#still on a break but i felt the need to put this out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rex-rambles · 20 hours ago

Text

➤ HELLO DARLIN' (SMAU + FIC)

pairing: daniel ricciardo x countrysinger!reader

summary: you and daniel have a falling out - can an old loretta lynn song bring you back together? (inspired by 'Hello Darlin' by Loretta Lynn)

wc: 1.6 k

warnings: angst with a happy ending :) faceclaim: megan moroney

➤ MASTERLIST

Liked by kelseaballerini, dollyparton, and 1,361,092 others

yourusername Thank you, Nashville! Needed some of that hometown healing

↳ kelseaballerini 💙 💙 💙

↳ yourusername my favourite VIP

↳ fan54 seeing you live was unreal!! missing you already

liked by yourusername

↳ fan105 anyone notice Daniel wasn't in attendance??

↳ fan29 he's at the Singapore Grand Prix

↳ fan243 he didn't even like the post

f1gossip Fans noticed that Daniel Ricciardo and long-term partner @/yourusername have unfollowed each other on Instagram.

↳ mclar_win NO, PLEASE NO

↳ fan105 Daniel has to be in the wrong here, the songs she wrote for him were so sweet

↳ fan29 the break-up songs are going to be next level

↳ f1-fanatic so you're telling me he's single

↳ fan12 so you're telling me SHE'S single!!

Liked by kelseaballerini, zachlanebryan, and 1,418,122 others

yourusername I promise I'm getting work done this week, just you wait

↳ kelseaballerini recording? without me?

↳ yourusername you know you're always welcome 🫶

↳ zachlanebryan can you come open the studio door?

↳ fan44 OH MY GOD

↳ fan243 the collab I have been WAITING for

↳ fan98 stay away from her

Liked by yourusername, kelseaballerini, and others

triple_j On this weeks 'Like a Version', country singer @/yourusername puts her own spin on Loretta Lynn's 'Hello Darlin'. Giving us a behind-the-scenes look at why she chose the song, she explained that her love for old country songs, and her own overuse of the word darling, made it a perfect fit. Only this time, she isn't the one apologizing - the listener should be.

↳ kelseaballerini you're so talented, I can't believe you @/yourusername

↳ yourusername it was an honour to sing with y'all!!

↳ fan98 you can't tell me this isn't about Daniel.

↳ fan243 I'd bet real money on it

You were aware it was all a matter of circumstance. The wrong words, the wrong day, the wrong emotions. It had felt like the past month of your relationship with Daniel, he'd been pushing you away, devoting himself to his racing with a vigour you'd never seen before, forgetting every other responsibility he had.

Then, one random Tuesday afternoon, it had all snapped. All the years you spent together turned into one sentence:

"Who cares about your music?"

You were aware it was all a matter of circumstance, but that didn't make it sting any less. Daniel had tried to backpedal, to apologize, but the worst was done. Until he could get his head out of his ass and realize what he was doing to the people around him, you weren't going to be a part of it.

Didn't mean you didn't miss him any less. Kelsea had stayed up with you at ungodly hours of the night as you poured your heart out to her, how the man who meant so much to you had changed. She'd been the one to show you that he'd been dropped from F1, that he was retiring, and the world slowed a little, and started to make sense.

Sitting here, waiting for him now, you wonder why he didn't say anything. He'd been racing a long time, sure, but look at Fernando - who knows the age limits of F1 drivers. It had never occurred to you that he was working so hard to save his seat, but that still didn't excuse his behaviour.

The Nashville heat was evident, even this late at night as you sat curled up on your balcony. If you strained, hard enough, you could make out the music of some bar nearby, a nice old tune if it weren't blasted at such a volume. He said his plane was getting in at 11, and as the clock got closer to midnight, you wondered if he'd actually show.

He always kept his word, it wasn't like he'd say that and disappear, but this was the first real rough patch you'd hit, and neither of you was really sure how to navigate it.

"Hello, darlin'?" You bolt up, peering over the railing and down to Daniel in the street, blue bouquet of flowers in hand. He had always been one for little romantic gestures, and even after everything, it still hadn't changed. "You know, I'd serenade you, but you are the singer in the relationship, and I don't think the paparazzi need to hear that."

"I mean, they might appreciate the show." It's old banter, like nothing had changed, like the last time you saw him you hadn't stormed out of his hotel room sobbing. You both realize that you'd slipped into old habits like worn boots, and end up staring at each other for a bit too long.

"You going to let me up?" Something unknowable passes over Daniel's face as he says it, and you silently nod, moving back into your apartment to buzz him up. You knew he had the spare key, had spent enough nights here to know your keycode, but it was still nice of him to ask.

In an instant, he's at your front door, and this close, you realize just how much you missed being in his presence. That song wasn't just a random choice. You had listened to it on repeat after everything you went through, and realized every word was about Daniel. Only, you weren't sorry, besides that it all went down the way it did. You're sure he felt the same way, and he holds out the bouquet with a small smile.

"They're a bit crushed, since they're from England."

"England?" You let him into the space, setting the flowers down on the kitchen counter to deal with them later. Last you checked, he'd be in Singapore, or maybe back home in Australia.

"I had to finish my offboarding." He admits quietly, still not moved from his place just a few steps in from the door. "They got some celebration stuff they want to plan for me, too, but yesterday made it official."

He was no longer an F1 driver. You're not quite sure what to say, knowing how much love he put into the sport, but also the relief that it's all over. He did his best, he was moving on, but it still didn't make it hurt any less. "When do you have to go?"

"The end of the week." Four days. That's how long you had him for. "I've booked a hotel, just a few streets over."

