#or have edged a little closer away from where he is

[miryum]

Simon Riley who, when you moved in with him, also had to adjust to your little dog. He loved dogs, as evident by Riley, but your dog was not like Riley. Riley was a war-hardened German Shepard that could sniff out bombs and had survived a bullet wound. Your dog looked like it would pee on the helicopter that was sent to rescue it and bark at the medic before rolling over for belly rubs.

Your dog was all bark and no bite. They were a small, fluffy little thing who you spoiled more than Simon. It took them a while to adjust to Simon, but when they realised that Simon laid heavily on the couch after deployment and was willing to be their personal pillow, your little dog reluctantly accepted him.

As for the dynamic between Riley and your dog, your little pupper was insistent that they were the boss of the house. They barked at Riley when first introduced as Riley just sat there, waiting for it to be over. Soon enough, though, your dog was curled up with Riley, cuddling. That always made you coo and take pictures of the pair, though Simon grumped that he’d rather have you pay attention to him.

Speaking of attention not on Simon, when the hell did your shared bed also become the dogs’ bed? When it was just Simon and Riley, Riley had his own bed and kennel in the living room. And Simon loved you so much. He was so fucking happy when you moved in. Hell, he was happy just to have you in his bed. Waking up with you tucked into his side, protected by him, was something he adored. It was better than heaven. But that heaven was usually interrupted by your scrappy little dog wiggling its way in between you two. He would turn around when you started petting and baby-talking the dog, only to see Riley at the foot of the bed, staring up at him. That’s how both dogs began sleeping in your shared bed.

You adored Riley just as much as you adored your own dog. You loved going on walks with Simon, the dogs on their leashes. Riley was a perfect walker, next to Simon the entire time with such military precision that you doubted the canine even needed a leash. Your dog on the other hand… they weaved all over the path, pausing to sniff and pee every half block. Simon wanted to train your dog like he had trained Riley, but you refused. “Oh, shush. Look at that little face! Perfect already, Si.” Of course, he could never say no to you.

Speaking of Riley’s training, however, Simon could tell that his dog was slowly slipping farther and farther from his strict regimen. With the excessive treats that you slipped Riley, the dog was gaining some chonkiness, just as his owner. As his deployments got further and further apart and his retirement got more and more likely (perhaps because of the ring in his dresser drawer), he allowed himself to stay in bed longer with you rather than getting up to exercise in the wee hours of the morning. You didn’t mind, obviously. You liked the softness that Simon was acquiring and he was always a big man to begin with. Just because his tummy was becoming more squishy didn’t mean that he still couldn’t throw his weight around if someone was bothering you.

Simon, combined with Riley, allowed for ‘scary dog privileges.’ There was a time when a creepy man began following you when Simon was on deployment and you were walking Riley. Your own little dog was getting their hair cut, so it was just you and Riley. You noticed something was wrong when Riley’s ears perked up and his movements got a bit more robotic. You glanced around, knowing Riley’s instincts were never wrong. After seeing the man, you decided to head back towards the edge of the park, where more people were. When the man didn’t give up, though, and got even closer, Riley went full guarddog. He stepped closer to you and turned around to face the man. After a few loud, thundering barks that drew the attention of everyone around, the man scuttled away. Later that month when Simon was back home, both dogs cuddled up to you on the bed, he didn’t know whether to be mad that you didn’t tell him immediately (though he could never get mad at you) or to be proud that Riley protected you so fiercely. Anxiety and fear rushed through Simon, but you calmed him with a small kiss and Riley set his head on Simon’s stomach. Riley definitely earned the scratches behind the ears that he got.

Most dog owners took their dogs out for one last pee before bedtime and Simon was no exception. You always made Simon take the dogs out because you were usually cuddled up in bed or in the blankets all cosy. He never once complained, either tugging on his jacket if it was windy out, or pulling on a hat if it was raining. He would do anything for you, even if it meant braving thick snow that crept into his boots. Riley always went quickly, even though both owner and dog knew that he could withstand the freezing temperatures. Your little idiot, on the other hand, would take their merry time, sniffing and trailing around the yard (which you had asked for when you and Simon moved out of his apartment and into a real house on the outskirts of the city). There were even times when another dog would be walking by and your canine would bark and run after them. Simon was always quick to jog after and scoop the dog up. Once in a while, Riley would give a deep bark as well, as if telling off your dog. Simon would then trudge back into the house, muttering curses under his breath, your dog under his arm.

But, as much as he pretended to hate your dog, there was always a soft spot there. Soon enough, “my girlfriend’s” dog became “my wife’s” dog and then “our” dog.

[sloaneispunk]

“ darlin’ ”

teacher!in-ho x you (mdni 18+) 💋ྀིྀི

when a sweet girl walks into his class, in-ho couldn’t resist making her his

🍒⋆⭒˚.⋆🍒 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🍒. ۫ ꣑ৎ . 🍒⋆⭒˚.⋆🍒 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🍒

it was the start of a new year, in-ho was the newest teacher. within days, he had fellow teachers, students, everyone pining on him. he knew it and he took pride in it.

he never paid any mind to any of them though, because his eyes was set on a particular student. someone so sweet and adorable, he was like a bee attracted to honey.

in-ho knew whatever facade you were putting up was for him and him only, it was obvious. you would frown at any boy who gave you looks, but when he did it, you gave him an innocent smile. it was as if you were so naive you didn’t know what you were doing to him.

fuck, you were driving him crazy.

the cute patterned clothes you wore, the small bows in your hair. you were like a lamb walking right into the slaughter house.

after weeks of keeping his dick in his pants, jerking off only when you were gone, he had enough. he wanted you, and he wanted you now.

in-ho had planned it out meticulously, getting you to stay behind after class when all your friends had left, leaving you alone with him as he licked his lips hungrily.

“did i do something wrong?” your sweet voice echoed in his ears, it was enough to make an old man like him collapse on the spot.

“no, darling. c’mere, yeah?” he beckoned, pushing his chair away from his desk, inviting you over.

you knew what he was doing and you loved it.

“if i didn’t do anything wrong, why did you ask me to stay behind?” you questioned, taking your place between in-ho and his desk, trapping yourself exactly where you wanted to be.

“you’re so sweet, darlin’.” he cooed, playing with the him of your dress as you giggled.

“you think so?”

“yeah… so, so sweet.” he sighed, looking into your eyes as you tilted your head confused. “sit here.”

you looked down to where he was patting, his lap. a cheeky grin crept onto your face as you complied.

“now, i have a problem.” he started, hands now twirling with your hair.

“what is it?”

“you’ve made a poor old man like me so on edge, hm?”

“you’re not that old.” you laughed, making him chuckle.

“take a guess.”

“forty?” he tutted.

“older.”

“forty seven?” you guessed, but he shook his head.

“getting close.”

“fifty three?”

“fifty four, sweetheart.” he corrected you as your breath hitched. “does it bother you?”

“not at all.” you whispered, leaning closer to him.

you could feel the heat coming off of him, he was so warm, so inviting. sure, this man could be your dad with the age he was at but damn did he look good.

“doesn’t bother you that your teacher is crazy for you?” he hummed. you could smell the cigarettes in his breath, overwhelming your mind, making you dizzy.

no, you shook your head.

“what a sweet girl, huh? do you know how down bad you’ve made me?”

no, you shook your head once more.

“of course you don’t, there’s nothing going on in that little head of yours.” he joked, tapping your forehead, making you laugh.

what have you done? you were going down a dangerous path with the only man you should have never done such a thing to in the first place. you knew from that moment, that in-ho was serious about keeping you his. it made you worry what he would do if you crossed paths with any other boy in the school.

[harrysfolklore]

secret - cs55

summary: carlos has been keeping his relationship secret for 6 months. the world has no idea that he's dating an a list actress

wc: 5.4k words + social media posts. face claim: emilia clarke

folkie radio: guys... why does it feel illegal to post a carlos fic that's not little bitch?? anyway i hope you like this LEAVE FEEDBACK !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram Spain, you have my heart ❤️

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username1 QUEEN

username2 she’s glowiiiing

arianagrande mother 🤎

username3 imagine being the highest paid actress in hollywood looking like that i wouldn’t take shit from anybody

florencepugh you’re the actual loml

↳ yourinstagram Love you baby flo

username4 single yn is glowing

username5 spain also has my heart but i’ve never been there i’m just obsessed with carlos sainz

username6 carlos sainz in the likes wbk he’s a fan since the first season of game of thrones

anasainzvdec 💓💓

liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 1,570,487 others

carlossainz55 Short break before heading to Silverstone 🇬🇧

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username1 HOTTEST MAN ALIVE

username2 carlos don’t do this to my ovaries

scuderiaferrari 🌶️🌶️

username3 if he is single who is taking all this boyfriend content

username4 THATS A HUSBAND

blancasainzv 🙌🙌🙌

username5 CARLOS LET ME JUMP ON YOUR BONES

username6 it’s a crime that this man is single looking like this (not really)

landonorris A family man

↳ georgerussell63 😂😂😂

↳ username1 carlando forever

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You stand in front of the mirror, applying the last touches of makeup as sunlight streams through the bedroom window. The reflection shows Carlos lounging on the bed behind you, his dark eyes following your every move. You can't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his gaze.

As you prepare to leave, your mind wanders to the whirlwind romance of the past six months. It all started with a tweet- Carlos expressing his admiration for your character in Game of Thrones. You hadn't known much about Formula 1 then, but his charm and genuine enthusiasm caught your attention.

Fate brought you together at a high-profile fashion event months later. You remember how your heart raced when he approached you, confidently asking for your number. Within days, he'd asked you out on a proper date.

Now, six months later, you're living in a blissful bubble of secrecy. Neither his fellow drivers nor your co-stars have any idea about your relationship. It's a mutual decision - you're both in the spotlight, and this connection feels too important to expose to the world's scrutiny just yet.

You've just returned from a short trip to Spain, where Carlos introduced you to his family. The warmth of their welcome still lingers, making you feel even more connected to him. His parents had embraced you immediately, and you'd spent hours laughing and sharing stories with his sisters. The trip reinforced the feeling that you truly belonged in Carlos' life.

"Do you really have to leave?" Carlos asks, his Spanish accent more pronounced in his sleepy state.

"You know I do, darling. This film isn't going to shoot itself," you turn to face him, taking in his tousled hair and bare chest.

Carlos props himself up on his elbows, a playful smirk on his lips. "But I can think of so many better ways to spend the day."

You walk over to the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. "Tempting, but I've got to go. We can't all race cars for a living, you know."

His hand catches yours as you start to pull away. "Just five more minutes?" he pleads, pulling you closer.

You allow yourself to be drawn in, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're impossible," you say, but there's no real frustration in your voice.

"Impossible to resist, you mean," Carlos wraps an arm around your waist, nuzzling into your neck.

"That too," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "But seriously, I need to leave soon."

He sighs dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows. "Fine, fine. Go be a famous actress. Leave me here all alone."

"Drama queen," you roll your eyes, standing up. "You've got meetings later anyway."

As you gather your things, Carlos watches you with a mix of admiration and affection.

"You know," he says softly, "sometimes I still can't believe this is real. Us, I mean."

"It's real," you assure him, with a small smile, "And it's ours."

"I guess my obsession with Daenerys Targaryen paid off," Carlos grins, sitting up, "Though I have to say, the real you is even better than any character."

"Smooth talker. No wonder I fell for you so quickly," you roll your eyes playfully as you walk over to the bed, cupping his face in your hands. "As tempting as that is, love, we both have responsibilities. But tonight, it's just us."

He leans into your touch, then pulls you down for a deep kiss. When you part, both slightly breathless, he whispers, "I can't wait."

With a final blown kiss, you slip out of the room, your heart full and a smile on your lips. Another day of keeping your relationship under wraps begins, but you wouldn't have it any other way. Your mind is already counting down the hours until you can be in his arms again, safe in your private world built for two.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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ynupdates YN arriving for filming today in London!

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username1 MY BUBBB

username2 why so serious

username3 she has a movie premiering in two months and she’s already filming another talk about an icon

username4 love the fitttt

username5 streets say she’s got a boyfriend now 👀

↳ username1 source: trust me bro

↳ username2 SPILL THE DEETS

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You sink into the plush couch in Carlos' living room, the aroma of your favorite pasta filling the air. This has become your ritual - intimate dinners at home, safe from prying eyes and camera flashes. Sometimes you cook together, but tonight you've ordered in from that little Italian place Carlos adores.

"This is perfect," you sigh contentedly as Carlos settles beside you, two plates balanced in his hands. "I'll take nosy neighbors over paparazzi any day."

"Agreed," Carlos chuckles, handing you your plate, "Though I'm pretty sure my neighbor thinks I've developed an unhealthy obsession with takeout."

"Little do they know you're just obsessed with me," you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Guilty as charged," he grins, pulling you closer.

As you eat, you share stories about your day. Carlos absently traces patterns on your knee, and you find yourself melting into his touch.

"Oh," you say, remembering suddenly. "My team suggested something interesting today."

"What would that be, amor?" Carlos raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

You take a sip of wine before answering. "They think it would be a good idea for me to attend the Silverstone Grand Prix."

For obvious reasons, you haven't been able to join Carlos for a race since your relationship began. The need for secrecy and your busy schedules have kept you from sharing this crucial part of his life.

So when your team suggested you should attend the British Grand Prix at Silverstone to promote your new movie, you felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of finally seeing Carlos in his element, even if you had to pretend not to know each other, made you giddy.

"Really? That's... wow," Carlos said, his eyes twinkling.

"Don't get too excited," you nudge him playfully. "We'll have to pretend we barely know each other, you know."

Carlos groans dramatically, flopping back against the couch. "You mean I can't sweep you off your feet in front of thousands of fans? How will I cope?"

You laugh, setting your plate aside to cuddle closer to him. "I'm sure you'll manage. Just think of it as acting practice for both of us."

He wraps an arm around you, his voice growing softer. "You know, I always imagined the first race you'd attend would be as my girlfriend. With everyone knowing how lucky I am."

"I know, love," your heart swells at his words. "But hey, we'll still be together, even if no one else knows it."

Carlos nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You're right. And I am happy you'll be there. Even if I have to pretend I'm not crazy about you."

"Well, there's no pretending now," you look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Show me just how crazy about me you are."

With a playful growl, Carlos pulls you onto his lap, dinner forgotten as his lips find yours. In moments like these, the secrecy feels worth it - these moments are yours alone, untouched by the outside world.

