#ship: thrill of the chase

[championofthefadeocs]

Part 2 of being inspired by @sha-brytols post of picrews!

Aka Worldstate where one half of the pairing died except Aderith

[waterdeepthroat]

my hot veilguard take is i much prefer davrin/neve to either lucanis/neve or bellara/neve

[starchaserdreams]

"Basically the whole book they're like what if I fell in love jk jk unless"

[gabbytvclarke]

The dog and the postwoman PART THREE: I don't want you, I crave you

Part one here! ♥ Part two here! ♥ Part four here!

• Summary: Arthur Hill invites y/n to join himself, George, and of course Arthur TV on a platform roulette video. Arthur gets a little braver. • Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!George Clarke and friend!Arthur Hill) • Fluff with VERY SLIGHT smut, friends to something more... I thought I'd splice in some slight jealous!Arthur too for fun • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes, brief vomit mention, slight cheekiness/NSFW mentions • Word count: 12,889 words Note 1: Arthur Hill will be either referred to by his full name or just ‘Hill’ again Note 2: I picked the place at random and researched a few pub names and places, I'm sorry if some details are inaccurate!

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

It had been almost three weeks since Chris uploaded the pub golf video, three weeks since the shipping between y/n and Arthur begun, three weeks since #y/nTV began circulating on social media amongst the UK YouTube commentary fans. Y/n and Arthur continued to speak as ‘just friends’, or at least that’s what they told anyone who asked, but felt themselves getting closer and closer. They hadn’t seen each other in person since the morning after they met as their schedules were busy, but they played a couple of Minecraft sessions off camera together and began texting daily.

------

Y/n is only about four minutes away from the station where Arthur Hill, George Clarke, and cameraman James are waiting. She's running late, but late is never quite as perfected as Arthur TV himself.

In comparison to Chris’s shoot, y/n feels more at ease for today. She’s not quite sure whether it’s because there are fewer people and a lack of an uncomfortable uniform, or if her nerves are just deafened by the thrill of seeing Arthur again. Her mind buzzes with intrigue on where the adventure will take her today.

From a more predictable 27 minutes away, Arthur’s mind is also racing. Not just because he’s rushing, weaving around commuters like a chased gazelle, but because he is also just as excited to see y/n. Beautiful, hilarious y/n. The girl he’s missed since day two of officially knowing her. Her sweet soft voice plays on loop in his head from their Minecraft sessions, which had lasted late into the night and when hushed voices were a must. He too has enjoyed reading the viewers’ speculations and support.

His favourite recurring comments are oddly from the ‘y/nTV deniers’; who claim that he couldn’t possibly be into y/n as he touches her and jokes with her a lot like he does with his other friends. ‘If he really was into her, he’d be shy’ is their so-called proof. He finds it amusing how they think that that’s evidence, when in fact physical touch is his love language. Sure, he loves his friends and touches them a lot and sure, y/n is his friend, but his love for her is different. Love. He hasn’t said it out loud to anyone yet, not even to himself, but he’ll very soon realise that what he feels for her definitely love.

“There she is!” A beaming George calls as y/n scurries to the boys. He gives her a quick gentle hug before she scoots to Hill to give him one too.

“Hey bestie,” Hill grins, “We haven’t started filming yet. We usually start rolling when we see Arthur making his grand entrance through the crowd.” She pictures his wide eyed expression and athletic body gliding through her fellow train riders, finding the image hilarious. She introduces herself to James and vice versa in the meantime. “Do you know where we’re going yet?” She then asks the group.

“Nah, we wait until we start filming before we find out.” George replies, as Hill’s head dances around while he looks for the disorganised creator. “Ah, he’s just texted. He’ll be here in just a few minutes,” George confirms. Just a few minutes, y/n tells herself in her head. Those minutes feel like hours, that is until a wavy fringe can be seen bouncing amongst the flocks of people in his way. The recording officially begins.

“Fashionably late as usual, we wouldn’t have it any other way,” Hill starts. He turns to the camera and introduces the video as well as his ‘co-stars’, leaving y/n for last as the new guest. While he goes in depth about the concept of the series, Arthur greets the other two. He and George dap and bicker about the agreed meeting time. Arthur then turns to y/n and pulls her into a gentle hug. She can smell his aftershave again and he can smell her familiar perfume. “Hey you,” he utters quietly, a smile evident in his velvet voice.

“We meet again,” y/n replies as they move away from their short embrace, his stubble softly grazing past her cheek as he stands straight. They share a sweet gaze before both realising they are in fact not the only two people in existence. The rouletters learn their destination is Aylesford, Kent. With a dangerous 6 minutes before departure, they rush to grab their travel drinks and make their way to their first train.

Y/n enters the carriage first and nabs herself a window seat. The boys are still making their way down the aisle when Arthur calls shotgun for the other window seat, despite being behind Hill, making sure he sits opposite y/n. Hill instead sits to y/n’s left, George situates himself next to Arthur. They all crack open their drinks of choice as James sits beside the four, filming away. Y/n made sure she had a bigger breakfast before she left, knowing full well how hammered the boys get in these videos. They drink and chatter amongst themselves, which mostly means that George and Hill gang up on Arthur, while y/n laughs but looks at him with empathy.

The train passes a field full of sheep and the group begin telling as many sheep related jokes and puns as possible. “I’m woolly looking forward to exploring today,” Hill attempts.

"Really? I'm feeling a little sheepish" George adds, pulling a smug face towards the camera.

"Sheers everyone!" Arthur joins in, holding up his drink. George and y/n join in the cheersing with a 'waaaay'.

"I don't get it." Hill mutters quietly. George acts out using a razor, doing an impression of the motorised noise, giving Hill intense eye contact.

"Sheeps get sheered," Arthur says, accompanying George's actions, his eyebrows low as he too looks at Hill, almost with disappointment.

"I'm baaaaaffled that you didn't get that Hilly," y/n chimes in with a smirk. Arthur smiles proudly, a swift bounce in his eyebrows in amusement as he cheerses her again.

They approach their first changeover stop and follow Hill, who holds out his phone like it's physically dragging them to their next platform. They have plenty of time before this train leaves, so they don't rush this time around. James points the camera to George as he walks ahead with Hill, they mostly discuss Hill's already slightly tipsy state as the camera also catches 'y/nTV' behind them through their shoulders.

"I was wondering if you'd like to play a horror game with me on my second channel," Arthur asks, "everyone's begging me to have you on something of mine." Of course y/n accepts. They still have plans for y/n to guest star on the Bach and Arthur podcast, but they're still working through their current pre-planned episode schedule and Bach is on vacation. Arthur leans into y/n's ear, “I’m so glad you’re here by the way,” he whispers.

“Me too,” she replies with a genuine smile, internally bracing herself, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for that coffee!”

“You’ve… what?” Arthur forgets to walk for a moment, before his wide eyes dart to her.

“This way you two!” Hill calls out, the pair not realising that they’re walking the wrong way. They awkwardly laugh and scurry closer to George, Hill, and James.

Before the pair can continue their conversation, James points the camera to them. Arthur thinks quick on his feet and pretends that they were discussing something else. “Personally I think Arthur’s going to throw up first.” He states about Hill.

“It’s definitely one of you two,” George replies with a grin peering over his shoulder at the pair, “y/n in particular was wobbly as fuck at the pub golf!”

“If I remember correctly, your team came last Clarkey.” Y/n quips, sneering. George pretends he's fainting in response, letting out a high pitched sigh.

“This one guys!” Hill interjects, pointing his phone towards their next train. James moves to the back of them to film the group boarding the carriage from behind. Y/n kindly offers the window seat to the others, which Hill takes. George just shrugs and sits next to him. Arthur gestures to let y/n take a window seat again and then plops down next to her.

“Right then,” Hill starts, plonking the carrier bag on the table, still containing beverages and passing a can to each contender, “Drink up darlings!”

Y/n examines the contents, “God, I didn’t realise the alcohol count is 5%, we’ll be dead before we get there.” She states with a nervous laugh.

“Turns out y/n is the one who’s sheepish,” George points out, with a wink to the camera before his eyes go wide, “editor, keep all the sheep jokes in so that makes sense!”

As Hill and George are in deep conversation with the camera solely pointed at them both, y/n gestures to the arm rest between her and Arthur. “Mind if I move this?” She asks him quietly.

“Oh, sure!” He responds with an equally low, but enthusiastic voice as he lifts the arm rest out of the way. She shoots him over a faint thank you as they both turn their attention to the boys. Y/n rests her hands on the seat, either side of her thighs. While they listen to the Elvis impersonations George and Hill make back and forth for some reason, Arthur too drops his hand down by his side. Placing his hand fanned out on the chair, his pinky finger gently touched y/n’s. She looks down at the small connection for a brief moment, then shifts her gaze up to Arthur’s face only to see his chocolate eyes are already on her. His loving smile confirms it, it was a deliberate move. She shoots him a small grin back but immediately looks away so he can’t see the redness burning on her cheeks.

“How far are we now lads?” She asks kindly, as if her mind wasn't racing. Hill narrows his eyes at the digital notice from across the carriage, his lips moving slightly as he reads.

“Two more stops,” he confirms, “then we’re at lovely… where are we going again?” he lets out an awkward giggle before George chokes on his drink.

“Aylesford,” he answers between a mix of chuckling and coughing, wiping the spill off his lips. Arthur just grins and shakes his head as y/n laughs from behind her hand.

Arthur goes to grab his drink to take a sip, being right handed, but he places his hand back down so he’s in contact with y/n again and reaches instead with his left hand. Luckily it goes unnoticed, except for y/n of course. She glances to Arthur and can see a red tint in his cheeks. It could well be the alcohol, but it’s most likely the touching. It’s barely a pinky-promise and already the two are melting in their seats.

As the train slows down for the gang’s last changeover stop, they can’t help but notice the large amount of people waiting on the platform. “I think that’s the platform we need for the next train.” Hill murmurs with dread.

“Is there an event on or something?” Arthur asks.

“Hell yeah! They’re waiting to see us four legends, and y/n.” George jokes with a smirk. Y/n turns to him with a sad face, poking out her bottom lip for extra effect.

“Might be a bit packed.” Hill worries out loud. As the train slows to a halt, they all collect their empty cans and bin them on the way off the carriage. They head over to the other platform and join the herd. “The next train’s in half an hour if you’d all prefer to wait.” Hill offers.

“I’m pretty hungry, not gonna lie, so I’d rather stand for a couple of minutes and get there sooner and grab food.” George complains. James puts the camera in his bag, as they all figure it’s too crowded to film yet.

“I didn’t realise you guys ate proper meals on these videos, I thought it was drink drink drink.” Y/n points out.

“We usually eat shortly after arriving,” Arthur gently explains, “that’s why we seemingly go from zero to a hundred drunk towards the end, because after a while our lunches wears off.” Y/n nods, genuinely interested.

Arthur places his hand on the small of her back, his lips right up to her ear. “It’s because George gets really pissy when he’s hungry.” George doesn’t hear as he’s too busy frowning at his phone, googling the nearest restaurant from the Aylesford station. Even though Arthur whispers to her a lot, y/n still feels flustered over his warm breath blowing down her neck.

Their next train pulls up and the hoards of people clamber on. The gang all manage to squeeze themselves on but are have no choice but to stand by the doors. No one else is stood with them there, thanks to other passengers using the space for a couple of suitcases and a bike. Arthur reaches his hand behind y/n to hold one of the stanchion poles, standing close to her to keep her steady as the train moves.

James whips a smaller camera out, filming the four as they awkwardly stand in silence. Hill jokingly shifts his wide eyes around, all of them purposefully not speaking or engaging in eye contact for comedic effect. The train jerks around at one point and y/n instinctively grabs onto Arthur’s T shirt to ground herself, one by on his belly and the other by his back. She can’t help but feel Arthur’s firm torso against her knuckles as she grips the fabric. She immediately apologises and re-steadies herself, letting go. “You’re all good,” he chuckles shyly, secretly wishing she’d grab him again. His grin shrinks into a small side smile as he leans down. “You can hold me anytime you need.” He whispers cheekily, his lips grazing her ear. Thankfully the camera was put away again by this point. She can’t believe her ears. Those drinks must be getting to his head already, he drank more cans than the others did on the last train, after all. He stands straight again, still smiling. She tries looking nonchalantly out the window, as if what he said isn't driving her crazy.

“We’re stopping here,” George grumbles as the train slows down. The camera is back out and filming as the four step off and make their way to the exit.

“Right, so,” Hill speaks to the camera casually.

“Riiiiiight soooo!” George interjects immediately, mocking Arthur’s YouTube intro. Hill then starts doing it too.

“Riiiight soooo, um, we’re here in Aylesford, um-”

“OK, I do not go ‘um’ THAT much!” Arthur calls out as they all follow Hill’s lead.

“You do sometimes” y/n replies while cackling. George nods in agreement.

“Oh, shush you!” Arthur huffs with a grin, poking her side while Hill tells the audience which pub they’re heading to first.

However before they actually go there, they first stop off at a fish and chips shop just 15 minutes from the station, to shut George up. George gets himself a large portion of chips, Hill and James get mediums, and Arthur shares a large portion with y/n. They all walk an eat off camera as they slowly make their way to the first pub: The Chequered Inn. The walk is mostly silent while they feast, until they're all finished and the camera instinctively comes back on.

"Watch this," George giggles to the camera, evil written all over his face. He rushes quietly behind Hill and steps on the heal of his shoe, making his foot pop out and his clean white sock stamping on the concrete floor. "Oh fucking hell!" He yells with his head thrown back, the camera zooming in on Hill's now stained sock, before zooming back out and capturing the other three laughing. "Come here!" Hill shouts as George immediately runs away, almost getting them both ran over as they sprint across the road.

"They're like children," y/n chuckles, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the display. The camera is on them now, as they stand like embarrassed parents watching their sons fight.

"Yeah, children with weird shaped and sized heads." Arthur adds with a closed mouth smile.

"What?" Hill calls out as the boys walk back to the adults, both out of breath.

"Nothing!" Arthur replies angelically.

They all enter the first pub, Hill ordering a Guinness for each of the four of them, as y/n and George find them a table. They spot a booth and slide in. James stands with the two Arthurs up at the bar, hoping to capture any awkward interactions with the barmen.

"Giving the people what they want, are we?" George whispers to y/n with a smirk.

"What d'you mean?" Y/n asks, genuinely confused.

"Don't tell me you haven't seen the swarm of 'y/n and Arthur' posts sweeping the nation!" He responds.

Y/n slowly nods and begins to giggle. "I honestly didn't realise we were being weird, I'll try and make things less awkward between us." As they sit in their booth whispering to each other, they're very unaware of how close they're sitting. George with his arm draped over the back of y/n's part of the rounded booth chair, leaning over and face close to hers, only so they can hear each other over the general clatter of the pub.

Arthur glances over from the bar as Hill pays for their drinks. He sees the close proximity between the girl he has feelings for and his best friend and he begins to doubt whether or not she actually likes him, or whether she's close with all her guy friends. "Ready?" Hill asks him, slightly firmly due to how long he's been waiting for Arthur to grab the other two pints. Arthur unclenches his jaw, mutters a quick apology and joins Hill in bringing the drinks over.

George moves himself around to the end of the booth, allowing y/n to follow suit as the Arthurs slide in, and James sits on the other end. As Hill explains what 'splitting the G' is, George moves his arm so it's on his lap and no longer behind y/n. They all watch as Hill is first to drink, the foam landing almost perfectly as they cheer. Arthur is next, but he just over drinks it. He tries protesting but the other boys won't allow it.

"So close Arth!" y/n sighs teasingly, patting him on the back gently. Arthur snaps his head round to narrow his eyes at her playfully as he pushes her pint closer as if to challenge her. She gives it a go but massively undershoots it, not drinking near enough.

"Sooo close [nickname]!" Arthur mocks, purposefully quivering his lower lip as he looks at her with exaggerated pity. He rubs small circles on her lower back, pretending it's part of the sympathy act when really he just wants the closeness. Y/n laughs as she buries her head in her hands, also overplaying her reaction. She's secretly enjoying the contact though, it feels natural and almost domestic.

As the attention is on George and his split attempt, Arthur is unaware of the slight frown in his face. Hill leans to Arthur's ear, "You can probably stop rubbing her back now," he whispers with a cheeky grin. Arthur, who didn’t realise he's still doing it, casually drops his hand down from y/n's back, resting on the seat instead. He keeps his composure the whole time however, as to not draw attention. George perfectly splits the G and raises his glass as the gang applaud him, Arthur only donning a small smile.

George gets a phone call and attempts to have the conversation inside, but he can’t hear very well and so excuses himself and heads outside. Now he’s out the way, y/n sees an opportunity to go to the toilet. “I promise it’s not to vomit!” She giggles.

“It’s not pub golf, feel free to spew as much as you need.” Hill explains with a sneer, a sentence that’s oddly comforting. Once she’s out of sight, Hill examines James as his full attention’s on his phone, after having recorded enough clips in this pub. Knowing the coast is clear, he then turns to his fellow Arthur. “What was up with you earlier then?” He asks, a worried tone with a hint of accusation.

“What?” Arthur responds, his gaze darting away from where he last saw y/n and snapping to Hill.

“You, earlier. Staring at y/n and George,” Hill continues, looking around to ensure neither of the two return, “there’s no way you think THAT'S happening. Come on man.”

Exhaling slowly, Arthur’s shoulders relax. “Fine, they looked a little cozy and I didn’t like it.” He murmurs, feeling embarrassed at his own insecurities. “Y/n is absolutely George’s type too and it would kill me if it turns out she likes him.”

“Arthur mate, you’re so smart most of the time, but hear me out on this. You’re being dumb.” Hill puts his arm around him and jostles him a little, staring at him sternly in his eyes. “She is so into you.”

Arthur looks to Hill, surprised to hear someone say those words in a serious tone. Usually he didn't believe others when they told him before, because it seemed like they were just teasing him.

“You’re probably just anxious because you have a crush on her, and he’s one of your best friends. Our thoughts can be cruel to us sometimes.” Hill adds as he squeezes Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur looks down to the table, slowly nodding as he feels almost ashamed for his worries before. He feels guilty for mistrusting y/n and George, and was definitely letting his worries get to him. “Thanks, you’re right, I think.” He chuckles sheepishly. Deep down though, he won't believe it truly unless she tells him or makes a bold move to show him.

Y/n returns to the table with her usual sweet smile. “You two look very serious,” she starts, “everything OK?”

Hill sees an opportunity to be a pain in the ass, “Arthur’s just worrying over silly things.” He responds with a smirk. Arthur burns his eyes into Hill.

“Worried? What’re you worrying about Arth?” Her happy expression sours as she dons a concerned look. Hill excuses himself and goes to the toilet, patting Arthur on the back as he leaves.

