo, but alright. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

He put the little, decorative ribbon you brought with you around his bicep, making sure it was snug but not too tight. The cheeky sparkle in his eyes caused you to laugh out loud when he turned to face you once more. "You think this is cute enough?" Chan asked, flaunting the ribbon and flexing his arm. "Perfect," you replied, smiling softly as you reached out to gently adjust it. "Everything looks good because of you." He leaned forward and kissed your forehead as his smile softened. "I'll wear a ribbon every day as long as it brings you joy."

You laughed, grateful for how far he’d go to indulge your silly requests.

lee know

On a relaxing afternoon, you and Minho were relaxing at home while you sat cross-legged on the couch and browsed through your phone to the soothing sounds of some music. Minho was at ease as he laid beside you with his arm slung across the back of the couch. You gave him a quick glance as a lighthearted thought occurred to you. You had always liked his biceps, but today you wanted to see them in a completely new way—in a cutesy yet ridiculous way. You quickly placed your phone down and smiled as you turned to face him.

With a hint of mischief in your tone, you said, "Hey, can you do me a favor?" Minho arched an eyebrow, obviously interested but unsure of the direction of this. "What is it?" Reaching over, you placed a little, colorful ribbon you had previously picked up on the side table. It was the perfect size and a gentle pastel tint. Your smile grew as you extended it to him. "Could you tie this around your bicep for me?" Minho looked at you for a time, blinking, as though he was trying to tell if you were kidding. "A ribbon? "Around my arm?" he asked, appearing both genuinely perplexed and amused by the request.

"Yeah," you said, giggling a little. "I think it'd look cute. Just for fun. Please?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You're so random." But his smile grew, and he took the ribbon from you, clearly willing to indulge you. As he looped it around his bicep, you couldn't help but watch as his muscles flexed slightly under the motion, making your heart skip a beat.

Once it was tied, Minho looked at you, flexing his arm with a smirk. “Happy now?”

You leaned forward, pretending to inspect it, your finger gently adjusting the bow. "Absolutely. You look... ridiculously good. Like a gift wrapped just for me."

He rolled his eyes, clearly entertained. "You're weird," he said with a smile, but you could see the fondness in his eyes.

"You know you love it," you teased, reaching over to give his arm a playful squeeze, feeling the strength beneath your fingers.

Minho smiled, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair. “I really do,” he said, clearly amused by how something so simple could make you so happy.

"Good," you said, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re the best, Min. Thanks for letting me make you a walking present."

He laughed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.

changbin

It was a quiet night at home, and you and Changbin were spending time on the couch while the soft glow of the living room lights created a cozy atmosphere. He was leaning back, his muscles flexing slightly with each movement, while you were snuggled up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder, lazily scrolling through your phone. His biceps, which are well-defined and strong because of the amount of work he puts into his workouts, caught your eye as you looked at him absently. You admired his muscularity, but you couldn't get a silly idea out of your head today.

You turned to him, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face. "Hey, Bin," you said, glancing up from your phone.

He looked down at you with an amused expression. "What’s up?"

You hesitated for just a second, then pulled a small ribbon from your pocket, its soft pastel color standing out against the more neutral tones of the room. "Can you do me a favor?"

Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the sudden request. “What kind of favor?”

You held the ribbon out toward him with a teasing grin. “Could you tie this around your bicep for me? Just for fun. I think it’ll look cute.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?” His voice was a mix of confusion and amusement, though you could already tell he wasn’t going to say no.

You nodded, your smile widening. “Yeah, I think it’ll look cute. Just once, please?”

Changbin let out a small laugh, shaking his head at your quirky request but not even hesitating to take the ribbon from your hand. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice. “But okay, for you.”

He gently wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the contrast of the soft fabric against his muscular arm making your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire how even something so simple looked so good on him. Once it was secured, he flexed his arm slightly, looking down at it with a smirk.

"Well?" Changbin asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "How do I look?"

You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement. “You look... ridiculously good,” you said, your voice dripping with affection. “Like some kind of strong, tough guy, but also a little bit of a sweetheart with a ribbon around your arm.”

At your lighthearted remark, he shook his head and laughed. With the ribbon still precisely positioned on his arm, he drew you close to him and added, "I'm glad I can make you happy." You were happy with the small moment as you leaned toward him and put your head against his chest. You smiled to yourself and whispered, "You always do." "You're perfect." Changbin laughed quietly and kissed your forehead.

hyunjin

It was a sunny afternoon, and you and Hyunjin were strolling through a small outdoor market, taking in the sights and smells of the various stalls. You were looking at the colorful displays, the light breeze adding to the pleasant atmosphere. Hyunjin walked beside you, his relaxed stride matching the laid-back vibe of the day, his sleeves rolled up casually, showing off his sculpted arms.

You were walking past a stand with fabric and ribbons when you noticed one that stood out as especially delicate—it was a gentle pastel pink. Before you could stop yourself, you turned to Hyunjin and smiled nonchalantly as an idea struck you. You said, "Hey, Hyun," as you gazed up at him with a playful twinkle in your eyes. He looked down at you, looking at you with interest. "Yeah?" While holding out the ribbon, you said, "Can you do me a favor?"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What kind of favor?"

With a teasing smile, you held the ribbon out toward him. "Could you tie this around your bicep? Just for fun," you said, your voice light and playful.

Hyunjin stopped walking for a moment, blinking at you in surprise. "A ribbon? Around my arm?" He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the randomness of the request. "Are you serious?"

You nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain your excitement. "Yep! I think it'd look cute. Come on, please?"

Hyunjin stopped for a moment, then shook his head while continuing to laugh. He said, "You’re really something," but his smile made it clear he wasn't going to turn you down. Taking the ribbon from your hand, he easily tied it around his bicep, his biceps rippling slightly as you both walked ahead. He arched an eyebrow at you as he straightened up and flexed his arm after tying it. With a teasing grin tugging at his lips, he asked, "How do I look?"

When you saw him with the delicate ribbon against his muscular arm, you couldn't help but giggle. Your heart skipped a beat at how incredibly good he looked. "You look... like a model who’s ready to break hearts and steal ribbons," you taunted. Clearly pleased with himself, Hyunjin grinned. "Well, I'm glad you think so," he added, emphasizing with his arm still flexed. "Anything for you, I guess." You bent over and kissed him on the cheek. You muttered, "You're the best," appreciating how he always gave in to your silly requests.

HAN

It was a breezy afternoon, and you and Jisung were taking a stroll through a local park, enjoying the calm atmosphere. The trees were swaying gently in the wind, and the sun was just starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. You walked side by side, hands brushing occasionally, the sound of your footsteps mixing with the peaceful background noise of nature.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Jisung had rolled up his sleeves earlier, revealing his toned biceps. Every time he moved, you couldn’t help but admire how strong he looked, his muscles subtly flexing.

An idea popped into your head, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You decided to have a little fun.

"Hey, Ji," you said, turning to him with a teasing grin.

He glanced over at you with that signature cocky smirk of his. "What? What’s that look for?" he asked, already sensing that something mischievous was coming.

You pulled a soft, pastel ribbon out of your bag that you’d picked up earlier, holding it up with a playful sparkle in your eyes. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Jisung blinked for a moment, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, before a cocky grin spread across his face. "A ribbon? Around my bicep?" he repeated, clearly amused. "What, you think I need a little decoration to match my muscles or something?"

Without even attempting to conceal your laughter, you burst out laughing. "Well, you know," you replied, "It’s just that I think you'd look even more... impressive with it." Jisung laughed, obviously taking pleasure in your flirty banter. "Oh, so I’m already impressive, but a ribbon is just the finishing touch?" His voice was overflowing with confidence as he flexed his arm, obviously playing up the situation. "Alright, I will. For you.” Taking the ribbon from your hand, he wrapped it around his bicep and secured it with a little, exaggerated arm flex. He moved slowly and deliberately, obviously relishing the attention he was receiving. He gave you a dramatic flex after finishing, lifting his arm a little.

With a smug look on his face, he asked, "How’s this?" "Looking good, right?" You chuckle quietly as you admire how self-assured he was about it. "Really?” You shook your head in pleased amazement and replied, "You look ridiculous... but also ridiculously good." "You could wear anything and still manage to look perfect." Jisung leaned in a little, obviously enjoying your compliment. "Of course," he answered, grinning even broadly. "I mean, I always look this good, but if a ribbon makes you smile, I’m all in."

You smiled, reaching up to adjust the ribbon playfully. "You really are full of yourself, huh?"

"Only because I know you like it," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I’m definitely not complaining," you said, feeling the warmth of his confidence mixed with your affection for him.

As you continued your walk together, you couldn’t help but smile at how he always knew how to make you laugh—and how, no matter the request, he would always turn it into something fun.

felix

It was a cozy evening at home, and you and Felix were in the middle of a movie marathon. The soft glow of the fairy lights you’d strung up earlier added to the intimate vibe of the night, and a bowl of popcorn sat between you on the couch. You were curled up beside him, feeling completely content as you both laughed at the random jokes and cheesy moments of the movie.

Felix, who was in a comfortable oversized hoodie and sweatpants, absentmindedly tugged his hoodie off, showing off his lean arms as he adjusted himself on the couch. You couldn't help but notice how good he looked, even in something so simple.

Then, your eyes landed on a cute ribbon you had left on the coffee table. You remembered you had bought it earlier and thought it would be fun to incorporate it into your night somehow. A mischievous idea crept into your mind.

“Hey, Lix,” you said, pausing the movie with a sly grin.

He turned his head toward you with a curious expression. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.

You picked up the ribbon and held it up in front of him, the light catching its soft, pastel color. “Can you do me a favor?” you asked, your tone playful.

Felix blinked and tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “What kind of favor?”

You bit your lip, trying to keep your giggles in check. “Could you tie this around your bicep? I think it’ll look really cute on you.”

Felix's eyes immediately lit up, his face breaking into an excited grin. “Wait… really?” he said, his voice practically bubbling with enthusiasm. “I’ve seen people doing this lately, and I’ve been wanting to try it! Yes! Let’s do it!”

You burst out laughing at his excitement. “I had no idea you’d be so into it.”

Felix practically bounced off the couch in excitement, reaching for the ribbon before you even finished speaking. "I’ve got to do it right, though," he said, his expression full of determination as he wrapped the ribbon carefully around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. He flexed his arm as he finished, clearly pleased with the result.

He turned toward you with a proud smirk. "How’s this? Am I pulling it off?" he asked, his voice full of playful confidence.

You smiled, completely amused by how eager he was. “You look amazing,” you said, laughing. "Honestly, you’re probably the best person to wear a ribbon. It looks like you were born for it."

Felix struck a dramatic pose, flexing his arm again as if he were on a runway. “I knew it,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “I’m a trendsetter. Always ahead of the curve.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching over to adjust the ribbon slightly. “You’re so extra,” you teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But you really do look good.”

Felix smiled widely, his eyes softening as he pulled you closer. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling warm and content. “Best decision I made today,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection for him as the movie continued to play in the background. Felix, with his ribbon and his smile, was all you needed in that moment.

seungmin

It was a quiet afternoon in the park. The weather was perfect—cool with a gentle breeze, and the soft sounds of children playing and birds chirping filled the air. You and Seungmin were sitting on a bench near a pond, enjoying the calm atmosphere. He had brought along a book, but you had found yourself distracted, leaning back and soaking in the peaceful scene around you.

As you sat beside him, your fingers absentmindedly ran through the small bag you’d brought along. That was when you noticed it—a soft, pastel ribbon you’d picked up from a craft shop earlier that week. A soft smile crept onto your face as an idea formed.

You glanced over at Seungmin, who was still quietly reading. His biceps were subtly flexing under his fitted T-shirt, and the thought of adding a cute, little accessory to them suddenly seemed like the perfect idea.

“Seung,” you began, your voice light and teasing, “can you do me a favor?”

He looked up from his book, his expression one of mild curiosity. “Hmm? What is it?” His tone was relaxed, not expecting anything unusual.

You held up the ribbon in front of him, trying to hide your excitement. “Can you tie this around your bicep?” you asked, your voice playful. “I think it’ll look cute on you.”

Seungmin blinked, clearly caught off guard. He stared at the ribbon for a moment, then looked back at you, slightly confused. “A ribbon? Around my arm?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Why would I do that?”

You pouted, trying to hide your disappointment. “I just think it would be fun,” you said, a little quieter now. “You’d look cute.”

Seungmin frowned slightly, not quite sold on the idea. “It just seems... kind of silly,” he muttered, glancing at the ribbon again. “I don’t know if I want to do that.”

The playful energy you had a moment ago quickly shifted. You felt a little disappointed, even though you knew it wasn’t a big deal. You had just hoped it would be a fun moment to share, but now Seungmin seemed unsure, and you couldn’t help but feel a little deflated.

Noticing the change in your mood, Seungmin's expression softened, his gaze flicking back to you. He realized he might have come off a little too harsh, and seeing the slight sadness in your eyes, he quickly sighed, setting his book aside.

“Okay, okay,” he said, giving you a small but warm smile. “I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to wear it for long, alright?”

You perked up instantly, your smile returning. “Really?” you asked, your tone filled with excitement. “Thank you, babe!”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile on his face. “I don’t get why you like these kinds of silly things, but…” He grabbed the ribbon from your hand and wrapped it around his bicep with exaggerated care, making sure it was tied just right.

Once it was secure, he flexed his arm just a little, showing off the ribbon in a way that almost made you laugh. “How’s that?” he asked, his voice a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment. "You happy now?"

You couldn't stop smiling. He might have been reluctant at first, but he still looked amazing with the ribbon on his arm. “You look great,” you said with a grin, reaching out to gently adjust the ribbon. “I told you, it’s cute.”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll wear it for a little while.”

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It makes me very happy,” you said softly, your voice warm with affection. “Thank you for indulging me.” He chuckled, clearly feeling a little more at ease. As you sat together, the ribbon still around his bicep, you felt the warmth of the moment. It wasn’t just about the silly request—it was the way Seungmin always cared enough to make you happy, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone for a moment. And that made the simple gesture so much more special.

I.N

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Jeongin were relaxing at his place. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying the quiet, while he had been fiddling around with his phone. The windows were open, letting in the soft breeze, and the world outside seemed to slow down as you two enjoyed the calm.

You were absentmindedly scrolling through your own phone when your eyes fell on the small ribbon you’d brought with you. It was a simple, pastel blue, just the right size to fit around a bicep. A playful idea crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, babe," you said, glancing up at him, a teasing grin on your face.

He lowered his phone and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’s up?” he asked, clearly curious.

You held the ribbon out between your fingers. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked, your tone light and playful. "I think it’ll look cute on you."

Jeongin’s eyes lit up immediately, and a cocky grin spread across his face. He leaned back on the couch, puffing out his chest a little. "A ribbon?" he repeated, clearly liking the attention. "You want me to wear a ribbon around my bicep?"

You nodded, trying to keep your grin in check. "Yep, exactly that. I think it'd be cute, and I wanna see it on you."

He let out a small laugh, the kind that hinted he was already feeling a little too proud of himself. "Oh, so you want me to show off these bad boys, huh?" he said, flexing his biceps a little and making them bulge impressively. "I mean, I have been hitting the gym with the guys a lot lately. All those extra sets are finally paying off."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Okay, we get it," you teased, giving him a playful push. "You’ve got muscles. Can you just put the ribbon on already?”

Jeongin chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Oh, I’m just getting started," he said, looking down at his arms and admiring them as though he were in front of a mirror. "You know, I have been getting stronger, so now I’m basically a walking advertisement for all my hard work."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure, sure," you said, amused. "Keep flexing. I just want you to tie the ribbon on so I can see how ridiculous you look with it."

Jeongin’s grin widened, and he leaned forward to take the ribbon from your hand. "Fine, I’ll humor you. But just so you know," he said as he carefully wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. "I’m not just doing this for you. It’s a chance for me to show off my gains."

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic tone. "I can see that," you teased, playfully eyeing him as he flexed again to show off the ribbon. "Are you going to wear it like this all day, or do I have to deal with the gym bro attitude the whole time?"