As you break apart, slightly breathless, Carlos murmurs against your lips, "Maybe we can sneak a moment at Silverstone. A secret rendezvous in the paddock?"

"Now that would make headlines", you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. "'Famous actress and F1 star caught canoodling behind the garages.'"

"Worth it," Carlos grins, pulling you in for another kiss.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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carlossainz55 Beyond excited for Silverstone this weekend. Let’s do this 🙌

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username1 MY MAN

username2 he’s really the hottest man alive

scuderiaferrari We got this 😌

username3 SILVERSTONE MORE LIKE CARLOSTONE

username4 manifesting another silverstone win

username5 my girl yn in the likes she’s so real

landonorris 🥵🥵🥵🥵

↳ username1 these two being single right now just means they get to be menaces

↳ carlossainz55 Weird

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The early morning light filters through the curtains of your bedroom as you help Carlos adjust his red Ferrari hoodie. Your fingers linger on his shoulders, savoring these last private moments before the chaos of race day begins.

"Remember," you tease, smoothing down his collar, "hands to yourself out there, Sainz."

"That might be a challenge, amor," Carlos grins, his eyes sparkling, "Especially with you wearing my number."

You playfully swat his arm, adjusting the Ferrari cap with Carlos' number that sits atop your head. "I mean it. We've managed to keep this under wraps for six months. Let's not blow our cover now."

"Fine, fine," he pulls you close, nuzzling your neck, "But you owe me for this torture."

"Torture, is it?" you laugh, tilting your head to give him better access. "Such a dramatic driver I've fallen for."

"In all honesty," Carlos pulls back, his expression suddenly serious, "I wish I could shout it from the podium today. That I'm the luckiest man in the world because I have you."

"Soon," you promise, cupping his face. "For now, let's enjoy our little secret."

With a final, lingering kiss, Carlos reluctantly steps away. "I'd better go. See you out there, amor."

"Go get 'em, tiger."

Hours later, you arrive at the circuit, your stomach fluttering with nerves. The Ferrari cap with Carlos' number feels like a subtle declaration, a secret sign that only you and Carlos truly understand.

"We'll start with Ferrari," your manager explains. "Given your... interest in the team."

You nod, fighting to keep your expression neutral. If only she knew the real reason for your interest.

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles Leclerc first. Carlos had told you stories about his teammate before – his skill on the track, his competitive nature, and his charming personality. Now, seeing him in person, you understand why he's such a fan favorite.

Charles notices you approaching and breaks into a warm smile. He steps forward, extending his hand. "Hello there! I'm Charles Leclerc. Big fan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," you shake his hand, returning the smile. "I've heard great things about you."

"All good, I hope," he chuckles. "Is this your first time at a Grand Prix?"

"It is! I'm thrilled to be here. The energy is incredible already."

"Oh, just wait until the race starts. There's nothing quite like it." He pauses, then adds, "Have you met my teammate yet? He's around here somewhere..."

As if on cue, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Did someone mention me?"

Your heart skips a beat as Carlos approaches and it takes every ounce of your acting skills to keep your expression neutral as he extends his hand.

"Carlos Sainz," he introduces himself, a cocky smirk on his lips, "Welcome to our garage."

As you shake his hand, you're hyper-aware of every point of contact. This man knows every inch of you, has held you countless times, yet here you are, pretending to be strangers. It's thrilling and frustrating all at once.

"It's great to meet you both," you manage to say, proud of how steady your voice sounds. "I can't wait to see you race."

"Well I hope we make a good first impression," Carlos said, and the look in his eyes told you that it was taking everything in him to keep his hands away from you.

"Carlos is being modest," Charles chimes in. "He's had some of his best performances here. You might be in for a treat today."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing at Carlos. "Is that so? Well, now I'm even more excited to watch."

Carlos rubs the back of his neck, a gesture you know is partly genuine modesty and partly an act. "Charles exaggerates. But I'll do my best to put on a good show for you- I mean, for all the fans."

"I'm sure you both will," you say, including Charles in your gaze to avoid suspicion.

A crew member approaches, informing Carlos and Charles that they're needed for a pre-race briefing shortly, and at the same time, a photographer appears asking for a picture. You pose with Charles first and shortly after Carlos stands next to you, his hand almost squeezing your waist sending shivers down your spine.

After the photo, you reluctantly step away. "I should let you get to your briefing. Good luck in the race, gentlemen!"

As you walk away, Charles say to Carlos, "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

Carlos feels a sudden pang of jealousy, fighting the urge to declare that you're his. Instead, he replies with a smug tone, "She certainly is. But remember, we're here to race, not to admire the guests."

You make your way to the McLaren garage, where you're introduced to Lando Norris, Carlos' best friend. Lando's infectious energy has you laughing within minutes. You can see why he and Carlos get along so well, and you find yourself wishing you could share stories about your boyfriend with his best friend.

As you're about to leave the McLaren garage, your phone buzzes with a text from Carlos.

Against your better judgment, you find yourself making excuses to your team and heading towards Carlos' driver's room. You slip inside, closing the door behind you and praying no one saw you.

Carlos is there in an instant, pulling you into his arms. "Dios mio, do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you out there?"

"Behave yourself, Sainz," you laugh, melting into his embrace, "We have an image to maintain."

"Oh? And what image is that?" he pulls back, his eyes twinkling, "Because right now, all I can think about is how adorable you look in my cap."

"Flatterer," you tease, running your hands up his chest, admiring how the race suit fits him. "You don't look so bad yourself in this. First time I'm seeing it in person, you know."

Carlos grins, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. "Like what you see?"

"Maybe," you say coyly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "But shouldn't you be focusing on the race?"

"You're killing me, hermosa," he groans dramatically, pulling you back against him, "How am I supposed to focus on driving when all I can think about is you?"

"Well," you suggest, "Maybe you need some motivation. Win the race, and I'll give you a proper celebration later."

"Now that's what I call incentive," he pecked your lips, and suddenly his eyes light up with an idea. He reaches for his phone. "Wait, I need a picture of you in that cap. My good luck charm."

You roll your eyes but pose anyway, tilting the cap at a jaunty angle. Carlos snaps the photo, grinning widely.

"Perfect," he says, showing you the result. "This is going to be my new favorite picture."

You're about to reply when a knock at the door makes you both freeze. "Carlos? Are you in there? Last pre-race briefing in two minutes," comes a voice from outside.

You stifle a giggle as Carlos calls back, "Be right there!"

He turns back to you, stealing one last passionate kiss before reluctantly stepping away. "This isn't over," he promises.

"I should hope not," you tease, straightening his collar. "Now go out there and make me proud."

As Carlos heads for the door, he pauses, looking back at you with a soft smile. "Te amo, YN."

"I love you too. Now go be the champion I know you are."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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f1world THESE TWO 🥹🥹🙌

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username1 AHHH THEY LOOK SO CUTE

username2 i bet carlos’ fanboy ass was shaking

username3 they look so good together hello????

username4 not yn zendaya-ing

username5 HER SMILE

username6 love them so much they should date

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yourinstagram SILVERSTONE. In another life I was a F1 driver. Yesterday I got to hang out with real ones and their pretty pretty cars. And I did not play it cool 😌

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username1 AHHHH ICON

username2 QUEEN OF THE PADDOCK

username3 she should go to every gp idc

scuderiaferarri You’re welcome anytime 🙌

username4 “got to hang out with real ones” and just posts carlos

username5 WHERE IS MY LANDO X YN PIC

emmacorrin 😍😍😍😍

username6 CARLOSYN YES

charles_leclerc Lovely to meet you 😘

↳ username1 and she didn’t post him help

carlossainz55 An absolute pleasure to chat with you 😉

↳ yourinstagram Likewise !

↳ username2 DATE

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carlossainz55 Triple header done, time to recharge and come back stronger in Hungary! 💪🏻

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username1 CHILIIIIII

username2 of course he was going to post his pic with yn he's such a fanboy

username3 ICONS IN THE THIRD PIC

scuderiaferrari Always the Smooth Operator 🌶️

username4 YN'S FACE IN THE THIRD PIC

username5 i ship carlos and yn

username6 i like the british gp bc actual cool celebrities attend not like the miami gp

yourinstagram Amazing weekend ❤️

↳ username1 HELLOOOOOO

deuxmoi has added to their stories

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

After the excitement of Silverstone, reality had set in quickly. You had to fly to Switzerland for your latest film project, while Carlos was called to Maranello for team duties. The goodbye had been bittersweet.

Now, a week later, you're on set in Switzerland, immersed in the world of your latest film. The day has been long, filled with intense scenes and multiple takes. As you trudge back to your trailer, your mind wanders to your boyfriend, wishing you could share the day's triumphs and frustrations with him, but he was miles away.

You open the trailer door, lost in thought, and nearly jump out of your skin when you see a figure inside. Your heart rate skyrockets, then immediately settles as you recognize the familiar silhouette.

"Carlos?" you whisper, a mix of shock and joy coursing through you. "What are you doing here?"

He turns, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Surprise, baby!"

You rush into his arms, all exhaustion forgotten as he envelops you in a warm embrace. The familiar scent of his cologne wraps around you, and you feel the tension in your body melt away.

But as quickly as the joy comes, worry follows. You pull back slightly, glancing nervously at the door. "Carlos, how did you even get in here what if someone sees you? We can't risk-"

He silences your concerns with a gentle kiss. "Relax, amor. I was careful. No one saw me come in."

Despite your worries, you can't help but lean into him again, savoring the feeling of being in his arms after a week apart.

"I've missed you," you murmur against his chest.

"I've missed you too," he replies, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back, "It's like I'm addicted to you, I can't be apart from you for too long."

You look up at him, taking in the warmth in his brown eyes, the slight stubble on his jaw that you love to trace with your fingers. The realization of how much you've missed him hits you all at once, and you pull him down for a deeper kiss.

When you part, both slightly breathless, you can't help but laugh softly. "This is crazy, you know. What if my co-stars come knocking?"

"Then I'll hide in the closet like a teenager sneaking around. It'll be exciting."

He shrugged and you playfully swat his arm, but you can't deny the thrill of having him here, in your space, surrounded by the world of your work.

"How long can you stay?" you ask, hoping against hope that it's more than just a fleeting visit.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he says, a hint of regret in his voice, "I know it's not much time together but I really needed to see you, kiss you, just be with you."

"I have to go back to filming now," you say reluctantly. "But I'll be done in a few hours."

Carlos nods understandingly. "Go, cariño. I'll wait here in your trailer. Maybe I'll raid your snack stash," he adds with a playful wink.

You laugh, giving him one last quick kiss before heading out. "Behave yourself, Sainz."

The rest of your filming flies by, your spirits lifted by the knowledge that Carlos is waiting for you. As soon as the director calls wrap, you hurry back to your trailer, your heart racing with anticipation.

Carlos is lounging on your small couch when you return, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, his face breaking into a warm smile. "There's my star."

You collapse into his arms, sighing contentedly. "I still can't believe you're here."

After a few moments of just holding each other, you both decide it's time to head to your hotel. You peek out of the trailer, checking if the coast is clear.

"Okay, I think we're good," you whisper, grabbing Carlos' hand and making a dash for it.

You weave between trailers and equipment, your hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Just as you're about to round the final corner to the parking lot, you spot a crew member heading your way.

"Quick, behind here," Carlos whispers urgently, pulling you behind a large lighting rig.

You both hold your breath as the crew member passes by, mere feet from your hiding spot. Once they're gone, you share a look of relief and almost burst out laughing at the same time. The situation was definitely comic.

As you make your final dash to your car, you hear a surprised voice calling your name from behind you. Turning slightly, you see one of the production assistants, their eyes wide with surprise as they take in the sight of you and Carlos hand-in-hand.

Without stopping, you give a quick wave and a "Goodnight!" before practically diving into your car. Carlos follows suit, and you peel out of the parking lot perhaps a bit faster than necessary. Thank god you're not the race car driver in the relationship.

Once you're on the road, you let out a long breath. "Well, that was close,"

"It's okay, amor," Carlos reaches over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, "Even if they saw us, it doesn't have to mean anything."

"But what if they start asking questions?" you glance at him, unconvinced, "Or worse, what if they tell someone? Deuxmoi is already onto us after Silverstone, what if someone tips them?"

"I still don't understand what Deuxmoi is," Carlos looked at you with confusion, which made you laugh, "But we'll deal with it. Remember, we haven't done anything wrong. We're just two people who care about each other."

You nod, trying to let his words calm you. "I know, I know. It's just... I'm not ready for the world to know yet. To have our relationship picked apart and speculated about."

Carlos brings your hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "I understand. And we'll do everything we can to keep our privacy."

"Okay," you agree, offering him a small smile. "Thank you for always knowing how to calm me down."

"It's because I love you," Carlos says simply, his eyes warm as they meet yours at a stoplight.

The rest of the drive passes in comfortable conversation. By the time you reach the hotel, you're feeling much more relaxed, ready to enjoy your time together.

As you park the car, Carlos turns to you with a mischievous grin. "Now, shall we make another escape to your room, or do you think we can manage to walk in like normal people this time?"

"I think we can risk it. But if anyone asks, you're just my very attractive Swiss tour guide."

"Tour guide, huh?" Carlos waggles his eyebrows. "I can think of a few places I'd like to show you."

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you get out of the car. "Come on, horndog. Let's go before you get us into more trouble."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 26,839 others

gossiphub Guess who got caught sneaking out of a movie set in Switzerland? None other than actress YN and Ferrari driver Carlos Sainz! 📸 These two were seen holding hands and looking super close. Could this be the start of a new power couple? What are your thoughts?

view all 2,836 comments

username1 OMFGGGG

username2 AH I KNEW IT

username3 this was expected after silverstone

username4 THE POWER THIS HOLDS

username5 the couple we didn’t know we needed

username6 YALL what if they’ve been actually dating for longer 😭

username7 I NEED MORE OF THIS

liked by username1, username2 and 16,839 others

sainznews “YN is someone I admire a lot. Right now, though, I'm fully focused on the season and my performance on the track. I prefer to keep my personal life separate from my professional life.” -Carlos today !

view all 1,022 comments

username1 BROOOO

username2 he said you’re NAWT getting details

username3 bold of the interviewer to ask 😭

username4 i really want them to be a couple but maybe they’re just friends

username5 COME ON SPILL THE DEETS

username6 oh well

username7 his ass was shaking

liked by carlossainz55, blakelively and 2,309,681 others

yourinstagram The train ride home ❣️

view all 29,036 comments

username1 iconic behavior

username2 girl come here address the rumors

gemmachan A beauty 🤍🤍

daisyedgarjones 🥹🥹

username3 i love that both of them are just playing dumb

username4 CARLOS IN THE LIKES

username5 ah shit they’re not going to confirm anything

username6 CARLOSYN IS REAL

username7 potential it couple and they’re playing dumb

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The headlines hit like a tidal wave after your Swiss rendezvous. "A List Actress Spotted with F1 Star Carlos Sainz!" "YN and Carlos Sainz: Secret Romance?" Paparazzi photos of your flooded gossip sites and social media. Fans and media alike dissecting every detail of the grainy images.