"What?" Then, it dawns on you again why he's here in the first place. "Oh."

"I was a dick." Daniel finally begins, setting down his backpack as he approaches you. He stops, the kitchen island between you, and you know if you look into his eyes any longer you're going to cry, so instead, you focus on staring at the flowers he brought. "I was so involved in the end of my career that I ignored how important yours was, and that wasn't fair of me."

"Why didn't you say anything?" You knew he was stressed, you knew how hard this must have been for him, so why wouldn't he let you in? Every time you went through something, he was right there, listening to you, ready with solutions, or to just validate you.

Why didn't he think you'd do the same? "I didn't really know, but I had a hunch. I thought...if I said anything, it might come true, but I guess it did anyway." He lets out a weak laugh, before slowly moving around the counter to stand right in front of you. "I never should've said what I did, and I hope you know how grateful I am for your music, and everything you've written about me, and I'm so proud of all that you've done."

If the sight of him alone wasn't going to make you cry, his words most certainly were. You immediately step forward, wrapping your arms around his torso and pulling him into you, and you bury your face into his sweater, revelling in the smell of him. "I'm not going to lie and say it's all okay," Your voice is muffled by the fabric, and you pull away so he can hear you better. "But I understand what the pressure is like, darlin'. The only thing is I make sure to talk to you about it, rather than try to hide it away."

"I'm just sorry. So sorry." Then, the first tears fall, and you unloop your arms from him to wipe at his cheeks, holding him there as he tries to take deep breaths. Seeing him like this hurt more than the distance, knowing that it got to the point where he pushed you out before he could even think to pull you close. You should've been there for him, and the guilt of missing his last race still hangs over you. "I wish you were there for my last race." He continues, taking a deep breath, and your vision blurs as you blink away your own tears.

"I wish I was there too." You whisper as Daniel's hand comes to cradle yours, pulling it away from his cheek to press a kiss to the palm. "I'm sorry about your seat."

"Ah, well. I've finally got some free time on my hands." He cracks a small smile, and you can't help but smile back. If there was a silver lining, in all of this, it was that Daniel was now a whole lot more free for you, and you needed to make up for lost time. "I hear there's this great country singer touring right now, might go see her."

That pulls a laugh out of you, shaking your head as he lets your hand drop. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Then, with the reality of everything hitting again, his eyes dip to the floor as he admits, "I really...I'm really going to miss racing."

"I know, love." You link your hand with his, pulling him away from the counter and toward the couch, and you force him to sit. You stand before him, holding his face in your hands, and wiping the last of the tear stains away. "But I'm here whenever you need me."

"Yeah?" This would never have ended in heartbreak. There was no universe where you and Daniel didn't repair everything you went through, because that's just who you were. You made mistakes, and you fixed them together because even hurtful comments in the heat of the moment can't break your love for him.

"Yeah. I told you, you're a hard man not to love, darlin'." He pulls you down onto him, looping his arms around you to hold you close. You press a kiss to his cheek as you relax into him, having missed the ways his arms feel around you. Neither of you speak for a while, just listening to the sound of each other breathing as you let yourself take up space in each other's lives again. Then, when it feels right, you rest your head back against his shoulder to look at him. "I picked up some things for you since we were running low."

Confusion crosses over Daniel's face as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hm?"

"Shampoo, your toothpaste, all that." Something sparks in his eyes, a realization that, despite the whole apology, you'd already planned for him to stay, already got his favourite things. You might've been hurt, but there's no way Daniel's staying in a hotel, away from you, when that bed's been calling his name since he left. "What? You really think you were coming here tonight for me to kick you out?"

"I love you, you know that?" Those words always sounded so nice, coming from him, and tonight's no different as you lean forward to properly kiss him. It's a tender thing, kindled only by your time apart, no need to rush into something more than just sitting on the couch and letting each other be.

"Oh, I do." You say against his lips, hand smoothing against his chest. "But, it wouldn't hurt to have a little reminder-"

Daniel's kissing you again before you can even finish the sentence, and you decide that for the next four days, you're not moving from this couch, and you're not moving from his arms.

f1gossip Making up (or making out)? Though his trip was short, Daniel Ricciardo was spotted by fans with @/yourusername clubbing and karting in Nashville!

↳ fan5 They're following each other again too!!

↳ brocedes thank god, after losing his seat? I couldn't imagine losing my girl

↳ fan84 i told y'all!! it was nothing

↳ fan243 we better get some good music out of this

A/N: know that if I could, I would make country music themed fics about all the racers.

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smau #daniel ricciardo #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 social media au #f1 smau #reader insert #➤ dr3 #missing cowboy daniel rn

138 notes · View notes

loafysainz · 2 days ago

Text

the parent trap (remake) END | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

prev chap

Part 19 Our Happy Ending

The rain poured steadily, a soft but persistent reminder that summer was coming to an end. It wasn't just the season changing—the air felt heavier, thick with the kind of sadness that came with saying goodbye.

Carlos held Mattia tightly, his arms wrapped around his son as if he could somehow freeze this moment in time. Mattia didn’t pull away either, his fingers gripping the back of his father’s jacket like he was memorizing the texture. But they both knew—no matter how badly they wanted to stay like this, they couldn’t.

Just a few feet away, Matheo was locked in an equally tight embrace with their mother. Matheo clung to her, his face buried in her shoulder, like he was trying to breathe her in. Neither of them spoke, but everything they needed to say passed between them in the silence. When he finally pulled away, Matheo met Mattia’s eyes across the small distance. It was time.