He turned to face you, flexing his arm dramatically, showing off the ribbon now adorning his bicep. "You think this is a one-time thing?" he asked, clearly enjoying how ridiculous and charming he looked. "I’m about to start a new trend. Who wouldn’t want to wear a ribbon with these muscles?"

You rolled your eyes again, though there was a smile on your face. "You’re such a show-off," you said, leaning over to adjust the ribbon just slightly, your fingers grazing his skin. "But you look good, I’ll admit it."

Jeongin puffed his chest out even more, giving you a proud look. "Of course I do. You’re welcome," he said, his voice oozing confidence. "You’re lucky I’m letting you see all this muscle right now."

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m lucky, huh?" you said with a playful smirk. "I’m the one who gets to see you all flexing over a ribbon, looking like a total goofball."

Jeongin just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. "Anything to make you smile," he said, softening a little despite the cocky attitude.

You snuggled into him, smiling. "I think you’re cute no matter what," you said, enjoying the warmth of his arm around you. "But this just makes you even more ridiculous, and I love it."

Jeongin grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice softening despite his earlier boastfulness.

—

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

[lovedrruunk]

'A Fresh Start 𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐[part ii]

When the mysterious new girl in town makes a lasting first impression, you make it your goal to befriend her and welcome her to town. [Part i] playlist!!!

self deprecating stalker jinx ill luv u 4eva & eva & eva...

"Hey."

"Hi!"

“. . .”

“. . . ?”

“. . .”

“. . . ???”

You blinked, waiting for her to say literally anything else, but nope. Just “hey.” and now she was standing there, looking like she was on the verge of shitting her pants while you wondered if this was how all her conversations went.

Surprisingly you didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable, more so confused. Looking around, your eyes landed on your old neighbor who’s own eyes were on the girl in front of you. He was giving her this look of judgment. It wasn’t obvious or harsh but it was still there. And then it clicked.

This was her.

The newcomer who moved into that old cottage on the outskirts of town. The one Mrs. Van Dee Kamp couldn’t stop speculating about, the one Mr. Gallagher said “looked like trouble”, and the same one you were so curious about. 

It wasn’t long before your group started to shuffle awkwardly, clearly ready to move on. They glanced at her, the kind of quick, hesitant looks people gave when they didn’t want to seem rude but also didn’t want to linger. One by one, they made their excuses, mumbling something about needing to get back to their stalls. They took a couple of steps away, looking back once they realized you weren’t following.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later!” you called, waving them off.

Turning back, you realized she was already staring at you, her wide pink eyes locked onto yours like you’d just caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Hi!” you started... for the second time now.

“Uh… yeah.” she said, her voice flat as if responding to a completely different conversation.

Not exactly the warmest start, but you continued. “You’re new in town right? People have been talking, but you know, nothing bad! They’re just curious.”

Her eyes glanced left then right as you were talking, like she was scanning for an exit. “Yeah. New.”

You tilted your head. “Well, welcome. I’m–”

“Okay.” she cut you off, her tone abrupt.

“...Okay?” you repeated, blinking.

“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”

Before you could say another word, she spun on her heel and started walking… no, speed-walking, towards the dirt path that lead into the forest.

You stood there, frozen, your brain scrambling to process what had just happened. Did she seriously just… run away? Mid-conversation?

It took you a solid few seconds to realize your jaw was hanging open. Shutting it quickly, you looked around, half expecting someone to jump out with a camera and tell you that you that it was a prank.

But no. The mysterious girl who had everyone talking had just bolted, leaving you standing there like an idiot.

And for some reason, instead of being offended, you couldn’t help but laugh.

Who was she? And what kind of person walked away from a perfectly normal greeting? Mind you, a greeting she had started. You didn’t know why, but suddenly, you were dying to find out.

. . .

This feeling wasn’t technically new.

For weeks, you’d felt it, that weird sensation on the back of your neck, like someone was watching you. At first, it had been easy to ignore. You told yourself it was just your brain playing tricks. It was harmless. Whatever.

But now? Not so much.

The feeling wasn’t just there when you stood still like it was before, it followed you now. Around the market, down quiet streets, even when you stopped to chat with neighbors. You’d catch glimpses, a blur of blue hair disappearing behind a corner, the faintest sound of boots on the gravel.

More than once, you were so sure you’d catch them. You’d spin around at the sound of a shuffle or a shadow that felt too close. But by the time you looked? Nothing. Just an empty alley or a completely innocent looking street lamp.

It was driving you nuts.

You didn’t have to guess who it was either. You knew it was her. The girl from the square, Powder, or whatever her name really was. The way she’d bolted last time you tried to talk to her? That had to mean something.

Now it wasn’t just about being watched. It was about her. What was her deal? Why was she sneaking around? Why couldn’t she just talk to you?

You're own feelings about the situation were confusing you. You didn't necessarily... mind it. Unlike the other townsfolk, you didn't see her as a threat. She didn't seem like the type who would go out of her way to harm you. So 'why' was the question, and you were determined to figure it out.

Every time you caught a glimpse of her, something tugged at you. It wasn’t just the mystery of it all, though that was definitely part of it. There was something about her, it's like she didn't want to be seen yet wanted all of your attention.

And you wanted to know why. Why so secluded? Why so interested in your mundane countryside life?

It wasn’t like the townsfolk were any help either. They whispered about her, sure, 'the new girl with the blue hair and the weird vibes' but that’s all they did. Whispers. Speculation. None of them had actually tried to get to know her as far as you could tell.

Which left it to you.

The more you thought about it, the more determined you got. You didn’t want to believe she was some big, bad menace just because she didn’t fit into their little box of what people here were 'supposed' to be like. She was human, and just as deserving of a community as anyone else. So, yeah, you had questions.

And, apparently, she had no intention of giving you any answers.

It was almost funny how good she was at avoiding you. You’d be walking down the street, sure you'd spotted her near the bakery, and then poof. Gone. Like she had been a figment of your imagination. It was starting to feel like a game, except you knew something she didn't. How to cheat.

. . .

“Alright, I know you’re in there!” you yelled, leaning closer to the door as your fist continued to bang on the wood. “You can’t hide forever!”

Silence.

You squinted at the cottage, the place looked... interesting. It was still that run down creepy cottage you remembered always seeing whenever you passed by, but it was strangely... lively. Big scraps of metal and parts outside, colorful flowers (although wilted), and colorful graffiti that seemed to cover every side.

Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you knocked again harder, this time raising your voice. “I’m not leaving until you open this door!”

Still nothing.

“Powder! Or... whatever your name is!” you shouted, hoping the use of her name might get a reaction.

From inside, you swore you heard a faint creak. A floorboard, maybe? It was hard to tell over the sound of your heart hammering in your ears. You leaned forward, pressing your ear to the door.

“I can hear you in there, you know.” you tried, softening your tone just a bit, stepping back from the door. “I’m not mad or anything. I just want to talk! That’s all.”

The silence that followed felt even more deafening than before. For a second, you wondered if you’d imagined the sound altogether.

And then, just as you were about to knock again, the door creaked open.

Barely.

A narrow space, enough for one pink eye to peek through.

“What do you want?” came a voice.

It wasn’t hostile exactly, but it wasn’t friendly either. Cautious. Suspicious.

You blinked, caught off guard by just how intense her gaze was up close.

“Uh, hi?” you started, scrambling for words that didn’t sound totally ridiculous. “We’ve been running into each other a lot lately- well, okay, more like you’ve been running away- but I just wanted to…” You trailed off, realizing you hadn’t actually planned this far ahead.

Her eye narrowed slightly, not moving to open the door any wider.

“...check in?” you finally finished, wincing at your own words.

The door inched shut a little more.

“Wait, wait!” you said frantically as you held up your hands.

“I mean it! No tricks, no weird town gossip or whatever. I just… I think we got off on the wrong foot. Can we maybe start over? I'd love to be friends.”

Her eye flicked to your hands, then back to your face. For a moment, you thought she was actually gonna let you in.

Instead, she sighed. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Her voice was quieter now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. Regret? Fear?

“Why not?” you asked gently, lowering your hands.

But she didn’t answer, instead she gave you this long silent look. And just as you were about to speak up again, the door shut and the bolt slid into place.

“Well, okay then.”

. . .

when i talk abt the town pls imagine a Minecraft village or something of the sort ...

this chapter was SOOOO SELF DIVULGENT btw lololol was totally laughing my ass off writing it. I hope the difference in the way i write their povs is noticeable!!! also its 2am rn ill make sure to proof read in the morning... maybe...

part 3 sometime this week probs! it'll go back to being in pows pov ≽^•⩊•^≼˚

notes r appreciated & thx 4 reading as aaalways XOXOXOXO

[Teensy taglist (ˊᗜˋ)]

@cattjull @kenqki @powderbomb-jinxed

[silcoitus]

Could you write a (young)Silco/Disabled Reader, who for the most part is able to walk just fine with the help of a brace but on bad days they’ll bring out the cane and on really bad days a wheelchair but is still insistent on trying to do things no matter how much they shouldn’t?

I tried to be as sensitive as I could towards reader's disability. I hope it comes across sincere and that I haven't committed any faux pas. If I have, please let me know in the comments and I will happily revise. Like young Silco in this fic, I will quickly apologize and learn if given the opportunity.

A Voice Like Yours

Masterlist | AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: gn!reader x silco; disabled reader; Silco; Felicia; Connol; Vander; Benzo; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort;

Word count: 3.5k

Beta reader: @juniper-sunny

You would've liked to get to the market sooner, but getting out of bed was particularly hard today. Typically, you're able to handle just fine with only your brace. And when that doesn't work, your cane will usually suffice. But with rough sleep last night and a flare-up this morning, you opt for using your chair today to get to the market. Just until you can get your bearings again.

With your later arrival, you're unable to beat the morning rush, sandwiched between what seems like every citizen of the Undercity. Most give you a wide berth, but others shove past you unceremoniously. You're used to it by now, but your fatigue plasters a permanent scowl on your face as you try to find your usual vendors.

As you make your way through your shopping list, the bag sitting on your lap getting slightly heavier with each new stall you visit, you feel a bit better. (You used to keep your bag slung over the back of your chair, but stopped when some asshole stole it.)

You're on the last item on your list when you get settled in front of one wooden stall and make small talk with the shopkeep. He greets you by name and grabs your usual order, setting it down on the counter before turning his back to fix something. You try to reach for your purchase, but it's just a touch too far. You're about to move your chair closer when a stranger waltzes up and plucks the bag off the counter.

“Hey! That's mine!” you protest, rolling closer to him.

“I know,” he replies, handing it to you. “I was just getting it for you.”

You snatch it and shove it into your canvas bag, still frowning at the tall, slender man with long raven hair. 

“I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own.” You grab your wheels and in one fluid, practiced motion, reposition your chair away from him. You start to leave, but pause, looking over your shoulder. “I don't need your help.”

Out of your periphery, you see him raise both hands in surrender, but from this angle, you can't tell if his expression is sincere or sarcastic. You try to shake it off, ready to go back home and wash your hands of the interaction. 

The Undercity is supposed to be the city of self-reliance.

So why does everyone still treat you like a child?

The following day fares better. You bring your cane (just in case) for your shift at the shop, settling into your stool at the cash register. You're reading a book during the slower hours when a customer comes in and sets a stack of papers down onto the counter. Your eyebrows furrow at the flyers and you lift your eyes to see a familiar face.

“If it's alright, I'd like to add these to your bulletin board,” the man from yesterday says, not even looking at you. He leans on the counter, looking out the large windows to the street. “Got a meeting coming up and want to get the word out.”

Finally, he turns to you.

You watch as his face cycles from apathy to confusion to recognition. His eyes dart down to your stool and the surrounding area, seemingly looking for your wheelchair. When he comes up empty, he looks back up to your face, head tilting to the side.

“I didn't need it today,” you preemptively answer. “Not that I owe you an explanation.”

“Right, right, sorry,” he's quick to apologize. “I didn't mean to insinuate—”

“That I'm faking?”

“No! Never!” he says, hands coming up in surrender, again. His shoulders sag forward slightly and he runs his fingers through his hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “I'm sorry, can we start again?”

He puts his hand out. You eye it warily.

“Hi, I'm Silco.”

Your lips thin, but you take his hand.

“Hi, Silco.” You give him your name.

“I would like to put these up on your bulletin board,” he says, nodding to the corkboard behind you.

You put your hand out.

“Only two,” you instruct. “One here and the one in the back.”

He starts to hand you the flyers, but then pulls back.

“I can put up the one out back,” he offers.

“It's fine,” you say, insisting with a gesture of your hand. “I can do it.”

Silco looks at your hand then up to your face, understanding slowly spreading across his features. He nods, mostly to himself, as he hands you the papers.

“Of course.”

You take one flyer and a thumbtack from the corner of the board, stabbing it in place with a bit more force than necessary.

“You should come,” Silco says from behind you. “We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”

You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowed.

“Just think about it,” he says softly, gathering the pile of papers. With a small, almost apologetic, smile, he leaves.

You lift the remaining flyer, scanning it.

Children of Zaun 

Town Hall

Wednesday 

4pm

The Last Drop 

“Hey, Monte?” you call out. “If it's okay, I think I'm gonna head out a little early.”

Your boss peeks his head out from one of the aisles, his glasses slightly crooked on his nose.

“That's fine,” he reassures you, calling your name. “We're pretty slow today; I can take it from here.”

You take your cane from behind the counter, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

“Thanks! I'll see you tomorrow!”

You make your way to The Last Drop, having spent a couple days wrestling internally about whether or not to go. You had heard of the Children of Zaun, but not really given them much thought. From what you'd heard, they were a ragtag group of misfits posing as rebels, claiming to want independence from Piltover. You had rolled your eyes in disbelief at the notion. Besides, you have plenty of your own concerns to worry about; it's not as if you have time to take up some righteous cause.

But Silco's words ring in your ear, propelling you forward.

“We could use a voice like yours in the Children.”

What did he mean by that? “Like yours”—what’s that supposed to mean? So they want some sort of token disabled person on their crew to make them look better or something?

But the sincere remorse on his face and the softness of his tone told you otherwise. 

Maybe he meant it.

Maybe he does actually want to hear what you might have to say.

So you walk up to The Last Drop, hand clutching your cane, holding it less like a walking stick and more like a blunt force weapon (which it has had to be, on occasion). Taking a deep breath, you pull your shoulders back, and push open the door.

You're by no means early, but there's no way this is the entire gang. You can count on exactly one hand the number of people that showed up. There's Silco, standing with his back to you, what looks to be a couple sharing a table, and then two larger men standing by the bar. You're immediately filled with regret and start to turn back around, until you hear someone call your name.

“You came!” Silco says, more excitement in his voice than you'd expect. “Hey, this is who I told you about.”

Four pairs of eyes turn to you and you feel rooted on the spot.

You shoot Silco a look.

He told them about you? What could he possibly have said?

He gestures you forward, leading you to the couple at the table. You take one of the empty seats and Silco sits in the one next to you. He leans forward, one forearm barred along the wooden surface as he addresses the couple.

“I told you we were missing something,” he starts. “That this—” he gestures to the group, forefinger pointed and moving in a circle, “wasn't enough.”

That same forefinger comes down, tapping incessantly on the table.

“If we're to be the voice of Zaun, we need to make sure that everyone has a spot at the table.”

The woman glances at you before turning back to Silco, nodding slightly as she speaks.

“Okay…” she nods a little more, as if the thought is taking root in her head. “Yeah. That makes sense.” She turns toward you. “My name is Felicia and this is Connol,” she says, leaning her head toward the man next to her. 

“Felicia. Connol. Nice to meet you.”

You shake hands with both of them.

“Would you like a drink?”

You pull your lips through your teeth and Felicia is quick to reassure you.

“Don't worry; it's on the house.” She straightens up, calling out to the large man behind the bar. “Vander! Some beer!”

“Get it yourself!” he calls back.

“Fuck you,” she laughs.

“Oy,” the other man says, bringing a tray over. “Watch yer language ‘round the new recruit.”

Felicia laughs.

“They’re an adult, Benzo; they can handle it.”

You look back at her and she offers you a smirk. You take the free mug of beer and Silco raises his up in toast.

“To the Children of Zaun.”

Felicia and Connol mirror the movement.

“The Children of Zaun!”