“I’m fine, Arthur’s just being a dick as usual.” Arthur shyly explains. Y/n’s smile creeps back.

“That I can believe, but you didn’t seem yourself earlier,” she replies, turning her body to face him more and leaning closer, “are you sure you’re OK?” Her voice low and laced with care.

Arthur thinks about being honest, about explaining that he got himself worked up over nothing, but he spots George returning from outside out the corner of his eye.

“I’m OK, thanks though y/n. Just a little tired I think, I’ll be fine after a few more drinks though.” He squints his eyes shut as he shoots her a smile, a weight further lifting from his shoulders.

“You alright Clarkey?” Y/n asks as he scoots back in next to her.

"Yeah, just my mum." He replies with a friendly smile. Arthur looks at George, then to y/n, and is internally slapping himself for seeing anything other than a brother-sister dynamic between the two. He finds a new found confidence, although that could be also due to the Guinness from earlier taking effect.

"Oh, was she telling you how great I was last night?" Hill quips with a wink as he rejoins them too.

"You disgust me." George retorts with a low grumbly voice, pretending to be disappointed.

As they exit the pub one by one, Hill addresses the group; "Hope you guys are wearing comfy shoes, as this'll be quite a trek." They all nod, not minding a long walk. However, the next pub, Little Gem, is only a one minute walk away. In fact, it was caught on camera in the background while Hill made the joke. They all burst out laughing 56 seconds later when the adorable little sign is spotted, and they all enter.

The downstairs area is quite busy, so Arthur and y/n head to find a table upstairs while George volunteers to help Hill bring the drinks over this time. They spot a cozy corner and Arthur pulls a chair out for y/n, then taking a seat next to her. "This place is cute." Y/n remarks, her voice beginning to wobble, wearing a smile as she looks around the place.

"You'll fit right in then." Arthur states, beaming with rosy cheeks. Y/n turns to him in surprise, not expecting another bold statement from him already.

"Hmm?" She hums, her eyebrows high, the corners of her mouth slightly curving up as she slowly realises what he said.

"'Little Gem'. That could even be your nickname," Arthur adds. Y/n stares into his eyes, which are adoringly heavy as he leans in closer and continues, "because you're a rare find and your e/c eyes are beautiful, like gems."

Her mouth falling open slightly, her stomach flipping, all she can utter is: "Arthur..." under her breath. He chuckles in response, turning redder.

"So beautiful." He repeats quietly as he pecks a kiss to her cheek, right by her ear. His eyes still on her, watching her nervously stutter as she finds herself in a fit of small giggles. He figures that if he had misread the situation, she’ll shut him down nicely, but she hadn't and that’s why he can’t stop smiling.

“This is a quaint little corner.” George declares, snapping them out of their intimate peace. He sets their pints down as Hill follows, James filming from behind them. The guys take their seats. "Little Gem is the smallest pub in Aylesford." Hill informs his friends.

“To the Little Gem!” Arthur cheers, raising his glass, the others clinking theirs together as they echo him. “The most beautiful thing in existence!” He continues, shooting y/n a very sly wink before taking a few swigs. George and Hill figure it’s just Arthur being his odd self and don’t think too much about it. Y/n on the other hand can’t handle it, her face heating up.

“God y/n you’re bright red, you struggling already again?” George jabs, causing her to get the giggles again.

“Yeah, this is worse than your pub golf tolerance!” Arthur chimes in, making her cheeks burn more.

“I’m fine! There must be something in the Aylesford air or something!” She retorts, all flustered.

“Didn’t help that the first lot of drinks on the train had such high alcohol levels to be fair.” Arthur chuckles.

“And it’s very warm and romantic in this snug little corner.” Hill adds, wiggling his eyebrows.

After drinking their beers and engaging in general chitchat, Hill excuses himself and hurries off. The three speculate that he's soiled himself or wet himself, or both. George looks over the railings to see Hill has ordered a large tray of shots and watches him carrying it up the stairs. "Oh god, what's he planning?" George mutters to the pair as they watch Hill approach the table.

Once he's sat down, he announces: "I thought seeing as we're the only ones up here, we can play a cheeky game of 'never have I ever'!"

"Yaaaay." Arthur cheers quietly, the other two looking excited.

"OK I'll start," Hill begins, with a smirk, "Never have I ever... shagged a surfboard." George and Hill dart their eyes to Arthur.

"Y-You can't do ones that are only aimed at one person!" Arthur whines, half laughing, half surprised. Y/n stares at Arthur with a mix of shock and amusement, annoyed that she somehow hadn't heard this story yet.

"Oh yes we can!" George interjects with a cheeky giggle.

"Arthur, your turn." Hill directs.

"OK," Arthur pauses for thought, "OK, never have I ever filmed a video with someone I didn't like." A couple of 'oooh's murmur across the table and everyone takes a shot.

"Y/n! Really!" Arthur yells, the drinks already ramping up his volume, "I can't imagine you hating anyone!"

"I don't! I don't hate them, we just didn't gel!" Y/n cries in defense.

"You'll have to spill the tea later" George chuckles, giving her a gentle nudge with his elbow.

"OK, never have I ever..." Y/n starts, "... Gave a girl the ick because I was IDed on a date." She grins at Arthur.

"Oi! We said no obviously targeted ones!" Arthur shouts, pointing his finger at her as he watches her laugh.

"Who's we?" Hill asks mischievously.

"Yeah, you're the only one bitchin'." George teases in a condescending tone, his arms crossed.

"How did you know about that?" Arthur whispers to y/n, a playful smile across his face.

"I saw you talk about it, I think in a video with Cam." She explains, still amused.

"Anyway!" George calls, eager to take his turn. He looks at the other three players, a certain glint in his eye. "Never have I ever really liked someone I filmed a video with."

Y/n takes a shot without hesitation. The two Arthurs both ask if he means having a crush on someone, which George nods before downing a shot himself. Arthur hesitates, then also takes one.

"Really?" Hill enquires, clasping his hands together like a movie villain. "Anyone want to fess up?" The three all yell 'no', almost in unison.

The game continues for a while, turning into a game of 'who can get the others drunk the quickest', all picking specific declarations to target the others, but none of them taking the game too far or revealing actual secrets. Once the shots are all gone, the recording stops while the four give the alcohol a chance to sit in their systems, before heading off to the next pub.

As they head out, all but George are slightly beyond tipsy. "OK guys, this pub is actually quite a long walk away." Hill warns, before winking at the camera. He leads the group, George right behind him scrolling through his phone. Y/n and Arthur walk side by side. "I can't believe how many weird experiences you've had," Arthur chuckles as he looks at her, more interested in her than ever. The game revealed some truths that Arthur hadn't learned yet.

"I guess I'm a wild one!" She chuckles as she shrugs.

Arthur wraps his arm around her and pulls her closer to him as they walk, he leans down with his lips right by her ear. "I'd love to see your wild side" He whispers, then easing his grasp.

Before she can react, Hill makes a sudden turn to The Bush, the third pub, which is only a two minute walk from Little Gem. "Where are you- oh my god." George groans. Hill laughs, holding his arms outwards as if he'll get an applause.

"'The Bush'?" Arthur asks with a hint of immaturity.

"Please don't use this pub as another nickname for me." Y/n quips, just loud enough for Arthur to hear, making him throw his head back with an unapologetically loud laugh.

The noise of the pub paired with the copyrighted music leads the group to head out to the pub garden. They take their seats at one of the tables under a large parasol, out of the English sun, just a few hours before it begins setting.

Hill asks y/n this time to help him carry out the drinks, some fruity ciders. They head back inside where there's already a small queue.

"So, you enjoying your platform roulette debut so far?" Hill asks.

"I'm loving it so much, thanks again for the invite."

"Good good, though I doubt you're enjoying it as much as Arthur," He teases.

She narrows her eyes, confused. "What?"

"You and Arthur, the flirting. It's cute honestly," Hill explains, y/n looks down embarrassed, completely unaware of how obvious they were being, "I don't think I've ever seen him this chirpy."

"Really?" She asks, a smile growing.

"Well, apart from your pub golf video and its unseen bits," he continues as y/n shyly picks at her fingers, "Arthur's the happiest person I've ever met, and you managed to make him even happier. Wow."

Meanwhile outside, George taps Arthur on the back while he scrolls through emails on his phone. "Mate, you need to ask her out." George states, point blank.

"Who?" Arthur attempts, even trying to look confused by frowning. George rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"You know exactly who I mean," George snaps back, Arthur exhales and drops his shoulders, "what are you waiting for?"

"I don't know, I'm just nervous that she's not into me. I don't want to ask her out and she says no and doesn't want to even be my friend-"

"You really think she doesn't like you back?" George scoffs, smirking as he looks into Arthur's eyes through furrowed brows. "You don't see the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at you, or the way she blushes when she laughs at your jokes. She didn't tell you off when you kissed her cheek even-"

"You saw that?" Arthur yells, his voice breaking. He clasps a hand to his mouth as George shushes him.

"Yes and I've known y/n longer than you. Trust me, if she didn't like you, she certainly wouldn't let you do that." He pinches Arthur's cheek and lightly jiggles him. Arthur swats his hand away. "I've never seen her with a crush before, until she met you."

As they spot y/n and Hill slowly walking to their table with the drinks, George and Arthur sit up straight in an attempt to look like they weren't just discussing anyone.

Y/n sits opposite Arthur. For the first time, she notices how Arthur's gorgeous chocolate eyes light up when they share a gaze. Arthur spots the flush on her cheeks that George had mentioned just earlier.

With the camera rolling, George decides to make the others play a game of 'name that tune'. He starts by humming the instrumental part of 'Late for the Reservation', kindly giving Hill some free advertising.

"Oh! Late for the Reservation!" Y/n guesses excitedly. George nods while Hill bows his head with a shy smile. He turns to the camera.

"This sounds planned but it wasn't, but you can listen to Late for the Reservation now!"

The group carries on the game for a little while, Hill surprisingly being awful at guessing despite his field of expertise. Arthur downs the rest of his drink and suddenly clears his throat.

"Sorry guys, I've just got to make a quick phone call. I'll be right back." He explains, before rushing through the pub to get to the front door.

The other three continue their game. Y/n begins humming 'Lily'. She can see in George's eyes that he gets the song right away, but he pretends not to to see how long it takes Hill to guess it.

After a further 10 seconds, George bursts out laughing. "There's no way you're not getting this!" He snorts, while y/n continues humming with a grin.

"I genuinely don't know!" Hill cries while laughing awkwardly, causing the other two to chortle.

"It's YOUR song!" They both yell.

"Oh, Lily..." Hill mutters as he slowly puts his head in his hands, chuckling with shame.

Suddenly, y/n's phone buzzes. "Oh, it's Arthur," she states to the guys, "it says: 'Come to the front, you NEED to see this!'" She takes the last couple of sips of her cider before standing up, her head rushing.

George's phone also buzzes, he reads the text in his head and elbows Hill to show him. He reads it too and nods. "You guys coming?" Y/n asks the pair kindly.

"I would but my head's swirling." Hill lies.

"And I'd better stay in case he falls into a cider-induced coma." George adds. James puts is camera down and enjoys his drink as y/n shrugs and heads to the front of the pub.

"Hey Arth!" Y/n says joyfully, startling Arthur as he puts his phone away quickly.

"There you are!" He beams, putting his hands in his pockets. She steps fully outside and leans against the wall, next to him.

"What are we looking at?" She asks sweetly, looking around the street for a cute dog or something.

"Oh, um actually, I wanted you to come out here to have some alone time away from the guys and the camera." He explains, struggling to maintain eye contact.

"Ah, OK," y/n responds, a little confused but not judging, "is everything alright?"

A smile creeps up on Arthur's lips. Even when he's being weird and awkward, y/n isn't fazed and just shows care for him.

"Everything is great, absolutely fine," he replies, his eyes soften as he looks at her, "in fact, my life has greatly improved ever since I-"

"OH MY GOD IS THAT ARTHUR TV?" A random voice screeches from across the road. The pair snap their heads to the source of the noise and see a small group of teenagers. The girls giggle as they shove each other before running up to them. The boys of the group stay back and watch. "Oh my god I watch your videos all the time!" One of them calls out. Amongst the girls' excitement, one of them pushes y/n out the way as they ask Arthur for a selfie. Y/n stumbles a little but steadies herself against the wall.

"Woah, careful!" Arthur chuckles, trying to keep a peaceful vibe whilst secretly being annoyed that y/n got shoved. The pushy girl takes a selfie with Arthur, just the two of them. "Hey, um, can you take a picture of us with him?" One of the other girls asks y/n.

"Of course I can," y/n kindly obliges, taking the phone off the girl and snapping multiple photos. One of the girls posing with Arthur suddenly goes wide eyed.

"It's y/n from yt/n! Oh my gosh!" She calls out. Her and another girl who’s standing with Arthur suddenly rushes to y/n's side for a photo. "I loved you in pub golf, you and Arthur had such funny moments!"

Y/n gets flustered, as she's not as big as the other guys and still isn't quite used to being 'spotted'. Arthur offers to take a photo for the girls, beaming at y/n's humble reaction.

"Wait, is George inside? George Clarke?" One of them asks, looking at herself in her phone's front facing camera and adjusting her hair. Y/n and Arthur nod.

"And Arthur Hill," Y/n adds with a grin, "they're in the pub garden." They girls squeal and all rush inside. Y/n and Arthur look at each other and exhale at the same time. They then hear the excited screams from the other side of the pub.

“What were you saying?” Y/n asks politely. Arthur prepares to answer but spots the teenage boys coming over, presumably to fetch the girls. They send y/n and Arthur some awkward and apologetic looks as they enter the pub too. Shortly after the teenagers are all seen again exiting the pub, with Hill, George and James emerging from behind them. The girls all call out their good byes and wave as they head the opposite direction to the gang’s next destination.

“OK, this time the pub is quite a while away.” Hill explains to the group.

“Is it the Village Club? Because I can literally see it from here.” Arthur chortles, spitting a little.

“Oh fuck sake, you ruined my joke!” Hill yells halfheartedly, but loud enough to echo.

As they all walk, George murmurs to the camera: “Y’know one of these days it’ll really be a long walk but no one will believe him,” in a false serious tone.

Y/n, hearing this, jogs to join George and James. “Yeah, like the boy who cried walk.” She adds with a grin, and she hears Arthur laughing from behind her.

However when they get there, they soon realise that it’s a social club and was full of members. Although they’re all tipsy, they’re sober enough to decide to give it a miss as to not ruin the members’ fun.

“Well then, let’s have a look at what else we can do while we’re here.” Hill announces as he scrolls through his phone. “Aha! OK, so there’s an Aylesford Friars just 14 minutes away from here and it’s like a historical landmark.”

“14 minutes away or 14 seconds?” George mutters.

“It’s… thatta way!” Hill exclaims enthusiastically and directs the gang to walk back on themselves.

Arthur and George walk side by side while the camera is on them, y/n joins Hill at the front to help with directions.

“How’d things go with Arthur just now, outside the pub?” He asks her, keeping his voice low, then chuckles to himself at the name ‘The Bush’.

“Well, he seemed kind of nervous or something, but then those fans came over, so I never found out." She replies quietly, “Why?”

Worried he’ll reveal too much, he tries to think fast but no thoughts were coming, just ‘The Bush’ or the truth. Luckily for him (and Arthur) James joins them with the camera.

“Uhh, I need a woman’s touch with directions,” he explains, passing y/n his phone while making direct eye contact with the lens.

“The Chequers Inn is just here,” she calculates, gesturing to the pub beside them, “so if we head straight for about 9 minutes we’ll be there.”

“See? Aren’t those eyes amazing?” Hill asks the camera, like a quiz show host trying to flatter his guest.

Y/n suddenly feels a buzz in her own phone. She hands Hill’s back to him and checks her notifications. It’s a text from Arthur:

'Yes 👀✨'

She immediately looks over her shoulder and locks eyes with him, to see he’s already looking at her with a dorky smile. He nods at her to confirm it, she does have amazing eyes. She then watches as he types another message on his phone, a couple of seconds later it comes through:

'Beautiful little gems 😍'

Fighting a blush, she decides to respond, completely ignoring the camera while Hill talks nonsense to it. She sends:

'Mr Frederick, are you flirting with me?'

She turns her head again to watch him read it. He frowns as he concentrates, the words a little blurry to him from all the drinks, but a cheeky smile soon creeps up on his face. Quickly facing forwards again as to not look too needy, she hears George moan: “You’re not seriously texting each other are you?”

“No.” Arthur lies with a half smile, not convincing anyone. He’s not even trying.

George whispers, but y/n still overhears: “Oh please, who else do you smile like THAT for?”

She beams to herself, before her phone vibrating catches her attention. From Arthur:

“Let’s be real, when am I not flirting with you”

Wow, this man is filled with liquid confidence. Or regular confidence, it’s hard for her to tell.

The Friars Aylesford Priory is a beautiful place. Surrounded by gorgeous gardens and holding a cute tea room and gift shop inside, the group slowly potter around. James captures scenic shots and clips of the four, Hill making a mental note to pair the montage with one of his songs.

Arthur takes his time to read a lot of the information dotted around, having to lean in closer and furrow his brows as he struggles to read with is beer goggles. This however, makes for a perfect photo opportunity and y/n snaps one without his knowledge. She can send it to him later for his Instagram. She takes a few more pictures of the place in general.

While they’re in the outdoor gardens, she walks alongside Arthur in a peaceful silence. Unbeknownst to them, George takes a photo of the two of them walking side by side and immediately sends it to them both. Y/n is first to check her phone. “George took our photo,” she says, smiling up at Arthur. He decides to check his phone too, figuring it’s the same message.

“Aw yeah, that’s a lovely photo of us,” he replies with glee, his voice raising in pitch.

“We have a collection now, the first being our cuddle on Chris’s sofa.” Y/n jokes as she saves pic to her photos.

Arthur giggles, feeling his face burn. “That reminds me actually, did Chris show you his pictures from the pub golf?” He then asks. Y/n shakes her head.

They both stop walking as Arthur holds a finger up, signifying to hold on for a moment while he scrolls through his photo album. “They’re the rejected ones of the group pictures he made us take halfway through,” he explains, “look at this one then scroll to the next. Notice anything?” He hands y/n his phone and smiles from ear to ear as he watches her look.

In the group photos, Arthur was on the far left but at the front, whereas y/n is on the far right and stood further back. In the first photo, Arthur is looking over his shoulder and smiling across at y/n as her eyes are on the camera. When she swipes across, the next photo shows her looking sweetly at Arthur while he smiled at the camera. Arthur chuckles quietly as y/n bites her lips between her teeth.