The boys turned to each other, stepping forward in sync, and without hesitation, wrapped each other in a hug. It wasn’t a goodbye—more like a promise. They had made a deal, and now, it was time to keep it.

Matheo gave a small, sad smile, and Mattia mirrored it. Neither of them liked this plan, but they were doing it anyway. One last squeeze, and then Matheo reached for the umbrella, popping it open with a soft ‘whoosh’ as he prepared to walk Mattia to the waiting taxi.

Under the shelter of the umbrella, Mattia glanced ahead. Martin and Chessy were there, saying their own goodbyes, making everything feel even more final. The taxi idled by the curb, its engine a low hum against the sound of the rain.

At the entrance of the house, Y/N had stepped forward, lingering near the door. Carlos met her gaze, a beat of hesitation stretching between them. The tension was there, heavy and unspoken, tangled up in years of history. Y/N was the first to break it. “Take care,” she said, her voice level but distant.

Carlos seeing her for a moment, before nodding slightly. “Yeah... thanks.”

Y/N looked at him then—actually looked at him—for the first time that night. It lasted only a second before she extended a hand. There was another pause, brief but loaded, before Carlos reached out and shook it. Firm. Final.

With that, Y/N turned away. She opened her own umbrella and stepped into the rain, walking towards the taxi where Mattia was waiting. Before getting in, she crouched beside her son, brushing soft hair away from his face. “I love you,” she reminded to Matheo, because she needed to say it one more time.

Matheo nodded, blinking rapidly, not trusting himself to speak.

Y/N climbed into the taxi, and watching as the door clicked shut. The driver put the car into gear, the wheels splashing against the wet pavement as the vehicle pulled away.

Inside the house, Carlos and Chessy stood just past the doorway, watching as the taxi disappeared down the street. The house suddenly felt quieter, emptier. It wasn’t a goodbye forever, they knew that. But it still felt like one.

*****

When they arrived in London, the rain never left them. It clung to their clothes, misted the windows of the taxi, and filled the silence between Y/N and Mattia. The entire trip had been like this—quiet, heavy, with emotions neither of them dared to voice. Y/N caught glimpses of her son wiping away a few stray tears, but she said nothing. What could she say?

They stepped into the house, shaking off the rain, yet the silence stayed. Y/N closed her umbrella, glancing around. Something felt off.

"Dad?" she called, placing the umbrella by the door. The lack of response unsettled her. "Dad? Where are you?"

Mattia, his small voice filled with uncertainty, called out next, "Grandpa?"

Y/N frowned, her instincts sharpening. She gestured toward the living room. "Stay here, baby. I’ll go check his office."

The boy nodded and sank onto the couch, swinging his legs nervously. Meanwhile, Y/N walked down the hall, already guessing where she'd find him. The office door was ajar, and inside, someone sat reading a newspaper.

"Dad, you worried me for a moment!" Y/N said, relieved—until the paper lowered, revealing not her father, but Matheo.

Y/N froze.

Her son, comfortably leaning back in the chair, shot her an easy grin. "Hey, Mom. Did you know the train gets you here in half the time?"

Y/N blinked, her mind scrambling. "Y—yeah. Something like that."

Before she could fully process Matheo’s presence, Mattia peeked into the room. His eyes widened. "What are you doing here?"

Matheo stood up, stretching like he had all the time in the world. "Oh, you know, when you guys left, it took us about thirty seconds to realize we didn’t want to lose you again."

"Us?" Y/N repeated, confused.

A familiar voice answered from the doorway.

"That’s right."

Y/N turned so fast she nearly lost her footing. Carlos stood there, hands in his pockets, an unreadable expression on his face. The air seemed to thicken between them.

"I was wrong," Carlos admitted. "Not looking for you sooner—I won’t make the same mistake again."

Y/N felt something in her heart tighten. She clenched her jaw, willing herself to keep it together, to not let this moment break her. But then Carlos took a small step closer, and suddenly it was too much.

She swallowed hard, her throat tight. "And I suppose now you want my legs to shake? To throw myself into your arms, crying so hard?"

Carlos said nothing. Just watched her. Just waited.

Y/N let out a breathy, almost bitter laugh. "And let me guess, this is the part where everything magically falls into place? Where we take care of our beautiful children together and live happily ever after? Grow old and—"

Y/N words caught in her throat as she looked into Carlos’ eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on her. A few tears slipped past her defenses.

Carlos didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and cupped Y/N’ face in his hands, thumbs brushing gently against her cheeks. "Yes," he said simply. "Together. And everything you just said. But Y/N—" his voice softened, "you don’t have to cry."

Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of Carlos’ hands against her skin. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t pull away.

Carlos searched her face for a moment, then, without hesitation, leaned in. The kiss was slow, careful—like he was afraid Y/N might shatter. But Y/N didn’t move away. Instead, she melted into it, her fingers curling around the fabric of Carlos’ shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her upright.

It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an apology, a promise, a plea for forgiveness all in one. When they finally pulled apart, breathless, Carlos rested his forehead against Y/N’, his hands still cradling her face.

"We’ll figure it out," Carlos whispered. "Together."

Y/N exhaled shakily, eyes searching his. "You better mean that."

Carlos smiled softly. "I do."

Mattia’s heart was pounding in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. But looking at everything around him—the warmth, the laughter, the overwhelming joy—he knew it had all been worth it. He collapsed onto the couch beside his twin brother, exhaling deeply.

Next to him, Matheo practically vibrated with excitement. He wanted to scream, to jump up and down, to let all the built-up anticipation explode out of him, but he held back. Instead, he flashed a grin so wide it hurt his cheeks.