You and Carlos spent hours on the phone, figuring out your response. "Maybe we should just confirm it," Carlos suggested one night, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Not yet," you replied, biting your lip. "Let's wait for it to die down a bit. We don't owe them an explanation."

So you played it cool, neither confirming nor denying the rumors. Carlos deflected questions at press conferences with his characteristic charm, while you posted on social media as if nothing had changed. It was stressful, constantly looking over your shoulders, but you managed to keep your relationship under wraps for a little longer.

However, as the world premiere of your movie approached, you made a decision. Curled up on the couch with Carlos during a rare weekend together, you turned to him, tracing patterns on his chest.

"I've been thinking," you started, your heart racing.

Carlos looked at you, his eyes soft. "About what, cariño?"

You took a deep breath. "I want you to come with me to the premiere. As my date. I'm ready for the world to know about us."

Carlos' face lit up with pure joy. He sat up, pulling you onto his lap. "Really? You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure," you nodded, cupping his face, "I love you, Carlos. I'm tired of hiding it."

He peppered your face with kisses, unable to contain his excitement. "I love you too, YN. So much. You have no idea how happy this makes me."

"I think I have some idea," you teased, gesturing to his beaming face.

Carlos pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "No more sneaking around? No more pretending we're just friends?"

"No more," you confirmed.

He kissed you deeply, pouring all his love and excitement into it. When you parted, both slightly breathless, Carlos grinned. "So, do I get to coordinate my tie with your dress?"

"Is that all you're thinking about? Fashion?" you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"No," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I'm also thinking about how I get to show off the most beautiful, talented woman in the world as my girlfriend."

The night of the premiere arrived quicker than you expected. Carlos looked devastatingly handsome in a sharp black suit, his hair perfectly styled. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, you caught him watching you in the mirror, his eyes full of adoration.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, smiling softly. "Nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am."

In the limo on the way to the theater, Carlos took your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. "Nervous?" he asked.

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "A little. You?"

"Excited," he replied, bringing your hand to his lips for a soft kiss. As the limo approached the theater, you could already hear the roar of the crowd. Carlos pulled you close, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Remember, no matter what happens out there, it's just you and me. Okay?"

"You and me."

The limo door opened, and suddenly you were blinded by camera flashes. Carlos stepped out first, then turned to offer you his hand. As you emerged, the crowd's volume doubled. Carlos kept his hand on the small of your back, a constant reassuring presence as you made your way down the carpet.

When you reached the photo spot, he pulled you close, his arm wrapping securely around your waist. The crowd went wild, cameras clicking furiously. You could hear reporters shouting questions, but you focused on Carlos, on the warmth of his touch and the love in his eyes.

As you made your way down the carpet, Carlos couldn't seem to keep his hands off you. He'd lean in to in your ear, his hand never leaving your waist. At one point, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, sending the photographers into a frenzy.

You stopped for a few interviews, Carlos by your side the whole time. When asked about your relationship, you simply smiled and said, "We're very happy together." Carlos would beam at you, his pride evident in every glance.

By the time you entered the theater, you were both giddy with excitement and relief. As you took your seats, Carlos leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. "You were amazing out there. I love you so much."

You turned to him, your heart full. "I love you too. Thank you for being here with me."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 20,836 others

gossiphub 🚨🚨CARLOS SAINZ AND YN HAVE ARRIVED TOGETHER AT HER PREMIERE IN LONDON

view all 3,048 comments

username1 OMGGGGG

username2 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES

username3 IT WAS REAL ALL THIS TIME

username4 power couple of the century

username5 they look so cunty omg f1 needed a couple like this

username6 FACE ECONOMY TOGETHER

username7 IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS TIME

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 2,974,644 others

yourinstagram My handsome date 🥰

view all 27,635 comments

username1 AHHHHH

username2 CARLOS I WASNT FAMILIAR WITH YOUR GAME

username3 man he is so HOT

andrewgarfield Can you get me tickets for a Grand Prix?

↳ username1 HEEEEELP

↳ yourinstagram 🙄🙄🙄

↳ carlossainz55 You’re welcome anytime, mate!

username4 yn blessing us with boyfriend carlos content already

username5 this relationship is the best thing that happened to us

landonorris Oh he showers

↳ maxverstappen1 Really impressive

↳ username1 THE GRID IS HERE

↳ carlossainz55 Cabrones

carlossainz55 I love you mi amor ❤️❤️

↳ yourinstagram 🥹

liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,937,267 others

carlossainz55 My 👸❤️

view all 29,022 comments

username1 OH LORDDD

username2 SIMP CARLOS

username3 he’s so in love my heart

scuderiaferarri ❤️

anasainzvdec Hermosa!

blancasainzv 🤍🤍🤍

username4 this relationship is a blessing for real

username5 CARLOS POSTING HIS GF???? HIS A LIST ACTRESS GF ?????

username6 i love them sm

username7 how long do you think he waited before turning his insta into a fanpage of her

fernandoalo_oficial 👏👏👏

pierregasly Double dates?

↳ francisca.cgomes PRETTY PLEASE

↳ yourinstagram Absolutely 🥰

yourinstagram I loveeeeeee youuuuu

↳ carlossainz55 ❤️

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Dutch Grand Prix in Zandvoort, the first race after the summer break. You were attending again, but this time, you walked into the paddock hand-in-hand with Carlos. There was no need for secrecy. You were here as his girlfriend, and the world knew it.

Fans call out your names as you make your way through the paddock, and you both wave, Carlos' arm protectively around your waist. The comfort of being able to show your affection openly still feels thrilling.

As you approach the Ferrari garage, you spot Charles chatting with some engineers. He turns and breaks into a wide grin at the sight of you two.

"Well, well, if it isn't the happy couple!" Charles calls out, walking over to greet you.

"Charles, I don't think you've been properly introduced to my girlfriend yet," Carlos laughs, pulling you closer.

You exchange pleasantries, and then Charles shakes his head, chuckling. "You know, I feel terrible now. I literally wanted to ask you out that day at Silverstone because I had no idea you were together!"

You all share a laugh at the irony, and Carlos playfully narrows his eyes at his teammate. "Watch it, Leclerc. She's taken."

"Be nice, darling," you swat Carlos' arm lightly, "Charles is just being honest."

As you watched Carlos chat animatedly with his teammate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of rightness. This was where you belonged, by Carlos' side, sharing in his world.

"Carlos, we need you for a quick strategy briefing," the engineer said, glancing at his watch.

Carlos nodded, then turned to you with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls, amor. I shouldn't be too long."

"No worries," you assured him. "I'll find ways to entertain myself."

He leaned in, kissing you softly. "I'll text you when I'm done," he promised, then followed his engineer out of the room.

With some time to kill, you decided to explore the paddock. It felt liberating to walk around openly, no longer worried about being spotted or sparking rumors. As you passed the McLaren garage, a familiar voice called out to you.

"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Smooth Operator herself!"

You turned to see Lando Norris grinning at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Lando!" you greeted him warmly. "How are you?"

"I'm good, but more importantly, how are you?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Finally free from the chains of secrecy, eh?"

You recalled the night when the headlines about your relationship with Carlos had broken, and Lando had been the first to reach out. That evening, over dinner at your place, you and Carlos had shared the story of your six-month secret romance with him. Lando had been surprisingly supportive, and since then, he'd become a close confidant and ally.

You chatted with him for a bit, he was someone always fun to talk to and you were happy Carlos had someone like him in his life.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a text from Carlos.

"Let me guess," Lando said, a knowing smirk on his face. "Lover boy is calling?"

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "As a matter of fact, yes. I should probably go."

"Go on then," Lando shooed you away playfully, "Go be disgustingly in love somewhere else."

You laughed, giving him a quick hug before heading towards the Ferrari hub. As you walked, you felt happy to be able to walk openly into his private space without worrying about prying eyes or rumors.

You knocked softly on the door of his driver's room. "Come in," Carlos called out.

As you entered, you found Carlos sitting on the small couch, still in his casual team gear. He looked up, his face breaking into a warm smile as he saw you.

"Hey you," he said, standing up and crossing the room to pull you into an embrace.

"Hey yourself," you replied, melting into his arms. "How are you feeling?"

Carlos pulled back slightly, his hands resting on your waist. "Better now that you're here," he said, his eyes twinkling.

You laughed softly, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Charmer. But really, how are you?"

He took a deep breath, his expression turning more serious. "A little nervous, if I'm honest. The pressure is high here."

"That's natural," you nodded understandingly, your hand coming to rest on his cheek, "But Carlos, you're amazing. You've got this."

"Thank you, cariño," he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly, "Your support means everything to me."

For a moment, you both stood there in comfortable silence, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. There was no rush, no fear of discovery. Just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment before the storm of the race.

"I love that we can do this now," you murmured, breaking the silence. "No sneaking around, no looking over our shoulders."

Carlos smiled, pulling you closer. "Me too. It feels right, doesn't it? Having you here with me, openly by my side."

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. "It does. I'm so proud to be with you, Carlos. To support you."

His eyes softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You responded eagerly, pouring all your love and support into the gesture.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment. "Ten minutes, Carlos," came a voice from outside.

"I should go," you said reluctantly, but Carlos held onto your hand.

"Stay with me?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "Just for a few more minutes?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand. "Of course."

You sat together on the small couch, Carlos's arm around you, your head resting on his shoulder. No words were needed; your presence was enough to calm his pre-race nerves.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt Carlos take a deep breath, his body shifting as he prepared mentally for the race ahead.

"Time to go be a superhero," you said softly, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

Carlos smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before standing up. "Wait for me at the finish line?"

"Always."

liked by carlossainz55, zendaya and 2,648,937 others

yourinstagram Heart eyes for my smooth operator 🥰

view all 28,044 comments

username1 AWEEEE

username2 she’s down bad

arianagrande glowiiiing ✨

username3 couple of the century

username4 i love how they were keeping it lowkey but now they can’t stop posting each other as they should

scuderiaferarri Our paddock queen ❤️

username5 yn don’t get used to the ferrari red you’ll be wearing blue next year

username6 GET MARRIED ALREADY

anasainzvdec 😍

username7 every time the camera showed her she was either panicking or grinning from ear to ear I LOVE HER

carlossainz55 Mi amor 🤍

↳ username1 CARLOSSS

↳ username2 that should be me

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 1,026,388 others

carlossainz55 P10 ➡️ P5! Beyond happy to share the race with my love @/yourinstagram 😘 Special weekend ahead at Monza, can’t wait to race in front of our Tifosi!

view all 19,739 comments

username1 AHHHHHH

username2 BEST COUPLE EVER

username3 YN DID HOT LAPS WITH CARLOS !!!!

↳ username1 BEST VIDEO EVER

↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

scuderiaferarri The Tifosi awaits ❤️

anasainzvdec 🙌

username4 VAMOS CARLITOS

username5 yn and carlos sainz dating is the best thing ever

charles_leclerc 👌👌👌

yourinstagram I love you 🥰🥰 I could get used to this

↳ username1 QUEEN NEVER LEAVE THE PADDOCK

↳ username2 we need her at every race

[phtosynthesis]

fruity drinks — s. reid

spencer taking care of you after girl's night with the bau ladies

𖡼₊˚⊹

The room feels like it's spinning a little by the time you make your way inside of the apartment, and the only thing keeping you tethered to solid ground is the feeling of Spencer's hand on your lower back as he guides you inside. Despite your obvious state of inebriation, you've convinced yourself that you're only a little tipsy, when in reality, you're on the thin line between very tipsy and clearly drunk.

You probably would've been worse if it hadn't been for Emily who decided to cut you off and then call your boyfriend to come get you, who despite your insistence to not call him because he was 'probably already asleep', was still up reading when he had gotten the call.

You knew he hated driving, even more so at night, so you were very appreciative to see that he had in fact come to pick you up, greeting him with a fat kiss to the cheek that left a beautifully glossy mark behind and left him flustered the whole drive back.

Said drive back was spent with you thanking him for picking you up before your head was lulling against the car window and you were drifting off. By the time he was lightly shaking you awake, you were already home, and the only thing on your mind was your bed.

You make your way inside the apartment on slightly unsteady legs before plopping yourself down on the couch with a guttural sigh. Your eyes fall shut, and your head falls against the back of the couch. Faintly, you register Spencer taking up space near you until you feel him lightly tugging at the bottom of your shoe. You open your eyes and watch as he carefully slips off your boots for you, wiggling your toes with a relief sigh once they are freed from their confines. "Thank you, handsome," you say softly, watching as the small smile stretches across his face. You always liked how he still got flustered at your words, even after having dated for so long.

You let him help you up from the couch and lead you to the bathroom, where he lets you sit on the counter while he rummages through the bathroom cupboards. He takes out some of your skincare products, dampening one of the cotton pads with micellar water before he starts gently wiping at your makeup.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he asks as he quietly works, out of curiosity and also as a way to keep you awake long enough to finish. "Mhm," you nod happily, legs absent-mindedly rubbing against the side of his legs as he stood between yours. "I missed you though," you add after a few seconds of silence, resisting the urge to pull him impossibly closer and kiss him silly as he wipes under your eye.

He knows you missed him because you told him so already. You hadn't been away for two hours until he got the text message declaring so, and he could only smile as he read it because he knew he missed you just as much, even if he knew you wouldn't be gone forever and that you eventually would be coming back home.

Your friends made fun of how attached to each other the two of you were, but you couldn't find it in you to care. You adored Spencer, endlessly so, and he always took such good care of you. Like now, as he stood between your legs in the middle of the night as he helped you remove your make-up, one hand gently working upon your skin while the other held onto your thigh, thumb rubbing over the skin there. Maybe it was the alcohol (it definitely was), but you could almost cry at how sweet Spencer always was with you. It made your heart ache almost painfully if you thought about it too much.