“We can’t keep our eyes off each other, what do you suppose that means?” He asks genuinely, tilting his head. He reaches for his phone and takes a long inhaled breath as he brushes over her fingers with his.

Her heart skips a beat as his hand lingers on hers for a couple of seconds. “I… I don’t know,” she replies, now struggling to keep eye contact. “I can’t speak for you, but for me personally I-”

“Sorry to interrupt baes,” Hill interjects awkwardly, “but George is hangry again and I thought we could head to a bakery and chill for a bit before checking out the night life.” Arthur’s eyes were wide, but soften into a more polite look, trying to hide his disappointment. Y/n on the other hand is relieved because she isn’t sober enough to find the right words yet.

They all head to a cake shop nearby, Hill talking Arthur and James’s heads off while George keeps y/n company.

“I’m sorry if my greed ruined any hashtag y/nTV moments back there,” George whispers, “it was looking quite serious, but my stomach is literally rumbling.” He isn't kidding.

“It’s OK really, I suck at serious conversations,” she mumbles back. She goes on to tell him what happened.

“Arthur gives hints really well, but he sucks at taking them,” George explains with a shrug, “if you can’t find the words, maybe you can show him with actions?” This gives y/n food for thought. Her mind starts racing with what she can do rather than what she can say.

“Thank you Clarkey.” She quickly gives his forearm a grateful squeeze.

George is the only one who orders at the bakery, the others not feeling up to eating anything sweet at that moment. It becomes pretty clear how George can throw back so many drinks but remain relatively sober compared to the others. It’s a smart tactic.

While George munches away, Arthur plays a game of chess on his phone. Y/n watches over his shoulder, both of them in total silence. Meanwhile, Hill scrolls through his phone, looking for karaoke bars and nightclubs, feeling in the mood to sing and dance.

"There isn't much available in terms of night time fun..." Hill murmurs, "But we could catch an 8 minute train to Maidstone, which seems to have more to offer for us youngsters."

George wipes his lips, "Yeah I'm down for that mate."

"Same here," y/n chimes in with a smile. They all look to Arthur, but he's too engrossed in his match. Sensing the silence, he peers up to see everyone's eyes on him. He blinks for a couple of seconds before nodding too, although he's not entirely sure what he just signed up for.

They make their short walk to the station, the train arriving at the perfect time. Sitting in a six-seater area, Hill explains to the camera: "We are heading to Maidstone now, they seem to have more things for us to do there."

Arthur, who is sat next to Hill and opposite y/n, whips his phone back out to play more online chess. George and y/n try tallying up their drinks so far and talk about the best part of Aylesford.

"I liked Little Gem, it was really cozy and cute." Y/n stated with a smile. It's the only moment on the short train ride that makes Arthur look away from his phone. George crosses his arms with a smug look on his face.

"I enjoyed that place too," he adds, "yeah, I saw a really cute couple share an intimate moment there. It was nice to see." His grin grows wider. It's the kind of statement that's only innocent to those who aren't aware of the context, the clever prat. Arthur, back to staring at his phone at this point, widens his eyes for a brief moment. Until now, he didn't know that George saw him peck y/n's cheek.

"I liked scoping out the MILFs at the social club." Hill adds, smiling playfully.

"Oh my goodness..." Arthur mutters, shaking his head.

They arrive at Maidstone and head straight for the Wetherspoons nearby, being only a two minute walk away.

"Ah, another one of your famous hikes ey Arthur?" George quips to Hill as they all walk, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Yep, I'm thinking of renaming this series to 'long-walk roulette'." He replies, matching George's tone.

Meanwhile, James captures shots of the four walking together, with y/n and Arthur closer to the camera. "Did you win your match?" Y/n asks him.

"Yeah, although I think it'll be my last game of the day now we're drinking even more." He chuckles in response.

Reaching the pub, named The Society Rooms, Hill heads to the bar with James as the other three find a quieter spot outside. Hill orders a bunch of shots on a tray again, and carries them out to the group.

Donning a mischievous smirk, he declares: "Who's up for a game of 'say it or shot it'?" George pinches his nose bridge.

"We basically played this in Aylesford." He grumbles.

"No Georgie baby, that was 'never have I ever'." Hill scolds in a soft motherly tone. "You can go first then." Passing a shot to George.

"Fine by me, sugar tits." He mumbles back, holding the shot ready.

"George," Hill begins, "who, out of the women you've collaborated with, do you think is the most attractive?" George thinks for a second, before taking his shot.

"Y/n," Hill turns his attention to her and hands her a shot, "what's the name of the creator you collaborated with that you HATED?"

Sighing, she shakes her head. "I didn't hate them." She mumbles, but takes her shot anyway, her eyes getting heavy.

"Right then, Mr Television... Would you give up chess for sex?" Hill asks, the sudden randomness catching the others off guard.

"Oh my god!" Arthur yells in shock. He looks at his shot and pauses, "I do love chess, but yes. I would." His face begins to burn up again as he avoids looking at y/n.

"OK then Hill," George says, having a think of an annoying question to ask, "what's the name of the last girl whose DMs you have a'slid?"

"Fuck that." Hill immediately replies, downing his shot.

The game lasts quite a while, almost getting enough footage for an entire separate video, the sky now dark. George slides one of the last remaining shots to y/n, he stares at her through narrowed eyes, "Y/n."

"Yes George."

"Out of everyone here, who would you rather bang?"

Arthur's mouth falls open as Hill lets out an "Ooooooooo"

Y/n laughs and miraculously thinks fast. "Out of you three or everyone on the premises?"

George lets out a chuckle. "This table." He doubles down.

Y/n exhales slowly, looking around at the three men as if she doesn't already know. Arthur watches her intently, he swallows when she locks eyes on him. She teases them. "I think..." She starts, taking a long pause before downing the shot and smiling smugly. The boys all react disappointedly, just as she hoped.

Hill picks up the remaining shot and places it in front of Arthur. "Arthur, is there anyone you've collaborated with that you would love to make sweet love with"? He leans back in his chair, proud of his question.

Arthur folds his arms, wearing a casual smile. "Yes." He simply answers. The other three go wide eyed.

"Who?" Hill asks.

"I've already answered my question, it's someone else's turn now." Arthur states, moving the shot away, pleased with himself. The disappointment nearly smacks Hill across the face.

Hill, slightly annoyed he didn't get a funnier reaction our of Arthur, passes the shot to George. "Clarkey, how big is your willy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." he replies with a wink.

They head to a nearby cocktail bar name Social Chill Bar, to get 'white girl wasted' as Hill puts it, although it's safe to say they are all already quite drunk at this point. Within the 4 minute walk, George manages to walk into a lamppost, Arthur attempts to climb up a different lamppost, and y/n trips over her own feet. All of which is caught on camera.

Spotting the bar up ahead, George tells the others to look sharp, so they don't get turned away for being too drunk already. It works, although Arthur gets IDed again, another fantastic moment for the video. George immediately heads for the toilets, whereas Hill heads to the bar with James to buy a couple of pitchers. Y/n and Arthur pick a table that's tucked more away from the others.

"IDed again Arthur, now I've got the ick." Y/n jokes. Arthur rests his arm on the table, twisting his upper body to face her.

"Hmm," he taps her arm playfully, "that would mean you were into me beforehand." He quips before hiccupping. The pair start giggling.

"Touché," is all y/n can muster as the laughter dies down. Hill and James join the table.

"Where's Clarkey?" Hill asks, "Having his famous Clarkey shit?"

"Probably, he is in the toilets." Y/n replies, amused. However as if on cue, George emerges.

The group all giggle and make jokes as they share two pitches between them. Due to a loud hen party that also enter the bar, they don't spend too long or record too much.

"There's a karaoke bar like a minute walk away from here." Hill informs the table. They're all keen and work on their 'sober' look to ensure they get in that pub too.

Standing out side the Royal Albion pub, Hill decides to do his outro there as the bar is blaring copyrighted music. The four say good bye to the camera, followed by a good bye and thank you to James, who kindly declines the offer to join them and gets an Uber home.

They successfully enter the pub, which is quite lively as they four nab themselves a table near the karaoke area. Y/n and Hill go to the bar to order drinks, y/n ordering her go-to and a Southern Comfort for Arthur.

Meanwhile at the table, Arthur is sat next to George and can't contain it anymore. "I'm in love with y/n," he blurts out.

George laughs at the sudden statement. "Steady on Arthur, you've only met her once before."

"Yes," Arthur holds his finger up in a 'well actually' way, "but we've been texting nearly everyday since we first met, and even played games online together."

"Fair enough mate," George shrugs, happy for him, "but what are you gonna do about it?" Arthur curls his finger and dabs it against his mouth while he ponders.

While waiting for their drinks to be made, Hill turns to y/n with a snigger. "You ready to watch Arthur dance? It'll be make or break for you."

"I've seen plenty of clips online already, he sure can throw that ass back." Y/n replies as they both chuckle. The bartender hands them their drinks as they search for their table.

A drunk woman approaches the mic and sings a very original rendition of Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On'. The four sway at their table, while random couples slow dance. "I'm gonna put some songs and names down, who's up for singing?" Hill asks. Arthur is quick to put his hand up, whereas George and y/n shake their heads.

"I'd need to be at least thrice as pissed." Y/n explains apologetically, "But I'm up for dancing." The two Arthurs go up to the table where they write down their songs, Hill explains to the karaoke host that one of the songs he wants to sing is his own and he'll use the instrumental saved on his phone and hold it near the microphone. The host is intrigued and allows it.

When they rejoin the table, y/n asks what they're going to sing. "It's a surprise." Hill grins before Arthur can answer. They spend the next few minutes being entertained by the mixture of singers, some good, some bad. George takes a fancy to a cute girl who sang 'Love Story' by Taylor Swift and after some encouragement from the three, he approaches her when she's at the bar.

"Next up with have Arthur Hill with 'You're Beautiful'!" The host calls out. Y/n and Arthur cheer him as he approaches the microphone. As the instrumental plays, Arthur stands up, adjusts his shirt, then extends a hand to y/n. "Wanna dance?" He asks, his face donning a sweet smile.

Of course, y/n accepts the invitation. She takes his hand, the contact still feeling as electric as it does sober, as they join the other pairs that are already dancing. Arthur's not quite sure where to put his hands, so y/n gently takes them and places them at her waist, she then rests her hands on his broad shoulders. He chuckles shyly at her and begins swaying with her, copying what the other couples are doing.

'She smiled at me on the subway She was with another man'

Spending a lot of time looking at their feet so he doesn't tread on her, Arthur's cheeks begin to ache from smiling. As they slowly rotate, y/n locks eyes with Hill. He winks at her while still singing effortlessly.

'But I won't lose no sleep on that 'Cause I've got a plan'

Arthur looks back up to y/n as he quietly sings along, his glossy eyes peering lovingly into hers. "You're beautiful" the sweetness causing y/n to giggle as she starts singing along too.

'I saw your face in a crowded place And I don't know what to do'

Arthur not wanting to sing the next lyric, pulls y/n flush against him as they continue to slow dance. A little winded, she instinctively hugs her arms around his waist. He then readjusts so his arms are wrapped on top of hers and lowers his chin onto her shoulder.

As the song continues, Arthur clasps his hand around y/n's wrist and gently pulls her arm out so he can hold her hand, still holding each other with the other arms. They sway like this for the rest of the song, Arthur singing along to "You're beautiful" again into y/n's ear in a low, soothing voice. She can feel his heart thud against her as he draws small circles against the side of her hand with his thumb, and she's certain he can hear her heartbeat over the speakers. They dance like this for the rest of the song, both with their eyes closed contently.

George, while still sitting up at the bar with the swiftie, records Hill as he sings, then records a separate video of the lovebirds dancing together. He uploads the clip of Hill to his story, captioning it with 'never heard him sing this before', but sends the other video to y/n and Arthur privately. "They're in love, but they haven't confessed to each other yet." He whispers to the sweet girl, while casually leaning on the bar top. She likes this hopeless romantic side to him and gives him her Instagram handle.

When the song ends, y/n and Arthur pull away from each other, gazing into each others eyes as the rest of the pub guests applaud Hill. Arthur puts his hand to his chest and makes an exaggerated 'phew', his dorky way of joking with her about how nervous he was. Her left hand still clasped onto his right, she giggles at his wholesomeness.

The host congratulates Hill on his rendition of the song. "And next up we have... Arthur... TV, with 'She's So Lovely'!''

Arthur is snapped out of his daze, "Oh! It's my turn!" He shrieks, his voice far too loud now the song is over. He gives y/n's hand a squeeze and jogs to the 'stage' area.

He clasps the microphone and clears his throat. "Hi, this song is dedicated to someone amazing I met a few months-" he's cut off by the song starting, he shrugs and laughs. The girl George was talking to joins her friends to dance, so he jogs to y/n to dance with her, as does Hill. Arthur's eyes switch between looking shyly at the floor and peering over at y/n as she dances with two of his best friends. A smile evident in his voice every time he watches her laugh as they twirl her around and sing along. Y/n can't believe how good he sings, his voice soft as ever and hitting every key, except for the odd occasion where his voice breaks.

George steps away to record Arthur singing, to put this on his story too. No caption this time, just tagging Arthur and the pub. Hill grabs y/n's hands and swings their arms side to side. Before the song is even finished, George shows y/n the number of replies to his story with speculations about she's there and if Arthur's singing about her. In the video, it's obvious he had his eyes on someone, except for when he looked at George's phone, but y/n was out of view the whole time.

When the song is over the pub give him a round of applause, with y/n, George, and Hill cheering him extra loud. Arthur takes an awkward little bow and rejoins his friends. "That was amazing!" Y/n screams, the clapping dying down.

"I'm glad you enjoyed, really." He gently pats her on the back, unable to draw his eyes away from her. Another person begins singing another Taylor Swift song, so George quickly peers around for his 'pub girl'. He spots her running back to the dance floor with her friends and she waves him over. He's gone in a flash. "Ohh I span too much," Hill groans as he sits back down at their table, his face turning pale.

"Do you want some water Hilly?" Y/n asks him caringly. He exhales out a risky burp and nods his head.

"I'll grab it, you keep an eye on him. D'you want another drink?" Arthur kindly offers. Y/n wobbles a little as she takes a seat next to Hill and rests her hand on his shoulder.

"I think I've had enough for tonight, maybe a water for me too please?" Y/n replies, patting her stomach with her free hand.

"Good point, three waters it is then." Arthur grins as he weaves around the dancers to get to the bar.

Y/n checks her phone to see the notification from George. She opens the video of her and Arthur slow dancing. As his face pivoted into view, her heart melts at how happy he looked. His head tilted and rested against hers, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly upturned at the corners. She then watches how safe and secure she looked as her face came in view. "He's a really good guy," Hill slurs, peering over at her screen, "if you don't date him, I will." Y/n laughs as she hearts George's message.

"Oh Arthur," Y/n replies, sighing.

"Seriously though, girls have screwed him over in the past. And these are girls he only liked a little bit." He hiccups then clears his throat, taking y/n's hand and gently swinging it around. "With you, he's just... different. In a good way."

"I really like him." Y/n mumbles, chuckling as she watches Hill continue to pull her hand around. "But I need to hear it from him, and soberly preferably. I mean, I might just seem good through the beer goggles." She sniggers.

Hill shakes his head. "No, no, no. He talks about you all the fucking time y/n, drink or no drink. Trust me, he really likes you."

They spot Arthur awkwardly juggling three glasses of water towards their table. "Speaking of the devil!" Hill croaks, immediately downing half the glass.

"Oh no, what were you guys saying?" Arthur asks, his voice riddled with a nervous laugh as his eyes dart between the two of them. Y/n gestures as if it was nothing, but Hill has other ideas.

"Just about how much you like y/n." He bluntly states with a shrug. Arthur and y/n's eyes go wide.

"W-what? What d'you mean?" Arthur stutters, spraying a little water.

"Yeah," Hill smirks, shrugging again, "you know, you think she's a great content creator. That's all." He then gulps down the rest of this water and exhales loudly. "Thanks guys, I feel much better." Sliding his glass to the far end of the table, he then gets up and excuses himself.

“That was weird,” Arthur says, raising an eyebrow. He takes a seat next to y/n as another singer takes the stage. “How come you want to stop drinking? Are you not having fun anymore?”

“Actually it’s the opposite,” y/n giggles, “I don’t want to forget how fun today’s been and if I drink any more, I’ll probably black out.”

“That’s fair enough.” Arthur relaxes and a smile grows back on his face.

George returns to the table. “Hey you two, on the water already?”

“Yep, I was just telling Arthur that I’m having too much fun and don’t want to forget the day.” Y/n replies.

“Oh yeah, I remember you told me once, that alcohol doesn’t wipe your memory but stops you creating them, right?” George queries.

Y/n nods, “that’s right.”

“You are aware that most of today was caught on camera though.” George replies, to which y/n starts laughing into her hand.

George peers to the empty seat next to y/n. “Where’s Hill?”

“The other Arthur has gone to the toilet I think.” Y/n replies.

“Shit. I better make sure he hasn’t passed out or something, I think it’ll be his turn to sing again soon.” George hurries to the toilets. Arthur shifts his chair closer to y/n.

“So, if he’s the ‘other Arthur’, does that make me ‘Arthur number one’?” He asks, wearing a cheeky smile as he drums her arm with his fingers.

“Of course, you’re always number one.” Y/n wholeheartedly replies. Arthur’s eyebrows arch upwards as he lets out a quiet ‘aww’. He squeezes her hand.

“I know I’ve said this already but I’m so glad you came today. I was worried all the comments and posts about us would put you off, honestly.” Arthur explains, his words still slightly slurring.

“Oh no, not at all! I get shipped with everyone.” Y/n awkwardly chuckles in response. “Although not as much as with you.”

“Indeed.” Arthur slowly nods, his heavy eyes focusing on her lips. “It’s because you’re so good to everyone.”

George rejoins the pair. “The karaoke host is kindly letting Arthur plug his phone into their laptop, so his backing track will play on the speakers properly.” He explains.

“That’s really generous!” Arthur replies enthusiastically.

George nods as he takes his seat. “That’s where he’s been, not dead on the bathroom floor like I thought.”

The host reintroduces Hill to the stage, explaining that he’ll be singing his own song, which greatly interests the crowd. “I’m gonna find my sweet swiftie.” George shouts as he darts off.

“Shall we dance again?” Arthur asks y/n, standing to his feet and offering his arm.

She stands too, looping her arm with his. “I thought you’d never ask!” She yells in a jokey tone. Arthur leads her to a secluded corner by one of the speakers, hoping to have a little privacy.