“We did it,” he said, barely above a whisper, the words filled with nothing but pride and relief.

****

The ship rocked gently on the water, just like it had all those years ago. Only this time, instead of two strangers meeting for the first time, it was two people who had always belonged together—finally finding their way back.

Y/N stood on the deck, the ocean breeze making her veil flutter behind her. She was radiant, laughing softly as Carlos brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. His eyes, full of the same love he had for her when they first met, never wavered.

“Déjà vu?” he teased, tilting his head.

She smirked. “Except this time, I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”

“And?”

Y/N pretended to consider before she grinned. “I’d say it’s worth the risk.”

Behind them, Martin dramatically dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, while Chessy leaned into him, smirking. “If I start crying, punch me,” she whispered.

Martin sniffled. “No promises.”

The ceremony was simple, perfect—just family, just love, just them. As Carlos and Y/N exchanged vows (for the second time), the twins squeezed each other’s hands, their hearts nearly bursting.

When their parents sealed it with a kiss, the entire deck erupted into cheers. Matheo and Mattia whooped, jumping up and down like they’d just won the lottery.

Laughter echoed across the deck, champagne glasses clinked, and somewhere in the background, soft music played. It was the kind of moment you’d want to freeze in time forever.

And, of course, Matheo and Mattia had ‘just’ the idea for that.

“Picture time!” Matheo announced, grabbing the camera. “We need a new wedding album, people!”

Carlos chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. “Didn’t we already have one?”

Mattia grinned. “Yeah, but this time, we get to be in it.”

The first photo was classic—Carlos dipping Y/N into a kiss, just like their wedding day years ago. The twins groaned dramatically but still smiled, knowing this was the moment they had dreamed about.

Next up, absolute chaos.

Martin and Chessy were caught mid-laugh, the former dramatically clutching Y/N’s father, who looked equal parts confused and amused. Chessy was leaning into Martin, wiping away fake tears. “I swore I wouldn’t cry,” she deadpanned, right as the flash went off.

“Too late,” Martin sniffed.

Then came the big family photo—Carlos, Y/N, the twins, Grandpa, Chessy, Martin, and even Sammy the dog, who somehow made it into the frame at the last second. Matheo and Mattia stood front and center, identical grins on their faces, arms wrapped around each other.

One last shot—just the twins. Annie held up a peace sign, Hallie flashed a thumbs-up. They glanced at each other right before the shutter clicked, both thinking the exact same thing.

‘We did it.’

Because, after everything, this was their happy ending.

OMG GUYSSS WE MADE IT!!! 🤍🤍🤍 I still can't believe this story is officially DONE. Thank you so much for sticking around, for all the love, the comments, the reactions—literally everything. Y’all made this journey 1000x more fun, and I couldn’t have done it without you 🫶

See you in my next work! 😉 if you have any requests, feel free to drop them! My request box always open for ideas—I’d love to hear what you guys wanna see next 🤍

#f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fluff #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #f1 x reader

134 notes · View notes

dreameyess11 · 2 days ago

Text

Irresistible

James Potter x Reader

You never meant to get caught up in James Potter’s chaos. He was charming, yes, but entirely too reckless for your tastes. Still, there’s something about him—maybe the way he struts into every room as if he owns it, or how he always manages to make you laugh even when you’re scowling at him.

Take this morning, for example. You’d just settled into the library, determined to finish your essay on the practical applications of nonverbal spells, when he appeared out of nowhere, flopping into the chair across from you.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” you asked without looking up, already dreading the inevitable distraction.

“Spending time with my favorite person, obviously,” he said, propping his chin on his hand and grinning like he’d been caught doing something wicked.

You snorted. “Right. Because that’s exactly what I need while trying to concentrate.”

“What can I say?” he said, leaning closer. “I’m charming and irresponsible.” He paused dramatically, then corrected himself with a cocky smirk. “I mean, irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might stick. “Keep telling yourself that.”

But James wasn’t deterred. If anything, he took your sarcasm as a challenge. Over the next week, he made it his personal mission to win you over, employing every ridiculous tactic he could think of.

One day, you found a bouquet of enchanted daisies on your desk in Charms, each flower whispering, “Go out with James Potter!” in singsong voices. You pretended not to hear them, but you caught yourself smiling anyway.

Another time, he orchestrated a scene in the Great Hall, standing on a bench and loudly declaring, “There’s only one person in this entire castle who can make my heart race faster than a Quidditch match, and they’re sitting right over there!”

You nearly choked on your pumpkin juice. “Merlin’s beard, Potter, sit down!” you hissed, your face burning as the entire table turned to look at you.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hazel eyes sparkled with mischief when he caught your gaze—or the way your heart skipped a beat when he grinned at you like that.

It wasn’t all grand gestures, though. Sometimes, James surprised you with quiet moments that felt... different. Like the time he found you sitting by the lake, lost in thought, and simply plopped down beside you without saying a word. He didn’t try to make you laugh or tease you into a reaction; he just sat there, letting the silence stretch comfortably between you.

“Why do you even bother?” you asked eventually, breaking the quiet.

“Bother with what?” he replied, tossing a pebble into the water.

“With me. You could have anyone you want, Potter. Why waste your time chasing someone who’s... not interested?”

James turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “Because you’re different. You don’t put up with my nonsense, and you make me want to be... better.”

For once, he didn’t seem like the cocky, overconfident boy you’d always pegged him as. Instead, he was just James—genuine and a little vulnerable.

And maybe that’s when it hit you: you didn’t dislike him as much as you pretended to.