You took the time to admire him as he worked; his beautiful brown eyes and perfectly pointed nose. Lips that you wouldn't mind kissing all day long, that you wanted to kiss right now too.

Soon Spencer had finished cleaning your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek similar to the one you gave him earlier and helping you from the counter and into the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed before once again getting down on his knees beside you.

"Will you read to me?" you asked, watching as he helped take off your tights, a kiss pressed to each newly exposed knee once they were pulled off completely. "Of course," he agreed, even if he knew you'd be asleep way before he even finished a chapter. He reckons he'd do anything you'd ask him if it meant he got to make you smile.

[hivemuthur]

hey!!!! i saw that your requests were open and decided to give it a shot.

Can you write a fluff modern AU! Viktor x reader where reader is in a depressive episode (the bed rotting stage) and rly needs somebody near. (i hope you understand what I'm talking about :C, just really need smth like that)

its okay if you're uncomfortable writing that!!!

берегите себя.

Dear lazysocksato, I wrote you a little thing and I hope it makes you feel a tiny bit less shitty. And if not, that is also okay.

I Sink Into Bliss

viktorxgn!reader general audiences, Modern AU (if you squint), depressed reader, hurt/comfort or angst/fluff (I don't really know how writing tags work, it's generally Viktor setting impossible standards for real-life men)

author’s note: features a poem by E.E. Cummings. I wanted to give this request a higher priority, as I understand what a lifetime struggle with depression feels like. The picture is by me, I took it when I was particularly sad. There is one more ask with depression in it and it also has a high priority.

word count: 1,2K

—

A creak of the door lets in a ray of light, its edges sharp, dust motes dancing in the glow. “Hey,” comes a quiet voice, and you curl up tighter. Keep it to yourself; don’t hurt him. You desire nothing, but you need, need, need for him to be steadfast, unmovable, until you are ready to want again. So you turn to face him, letting him do his regular check-up routine, and with the rust in your voice, you say, “Hi.”

Viktor smiles, a glass of water in his hand, a book tucked under his armpit. “Can I sit with you?” He looks angelic, his hair illuminated by the light pouring from the corridor, refracted in the glass. The question, asked with enough space for you to say no, hangs in front of you, waiting for you to swing it.

But you nod and extend your hand across the bed. He props his cane by the nightstand and sits, squeezing your palm before giving you the glass. And you feel yourself suddenly more bereft as the image of something that is no longer there lingers in the landscape—it happens when his fingers brush against yours.

Your eyes sting with dryness as you draw a rattling breath. Every joint feels stiff, each minuscule movement sending a sharp crack through even the smallest ones—your fingers, your toes. You clutch the pillow tighter, desperate to muffle the outside world until it disappears.

He looks at you with quiet understanding when he says, “I have to ask. How are you feeling?” His body shuffles closer to yours, so the space between you becomes tiny and private, comfortable enough for you to tell him that you feel like shit. You accept the invitation to rest your hand on his lap, grateful that you don’t have to look at his face.

“Like shit,” you chuckle stiffly, and Viktor sweeps your hair away from your neck and smooths it with his hand. He presses his fingers between your eyebrows and drags them all the way to your temple. His hand rests over your ear, fingertips pressing gently above, massaging your head.

You hum through an exhale and add, “A little bit less like shit now.”

“Good.” His voice is warm, and you can feel the faint pulse of his heart under your touch, your palm resting beneath his clothes on his chest. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asks carefully.

“What’s to tell? It’s hard to describe,” you whisper as his hand slides down your back to rest on your ribcage, your heart adjusting its rhythm to his. “It’s very hollow. But I’m glad you’re here.”

He doesn’t ask why or when it will end, and you feel something close to gratitude for this version of you being accepted. His hand is heavy on you, forcing you to breathe slowly and deeply through your nose, and you allow your eyes to fall shut and water, just a bit.

“I will be here as long as you need me to,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing. He moves his other hand to comb through your hair and trace the features of your face, and suddenly you feel yourself deprived of a touch that is more.

You shift and wordlessly ask for permission to climb onto his lap, your arms hovering over his shoulders. He leans into your hands, draping them over himself, and props your legs to swing over his.

With your face pressed to the warm crook of his neck, you shudder and hear yourself saying, “I’m sorry.”

Immediately, his mouth begins to make soothing shushing sounds as he says, “There is no need for that, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

His scent fills your nose as you breathe him in, and you know he means it. I love you, you imagine yourself saying, the understanding of it absent but the knowledge present.

“I know, I just… I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” you say weakly, your words bouncing off his throat as he makes a quiet sound of veto.

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “None of that. I am glad to be here,” he murmurs into your hair and hugs you tighter. “Whatever you need, I am here.”

“Oh, you know,” you try your best to sound light, even though the request is unbidden as it pushes itself past your mouth. “Just some good old love, until this… passes,” you say in a small voice.

He pauses the glide of his hands on you and props your chin up to meet his eyes. “You always have it. It’s hard to describe.” You look at him pensively and see the sincerity of his smile, and your own mouth crooks into something smile-adjacent as you place a grateful palm on his cheek.

He picks up the tiny tome he brought with him and opens it to the bookmarked page.

“There are no words in me to tell you how loved you are. So let me read you something instead.” His whisper is confined; it’s yours, only yours. Even though no one can hear you—even if they stood with a glass pressed to the door—he keeps it a secret between the two of you.

You close your eyes and nod, your ear now pressed to his chest, arm wrapped around his waist. His hand holds you close, the book resting on his lap as he begins to read. His whisper is a husk, murmured against your skin, and the sound melts the icy bars around your ribcage.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)                                   i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

Silence, for a moment, as you breathe and feel a single tear rolling down your cheek, and with its departure, some weight is lifted. “Thank you,” you sigh into him, not really knowing what you are thanking him for. And when he speaks again, it’s as if he is coaxing your soul to uncurl.

“I mean it.” He places his hand over your chest, and his voice carries a reverence akin to a vow. “I will carry it for you, as long as you need me to.”

[revelboo]

Bro, you can't have me crying over tender-hearted spider-men like this😢

He just wants a friend

Disappear Pt 4

Tarantulas x Reader

• Clawed servos flexing, he works on tweaking the avatar and glances at where you’re stretched out on the scavenged mattress in your nest of blankets. Remembering the feel of your hand in his. Well, his avatar’s. You’re still skittish of his actual form. Watches you draw your legs up against your body, huddling deeper into your blankets. Cold? Mandibles shifting he sets the projector aside and lifts up onto his extra limbs, moving closer and easing down to crouch over you as you shiver in your sleep to tug your blankets more closely around you, a servo brushing you cheek and your skin is chilled.

• Startling as something thumps down near your head, you don’t move as his creepy spider limbs cage you while he pokes at whatever the thing is. And it begins to softly hum and- it’s a heater. He’d realized you were cold and made you a heater to keep you warm. Watching him stalk away from you to return to his work, you roll over to watch him. “Hey, Tarantulas?” Head turning and mandibles shifting, you make yourself look him in the optics. He still creeps you out, but you’re getting used to him. Suspect he’s really lonely. “Thank you.” You’ve never seen anyone visit him, no one ever contacts him. It occurs to you that you’re all he really has. And you’re scared of him and he knows it.

• Servos tapping on his work table, he vents. “If you freeze, who’s going to teach me to not be, what were your words? Serial killer looking?” He asks watching you smile and lay back down. And he’s half tempted to move closer. To try and coax a conversation from you, but he lets you be and returns to his work. You’re behaving only because you fear him, you don’t like him. You’re not friends.

• Stretching, you listen to the silence and try to gauge what time it is. And sitting up, you freeze. Because you’re free. Normally he webs you down before he goes to lay down to keep you from escaping. He’d forgotten. Pushing off the blankets, you stand up and go up on tiptoes to try and see where he’s sprawled on his front on his berth, a couple of spider legs and an arm hanging over the edge. Recharging. Heart racing, you move across the room. Hesitating at the open door of the crypt, your breath catches. All you have to do is go. Walk until you’re far enough away he won’t hear you when you bolt.

• Venting as he comes online, mandibles flexing, his head lifts and his spark constricts when he automatically looks for you on your little mattress. And realizes he’d forgotten to secure you before recharge. Primus, how much of a head start do you have? Is Ghost already on its way? Lunging upright with a snarl, he hears a little gasp and he freezes. Because you’re right there bent over the little cooler of food he’s been scavenging for you. “I swear you’re trying to give me a heart attack,” you mutter, turning your attention back to finding something to eat. You’d had the opportunity to run and you’d stayed with him? Hadn’t betrayed or abandoned him. Has anyone ever chosen him before?

• Stiffening as he stalks your way, his spidery legs come down on either side of you and your breath catches. Watch his head tip to make your skin crawl and you wonder why he has to be so damn unsettling all the time. A clawed hand lands near your hip as he leans down into your space to make every instinct scream to run. And he’s just staring, his mandibles slowly shifting. “After you eat your food, show me how to move correctly again,” he says, lifting up on his extra legs and walking away to leave you bewildered. Creepy, damn spider dude.

Previous

[blakeswritingimagines]

Rock My World (Little Country Girl)

Summary: Couldn't stop thinking about cowboy! Matt Rempe and now you have to suffer for it

Warnings: Smut, PnV, PwP, Talk of past hook-ups, cowboy/bull-riding Matt, Jealous! Matt, Mention of drinking, Friends with benefits type relationship, Public Sex, Wall sex, Talk of reader having a female body... can't think of anything else

Word Count: 3.1k

Matt slammed the door of the bar open and stumbled inside, his boots clomping against the wooden floor. His brown cowboy hat sat low on his head, partially obscuring his dark eyes. As he made his way to the counter, he spotted a familiar face sitting in the corner booth. It was you. Matt's heart skipped a beat as he watched you laugh at something one of your friends said. He felt a pang of jealousy as he saw a male companion sitting next to you.

He took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink, his eyes never leaving you. The drink arrived and he downed it in one long gulp. He couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he saw the way your companion leaned in close to you, a smirk on his face. Matt's hands clenched into fists, his thoughts consumed by the sight of you with another man. Taking a deep breath, he made his way over to your booth. The sound of his boots against the floor causing the conversation to stop. Your companion looked up at him, his eyes narrowing as he took in Matt's tall, muscular stature. "Can we help you, cowboy?" Matt's eyes flicked to the man before turning to you. "Actually, I was hoping I could have a word with the lady here," he said, his voice low and controlled. You looked up at him, surprise evident in your eyes. Your companion puffed up his chest, clearly not happy with this interruption. "We're having a private conversation here," he said, his voice carrying a clear warning. Matt took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I didn't ask if I could interrupt your conversation. I asked if I could speak with the lady." Your companion gritted his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides. But before he could say anything, you spoke up. "It's okay, I can handle this." Your companion looked at you with a mix of surprise and annoyance, clearly unhappy with your decision. You stood up, your eyes meeting Matt's in a steady gaze. "Let's talk."

Matt felt a flicker of triumph at your response. He nodded and gestured for you to follow him outside. As you left the booth, your companion called out to you, but you didn't look back. Once outside, Matt led you a short distance away from the bar where the noise of the rowdy crowd faded into the background. The cool night air hit you like a gust of wind, ruffling your hair. Matt turned to face you, his eyes searching your face. The silence between you was tense, the air thick with unsaid words. You waited for him to speak, your heart beating a little faster than usual. Matt was struggling to find the right words. He had so many things he wanted to say, but somehow they all seemed to get stuck in his throat. He took a deep breath, finally finding his voice. "You look good," he said, his eyes roaming over your figure. He looked down at his boots, the toe kicking up dirt. You felt a flutter in your chest at his compliment. You hadn't seen each other in weeks, and you had been expecting a different kind of greeting. You studied his face, trying to read his expression. "Thanks," you replied, your voice soft. "You don't look too bad yourself." Matt felt a small smile twitch at the corner of his mouth. He looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours. He cleared his throat, trying to push past the lump that had formed there. "That guy you were with inside… he your boyfriend?" You could hear the edge in his voice, the hint of jealousy. You shifted your weight, crossing your arms over your chest. "No," you replied. "He's just a friend."

A sigh of relief escaped Matt's lips before he could stop it. He tried to cover it with a cough, but it was obvious he was relieved to hear he wasn't your boyfriend. "Right. So, you just hang out with random men at bars in the middle of the night?" Your eyes narrowed at his tone. "I don't see how that's any of your business," you shot back. You took a step closer, your chin lifting defiantly. "And I can hang out with whoever I want, whenever I want. I don't need your approval." Matt's jaw clenched at your words. "I never said you did," he retorted, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I just don't understand why you'd choose to spend your time with a lowlife like that, that's all." You bristled at his insult, your temper flaring. "He's not a lowlife," you argued. "He's a good guy. Not that you'd know anything about that." Matt's eyes darkened at your jab. He took a step closer, his body nearly pressed against yours. You could feel the heat coming off him in waves. "Oh, and I suppose you think I'm some kind of monster, huh?" Matt's voice was low, his words a challenge. You held your ground, refusing to back down. "If the boot fits," you replied coolly. Your heart was racing, but you did your best to keep your expression neutral. Matt's lips parted in a wolfish smile. "You've always been a spitfire," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your face. "That's one thing I've always liked about ya." You felt your breath catch at his words, your heart skipping a beat. You didn't want to let him know how much his words affected you, so you forced yourself to scoff. "Oh, please. Spare me the sweet talk, cowboy." Matt chuckled, clearly enjoying how you were reacting. He reached out and traced a finger down your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "What if I don't want to?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting to his touch. "You can save the charm for someone who buys it, Rempe," you retorted, forcing your voice to stay steady. Matt's eyes flashed at your words. He leaned in even closer, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of leather and musk filling your senses. "You don't think I'm charming, honey?" he drawled, his lips brushing against your ear. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart thundering in your chest. You wanted to tell him off, to push him away, but your body was betraying you. "Charming is the last word I'd use to describe you," you managed to say, trying to sound defiant. Matt chuckled again, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. Your body instinctively pressed against him, your hands resting on his chest. "And what word would you use, darlin'?" he inquired, his voice a low rumble. You mentally cursed yourself for the way your body was responding to him, despite your brain adamantly refusing to cooperate. You tried to find the right words, but your mind was fuzzy with every nerve aware of his body against yours. "Arrogant," you managed to bite out. "Egotistical. Smug." A cocky smirk tugged at the corners of Matt's lips. His arms tightened around you, his hands resting possessively on your hips. "You forgot one," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Irresistible." Your heart fluttered against your will, your resolve starting to crumble. You tried to hold onto your irritation, but it was slipping away. "Don't flatter yourself," you muttered, but the words came out much softer than you intended. Matt chuckled softly, the sound sending vibrations through your body. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a smug smile still on his lips. "Ah, now that's not very polite," he teased, running a hand up your spine. "I think I should punish you for being so rude." Your breath caught in your throat again at his words. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away, to not let him get to you like this, but your body was having none of it. "Punish?" you repeated, trying to sound unimpressed. "And just what do you have in mind, cowboy?"