‘I started learning piano Just so I could write songs about you’

They arrange themselves into another slow dance position. Arthur’s left hand on her waist and with the other, gently holding her left hand up and out to their side, y/n rests her free hand on his shoulder again. They sway in total bliss to Hill’s beautiful love song. Arthur mouths the words to y/n, gazing deeply into her eyes with a soft look. She feels a warm swirly feeling in her chest, which both surprises her and soothes her at the same time.

Never would y/n have ever pictured her adult self bar hopping and getting drunk with friends, only to end the night with slow dancing, especially with someone like Arthur. But she’s never met anyone like him before, and neither has he with her.

Y/n spots George with the cute girl he’s been chatting to throughout the night, they look really sweet together as he peers down at her with rosy cheeks, them in a similar dance position. Y/n gestures towards them with her head, and Arthur looks over his shoulder. The pair slow to a halt and watch for a while, although they still have an arm around each other.

“He looks so smitten and happy!” Y/n calls out over the music, her eyes still locked on them proudly. Arthur turns his head to look down at his dance partner.

“Yeah.” He whispers with a soft smile, although y/n can’t hear him over the speakers. He hesitates before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips buried in her hair. She beams, her pulse quickening.

They resume their dancing as the second chorus comes on.

‘I don’t want you, I crave you I fucking need you’

Arthur stares at y/n through hooded eyelids, the ‘need you’ part really hitting home for him. Y/n returns his gaze, noticing a slight change in his facial expression, but isn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

‘Your face is at the forefront Your name grips onto my tongue’

His eyes a little glossy, he looks deeply into both her eyes, darting between the two. His face drops slightly, donning a nervous expression as the next words are sung:

‘But I’m too scared to ask If I’m buried at the back’

Sensing his hesitation, y/n lurches up and plants quick a kiss to Arthur’s lips. He reciprocates, and when she stands flat again, he stares at her for a couple of seconds, a half smile fading onto his face. It felt exactly how he dreamt it would.

‘I don’t want you, I crave you'

He lets go of her briefly only to cup her cheeks as he crashes his lips down into hers.

'I fucking need you’

Their lips slowly but passionately work in rhythm as y/n wraps her arms around his torso. One of his hands slides up to grip the hair at the back of her head, the other wraps around her shoulders, holding her tighter. He turns his head slightly so he can pull her even closer as he deepens this kiss, his nose digs into her cheek and his stubble tickles her skin, but she welcomes the feelings. She tastes his Southern Comfort and he tastes her drink, creating a cocktail of their own. The flashing colourful lights of the pub reflect the fireworks in her head.

The song finishes, as does their kiss. They pull away from each other, breathless, still in each others embrace. There’s a shared look of adoration in each others eyes, mixed with something else. Want. Arthur’s eyes appear darker than usual, peering down as his mouth is still slightly open. Y/n looks up at him through her eyelashes.

The applause from the other pub folk snaps them back to reality, a soft shy smile creeping on Arthur’s lips as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind y/n’s ear. Y/n can’t help but giggle, goosebumps lining her skin.

They make their way back to the small crowd. George’s babe says good bye to him as she leaves with her friends, not before she gestures at her phone to him.

Once they’re gone, George turns back to y/n and Arthur as Hill rejoins them.

“Finally!” George bellows, a grin on his face.

“Aw George, did you get a kiss?” Y/n asks sweetly, heart still racing as Arthur puts an arm around her waist.

“No,” George smirks, “but I know who did.” He holds his phone up to show a photo of y/n and Arthur. The picture looks so romantic, like it was from a romcom.

“Oh my!” Hill shrieks, his eyes wide but accompanied with a smirk.

Y/n and Arthur look at him with a mix of surprise and embarrassment, and a small hint of pride.

“Don’t worry guys, I took it. I spotted you making out when my girl went to grab her drink.” He says as he forwards the picture to them both. “Just remember to give me photo cred when you hard launch to the world.”

Arthur and y/n look to each other and share a laugh, the tension seeping out.

“Proud of you mate,” Hill says as he slaps Arthur’s back. “Wish you’d done it during recording so my video could go viral, but whatever.’

The group decide to head back to the station soon after, with Hill’s queasiness creeping back up on him. The train rides are pretty quiet, most of creators exhausted from the day, except Arthur. He talks the majority of the time, with y/n listening intently and nodding, all the while scanning through the photos she’d taken throughout the day. George is scrolling through his story replies, Hill has fallen asleep with his head gently rattling against the window.

Sitting beside her, Arthur leans across. “When did you take that?” He asks, pointing at a photo of y/n from outside the Aylesford Friars.

“George took that, I think while you were learning Aylesford trivia.” She giggles in response.

“It’s beautiful.” Arthur replies with a smile. He then watches her scroll through the rest of the day’s photos and videos, landing on the pic she’d saved of their sweet kiss.

“Wow.” He mutters, leaning even closer to her. “That was amazing.” He then whispers, almost seductively.

“Get a room.” Hill groans, his eyes fluttering open.

“Yeah, or at least a different carriage.” George mumbles.

Arthur huffs and sits up straight, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“Saw you dancing away with your pub girl.” He says to George.

“Yeah, tell us all about her.” Y/n chimes in, leaning forward on the small plastic table and resting her chin on her hands. Hill grumbles and seemingly dozes off again, as George tells what sounds like the beginning of a modern love story.

When they arrive back home, George and Hill say their good byes to the pair, after Arthur kindly offers y/n a walk back to hers.

Y/n, seemingly a little more sobered up, feels the cold of the British night hit her fast. She tried to hide it, but Arthur can tell. “Oh, here.” Before she even looks at him, his hoodie is off and he hands it to her.

“What? Won’t you be cold?” She asks bashfully.

“Absolutely not,” Arthur kindly replies, looking at the floor as they walk, “I have enough alcohol in my system to keep me warm.”

Y/n stops for a moment while she slips it over her head, that familiar aftershave once again embracing her senses. “And besides, I’m still a little heated from earlier.” He chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows as they continue.

She swats at his arm playfully as she laughs. “I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.” She states.

“What’s not to enjoy?” He looks at her, “the hottest girl in the world giving you the best kiss in the world?” The evening just gets better and better.

“You’re too kind. It was really good though.” She hugs herself a little tighter, butterflies fill her stomach as she remember this kiss vividly.

They continue walking in a comfortable silence, Arthur reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “We’re quite close to my place actually,” he starts, his voice low and pensive, “if you’d like to come over?”

Y/n hums as she thinks about it. “I don’t see why not, I kept my schedule clear over the next few days in case I needed to crash at someone’s. Or recover.”

“My… my roommates are out of town too, so it would be just us.” He shyly adds, peering down at her with darkened eyes. Interesting.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART FOUR]

A/n: Thank you for the support and for reading again hehe, I'm sorry this took so long but I've been so swamped with work recently If you're from Aylesford or Maidstone, I apologise in advance if I butchered your town... part 4? 👀 ♥ Tag list: @ooostarwarsfandom501st @themdera @rougetv @essieswurld - Gabby xo

[heliosunny]

Hello love your writing style and ideas !!

can you write au siren reader x Phainon but not the kind that sings with sweet deception—hers is a quiet, haunting presence, a being who does not need to lure with honeyed songs. . She does not chase her prey; she waits, watches, lets the prey come to her and whether by choice or by fate, all who cross her path will find themselves drawn into the abyss.

I wrote the yandere one is Phainon *cough if I'm mistaken, please forgive me.

Yandere!Phainon x Siren!Reader

Phainon had spent his life hunting monsters.

The sea was full of them—things with too many teeth, too many eyes, lurking beneath the waves where no man dared tread. He had slain creatures the size of ships, things whispered about in fearful legends. The bounty was good, the thrill intoxicating.

But you were something else entirely.

You looked at him from the water’s edge. A haunting silhouette against the crashing waves.

He had been told sirens lured men with songs, full of honeyed lies, but you did not sing. You did not need to. Something deeper, something older called to him. The tide lapped at his boots, coaxing, beckoning.

He should have turned back.

Instead, he returned. Again and again. Until the sea smelled less like salt and more like you, until the nights on his ship felt hollow without your gaze watching.

The first time, it was a corpse.

Phainon stood at the water’s edge, the scent of blood thick in the air. The body—a man, throat slit clean, slumped from his grasp and hit the waves with a hollow splash.

“I thought of you” he murmured, “While I was cutting him open. I wondered if you’d like it fresh.”

The second time, the offering was still alive.

The man kicked, thrashed, screamed. Phainon held him by the hair, forcing him to kneel in the shallow water. The fear in his victim’s eyes was nothing compared to the madness in Phainon’s own.

“She’s watching” he whispered to the struggling man, “You should feel honored.”

Then he looked up, as if seeking approval. His hands trembled—not with hesitation, but with exhilaration. “Do you like it better this way? When they’re still warm?”

Phainon smiled. “I’ll bring more.”

---

Phainon sat on the shore, a strange grin playing at his lips. The moonlight turned his silver hair ghostly, his hands moving deftly over the instrument. He did not look surprised to see you—no, if anything, he looked satisfied.

“You’re here” he mused, fingers never faltering.

The melody shifted, softer now, coaxing. It did not pull like a siren’s song, but it lingered in the air, refusing to be ignored.

“Can you understand me?” His voice was almost teasing, “Or have I been speaking to the waves all this time?”

You replied him with nothing but silence.

Phainon chuckled, but there was no humor in it. His hands stilled on the strings. “You know,” he said, “I’m an expert.”

“If you don’t come to me, I’ll find a way to get you myself.”

The tide licked at the shore, rising as if in warning. Phainon's fingers pressed idly against the strings of his instrument, though the song had long since faded.

“I was starting to think you were nothing but a shadow in the water.”

You did not respond.

The wind howled between you both, salty mist clinging to your hair.

“You believe you can take me?” You asked at last.

Phainon laughed. It was not the laugh of a man deterred, but of a man entertained. “Oh, dear siren,” he murmured, standing slowly, his boots sinking into the wet sand. “You mistake me.”

“I don’t need to take you.” His fingers brushed over the hilt of the blade at his hip, not as a threat, but as a promise. “I just need to make sure you never leave me.”

----

Humans had no strength in the water. You knew this. Had seen them flail and drown, helpless against the current. Humans were fragile creatures swayed by fear, by curiosity, by the gentle pull of the tide. You did not need to sing, nor whisper sweet deceptions. You only needed to wait.

And they came.

The first was a sailor. He did not see you at first—only the glint of something pale beneath the waves, something shifting in the current. He stepped closer.

By the time he realized his mistake, the ocean had already swallowed him whole.

The second was younger, trembling as he peered over the railing of his ship, searching for whatever force had dragged his crewmate down. He never saw the hands that pulled him under.

The third did not even scream.

One by one, you took them, the water welcoming their bodies, their struggles fading into the deep. The abyss always called, and they, like all before them, answered.

splash

Phainon.

You turned, expecting him on the shore, but no—he had come from above, from a ship lurking just beyond the reach of the waves.

And before you could move, something cold snapped around your wrist.

Bracelet?

Phainon grinned, hair fanning in the water like silver thread, eyes burning with something near-manic. “Got you.”

Phainon had no place in the water.

He was human— no matter how steady his hands, no matter how many monsters he had slain. The ocean did not care. It did not recognize him.

And it swallowed him whole.

The weight of his own foolishness dragging him down. He had leapt in willingly, with no plan, no survival in mind.

Typical.

You swept him under without hesitation.

The current embraced him instantly, pulling him deeper, his body twisting in the tide. His fingers brushed against you, grasping for something, anything. But you had already let go.

Bubbles burst from his lips, frantic, uneven. His arms thrashed, desperate to break the water’s grip. It was pathetic.

You turned away.

And yet—

Something in you twisted.

A pull urging you to turn back.

You did not want to.

But you did.

You moved before you could think.

Your arms wrapped around him, dragging him up, breaking through the surface with force. His head lolled against your shoulder, his breath nonexistent. The waves carried you both, faster than they should have, as if the sea itself was trying to rid itself of him.

You pulled him onto the sand, his body cold, heavy. For a moment, you hovered, staring at the rise and fall of his chest—shallow, struggling, but alive.

You should not have done this.

With one last glance, you turned and slipped back into the depths, vanishing into the tide before he could wake.

----

The thing on your wrist pulsed, faint but constant, sinking into your skin like rot. A weight that did not belong, that was not of the sea. And worse—

It would not come off.

You clawed at it, pried at the lock, but the metal held fast, unyielding. The more you struggled, the more it burned, a creeping heat that should not exist in the abyss.

It was wrong. It did not belong here.

Phainon.

Even now, his presence lingered, his touch wrapped around you in this cursed thing he had left behind. He was not here, but somehow, he had still reached you.

And for the first time in your existence, the ocean did not feel safe.

---

The cave was silent, save for the steady drip of water against stone.

You sat near the entrance, where the tide reached just enough to lap at your legs. The bracelet on your wrist gleamed dully in the dim light, unyielding no matter how many times you tried to pry it off.

Your nails scraped against it, frustration curling deep in your chest.

Phainon had done this.

You did not know how, did not know why, but the truth was undeniable.

You should not have saved him.

Fine.

If you could not remove it yourself, you would find the one who had placed it.

And this time, you would not hesitate.

---

You had tracked him to this place. A hidden inlet carved into the cliffside, shielded from the open sea, the entrance barely visible against the jagged rock. It was a place humans rarely came, yet his scent lingered here, fresh, undeniable.

He had been waiting.

You emerged from the water slowly, deliberately, stepping onto the slick stone with movements far too steady for something that should not belong on land. Your tail had given way to legs, but the shift felt sluggish, unnatural. The bracelet burned against your wrist as if resisting the transformation, as if tethering you to something unseen.

You did not call for him. You did not need to.

You felt his presence before you saw him.

“You came.”

Phainon stepped forward, into the dim light filtering through the cave’s mouth. His clothes were damp, his silver hair still tousled from the ocean air.

“I knew you would.”

Your gaze drifted to his hands, resting casually at his sides.

Slowly, you lifted your wrist, the thing glinting dully in the weak light.

“What did you do?”

“Ah. You noticed.”

“Remove it.”

“I could,” he admitted, his voice light, conversational. “But why would I?”

“You have no power here, human.”

Phainon hummed, stepping closer, unbothered by the threat laced in your tone. “Don’t I?”

You stiffened. A slow, creeping heat crawled up your arm, spreading through your veins, dragging at something within you.

Phainon watched you carefully, eyes gleaming with that same maddening certainty.

“You feel it, don’t you? Now you’re bound.” His fingers twitched at his sides. “To me.”

“You think this will keep you safe?”

Phainon exhaled a laugh “Safe?” He leaned in just slightly, as if daring you to move. “Who said anything about safe?”

“I can take you with me,” he said, voice smooth, deliberate. “But I didn’t.”

The accessory on your wrist pulsed, a silent reminder of his touch, his claim.

“I gave you your freedom.” He tilted his head, studying your expression, his eyes gleaming like a predator waiting for its prey to realize it had already been caught. “And that’s generous of me.”

His smile sharpened, his chest rising and falling just slightly faster, as if he had been waiting for this—waiting for you to acknowledge him, to see him, to let him stand in your presence.

“Ah…” His voice came quieter, more breath than sound, as if he had to steady himself. “You’re—”

He cut himself off, exhaling a soft, shaking laugh.

Then, without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.

Not in surrender.

In devotion.

You stared at him.

Phainon—kneeling, breathing uneven, staring up at you as if he had finally reached the thing he had been chasing all this time.

This was a human. A creature of land, of fleeting years, of brittle bones and fragile flesh.

You did not take things like this.

You consumed, you drowned, you let them sink into the abyss and never resurface. You did not let them linger, did not let them follow you, did not let them worship you like this.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You are mistaken.”

“Am I?”

“You think you have done something that matters.” You lifted your wrist. “You think this changes what you are.”

His grin widened.

“Oh, I know what I am.” He tilted his head, silver hair falling over his forehead, breath still slightly uneven as he watched you, enthralled. “The real question is—do you know what you are now?”

You did not answer.

Because you did not need to.

You were what you had always been. A creature of the abyss. A hunter that did not chase, a being that did not need to lure, because all things that crossed your path fell eventually.

Phainon was no different.

And yet—he was still here.

Still breathing.

Still kneeling before you.

You lowered your wrist slowly. “You will get nothing from me.”

Phainon’s grin did not falter. “I already have.”

You moved before he could react.

Sharp teeth sank into his flesh, the taste of salt and blood blooming across your tongue. His breath hitched, but there was no pain—no fear—only that same maddening exhilaration.

You ripped yourself away, your eyes locking with his for the briefest moment—one final warning, one final denial—before the sea surged around you.

And then you were gone.

The cold water swallowed you whole, the ocean embracing you once more. You did not look back.

But Phainon—

He remained kneeling, staring at the crimson dripping from the fresh wound on his hand.

Slowly, he exhaled, his fingers flexing as if memorizing the sting.

Then he smiled.

A deep, satisfied grin, as if the pain only proved something he had already known.

You had left your mark on him.

And that, to him, was enough.

----

The land felt unnatural beneath your feet.

It was not the first time you had taken this form, but it had never felt like this before—heavy, constricting, a shape that did not suit you.

Still, you moved without hesitation.

Phainon’s dwelling was easy to find. He had left traces of himself everywhere—the scent of salt and steel, the remnants of blood staining the docks, the unmistakable pull of the thing on your wrist that told you he was close.

He had made no effort to hide.

You entered with ease, silent as the tide, your presence slipping through the space like a current unseen. He would not know you like this. He could not. To him, you were just another figure in the world of men, another stranger walking paths that were never meant for you.

“You should’ve knocked.”

His voice cut through the still air.

Phainon stood just beyond the dim candlelight, leaning against the wooden frame of the room, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. He looked... amused.

“Well?” His eyes glinted, sharp and knowing. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?”

Your gaze flickered past him, tracing the walls of the dimly lit room.

They were covered in remnants of things that did not belong on land.

Bones, scales, preserved limbs from creatures that had once moved through the depths with silent grace. And among them—stuffed figures, carefully stitched, resembling the very things he had hunted. Trophies. Proof of conquest.

A silent declaration of power.

This was the world he belonged to.

You turned your attention back to him. “I apologize,” you said, your voice smooth, carefully measured. “I did not know this was your home.”

Phainon’s gaze didn’t waver. He was studying you now. Not like when he looked at you in the water. Not like when he had dropped to his knees, breathing uneven, his voice trembling with something unhinged and worshipful.

This was different.

Because he did not recognize you.

You offered the slightest tilt of your head. “My name is—” you paused, giving him a name that was not your own, one that fit the form you had taken.

Phainon didn’t react immediately. He simply held your gaze, as if assessing whether you were worth acknowledging at all.