The next day, when he approached you in the common room with that same incorrigible grin, you decided to throw him off.

“All right, Potter,” you said, crossing your arms. “One date. But if you embarrass me even once, it’ll be your last.”

His eyes widened in mock horror. “Me? Embarrass you? Never!”

“Don’t push your luck.”

He laughed, and the sound was warmer than the crackling fire behind you. “You won’t regret it,” he promised, offering you his hand.

And maybe, just maybe, you believed him.

#fanfic #james potter #the marauders #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders #james potter fic #imagine #Spotify

117 notes · View notes

babejinxy · 2 days ago

Text

In love with you - part 7

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

You woke up the next morning and slowly opened your eyes. You were with your body facing the back of the couch, your arms were curled up on your torso and your right leg was between Powder's legs, who was facing you, her left hand was below her head while she had her right arm around your waist. She was still sleeping peacefully, with her lips half open and light breathing, which blew on the back of your neck and tickled you. You smiled as you remembered the events of the previous night and slowly shifted your position so that you were facing her, taking great care not to wake her. Powder shifted a little as you slowly pulled your leg from between hers, but she didn't wake up.

You watched her sleep for a few minutes while you thought about everything that happened. Powder was your best friend, she knew everything about you, she knew your darkest secret to your most beautiful dream, she knew you down to your last hair and you would trust her with your life, so why wouldn't she be the right person for you to trust your heart to? For the first time in your life you weren't feeling incomplete, Powder was there.

You reached out to brush her bangs out of her eyes and before you could pull your hand away, Powder took her arm from around your waist and held your hands that were on her face. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” you said softly. “I’m not awake, I’m still dreaming,” she whispered with her eyes closed, caressing your hand. “Then it’s a good dream,” you whispered and brought your face closer to hers, kissing her on the lips. “Did you feel that? It’s so real,” you whispered as you pulled away from her. “I’m still having trouble knowing what’s a dream and what’s real babe, I think I need more,” she whispered, her beautiful husky voice breaking a little.

You smiled at her boldness and lifted your head from the pillow to get closer to her face again. Powder felt anxious to have your lips on hers again and when you brought your face closer to hers, you closed your eyes and slowly brought your mouth closer to hers. The tip of your noses touched each other's cheeks and you kissed her again. This time Powder kissed you back, closing her lips between your lower lip. You were kissing very slowly and the only sound in the workshop was the kisses of your lips dancing together. Powder put the tip of her tongue on your lips during the kiss to deepen it a little more, but keeping the rhythm slow, and you let her tongue touch yours. She let go of your hand and held your waist, caressing it over the white sheet that covered your naked bodies.

You pulled away from her lips and a string of saliva connected them to hers. Powder opened her eyes and smiled, “morning baby”, she said softly. “Morning love”, you replied laying your head on the pillow. “Did you sleep well?”, she asked still caressing your waist. “Sure, and you?” She showed her teeth in a smile, “like never before”. “Good,” you said quietly. Powder dragged her hand from your waist to your face where she caressed it with her thumb and then outlined your lips with her finger. “Beautiful… you’re beautiful anyway, so so beautiful,” she said and went back to caressing your cheek. “You’re beautiful too babe”, you said smiling looking into her eyes.

Powder brought her face closer to yours and looked at your lips before kissing you. You kissed slowly, your tongues meeting and touching each other softly. With a sudden movement, she laid her body on top of yours and put her left arm above your head on the arm of the couch, while she held your neck gently with her other hand. You opened your legs a little so she could fit between them and you sighed when her pelvis pressed against yours, separating your lips from hers. Powder took advantage and pulled your lower lip between her teeth gently but agonizingly slowly.

Powder released your lip and passed his lips over your chin, kissing it. The heat coming from your bodies together covered by the sheet mixed with the warm temperature of the room and it started to get difficult to stay that way. “Powder baby, it's so hot,” you said between heavy sighs because Powder was kissing hot, open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. You pulled the sheet off your bodies and Powder lifted her torso off yours just to help you take it off and you pushed it down with your feet.

“How about this gets even hotter, huh?”, Powder said kissing your lips and deepening the kiss with her tongue on yours, making you shiver. “Can I?”, she whispered with her eyes closed, brushing her lips against yours and moving her lips down to your neck. You closed your eyes and lifted your head on the pillow, giving her more space to kiss your neck, the good feeling of her lips on your skin made you lift the corners of your lips in a soft smile, “yes… yes you can, love”, you answered between sighs, the smile still drawing your lips.

You felt Powder's lips on yours again and you sealed them in a slow, hot kiss, your tongues tangling with each other. Powder slipped her right arm between your bodies and placed her hand on your bare, wet pussy and massaged it, separating your folds with her fingers, making you gasp between her lips. You spread your legs wider so she could have better access and bit your lower lip and then smiled at the good feeling of her slender fingers rubbing your smooth pussy. Powder slowly licked your bottom lip to your top lip and gently sucked on your tongue before kissing you again and you bit her bottom lip as she began to gently stimulate your clit.

“Mhmm that feels so good Pow Pow”, you said between sighs, smiling a little. “Shhh… I know babe, now focus on that and relax”, she said with her soft voice close to your ear, making you shiver. Powder made a trail of soft kisses from your jaw to your right breast and delicately kissed the entire length of it before running her tongue over your nipple and sucking it lightly. The slow and gentle movements of Powder’s fingers on your throbbing bud and her lips and tongue on your nipple were so satisfying and wonderfully delicious that they were even relaxing and you sighed and moaned softly at the sensation.