Your mind was spiraling. Your body was on fire, the feeling of him against you sending shockwave through you. You wanted to resist, to push him away, but the rational part of your brain was slowly being overpowered by the primal desire rising within you. "And what makes you think I'd let you?" you managed to ask, though your voice was breathless and needy. Matt's lips curved into a wolfish grin against your neck. He nipped at your skin, his teeth leaving a stinging trail on your flesh. "Oh, I have a feeling you'll let me do whatever I want," he murmured, his grip on your hips tightening. "And you're gonna love every minute of it." All the blood in your body seemed to rush downwards at his words. A small moan escaped your lips involuntarily, your body arching against his. You hated the lack of control you had over yourself when he was touching you like this. And yet, you couldn’t deny the heat that was pooling in your core, silently begging for more as if having forgotten all about the other guy still waiting for you in the bar. Matt seemed to sense your internal struggle, sensing the weakening of your resistance. His lips traveled up to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "You want me, don't you, honey?" he growled, his voice a mix of arrogance and certainty. "You just can't bring yourself to admit it." A part of you wanted to push him away, to run back to the safety of the bar and the man who'd been waiting for you there. But another part of you craved his touch, his dominance, the way he made you feel so… alive. With a sigh, you gave in, surrendering completely to the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins. "Yes," you whispered, barely audible even to your own ears. "I want you." Matt chuckled deeply, his hand moving from your hip to the small of your back. He pulled you closer, pressing his hard length against your lower belly. "Good girl," he purred, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "Now tell me what you want."

Your heart pounded in your chest as his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making it difficult to think straight. The alcohol clouded your mind further, rendering you incapable of resisting his demand. "I… I want you to take me," you breathed out, your voice trembling with anticipation and desire. You looked up at him, your breath hitching in anticipation. You bit your lip nervously, unsure of how to phrase it without sounding desperate. Finally, you settled for simplicity, whispering the words as if they were sacred. "Make love to me." Matt's eyes darkened at your request, his hand trailing down your back to rest on your ass. He squeezed firmly, pulling you flush against his body. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave lower. "That's exactly what I plan to do." As his words washed over you, a wave of excitement coursed through your veins, amplifying the throbbing between your legs. You could hardly contain the tremor in your voice as you replied, "Then please… I need you now." You reached up to cup his face tenderly, pulling him down for a deep, passionate kiss that left both of you panting heavily once it broke off. Matt groaned into the kiss, his tongue sliding past your lips to tangle with yours. He broke the kiss only to reach behind you, unzipping your dress and sliding the fabric off your shoulders. The dress pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching thong. He ran his hands down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with his fingers as he pushed you closer to the wall right outside the bar. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he muttered, his eyes roaming over your form hungrily. "And this ain't for your new fella, is it?" The heat from his touch makes your skin tingle with anticipation. You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, it isn't…" You reached up to undo his shirt buttons, revealing his muscular chest beneath. Your hands traced the lines of his abs, causing you to bite your lip to suppress a moan. You're unable to meet his eyes as he took in the sight of your nearly bare body. You shook your head, biting your lip nervously. "No… It's not for him at all…" You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. You moved to press yourself against him again, your body craving the warmth of his touch.

Matt smirked, his hands moving to unclasp your bra. He slid the lacy garment down your arms, letting it fall to the ground before reaching around to palm your breasts. He kneaded them gently, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples until they hardened under his touch. "So, you're telling me this pretty little thing is mine to play with?" he asked, his voice low and husky. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his hands move to your breasts, causing your body to shudder with pleasure. You nod eagerly, your cheeks flushed with arousal. "Y-yes," you stutter, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's all yours…" You lean in to capture his lips in a heated kiss, your tongue darting out to trace the outline of his lips. Matt groans into the kiss, his hands moving from your breasts to slip around to your back. He slid your thong down, letting the tiny piece of clothing pool at your feet before lifting you up against the wall. "Wrap your legs around my waist," he orders, his voice rough with lust. Your heart pounds in your chest as you obey his command, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. You reach down to unbuckle his belt, your fingers shaking with anticipation. You pull his pants and underwear down enough to free his erect member, which you stroke tentatively with your fingertips. Matt grunts as you free his cock, his hand reaching down to guide yours along his shaft. "Like that, sweetheart," he murmurs, his breathing heavy and ragged. "Just like that." He aligns himself with your entrance, teasing you by rubbing his tip against your wet slit. "You ready for this?" Your body trembles with anticipation, your walls clenching around nothing as you wait for him to fill you. You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes… I'm ready." You reach down to guide him inside of you, gasping softly as he pushes past your entrance. You arch your back, pushing your hips towards him as you adjust to his size.

Matt groans as you wrap your tight pussy around his cock, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He thrusts into you slowly, savoring the sensation of being buried deep within your warm cunny. "God, you're so fucking tight," he mutters, his voice strained with pleasure. He begins to move faster, his thrusts becoming more powerful with each passing second. Your nails dig into his back as he picks up the pace, your body writhing against the cold brick wall. You cry out in ecstasy, your walls contracting rhythmically around his cock as you approach climax. You lean in to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, muffling your cries as you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. Matt breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short gasps as he continues to fuck you against the wall. His hands grip your hips tighter, guiding your movements as he pounds into you relentlessly. "Fuck yeah," he groans, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That's it baby, ride my cock." Your body moves instinctively, grinding against him as he thrusts deeper. You moan softly, your voice hoarse from screaming out in pleasure. You reach down to rub your clit in slow circles, amplifying the sensations coursing through your body. You arch your back, pushing your hips towards him as you prepare for one final push over the edge. Matt grunts as you rub your sensitive clit, the extra stimulation driving him wild. He thrusts harder, his cock twitching inside of you as he approaches climax. "Fuck, I'm close," he warns, his voice thick with pleasure. He quickens his pace, fucking you mercilessly until he can hold back no longer. With a loud groan, he buries himself deep within your cunt, his hot seed filling you up. Your body shudders violently as he releases inside of you, the feeling of his hot cum triggering your own orgasm. You scream out in ecstasy, your walls clenching rhythmically around his cock as you ride out the waves of pleasure. You collapse against the wall, panting heavily as you come down from your high.

Matt withdraws from you slowly, his spent cock slipping out of your still quivering cunt. He pulls up his pants, zipping them back up before turning to help you fix your clothes. "That was fucking amazing," he murmurs, running a hand through his hair. "You're something else, sweetheart." Your body feels weak and satisfied as you lean against the wall, catching your breath. You smile shyly at his compliment. "Thank you…" You glance down at your clothes, fixing the last few details before looking up at him as you said the same words from last time. "That was just a one time thing… it can't happen again." Matt raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a wry smile. "A one time thing, huh?" He steps closer to you, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek gently. "Too good for the likes of me, aren't you? Just remember though, sweetheart… we both know you're lying to yourself because it never is just a one time kinda thing between us." Your cheeks flush pink at his words, your gaze falling to the ground. You nod slowly, knowing he's right. "Maybe… But it doesn't change anything." You reach up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek before turning to walk away, leaving him standing alone by the wall. "See ya around, cowboy." Matt watches as you walk away, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows you're lying to yourself, but he also knows better than to push you too hard. For now, he lets you go, content to let you come crawling back when you realize you can't get him out of your mind. As you disappear back into the crowded bar, he shakes his head and smiles to himself. "One of these days, sweetheart… One of these days."

[amoristt]

pretty little thing

「 ✦ hwang in-ho / reader ✦ 」

tags: nsfw MDNI // exhibitionism, edging, unedited pls forgive me a/n: when it is going to be my turn original request (x)

it's hard to breathe. it's hard to even think to breathe anymore, your lungs betraying your bodies innate need to inhale. nerves alight from underneath your skin in tingling and prickly flashes. you're trying to hold back the sultry noises mounting in your chest, you really are, but In-ho's got you essentially powerless to stop them. you even try to close your legs, to jump from his touch, but he's got you held fast and in your place. no where to go except closer and closer to the inevitable.

when you'd joined him in his suite and settled on his lap, it really wasn't for anything other than innocently lounging with your lover. it was his fault, really, that you ended up sprawled over him with your legs dangling over the arm of the armchair and his hand buried between your legs while the other propped you up at the shoulders.

his suit is silky smooth against your naked skin. almost as smooth as his voice as he spoke with a square guard merely feet away from you.

you had entirely expected In-ho to stop when the man had walked in but he didn't. he didn't really react at all, in all honestly. other than actually speeding up the tight circles he was rubbing into your clit, like he wanted you louder, wanted you wetter. wanted you some squirming pretty thing in his lap.

there was no denying the way it worked, too. riveting waves of shame and lust engulfed you, dragged you below the murky waters of sex. you refused to look at the anonymous man, burying your face in In-ho's shoulder to try and at least pretend like this wasn't doing something for you.

but really, it's like the day fighting the night. inescapable. all consuming. you can't stop the way you're soaking his thigh through the fabrics of his pants, nor can you stop the way you try to urge your hips into his touch when he presses just a little harder, a little deeper into you. more than once now you'd been right at the precipice, ready to tumble down into ecstasy, only to suddenly find yourself without as he drew his fingers away.

the first time it had been for shits and giggles. the second time, it was because he loved the way you pleaded with your eyes.

the third was when the guard had knocked at his door and was welcomed in.

you know he's trying to see how far you'd go in front of the man before you. he's driving you crazy, seeing how long it takes to have you stupid and downright dizzy with need. you're almost there, too, starting to allow your outer leg to slide off the arm rest despite the guards presence. it's getting harder to care with every second- but you still do. only enough, though, to keep you hiding your face into In-ho's suit and squirming in his hold.

In-ho's voice is low, steady. the guard matches his tone almost evenly but you can hear it- the way his words take a moment to leave him, his brain struggling to fully process their conversation with the lewd display in front of him.

you twist your fingers in his coat, whining only loud enough for In-ho to hear. "please."

he doesn't even acknowledge you. just continued his conversation with his underling as if this were a casual meeting. you weren't tuned into their chatter, you honestly couldn't give less of a shit, too focused on trying to finally cum. you rock your hips, just barely inching into the feeling, but the movement makes your leg slide off the armrest and suddenly you're completely exposed to the pair of eyes on you. you yip, throwing your leg back and pressing your knees together.

In-ho sighs, pausing his conversation. his arm holding you up shifts, and for a blinding second, you're afraid he's going to stop again and you'd have to resort to begging and pleading like a whore in front of a total stranger. but instead he just knocks your leg back off the arm rest and grants himself more access to your body. bursts of pleasure spark behind your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers, down to the knuckles and curling against your gummy walls. your voice leaves you in pathetic keens. but even with pleasure riveting through you like static electricity, when you can see the guard in the corner of your eye, you're trying to hide in In-ho all over again.

that actually earns you a reaction. he chuckles low and deep in his throat.

"so shy. she's not usually like this." he murmurs in amusement, and you realize that he's not talking to you in shameful terror. your face flames with a fire so hot it could burn.

with one leg hiked up on the arm rest, your other dangling over his lap and your toes barely grazing the cold floor, you can't even try to close your legs. good lord, if you thought your face was hot enough to burn before, this could scorch. you can literally feel the guards eyes on you, swallowing you whole.

you whine again, a high noise lost in the back of your throat as you struggle to have even an ounce of decency. makes you try to throw your leg back up, but In-ho shoves your thigh to stop you.

when you try to cover yourself again, there's a fleeting moment where you actually think you may have annoyed him because suddenly you're being lifted and spun around. he presses your back to his chest with a oof and hooks your legs under the bend of his arm, hikes your knees up, folds you on his lap with your swollen pussy on full display.

the cold air meets your sex and you can't help but cover your own face with your hands when the guard noticeably bristles at the sight before him. his spine straightens, his shoulders square. his hands twitch at his sides.

"that's better." In-ho, resting back in his chair now that he's got you trapped in place, snakes his other arm around you and rubs languid strokes up and down your slit. your head tips back against his chest, your breath escaping you in shaky moans. every time his runs his fingers over your clit you whimper, trying to rock your hips into his touch but finding yourself successfully stuck in place.

their all-business conversation picks back up.

a particularly dirty thought jumps to the forefront of your mind- a seedy little wish that grew limbs like trees throughout your body and only heightened your arousal. the mental image of In-ho fucking you like this, slow and deep, taking what's his.

but then you remember that there's a total stranger standing right there watching you mewl and agonize on his bosses lap. and fuck, even despite the shame, even despite the humiliation of it all, you're dripping down his knuckles. you try to urge him for more, desperate to be filled but he's got a grip so iron that all you can do is uselessly kick your feet and plead.

you're almost there, close enough that you can feel it in your fingers and toes. that simmering pleasure making writhe in his grasp. your thighs are starting to shake, eyes unfocused as you stared at the ceiling overhead. just a little more...

"that's all. you may go."

that beautiful mounting pleasure is gone. His hand motions to the door, allowing the guard to see himself out after their talk. if you could kick him in the head, you would. you wanted to strangle him for letting you get that close again without delivery. you kicked your feet again in protest, tossing your head back and huffing.

the guard nods. you watch him through your fingers and god, you're fucking disappointed that he's leaving. but then In-ho is touching you again and nothing seems to matter anymore. the planets realign, the stars collide. his sinks two fingers into your puffy slit and rests his thumb on your clit, resuming his rhythm of rubbing circles into you. you gasp, you moan, arching against him and curling your toes.