You lift your glass and say the words, though you don't take them to heart just yet. But as you bring the mug to your lips, you can't help the small smile from creeping onto your face.

Every Wednesday, you leave the shop to go to the bar. And every Wednesday, you become a little more smitten.

With the cause.

With the man that introduced you to it.

The more you get to know Silco, the more you realize your first impression of him wasn't a good representation of the man he is. 

Or, perhaps, maybe it was the perfect representation.

A man who only wants to help, eager to uplift those around him. So excited to do so that he steps on a few toes in the process. He's stumbling and clumsy with his help, but he's quick to apologize and quick to learn. 

It doesn't take long for you to realize—he’s that way with everyone. It wasn't just you and it wasn't just because you're disabled. He's always on alert for if someone could use a hand, always first to arrive when someone asks for assistance. That's just who he is.

And if this is one of the rebels trying to uplift the Undercity, the Nation of Zaun is in good hands.

Silco is keeping you company at the shop, following you around as you restock some items. He carries a crate of goods while you arrange them on displays, your discerning eye careful to make them look as appealing as possible.

You drop one of the small boxes and Silco is quick to bend down to grab it.

“Silco,” you warn, “What'd I say about helping without being asked?”

“Sorry, right,” he says, straightening up to let you retrieve it. “Force of habit.”

You grin up at him, chuckling. “I'm just fucking with you.”

With some assistance from him, you get out of your wheelchair and resume your place at the cash register. Silco takes the opportunity to sit in your chair, long fingers fiddling with the wheels. You laugh as he tries to maneuver the chair around the front of the shop.

“Have you learned any tricks on this thing?” he asks, trying to lean back and balance it so that his feet lift off the ground.

“It's a wheelchair, not a skateboard, you jackass.”

“That's a ‘no’ then,” he says, smirking. But the smirk is wiped clean off his face when the chair tumbles backwards, sending him crashing to the floor.

You let out a bark of a laugh at that, laughing even harder when he starts to groan.

“Serves you right!” You grab your cane, gingerly getting off the stool to help him back up. “If you broke my chair, I swear to Janna… Do you know how hard these are to get? I had to pay so much coin for it.” 

You point your cane at him threateningly, but he wraps his fingers around it and tugs, pulling you forward. A startled squeak at your throat, you fall on top of him, catching yourself just in time so you don't headbutt him.

“Silco—”

“Now we're both down here,” he teases, smirking.

“Wonderful,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “What a masterful plan.”

Something sparks behind Silco's ocean green eyes, something playful, mischievous.

“I'll say it is.”

And with that, he lifts his head, closing the distance between your lips. Your eyebrows lift and your eyes flutter closed, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours. His hand comes up to tenderly cradle your face and you lean into the kiss, pressing your chest to his so you're flush with him. You don't know how much time has passed, but as you kiss him, you feel as light as a cloud, until—

“Hey!”

You straighten up, face red with blush.

“I don't pay you to swap spit with the customers,” Monte says, but there's no bite to his words. “Get up before someone trips on you.”

You laugh, pressing your forehead to Silco's. 

“Here.” You push yourself up, offering him a hand. “Let me help you.”

It’s been a while since you’ve had a friend group like this. Ever since the accident that caused your disability, no one seems to have the patience to deal with your rougher days, as if you’re holding them back.

It’s hard to not internalize that feeling.

But with Silco and the rest of the Children of Zaun, you feel different. Whereas before, it felt like your mere presence was a burden, you feel seen and appreciated. You feel heard.

When you tell Vander that the bathroom stalls are too tiny for your chair, he knocks the dividers down to make room.

When you lament about the small step outside the front door, Benzo throws together a small wooden ramp. 

More and more, The Last Drop feels like home, though going to the basement or the upstairs office still eludes you. It’s not that you can’t. It’s more that you’re worried that you’ll have to ask for help to get you back on the ground floor should you get stuck in either place. But, there’s never really been any reason for you to visit either floor, so you’re content to stay in the main bar area, occasionally ducking into the back room when the crowd gets a little too loud.

It’s on one such trip to the storage room that Silco finds you, huddled on the floor, your cane propped up next to you. Your knees are pulled up to your chest and your palms pressed flat against your ears, trying in vain to drown out the sounds of the bar. You had made the mistake of visiting during peak hours and didn’t have the energy to go all the way back home. You thought you could power through it until the customers dwindled, but it became too much. So, you retreated to the back room, holding back tears.

“We have one more!” Silco calls over his shoulder as he opens the door, talking to Vander who tends the bar. “After this, we’ll need to get more.”

He turns over his shoulder to see you on the floor. Immediately, his voice lowers and he crouches down to get eye level, your name a reassuring coo on his throat.

“Hey… are you okay?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut.

“Okay, just… give me a second.”

You hear him pick up a crate of bottles. The door swings open, letting in the raucous noise from outside. You let out a whimper as the door swings closed. After a few tense minutes, the door opens again and you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Hey, I’m back,” Silco coos. There’s shuffling as he moves to sit next to you. “What do you need?”

It’s a sentence you practically trained him to ask. With his tendency to charge forward offering the help he thinks you need, you managed to finally get him to learn to ask you first. 

It’s a small gesture, but at this moment, it’s everything.

“I need…” Your breath is shaky, your eyes holding back tears. “I need quiet. And— And it’s too far to walk home.”

Silco shifts, moving to crouch in front of you, hands on either of your shoulders. He squeezes them and you look up to see a tender expression on his face. Not pity or condescension. Concern. Sincere, genuine concern.

“It’s much quieter upstairs in the office,” he offers. “Do you think you can make it?”

Your lips tighten. It’s hard to think with so much noise; you can barely hear your own thoughts. It doesn’t help that you can feel a flare up coming on, pain shooting through your legs.

“I… I don’t know.”

You watch Silco chew on the inside of his mouth, thinking. 

“I could… carry you.”

You shoot a look at him, equal parts indignation and humiliation.

“I know, I know. It’s not ideal.” He looks around the storage room as if he’ll find an alternative answer. “But the sooner we get you out of here, the sooner you can feel better.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, wrestling internally. The sting behind your eyes is threatening to push past your defenses. Finally, wordlessly, you nod.

“Okay,” he says, tone firm. 

His ocean green eyes dart around your body, trying to figure out how best to pick you up that keeps your dignity intact. But before he can reach a decision, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to yourself, holding him in a tight embrace.

“Oh! Hey…” He melts into the hug, bringing both arms around your back, squeezing you gently. “It’s okay.” He rubs your back with one hand, palm warm against your shirt. “It’s okay. We all need help sometimes.”

“I did too much today,” you say into the crook of his neck, tears escaping your eyes. “I should’ve stayed home.”

“Shhhh…” he shushes, shifting his arms as he slowly rises to his feet, bringing you along. 

You manage to get to your feet, but your legs feel wobbly and unstable under your weight.

“Here, let me…” Silco bends down and hangs your cane over the crook of his elbow before bringing one arm behind your knees. “On three. One… two… three.”

You lift your legs up and he scoops you up in his arms, straightening to a stand. Instinctively, you wrap both your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder.

“I got you,” he coos. “I’ve got you.” He takes one final look around the room before pushing the door open with his back. “We’ll go behind the bar; no one will even know.”

You nod, tears flowing in earnest now to stain Silco’s shirt.

You press one ear to the crook of his neck, trying to dampen the loud voices of the bar patrons. At that, Silco walks a little faster, making his way up the staircase. In his haste, he drops your cane on the landing.

“Shit! Sorry, I’ll go back for it,” he says, continuing forward.

After opening the door and carefully depositing you onto the plush red cushions of the couch, he darts out the door, returning with your cane in hand. He sets it on the coffee table in front of you before sitting next to you.

“There.” He rubs your hip as you lay on your side. “Is that better?”

You nod, reorienting yourself to rest your head on his lap. Silco settles on the couch, bringing one hand to your head, smoothing down your hair in soft reassuring strokes. His other hand grazes your cheek, wiping away your tears.

It’s finally quiet.

Your legs still ache, but it’s not as bad as it was before. You can feel the rise and fall of Silco’s chest against your back, his breathing a calming rhythm.

“Thank you, Silco,” you whisper.

“Of course,” he whispers back.

After a moment, he shifts, bending down to bring his lips to your temple. You smile at the touch, feeling warmth settle behind your ribs.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t,” he cuts you off. “I’ve never heard you apologize before and I don’t want to hear it now.”

The firmness in his voice has you turning your face to look up at him. There’s a resoluteness in his expression, a confidence you typically see reserved for Children of Zaun meetings. He looks off into the distance, as if seeing something that’s not there. A vision. A promise.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he continues. His chin dips and his ocean green eyes find yours. His eyebrows lift and his lips curl into a soft smile, full of pride and affection. “You’re perfect.”

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @sirenofzaun @blissfulip @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon

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[slytherinsmuse]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Yours, Always | Theodore Nott ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem! Reader

Warnings: characters are 18+, not canon,SMUT (minors please look away), smoking, drinking

Summary: Smut, fluff, light angst|Amidst the quiet chaos of a summer at the Malfoy Manor, Theo and his ex navigate the tension of unresolved feelings .

Word count: 12109

author's note: This is a bit longer than what I have posted. Honestly I hope you enjoy because I feel like I am bad at writing smut (despite loving to read it).

The fire crackled and hissed as the group gathered around it, the orange glow casting flickering shadows across the sprawling Malfoy gardens. The scent of freshly trimmed hedges mingled with the faint aroma of smoke, the warmth of the flames competing against the cool evening breeze that whispered through the manicured lawns. Laughter echoed through the warm night air, conversations overlapping in a symphony of easy companionship. Astoria leaned into Draco’s side, her hand resting lightly on his knee as they exchanged whispers. Daphne and Blaise shared a bottle of wine, their heads close together, their laughter a soft, musical undercurrent. Pansy was perched on Mattheo’s lap, giggling at something he’d said, her wine glass dangling from her fingers as though she’d forgotten it was there.

And then there was you.

You sat silently in one of the ornate garden chairs, its wrought-iron design digging faintly into your back as you nursed a glass of wine. The firelight danced on the surface of the dark liquid, flickering shadows reflecting your own stormy thoughts. You did your best to appear absorbed in the flames, as though the mesmerising flicker of orange and gold could distract you from the oppressive knot tightening in your chest.But the warmth of the flames did little to thaw the cold discomfort that had taken up residence there.

It had been a mistake to come. You knew that now.

You’d spent the better part of the past week convincing yourself you could handle it—convincing yourself that enough time had passed since your breakup with Theodore Nott, that you could sit across from him and feel nothing. That you could be surrounded by the memory of what once was, of what you’d lost, and still hold yourself together.

You’d been wrong.

Theo sat across from you, lounging with his usual effortless ease. The firelight played in his sharp features, highlighting the angles of his jaw and the unruly strands of dark hair that had always refused to obey him. His long legs stretched out lazily, one arm slung over the back of his chair. Every so often, his gaze would flicker your way, lingering just long enough to send a shiver crawling up your spine, only for you to quickly look away, pretending not to notice. You could feel the intensity of those glances, though, burning as vividly as the flames that cracked and danced in front of you.

The tension between you was suffocating, a silent storm raging beneath the veneer of calm you both pretended to wear. And yet no one else seemed to notice. The couples were too wrapped up in their own happiness, too absorbed in their easy laughter and whispered conversations, to see the battle playing out in the spaces between you and Theo.

Not that the tension was entirely his fault. If anything, it was your own for agreeing to come in the first place. You’d known the risks. But you’d come anyway, clinging to the false hope that you could prove something to yourself—prove you’d moved on. Instead, you were sitting in silence, your heart twisting painfully every time Theo laughed at one of Blaise’s sarcastic quips or leaned back with that maddening smirk.The worst part wasn’t just Theo. It was everything. The whole scene was a cruel reminder of what you didn’t have anymore—what you’d lost not once, but twice.

The couples were like something out of a picture-perfect fairy tale, their laughter and soft touches a sharp contrast to the gnawing ache in your chest. Astoria’s fingers lightly traced patterns on Draco’s arm, her delicate laugh blending seamlessly with his quieter chuckles. Daphne and Blaise were a study in effortless intimacy, sharing quiet jokes you couldn’t hear, their heads so close they might as well have been sharing the same breath. Even Pansy and Mattheo, chaotic as ever, were locked in their own little world, her laugh ringing out as he whispered something in her ear that made her swat his chest.

The breakup with Theo had been bad enough. It had left you raw, hollowed out in ways you hadn’t thought possible. But at least you’d had something to blame then. At least you could point to the fight, the accusations, the heartbreak, and tell yourself it had been inevitable.

But then came the Ravenclaw. The safe, soft-spoken boy who had seemed like the perfect antidote to Theo’s sharp edges and cutting words. The boy who had treated you with kindness, who had said all the right things and made all the right moves, but who had left you with the same emptiness.

“I think you still care about someone else.” he’d said when he ended it, his tone tinged with sadness. “And I think you need to figure that out before you can give your heart to someone new.”

You hadn’t been able to argue with him. You’d known he was right.

And now here you were, back where it all began, surrounded by couples who had figured out how to make it work, while you sat across from the boy who had broken you, pretending you weren’t still in love with him.The fire crackled again, louder this time, a log splitting in two as it fell deeper into the flames. You glanced up instinctively, your gaze colliding with Theo’s.

For a moment, neither of you looked away.

His eyes held yours, icy blue and unreadable as usual, the firelight reflecting in their depths. Your breath caught, and for the briefest second, it felt like the world had gone quiet, like the laughter and chatter of your friends had faded into nothingness. You looked away, breaking the moment before it could shatter you completely. You took a long sip of your wine, forcing yourself to focus on the heat spreading through your chest instead of the ache threatening to overwhelm you.

It was going to be a long two days.

The glass of wine felt heavier in your hand as your mind wandered again, thoughts spiralling down paths you’d tried to block off. You’d kept your breakup with the Ravenclaw—Dennis—a secret from your friends, not wanting to ruin the excitement of finishing school. They had all been so wrapped up in their plans, their triumphs, their relationships. The last thing you’d wanted was to bring them down with your own failures. Besides, it wasn’t like you had the energy to explain it. The breakup had been amicable, sure, but it had left you feeling alone. It wasn’t just the end of the relationship that hurt—it was the reminder of how little you’d truly felt for him, how you’d used him to try and forget Theo, and how much you’d failed.

You barely registered the voices around you until Astoria’s clear, sweet tone broke through the haze of your thoughts.

“Do you have any plans with Dennis this summer, Y/N?”

Your stomach sank at the mention of his name. The fire popped loudly, punctuating the sudden tension that tightened around your chest.

You glanced up, finding all eyes now on you. Astoria’s question was innocent, her gaze curious but kind. It wasn’t her fault, of course. None of them knew. You opened your mouth to answer, but the words stuck, your throat suddenly dry. You could feel Theo’s eyes on you again, sharp and piercing, but you refused to look at him.

Reluctantly, you forced a smile, doing your best to sound casual. “No.” you said, your voice a little too light. “No plans.”

There was a pause. Then Blaise chimed in, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What, is he too busy nerding out over his books or something?”

You chuckled nervously, trying to play it off. “Something like that.”

But Daphne wasn’t so easily distracted. She leaned forward slightly, her expression soft but probing. “Wait—why not? Didn’t he say he wanted to travel with you this summer?”

The group was silent now, all of them waiting for your response. Even Pansy, who had been laughing moments ago, seemed to have stilled.

You swallowed, the laughter bubbling in your chest too bitter to contain. “Because we’re not together anymore.” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

The reaction was immediate. Astoria’s mouth fell open slightly, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh.” she said softly, her hand instinctively tightening around Draco’s arm.

“What?” Blaise asked, his tone incredulous. “Since when?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Daphne added, her voice gentle but concerned.

You shrugged, forcing a chuckle that sounded too hollow to your own ears. “It wasn’t a big deal.” you lied. “It just… wasn’t working out.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretched uncomfortably long. You took another sip of wine, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat.

“Well, good riddance.” Pansy said, breaking the tension with her usual bluntness. “He was too dull for you anyway.”

You couldn’t help but smile faintly, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks for that, Pans.” you said dryly.