“Hm.” He pushed off the wooden frame, stepping fully into the dim light. “And what do you want?”

To hunt the monster in front of you. Him.

----

You moved carefully, your steps barely making a sound against the worn floor. Phainon had already gone to sleep—or so you had assumed. His breathing had evened out behind closed doors, his presence heavy but unmoving.

It gave you time.

Your fingers ghosted over surfaces as you searched, slipping between shadows, eyes scanning the strange collection that surrounded you.

The house was decorated with death.

Everywhere you looked, pieces of creatures long lost to the sea were displayed like trophies—monsters pinned to walls, their hollow eyes frozen in expressions they had never worn in life. A cruel mimicry of their existence, preserved only to serve as proof of their defeat.

And among them—

Some were familiar.

The curve of a fin, the shape of a claw, remnants of things that once swam in the abyss where you ruled.

You turned your attention back to your search. You needed something—anything—to break the annoying thing on your wrist.

Eventually, your steps led you into a smaller chamber. The air was damp, cooler than the rest of the house.

A bathroom.

Your eyes flickered toward the tub—and stilled.

The water was filled to the brim.

Strange. Phainon had gone to sleep. Humans did not need water in such quantities.

The liquid was still, reflecting the dim glow of the lantern outside the doorway. But as you stepped closer, a ripple passed through its surface—slow, unnatural, like something unseen had disturbed it from below.

You ignored the faint unease creeping into your chest, instead stepping toward the sink. If nothing else, you would wash your hands, rid yourself of the lingering sensation of this place before continuing your search.

The water ran cool over your skin, grounding you. You let out a slow breath, muscles relaxing just slightly—

Then your gaze drifted back to the tub.

The water’s color was wrong. Dark, shifting. A shade that did not belong in a home on land, thick with something more than just salt. It almost seemed to breathe, pulsing in slow waves against the porcelain edges.

Your brows furrowed.

Push

A force slammed into your back before you could react, knocking you off balance. Your hands caught the edge of the tub for the briefest second before another shove drove you forward—

And then you were submerged.

The second the water swallowed you, your body betrayed you. Pain lanced through your legs, twisting through your bones like an unseen force was dragging you back to what you were meant to be. The shift came violently, your skin splitting, merging, reshaping.

The familiar weight of your tail returned, but—

Your upper body remained unchanged, still locked in its human form, even as the rest of you was forced back into what you truly were. Panic surged, but before you could push yourself free, fingers curled over the edge of the tub.

Phainon. Again.

His grip was steady, his knuckles white against the porcelain as he leaned over you, looking down with something unreadable in his gaze.

This had been planned.

“Caught you.”

"You know," he murmured, flexing the mark of his injured hand, the blood welling where your teeth had sunk deep, "I almost didn’t recognize you."

He tilted his head, gaze dragging over your face, your body��your still-human form above the water, the betraying flicker of your tail below.

"But you should’ve been more careful."

A breath of laughter escaped him, "The way you move. The way you watch." His eyes gleamed, sharp with something close to amusement. "You were always so quiet."

He leaned down, one hand braced against the porcelain, keeping you caged.

"But no human has ever looked at me the way you do."

"No human hesitates before speaking like you do."

"And no human would ever think they could hide from me."

His free hand lifted, trailing over the water’s surface, fingertips barely grazing the liquid that had forced your transformation.

"Now that you’re here…" He hummed, his expression unreadable, but his next words were clear, "I think I’ll keep you."

Water surged as you twisted violently, your tail thrashing against the porcelain. With a sharp flick, you sent a wave straight into Phainon’s face, forcing him to pull back, the liquid splattering against his clothes, his skin.

You didn’t waste a second.

Hands gripping the sides of the tub, you tried to pull yourself free, the weight of the water slowing you down but not stopping you. Your muscles tensed, every instinct screaming to get away, to get out, but a strong hand clamped onto your shoulder.

Before you could react, Phainon shoved you back down.

The force sent you crashing beneath the surface, the water swallowing you whole. It dragged at your skin, the strange substance wrapping around you like a second set of hands, pulling, twisting—

And then the last remnants of your human form shattered.

Your body shifted entirely, the final traces of your disguise ripped away as your tail fully emerged, scales gleaming dark beneath the unnatural light.

You gasped sharply as you resurfaced, claws scraping against the slick porcelain, but before you could lash out, something warm pressed against your shoulder.

Teeth.

A sharp sting bloomed as Phainon’s mouth closed over your skin.

A growl rumbled in your throat, low and threatening, but he didn’t pull away. His fingers dug into your arm, holding you in place, his breath warm against your damp skin.

The pressure of his teeth lingered even as he finally released you.

Then he lifted his gaze to meet yours, and the look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine.

"That," he said, "was for trying to run."

Before you could pull away, his grip on your wrist tightened.

Then, without hesitation, he sank his teeth into your hand.

A sharp sting shot up your arm.

"Let go."

You did what you must, you commanded him to.

For a moment, his fingers slackened, his pupils dilating slightly. His body swayed just the faintest bit forward, caught on the hook of your call, just as countless others had before.

But then—

His breath steadied.

A slow, knowing smirk spread across his lips.

And from beneath his soaked shirt, he pulled something into view.

A dark, worn amulet hung from a chain, the metal glinting in the dim light, etched with carvings you could not immediately decipher.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" His voice was calm, almost amused, his grip tightening once more.

"Why do you think I can hunt other ones?"

Your eyes snapped to the amulet, realization settling in.

That was why he had been able to hunt. Why your kind had never been able to pull him into the depths as easily as the others.

Your attempt to escape was swift—your body surged forward, water splashing violently as you twisted, tail coiling with the force needed to propel yourself away.

But Phainon was faster.

A hand shot out, seizing your wrist with a strength that sent a jolt through your bones. Before you could react, before you could tear yourself free, a sharp yank sent you crashing back into the water.

The tub overflowed, liquid spilling onto the floor, but neither of you cared.

You thrashed, snarling, claws raking against his arm. But Phainon only gritted his teeth, his grip ironclad as he pressed down, forcing you deeper into the water.

The strange substance swirled around you, clinging, binding, warping.

Your muscles locked. A cold sensation seeped into your skin, into your veins—an unnatural weight, something that latched onto the very essence of what you were. Your vision blurred for a moment.

You tried to lurch forward, but your body barely responded.

And Phainon—Phainon only watched.

"You feel it, don’t you?"

You bared your teeth, refusing to acknowledge it. Refusing to let him see the way your chest tightened, the way your limbs felt heavier.

But he already knew.

His hand lifted, fingers brushing the bracelet still bound to your wrist.

"It’s not just some ordinary restraint," he continued, tilting his head. "You thought I was careless, didn’t you? That I just let you slip away before?"

He leaned in, "I was never letting you go."

You hissed, tail lashing, but the motion was sluggish, weaker than before.

"Fight all you want," he mused, fingers pressing lightly against your jaw, tilting your face toward him. "It won’t change anything."

"I told you, didn’t I? If you wouldn’t come to me…"

His fingers trailed down your throat, resting lightly against your collarbone.

"I’d find a way to take you myself."

You had underestimated him.

And now, you were his.

[cuddlyeren]

Meet My Girlfriend!

(Not clickbait)

—————————————————————

Hamzah leaned back in his chair, staring at the blank YouTube title box. His cursor blinked impatiently.

He sighed, running a hand through his curly hair. “Alright,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s rip the bandage off.”

In bold letters, he typed: “Meet My Girlfriend (not clickbait).”

A soft laugh escaped him, the irony of it all hitting him at once. For years, he had carefully cultivated a persona of the charming, funny, and very much single guy online. Fans loved him for it shipping him with their own imaginations, leaving cheeky comments like, “Hamzah, you’re my future husband, you just don’t know it yet!” or “Stay single forever!”

But now… things were about to change.

“Babe, are you sure you’re ready for this?” Y/N’s voice floated from the doorway.

Hamzah turned to see her leaning against the frame, dressed in one of his oversized hoodies. She looked nervous, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. It wasn’t like her to be unsure—one of the many things he loved about her was her confidence.

“Yes” he said, standing up and walking over to her. “I mean, I don’t want to hide you anymore. I’m tired of pretending like you don’t exist in my life when you’re the best part of it.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “That’s a cheesy line.”

“Cheesy, but true,” he said, placing a hand on her cheek. “Listen, I know my fans are intense… Some of them might not take it well, but I want them to know the real me. And the real me is crazy about you.”

Her smile softened, but her eyes still carried doubt. “What if they hate me?”

“They won’t,” Hamzah said firmly. “And even if some do, they’ll get over it. I’m not going to let a few people’s opinions stop me from showing you off.”

Y/N exhaled, her resolve solidifying. “Okay. Let’s do it. But if this ruins your career, you’re not allowed to blame me.”

Hamzah grinned. “Deal.”

———

The next day, the internet buzzed with speculation.

Hamzah had tweeted:

Big news dropping tomorrow. 👀

In minutes, his fans were in a frenzy:

• “HE’S RELEASING MERCH, I KNOW IT!”

• “Collab with friends ? Please say it’s chase and Claire !”

• “WHAT IF IT’S A GIRLFRIEND??? 😱”

By the time the video premiered, his audience was practically vibrating with anticipation.

The screen lit up with Hamzah sitting in his usual filming spot, a goofy grin on his face. “Alright, guys, I know you’re all dying to know what the big news is, so I won’t drag it out too long. But first…” He leaned closer to the camera, lowering his voice dramatically. “How are you doing? You good? Hydrated? Alright, cool.”

He straightened up, his expression softening. “So, here’s the thing. You guys have been with me through everything—my first awkward videos, my cringe TikTok dances, my horrible attempts at cooking. You’re like family to me. And because of that, I think it’s time I introduce you to someone really special.”

The comments exploded immediately:

• “OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING.”

• “WAIT, WHAT?!?”

• “He’s trolling us… right??”

Hamzah chuckled, glancing off-camera. “Y/N, you ready?” He extends his hand signaling to y/n that she could come now

A moment later, Y/N walked into the frame, smiling nervously. She waved. “Hi, everyone!”

The comments came faster than either of them could read:

• “SHE’S SO PRETTY OMG.”

• “Wait, who is this???”

• “Not my parasocial relationship crumbling rn.”

“This is Y/N,” Hamzah said, his voice full of warmth. “My girlfriend. And before you freak out—yes, I’ve been keeping this a secret for a while. Not because I didn’t want you to know, but because I wanted to protect her from… well, you know how some of y’all can be.”

Y/N laughed nervously, and Hamzah squeezed her hand.

The video continued with them sharing how they met and answering some lighthearted questions. But as the comments poured in, it became clear that not everyone was thrilled.

Later that night, as Hamzah scrolled through Twitter, he sighed. “Well, the fans are… divided.”

Y/N peered over his shoulder. Among the supportive messages were tweets like:

• “Heartbroken. Never trusting men again.”

• “Unsubscribed. You ruined my fantasy, Hamzah.”

But then there were others:

• “Y/N seems sweet. I’m happy for you, Hamzah!”

• “As long as you keep posting funny videos, I don’t care who you date.”

He looked at Y/N, who was reading the tweets with an unreadable expression. “Hey,” he said softly, turning her face toward him. “Are you okay?”

She hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. It’s a lot, but I’ll survive. As long as you’re by my side.”

Hamzah smiled, pulling her into a hug. “Always.”

—-

Inspired by Mandy’s recent YT Video and everyone saying that he has a gf😭 hope yall liked my first fic…

[latanyalove]

Loves On Fire

Summary: Ace thinks that you're going to fall out of love with him because of how he travels a lot but you could never.

Song: Friends · Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! Also please follow for more! 🫶

The salt spray kissed your face as you stood on the docks of Dawn Island, the familiar scent bringing a bittersweet ache to your chest. The Striker, Ace's ship, loomed large and imposing before you, sails already unfurled, eager to catch the wind.

You watched him, Fire Fist Ace, Commander of the Second Division of the Whitebeard Pirates. He was a whirlwind of controlled chaos, his black hair tousled by the breeze, that familiar mischievous grin plastered on his face as he barked orders to his crew.

He moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, a confidence that both thrilled and terrified you.

He caught your eye, and his entire demeanor softened. The boisterous commander vanished, replaced by the slightly awkward, endearingly clumsy man you knew. He waved, a wide, genuine smile splitting his face, and you returned it, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

He bounded towards you, his pace quickening with each step. “Hey, Y/N!" he greeted, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. He smelled of smoke and adventure, a potent combination that always left you breathless.

“Ace,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You wanted to say so much more - I’ll miss you. Be safe. Come back to me. But the words caught in your throat.

He reached out, cupping your cheek with his scarred hand. His touch was warm, grounding. "I won't be gone long, you know," he said, his eyes searching yours.

You forced a smile. "I know. Just...be careful."

He chuckled, a low, reassuring sound. "When am I ever not careful?" He winked, but you saw the flicker of something else in his eyes, a shadow of doubt you hadn't noticed before.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Hey, Y/N... You’re not… you’re not going to get tired of this, are you? Of me being gone all the time?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and laced with insecurity. It was the elephant in the room, the unspoken fear that had haunted your relationship since day one.

Ace, Fire Fist Ace, a man who commanded the respect of the entire Grand Line, was afraid of losing you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. You understood his worry. His life was a constant whirlwind of missions, battles, and adventures.

He was rarely in one place for long, and your time together was always fleeting, snatched moments amidst the chaos. It was easy to see why he might think you’d grow tired of it, that you’d yearn for a more stable, predictable life.

But he was wrong. So wrong.

“Ace,” you said, your voice firm despite the tremor in your hands. “Look at me.”

He did, his black eyes wide and vulnerable.

“Do you honestly think,” you continued, “that a few weeks, a few months, even a few years, could possibly diminish what I feel for you?”

He didn't answer, his gaze fixed on yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

You took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I love you, Ace. Not just the idea of you, not just the thrill of your adventures, but you. The man who burns with passion, the man who protects his crew, the goofy idiot who falls asleep in the middle of meals, the man who's scared of losing me even though he's the most fearless person I know."

You paused, letting your words sink in. "Your travels, your missions, they're a part of who you are. They're in your blood. I wouldn't want to change that, even if I could. And honestly," you added with a playful nudge, "who else is going to bring back the weird and wonderful souvenirs you always seem to find?"

A slow smile spread across his face, chasing away the shadows that had clouded his eyes.

"So, you're saying my collection of miniature sea king statues is a contributing factor to our unwavering love?"

You laughed, relieved to see him back to his old self. "It certainly helps." You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "What I'm saying is that I love all of you, Ace. The part that stays here with me, and the part that sails the seas. The distance doesn't matter. The fact that I would follow you to the ends of the earth should explain my side more clearly."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything." He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. "I just… I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You hugged him tighter, feeling his heart beating steadily against yours. “You won’t, Ace. I promise.”

He pulled back, his expression serious. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "For understanding. For being you."

He paused, then a mischievous glint returned to his eyes. "But just so you know, those miniature sea king statues are collector's items. They'll be worth a fortune someday!"

You rolled your eyes, laughing again. "Of course they are. Only you, Ace."

The ship's bell chimed, signaling his departure. He laced his fingers through yours one last time. "I have to go," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

"I know," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He leaned down and kissed you, a deep, lingering kiss that promised a swift return. When he pulled away, his eyes were bright with determination.

"I'll be back before you know it," he said. "And I'll bring you something even better than a miniature sea king this time."

With a final squeeze of your hand, he turned and strode towards the Striker, his figure silhouetted against the rising sun. You watched him go, your heart aching with longing, but also filled with a quiet confidence.

As the ship pulled away from the docks, Ace stood at the helm, waving to you until you were just a speck in the distance. You raised your hand in response, a silent promise echoing in your heart.

The days that followed were long and filled with a quiet solitude. You threw yourself into your work, helping the villagers, tending to your garden, and spending time with your friends.

You wrote letters to Ace, pouring out your thoughts and feelings onto the page, knowing that he would treasure them when he finally received them.

You missed him terribly, of course. The evenings were especially hard, when the silence of your small cottage seemed to amplify the absence of his laughter, his touch, his very presence.

But you refused to let the loneliness consume you.

You knew that Ace was out there, fighting, exploring, living his life to the fullest. And you trusted him to come back to you, just as he had promised.

One evening, weeks later, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the island, you were sitting on your porch, reading a book. Suddenly, a familiar voice shattered the peaceful silence.

"Y/N!"

You looked up, your heart leaping in your chest. Standing before you, grinning from ear to ear, was Ace. He was tanned and windswept, his clothes slightly rumpled, but his eyes were shining with happiness.

"Ace!" you cried, jumping to your feet and running towards him.

He caught you in his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "I'm back!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy.

You laughed, tears streaming down your face. "I see that! I missed you so much!"

He set you down, his gaze searching yours. "I missed you too," he said, his voice soft. "More than you know."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden box. "I told you I'd bring you something better than a miniature sea king," he said with a wink.

You opened the box, and gasped. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft velvet, was a single, perfect seashell. It was iridescent in the fading light, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

"I found it on a deserted island," Ace explained. "It reminded me of you. Strong, resilient, and full of inner beauty."

He took your hand, placing the seashell in your palm. "Keep it with you," he said. "As a reminder that no matter how far apart we are, my heart will always be with you."

You closed your hand around the shell, holding it tight. "Thank you, Ace," you said. "For everything."

He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes. "So," he said, his voice playful again. "What do you say we go inside, and I tell you all about my adventures?"

You looped your arm through his, and together, you walked towards the house, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and gold.

As you listened to Ace's stories, you knew, with absolute certainty, that your love was stronger than any distance, any challenge, any fear.

Ace thought you'd fall out of love with him because of his constant travels. He thought you'd grow tired of the uncertainty, the loneliness, the fleeting moments.

But he was wrong. He was so wrong. Because your love for him was a fire that burned brighter with each passing day, a flame that no amount of distance could ever extinguish. And you were ready to spend a lifetime showing him just how wrong he was.

You were ready to show him that some things, some loves, were simply meant to be. And yours, with Fire Fist Ace, was one of them. That shell, a precious gift from the grand line, stood as a testament to your love, a symbol of a bond that transcended the vast oceans and the perilous adventures.

It was a promise whispered on the wind, a reminder that even across the widest expanse, your hearts would forever remain intertwined. . . .

The raucous cheers still rang in your ears as you walked down the hallway, the scent of sake and grilled meat clinging to your clothes. The party was still going strong on the deck of the Moby Dick, the entire Whitebeard crew celebrating Ace's triumphant return.

A broad smile stretched across your face, mirroring the joy that bubbled within you. You had almost lost him. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a stark reminder of the fear that had gnawed at you during his mission.