"please, please don't stop." you whimper, eyes half lidded, your chest rising and falling in rapid pants. he slides in a third finger and the stretch is just too good.

with the guard gone, you stop trying to hold back all your lovely little sounds. he hooks his fingers and presses right up against your sweet spot, and you can't help but squeal, grasp onto his biceps as your walls flutter around his fingers. you jump in his arms, gasping, struggling to cope with how good it feels.

you're so lost in the feeling that you barely register when In-ho starts talking again.

"what is it." it's supposed to be a question, but he says it like a demand. you lift your head off his shoulder, eyes cracking open in a haze of lust.

the guard is still there. they'd not made it past the first few steps, lingering. watching. their chest moving in shallow breaths. they seem to struggle to speak, as if snapped from a trance. finally, they manage to answer.

"i am sorry if this is out of line, but... may i watch her until..."

a bold request. the end of his sentence trails off, mesmerized.

In-ho just laughs, presses his lips to your temple and you can feel his smirk. "sounds like they want to watch you cum."

you shudder at the lowness of his tone- fuck, you're so close. you're right there, so much so that you really can't bring yourself to even care that you're being watched anymore. you grip tight to In-ho's arm for purchase with one hand, the other reaching up to tangle itself in his hair with shaking fingers.

"well?" In-ho asks with a honey-sweet tone, dragging his fingers to the edge of your pussy before shoving back in, watching you wiggle and twitch with want.

"yes!" you whimper. anything to cum. anything. "yes, yes, mnn- please, i'm so close-"

"poor thing," In-ho leans back in his seat and you fall into him even further, expose yourself even more. "i suppose i have kept you waiting."

you nod fervently, frantically.

yes, you have, you fucker.

the guard stands ever present and silent, but their hands are making tight fists at their sides. you're affecting them- you can sense it. it spurs you on, makes you decide to let it all go. if they wanted a show, so be it. you toss your head back into In-ho's shoulder once more and sing for them. your pussy is swallowing whatever it can get, greedy and desperate for more.

you legs start to shake again, your orgasm teetering already.

"go ahead. show them how good you feel."

this time, In-ho lets you have it.

and even though you felt it coming, felt the heat of it spreading and coiling within you, it still hits you hard and sudden. hits you with a force so strong it knocks the air from your lungs and you're sent reeling against him, arching your back, toes curling and uncurling as you cried out thank you, thank you, thank you.

if your legs weren't already pressed flush together, you'd have snapped them shut as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. in between your wailing moans and the lewd wetness of your sex soaking his hands, it's a song In-ho's come to love. come to crave.

something he was clearly happy to show off, his little pet so needy and receptive to him.

"that's it. there you go." he purrs in your ear, though it barely reaches you through your swimming ears. you're sure you've soaked his entire lap by now, still riding out the last winds of your orgasm. "such a pretty little thing for me."

he strokes through it you until you're shying away, oversensitive and in need of reprieve. you're still babbling thank you's when he addresses the guard once more.

"satisfied?" In-ho jeers, only prying his eyes off you to look up at his underling for a dismissive moment.

"yes." the guard nods quickly, their voice strained. "thank you, sir."

they scurry out of the room like a roach, but not before lingering on you for a long moment. they take a begrudged step back before turning away entirely, seemingly having to force themselves out of the room, disappearing behind the door before it clicks shut. you melt against In-ho, panting, damn near put to sleep. he pats your thighs and lets you crumble against him, unhooking his arm from your legs. you sprawl over him like an old blanket, used up and spent.

"sorry to have kept you waiting for so long." he breathes, kissing the top of your head. you shrug, breathless.

"s' okay. felt good."

he chuckles again, petting a hand down your hair, over your shoulder, down your side.

"always so patient."

you giggle. "i really wasn't."

"patient enough." he kisses the top of your head again and hums. from the table beside the chair, he plucks a glass half full with dark alcohol and brings it to his lips. the sharp smell of it makes you scrunch your nose as he takes a drink.

you know any moment now you'll be carted off to your bedroom and laid out on the plush mattress, surrounded by only the most exquisite fabrics and pillows, but for now you just enjoy the way he's got his arms wrapped around you.

[vodika-vibes]

All Of Me

Summary: When Rex and his Cyare get stranded on a planet far from the core, he decides to make the most of it.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 888

Warnings: Reader is self conscious and shy, reader described as having hair long enough to hang over her shoulders.

A/N: I was in a Rex mood, so I wrote this. Also, my form list changed suddenly, so if I missed anyone in the tags that's why. Stupid google.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Her fingers are gentle as they brush through his short hair. It’s so soothing and relaxing that Rex can’t help but tilt his head back into her hand. Drowsily, he peers up at her, and affection swells in his chest at the soft look on her face, and the gentle smile that lifts her lips.

Rex is lounging in the hot spring, a towel around his waist to shield his modesty (as if it’s needed), and his beloved is sitting behind him on the edge of the pool, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair loose around her shoulders.

Her smile is becoming more and more rare these days. He’s more likely to see a stressed frown or a distracted look on her face recently. And, while he’s not thrilled about the fact that they were stranded here while on a mission, he supposes that there is a silver lining.  

“You’re staring,” Her voice is soft, and musical in a way that his and his brothers will never be. He falls in love with her all over again, every time she speaks to him.

“Can’t help it. You’re stunning.”

She averts her gaze shyly, “The things you say sometimes.”

“I mean every word.”

His beloved has always been self-conscious about her appearance. If he asked what she liked about herself, it would probably take her half an hour to come up with something that isn’t something she does for other people.

Rex, personally, thinks it’s ridiculous.

He could, and can, list ten things he loves about her without even thinking about it. He can talk about all of her good qualities for hours without getting tired, and without even mentioning her appearance.

He might be a little smitten.

It’s fine.

He’s allowed to be a little obsessed with his girlfriend.

A soft giggle pulls him from his thoughts, “You’re still staring, Rex.”

“I’m thinking about you.”

“Yeah? Good things, I hope?” Her fingers still trail through his short hair, and he sighs contently. 

“Only the best things.” He reassures her before he catches one of her hands and brings her fingers to his lips, “I love you, you know that?”

“I know, I love you too.”

“You deserve better than me.” Rex replies. He genuinely believes it. He’s a clone, and she’s an aide to a Senator. She could do so much better than him. But she only has eyes for him.

She just shakes her head, “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

He threads his fingers with hers, “Join me in the water, cyare?” It’s an offer and a plea. 

She looks momentarily surprised, “I didn’t want to crowd you.”

“You could never.” He holds her hand as she stands, and he supports her as she steps into the steaming water. And, when it looks like she’s going to step away from him, Rex doesn’t release her hand. Instead, he tugs her to sit next to him.

The water sits higher on her than on him, and the tips of her hair settle in the water. She really does look like some kind of fantasy princess. Absently, he reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair off her cheek, only for it to fall right back into place again.

“You have so much hair,” He teases lightly.

A smile lifts her lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It makes up for the fact that I don’t have any.”

A laugh falls from her, and Rex grins before he leans in to press his lips against hers. The kiss is chaste, little more than a brush of his lips against hers, but when her free hand comes up to wrap around his bicep and his name falls from her lips in a sigh, he’s helpless but to swoop in and kiss her again and again and again.

His hand settles on her hip, squeezing tightly and pulling her closer to his side. She’s not close enough. She’ll never be close enough. She could be sitting on him and still wouldn’t be close enough.

She sighs his name again, and Rex chuckles as he presses his forehead against hers, “You sound lovesick, beautiful.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Yes, he is smug about that thank you.

“Can I—?” She hesitates, “Um…nevermind.”

“Mm, speak your mind, cyar’ika.”

She won’t meet his gaze, “Can I sit on your lap?”

Rex doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to answer. Because as soon as she makes the request (it wasn’t a request, he knows that, but he’s choosing to treat it as a request) he’s pulling her to sit sideways on his lap, “How’s this?”

She hums a response, her soft fingers moving to trace the starburst scar on his chest, as she lays her head on his shoulder. “Perfect.”

“You never have to ask, cyare. I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Rex replies.

She turns her head to kiss his shoulder, “Well then. I’m a lucky lady.”

“I think I’m the lucky one, actually.” Rex kisses the side of her head and tightens his arms around her as he lets the conversation fall. 

Eventually the ship will return and they’ll have to go back to being Captain and Senator’s Aide, but for now they can just be together. And he intends to make the most of it.

@heidnspeak

@adriennelenoir

@omegaprime18

@falconfeather23435

@yoitsjay

@kimiheartblade

@liz-stat

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@cc--2224

@kiss-anon

@0revna0

@mira-loves-star-wars

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

@bb8-99

@maniacalbooper

@bad4amficideas

@bekah_curlygirl

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@clones-cyare

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@trixie2023

@rebell-ious

@padawancat97

@sweater-sloot

@bekahcurlygirl

@continous-mistakes

@wax-birds

[joelmillerisapunk]

Wip Wednesday

Well well well here we are again Wednesday... hey look at us. tysm for the tags @probablyreadinsmut & @milla-frenchy

Today, I come to you with many wips it's truly insane how many wips I have on the go and idk why I have 1.5 million ideas. So I need your help... here's a poll and snippets of said options are underneath. Please tell me what you'd like first so I can try to commit to a single wip try being the keyword. K thank you, love you, smooching you 😘🥰

Dbf!Joel

The sight in front of him knocked the breath from his lungs. There you were, spread out on the bed, your hand between your legs, back arching as you chased your pleasure. His name escaped your lips in a hushed, broken moan, and he swallowed hard, his pants tightening uncomfortably.   Jesus Christ. He should walk away. He knew he should walk away. But instead, he stayed rooted to the spot, watching as you trembled, oblivious to the fact that you weren’t as alone as you thought.  

When you finally came down from your high, your body limp and sated, you turned your head—and froze. Standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, was Joel. His arms were crossed over his chest, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.  

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice thick with amusement. “Didn’t know I had such an effect on you, sweetheart.”   _____________

You swallowed hard, clutching the blanket tighter around you, your body betraying you as heat pooled in your belly. “You should go,” you whispered, but even as you said it, your eyes lingered on him, on the way his broad shoulders filled the doorway, on the rough edge of his jaw, and the way his shirt clung to his chest.  

Joel walked closer until his hand reached out, slow and deliberate, tugging the blanket down just enough to expose the curve of your shoulder. You shivered under his touch, his fingers grazing your skin like a brand. “You don’t really want me to go,” he said, his voice soft, coaxing, but laced with that undeniable authority.  

Pirate!Joel Your laugh echoes, bright and sharp, filling the cavern. “You didn’t need to. You were mine the moment you set eyes on me.”

His stomach twists at your words, at the possessive edge in your tone. “What are you talking about?”

You lean closer, your hair cascading over your shoulders as your eyes bore into his. “You don’t belong to yourself anymore, Captain Miller. You belong to me.”

He stiffens, his heart pounding as the weight of your words sinks in.

“I could’ve let you die,” you continue, your voice soft but unyielding. “But I didn’t. And now, you’re bound to me. Wherever you go, whatever you do—you will always return to me. You’re not free. Not anymore.”

bfd!Joel - for @yxtkiwiyxt nhie challenge You grabbed his hand, your fingers brushing his palm. Joel froze for a split second, the warmth of your skin startling him, but you didn’t seem to notice as you tugged him through the crowd.  

When you led him upstairs, Joel hesitated, his brow furrowing. “She’s up here?”  

You turned to look at him, a flicker of mischief in your eyes. “Yeah, just a little further.”  

Something about your tone made his gut tighten, but he followed, watching as you opened the door to a small bedroom and stepped inside.  

“Where—” Joel started, but you shut the door behind him, leaning back against it.  

The room was quiet, muffled from the party below, and suddenly, the tension in the air shifted. Joel’s eyes darted to yours, his brows drawing together.  

“Where’s Sarah?” he asked, his voice low and cautious.  

You smiled, your head tilting slightly. “She’s fine, Joel. I just… I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”  

Marcus Acacius - for @almostfoxglove angst challenge

“Quiet,” he whispered, though his tone was anything but commanding. It was desperate and pleading. He knew the risk of being caught, but it didn’t matter. Not tonight.  

“You don’t mean that,” you shot back, your voice hushed but breathless. “You never do.”  

Acacius chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “You’re right,” he admitted, before lifting you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his hips. “Let them hear. Let them see what you do to me.”  

You shook your head, biting back a laugh, but any retort was swallowed by his kiss. It was slow this time, less desperate, but deeper, like he wanted to savor every second. His hands roamed your body with a familiarity that still made you shiver, like he was rediscovering you all over again.  

For a moment, you allowed yourself to forget everything—the wife waiting for him at home, the life he could never share with you, the crushing weight of reality that would come crashing down once this night ended.  

But then his lips left yours, trailing down your neck, and your mind spiraled back to him, to the way he touched you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.  

“Marcus,” you whispered, his name trembling on your lips.  

He paused, his forehead resting against your collarbone. His breaths were ragged, his chest heaving. “Say it again,” he said hoarsely, his fingers tightening on your skin.  