The blue-haired girl kissed the skin between your breasts and moved her kisses up to your lips again and kissed you for a while before separating her lips from yours and you smiled at each other. Powder lifted her torso a little off yours and slipped her fingers - already lubricated from your excitement - from your clit and slowly inserted them into your hole making you move a little, you sighed, moaning softly and closed your eyes at the feeling of her fingers filling you. Powder didn't take her eyes off you enjoying your facial expression responding to her touch and bit her lower lip.

The movement of her fingers moving in and out of you was slow, deep and smooth and she had you sighing quietly beneath her, sometimes you moaned softly as she curled her fingers inside you hitting that specific spot and it felt perfectly good. You held her face with both hands while she had her left arm resting on the arm of the couch above your head. Powder made sure not to miss any detail of your beautiful face, the way your mouth was half open, the way you bit your lower lip every now and then and how your lips stretched into a slight smile, your sighs and your low and soft moans every time she curled her fingers inside your pussy all of it was very satisfying to her.

Powder lowered her head and spread kisses across your face and you smiled before letting a little moan escape your lips which were also pecked by her, opened your eyes and they met hers and you two smiled.

You felt a wave of heat run from your foot to your head and your hole began to pulse rapidly and you arched your hips slightly, you were going to cum in minutes and Powder knew it too when you began to whimper and your walls began to squeeze her fingers. She curled her fingers inside you once more and then you felt a sensation of relaxation and pleasure run through your entire body.

Powder pulled her fingers out of your hole as you calmed your breathing. You closed your legs together and tried not to blush as Powder took her fingers coated in your juices into her mouth. You were never shy during sex, but with Powder it was different, you were feeling different, but it was the best feeling of your life.

“I love you,” she said, caressing your cheek with her thumb. “Good… because I love you too,” you took her hand that was on your face in yours and kissed it. Powder smiled just like you and intertwined her fingers with yours as she lowered her head to reach your lips.

You were enjoying the moment when you heard the workshop door open and Ekko's voice echoed through the place, "Powder? Are you here?" Your heart felt like it was going to come out of your mouth just thinking about being caught and you covered your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing. Powder put her index finger to her lips, signaling for you to be quiet. "Ekko... don't come in here, I can't right now," she replied, trying not to sound too apprehensive. "Is everything okay?" Ekko asked. "Uh-huh, I'm just... fixing some things, I'll call you when I'm done." Ekko shrugged and said before closing the door, "ok ma'am."

You and Powder started laughing in relief and then she lay down next to you on the couch and you intertwined your legs. “What did he want so early, anyway?”, you asked. “Hmm… it’s probably something about his project for the innovators competition, he’s so scared about it and it’s only next year”, she shook her head. “Or maybe he just wants to spend more time with you”. She sighed before saying, “maybe now he’ll wake up from this illusion”. You turned to the side to look at her, “imagine everyone’s face when they find out about us”, you laughed a little. “Hmm everyone’s crush dating her best friend? It’ll be fun… Mylo will have a heart attack”, she joked. “Oh poor Mylo”, you laughed.

You knew that the only thing you had to worry about was your family, more specifically your mother. For her, being friends with a Zaunite was tolerable, but dating someone from the Undercity was out of bounds. But you loved Powder and you wouldn't let anyone ruin that, not even your prejudiced family.

“Okay but now…”, Powder said climbing on top of you, “stop talking”, she whispered and crashed her lips into yours. You placed your hands on her chest and forced your torso on top of hers, inverting your positions, getting on top of her with your knees on either side of her on the couch. You both smiled before going back to kissing. Powder placed her hands on your waist, wandering down to your hips and up to your waist again, squeezing from time to time.

You took your lips away from hers only to say, “so that’s it… now we’re girlfriend and girlfriend?”, you laughed a little. “That’s exactly it babe”, Powder replied bringing her right hand to the back of your neck only to bring your head down and crash her lips on yours again. She pulled your lower lip and invaded your mouth with her tongue while she slid her hand down to your ass and squeezed the flesh making you gasp. You brought your left hand to Powder's left breast and massaged it, squeezing it a little every now and then and caressing her nipple, making her bite your lower lip in response. Powder lifted her left leg a little and pulled you down by your waist against her thigh, she returned her hands to your ass and pulled you making your pussy rub against her thigh. A moan caught in your throat and you squeezed her breast a little harder before lowering your hand to her swollen bud and pressing it a little making her gasp into your lips, as she guided you to rub your wet pussy against her thigh again…

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

After your fifth orgasm in less than twenty-four hours, you and Powder washed up, put your clothes back on, and headed to The Last Drop for breakfast. Vender always opened the bar at 9:00 am, it was still a few minutes away, but Powder had a spare key. “Jeez, I’m starving,” you said, throwing your bag on the counter and walking in behind it as Powder locked the door. You turned on the coffee maker while Powder opened the fridge to get the eggs.

“Can we have pancakes?”, you asked with a pout. Powder turned to look at you laughing a little, “this is a bar babe, we don’t have pancakes”. You clicked your tongue while rolling your eyes, “we have eggs…”, you pointed to her hands holding the eggs, “and milk in the fridge, butter, flour and sugar”, you said counting the ingredients on your fingers, “can you make pancakes for me, please babe?”, you asked with puppy eyes. Powder smiled giving in, “Ok if you want to eat pancakes, you’ll eat pancakes.” You smiled and pecked her lips.

Since you were a disaster at cooking, Powder prepared the batter for the pancakes while you washed and cut the strawberries and raspberries. You two talked about random subjects and laughed when one of you said something too silly. You loved these light and relaxed moments with Powder, she was your best friend and now your girlfriend too and you wanted to keep that forever, you loved each other and no one could take that away from you.