But you could still feel the others’ concern. Daphne’s worried glances, Astoria’s quiet sympathy, even Blaise’s rare seriousness as he studied you. You hated it. What you hated most, though, was Theo. Or rather, the fact that you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting, as if he could see straight through the flimsy façade you were putting up. You refused to look at him, but you could almost hear the thoughts running through his mind. You could imagine the way his jaw would be tight, the way his fingers would curl into his palm as he tried to stop himself from saying something biting or too honest.

“Honestly, good for you.” Blaise said after a moment, his tone lightening. “Dennis never could keep up with you anyway.”

You chuckled faintly, murmuring a quiet “thanks” before finishing the rest of your wine in one long gulp.

“Well…” Astoria said, clearly trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground, “that just means you’re free to enjoy the summer without any distractions.”

You nodded, forcing another tight smile. But as the conversation shifted, their voices growing louder and more cheerful again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else wasn’t letting the subject go. You risked a glance at Theo then, just for a second. His eyes met yours, and the intensity there made your breath catch. He didn’t look smug or amused, the way he often did when you were forced into the same space. He looked serious. Concerned, even. The knot in your chest tightened as you quickly looked away, pretending to focus on Astoria’s voice. You hated how easily Theo could read you, how he could strip away the carefully constructed walls you’d built without even trying. But more than that, you hated how much you still wanted him to.

You sat up quietly, the ornate chair creaking softly beneath you as you placed your empty wine glass to the side. The laughter and chatter of your friends faded into the background as your fingers slipped into your pocket, fishing out the small carton you kept hidden.

Cigarettes.

It was a habit you had once despised—one of Theo’s worst, in your opinion. You’d argued with him countless times about it during your relationship, hating the smell, the way it clung to him like an unwanted shadow. But now? Now it was a habit you had picked up yourself. The irony wasn’t lost on you as you flicked the lighter, the soft flame dancing briefly before the tip of the cigarette glowed. You inhaled deeply, the familiar burn spreading through your chest, and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl lazily into the night air. It was another secret you’d kept from your friends, like so much else. They didn’t know. They didn’t know about the cigarettes, the way you craved the sharp edge they gave your frayed nerves, the way they dulled the ache that nothing else seemed to touch.

The wine in your veins and the hollowness in your chest made you not give a fuck.

You ignored the glances from the others. Astoria’s subtle frown, Pansy’s raised brow, even Blaise’s brief look of surprise. None of them said anything, though. Perhaps they could sense that this wasn’t the time to pry, or maybe they were just too shocked to find the same girl who used to chastise Theo for his smoking now doing the very thing she’d hated. The only one who didn’t seem remotely surprised was Theo.His gaze locked onto you immediately, his expression unreadable. You felt the weight of it, sharp and piercing, as you took another drag. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, though. You focused instead on the fire, on the way the embers popped and sparked against the night, on the rhythmic rise and fall of your own breath.

But you could feel him watching you. Not with judgement, not with pity, but with something else entirely—something that made your skin prickle and your heart ache all at once.

“Didn’t know you smoked, Y/N.” Blaise finally said, breaking the silence. His tone was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind his words.

You exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift away before answering. “There’s a lot you don’t know.” you said simply, your voice calm but distant.

“Clearly.” Pansy chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied you. “What’s next? You’re going to tell us you’ve taken up gambling?”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Not yet.” you replied, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at your lips.

The group laughed, the tension easing slightly, but the moment didn’t feel any lighter to you. The cigarette burned between your fingers, a bitter comfort, as you leaned back in your chair and stared up at the dark sky.

Theo’s voice cut through the chatter, low and measured. “Thought you hated smoking.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, one laced with an undercurrent of emotion that only you could grasp.

You froze for a heartbeat, the cigarette hovering near your lips, before taking another drag and exhaling slowly. “Things change.” you said quietly, refusing to look at him.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Theo didn’t push further, but you could feel his gaze lingering, pressing against you like a touch you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Anyway…” Astoria said brightly, clearly desperate to shift the mood, “Who’s up for another round of wine?”

The others murmured their agreement, the conversation picking back up as the bottle was passed around again. You stayed quiet, the cigarette slowly burning to its end as you stared into the flames.

Across the fire, Theo kept watching you.

As the night deepened, the alcohol began to take its toll. Laughter grew louder, gestures more exaggerated, and the conversations turned increasingly ridiculous. Astoria was the first to start giggling uncontrollably, leaning heavily into Draco as she slurred something about how he was “too perfect for words.” Draco smirked, the kind of self-satisfied grin that only he could pull off, before helping her to her feet.

“Well.” he said, clearly amused, “I think someone needs to call it a night.”

Astoria protested weakly, but her flushed cheeks and half-closed eyes betrayed her exhaustion—or at least her inebriation. The two of them disappeared into the house, Draco’s hand resting lightly on the small of her back.

That was all it took for the others to follow suit.

Blaise stretched dramatically, letting out an exaggerated yawn as Daphne rolled her eyes but still stood with him. “Time to get some rest.” he announced, though his smirk told a very different story.

“Rest?” Pansy snorted, clearly not buying it.

“Shut it, Pans.” Blaise shot back, his smirk widening as Daphne tugged on his arm, steering him toward the manor.

Mattheo and Pansy weren’t far behind, though their departure was accompanied by far less subtlety. “Come on, love.” Mattheo murmured, his voice low and suggestive as he lifted Pansy effortlessly off her feet, making her squeal with laughter.

“Absolutely not.” she objected, though her arms were already looping around his neck. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance.” he replied with a grin, carrying her off toward the house without so much as a glance back.

And just like that, the once lively circle around the fire dwindled to two.

You and Theo.

The fire crackled softly, the only sound breaking the stillness that now enveloped the garden. You leaned back in your chair, gripping your empty wine glass as though it might anchor you somehow, your gaze fixed firmly on the dying embers.

You didn’t have to look to know Theo was still there. You could feel his presence, sharp and unavoidable, just a few feet away.

“Guess it’s just us now.” he said, his voice low and even.

You glanced at him,  unable to help yourself. He was lounging in his chair, as calm and composed as ever, but there was something in his expression—a flicker of tension that made your chest heave.

“Seems that way.” you replied quietly, your voice carrying a faint edge.

The silence that followed was thick, charged with everything that had been left unsaid between you. The fire burned lower, the orange glow dimming as the night stretched on, and still neither of you moved. You hated this—hated the way he could make you feel so unsteady, so raw, with just his presence. Hated the way your chest ached every time you looked at him, a painful reminder of all the things you’d tried and failed to forget.

But most of all, you hated the way some part of you was glad it was just the two of you now.You sneaked another glance at Theo, only to see him pull a cigarette from his pocket. The motion was unhurried, almost lethargic, as he tapped it against the carton before placing it between his lips.

The faint flicker of his lighter caught your eye, the soft glow illuminating his face for a moment as he lit the cigarette with practised ease. He took a slow drag, the ember flaring bright against the darkness, and exhaled a stream of smoke that curled lazily into the air.

You couldn’t help but watch him. The way his long fingers held the cigarette, the slight tilt of his head as he blew out the smoke—it was captivating in a way you hadn’t expected, your breath catching before you forced yourself to look away.

“Are you going to tell me off for it again?”

His voice broke the silence, low and laced with a faint hint of amusement. You glanced back at him, only to find his eyes on you now, sharp and curious, as if he’d been waiting for your reaction.

You shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back in your chair. “No.” you said simply.

He raised a brow at that, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Really? No lecture about how it’s a disgusting habit? Or how I’m going to ruin my lungs?”

You met his gaze, your expression unreadable. “I’m not exactly in a position to judge anymore.”

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your own cigarette and lighter, ignoring the way his smirk faltered slightly. You lit it with a soft click, inhaling deeply before exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

Theo’s eyes widened slightly, the surprise flickering across his face before it quickly vanished, replaced by something more guarded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied you, the cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers.

“When did that start?” Theo asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with curiosity.

You shrugged, taking another slow drag of your cigarette. The smoke curled upwards from your lips as you exhaled, your eyes fixed on the glowing embers of the fire. “A short while after we broke up.” you admitted, your tone calm but distant, as if the words didn’t bother you as much as they did.

His brow furrowed slightly at your response, and for the first time that night, the carefully guarded mask he always wore seemed to slip just a fraction. He didn’t respond immediately, instead taking another drag from his own cigarette, his gaze flickering to the fire before returning to you.

“Didn’t think I’d be such a bad influence.” he said finally, his tone dry but lacking the usual sharp edge.

You gave a faint, humourless chuckle. “You weren’t.” you replied simply, tapping the ash from your cigarette. ��It wasn’t about you. Not entirely.”

Theo tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Not entirely?” he echoed, his voice low, almost cautious.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you stared up at the night sky. The stars were faint, their light muted by the glow of the fire and the lingering smoke that hung in the air. “It was… everything.” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now. “The breakup. The mess it left me in. The way it felt like nothing else worked to fill the silence.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the dying fire crackling between you. You didn’t look at Theo, didn’t want to see the expression on his face. It was hard enough to admit it, to give voice to the hollow ache you’d carried for far too long.

“That’s why you do it?” He asked finally, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “Because it reminds you of me.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, sharp and unrelenting. You turned to look at him then, your breath catching at the way his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching and raw in a way that left you feeling exposed.

“It’s not that simple.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Isn’t it?” he asked, his tone softer but still insistent.

You shook your head, turning away again. “No. It’s not.”

Theo leaned back in his chair, exhaling a slow stream of smoke as he studied you in silence. “So why keep doing it?” he asked finally.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you took another drag of your cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling it slowly. When you finally spoke, your voice was steady but felt foreign, as though you were speaking about someone else entirely.

“Because sometimes, it’s the only thing that feels real.” you said quietly. “The burn. The taste. The way it makes everything else fade for a little while.”

Theo didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and searching. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N.”

The words hung in the air between you, raw and unguarded, cutting through the smoke and silence like a blade. You turned to look at him then, your heart clenching painfully at the way his usual composure seemed to crumble, just slightly, around the edges. For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo looked vulnerable.

“I know.” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire. “We were both at fault.”

The admission felt heavy on your tongue, but it was true. You’d spent so much time blaming him for the pain, for the fallout, that you’d almost forgotten the ways you had contributed to the mess. The silence, the assumptions, the stubbornness that kept you from reaching out when it mattered most. The stillness that followed was worse than any argument you two had ever had before. Theo looked away first, his gaze falling to the fire as he took another drag from his cigarette. The ember glowed brightly in the dim light, casting a fleeting warmth across his sharp features. And still, neither of you moved to leave.

A burst of laughter carried across the night air, high and distant. You turned instinctively toward the mansion, catching the faint echo of Astoria’s giggles. The soft hum of voices followed, muffled by the grand walls of Malfoy Manor but still audible enough to remind you of what was happening inside. You could picture it vividly and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy twist in your chest. Not at them, not specifically. It wasn’t Astoria or Daphne or Pansy you envied. It was the ease. The simplicity of their happiness. The way they could exist without the weight of the past dragging them down, without the constant reminder of what could have been. And here you were, sulking around the fire with your ex, smoke curling between you like a barrier you didn’t know how to cross. Your attention shifted back to Theo, drawn by the subtle movement of him standing. He stubbed out his cigarette against the armrest of his chair before stepping forward, using his foot to scatter the embers of the fire. The dying glow of the flames cast shadows across his face, emphasising the lines of his jaw and the faint crease between his brows.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice breaking the quiet.

He didn’t look at you, his focus on the fire as he pressed the embers into the dirt. “Putting it out.” he said simply, his tone neutral.

“Because it’s late.” he replied, finally glancing your way. His gaze lingered for a moment, unreadable, before he added, “Why? Would you rather sit out here sulking all night?”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking toward the softly lit windows of the mansion in the distance. The distant giggles and murmurs carried faintly on the breeze, a reminder of exactly what was happening inside.

“Do you really want to go back right now?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Theo raised a brow, clearly catching the hint in your voice. “Yeah, why not?” he said, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone. His smirk widened slightly as he tilted his head, studying you. “Unless…” He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air before his eyes narrowed playfully. “Are you jealous, Y/N?”

Your head whipped around, your mouth opening to protest immediately. “Jealous? Of course not.” you snapped, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed you. “Why would I be jealous of… of that?”

Theo chuckled softly, his deep laugh low and knowing as he straightened. “Sure you’re not.”

“I’m not.” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him, though it only seemed to amuse him further.

He took a step closer, the smirk still tugging at his lips. “You’ve got a terrible poker face, you know.”

You sighed heavily, the fight draining out of you as you glanced back toward the mansion. “Fine.” you muttered, reluctantly. “Maybe I am. Just… a little.”

He didn’t tease you this time. Instead, his expression softened, the humour in his eyes giving way to something more understanding.

“Come on.” he said, nudging you lightly with his hand. “We’re going for a walk then.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden suggestion. “What?”

Theo gestured toward the shadowed path that led deeper into the Malfoy gardens. “You’re not going back in there, not like this. And I’m not about to sit around while you mope about whatever nonsense is running through your head.”

“I’m not moping.” you argued half-heartedly, but he was already walking away, his long strides carrying him toward the path.

“You coming or not?” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.

You hesitated for only a moment before sighing and following after him.You walked beside Theo, your hands slipping into the deep pockets of your oversized hoodie as the cool night air wrapped around you. The quiet crunch of gravel beneath your feet filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not yet. Theo glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips, breaking the stillness.

You frowned, your head turning to him with suspicion. “What are you laughing at now?” you grumbled, your voice carrying more irritation than you felt.

He didn’t respond immediately, his smirk growing as he nodded toward you. “That hoodie.” he said, amusement lacing his tone.

You blinked, looking down at yourself, confused. “What about it?”

“That’s mine.” he said simply, the smugness in his voice unmistakable.

You froze mid-step, the realisation hitting you like a gust of wind. Your heart sank as you recognized the worn fabric, the familiar scent of him that still lingered faintly in the material. You cursed yourself internally for not even thinking about it when you’d grabbed it earlier.

“Shit.” you muttered under your breath, your cheeks heating.

Theo’s chuckle deepened as he stopped and turned to face you fully, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his trousers. “Didn’t think you were so sentimental, Y/N.” he teased, though there was a softness in his tone that you couldn’t quite place.

You glared at him, tugging the hoodie closer around you defensively. “I didn’t even realise, okay? I just… grabbed it.”

He raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure you did.”

You sighed heavily, your gaze dropping to the ground. The memory of when he’d given you the hoodie tugged at the edges of your mind, unbidden but vivid. It had been almost two years ago, during a late night in the common room after everyone else had gone to bed. You’d been complaining about how cold it was, wrapping yourself in a blanket that didn’t do much to help.

Without a word, Theo had pulled off his hoodie and tossed it to you, muttering something about how you were “hopeless.” You’d teased him at the time, but you hadn’t given it back. And he hadn’t asked for it, either.

Now, standing here in the dark with him staring at you, that memory felt closer than it should.

“You want it back?” you asked finally, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

Theo shook his head, the smirk fading into something softer as he glanced down at the hoodie. “Keep it.” he said, his voice low. “Looks better on you anyway.”

Your heart stuttered at his words, but you quickly pushed the feeling away, rolling your eyes for good measure. “Whatever.” you muttered, shoving your hands deeper into the pockets as you started walking again.

Theo followed after you, a quiet laugh escaping him. “Can’t believe you’ve been wearing it this whole time.” he said, his tone lighter now, teasing but not unkind. “Didn’t think you were the type to hold on to old things.”

“I’m not.” you shot back, refusing to meet his gaze. “I just didn’t feel like wasting money on a new one.”

“Right.” he drawled, clearly not buying your excuse.

The crunch of gravel underfoot filled the silence between you as the two of you walked deeper into the gardens. You could feel Theo’s presence beside you, steady and familiar, but your thoughts were far away, tangled in memories you didn’t want to revisit.

“You gonna tell me about Dennis, or do I have to guess?”

His voice wasow and appeared casual but carried enough weight to make your shoulders tense.

You stopped mid-step, glancing at him with narrowed eyes. “What about Dennis?” you asked, your tone defensive.

Theo shrugged, his hands still stuffed into his pockets. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you two aren’t together anymore?” His brow arched slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not exactly subtle back there when you told everyone.”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking, your hands tightening in the pockets of his hoodie. “There’s nothing to tell.” you said flatly.