You pushed open the door to Ace's room, a space that had felt eerily empty during his absence. Now, with him lounging on the bed, his signature freckled face relaxed and content, the room felt like it was finally breathing again.

You had spent countless hours in here, curled up with a book, lost in thought, or simply waiting, hoping for his safe return.

"It's good to be back," Ace murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the small space. He stretched, his muscles flexing beneath his sweat-stained shirt. "Thanks for waiting for me."

You chuckled, nudging him playfully with your foot. "Someone had to make sure your room didn't turn into a den of rats while you were gone."

He grinned. "And I appreciate it. You're the best, Y/N)"

The warmth of his words settled over you, a comforting blanket against the lingering chill of worry. "Glad to have you back, idiot. Now, if you'll excuse me," you said, turning towards the door, "I'm going to find you some clothes. You reek of gunpowder and sea salt, Ace."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist with surprising strength. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice a low drawl that sent a familiar flutter through your stomach. "Where do you think you're going?"

You laughed, trying to ignore the way your heart was suddenly hammering against your ribs. "I told you, Ace. I wanted to get you some new clothes. You stink."

He smirked, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "What if I took them off?"

The words hung in the air, thick with unspoken desire. Your breath hitched, your cheeks flushing despite your best efforts to remain nonchalant. You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure.

You knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew you shouldn’t be caught up in it. Not yet, at least. But the pull was undeniable, the magnetic force between you almost unbearable.

"Ace," you began, attempting a scolding tone, but your voice wavered slightly. "There's still a party going on. People will notice if you're suddenly missing."

He tugged you closer, your back now pressed against the door. The heat radiating from his body was intoxicating, his scent a heady mix of smoke and something uniquely him.

"Let them wonder," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I've been away for too long. I need to... readjust."

Your gaze flickered to his lips, drawn by an invisible force. His eyes were locked on yours, a silent invitation to lose yourself in the moment.

You knew this game, and you knew you were losing.

He always had this effect on you, a potent blend of charm and raw desire that melted your resistance.

"Ace, stop," you breathed, but the words lacked conviction.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Make me," he whispered, and a jolt of electricity shot through you.

Your hand instinctively reached up, tangling in his raven hair. "You're impossible," you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

"Only for you," he replied, his lips now tracing the curve of your jaw.

The dam finally broke. You surrendered to the need that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks, months even. You tilted your head back, giving him better access.

"God, I missed you," your voice was shaky.

Ace pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Missed you too, Y/N. More than you know."

You looked at him with a soft expression, the joy of his return still bubbling inside you. "Show me."

He didn't need any further encouragement. His lips crashed down on yours, a kiss that was both demanding and tender, a perfect reflection of the man you loved. You met him with equal fervor, your hands exploring the familiar contours of his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath his worn shirt.

The kiss deepened, tongues dancing, bodies pressing together. The world outside the small cabin faded away, leaving only the two of you, entangled in a web of desire and relief.

He slowly broke the kiss, his breath ragged. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with a passion that made your heart pound even harder. "I want you, Y/N," he said roughly, his voice thick with need.

You swallowed hard, your gaze unwavering. "I want you too, Ace," you breathed.

He wasted no time. His hands reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head. You reciprocated, fumbling with the buttons of his own, eager to feel his skin against yours.

The room quickly became littered with discarded clothing, tangible evidence of the urgency that consumed you both.

The party continued to rage on the deck, oblivious to the intimate scene unfolding in Ace's cabin. The sounds of laughter and music were a distant hum, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rasp of Ace's breath against your skin.

He lifted you onto the bed, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a fire in their wake. You met his gaze, your eyes mirroring the desire that burned within him.

He leaned down, his lips finding yours again, and you lost yourself in the moment, in the taste of him, the feel of him, the sheer, unadulterated joy of being in his arms again. . . .

[thatgurl3things]

MAID~~~~

One piece characters reaction to their girlfriend wearing a sexy maid outfit.

Warnings: slight suggestive nothing too crazy tho.

Characters: Zoro, law, kidd, ace, and Marco.

Zoro would initially be taken aback, his usual stoic demeanor faltering for a moment as he processes the sight before him. He’d try to play it cool, crossing his arms and leaning against a wall, but the slight blush creeping up his cheeks would betray him. “What’s with the outfit?” he’d grumble, trying to sound indifferent. However, his eyes would be glued to you, and he’d find it hard to concentrate on anything else. As the day goes on, he’d become more flustered, especially if you playfully tease him by bending over to pick something up. Eventually, he’d pull you aside, his voice low and serious, “You’re making it hard to focus… Let’s find somewhere private.”

Law would be intrigued and slightly amused by the sight of you in a maid outfit. He’d raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against a wall, arms crossed. “You know, that’s quite the outfit you’ve got there,” he’d say, his tone teasing. He’d enjoy watching you move around, a playful glint in his eyes. If you decided to tease him by pretending to serve him, he’d chuckle softly, but his heart would race. Eventually, he’d pull you closer, whispering in your ear, “You’re going to have to make it up to me for distracting me like this.” His hands would find their way to your waist, pulling you into him, and you’d know exactly what he meant.

Kidd would be unabashedly vocal about his appreciation for your maid outfit. “Damn, you look good!” he’d exclaim, a wide grin spreading across his face. He’d likely make a few bold comments, teasing you about how you should wear it more often. Kidd would be playful, perhaps challenging you to a little game of chase around the ship. As you run away, he’d enjoy the thrill of the hunt, his laughter echoing as he pursues you. When he finally catches you, he’d pull you close, his eyes darkening with desire. “You think you can get away that easily?” he’d growl, before kissing you fiercely, his hands roaming over your body.

Ace would be utterly captivated by you m in a maid outfit. He’d have that signature grin on his face, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wow, you’re really trying to kill me, huh?” he’d joke, though he’s clearly flustered. He’d love to see you playfully serve him, but he’d also be the type to pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. “You know, I could get used to this,” he’d say, his voice low and teasing. If you decided to play coy and tease him, he’d chase after you, laughter bubbling up as he tries to catch you. Once he does, he’d pull you into a passionate kiss, his hands exploring as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

Marco would be both surprised and delighted to see you in a maid outfit. He’d chuckle softly, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You look adorable,” he’d say, his tone affectionate. He’d enjoy the sight of you flitting around, but he’d also be a little protective, making sure no one else gets too close. If you decided to tease him, he’d play along, pretending to be oblivious while secretly enjoying the view. When you finally catch his attention, he’d pull you into a gentle embrace, his voice soft. “You know, you’re making it really hard to concentrate on work,” he’d murmur before leaning in for a sweet kiss, his hands tenderly caressing your back.

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! I’m going to make a part two with; shanks, mihawk, Aokiji, sabo, lucci. Let me know who else I should add!!!

[ink-perfect]

thinking about...

luffy and the way he is unapologetically full of love. living in an era that craves being detached and playing hard to get, he's a breath of fresh air - so uncomplicated, pure, and just. real.

he has that kind of charisma that can be charmed to lead a fleet, hypnotise a tyrant, or win over an island in a second flat. but the thing is, he doesn't care about any of that. he's not wanting to be cool or a player or anything of that sort; he's just monkey d. luffy, future king of the pirates.

this is a man who would hug you in the middle of a thousand people with absolutely no thought or care, grinning that big goofy grin of his, eyes sparkling with that childlike glee he can always seem to have, because he saw you across the deck. he doesn't do subtlety, he doesn't play games. he's an open book, loud and honest; when he loves, he loves with his whole chest - a hurricane of laughter, a whirlwind of warmth. in a world that has blurred the lines between love and lazy, luffy wears his heart on his sleeve, and it is so damn endearing.

and if there's one thing he sees other than meat, it's you. he sees you everywhere, even in himself: in the sparkle of his eyes at the tone of your voice, or how he will stop mid-bite (a big deal for luffy) just to listen to you talk.

he will let you cry on his shoulder, even when he doesn't know what to say, because sometimes, he understands it's enough to just be there.

he's one of those guys who's always chasing adventure, always running toward the horizon, yet without you even realising it, he had been bringing you along this endless journey, his hand clasping yours. you are sewn into the tapestry of his dreams, tucked between the discovery of the one piece and the thrill of the next battle. not to woo or prove anything to you, but more so because you have become as integral to him as the sea breeze at his back or the open expanse of ocean before him - freedom he holds so dear.

for luffy, love isn't about dramatic gestures or sweet words, though he does make a point of doing those for you as well.

it's more in the way he reaches out and snatches your hand up, yanking you off after him toward some mad new adventure without any afterthoughts. in the way he laughs with you into the dead of night or always manages to keep a place open beside him at banquet even when the food's all but gone (because of him, of course).

it's in the silent promise of his loyalty, as unwavering and steadfast as tides pushing his ship toward unknown shores.

and the crew? they, too, see this, no matter how observant they are. zoro, blind to everything but his training, and nami, with eyes that just always know, both notice the beauty of your connection to the same degree despite their disparity in intuition. they see how instinctively you two move toward each other, faces lighting up before a single word is even exchanged. even sanji has stopped teasing, not because he's run out of one-liners, but because he's actually, surprisingly, impressed at the sheer power of your love. usopp sometimes seriously wants to take notes for kaya after seeing just how enamoured the two of you are by each other.

and that is what it's all about: it is all so real with luffy: no games, no masks, no holding back. all or nothing, and with you, it's all. even during the filler episodes of your life, he is still there, soaking your presence like the sun seeping through sails.

to be loved by luffy means to be taken along in his world, the joy he feels is your own, the laughter yours mingled with his, carried off on sea breeze. it means knowing that no matter where the grand line may take you, or what dangers may come your way, there's always that simple, sincere smile waiting to greet you on the other side of the storm. and somehow, it will always be enough.

── ౨ৎ masterlist

[championofthefadeocs]

Miri De Riva x Davrin

[twoflowers]

Sentimentality - Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: The newest addition to the Straw Hat crew grapples with their easy affection, and especially with the attention from their doting cook.

Tags: SFW, character study, slight slash, scientist reader, no use of Y/N, female reader. First impressions, nakamaship.

Word count: 1397

Special thanks to @mere-mortifer for the encouragement to post my Sanji fics. I love your Sanji very much.

This one isn't very slash-y and honestly feels a bit incomplete to me, but I'm obsessed with this man in a psychological way and need to post at least something, even if it captures only an ounce of my insanity about him and the crew.

Also: thinking about making this into more of a series (as the reader is kind of based on an OC of mine...!). Please, please, Sanji fans: give me any and every prompt you can imagine.

__

Sentimentality

Every morning you settle into the golden-glowing comfort of the breakfast table: the press of arms against arms, the jostling of bodies to the time of the waves, the hard wooden bench softened despite it all. 

The captain is not at all what you expected. He’s a kid, and a downright grabby one at that. You have to slap his rubbery hands away from your plate at every meal, and if you don’t catch him, Nami always does.

You sit next to Chopper, whose tiny, furry body is so very warm. He likes to plan the day over breakfast, still thrilled to have another scientist on board. You watch him nibble at pancakes with his blocky teeth (it really is hard not to coo over him, but he has his dignity to uphold, so you restrain yourself!) and sip his milk and grin, white mustache and all. Robin leans over with a napkin to clean Chopper’s mouth, and he fusses, but concedes. Some of his drawings hang on the fridge, secured by magnets. You think of siblings with a pang in your chest every time you see them.

Roronoa Zoro is inexplicably softer than you imagined. There’s something about the curve of his cheeks, the careless sprawling stance, the way his nose whistles lightly while he sleeps. He barks laughter at Luffy, leans on his swords like they’re children, even smells better than Nami likes to say.

Robin terrified you at first, but you quickly became a sucker for her mellow gaze and old book smell. Besides, educated women are always of interest to you. Nami and Robin are incredible, always encouraging: proof that somehow, someway, a woman who has been chased out of her old life and hunted by the darkest parts of herself can uncurl and be seen. 

The first few sleepless nights aboard the Going Merry, you stared at the ceiling, heart pounding at the vulnerability of sharing a room. You are a scientist. You’ve long denounced the need for sentimentality, though Luffy manages to wring a few spare drops out of you every day. How could you have accounted for the love that permeates every board of this ship? How have you gone your entire life wondering if belonging like this could exist, only to find it among a notorious pirate crew- a crew who, really, is more bumbling than you could have imagined? How can Luffy stroll into any place- town, restaurant, heart- and break down every wall without a second thought?

And the cook… 

You have to look away from him sometimes. The first time he made a meal for you, he sank to a kneel to present it, like he was a servant and you were a queen who could take his head at any moment, and have it willingly. You took the plate with shaking hands and nodded a thank you. When he stood back up, there was a bit of dust on the knee of his fine-pressed pants. You kept your eyes on it as he fluttered around, crooning to the women and brusquely serving the men. What were you supposed to make of that?

Sanji squeezes your heart like it’s an old rag. The way he remembers your favored flavor profiles makes your toes curl. You’re not even sure you’ve managed to smile at him yet, even a month after joining the crew, because he throws you so off-balance you’re left feeling like you’ve been thrust into a hurricane without any solid structure to grip onto.

His… whatever it is- admiration, loyalty, devotion, all of the above and more- has only gotten stronger in the past month. He floats into the lab as if on a cloud to tell you he made you a snack and left it outside, mindful of the potential for contamination. He tells you how lovely your eyes look that day, and every day- that you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and that he lives to serve you.

“A snack for you is outside, miss,” he says today, like he’s itching to bow. “I prepared carrot cake and spiced milk for you, with turmeric, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Let me know if anything is not to your liking.”

You side-eye him from your bench, pipette paused in midair. Miss, miss, miss. Every time he says it you’re left breathless. As usual, you nod and mutter a thank you, still focusing on your work, lest you do something stupid like offering him your hand to kiss or backing him into a wall to taste his neck.

He usually leaves right away, but you don’t hear the door close today. When you look back at Sanji, he’s beaming, eyes practically heart-shaped. 

“May I make anything else for you?”

“No. That will suffice.” Something in your chest is shouting at you for being so formal with him. 

“I like carrot cake,” you add.

Sanji’s smile turns tremulous and melty. A hand moves to cover his heart. “I will keep that in mind. And I don’t wish to disturb you- your work is very important- but it will be best eaten soon, while it’s still warm.”

You surprise yourself by setting down your pipette and moving to the sink to wash your hands. Sanji is still lingering at the door as you scrub between your fingers and under your nails, similar to the way he washes his after handling raw meat. You take extra time drying off, the feeling of him behind you prickling at your neck. 

In the hallway, the cake and milk are placed carefully on a table. The mug is to the top right of the plate, handle tilted at the perfect angle for you to grab. A dainty dessert fork leans against the plate, next to two sprigs of mint forming a heart.

“I almost don’t want to eat it,” you say. “It looks perfect.”

“I can make you as many as you’d like, all with love. Please. It’s my pleasure.”

You lift the fork, and Sanji leans forward with the eagerness of a child witnessing a magic trick. When you take a bite of the cake, his visible eye widens.

“It’s delicious. Thank you, Sanji.”

Sanji lets out a shaky breath. “Of course, miss. I can make you anything your heart desires, provided I have the ingredients. And if I don’t, I will make sure to procure them as soon as we make landfall. And if you want them before that, I'll swim to shore.” 

Why does the man have such puppy-dog eyes? You know with certainty that he would do anything you asked of him, or else die trying, and you’ve hardly spoken to him. There’s a string of tension in his body when he’s around you, loosened slightly now that you’ve complimented his food. Is he just that eager to please?

You have met many men happy to go through the motions of wooing you for one reason alone, but something about Sanji tells you that he would be at your beck and call for the rest of your life, even if you never said “thank you” again.

You nod, moving to try the spiced milk, which is, of course, perfect. 

“I noticed that you like cinnamon, so I tweaked the recipe to add more.” He sounds hopeful. “You don’t find the turmeric overpowering?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, lowering the drink. “It’s good. You’re very… perceptive.”

“Of course! I pay special attention to my lovely ladies.”

You’re included in this group, somehow. Why does that make you want to push and prod at him, despite the measured indifference you’ve culminated?

“Sanji,” you say, and he snaps to attention.

“Yes?”

“Could I have some marmalade with this?”

This is the first time you’ve requested anything from him. A broad smile spreads across his face. 

“Right away.” He falls into a bow before walking down the hallway. When he’s out of view, you hear him begin to run, legs pounding the wooden floor strong enough to rattle the pictures frames on the walls. 

You pluck a sprig of mint from the cake, grinding it between your teeth. It’s refreshing, new, with a bit of a kick. You smile to yourself, imagining Sanji in the kitchen, carefully scooping marmalade into a dainty dish, heart thrumming with the thrill of receiving an order from his newest object of affection.

[roguelov]

Sleepless Nights (Part 2)

Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first

Word Count: ~3.8k

Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)

Warning: SMUT (unprotected sex, cream pie, riding, minor praise kink, inexperienced!Sanji)

Part 1

MINORS DNI/ 18+ ONLY

“Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”

Giggles - giddy and eager - cut into the still night air, only for muffled shushing to follow such unabound joyous noises. Footsteps padded quietly, or attempted to, across the creaky wooden ship deck.

Laughter and ruin would continue to fill the air tonight.

Just seconds ago, you and Sanji had merely tasted each other, and brought each other to pure ecstasy. Yet, it left a gaping hunger inside both of you. In a somewhat mad scramble, you hastily pulled on your sweatpants, knowing fully well they would slip right back off. You grabbed Sanji’s wrist, leading him back below deck.

To where? You weren’t entirely sure yet. Your room? His room? It didn’t matter, you just wanted him.

However, you only got a few steps before he yanked you back into his chest. He cupped your face, kissing you fervently. You hummed, delighted to be tasting the sweet wine of his lips. Your fingers carved a path down his chest. The tantalizing touches sent sparks over his wanting skin. Your hands landed at his hips. Grinning to yourself, your fingers sneakily skimmed further downward then cupped his half hard cock.

Sanji groaned against your lips. He broke the kiss, gulping down well needed air. His eyes dropped down. What were you -

You slowly rubbed him. He hissed, letting out a few curses.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured softly. He let out a breathy laugh and smiled up at you. His eyes - the color of the sea before a deadly storm - flickered down back to your addictive lips. “You are dangerous.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his and enjoying how his breath hitched slightly. “I know. Do you want me to stop?”

“God, no.”

Sanji kissed you again. It was loving and all consuming. He stole your breath without a second thought. Your knees felt weak under him. You instantly clung to him, he was your anchor in this raging storm of wants and hunger.

No, he was dangerous. He was brewing the perfect storm inside of you.

His lips slowly left yours. A soft whine rumbled in the back of your throat. You tried to lean back in to chase after them, to chase after such sweet nectar. Sanji smirked. He was thrilled to know he had such an effect on you. His lips trailed across your jaw then down your neck. You sighed, happily craning your head to the side. You would let him feast on you time and time again.