The bar door opened and you both looked up to see Vender walking in. He looked at you two in surprise. “Morning, girls,” he said softly, walking over to you both. “Morning,” you both replied in unison, relaxed. “I didn’t know we hired a new employee,” he said jokingly to you as he approached. You laughed, “nobody cuts strawberries like me, I’m a great professional.” Vender laughed and looked over Powder’s shoulder as she was finishing the pancakes. “And I didn’t know we had pancakes either,” he gave her a soft smile. She pointed in your direction - who was with your back to them finishing the strawberries - making Vender laugh again.

“I met Ekko on the way, he was worried about you Powder, he said he went to the workshop and you didn't want him to come in, he said you seemed a little apprehensive... but I think everything is apparently fine, right?”, he said arranging the drinks for the shift. There was something he wanted to insinuate behind the tone of his voice that made you and Powder exchange awkward glances. “Oh… yeah, it’s okay,” she replied, walking over to you and reaching for the bowl you had placed the cut fruit in. “Ekko is such a chatterbox,” she said in your ear before returning to where she was assembling the pancakes and throwing the strawberries on top of it.

Vender approached Powder and looked at you - who was distracted by putting away the remaining strawberries - he turned to Powder and asked quietly, even though he already knew the answer, "did you talk to her?". Powder looked at him with a silly smile on her lips and nodded. He winked at her and smiled softly, "that's my girl", he patted her on the shoulder before going back to what he was doing.

You finished the pancakes and left some for the old man. The two of you were going to the table, but before you did, Vender said, “Enjoy the pancakes Y/n, an exclusive dish for our special client”. You smiled, “and this is my favorite bar”, the three of you laughed a little and you didn’t notice when Powder looked back giving him an affectionate smile, kind of in gratitude for having given her a “little push”. Maybe if it weren’t for him, the two of you wouldn’t be in this position now.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You grabbed a table and Powder sat next to you as usual. “I forgot something, I’ll be right back baby,” she said, standing up. You took a sip of your coffee and grimaced, realizing that you had forgotten to add sugar. You were going to signal for Powder to bring sugar, but before you could, you felt someone approach you and place their hand on the back of your chair, their fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. “The coffee is really too bitter for a sweetie like you,” you knew that voice, it was Gert. You looked at her, but didn’t know what to say, so she continued, “What happened, beautiful? I haven’t found your pretty face anywhere since my shift ended last night, where have you been?” she asked, looking from your face, to your cleavage and even your legs - exposed where the mini skirt didn’t cover - crossed under the table. Maybe if your hair wasn’t covering it, she would see two or three hickey marks that Powder left on the side of your neck…

part 8 coming soon ✨

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #jinx league of legends #powder arcane #powder x reader #jinx #jinx x you #lesbian #powder x jinx #jinx x fem!reader #jinx smut #jinx lol #powder

140 notes · View notes

he3ts · 23 hours ago

Text

JUST A GAME

squid game / masterlist

pairings: nam gyu x reader

warnings: sex, drugs, unprotected sex, sub nam gyu, manipulation, sex under the influence of drugs, alcohol, toxic relationship, toxic nam gyu. +18

Nam Gyu tossed and turned in bed a thousand times, with a thousand thoughts in his head, your image was the only thing he could see clearly that morning. You were wrapped in the blankets like a bundle, your hair spread on the pillow, and your hands in front of your face. You were finally at peace, looking happy only when you were sleeping peacefully. He breathed hard, turning toward your sleeping figure, grabbed your helpless hand only to join it with his own. How long would that game last? Out and stay. Out and stay. For a thousand times, a thousand encounters, yet to him you still remained an enigma.

You promised yourself that you would be good this time, that the distance from him would be manageable, but it was always like that, it happened a lot. You were always too stoned, drunk and needy to stop. Only in the end you had managed to feel far too much affection for him. He, on the other hand, sought you out only when it was most convenient for him. No one could hurt you more than him. No one could heal you, you said, but the love you felt for him was alive. It burned. And it hurt. All his broken promises just to have you one more night in his bed, what were you after all that time?

Friends? No, friends don't touch each other like that, don't confuse your thoughts, don't kiss until your breath is completely gone. You are not friends. But to him you are like nothing. One in billions. But he wanted you, no woman he saw at the Pentagon gave him the same effect. You were not friends. You were nothing. He was just very good at breaking promises, looking for you when he needed you, or when he promised you at night that he would come back to you, but he didn't come back at all.

He wanted you. But not the way you wanted him. You coveted him as a lover, he used you to vent when everything was too complicated to digest. That morning you looked radiant to him, he had never seen you so serene, in truth, a warm smile carved your cheeks into pretty dimples, your cheeks flushed and your hair messed up. You had not spoken; you had simply looked at him, shifting your eyes to your entwined hands. It all seemed so intimate, so simple, that you almost missed your pulse.

Waking up like that, every morning, was all you aspired to. His black eyes seemed to read your soul too easily, all your weaknesses, all your love you felt for him. He stroked your hair gently, moving an unruly lock away from your face. You remembered little of the other night, everything so blurry and unfocused, Nam Gyu's breath on your neck as you sat on his lap, his arm holding you tightly, possessively, as he made you feel his erection against your bottom in plain sight thanks to the short skirt.

Remember how he had grabbed you by the hips as he put a blue pill in his mouth, remember how he had kissed you by sliding it into your mouth, a hundred times with the kiss deepening and the pill melting under your tongues. He had touched you as always, but now there was the drug consuming you, your body split in half. You could remember nothing but his appearance shrouded in a cloud of smoke.