You obliged, your voice softer this time. “Marcus.”  

npt: @thundermartini @itwasntimethatdidit40 @arcanefox207 @almostfoxglove @myownwholewildworld

@evolnoomym @ace-turned-confused @sunshineispunk @slimybeth69 @sawymredfox

@sunshinehaze1 @604to647 @aurorawritestoescape @hearteyesforjoel @gothcsz @baronessvonglitter

and anyone else who wants to just tell them I sent you lol

[avatarofthelesbian]

what tma fear domains I THINK (my opinion etc leave me alone) arcane characters would be trapped in with little explanation that makes even less sense (yes the web is here twice. so is the extinction. its arcane what did you expect.):

vi: a desolation domain (everyone and everything she'd ever cared for burns around her. she was never materialistic, but there used to be people in those now-smoking ruins. there were people that turned away from her while she felt the flames on her own skin.)

caitlyn: a hunt domain (she can never rest in the chase. one moment to consider sparing those in her path is her loss. the chase consumes her, but it will never end.)

jinx: a spiral domain (are their faces real? are their words real? is she real?)

ekko: an extinction domain (he is out of time, and even he can't fix it this time. there is a world, and he knows he breathed life into it. he knows there were others. but it's just him now, and they were no match for those that sat and watched it fall to ruin. concrete and rusted metal is all that's left now, and he knows it burrows so deep no roots will grow past it.)

jayce: an eye domain (he has to know. what it is that he has to know, he doesn't know, and it might well destroy him. he knows he is watched, but it won't sway him frim the path of discovery.)

viktor: a flesh domain (no rambling explanation here. you heard the part in mag171 about the cutaway tulip.)

mel: a web domain (every twitch of her fingers yanks on the puppet-strings attached to them, and she doesn't know if she'd rather the puppet hate her or be none the wiser. she's trapped in another web, though, and the pattern must go up forever.)

ambessa: a slaughter domain (she knows the war has a purpose. all wars do. the moment-to-moment blood on her hands makes the memory of that purpose slip away.)

sevika: a lonely domain (there are people all around her, she knows. some of them might hate her, she thinks she might try to lead others. the fog drifts around her face - they don't know her. somebody might have, once, but she doesn't remember them.)

silco: a corruption domain (his home is riddled with holes. he tries to repair them, to build a place apart from this, but the rot persists. perhaps the rot is within him, and he carries it as his home crumbles at the edges. he cannot save it, dearly as the rot loves him.)

vander: a buried domain (he shouldn't be trapped here. where 'here' is, he doesn't know, but it's dark and pressing. he is needed, but every cry of his name pushes the walls closer. his throat is full of mud, even if he could find the words to do what he needs to.)

singed: an end domain (he can't stop. if he does, the end will come for them all. his steps are slow, slowed more as he drags with him what he loves, what must not be terminated. it follows, that invisible cloud of death, and it will catch him and all he holds dear.)

heimerdinger: an extinction domain (he knows he caused this, that he sat by until it was too late to save what literal remained of the world. there is nobody left now, as he wanders the decaying remnants of the lives that people had begged him to change. he is all that is left, and he will continue forever.)

maddie: a web domain (they hate her. she doesn't know who they are, but they hate her. her wooden jaw is moved as a voice that belongs to thousands of tiny things spills from her mouth. she has no control over the show, but perhaps this act is the one that the puppetmaster will admire. it won't be, as much as her character tries to imitate it.)

isha: a dark domain (she is a child, after all. something big is coming, she cannot see it or hear it but in the blackness she feels it. she can't scream, and nobody is coming. she doesn't know what is approaching.)

i feel like some of these (silco and maddie especially) only make sense to me. oh well.

[diamonddaze01]

고맙다

pairing: ljh x reader genre: hurt-comfort (kae im sorry) | wc: 1.4k warnings: none | rating: pg a/n: for my 400 follower celebration -> @ylangelegy lyrics lab + “i wanted to become your tomorrow so i lived in the today” (thanks) // this is a (kind-of) spin off to us, again (but can be read alone) // kae i am sorry dont hurt me it ends well i swear.

The rain was soft but constant, like a whisper that hadn’t yet learned to quiet down. The sound of it tapping gently against the windows filled the silence of Jihoon’s studio, his hands frozen mid-task as he watched you from the doorframe. You stood there, not quite sure whether to step inside or remain in the hallway, as if the space between you and him was more than just the width of the door.

It had been months. Maybe half a year? Jihoon had lost track of time the moment you’d asked for a break. The day he left your apartment was still a vivid blur, a moment he replayed in his mind over and over, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. There were a thousand reasons why he’d never reached out. A thousand excuses he fed himself to make it feel like it was just something that had to happen. But in the deepest part of his chest, the place where he kept all the things he wouldn’t say aloud, he still missed you. He still felt your absence every time he walked into the studio, every time he poured a cup of coffee, every time he sat down to write music.

And now you were standing there, a few feet away from him. The ghost of what once was, the thing he’d never let himself forget.

“Can we talk?” Your voice was a little shaky, but you stood there with an open vulnerability, as if you had prepared for this moment even though you were uncertain of the outcome. Your eyes darted between his, as though you were trying to gauge how much of him was still the person you once knew, and how much of him had changed.

Jihoon didn’t respond right away. He didn’t know if he could, not without giving in to the feeling creeping up his throat. The one that said maybe, just maybe, you were still something worth fighting for.

“What’s there to talk about?” he finally muttered, his tone a little too cold, a little too detached. He wasn’t sure how else to respond. He had spent so long building walls around himself, convincing himself that you weren’t a part of his present anymore. He couldn’t afford to let that slip.

You took a step forward, your eyes soft with uncertainty. “I don’t know, Jihoon. Maybe... maybe I’m just trying to figure out what happened.”

There it was—the thing he never let himself think about too much. You asking what happened was like peeling back a scab that had barely healed. He couldn’t ignore the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him when you brought it up, couldn’t ignore the fact that he had failed you in ways he hadn’t even fully realized until now.

Jihoon looked away for a moment, unwilling to meet your gaze directly. He knew what you wanted—what you were hoping for—but he didn’t know how to give it to you. The pieces of him that had been holding onto you were all tangled up in regret. “What happened?” he repeated softly, almost to himself. “I don’t know. I thought maybe if I... kept my distance, kept working, it would get easier. But I was wrong. I guess we were wrong.”

Your face softened, as if your heart had just cracked open a little, just enough to let him see it. “I thought about it, Jihoon. About what we were, what we could have been,” you said quietly, stepping closer, just enough to bridge the gap but not enough to make him feel cornered. “And I thought maybe... maybe I wasn’t the right person for you, or maybe you weren’t the right person for me. But now, standing here, I don’t think I can just keep pretending that’s how it works.”

Jihoon let out a shaky breath, his fingers gripping the edge of his desk as he tried to find words that wouldn’t sound weak. The truth was, he hadn’t wanted to admit how much he missed you. How much he had wanted to fight for you, but had kept telling himself that time would heal everything. That you were just another chapter in his life that needed to be closed, but the more he tried to lock it away, the more it kept coming back.

“I kept thinking... maybe if I just moved forward, if I just stayed focused on what’s next, I’d stop wanting you. I’d stop thinking about you. But that’s not how it works, is it?” His voice was softer now, as if all the bravado had slipped away, leaving only the truth.

You shook your head slowly, the motion so familiar, so comforting, that Jihoon almost didn’t want to look away. “No, it’s not. We never really... gave ourselves a chance to be in the present, Jihoon. We kept thinking about the future, about what we could become. But maybe... maybe we should’ve just focused on today. On what we were, what we still could be.”

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. There it was—the words he had never been brave enough to speak. The ones that had been sitting at the back of his mind, waiting to be freed. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words feeling heavier than they should. “I never gave you the chance to be with me like that. I thought I had time, thought I had all the time in the world to make things right, but... now I don’t know how to do that.”

Your eyes softened, but there was something else in them, something deep that he couldn’t quite read. You took a deep breath, as though you had made up your mind about something, and it was in that moment that Jihoon realized you had never really stopped caring. Not even after everything.

“I was so focused on tomorrow,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain, “that I forgot to appreciate the moments we had, the moments that mattered right now.”

Jihoon swallowed hard, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Maybe I did the same.”

You stepped closer, closing the space between you both, and this time, Jihoon didn’t hesitate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, the touch almost tentative, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, your fingers intertwined, and for the first time in months, everything felt... right. Not perfect, not neatly wrapped in a bow, but real.

Jihoon’s eyes dropped to where your hands held his. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “Can I kiss you?”

The question caught you off guard, and a tear slipped down your cheek as a soft, incredulous laugh bubbled out of you. “Yes, you idiot,” you said, your voice breaking as you reached for him. “Please kiss me.”

And then his lips were on yours. The kiss wasn’t hurried or desperate—it was grounding, steady, and filled with all the things neither of you had the courage to say aloud. Your warmth, the familiarity, the way your hand cradled his cheek—it was everything he hadn’t realized he missed.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breaths mingling with your own. “I missed you,” he murmured, the words so quiet they almost melted into the sound of the rain.

You smiled through your tears, your hands still resting lightly on his cheeks. “I missed you too, Jihoon.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, the silence between you no longer heavy, but comforting.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Jihoon asked, his voice quiet, almost unsure. He wasn’t expecting an answer, but he needed to hear it, needed to know if there was a chance for them.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with something like hope, but also like you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. “We take it one step at a time,” you said softly. “We don’t rush. We just... we just live in today. Together.”

Jihoon nodded slowly, the truth of it settling in his chest like a quiet storm. He had spent too long living in the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. Maybe it was time to stop looking ahead, to stop worrying about tomorrow, and just... live. With you. Today.

And as the rain continued to fall outside, Jihoon held you like you were something he didn’t deserve but would spend the rest of his life trying to. One step at a time, he thought. Today. Together.

[duhshereadz]

Jinx and Ekko preparing for battle:

Jinx stares at the paintbrush in her hand, the bristles tapping softly against her palm. Her eyes flicker back to Ekko, who is carefully mixing his own colors in a cracked tin. A nervous energy hums between them, neither sure where to start, both on edge but oddly connected in this moment. She’s still wearing the remnants of her chaotic outfit—scorched leather, mismatched gloves, and the bright blue strands of her hair tangled like a wild storm. Her fingers twitch at the brush.

“Are you gonna sit there all serious, or are you gonna paint?” she asks, her voice a little too high-pitched, as if it might crack under the weight of the moment. She’s trying to hide it, trying to turn it into something playful, but the words feel like they hang heavy in the air. She stares down at her hands, the blue paint that’s already splattered across her palms, mixing with the residual powder of explosives.

Ekko looks up, his eyes softer than she’s used to. There’s something different about him today—something less certain but also more grounded. He tilts his head, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leans forward, setting the tin of paint down and picking up a second brush.

“I’ll paint,” he says, but his voice is quieter now. “But I’m not just painting, Jinx. I need you to listen.”

She raises an eyebrow. She doesn’t reply immediately, but her curiosity is piqued, despite herself. She twirls the brush in her fingers, her eyes narrowed in that characteristic mischievous way, but her heart’s racing, a nervous flutter in her chest.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m listening. You know I’m the best at everything, even listening,” she says with a wild grin, but it comes out almost fragile. She dips the tip of the brush into a bright purple color, the bristles splattering some paint onto her cheek in the process.

Ekko doesn’t smile this time. His gaze softens, the weight of what he’s about to say pulling him into a rare kind of seriousness that makes Jinx’s playful demeanor falter for just a second.

“You know how we both got here, right?” he starts, his voice low and steady. “How you got to be… well, this version of you?”

Her eyes flicker away, the mention of her past hitting like a punch in the gut. She clutches her brush tighter, her breath slightly sharper now.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I did a few things—exploded a few things—what’s your point?” she says quickly, looking back at the wall like she can hide behind the chaos of the artwork. Her fingers twitch with the urge to pull out one of her many grenades, but she stops herself.

Ekko sighs, his eyes distant for a moment, as if remembering something painful. He runs a hand behind his neck, avoiding her gaze for a second. Then, he looks at her, and there’s a quiet ache in his eyes. It’s hard to see him like this, vulnerable, but it makes his next words hit harder.

“I came from another place, Jinx. Another world. A world where things were… different. And you were different, too. Powder wasn’t broken. She wasn’t lost.” His voice cracks slightly as he says the name, the pain of remembering who she used to be slipping through his tough exterior. “You… you were good, Jinx. You didn’t have to be this. You could’ve been so much more. I was gonna save you. I thought I could—”

Jinx freezes, her fingers stilling on the brush as his words fall around her like rain. The name “Powder” sinks into her chest, a tightness clawing at her throat. She doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know if she wants to hear it, but part of her is already feeling that desperate pull, the old wound reopening. She looks at Ekko, his face so raw and open now, and something deep inside her cracks.

“Stop it,” she mutters, voice trembling just a little. She’s never been one for softness—never known how to handle it—but she knows something’s coming. Something's broken. And she hates how much she wants to believe him.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Ekko continues, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice soft but unwavering, “but I need you to hear it. You weren’t always Jinx. You were Powder, and you were good. You still can be. That part of you, the one that cares, the one that dreams—she’s still there. She’s not gone.”

Her heart pounds against her chest, and her grip on the brush loosens. She tries to laugh it off, but the sound is hollow, desperate. “That’s not who I am anymore. I’m Jinx.” Her voice cracks on the name.

Ekko reaches forward, taking her hand in his, his thumb brushing over the paint-streaked skin. His touch is warm, grounding, and for a moment, Jinx forgets to be afraid. He meets her eyes, and in his gaze, she sees a reflection of something she’s been running from for so long: the hope of what she used to be, and the possibility of being something more than the chaos she’s built around herself.

“You don’t have to be Jinx. You just have to be you. Whatever that means. It’s okay to let go of the bombs for a moment. You don’t always have to explode.”

For a moment, Jinx says nothing. Her heart hammers, her breath shallow. She stares at him, trying to read the sincerity in his words, trying to find some way to make them fit. But they don’t fit—not yet. She opens her mouth to speak, but instead, she suddenly stands up, her body tense, and, in a frantic movement, she grabs the nearest can of bright red paint.

“Fine!” she yells, her voice wild again, “But if I’m gonna be good—we’re gonna be good together, okay? You’re still gonna fight with me. You’re still gonna make things go boom!”

Ekko stands up too, a small laugh escaping him despite everything.

“I never said we couldn’t make things go boom,” he says, a little grin tugging at his lips. He steps forward, gently taking the can from her hands, setting it aside with a quiet chuckle. His fingers hover near hers, the air thick with tension. Then, without thinking too much about it, he leans in, just a little, closing the distance between them.

“Jinx,” he says softly, his voice low and steady. “I’m with you, whatever happens. You’re not alone.”

And just like that, the air around them shifts. Jinx’s breath catches in her throat. She’s never felt this way before—not with him, not with anyone. For a brief moment, everything inside her stills, and then her heart beats faster than she can understand. Her mind races—fighting to pull away, to push him back, but the pull between them is stronger than anything she’s ever known.

Without thinking, she moves forward, closing the space between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss is wild, unsure, and a little broken, but it’s real. It’s not the explosion she’s used to—it’s a gentle, messy collision. When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathless.

Jinx grins, her fingers trembling against his chest. "Guess we’re really doing this, huh?" she whispers, her voice cracked but full of a strange, quiet hope.

Ekko looks down at her, his face soft, but with a spark in his eyes that tells her, for the first time in a long while, maybe they could be something good.

"Yeah," he says, his voice steady, "we are."

[fantasy-svt]

Precious Jewel

Requested by @lachimolala-is-love-and-life Description: Minghao was a proud and feared dragon, usually holed up in his castle of wealth in hoards. Yet who would've thought that a found dragon hunter would lead him to the greatest jewels to join his hoard? Pairing: Xu Minghao x gn!reader Word Count: 1.8k words

Minghao was a well known dragon, causing rampage wherever he went. Among dragons he was worshipped, among humans he was feared.