“Sweetheart,” he purred.

His confidence was growing, and the familiar honey rolled off his wicked tongue. He wanted to make you feel as you make him feel: weak.

He was weak for you.

So very, very weak.

How many nights had he imagined this scenario? How many nights had he touched himself to the thought of you? How many nights had you plagued his mind? He was weak like a starved man, only you gave him salvation and only you could satiate him. He wanted you writhing in pleasure after pleasure to understand a fraction of his hunger and devotion to you. What happened on the deck wasn’t enough. He wanted more, craved more.

Weak and hungry, that was what he was.

Sanji slowly kissed your neck, enjoying your soft sighs. One kiss there, one kiss here. One small nibble there. You hummed, smiling like a drunken fool. His teeth grazed along your skin, teasing where he might bite next. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Please,” he murmured, a small plea. “Let me hear you.”

He needed to know if he was doing everything right, and desperately wanted to hear all those delicious sounds fall off your lips. Sounds only he was allowed to hear. Each one was a shock to his system.

More.

He wanted to hear more, hoping to leave you completely breathless. His teeth sunk into you. He definitely wanted to mark your skin. He gently sucked on your neck and soothed any pains with his wonderful tongue.

You whimpered as his name tumbled out. You bunched up his shirt and walked backwards, trying to lead Sanji. You had to get to a room. You both were still in the middle of the deck. However, you moved only a few feet before Sanji pinned you up against the wall. His lips never left your neck. Gripping your hips, his thigh slipped between your legs. He pressed further into you, making you grind down on his thigh.

You moaned softly.

Sanji - your perfect storm - was learning. Every tease you did, he returned easily. He nibbled on your ear, whispering your name. His hand guided your hips forward, rubbing you against him again. Pleasure rushed through you. Yet, before he could repeat the action for a third time, you pushed off the wall, flipping him around. You quickly took charge, as if Sanji was truly giving you much of a fight.

He melted under your touch, like butter to a pan.

Your hands skimmed over his chest and stomach. You slipped your hands under his shirt. He hummed, arching his back slightly. You traced over his muscles. The cook was surprisingly toned, or you supposed it was obvious given his size despite the suits he typically wore.

Your nails scraped down, making him gasp. You smirked. As his lips parted in that sweet small gasp, you dove in, slipping your tongue inside his mouth. Sanji groaned as he put all his support into the wall. Blood rushed past his ears. But, it could not drown out the delightful sounds of your lips against his, of your tongue swirling around and tasting every part of him.

You truly made him weak.

Distracted by your mouth, one of your hands reached down again. This time, however, you grinded the palm against his painful bulge. Sanji’s eyes widened and he moaned loudly. Yet, you swallowed up each of his needy sounds. You did it again, and Sanji’s hips bucked into your touch.

God, you were torturous.

The sweetest kind.

Pulling away, Sanji was panting. You grinded your palm into him, just to hear his sweet moan without restraint. And he didn’t disappoint. God, it was beautiful. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and a dizzying fluttering in your stomach.

Biting your lip, you grabbed his waist and dragged him with you. It wasn’t elegant. You both clumsily stumbled around unable to keep your hands, or lips, off of each other. Your back soon smacked into a door. You blindly reached for the knob, and bumped it open. You unknowingly tumbled backwards into the kitchen, and Sanji blindly chased after you. Your back hit the counter as he trapped you in place. His lips once again happily kissing your neck. This wasn’t the place you initially wanted to be in, but it could work. Besides, neither of you could wait much longer.

You cupped his face to look at you. You asked, softly, “Here?”

He glanced around the empty kitchen. Perfect. To be honest, he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Where?” He whispered, excitedly.

“The bench.”

You gently pushed on his chest, leading him backwards to the ‘u’ shaped bench surrounding the suspended dining table. Sanji plopped down, staring up at you with stars in his eyes. You laughed lightly and slid into his lap.

You paused for a moment, wishing to admire the man before you.

You delicately brushed back his lush blonde hair to see all of his face. His lovely, handsome face. Your hands cupped his face, tilting his head back slightly. Your fingers glided down his face, following the curves and edges. A face sculpted out of sunshine and forgotten gold. And yet, his eyes glimmered like the treacherous unforgiving sea. Your thumb brushed along his lip, lips which were a siren’s call tempting you. And tempt they shall.

You captured his lips again, his divine lips. They were utterly addictive. You didn’t know if you could last a day without tasting them at least once.

Sanji groaned. His hands grabbed your hips, drawing you closer. There was too much space between the two of you, he needed to feel you up against him. His hand slipped under your shirt, placing the flat of his palm on your lower back. Your bare skin was so inviting and soft against his calloused fingertips.

“Can - can I take this off?” He murmured to your lips.

His hand kept crawling up your back, impatient and giddy to see all of you.

You whispered, “Yes.”

You lifted your arms, allowing Sanji to take the leading step in this dance. He bit back a smile. His fingers curled around the hem of your shirt. His heart pounded like a schoolboy, so much that he felt it in his fingertips. He tugged it up, carefully. Your vision was blinded for a second as the shirt was pulled over your head and tossed onto the floor. Sanji’s eyes greedily drank you in.

“Sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” he mumbled.

Your heart fluttered under his praise and reaction. He hesitantly reached up, only to bring his hands back down. “Touch me,” you breathed out. “You can touch me.”

He swallowed, and nodded. His hands shook lightly with overwhelming nerves and excitement. His hands cupped your breasts so delicately as if you were made of glass, as if he was afraid he may break you.

You purred, “Keep going.”

Sanji shivered. Keeping his eyes on your face, he slowly kneaded your breasts. You sighed, blissfully. Pleasure began to crackle over your skin. With each sigh, Sanji kept going, kept playing with you. His thumb and index finger pinched and rolled your perked nipples.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you moaned, “Sanji.”

Oh, he loved that sound.

His cock twitched in his pants.

His eyes dropped down to your breasts. He licked his lips, feeling his mouth water. He bent his head down. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples. You gasped. Your hands flew up, digging into his shoulders. His tongue swirled around as he gently sucked on it.

“Fuck,” you mewled.

Your hands moved and threaded your fingers through his hair at the base of his head. Your fingers curled tugging on his golden locks. Sanji hummed, such a sensation sent a spike of pleasure through you. He removed his lips, and trailed a line of kisses across your chest to your other neglected breast. You bit your lip, trying to be quieter. But, Sanji’s wondrous vile mouth was making it difficult. He was dragging out and down into an ocean of pleasure. One swift under current and you were drowning in him.

You grinded down.

More.

You will happily drown even if he was your demise.

Sanji popped his mouth off and hissed, “Oh, fuck.”

You chuckled faintly. You repeated the tantalizing action. Sanji groaned loudly, throwing his head back. You wouldn’t waste an opportunity. You instantly latched your lips onto his neck, biting and sucking just as he did to you. You wanted him to drown just as you were.

Sanji whimpered.

Your lips curled into a smirk over his neck. Your fingers fell from his hair and down his chest. You bunched up his shirt. “Can I -“

He didn’t let you finish. He quickly pulled away and removed his shirt, adding it to the floor besides yours. You blinked then laughed.

“Okay, loverboy,” you smiled. “Eager, are we?”

Sanji’s cheeks flushed. “A bit.”

Your smile grew at his honest words. “That’s okay, so am I.”

You pecked his lips, short but still oh so sweet, before you dipped your head further down. He laid back into the bench as your lips skimmed over his stomach. You peppered soft butterfly kisses all over him. At each delicate touch of your lips, Sanji’s heart skipped. His eyes fluttered closed as you wove this loving spell over his desperate body. Until, that was, you nipped at his skin. Lust and desire was mixed into the spell. You injected it into his veins, making him gasp. Your sinful lips trailed upward. A patchwork of love bites criss-crossed over his body. Bruises would bloom tomorrow and he would cherish each one. As your lips brushed over his nipple, your eyes flickered up, seeing his eyebrows pinched together in pleasure. Smirking, you swiped your tongue over it.

He moaned, arching his back, “Sweetheart, I - I -“

I want you, I need you, he thought.

You knew how to make his body scream out, knew how to leave him gasping, knew how to make this nearly invincible cook into a puddle under your devilish fingertips. You kissed up his chest until you were face to face with him. “Come on, Sanji, use your words,” you teased.

“Oh, you little -“

He was cut off as a moan ripped out of his throat. You had grinded down on him, sending another wave of pleasure surging through him. You truly loved how easy it was to make him fumble over his words, to know you held such a devastating power over him.

“Speak up.” Your lips curled into a mischievous smile.

His lips were only a paper width away. His eyes constantly jumped between your eyes and your lips. He needed to taste you again, to feast on you in every possible sense. His arm curled around and his palm landed on your back, keeping you close.

“I need you, sweetheart.” His eyes seized their jumping and landed back on your lips. “Please.”

Your expression softened at his plea. “Okay.”

However, it wasn’t romantic. It was frantic. You leapt up removing your sweatpants while Sanji awkwardly wiggled out of his. No, not romantic. But, dear god, your hearts pounded with such excitement and adoration.

You paused again, glancing down at him. Propping himself on his elbows, he took you all in, trailing his eyes up and down your body. You immediately felt hot under his gaze, then he smiled. He smiled widely with that boyish charm of his.

“Beautiful,” he breathed out. “Absolutely stunning.”

You dropped your head, hiding your bashful smile. Shaking your head, you crawled back into his lap. His hands gently held your hips, still staring up at you with hearts in his eyes. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles over your skin. You brushed back his curtain of hair again. He leaned his head towards your warm hand. He grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. He turned his head and kissed your palm.

Perhaps, this was romantic.

Your heart skipped. “I’ll take care of you, okay?”

His eyes glanced over to you and smiled, “I trust you.”

“If anything feels wrong, tell me.”

“I will.”

You kissed him, sweetly. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Sanji’s body buzzed with excitement at your promise. You would make him feel good, you would do everything you could to do so. But, you also would tease him.

Just a bit more.

Just to draw out his pleasure more.

You lowered yourself, and rubbed your dripping folds against his tip. Pleasure crackled down his spine. He hissed, tightening his grip on your hips. If this small act gave him this much pleasure, he didn’t know what he would do once inside of you.

You rubbed yourself down the length of his cock. Fuck, this was making you more wet. The feeling and thickness of him, his moans, it all made your heart flip and your cunt throb. You could rub and grind against him all night, getting off on this sensation alone.

Sanji moaned loudly.

“You might want to keep your voice down,” you whispered with a light laugh. “Wouldn’t want to wake the others.”

“Fuck -“ he choked on his words - “I’m trying, sweetheart, but - fucking hell, you’re - you’re -“

Teasing me, ruining me.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Please, I want to feel you, can I? Can I be inside of you?”

You leaned down, kissing his pouty lips. “Yes, of course, I did promise I would take care of you.”

Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. You lined yourself up, and slowly - so very slowly - sank down. You wanted Sanji to feel every inch, to feel how your body adjusted to his size and shape.

And, oh boy, he did.

His head tipped back into the bench cushions. He clenched his jaw. His fingers buried into your hips, bruising them. It was a miracle he didn’t slam you down.

You finally bottomed out, sitting beautifully in his lap. Your hand splayed across his chest as you tried to catch your breath. You shivered in delight. You felt full. He stretched you in a way you truly never felt before. A soft whine hummed in your throat.

So full, so stuffed.

Panting, Sanji glanced down. He swore viciously at the sight. His cock had disappeared inside of you. His mouth dried up. You were so warm, so inviting. Then, you began to move. You lifted yourself up all the way and gently sank back down.

Sanji choked out a moan.

Your bodies were meddled together perfectly. He was made for you, and you were made for him. His mouth dried up as he watched. It was utterly memorizing as you took all of him. Moving up and down at a steady pace, you wanted to ensure Sanji felt everything. Fuck, he was. His body and mind were being consumed by pleasure. Your cunt hugged his cock, almost unwillingly to let go.

“Love, can - can you go faster?” Sanji begged.

Ecstasy turned to sweet nearly unbearable agony. Your pace was torturous as pleasure filled every part of his body. A soft whimper escaped his lips. He craved more, wished for more, and will continue to beg for more.

He was at your mercy.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I can.”

As you picked up your pace, Sanji moaned unabashedly. His sweet moans, your combined panting, the slapping of skin, and the creaking of the bench filled the quiet night air in the dark kitchen.

“Fuck,” he hissed out and instinctively bucked his hips up.

You moaned, “Shit, keep doing that.”

You pumped yourself at a faster pace, rolling and grinding your hips while feeling as Sanji bucked up hitting deep parts within you. It was heavenly. Each stroke made you choke on pleasure, leaving you gasping for air. His name fell off your lips. You tipped your head back, arching your back.

Sanji almost drooled at the sight.

His lips begged to drag over your body, tasting every inch of you. He wanted to tease your breasts again. He wanted to run his hands all over your curves. God, he loved those soft sighs you made. He loved how your face twisted in pleasure. He loved knowing your beautiful face was the first he saw painted in this light.

His heart leapt.

God, he wanted to devour and mark your body. Your sweet body called to him, tempted him. But, all he could do was stare; stare as your breasts bounced up and down to your pace, stare as sweat beaded across your chest making him lick his lips, stare as your swollen lips fell open with another lovely moan. Stare and stare while feeling his hunger grow.

Your hand slid down your body. Sanji’s eyes followed your fingers, curious as to what they were about to do. Your fingers then reached down, swirling and playing with your clit. Your walls clamped down around his cock.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he moaned, snapping his hips up again. He didn’t think more pleasure was possible.

Your head tipped back forward smiling down at him. “You’re doing so good for me.”

The praise was a bolt down his spine. His cock twitched at the sweetness that dripped off your lips. He only ever wanted to be good for you and no one else. He dragged you down again, pushing deeper inside of you. Your hands flew down to his chest, moaning. Soon, a new pattern emerged. Every time you came down Sanji forcibly bucked up.

He was a very fast learner.

Your nails scratched along his flushed skin. Purple spots and red ribbons will adorn his body in the coming days. Marks he will wear with pride. He hissed through his teeth, “Love, I - I won’t last any longer.”

“That’s okay,” you murmured. You lovingly cupped the side of his face as you continued to ride him. “Cum for me, Sanji.”

He whimpered, nodding.

Towards the end, it was animalistic.

It was utter desperation.

Sanji hungrily snapped his hips at a sloppy unruly pace. You grinded down onto him, rolling your hips. He groaned, arching his back. You had truly ruined him. He had feasted upon you to never go back. You will leave a crater sized hole in his chest forever. You and you alone could only fill.

Grinding down once more, Sanji groaned, cumming inside of you.

“There you go,” you whispered. You continued to ride him, working him through his orgasm and reaching your own.

His eyes lazily glanced down, seeing the white ring around his cock and his cum spilling out of you with each thrust. He whined and thrusted his hips up again, “Please, love, let me see you, let me hear you.”

A smile ghosted over your lips.

Your pace faltered as your legs started to shake. Yet, Sanji continued to guide you, helping you along. He wouldn’t dare leave you in such a desperate and hungry state. Luckily, you had an idea.

You extended two fingers towards Sanji’s lips. “Suck, please.”

Sanji didn’t need to be told twice. He happily wrapped his lips around your fingers, sucking on them. His tongue ran and swirled over the pads of your fingers. You whined and shivered at the sensation. You swiftly pulled them out of his mouth, then swiftly played with your clit again.

You moaned loudly.

Sanji’s heart skipped. “Come on, love.”

Your walls fluttered. Sanji groaned, feeling you around him.

“That’s it, please let me see it,” he mumbled, still snapping his hips up.

Playing with yourself, Sanji’s pleas and his constant thrusts, it all pushed you under the current. Pleasure, unadulterated pleasure, was wrought into your body. Your walls clamped down as you came all over him. You moaned out his name which soon morphed into a small whimper.

Sanji swore at the sight.

Your hands rested on his chest, needing something steady to lean on. Both of you were panting as if swam across the sea. You picked up your head. His stormy blue eyes locked with yours. A lazy smile spread over his lips then he laughed lightly. He was still in a dreamy daze, he almost couldn’t believe it.

“Tired?” You joked in a quiet voice.

“Exhausted,” he murmured, staring at your lips again.

You laughed once. You leaned down, kissing him softly. He hummed. You pulled back, but Sanji sat up, stealing one last kiss. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Come on,” you whispered, already starting to move. “Let’s clean up and go to bed.”

“And will I be joining you in bed?” Sanji teased,unadulterated while secretly asking.

You smiled, “I was hoping you would.”

[elwensa]

I just love them your honor. Those who know me know about this: I am not a fan of shipping. like, at all. But one thing I like is canon ships. When I first learned that Gossan and Porphy were flirting in the game, I found it kinda weird. They seemed very different from each other. Then I thought about it. And the idea of Porphy's down-to-earth and calm demeanor could work quite good with Gossan, who's working with thrill-chasing Slate and Feldspar and a nervous Hornfels. And then I fell in love with those two. I thought outside their flirty nature, they could be one heck of a healthy couple. I like that Porphy is very caring towards Gossan, who in return showers them in compliments, attention and cheesy flirts. I also like the idea that they're trying to keep their relationship a secret, while the whole village is fully aware of what they're doing.

[readychilledwine]

Threesome

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth ✨️

Threesomes fall into a few different play types: domination, voyeurism and exhibitionist, and Zelophilia *jealousy play/competition play* and there is a ton of psychologically behind why couples or even singles looking for new fun may partake in one. Threesomes are so desired in the kink community for a few reasons. Here's a few of the most common:

Polyamory - Some people genuinely do enjoy sexual and non sexual connections with multiple partners, so threesomes are a natural outcome of that mindset and lifestyle. It isn't for everyone, but for those who enjoy having multiple partners, there is nothing more satisfying than getting to express the love and joy you all share in one mess of flesh and sweat.

Sexuality exploration (especially among the bisexual community) - it helps allow you to explore questioning sexuality or known sexuality with multiple genders, two people of the same gender, gender fluid people. It can also help if you have a bisexual partner who misses the touch and feel of the sex they are not currently with.

And rekindling - a threesome is an exciting new experience a lot of people do not commonly get to try due to insecurity, jealousy, lack of foundation and trust in the relationship, but when/if you are lucky enough to get to have one, it's. So. Thrilling. It is a new person you get to show off for, a new performance, a new stimulant. It can help rekindle passion, bring new spark, and in some cases teach new methods and positions you haven't tried before.

Threesomes are not something to just casually throw into your love life, though. Threesomes can destroy a relationship as quickly as they can add to it. You have to make sure you and your partner agree on your third that boundaries are set and understood and that you both feel secure. Otherwise, like we talked about with cucking, this can destroy a relationship fast.