“Come on, Y/N.” he pressed, his tone softer now, less teasing. “You were with the guy for months. What happened?”

You hesitated, your steps slowing as you debated how much to say. The breakup was still fresh, the wound not quite healed, but there was something about the way Theo asked—genuine, even if his curiosity was layered with his usual smugness—that made you feel like he wouldn’t let it go.

“He ended it.” you admitted finally, your voice quiet but even.

Theo’s brows furrowed slightly as he glanced at you. “Why?”

You let out a soft, humourless laugh, shaking your head as you stared ahead at the shadowed path. ���Because he figured out what I was too afraid to admit. That I wasn’t over…” You trailed off, your stomach twisting as the words caught in your throat.

There was a long pause, the kind that stretched uncomfortably but wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Theo didn’t say anything right away, and when you finally glanced at him, his expression was unreadable.

“Me.” he said quietly, almost like a statement rather than a question.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze dropping to the ground as your stomach churned with a mix of frustration and something you couldn’t name. “Don’t flatter yourself, Theodore.” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

He let out a soft chuckle, but it lacked his usual confidence. “I wasn’t trying to.” he said, his voice low.

Silence fell between you two once again. Theo stopped walking, and when you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore, you turned to face him. His eyes were dark, focused on you in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Did you love him?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. The answer rose in your chest before you could stop it, but it wasn’t one you wanted to give. Finally, you shook your head, exhaling softly. “No.” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t.”

Theo’s expression softened slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he nodded. “That’s what I thought.” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” he said lightly, though his tone carried a sternness you couldn’t ignore. “Just… I always knew you couldn’t fake it.”

His words lingered in the air between you as his gaze held yours. You hated how easily he could read you, how his words had a way of hitting exactly where they weren’t supposed to.

“Dennis is a good guy.” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “He didn’t deserve to be with someone who was only half there.”

Theo tilted his head slightly, his smirk fading into something more serious. “Maybe he didn’t. But that’s not on you, Y/N.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze dropping to the ground as your hands tightened into fists in the pockets of his hoodie. For once, Theo didn’t push. Instead, he stepped closer, his shoulder brushing yours lightly as he started walking again.

“Come on.” he said, his voice softer now. “Let’s keep moving.”

You followed him without a word, the quiet night wrapping around you both as you walked side by side.

You hesitated for a moment before breaking the silence, your voice careful but laced with curiosity. “What about you?”

Theo glanced at you, one brow arching slightly. “What about me?”

“Have you been in a relationship?” you asked, your tone as casual as you could manage. You kept your eyes ahead, pretending you weren’t entirely invested in his answer.

For a moment, Theo didn’t respond, his silence louder than any words.

You pressed on, a faint smirk tugging at your lips despite yourself. “I mean, I’ve seen you around plenty of girls. But none of them ever seemed to stick. Why is that?”

He let out a soft laugh, though it was more defensive than amused. “You’ve been paying attention, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “We are in the same friend group, I see it without needing to look.”

Theo’s steps slowed slightly, his gaze falling to the ground as he ran a hand through his hair. For once, he seemed caught off guard, his usual smirk nowhere to be found.

“Maybe I just haven’t found the right person.” he said finally, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant.

You glanced at him, frowning slightly at the shift in his tone. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” you teased lightly, though the look on his face made your chest tighten.

Theo sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kept walking. “It’s not that simple.” he muttered.

You tilted your head, watching him closely. “Why not?”

He stopped then, turning to face you fully, and for a moment, you swore he looked almost… vulnerable. His usual mask of confidence and indifference had cracked, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something raw beneath the surface.

“Because.” he started, his voice low and hesitant, “nobody else…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he looked away, his gaze fixed on a distant point in the darkness.

“Nobody else what?” you asked softly, your heart pounding as you took a step closer.

Theo exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Nobody else could replace you.” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. You stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest as you tried to process what he’d just said.

Theo’s gaze flicked back to you then, his expression guarded but his eyes betraying the depth of his emotions. “Happy now?” he asked lightly, though his voice lacked its usual edge. “That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Theo…”

He held up a hand, cutting you off. “Don’t…” he said, his tone firmer now. “I didn’t say it so you’d feel sorry for me.”

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.

Theo let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he started walking again. “Forget I said anything.”

But you couldn’t forget. Theo’s movements were different now. No longer slow and lazy, no longer calculated and confident. His hands shook slightly as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, the lighter flaring unsteadily in the dark. The sharp glow lit up his face for a moment, and for the first time that night, he looked completely exposed. Vulnerable. He didn’t say anything as he took a deep drag, but the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers twitched around the cigarette—it was obvious he was trying to hold himself together. But he wasn’t. Not really.Without a word, Theo pushed ahead of you, his strides long and purposeful, the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. He didn’t look back, his shoulders stiff as though bracing himself against something unseen.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as you stared after him. His words still echoed in your mind, raw and unfiltered, unravelling something deep within you.

Nobody else could replace you. You didn’t know how to feel. Guilty? Relieved? Angry? Everything tangled together in a mess of emotions you couldn’t name, couldn’t tame. All you knew was that you couldn’t let him walk away like this.

With a shaky breath, you hurried after him, your footsteps crunching against the gravel. “Theo, wait.” you called, but he didn’t stop.

His shoulders tensed further at the sound of your voice, his hand lifting the cigarette to his mouth for another sharp inhale. The smoke curled around him, a barrier he was trying to erect between you, but you weren’t about to let it stand.

“Damn it, Theodore!” you snapped, reaching for him.

Your fingers caught his arm, and he stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a look that made your breath catch in your throat. His cigarette hung loosely between his lips, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. His eyes were wide, burning with a mix of anger and pain, and something else—something that made your heart flutter. For all his sharp edges, Theo had always been able to hide behind his smirk, his sarcasm, his infuriating charm. But now, all of that was gone, stripped away to reveal the raw truth beneath. He looked… lost.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said finally, his voice low and rough. “I’ve been trying to forget. I’ve been trying to move on. But every fucking time, it’s you. It’s always you.”

The words struck you like a blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to respond. All you knew was the weight of his gaze, the raw vulnerability in his voice, and the ache in your chest that had been growing since the day you lost him. Your gaze dropped to the cigarette in his mouth, the bitter smell of smoke filling the small space between you. Without thinking, you reached up, plucking it from his lips and tossing it to the ground. His eyes widened in surprise, but you didn’t stop.Standing on your tiptoes, you closed the distance between you, your hands grabbing the front of his shirt as your lips crashed into his. It was intense, all-consuming, every ounce of anger, pain, and longing pouring into the kiss. For a moment, Theo didn’t move, frozen in shock. But then his hands found your waist, gripping you tightly as he kissed you back, his movements desperate, hungry, like he’d been waiting for this as long as you had. The world seemed to blur around you, the night fading into nothing as you pressed yourself against him. His lips were warm, familiar, and the way he kissed you—it was like he was trying to say all the things he hadn’t been able to put into words.

I still love you.

The thought crashed over you like a wave, and you tightened your grip on his shirt, pulling him closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, the ache in your soul finally easing as the walls between you crumbled. Theo’s hands slid up your back, one of them tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his breath mingling with yours. He kissed you like he was afraid to stop, like he was afraid this moment would slip away if he let go. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as the silence wrapped around you again.

“I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

“Shut up.” he growled lowly, his voice rough and desperate, sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could react, his lips crashed onto yours again, fiercer this time, more demanding.

Your body melted into his, the intensity of the kiss igniting a fire deep within you. His hand tightened in your hair, the other gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. This wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything. Every argument, every hurt, every word you’d left unsaid. Every moment you’d spent trying to forget him, only to fail. It all came rushing back, raw and unrelenting, as if your souls were trying to bridge the chasm you’d created between you.

You didn’t even realise your hands were moving until they slid down his chest, resting on his lower stomach. Theo’s abdomen flexed under your touch, muscles coiling tight as he groaned into the kiss. The sound vibrated through you, making your knees weaken. You clung to him, nails digging into his skin as he pinned you hard against the cold stone wall of the Malfoy manor garden. Your bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, curves moulding perfectly as the heat of your bodies merged into one. You felt the thick ridge of his growing erection pressing insistently against your belly, and a needy whimper escaped your throat. Theo broke the kiss, panting harshly as he stared down at you with wild, desperate eyes. 

“Tell me you want this.” Theo demanded, his voice ragged and trembling with barely restrained emotion. His hands gripped your waist firmly, grounding you, as though afraid you might slip away before he could hear the answer. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The words weren’t just a demand; they were a plea. His eyes, dark and burning, searched yours with an intensity that left you breathless. Vulnerability hung in the air between you, raw and unguarded, cutting through the desperation like a blade. But you didn’t hesitate.

Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt as you surged forward, wrapping your legs around his waist in one swift motion as you jumped up. He caught you instinctively, his arms tightening around you with a strength that made your heart race. Instead of answering with words, you crushed your lips into his, the kiss fevered and consuming. It was the only answer your brain could come up with, the only way you could convey the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His response was immediate. His hands slid to the curve of your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulled you impossibly close. He kissed you like it was the last thing he would ever do, like the world might fall apart if he let go. The heat between you was electric, your body pressing against his as his lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. Every ounce of tension, every unresolved feeling, every unspoken word came pouring out in the way his hands roamed your body, the way his breath mingled with yours.

You gasped softly as his teeth grazed your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips moved to your jawline, then to the sensitive skin just below your ear, his voice a low growl as he murmured, “Say it.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers threading into his hair as your heart pounded in your chest. “Theo…”

“Say it.” he demanded again, his voice rough and desperate, his hands tightening their hold on you.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes locking with his. The raw intensity in his gaze made your knees weak, even as his arms kept you steady.

“I want this.” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute. “I want you. I am yours.”

Theo's eyes flashed with triumph and relief, his grip on your bare thighs.“Mine.“ He breathed, the single syllable a vow, a declaration, a promise. His hands roamed your body with renewed urgency, caressing, claiming, branding you as his own.Every brush of his fingers ignited something within you, a fire that had been dormant for far too long.

“You have no idea how much I've needed to hear you say that.” he muttered, his voice rough and unsteady as he buried his face in the curve of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips found your collarbone, trailing fiery kisses along the sensitive line as his fingers slipped under the hem of your light summer dress, hidden beneath the oversized hoodie. The fabric bunched beneath his touch as he slid his hands higher, his thumbs brushing against the bare skin of your ass with an aching tenderness that contrasted the raw hunger in his movements.

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling into his hair as you tilted your head back, giving him more access. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt like a balm to the wounds you’d both been carrying. 

“Theo…” you whispered, his name a plea, a prayer, a surrender.“Not here…”

“You’re right” he breathed his heart pounding with every syllable.

Theodor’s eyes never left yours, their fervour unrelenting as he began moving, his strides purposeful and hurried. The gravel crunched beneath his boots as he carried you through the shadowed garden, the cool night air brushing against your skin where his hands weren’t already burning their way into you.

You barely registered the shift in scenery, too consumed by the heat of his touch, the dizzying press of his body against yours. But when the faint glow of lights from Malfoy manor appeared ahead, reality intruded just enough for you to pull back slightly, your breath coming in gasps.

“What’s your plan?” you whispered, your voice shaky, though not from hesitation. 

“To my room here.” he muttered, his voice low and ragged. “I’m not in the mood for the others finding us like this.”

The thought of being caught sent a thrill through you, though you knew he was right. You tightened your arms around his neck, leaning into him as he navigated the winding garden paths. His movements were quick, almost frantic, yet he carried you as though you weighed nothing, his grip on you secure and unwavering.

The glow of the manor grew brighter as he approached, the grand building towering above you like a silent witness to what was unfolding. You couldn’t stop yourself from studying Theo’s face as he walked, the tension in his jaw, the way his brows furrowed in concentration. He looked so different from the Theo you’d known in the past—hardened, raw, but still achingly familiar.

The two of you slipped inside through a side entrance, the cool marble of the manor floor muffling his hurried footsteps. The distant echoes of laughter and conversation from the others reached your ears faintly, but Theo paid them no mind, his focus entirely on you.

His lips found your neck as he ascended the stairs, the faint scrape of his teeth against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt once again as he carried you through the hallways with a confidence born from familiarity.

When he finally pushed open the door to his guest room, the soft click of the lock echoed in the quiet space. The moment the door closed, he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as if reluctant to let go.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence charged with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. The faint light from the window cast shadows across Theodore’s face, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw, the vulnerability in his eyes that he no longer tried to hide.

“You’re sure?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you met his gaze. “Theodore Nott, I haven’t slept with another man since we broke up. Of course I am sure.” you said, your voice steady despite the rapid beat of your heart.

A shaky breath escaped him, and then his lips were on yours again, the kiss deeper, more deliberate this time. His hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him as the tension between you snapped like a tightly drawn string. In the quiet sanctuary of his room, with only the faint moonlight as witness, you allowed yourself to fall completely, surrendering to the moment and to him.

“You haven’t slept with Dennis?” Theo grumbled as he pushed you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes roaming your figure.

You only managed to shake your head as your fingers quickly worked on unzipping your hoodie.

“Good.” Theo growled approvingly, watching intently as you shed your clothes. His own garments joined hers on the floor in a rush of movement, leaving you both bare and wanting. He loomed over you, his muscular frame casting a shadow across your skin, his heavy arousal jutting proudly from between his thighs. 

Theodore leaned down, capturing your lips in a gentle, exploratory kiss. His tongue swept across your mouth, tasting your sweetness, while his hands began to roam your body once more. They traced the curves of your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, before sliding down to cup her hips. Gripping you gently, he rolled his pelvis in a slow, teasing circle, grinding his length against your core. You moaned into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into him. Breaking the kiss, Theo trailed his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. Every touch of Theo’s hands felt achingly familiar, yet somehow entirely different. There was a softness to his movements, a deliberateness that hadn’t been there before, as though he was rediscovering you with a reverence that made your heart ache. The way his fingers trailed against your skin, the quiet intensity in his gaze—it was all so electrifying, so much more than you’d remembered. It was as if the time apart had sharpened everything, making each shared moment feel more vivid, more real, more right than it ever had before. Reaching down, Theo guided himself to your entrance, the swollen head of his cock parting your slick folds. With a low groan, he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful yet calculated stroke. You moaned out, your back arching off the mattress as you adjusted to his size. Theo stilled, giving you a moment to acclimate, his face a mask of concentration and tenderness. 

“Are you okay, amore?” he whispered, his voice low and gentle, cutting through the charged silence like a soothing balm.

The nickname made your cheeks flush, warmth spreading across your face in a way that caught you completely off guard. You’d heard him call you that a million times before, the word slipping so easily from his lips in the past. But now, it felt entirely new. It wasn’t just a word anymore; it was a promise, a reassurance, a reminder of everything that had been and everything that still lingered between you. Theo smiled at your reaction, pleased by the blush staining your cheeks.

“I'm better than okay.”  You managed to breathe out, your body shivering as his hands glided over your sides to settle on your hips once more. 

“So beautiful…”  Theodore groaned softly, punctuating his words with a slow, deliberate thrust, withdrawing almost completely before sinking back into your warmth. 

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure rippled through you like lightning. Leaning down, Theo captured your lips in another deep, sensual kiss, his hips finding a steady rhythm. As he explored the wet heat of your mouth, his fingers found your nipples once more, rolling and tugging gently until they hardened against his palms. Breaking the kiss, he gazed into your eyes, his own darkened with desire. 

“Tell me what feels good, amore.” he urged, his voice a husky whisper, thick with both longing and vulnerability. “Guide me.” 

The words sent a shiver through you, not because of their intensity, but because of the way he said them—so raw, so open, as though he was offering every piece of himself in that moment. His gaze held yours, unrelenting yet tender, and you could feel his sincerity settle over you like a blanket. It wasn’t just a plea; it was an invitation, a chance to bridge the distance that had once separated you, to rewrite the way your story had ended. Your heart swelled at the raw emotion in his words, your own vulnerability mirroring his. You reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until your foreheads touched.

“Touch me.” you whispered breathlessly, your breath mingling with his.You guided his hand lower, to where your bodies were joined, urging him to experiment, to explore the sensitive places only he knew. As his fingers danced over your clit, you bucked your hips against him, a low moan escaping your lips. 