Minghao relished in being praised and feared, usually sat in his castle filled with his hoard of stolen goods. He's spend his days either in the forest surrounding his castle and inspecting his territory or he'd be inside to inspect his hoard of money and jewels. He knew all of the pieces in his collection, every coin and every gem, and the same went for his territory.

So he instantly knew when someone had entered his territory. Footmarks left in the dirt, the stench of human lingering in the air and clearly the group had no regards for nature as they had carved into trees and thrashed the bushes. Minghao was quick to find the group and growled as he noticed them to be dragon hunters, their appearances making that clear.

They were sat in the middle, looking at a hoard of collection. Daggers made from dragon fangs or claws, gems made from dragon eyes and dragon scale armory. All made Minghao sneer in anger and his blood boil, but his attention was stolen when he spotted a figure tied up and unconscious on the edge of their camp. He went around, silent as can be and approached the figure before pausing as he felt his heart clench at the sight of you. While you were unconscious, he just felt a warm feeling in his chest that he could only describe as a fire around his heart. He grabbed you gently, undoing the binds before lifting you in your arms. He sneaks away, knowing he'd come back later for the hoard that the hunters were looking at. He walked away before flying up when at a decent distance from the camp, back to his castle.

When you woke up, you were utterly confused at where you were. You were laying in a large pile of pillows on the ground, covered by fur blankets. You sit up awkwardly, looking around the room. The room was large, brick walls and large windows that were covered by the red curtains. The fireplace was on the other end of the room, the fire blazing as the embers crackled just loud enough that you could hear. You removed to blankets and got out of bed, your bare feet hitting the carpet underneath you as you walk around quietly. Your jacket and boots stood by the fireplace along with some new clothing. You frown at the sight of a dress, touching the fabric between your fingers. While it was nice, you had not worn a dress since you were five as dragon hunting generally didn't work well in a dress. You let it lay on the seat as you put on your shoes and grab your jacket.

"The dress would suit you." A deep voice spoke and you almost jump, reaching for a knife that you unfortunate didn't have. You turn and look at the person who spoke before glaring as you realize he was a dragon. Tall height, his skin a soft tanned color, dark brown eyes with a certain warmth in them and reddish brown hair that reached to the nape of his neck. His horns are black, a rare ridged drake horn type, and he has a few red scales on his cheekbones. His wings were massive, a deep red color that matched his scales, and his tail was the same color as it swayed softly behind him.

"Who are you?" You ask and he smirked, showcasing his sharp fangs, before he walked closer, a clear confidence in his step.

"Some call me the red dragon of doom, others call me a king... You can chose what you want, little human~" He smirks as he leans down to match your height, making clear just how much bigger he was compared to you. "But if you wish, you may also call me Minghao." He continues as he stands back up straight.

"Now, why were you in a hunter's camp?" He asked and you frown as you look at him. "Wait... You saved me?" You ask and he scoffs, rolling his eyes as if to say "Who else?". You, however, can't help but scoff, not actually believing a dragon had just saved a dragon hunter.

"Why?" You asked as you stepped back a little bit again, watching Minghao carefully. He simply shrugs at your question, moving closer as he inspects you again.

"The dress would suit you well, lady... I suggest you change into it." He says once more as he tosses you the dress, not budging. You catch it and sigh, knowing you didn't seem to have much of a choice. So you took your jacket off, then your boots. Yet Minghao had yet to turn around, he didn't look like he even would with the way his eyes remained on your form and an amused smirk on his face.

"Normally, one would turn around." You spoke as you started undoing your shirt. Minghao looked up to your face, smirk not faltering as licked his lips. "Normally, yes... But I am enjoying myself too much." He teased, his eyes shamelessly wandering over your body. Then he sighed softly and moved, turning around anyway. "But have it your way, if you wish. I am still a dragon of honor..." He spoke and you roll your eyes as you change into the dress, which was surprisingly comfortable.

"That mark on your back... How did you get it?" He spoke, having turned just as you started closing the back of the dress. You look at him and debate whether you should tell the truth or not.

"A dragon..." You mumble as you finish buttoning up the dress. You watched him frown, raising an eyebrow after as he waited for more of an explanation. Then it seemed to click in his mind.

"That loot those hunters had... That was yours...?" He asked and you look at him before nodding, knowing it had no use in hiding it. His expression turned cold instantly after your confirmation, his hands clenching. You could sense the air growing hotter and couldn't help but flinch at the action.

"You're a dragon hunter." It wasn't a question, it was a clear statement filled with a venomous tone. You flinch again, stepping back as you saw fire forming on the palms of his hands and around his horns, his eyes flashing a dark orange color. You gulp as you take another step back.

" Not a hundred percent true...." You mumble as you take another step back. Minghao raised an eyebrow at your statement, silently asking you to proceed with explaining.

"I... I've only hunted dragons that attacked villages... My weapons and armor were sourced off of those dragons..." You explain, hoping he'd accept the reasoning. He seemed to calm slightly, the fire on his hands and horns disappearing.

"Evil dragons? That's your excuse?" He spoke and you sigh again, but nod anyway. It was the truth, you had no reason to lie now when your life was on the line. He watched you carefully before sighing, his fists unclenching.

"Name one of them?" He asks and you look up at him, feeling the air turn to normal again. You sigh as you try to remember the dragons you had killed before.

"Brymrath... Black dragon... In the North..." You mumble, gulping as you see Minghao raise an eyebrow at your statement. He seemed to ponder for a few seconds before scoffing. "You are telling me you killed a dragon who is even feared by dragons?" He asks and you nod slowly, biting your lip awkwardly. He walked closer and bend down to match your height, inspecting you closely again.

"You are fiercer than you look, huh? How'd you manage that?" He asks cheekily, clearly teasing you while still looking impressed at the fact. You just look away, feeling your face heat up.

"Mhm... Short ones are always the most fiery, huh?"

You didn't really know why you kept finding yourself back at Minghao's den for the millionth time. Ever since he had saved you from that camp, you had formed some sort of connection with him. You'd travel from your village to his den, which happened to be only a few hours away. Despite you still actively being a dragon hunter, you didn't care much and neither did Minghao. All of those things were forgotten as you two hung out. He'd tell stories of his far travels to different countries, explaining dragon culture from where he came and even tales of his family back when he lived with them. In turn, you would tell him about your own life and your culture. You'd spend days in his library, which was filled with thousands if not millions of old books, and usually found yourself reading by the warm fireplace. More often then not, that ended up in you falling asleep on the sofa.

Today was no difference as you laid on the sofa, the book laid open on your chest as you softly snored away. Minghao sat down on the ground beside you, a soft smile on his face as he watched you. Over the time spend together, he had grown to care about you greatly. Maybe it was his dragon instincts or maybe it was just his heart, but he couldn't help but fall in love with you. Everything about you felt just perfect to him, like you were the final puzzle piece to an endless puzzle. It was almost ironic how different you two wore and yet how well you two worked together. It felt natural, like you had known each other since birth.

He leaned closer, gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face as he leaned on the couch beside you, crossing his arms under his chin. He just watched you for a few seconds, his gaze softening as he saw how relaxed you looked as you rested. Then he stood up, gently grabbing the book from your hands and setting it aside before moving to grab a blanket to cover you. Then he stood up, his gaze remaining on you before he blew out the candles in the library, letting the smoke rise as the room grew darker until he could barely see in front of him. Then he sat down on the other armchair and folded his wings behind him, tail curling beside him as he watched you carefully. He was on high alert, wanting you to be safe more than anything.

At this point, he could care less what anyone would say. You were his now, he would protect you with his life. In his whole castle of hoarded items from gold to books, you were his most precious.

A precious jewel.

[mettywiththenotes]

Future Tomura visiting UA one day (he has a pass with him dw, Izuku invited him for a lesson) and just hanging out in the staff room while Izuku is getting some work together before break ends. He's sat there curled up, shoes on the chair, playing on his nintendo ds

One of the kids from Izuku's class comes in like "Hi sensei I was just wondering wha- IS THAT SHIGARAKI TOMURA, THE NUMBER ONE VILLAIN FROM 8 YEARS AGO???"

Tomura just throws up a peace sign and goes "Hey" while Izuku's like "Well, he's not a villain anymore, but yeah that's him. What were you gonna ask me?"

[meownotgood]

arcane season 2 spoilers

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"Can you feel anything?" 

Viktor's foreign body shudders against his will; your fingertips trace down his chest, tingling, sparking, akin to little specks of light burning into his second-skin. The sound of your muddled voice barely registers. His head tosses back with a slight thud, hair fanned out as a halo. He allows your knees to bracket his waist, and keeps his arms sprawled above him — despite the aching in his dead heart to just touch you. The pulsing of the arcane beneath his system is hardly under control yet. 

It would be a risk he's willing to take, a necessary step to learn, if it were anyone else besides you. 

And Viktor does feel — so much, in fact, but it isn't anything explainable. The festering in his core, threatening to come up through his throat. The whirring, the throbbing of every muscle, rich with glowing rivers of purple. Shining with a mixture of magic and energy and his own blood. 

He's only distantly aware of your hand when it reaches his stomach, examining the juncture between cool metal and unholy flesh. Gears and bolts mimic the outline of ribs. Your touches are curious, distinctly gentle. Picking up on old habits, and trying not to break him, still. Then, your palm reaches up; it boldly cradles his cheek, brushes his pallid skin. And this, he can sense. 

It's familiar, human. Excruciatingly soft when your thumb brushes the space on his cheek, just above his beauty mark. It puts an easy feeling back in his chest, something he almost began to believe he'd forgotten. As warm as a shimmering sun, as molten as liquid gold. 

Nothing else matters but this moment, but you, and him. There is no outcome, across each expansive universe and every edge of the arcane, where the two of you would not meet again like this. You were meant to. Born and reborn to. 

Your gaze finds his, soft eyes glancing down at him, your expression crossed between pain and relief. You eclipse all of his vision: light fuzzy at your edges, your face a hazy memory that he'd still see with his eyes closed. You're a reminder of what it means to be alive. 

Viktor doesn't envy you. You've told him of nightmares, before. Dreams you had before this, of your mind putting yourself through the tragedy of watching him die ages before you truly had to. It must be difficult to see him like this, despite your best attempts to hide any uncertainty. 

Your hand shakes. He can feel it trembling, unsteady on his cheek. And every molecule in Viktor's system explodes, laced with the yearning to remember — to let hazy lovesickness swell within his palms and his new figments. To pull you closer, in an effort to convince himself you won't be taken away. 

Every echo of you is innate. Your voice, your name, your fingerprints. Your presence has the Hexcore — or what's become of him, what has embodied the Hexcore — blissfully, endlessly silent. The way you look at him, soft and brutally innocent, puts a chasmic, vivid hole in his center. Gods, you still look at him the same, just as you did when the two of you were young and innocent. The rot in him tells him he isn't worthy of it. 

Viktor's eyes swirl like kaleidoscopes. Drops of crimson swirling in pure water. Your brows pinch, a sight he finds frustrating and pretty, as you silently examine him. Emotions curl in your lungs, tearing and hungry and knife-like; stricken with attachment, or perhaps blaming yourself, Viktor figures. 

Exhaustion runs heavy in your expression, reminding him of looking into a mirror. He knows this look. You haven't slept. Haven't given yourself any form of a break, it seems.

So, he takes a chance. 

Your hand brushes some stray, messy strands of hair from his forehead, just as Viktor guides his weak arm to reach for you. You don't tense, don't move. He can hear your breathing, thinks he can still feel his. There isn't an ounce of fear in the way you look at him. You have always looked at him like he holds the world in his hands. And now, perhaps he does. 

His hand finds your cheek, same as yours. Copying, following. Thin, delicate, purple-hued fingers trace the edge of your face clumsily, still learning how to touch. Still afraid the line between hurt and healing might be blurred, and you are the one person left that he can't let get caught in the crossfire. You lean into his palm, trusting, and let go of a breath that makes your shoulders shake with the weight of it. 

Viktor thinks of crying, despite the press and pull in his chest that convinces him he shouldn't be able to. He can feel you. It isn't like the few touches he's experienced so far, or the aching, anomalous strength he's been forced to get used to. It contradicts the very constructs of everything he thought made sense. 

Your skin is so soft, sickly familiar. Viktor holds your face shakily, afraid to move. He can feel your individual atoms. Innumerable sparks just beneath his touch, galaxies upon universes of stars in your name, that beg to be grasped, possessed, cured. He cradles you with all of the devotion of a prophet, with all of the tenderness of a past friend: an almost-destiny, a saved seat at the edge of something more. 

Would clumsily pulling you in, and pressing his lips to yours feel wrong, or tangible — like nothing, or like everything? 

"Vik?" 

Your tone, sweeter than honeysuckle, sweeter than anything he might deserve, brings his vision back into focus. He blinks. Gaze never tearing away from his, your fingertips drop to thread the hard edge of his collarbone. A silent plea, can you feel this? You find each curve of his bones and his body easily, the details already memorized. Viktor senses the ghost of you, your touch gentle, something like home. 

"I'm not sure," Viktor finally answers; and the scientist, Hexgate creator, still-ambitious part of himself is hardly satisfied with that answer. His voice is quiet, distant. As though he isn't there, despite the lingering, familiar tenderness to his tone. 

The fried synapses in his brain can't yet separate a caress from a threat, he just perceives the lingering energy. He believes you could be the one to teach him the difference. 

This time, you let your palm press flat to his chest. There's a hum that attempts to mimic a heartbeat, a lack of coolness or heat. The action presses your form closer to his, guides you to lean part of your weight on him to bring your faces far too close. Sharing in the same reflection. Allowing each breath to be measured, along with every hesitation. 

What should he start with? Should he embrace you, holding you tight and close like you're sacrificial? Should he grab your hand in his, press his palm to your skin to measure your heartbeat? Lace his smallest finger with yours, to make you a promise like he used to? 

He can't promise you peace, nor the life you deserve, but if you came for him now, was it not a swear to follow him anywhere? 

There are still so many things left to feel, and every red thread has always begun and ended with you. 

Can you feel anything? 

Viktor guides a hand over yours, keeps it to his chest selfishly; he meets your gaze, he hums, "Are you eager to find out?"