Also, before the ask even comes in. Yes. The answer to your question is yes, because at least one of you is going to secretly wonder and possibly send the anon.

💕Peep the Kink Bingo Masterlist Here💕

✨️ As always, NSFW below cut ✨️

Lucien x Reader x Azriel

Warnings - dom!Lucien, sub!reader, switch!Azriel, oral (m and f), competitiveness, mentions of Tamlain (which has potential as a ship 🤔), technically dp, praise kink, ps this dynamic was hard to write, so I went with my heart, hopefully it isn't disappointing.

“She doesn't even want you!” You sighed, swirling the wine you had been nursing for the past 30 minutes as Lucien and Azriel fought.

It was no wonder Elain had run and fallen straight into Tamlin's arms. The two males before you were constantly at odds with each other, constantly stroking their own egos, fighting like children trying to claim the last piece of candy, and quite frankly, they were irritating.

You sighed as your mate's winged flared in anger at that statement, "And what? Do you think she wants YOU? That's comical, Vanserra. Really." You had thanked the Mother and Cauldron for Azriel daily, you truly had, but something about Lucien had captured your mind, and the male, still upset about his own bond failing due to your mate, had taken advantage of that. That didn't stop you from loving Azriel, though. From wanting him. From wanting both of them.

You two had not planned on falling in love with both, but here you were, married to Lucien due to a drunken night in Adriata and mated to Azriel.

You didn't understand why Elain felt the need to choose and to chase. You could have them both if you wanted, and just to prove that point, you untied the satin robe you were wearing, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Lucien was the first to notice as Azriel continued ranting. His hand had gone to your thigh instantly, eyes locked on your own as he devoured the sight before him. You reached for his shirt, pulling you to him and settling him on top of you. “You sure?” It took Lucien's husky voice dripping in desire for Azriel's shadows to curl his ears, whispering that you were staring at him, waiting. 

“I want you both. Please.” Lucien was more than happy to oblige, placing soft kisses down your body, relishing in every noise as Azriel stared, eyes wide in lust and shock. 

Lucien wasted no time, going to where you wanted him most and nipping at your inner thigh as he placed them over his shoulders. Lucien looked up at you, eyes locking on yours as he took his first lick at your core. He smirked with pride as your head fell back, a mix of a moan and sigh leaving your throat. You reached on hand to Azriel, the other tangling into Lucien's hair. Azriel moved to you, breath slightly hitched. He squatted down by you, grabbing your throat gently right as Lucien locked your bundle of nerves between his lips, licking and sucking on it. 

Azriel held you in place for him, a smirk growing on his face. “Look so pretty like this, baby,” his free hand moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples and groaning as he watched you try to squirm only to be held in place by Lucien. Azriel tutted you softly, “Be good for Lucien, sweetness. Gotta listen and stay where he wants you, or I'll just play with him while you watch.” 

Lucien groaned against you, fingers squeezing your thighs as if he enjoyed the thought of that. He looked up at you, one eye whirling to search for any sign of discomfort, the other blown out with lust and need. 

Lucien didn't eat you out like a male starved. No, every lick and suck was methodically planned. It served a purpose to send wave after wave of pleasure down nerves begging for more and more. You heard Azriel's clothing coming off, and you felt the room shift as you got closer. “Hurry up and finish her off, Lucien. The quicker we get her onto the bed, the sooner you find out what a gift her mouth is.” You whimpered, drooling at the thought of choking on Lucien. "You want that, don't you, y/n?" 

Azriel forced you to nod, laughing at your big eyes and quick submission. Azriel pushed Lucien's head further into your cunt, watching with heated eyes as your head went back further into the pillows, breathing becoming more shallow and rushed. "Gods, she's fucking close. Look at you, Lucien, making our girl so happy. Do you want her to cum for you?” Lucien grabbed your thighs higher, pulling you into him more and moaning at Azriel's hand, tugging and tangling in his red locks. "How lucky am I? Two beautiful submissive little creatures both so eager to please.”

You felt Lucien's smirk, knowing he had just as much of a dominant streak in him. You were just happy to be there. To play the part of this needy creature, especially if it meant drowning in pleasure. Lucien pushed a finger into you, curling it and chuckling as you gasped his name, toes curling. He focused on you and you alone, not even watching as Azriel went down to you whispering in your ear as his scarred hands tweaked and played with your nipples. 

You were a mess for them already. Core drenched and begging, clenching around Lucien's single finger tighter and tighter as your moans and cries began louder. Falling over the edge with Lucien was always easy. He didn't make you see stars. He made you see worlds. He made you cry and beg. It was no different with an audience. Lucien forced you over that edge, hands tangling into his hair, screaming his name, and coaxing little noise after noise of over stimulation from you once your high ended. And then jealousy flooded that bond you shared with Azriel. 

Azriel lifted you from the couch as Lucien watched, taking you over to your bed and tossing you down with effort. Lucien seemed surprised by the smile that appeared in your face as you got onto your knees, hands roaming Azriel's chest as the male pulled your hair back and forced you into a rough kiss. 

You held a hand out to Lucien as he did, a quiet invitation to join you two instead of just watching. Perhaps it was selfish, but you wanted his hands on you, wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel both of them. Lucien came to the bed and started kissing down your neck, warm hands resting on your hips. “So fucking beautiful, baby,” his voice caressed your ear, sending shivers up and down your body. 

Azriel pulled apart, hazel eyes filled with lust. His hand went to Lucien's face, and his thumb traced his plush lips. “I believe she thinks the same thing about you.” Azriel ran his hand down to Lucien's throat, squeezing it softly, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

It was then that you giggled, and Lucien smirked, “Are you?” The question sent electricity through the air. It bought a new challenge, a new competition between the two males. You scooted away as Azriel studied Lucien, watching and waiting. “I promise you this is a game I will win,” Lucien raised a brow to Azriel. “Can you handle that?”

For the first time in the many years of friendship you and Azriel shared, you saw him blush, “I-”

“Let us take care of you, Azriel,” the domination in Lucien's tone was so gentle. “When's the last time someone took care of you?” Lucien stood and moved Azriel to sit on the bed. With a quiet authority, he used two fingers to beacon you over to him. “Lovely, I want you to undress him for us.” 

“Yes sir,” Your hands went to the clasps around Azriel's wings, undoing them while you kissed the side of his neck. Once the back was able to free his wings, you moved in front of him, hands running over the smooth fabric before pulling the shirt off. 

You had to resist the urge to lick every dark bargain tattoo to trace each swirl like you knew Azriel loved. Lucien had given you a task. One you had to focus on. Your hands went to his pants, and he stood to allow you to slide them and his underwear down. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. It was hard, leaking, ready. Lucien grabbed you by the back of your neck, stopping you from what you desperately wanted to do.  “Hands and knees on the bed. You have to be good to earn his cock.” 

Azriel watched you obey in silence. Lucien wasn't forcing. He wasn't rough, and he didn't have you screaming and drooling. He just commanded and used gentle touches, and you obeyed. “Do you want to get her ready, or do you want me to?” 

“I will,” Azriel ran a hand over your ass and Lucien stopped him before he could spank you. 

“Be gentle with our girl. She's been such a good listener. She deserves soft tonight.” Azriel could hardly understand what that meant, what being soft in bed meant. “Submission is a gift. Look at how easily she handed us that present. Doesn't she deserve to be treated well for being such a good girl?” 

Azriel felt a wave of something setting in. If he was good, would he get a reward? Would he get to be loved this gently? He ran a finger through your core, making you cry out, and slowly, he pushed it in. You felt your eyes roll as he did, feeling yourself stretching around just his finger. 

You had always told Azriel how much you loved his scars, and it took him fingering you 3 times for him to find out why. He began to open you slowly, pressing each movement in the area he knew you loved the most. Lucien leaned down and captured Azriel's mouth in a long overdue kiss. 

This is what they needed the whole time. And outlet to their mutual attraction. A place they could safely explore each other. Lucien began to stroke Azriel's cock as Azriel added another finger inside of you. Your moans and cried were background music to them as Lucien pulled his mouth away. “Do you want her pussy or her mouth? I'm more than happy to just watch you fuck her while she sucks me off.”

Azriel hummed, “She's more than capable of handling-”

“She wants one of us in her mouth. We've had enough sex at this point while you've been enjoying the pleasure houses that I know her. If she was in the mood for anal, she'd be very vocal about it.”

Azriel's fingers pressed hard into your gspot, making you scream his name. “Please. I need more. I need-” 

“Don't beg,” Azriel growled at you. Lucien glared as you whimpered in submission. “I also know her. Look at how wet and ready she is. She could handle it.”

“It's not a question of can or can't, Az. It's if she wants to. Y/n, what do you want?”

Azriel felt your core Tighten around him, pleased Lucien cared about your wants and needs. “Not anal,” Lucien motioned towards you after your answer.

“If you let me pick, I'm taking her mouth,” Lucien said plainly.

Azriel huffed and nodded, “I've never been this gentle with her.”

“Clearly. She loves it. Look at her.” It was true you did. You were relaxed in a state of complete bliss, moaning as Azriel's fingers touched all the best places. Azriel was memorized by the sight. By you not bending and breaking to his will as a dom, but flowing and thriving under another male's. You listened without question, didn't mouth off to Lucien. This side of you, this pretty girl, he liked her almost as much as he loved his little brat.

He loved the part of you that sassed him, that pushed him, but this, this beautiful offering of whatever they wanted as long as you wanted it as well, it made his heart flutter. Azriel moved behind you as Lucien moved in front of you. Your hand was instantly on the Day Court heir’s cock, stroking him in time with Azriel's fingers. “Whenever you're ready, Az,” Lucien was staring into your eyes as he spoke. “She's ready.” 

Azriel took his fingers out, coating himself in your essence before lining up with you. Taking Azriel was always a stretch, and Lucien praised you both all the way through it, “Look at how good you two are. Perfect little pets for me, aren't you?” 

Azriel groaned at his words as he began a gentle but deep pace. He hit every spot so perfectly filling you like your body had been made for him. You focused then on Lucien's aching cock, moaning as you licked your way up and took the head into your mouth. Lucien relaxed on his knees, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he guided you in time with Azriel.

It did not take long for the pace to get frenzied, for the two males to be focused in bringing you to completion again in order to allow them to chase their own highs. 

Each moan around Lucien had his head falling back, and each twitch of your core had Azriel cursing. You could feel heat rising and building. You could feel core lower stomach getting tight in need. 

Azriel looked to Lucien and the male smirked and nodded. You screamed as Azriel began pounding into you. His thrusts became rough and deep. He arched your back more allowing him to hit your gspot over and over as he pushed you further onto Lucien's cock. 

Lucien smirked down at you, “This is when you look prettiest, you know that? Choking on a cock, stuffed full. You look so pretty when your eyes glaze over and you get desperate. You want to cum, don't you angel?” You could only moan around him in response as Azriel grabbed your arms, leaving you fully at their mercy and forcing your muscles to strain. 

The heat in the room grew to a roaring fire as the noise of slick and skin meeting skin rang in the air. You could feel that boil threatening to burst, feel it aching as you were used by the two males you love. This was heaven. It was safety. It was burning passion. A shadow moved to your clit and you lost it. Moan became whines and whimpers. 

You could tell Lucien was close. His eyes were screwed shut. His pace in your mouth was sloppy. Between your tongue, the vibrations of your pleasure, and newness of the 3 of you together, you could feel him twitching, feel him ready to release. 

He held you to him as he came, and Azriel continued pounding. You swallowed every drop of him greedily and whined as he pulled out. “She's so close,” Lucien forced you to look at Azriel. 

Your mate smirked before planting one foot on the bed and his pace became impossibly faster. Both males laughed as your eyes rolled in pleasure and your jaw fell open. Azriel groaned loudly as you tightened around him, “That's our good girl. Cum for us. Finish on my cock.” 

With a flick of a shadow and one well aimed thrust you fell apart, screaming as you tumbled from that edge. Azriel immediately lost himself in the feel of you pulsing around him and found his release moments later, listening as Lucien praised you and talked you through your high, guiding you back to them. 

You collapsed into Lucien's lap and Azriel into your back. The room was filled with the sounds of labored breathing. Azriel gently pulled out of you and Lucien took the towel the house summoned to clean you all off. 

You had never been more thankful for a large bed in your life as the three of you laid there processing what had happened. “This is happening again,” you declared firmly. Lucien just nodded, and Azriel agreed softly. 

"I've never handed over control," Azriel confessed softly. "I've never done that."

Lucien just smirked at his accomplishment, "Then, with me is a safe place to learn."

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[poisoned-fruit-prose]

𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬.

synop: viktor chases after a beloved memory with you.

wc: 614.

includes: nothing but love and fluff.

author's note: season 2 destroyed me enough to make a fic blog, so that tells you just about all you need to know. i'd like to think of this as a memory viktor looks back on while he's up in astral la-la-land, in a world where you are his "only you."

this is the 2nd person POV version of this fic. if you'd prefer 3rd person POV, you can find that here.

“This should do it,” you murmured. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Viktor replied warmly, stepping beside his beloved and wrapping his arm around your waist. The newest development in Hextech sprawled over the table before you, ready for its final test. It was an attempt to recapture a memory you held close to their hearts: the night you first tested Hextech, where you were left floating among stars. You were chasing after something personal, so this was little more than a side-project; but funding after the Hexgates’ success was vast, and what was life without a little fun?

You turned the dial and watched as the gemstone spun into the air, capturing sparks from the arcs surrounding its divot. Slowly, you turned it up to its full capacity, until the gem whirred with great intensity and it grew difficult to look at the bright sparks of light. There was always the fear this would kill you—but the thrill of discovery always overcame it.

The noise and light peaked with an innocuous explosion. The pair opened their eyes.

A sea of stars floated alongside you within your high-ceilinged lab; a globe of runes rotated around your cores. You laughed when you caught Viktor’s gaze, his own joy apparent. You quickly became accustomed to your weightlessness and floated towards each other, guided only by your wants and the arcane’s willingness to give it to you. You met above the spinning crystal and embraced. Viktor kissed you softly, and you returned it in kind.

It was only a few minutes before you donned the harnesses that would allow you to stray from the crystal’s initial field; it captured the magic and generated a sort of fuel to continue flying wherever you pleased. A single gemstone over the heart radiated light.

You're first to test it. You opened the window and jumped off the balcony; the force of your plummet gave you incredible lift, and you whooped as you shot into the air. It was golden hour, and the sky was filled with the biggest, fluffiest clouds. It was the perfect day to go flying.

Viktor followed, linking hands with you when he met you in the air. Without weight on his leg, Viktor was giddy to lead. He pulled you along, giving you the momentum to zip through the air as fast as you pleased.

You watched over the beauty of Piltover, of its gardens and brass glinting in the setting sun. The sheer height of the glass allowed you to peer into the biodome at the heart of the university. Ships flew above you, people walked below you; you carved a new path into this life of yours.

You both slowed down to walk on air. A head on Viktor’s shoulder, his head atop yours. You glided through gardens, pink petals floating on wind, golden light sparkling off fountains, a breeze following your movements.

You hardly spoke, but neither of you had to. What was there to say that wasn’t already known?

A ding on your harnesses warned your fuel was halfway gone, yet you only smiled on your way back to their lab. What little time you spent in the air was enough to last you a lifetime. You would keep this memory even closer. Hands tightly woven, you floated gracefully down to the alabaster balcony, where Viktor landed and kissed you before you were even out of the air. Your hair wove in the breeze of your landing, haloing you as you came to rest in Viktor’s arms.

“I think we can call that a success,” he said through a laugh laced with adoration. You merely kissed him again in response.

dividers used: sparkles • star

[bblovetarot]

{𖨆♡ 𖨆} Who will be your next partner?

ʚ ═══･୨ꕤ୧･═══ ɞ Pick a Pile ʚ ═══･୨ꕤ୧･═══ ɞ 

. ༄ . paid readings . ༄.

。°⚠︎°。follow your intuition when choosing a pile. if you're drawn to more than one pile, that's okay! you may have messages in more than one.

。°⚠︎°。tarot readings are not 100% accurate, and do not dictate your future. please keep in mind that you have free will. these readings are also general and aren't specific to one person, so please take what resonates and leave what doesn't! 

Pile 1

Pile 1, your future partner seems like a bit of a mystery wrapped in a dream. They're the creative type, always eager to lend a hand but not so great at asking for help themselves. It seems they've been through the wringer in love before, maybe coming out of a tough situation when you meet them. This person feels things deeply, maybe even gets lost in their emotions sometimes. They might seem distant to others, but that's just because they struggle to express what's going on inside. Misunderstood as aloof, they're actually just wrestling with a jumble of feelings. Despite this, they're not ones to shy away from adventure. They've got a spark for exploration, a childlike wonder that's both bold and brave. When it comes to decisions, they're all about following their heart, even if it leads them into uncharted territory. So, get ready for a partner who's a bit of an enigma, but with a heart full of courage and a spirit yearning for new experiences.

Pile 2

Pile 2, your potential match is a real go-getter, always aiming to steer their own ship. They might seem a tad controlling, but really, they just value their independence and don't like being told what to do. Rebels at heart, they're not big on following the crowd or taking advice from others – they trust their gut above all else. They're come off as confident and may have a bit of an ego. They might prefer short-term flings over long-term commitments, relishing their freedom and not feeling the need to settle down. They could be a bit of a catch, with plenty of admirers vying for their attention. Living life on the edge is their style, always chasing the next thrill. Yet, beneath that daredevil exterior lies some emotional baggage from past hurts. They might not have fully dealt with it, which sometimes leads them to push the limits. Despite this, they handle it with grace, giving off an air of composure. They're more laid-back than they let on, though, trusting their intuition and going with the flow. Life's too short to sweat the small stuff, and they're all about making the most of every moment. Your next partner is someone who has equal parts spontaneous and soulful, ready to dive into life headfirst and enjoy the ride.

Pile 3

Pile 3, your next partner might not be so new after all – you might already know them. It could be someone you've had a bit of a break from. Work seems to have been a big priority for them, maybe even causing some strain in your relationship. You both decided to take some time apart, but it was always with the understanding that it wasn't goodbye forever. This isn't a case of ghosting; it's more like a mutual agreement to hit pause for a while. Deep down, you both know there are things that need to be hashed out, conversations waiting to happen. They've been sending mixed signals, leaving you feeling a bit confused and maybe even rejected. But hey, you've moved past that – your gut tells you there's more to this story. It's time to have that heart-to-heart you've been putting off. Who knows? There could be some big revelations waiting for both of you. Despite the ups and downs, you trust your intuition when it comes to this person. So, get ready to dive back in and see where this journey takes you.