“That's it, don’t stop… please.”  you panted, your hips rocking in time with his. Theo obliged your pleas, his touch growing more confident, more insistent, driven by your pleas and the desperate need burning within him.

Theodore’s touch was like lightning, electrifying and all-consuming, igniting a fire under your skin that you hadn’t known could burn so brightly. Every brush of his fingers, every deliberate movement sent waves of pure ecstasy coursing through you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. It wasn’t just the sensation—it was the way he made you feel cherished, like every part of you mattered in a way that was almost overwhelming.

Theo's fingers continued their relentless assault on your clit, each stroke combined with his harsh thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He watched you closely, drinking in the sight of your flushed skin, your parted lips, your wild hair splayed across the pillow. 

“You feel so good.” he breathed, his own arousal throbbing inside you in time with your quickening heartbeat. “I want to see you lose control, Y/N.” As if to prove his point, he increased the pressure, rubbing firm circles around your sensitive nub, his thrusts becoming harsher, deeper, needier. Your back arched off the bed, a high-pitched whine tearing from your throat as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. 

“Don't stop, Theo.” you begged, your voice a ragged whisper. 

A tidal wave of pleasure bubbled inside you, building with an intensity that was almost too much to contain. Every moment, every touch, sent it climbing higher, threatening to overflow and consume you completely. It was overwhelming in the best way—like you were teetering on the edge of something profound, a rush of warmth and light ready to break free. Your heart raced, your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but surrender to the sheer bliss of it all, letting it wash over you like a sunrise breaking through the darkness. For Theo, the pleasure wasn’t just in the moment—it was in you. Every expression of pleasure, every soft sound you made under him, every way you moved drew him in deeper, until he was utterly consumed. It bubbled inside him like a fire threatening to escape, an immense, overwhelming rush that made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in so long. The way you looked at him, the trust in your eyes as he made love to you, made it all the more intense. His chest tightened, his breath catching as the sensation surged, flooding him with a kind of bliss he never thought he deserved but couldn’t bear to let go of. With a growl of primal satisfaction, Theo slammed into you one final time, grinding his pelvis against yours as he reached his peak. The sensation of his release triggered your own climax, your body seizing up as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name,not caring who would hear, your voice hoarse with ecstasy, as you clung to him desperately, your nails raking down his back. Theo collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving against yours, his forehead pressed to your shoulder. 

For a long while, you lay entwined, your hearts pounding in perfect sync, the rhythm of your breathing gradually steadying as the world around you faded into stillness. The only sound was the soft, shared cadence of your breaths, filling the quiet room with a soothing, unspoken connection. It was as though the world beyond these walls had ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you suspended in this fragile, perfect moment.

Finally, Theo lifted his head, his captivating blue eyes locking onto yours with a look so full of tenderness, that made you fall for him once again. There was no smirk, no guarded expression—just pure, unfiltered emotion, the kind that made you feel as though he was seeing straight through to the deepest parts of you. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch featherlight, hesitant even, as though he feared you might vanish if he held on too tightly.

“I missed you… I missed this.” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, as though the words themselves were sacred.

His gaze searched yours, desperate, almost pleading, as though he needed to know you felt the same. His words struck something deep within you, breaking open the dam you hadn’t even realised you’d built. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, grounding him as much as yourself.

“I missed you too.” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “More than I ever let myself admit.”

Theo closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling a shaky breath as though your words had lifted some unbearable weight from his chest. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart stutter.Slowly, he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, the closeness bringing a sense of calm that felt unshakable.

“I’m not letting you go again.” he murmured, the words a vow, raw and unyielding. “Not this time. Not ever.”

~~~

The soft golden light of morning spilled through the curtains, casting long, gentle streaks across the room. The quiet hum of the world waking up outside was barely audible, muffled by the stillness that lingered within these walls. You stirred slowly, the comforting warmth wrapped around you relaxing you before you even opened your eyes. It took a moment for the memories of the previous night to settle, but when they did, your heart fluttered with a mix of emotions—love, relief, and something that felt a lot like hope.

Beside you, Theo was still asleep, his breathing deep and even. You turned your head slightly, your gaze falling on him. His face was relaxed, his features softer in sleep, free from the guarded scowl he so often wore. You watched him for a moment, taking in the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hand rested lightly on the bed between you, as if even in sleep, he didn’t want to be far from you.

It was strange—comforting, even—how natural this felt, as though the rift that had once separated you was a distant memory, something you both had decided, consciously or not, to leave in the past.For the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in your chest was gone, replaced by a quiet, steady warmth that spread through you like the sunlight outside. You let out a soft sigh, the sound barely breaking the stillness, and closed your eyes again, savouring the moment for just a little while longer.

Eventually, you sat up slowly, careful not to wake Theo as you turned to look at him properly. You traced the lines of his jaw with your eyes, the faint shadow of stubble there, the soft curve of his lips. His lashes were long, darker than you’d remembered, and they brushed lightly against his skin. Leaning in slowly, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your lips barely brushing his skin. He stirred slightly, a soft humm escaping him as he began waking up.

“Sleep a little longer.” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as though afraid to disturb the fragile tranquillity of the moment.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, doing your best to keep your movements quiet. The floor was cool beneath your feet as you tiptoed across the room, gathering your scattered belongings and slipping into the oversized hoodie you had worn last night.

The manor was quiet as you made your way back to your own guest room, the only sounds around you being the faint creaks of the wooden floorboards and the distant chirping of birds outside. Your heart raced with every step, half expecting someone to catch you in the hallway, though it seemed most of the house was still asleep.

When you finally reached your room, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the door for a moment to steady yourself. The memories of the night before rushed back in vivid detail, and you felt your cheeks flush as you hurriedly changed into fresh clothes.

By the time you made your way to the dining room for breakfast, the warm scent of coffee and pastries filled the air. The table was only partially occupied—Astoria and Draco sat close, whispering and smiling, while Blaise and Daphne were still nursing cups of tea, their expressions relaxed but tired.

You slid into a chair quietly, keeping your movements casual as you poured yourself some coffee. You could feel their gazes on you, especially Astoria’s, her sharp eyes studying you with a hint of curiosity.

“Morning.” Blaise said, his voice smooth but tinged with amusement. “You’re up early.”

You shrugged, keeping your tone light. “Couldn’t sleep.” you lied, reaching for a slice of toast. “Figured I’d get a head start.”

Astoria raised a delicate brow, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” she repeated, her tone light but teasing.

You avoided her gaze, focusing on spreading jam over your toast. “Something like that.” you said, hoping the flush in your cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Draco smirked from his seat beside Astoria but said nothing, his gaze flickering briefly toward the doorway as though expecting someone else to join the table. You forced yourself to act as if nothing had happened, though the events of last night lingered in your mind, a secret you weren’t ready to share. As you sipped your hot coffee, you couldn’t help but wonder how long Theo would sleep—and how long you could keep this new shift between you hidden.

The quiet hum of breakfast was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by Pansy’s unmistakable voice cutting through the air.

“Well, well.” she drawled, her tone teasing as she swept into the room with Mattheo trailing lazily behind her. “Looks like some of us managed to survive the night without too much trouble.”

Mattheo yawned loudly, ruffling his already messy hair as he flopped into a chair with all the grace of a toppled tower. “Speak for yourself.” he muttered, reaching immediately for the coffee. “I’m still half-dead.”

Pansy rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, sliding into the seat beside him with her usual flair. Her sharp gaze scanned the table, pausing briefly on you before moving on. You kept your expression neutral, biting into your toast to avoid meeting her eyes.

“Where’s Theo?” Mattheo mumbled, his voice muffled by the mug he was now sipping from.

Draco’s smirk deepened, his gaze flicking to you for the briefest moment before returning to his plate. “Probably still asleep.” he said casually, though the slight edge of amusement in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

Astoria hid a smile behind her teacup, while Daphne exchanged a knowing glance with Blaise. Blaise leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening as he lazily stirred his tea.

“Or recovering.” Blaise added, his tone light but unmistakably suggestive. “You know Theo—he likes to keep himself busy at night.”

You nearly choked on your coffee, the cup clinking awkwardly against the edge of your plate as you set it down a little too quickly. Your cheeks flushed a deep red, and you kept your eyes firmly on the table, refusing to look at anyone.

Astoria let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Really, Blaise?” she chided gently, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

“Just saying…” Blaise said with an exaggerated shrug, his gaze darting briefly to you before turning back to his tea.

Before you could recover, Mattheo yawned loudly once again, ruffling his messy hair as he leaned back in his chair. “Don’t blame the guy.” he drawled, his lips curling into a teasing grin. “Theo works hard when he’s… motivated.”

Pansy snorted, her sharp eyes darting between you and the others. “Motivated, huh?” she said, her tone dripping with mock innocence. Her gaze settled on you, her brow arching slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you, Y/N?”

Your head shot up, your wide eyes meeting hers as your face burned hotter. “Of course not.” you stammered, but the unconvincing tone of your voice only seemed to amuse them more.

Draco chuckled, his smirk widening as he gestured with his fork. “Relax, Y/N.” he said smoothly. “They’re just teasing.”

Pansy leaned her chin on her hand, her smile sly. “Are we?” she mused, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You groaned inwardly, picking up your coffee mug again in a vain attempt to hide behind it. Their teasing was almost unbearable, but even as you tried to brush it off, you couldn’t help but think of Theo and the events of the night before.

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and the unmistakable sound of Theo’s footsteps filled the room. He appeared in the doorway, his hair slightly tousled, his eyes heavy with sleep. His shirt was rumpled, and the faintest shadow of stubble clung to his jaw, making him look far more casual than usual.

You froze, your stomach flipping as his gaze swept across the table before landing on you. But unlike you, Theo looked entirely unbothered, even amused, by the attention.Without hesitation, he strode over to you, his hands moving to rest on your shoulders as he leaned down, pressing lazy, sleep-warmed kisses along your neck. The brush of his lips sent a shiver racing through you, and your cheeks flushed once again as the entire table fell into stunned silence.

“Didn’t see you in bed this morning.” he murmured, his voice husky and teasing, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Missed waking up next to you.”

Your face burned hotter than the sun, and you heard the faint sound of stifled giggles around the table. You didn’t dare look up, knowing you’d find Pansy’s smirk and Draco’s raised brow.

Blaise, of course, couldn’t resist. “Well, well, Theo. Didn’t know you were such a romantic.” he quipped, his grin practically oozing mischief.

Theo straightened, his hands sliding off your shoulders as he fixed Blaise with a pointed look. “And I didn’t know you were so interested in my love life.” he retorted smoothly, his tone light but carrying a subtle edge that made Blaise hold his hands up in mock surrender.

“Fair enough.” Blaise said, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair.

Theo moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, taking a slow sip before glancing back at you. “Come on.” he said casually, tilting his head toward the door. “Join me for a cigarette. It’s too early to deal with this lot.”

The invitation was so nonchalant, so unapologetic, that you could only nod silently, sliding out of your chair as the others exchanged amused glances.

Pansy’s voice followed you as you headed for the door. “Don’t take too long, lovebirds!”

You ignored her, keeping your head down as you followed Theo out into the garden, your cheeks still burning. The cool morning air brushed against your skin, soothing the heat in your face, and for the first time that morning, you found yourself smiling faintly despite the chaos inside.

Theo led you to a quiet corner of the garden, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a practised flick of his lighter. You did the same, the faint orange glow of the cigarettes matching the warmth of the rising sun.

He leaned back against the stone wall, his gaze fixed on you with a sleepy fondness that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers brushing yours as he leaned in to kiss you. It was slow, unhurried, and achingly tender, his lips lingering on yours as if savouring every second.

The peaceful silence was broken by faint voices drifting from the direction of the house. You could just make out Astoria’s unmistakable tone, laced with triumph.

“Told you they’d end up back together.” she said smugly.

“Oh, shut up.” Daphne groaned. “I’ll get you your galleons after breakfast.”

Theo pulled back slightly, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “They’re such goons.” His voice was soft and teasing, the words accompanied by the faintest smirk.

You laughed quietly, your forehead pressing against his as you shook your head. “They really are.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stood there, wrapped in the quiet morning air, the world around you fading into the background. Whatever came next, whatever teasing or chaos awaited inside, it didn’t matter. Right now, it was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, that felt like enough.

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© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.

[tusk-rumours]

hands *✩‧˚

sam winchester x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

summary: sam helps his girl relax with a massage.

warnings: smut, no use of 'deft' (@mxilkyways), soft sam.

a/n: i just want his massive hands on my hips. i fantasise about this far too often. also i cant be bothered proofreading anymore i’m hungover. apologies

She sat comfortably between Sam's legs, her back pressed up against his broad chest. He had his hands splayed across her stomach, his fingers tracing idly as he breathes softly into her ear. Tilting her head back, she grabbed his hands and placed them gently on her hips in a silent request. Sam's soft smile widens, knowing exactly what she wanted. God, he knew her like the back of his hand. He'd do anything for his girl.

She couldn't get enough of the way his big, warm hands grasp her hips so perfectly, how they press against so much skin, and how skilled his pretty fingers are at massaging her body. The two of them have done this so many times before, neither of them even have to say a word. He knows how much she loves this, and knows how good and relaxed it makes her feel. God knows she needs it from how much hunting the both of them have been doing recently.

Her own hands move to the waistband of her sleep shorts, lifting her hips just slightly to slip them off, discarding them on the bed as she then gets rid of her shirt (or, well, his shirt) too, so she sits there almost bare, leaving little fabric to get in the way for his hands to press against her skin. She lays back against his chest again, her bare back now feeling the soft material of his shirt. His breath can't help but catch at the sight of his lovely girl stripped to her panties, sitting in between his legs.

Once she settles, he slowly and gently presses his large, warm hands to the sides of her hips, adding pressure slowly. She immediately responds with a soft exhale, her eyes already fluttering shut in content as she melts against him. He starts to gently knead at her hips, and the tension she didn't even know was still in her body quickly ebbs away. He massages her skin gently, and the soft breaths and hums of content make him smile.

"Feel good, honey?" He murmurs into her ear, his hair brushing against her forehead.

"Mhm." A hum is the only response she can muster, before another, harsher breath leaves her lips, and Sam can't help but admire how her pretty lips part, her face relaxed in pure relaxation. He can't get over how it's his hands that get her like this, all blissed out and melted into a puddle.

He continues to knead at her hips, his fingers and the heels of his palms pressing into her sides at the perfect pressure, the feeling just so, so perfect.

The feeling of his chest against her back, his legs next to hers, his head and soft breaths right by her own, his hands on her hips, all in the quiet warmth of the motel room, is nothing short of bliss. When she lets out a low, gravelly hum that borders on a moan he chuckles softly, his lips brushing against her temple in a way that makes her shiver.

"That good, hm?" He asks, knowing full well what his hands on her hips like this does to her.

All she can do is nod, and her breath catches, constricting in her chest as one of his hands move, his fingers dancing along her stomach, down to the waistband of her panties. Her breathing instantly hitches, her fingers twitching against their place on his forearms. She squeezes her eyes shut at the light brush of his fingers above the waistband, a shaky breath fanning against his neck. A gentle nudge of his head against hers gets her to open her eyes, and when she does, he indicates with his own gaze to watch his movement. Slowly, his legs move to slide underneath the bend of her knees so her thighs are resting on top of his. He drags his legs further out, therefore spreading her legs out even more, a small whimper leaving her lips at the position, her clothed core now even more exposed to the cool air.

Without a word and only the soft sound of his breathing fanning across her bare shoulder, his fingers dip beneath her panties, just resting between her skin and the fabric as his other hand slides up from your hip to her chest, gently caressing and kneading one of her breasts. She lets out a soft, whimpery exhale, her face almost buried in his neck.

He kneads at the plush of her skin for a few moments, pressing soft kisses along her bare shoulder as he does, before his large palm slides back down to grasp at her hip, holding her tight against him as his fingers teasingly move just slightly further downwards, already feeling the heat of her arousal and her tenseness without even getting quite there yet.

"Relax, baby. You want me to make you feel good?" He whispers against her shoulder, the warmth of his breath and his words making her shudder.

She lets out a whimpery noise that resembles a hum of 'yes', nodding desperately against his chest. He smiles at this, pressing another soft, lingering kiss followed by a quicker one against the skin connecting her shoulder and neck.

"Okay, just relax for me, pretty girl."

When his fingers finally smooth downwards and into the wetness of her folds she shudders, her brows squeezing together, a shaky breath leaving her lips. He hums in approval against her shoulder, his own eyes shut as he drags the pads of his fingers up and down through her slick, collecting it on his fingers. Her sweet little breathy noises and laboured breaths fill his ears, and he soaks up every single one, relishing in how soft and needy he can get her.

His fingers find her clit with ease, starting with slow, gentle circles against it. She moans softly, one of her hands snaking up behind her to bury into his hair, the other grasping firmer at his forearm across her middle. Her legs twitch atop his, the sensations making her want to draw her legs closed, but with his knees hooked under hers keep her legs spread, she can't, and it only causes her to whine louder into his neck.

He squeezes her hip with his other hand, slowly starting up his ministrations on her hip again, working alongside his sweet motions against her sensitive clit.

He continues his rubbing, building her up enough before he presses a little firmer, paying close attention to the way her body reacts, how her chest heaves even harder. She moans loudly when he starts to speed up his pace, his fingers moving quickly before slowing back to a languid pace, then faster again, the alternation between the two quickly getting her even more worked up.

"You close, baby?" He murmurs, and she almost doesn't even register that he's spoken with how lost in the sensations she is. She musters out a weak 'uh huh', her fingers tangling further into his hair. He slows down entirely, almost lifting the pads of his fingers away from her entirely, before he presses them, hard, and she moans, her body trembling. She grasps onto his forearm tight, and then he's moving his fingers in tight little circles again, starting slow and building up as that knot inside of her snaps, and she cries out in pure pleasure, his fingers working her through her orgasm, slowing down once her tense body relaxes and slumps against his back.

"How d'you feel, honey?" He asks once she's come down a bit more from her high, a smile of fatigue and ecstasy on her pretty face.

"Mm, good." She murmurs, her arm dropping from his hair. He retreats his fingers, extending his knees so she can close her legs. With her trembling legs now closed in front of her, Sam can't help but smile at the sight of her light shaking, knowing that it was just his fingers that did that.

She shifts in his hold, moving onto her stomach so she can wrap her arms around his middle, burying the side of her face into his chest , feeling his steady heartbeat. He immediately shifts his arms to accommodate her new position, one arm wrapping tightly around her waist, keeping her close and snug, the other gently scratching and massaging her scalp.

He plants a soft kiss to her hair, looking down at her softly, his gentle eyes filled with pure adoration, adoration of how pretty she is, and how she lets him make her feel like that.

She wants to thank him, or return the favour, like she wants to every time, but she knows he won't take it. So instead she settles for the next best thing she can think of to say to him.

"I love you, baby." She mumbles, dipping her head and pressing a soft kiss to his abdomen. He can't help but smile at how sweet his girl is, squeezing her tighter gently.

"I love you too, honey. So much." He whispers, resting his cheek against the top of her head.

"Your hands are magic, y'know? So good." She replies, her smile smushed against his chest.

This draws a soft laugh from him, his fingers scratching atop her scalp, watching them with a pure expression of what can only be lovesickness.

"So i'm only good for my hands, huh? That's why you keep me around?"

"Uh huh," She nods, her squished smile widening uncontrollably, the sight making Sam's heart thump even harder in his chest, an affectionate huff leaving his lips.

This girl, his soft, sweet girl, resting between his legs, all soft and clingy, was without a doubt the most perfect thing he'd ever held, whether she believed it or not.

[parkerluvsu]

SANTA BABY (art donaldson x fem! reader)

the flurry of pure white snow outside your window caused your peaceful slumber to be cut short, the brightness of it peeking through your eyelids no matter how tightly you closed them. shifting in your cozy bed piled high with blankets, you see your husband art has not been affected by the growing blizzard outside, his chest rising and falling accompanied by soft snores.

arts body was warm, a stark contrast to the biting cold that was trying it's best to seep in through the windows. even in his sleep, art could sense your movement, removing his arm from under the blanket and reaching out for you. you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face as you interlace your fingers with his, watching his face relax back into peacefulness.

you find yourself able to fall asleep again, this time getting woken up by a pressure on your chest, causing your eyes to snap open before you recognize the familiar tuft of blond hair. the blond hair was, of course, connected to art, who was too busy pressing his head into your chest to notice that you've woken up. you raise your hand and run your fingers through his soft hair, causing art to startle.

"you're awake.." he mumbles, eyes threatening to fall closed. you smile, petting his hair gently. "i am" you say simply, the cloud of tiredness in your beginning to clear as you watch him become more awake as well. "what time is it?" art asks, trying to gauge the time of day by looking outside but the bright snow making it difficult. you grab your phone, turning it on to check, "it's like 11:30" you say, not surprised that you both slept in quite late. art hums, "let's just stay in bed all day.." he's only half joking, stretching out his legs and yawning before settling back into bed.

you giggle, rolling onto your side and looking at art, admiring the subtle lines and freckles on his face, brought out by the brightness in the room. art has flipped to lay on his stomach, his toned back now flexing as he moves his arms to stretch. you can't resist leaning forward and kissing his soft skin, trying to count the freckles scattered across his back like stars. "shouldn't we go downstairs and open presents?" you ask, selfishly trying to get him to stay in bed with you.

art shakes his head, opening his eyes and letting them roam over your face, taking in every little detail that he adores so much. "no way.. not when i have the best present up here.. all to myself" he jokes, a smile gracing his face. you almost groan at how cheesy it is, shoving your face into your pillow before you're interrupted by art nosing at your neck. he plants wet kisses along your jawline, and if you concentrate hard enough you can feel the smile on his lips.

the feeling makes your stomach jump, never getting used to the endless amount of attention you receive from art. he pulls you closer to him, helping you hike your leg over his hip and placing his warm hands on your lower back. you can feel his breathing start to pick up against your neck, the more he pushes on your lower back, the closer you get to the bulge straining against his briefs. you can't help but giggle, appreciating how quickly he gets flustered after all these years.

you grin against him, letting art lick at your lips as you place your hand between your bodies, trailing it down to his briefs. art whines lowly against your mouth when you rub your hand gently against him through the fabric, immediately feeling the wetness of the precum oozing out of him. "eager, huh?" you tease, pulling his underwear down to rest under his balls, now moving your hand against his bare skin, squeezing your hand around him to feel him pulsing.

art noses at your neck, rolling his hips into your fist and reveling at the warmth that feels a million times better than his own hand. "k-keep going.." he murmurs, tensing his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut at the sensation. you swipe your thumb over his tip, smearing his wetness over his dick as he whines. arts hand comes down to clutch at yours, not trying to stop your movements, just trying to ground himself by touching you.

art gets close to cumming embarrassingly fast, his hand tightening around yours so much that it almost hurts, but you keep going, almost having to pin him down as he squirms. the soft "ah, ah, ah"s escaping arts mouth get louder, and he can't warn you before his cum is spilling all over your hand. art always cums a lot, more than you'd expect to even be able to come out of his body. as the last of his cum spurts out of his angry pink tip, arts body shudders.

you pull your hand off of him, watching as his eyes flutter open again. art always gets extremely docile after he cums, after a few seconds of resting, art shifts his body to lay on top of you, and you aren't shocked to feel his dick hard again against your thigh. "let me make you feel good too.. please" you can feel the vibrations of his words against your neck, his soft lips working their way down your chest, taking time to suckle at your nipples. you instinctively spread your legs for him, making space for his body to settle between your thighs. art makes small noises of appreciation as he kisses the soft skin on your stomach, sometimes dragging his teeth gently along the skin to feel you tense up under him.

art places his large warm hands on the squishy skin of your inner thighs, pushing them apart even farther as you arch your back at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. art immediately starts mouthing at your clit and pushing his tongue inside you, not even worrying about whether he can breathe or not, just wanting to make you feel good. art has never had a technique for eating you out, he just practically makes out with your pussy until you have to pull him away by the soft curls on his head, which is what you're having to do currently. "art- art it's too much" you whine out, trying to shut your legs as best you can, but arts hands keep them spread wide for him. you can feel the knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten, motivating you to push arts face away from your cunt so you can look him in the eyes.

"art.. please fuck me" you normally aren't one to beg, but something about the way the soft morning light hits arts milky skin makes you terribly eager. art, always wanting to please, nods his head, finally shucking off his briefs and letting his cock smack against his stomach. art places his hand in front of you, wordlessly asking for you to spit in it for him. you comply, watching with slight awe as he uses your spit to lube himself up, rubbing his tip at your entrance before slowly moving inside. art isn't necessarily afraid of hurting you with his size anymore, but he knows his body well enough to know that if he goes too quick, he'll just cum immediately.

despite this knowledge, as art sinks further into the warmth you provide him, he finds all logic has disappeared. your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders, pulling him close. art groans against your neck, picking up his head to kiss you passionately, before closing his eyes to focus on not cumming before you. "i can’t, its- you're too warm- just need—" he can’t form complete sentences, he’s thrusting mindlessly until he reaches his peak. you wrap your legs around his hips and whisper in his ear "go ahead.. cum for me art" and he's a goner. art gives one last thrust, the hardest he’s given you so far, then stills completely. his entire body shudders with the feeling of euphoria coursing through his body, he grips your hips so tight he’s sure you’ll have bruises in the shape of his hands. art holds you still and lets his cum pulse inside of you. he wants it as deep as possible. he can’t explain the need to breed that takes over his head, but he knows he can't risk you shifting even a little because he needs it all to spill inside.

you're sure he didn't even notice that you came too, squeezing so tight around him that if he was in his right mind he would have noticed. you let art come down from his high, slowly sinking further into your body as he places his head on your bare chest, shifting his hips slightly to pull out. art fights to stay awake, his instincts making him get up and pad over to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth for you and gently spreading your legs again, this time with more pure intentions. the feeling of the warm washcloth soothes your soreness, and you don't have to open your eyes when you feel art slip back into bed beside you, laying on his back as he pulls you to lay on his chest.

"merry christmas" he murmurs, a small smile on his face. you smile too, looking up at his blushing face. that's the last thing you remember before you fall peacefully back asleep, your dreams full of decorating trees, drinking hot cocoa and cuddling by the fire with your husband. <3

[galactic-magick]

For You: AU!Claggor x Reader

Summary: In the alternate timeline, Powder encourages you to admit your feelings for Claggor.

Words: 800+

Author's Notes: Adult alternate timeline Claggor is fine af so I wrote this short oneshot. Also I just needed to write something more lighthearted and cute after writing that devastating Viktor fic earlier. Enjoy <3

“I don’t get why you can’t just tell him,” Powder huffs, shuffling through her drawers for a particular brush. She glides on eyeshadow in your favorite colors, endlessly teasing you while she works, “It’s obvious he’s liked you since we were kids.”

“Oh, like finally admitting your feelings to Ekko was so easy,” you roll your eyes, causing her to scold you for opening them. “Besides, that’s not even true. He probably just sees me like a sister.”

“Look,” Powder tilts your chin up as she applies blush to your cheeks. “As someone who was actually raised as his sister, I can promise you he treats you differently. I catch him staring at you all the time, and he goes out of his way to be nice to you. Like, he literally made a new hybrid flower for you for your last birthday. What is it you’re not getting?”

“He gives plants to everyone, I don’t think I was special,” you shrug, pressing out your lips so Powder can swipe on some gloss.

“You’re a lost cause sometimes,” she sighs with a laugh. “Come on, it’s time to make our entrance.”

-

The Innovator’s Competition is crowded as usual, with loud music and ambient lights showering the entries and guests. Powder meets up with Ekko while you go to grab a drink and browse the inventions.

People start dancing, and you sway back and forth a bit to the beat. You don’t particularly want to third wheel right now, so you make do on the sidelines. You’re closer to the snacks here, anyway.

“Wow, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

You whip your head towards the voice, your mouth stuffed with one of Jericho’s famous, sloppy appetizers.

“Oh! Hi, Claggor!” You swallow as quickly as you can and wipe your face with your sleeve. “Sorry, um, thank you.”

“Anytime,” he chuckles. “How come you’re not out there dancing?”

“I...I just don’t like dancing alone,” you say, your eyes darting back to Powder and the other couples and friend groups on the dance floor.

“Well let’s go then,” he extends his hand to you.

You smile and take it, weaving through the crowd as he pulls you towards the middle. You see Powder give you a thumbs up before your attention is back on Claggor, and suddenly the crowded room feels less overwhelming.

You let lose, showing off your most ridiculous dance moves without a worry in the world. That was the thing about Claggor, he always made you feel safe, like you could be yourself whenever he was around. There is never a glimmer of judgment in his eyes, never an inkling of unkindness. He’s been your most stable and trusted friend for years—he played with you, explored the city with you, mourned with you, rejoiced with you. He’s just that kind of guy, with a heart of gold that never wavers.

But if you told him how you really feel—how you’ve felt since you were young—things might not be the same.

-

After the competition, Claggor takes the scenic route while walking you home, showing you a couple new gardens he’s been working on around the city. He hopes that one day plant life can be the key to the pollution problem in the underground, a dream that isn’t too far off with the latest hybrids and prototypes he’s made. It’s fascinating, and you’ve always admired his natural talent with nature.

He picks you a flower from one of the gardens, the kind he knows are your favorite.

“For you,” he says, slithering the stem into your hair. His hands, his face—it’s all so dangerously close now. You can feel his warmth, feel his gentle gaze.

Maybe Powder’s right, no man who saw you as just a friend would look at you like this.

You take the chance and close the space between you, kissing him quickly before stepping back to gauge his reaction.

He immediately pulls you back in, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you harder. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twiddling with his soft wavy hair.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he says, your lips barely moving apart.

“I think I have some idea,” you giggle.

“Would you look at that, what did I tell ya?” You see Powder and Ekko coming around the corner, clearly ecstatic about this new opportunity to tease you. “Finally.”

Claggor keeps holding you close as you fire back, “Did you follow us just to say ‘I told you so’?”

“Nah, I didn’t even know you left the party yet,” Powder laughs. “But boy am I glad I saw this!”

She keeps walking with Ekko, whispering and chuckling as they go. You and Claggor can’t help but burst into your own fit of laughter as well, basking in the hilarity of the whole situation.

“We’ll never live this down, will we?” Claggor smirks.

“Absolutely not.”

[sweetpupii]

a heavy, exhausted sigh could be heard from the front door as it closed and something loudly—a backpack perhaps—dropped to the ground. ( hopefully nothing broke. )

the shuffling footsteps going from the living room to your room a clear indicator that it was just jayce and not a very loud burglar breaking into your apartment.

“hi, how was—oh?” your smile quickly turned into a surprised look as he interrupted your greeting by taking your phone out of your hands, spreading your legs to lay his full body weight on top of you, letting out another deep exhale from his chapped lips. don't even waste your time trying to convince him to take a lip balm to leave the house; he always forgets.

“I'm so tired…” he mumbled against the fabric of your top, instinctively snuggling into your abdomen while seeking warmth and contact. eyes growing even heavier than before. “I missed you.”

a soft smile finding its way to your lips once more at the quiet confession, gently tracing his tense shoulders with an index finger. “missed you too; you got home pretty late.”

he lazily nodded with a hum, hands slowly sliding up and down at your sides to distract himself from the stress. today has been absolutely awful. he just wanted to come home and cuddle while you talk about whatever.

a break.

“I still haven't found a material that does the same thing as cobalt for my project and is also cheap; nickel overheats, silicon expands, and I can't even afford graphene… it's driving me crazy.” a slight groan can be heard in his voice, clearly exhausted from trying and failing multiple times. 

“you won't be able to think about other solutions if you're working your ass off.”

“...yeah, I know that already, but I just—everyone’s already done with their own projects or already knows how to do it, but I'm still trying to figure it out.” jayce’s lips twitch into a frown, squeezing his eyes shut before burying his face on your chest. the gentle beat of your heart soothing his overwhelmed brain.

“from now on, no talking about work here unless it's really necessary. can't have you getting gray hairs in your early thirties.” he could only scoff at that comment.

“it's not like it would look bad…right?”

“nope but still, I would prefer seeing those because of the time that passes and not from stress.” the gentle kiss on his forehead automatically makes him lean forward into you, silently asking for more.

it felt good to think about being with you long enough you start seeing his gray hair appear.

“thanks…” jayce whispered while moving his head to also be able to return the affection with tiny kisses, his stubble lightly scratching your skin, gently trailing up to your lips with a steady and soft kiss that pulled you closer and easily melted away any lingering frustration in his body.

god, it felt good to be home.

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist

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𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧)

✩ : the aftermath of the las vegas grand prix with max

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : max verstappen

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff, fluff, and more fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 775

✍︎ : SO SO SO EXCITED FOR MAX, I HAD TO POST SOMETHING (i don't know if i like it tho, let me know what you think!)

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You couldn't remember the exact moment when the tears prickling your eyes had started streaming down your face, but right then it didn't matter. Nothing really did.

The only thing you could focus on was the roaring of the engines right across the pit lane, matching the loud thumping of your heart.

One more lap.

Just one lap, and Max would've been crowned World Champion for the fourth time in a row.

You brought your hands up to your mouth, squeezing them together in a silent prayer as your eyes remained glued to the little screen in the Red Bull box. The crowd cheered as George Russell was declared winner of the Grand Prix, their screams seeming miles away from you as you still held your breath. The race wasn't over yet.

The next few minutes were a confused swirl of people shouting, hugs, and congratulating pats on the back—a river of blue suits that dragged you outside into the crisp night breeze. You ran alongside the rest of the crew, vision blurred with tears, until you reached the barrier and let out something between a sob and a laugh.

There he was.

Standing tall on top of the car with both arms thrown in the air, taking in the thousands of people yelling his name and chanting him with a deafening applause, Max had never looked so genuinely happy and excited about his own achievement.

Suddenly, his gaze caught yours through the visor of his helmet, and you could swear you'd seen his eyes light up. In less than one second, he jumped off the vehicle and ran up to where you were standing, his large hands immediately finding your waist as you secured yours around his neck, letting him effortlessly lift you off the ground and spin you in the air while just screaming with pure, raw joy.

Once he was done, he didn't let you go, wrapping your legs around his torso and placing his hands on the back of your thighs to keep you up. His chest rose with every heavy pant he let out. You closed your eyes, tears still spilling from them, before resting your forehead against the cold glass of the visor and taking a deep breath of relief: finally.

Pulling away, you gently helped him take the helmet off, one of his hands quickly leaving your side to rip the balaclava off his head. All you could see was a glimpse of his icy blue eyes before his fingers firmly cupped your jaw and drew you into him, your lips crashing together. The suddenness of the kiss made you drop the helmet to the ground.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer, your lips chasing each other in their own perfect race, breaths intertwined in a flawless melody.

Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the blinding flashes of the paparazzi's cameras surrounding you. You could hear the amused whistles coming from both fans and the other drivers, but you couldn’t care less. This moment was yours and yours only, and it felt so right: just you and Max, melting in each other's arms.

When you moved back, breathless from the intense kiss, you brought your still trembling hands up to his face and traced every inch of it with your fingertips, your touch feathery, almost as if to draw a map on his glistening skin: thick, pensive eyebrows, always so focused eyes, and full lips.

"You did it, Max," you managed to whisper, voice hoarse from staying silent for too long. "Four-times World Champion."

"Actually, this is the first World Championship I've really won." You could hear the laugh in his voice, his smug expression making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Because it's the first one my world came to see," he explained softly, his fingers running up to your forehead to brush a lock of hair out of your face before grazing your silky skin, his gaze lovingly locked onto yours.

You felt your eyes well up with hot tears once again, but as soon as one of them started rolling down your cheek, he was quick to catch it with his thumb and tenderly wipe it away.

"Nice reflexes, Verstappen," you muttered against his lips, a faint smirk plastered on your face.

"Not bad for a four-time World Champion, huh?" He grinned back before closing the gap between the two of you, drunk on the feeling of your mouths dancing together.

The world around him was long forgotten. For now, the only world he seemed to care about was the one wrapped tight into his arms.

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©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[scarletemeterio]

Wanting for More (Ekko x gn!reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Fandom: Arcane

Summary: Ekko sees you asleep and covers you with a blanket

Word count: 767

•••

You both had lost track of time, that was obvious. You two had been working on something in Ekko's workplace for a few hours, and a while ago you decided to take a break and lie down for a bit.

He'd been really concentrated in his work, but he suddenly realized he hadn't heard you in a while, so he decided to take a look at you, only to find out you'd fallen asleep. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, looking so peaceful and dreamy. This wasn't the first time Ekko got lost in his thoughts while staring at you, it was quite common actually, or it had been lately at least.

There was something more than just friendship between you two, you both knew that. But neither of you had the courage to do something about it, and both of you were scared, too. It seemed easier to not act on your feelings and just enjoy the relationship you already had, but the wanting for more was starting to be unbearable for him. He wanted you to be his, as much as he wanted to be yours.

No one understood him like you did, and no one supported him and trusted him like you did. You two had known each other for years now, since you were one of the first ones to join the Firelights, and from that day his life was never the same again. Ekko was genuinely happy when you were around, he saw hope in you, maybe even a future together. When you two were together, he wasn't the Firelights' leader, he was just Ekko, he could relax around you. In a world like yours, having someone like that was a privilege.

He got out of his thoughts when he realized you were curled up into a ball, clearly cold. He quickly got up and looked for a blanket, and when he found it he covered you with it. He got down to your level, next to the bed, and put a strand of hair behind your ear, putting it away from your face and leaving his hand on your shoulder. He smiled again, feeling grateful for having you in his life and being able to share these little moments.

You got a bit startled by his touch and slowly opened your eyes, seeing Ekko at eye level with you.

"Hey," you said in almost a whisper, and he replied with a shy smile. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I have no idea, I just found you a couple minutes ago", he replied, while caressing your shoulder a bit.

You still felt sleepy, but you could see how tired he was, his eyes could never lie, and definitely not to you.

"You should get some sleep, Ekko", you told him. "Here, I'll move so you can fit in here." You did as you said, leaving space for him to hop on the bed and lie down next to you. This wasn't uncommon between the two of you, but lately the tension in these moments had become obvious, even if you tried to ignore it. Still, you were so tired you didn't really care right now, you just wanted to go back to sleep.

"I should keep working."

"Just shut up and come here, working can wait." He was a very self-demanding person, but he knew you were right, so he took off his shoes and did as you said.

You ended up being face to face, and you could feel your heart beating really fast, like it was gonna explode. You closed your eyes and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Thank you for the blanket", you murmured, loud enough for him to hear.

"Anytime", he answered, wrapping his arm around you.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed his warmth and his touch, wishing you could stay like this forever. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep again, and he could tell from the way you were breathing. He gave you a little kiss on the forehead, savouring every second with you in his arms.

"You mean the world to me", he whispered. He imagined sleeping like this every night and couldn't help but smile. He knew life was hard and that the world was dangerous, but he also knew he couldn't live in fear and put a stop to his own life just to help and save others. He knew he had to tell you how he felt, and find a bit of hope with you amongst all the chaos that surrounded you.

•••

okay so this is my first arcane post. i haven't written in a while so i'm a bit rusty and english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy this!

requests are officially open for arcane characters, you can check my rules in my profile!

[hencheri]

18+ mdni.

pairing: jeno x fem!reader (ft. jaemin)

warnings: noncon, dacryphilia.

.

the high ceiling of the women’s changing room allows the slapping sounds of jeno’s hips meeting your ass to resonate, making him more aware of the dead silence around him except for the few cries that occasionally leave your lips. it’s not the ideal place where he would’ve liked to do this, but he didn’t really have any other choices anyway.

he thinks that the soft feeling of your skin under his palms, your ponytail brushing his face, the sweet scent of citrus entering his nostrils, the hot sight of your leggings rolled up under your bum… are enough to make him forget the usual sweaty smell of the gym. make him forget what he’s really doing.

he’s always seen you in your sports wear, tight black leggings hugging your ass and pink bra cupping your breasts. he only imagined what was under, what type of panties you’d wear, but now having your bare skin at the mercy of his hands is making his cock really stiff. 

he grabs your hair in his fist to turn your head to the side, looking at your face, just as glowy as it is when you leave your yoga class. you accidentally meet jeno’s gaze and seeing your big teary eyes on him has his cock jumping inside of you and he’s sure you felt that because you clench around right after. 

to his dismay, you scrunch your eyes shut, letting out a weak sob. he’d like you to look at him, too, he knows you’re attracted to him, you have to be. everyone is. the smiles you flashed him from across the gym before couldn’t be just out of courtesy. 

his stare bore into the side of your face, and all feels too claustrophobic for you, his mouth so close to you his deep breath hits your cheek. his pace is brutal and you keep squeaking whenever he goes too deep too fast. 

your sad, pitiful sounds only fulfil his desires even more. if you weren’t attracted to him, your cunt wouldn’t be dripping around jeno’s entire cock. your inner thighs wouldn’t be covered in your slick. 

a couple more thrusts and jeno would have reached his orgasm, but the sounds of the door opening and someone’s steps on the ground, stop him. the complete silence inside the gym could have fooled him that nobody else was still here, but the euphoric state he was in seconds ago probably also made him forget about jaemin’s presence. 

“i didn’t think you’d really be there.” just as jeno’s backing away from you, he hears his friend’s laugh. he feels his face getting warmer, quickly tucking himself back into his sweats. “sorry to interrupt,” jaemin grins, just like he would knowing his friend got laid. 

he gets a better look at you, also covering yourself back up, noticing your red eyes and wet eyelashes. your sniffing enlightens jaemin on what jeno was actually doing. 

he scoffs, looking you up and down and then finally at jeno. “didn’t know that was your kind…”

“i didn’t-”

“unless you fuck like a god, which i doubt, you aren’t making girls cry like that,” jaemin sarcastically points out, stepping closer to you who haven’t moved a muscle since you pulled your leggings back up. “poor little thing…”

jeno isn’t stupid enough to believe jaemin is really showing any pity, looking at his grin and the evil glint in his eyes, he’s enjoying it. 

“don’t make me stop you there,” he smiles, “but i won’t lie that i’m curious to know what that mouth can do.”

[hobby1008]

My sister

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

eunchae X M Reader

Tags: incest,oral

You are sitting on the living room sofa without wearing a shirt, your eyes fixed on the TV screen while the movie is playing. Suddenly, your lovely sister Eunchae sits next to you. She calls you with a lovely smile.

"What are you doing, oppa?"

You look at her and say, "I was watching TV because I was bored." She immediately leaned on your shoulder and sat down, and she looked up at you again and said, "If you're bored, come hang out with me. I'm bored too."

You smiled at her cute request and said, "What do you want to do, my Eunchae?"

She came closer to me and caressed the front of your shorts with her hand without a care. "I want to suck yours." You looked at her, surprised by her sudden attitude, but her eyes were already looking up at you with lust, . You couldn't believe that your lovely sister had such a thought, and you had to refuse, but her beautiful appearance and happiness made your mind harden at the thought.

You were getting more excited as you looked at Eunchae's lovely face, and she felt some kind of happiness at your reaction. You nodded shyly. Then Eunchae smiled. "I have to make my brother happy."

You can feel your heart flutter at her words and feel your dick slowly hardening and tenting your pants. Noticing that, Eunchae teases you by pushing your cheek with her tongue and smirks at the corners of her mouth.

A shy smile spreads across your face as you scratch your head. "Okay, yeah, that works for me," you agree.

"Okay, I'll make you the happiest, brother." Eunchae says with a loving smile. She quickly scans the hallway toward your parents' bedroom, checking to see if the shore is clean. As the door closes tightly, Eunchae quickly moves down between your legs and pulls your panties completely off.

Your rock-hard dick bounces, and Eunchae looks at you with a satisfied expression. "Wow, oppa, it's big here too." She muttered as she wrapped her soft, gentle hands around your thick dick.

Eunchae starts slowly, tracing your slit with the tip of her tongue, feeling the Cooper's fluid already beading on your glans. She looked into your eyes with your reaction and loving gaze.

"Fuck," you moan, your hips squirming involuntarily as her plump, glossy lips stretch around your swollen shaft. She slowly sinks down until your cock is buried in the moist, soft heat of her mouth.

"Oh fuck, Eunchae." You hiss through clenched teeth, running your fingers through her black hair. She shakes her head, swirling her tongue around your cock, licking you with her saliva.

"Fuck, it feels so good Eunchae." You moan, holding back the urge to place both hands on her head and use her face. Eunchae moans around your cock, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through you.

Eunchae aligns her vacuum mouth with your cock, moving her head back and forth as she looks at you, her skills sloppy but loving smile for you and doing her best for you is more satisfying than any other situation. Beautiful and happy.

You groaned and wiggled your hips slightly. "Fuck, Eunchae. You're so pretty and lovely, and you feel so good."

She blushed even more at your compliment, and she shyly lifted her lips from your dick. "If you like it, I like it too." You were so happy and glad to hear her words, you stroked her head.

"Suck it again." You smiled, reaching out and tying her hair into a makeshift ponytail. "It feels so good, Eunchae."

Eunchae opened her mouth again and put your dick in her mouth and started sucking it. Eunchae's caressing was so good and exciting, but there was a little regret, so you stroked her head and said, "Eunchae, it feels so good, but can you do it harder? If you do it like this, it'll take a long time to cum." Eunchae started sucking it even harder at your words. Although not skilled, you used your tongue and hand to caress your dick and balls.

"Yes, Eunchae, do it more like that." You moaned, gripping her hair tightly. She smiled at you and swirled her tongue through the saliva coating your dick.

"Do you like it like this, oppa?" She muttered in a low, sensual voice. "I can do anything for you, oppa, so tell me as much as you want." She You said, sucking your balls and caressing your cock with your hands,

You guided Eunchae to your cock, desperately wanting her mouth to be around you more. “Keep doing this with your mouth,” you growled. “Keep touching my balls with your hands too.”

Eunchae opens her mouth and swallows your cock whole, her throat muscles spasming around your swollen cock until she gags and growls.

“Fuck, fuck!” You scream, your head falling back as you feel the soft, spongy velvet around your cock. The knot in your stomach tightens and the pressure builds in your groin.

Eunchae buzzes around you, the vibrations sending electric jolts of pleasure through your body. She’s pushing you dangerously close to the edge. Her passion is hotter than anything else in the world.

“You don’t have to do that, Eunchae.” Your fingers stroke her hair. She said while stroking, and Eunchae smiled at you and said, “I want to make you feel good, oppa, so just feel it, oppa.”

You loved the way Eunchae looked so much.

Eunchae used her lips again to seal tightly around your cock, and her throat tried to swallow every last blast of your thick, salty cum. You could hear her gulping it down without wasting a single drop.

“Ugh, fuck.” You moaned, your voice hoarse with pleasure. It felt like her mouth was sucking all of you, and his passion was truly amazing.

This whole situation was crazy. Your sister was kneeling between your legs, eagerly taking your load into her mouth. But Eunchae’s love for you easily broke down the barrier between them.

Finally, your orgasm subsided, and Eunchae pulled away from your cock, which had become soft with a lewd pop sound. She opened her mouth and spit out cum

"Did you like it? Oppa, you came out so much," she said, biting her lower lip.

You let out a shaky laugh, still a little breathless from the intensity of your orgasm. "Damn, Eunchae… I feel like I just went to heaven," you joked. "That was the best I've ever felt."

Eunchae smiled with the same innocent and happy smile at your words,

and said, "I'm happy because I see you enjoying it so much," and sucked out all the cum left in your cock.

You let her play with your cock, admiring the way her lips wrapped around you. "You're such a sweetheart, Eunchae, do you know that?" you mumbled, your eyes looking at her beautiful face.

Eunchae with a jealous look. "I'm jealous of your girlfriend. You can suck your dick all the time and make your boyfriend happy." You said.. "No, Eunchae, you can make me happy too. I'll look forward to it." Eunchae looked at you with a happy smile.

After she washed your body clean, she put the cloth back on your legs while you were standing.

Then Eunchae kissed your cheek and said, "If you want more, just tell me anytime, oppa." She shyly disappeared into her room.