"I want you."

Then the emptiness. Just him, his room, his hair clinging to your neck and your skin burning. You were lying on the bed, as if paralyzed, as he crushed his head against the pillow rolling the joint. You were twisted in on yourself, his boxers on and his loose shirt traveling straight. He had run his tongue over the edge of the rod a couple of times, then passed it to you. His lips soft and plump. Irresistible. No matter how hard you tried, the feel of his lips on your neck was hard to erase.

You were both drugged, locked in those four walls, your eyes foggy from that joint you had just smoked.

"What's the matter, bunny, can't you do it?"

"Think for yourself," you had whispered before straddling him. Everything was wonderful. Too much so. You still had his cologne on you as you trembled with immense pleasure under him and felt a range of otherworldly sensations inside your body. He kept up the pace so that you came for the thousandth time that same evening. You trembled around him as you moaned into his mouth.

You were not lucid. But it happened a lot. He was so good at using you.

His brown eyes were exhausted, hiding a proud smile, as if he was happy to give himself to you. He didn't want to waste time. But he liked hurting you so much.

You had cried that night because of him.

"Oh, fuck," was your moan as your intimacies collided, and you continued to tighten around him. Aware of your closeness, of his excessive fatigue and your desire to have a little more fun. He had touched the end of your neck several times as you played with his hair and sniffed it like a drug addict. You had whispered his name against his ear, looking at him just below his long, thick lashes.

"You're driving me crazy, you fucking bunny," his voice grew lower and lower, but he didn't want to scare you. Your legs trembled so overwhelmingly that you leaned them against his hips to draw him more to your body. He had paused briefly, playing with the strands of your hair as if to soothe you.

You were so close. So close. It was heaven.

When the storm of your orgasm began to fade, only a gracious smile was born on your face. Finally he was there, again, to hurt you.

You used to remember. But you still remembered too little. For after this he had fallen onto your body and then rolled onto his side. He looked so beautiful when he was asleep, so at peace, you had barely sighed before resting your lips on his in his drowsiness.

"What are you doing?" he gasped into the gentle kiss you had granted him.

"I'm kissing you"

"Why do you persist in loving me?" maybe it was the pill, or maybe he really was the main problem. He turned his back to you too quickly, you were still shaken, your thighs shaking and the smile that had now faded from your face.

You don't want to remember. Now. Nam Gyu got out of bed without making a sound, leaving you there, wrapped in the sheets soaked in his scent, your skin still warm from the marks he had left on you. The mattress sagged slightly as he moved away, and for a moment you had felt the emptiness at your side, as if it had only been an illusion, a blurry dream amid alcohol, smoke, and stifled moans.

You reached out a hand into the darkness, seeking the warmth of his body. Finding only the cold of rumpled sheets. Your heart clenched in your chest. He had left you once again. And you, once again, had believed he could be different.

You had stood staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the burning inside you. Each time it was the same thing. He would take you, consume you, and then pull away, as if it had been just another meaningless night. But when he used you like that, he made you feel loved. Cursedly loved.

You had pulled yourself up with difficulty, your legs still soft, your head turning slightly. His shirt slid wide over your bare shoulders, the fabric impregnated with his scent. You ran a hand through your shaggy hair, trying to tidy your thoughts, but it was no use. The night blurred in your mind like a vortex of pleasure and regret.

You could hear him, he was in the kitchen, the sound of the gas on, the clink of a spoon against the cup. The scent of coffee wafted through the air, familiar and painful. You had dragged yourself out of the room, barefoot on the cold floor, then leaned against the doorframe.

He was there, his hair still tousled, his chest bare, his boxers pulled down slightly on his hips. He was pouring his coffee with his usual calmness, his shoulders tense, his gaze not even dignifying you with a glance. As if you had never existed. As if he had not spent the night inside you, whispering against your skin things that now seemed to have evaporated into the air.

You wet your dry lips before speaking.

"Are you leaving without saying anything?" Your voice was scratchy, hoarse, still marked by the night.

Nam Gyu had not looked up, bringing the cup to his lips, blowing softly. "What good would it do to say anything?"

Your stomach clenched. Always like this. Always fucking like this. You had moved closer, crossing your arms over your chest. "So what? Are you again the usual asshole who fucks and then pretends nothing happened?"

He finally looked at you. His eyes were cold, inscrutable. "I never promised you anything"

You knew. But hearing him say it like that still broke you.

"That's strange, because last night it seemed like you were doing something else entirely"

He laughed softly, bitterly. "Last night we were high. It's different"

You had paused, for your own sake, feeling your hands clench into fists along your sides. "No, it's not different, Nam Gyu. Not for me"

He stiffened, his fingers drumming against the cup. "Then whose fault is it?"

You were out of breath, for a second, no longer knowing how to breathe. "Mine?"

He shrugged, taking another sip of coffee. "You're still here, aren't you?"

That sentence had been the straw. You had reached out, grabbing his arm to force him to really look at you. "And why are you always looking for me? Why can't you let me go!"

The cup slammed against the piano with a dull sound. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched, his hair messed up, "I don't want to let you go. But I don't want what you want either"

Your hands were shaking. "Then what the fuck do you want from me, Nam Gyu?"

Silence.

A heavy silence, laden with everything you never said.

Then he flinched, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He took a long drag, exhaled the smoke without looking at you.

"I don't know"

You felt you lacked air, your throat tightened in a vice. He was always like that. Always hovering between yes and no, between desire and rejection. You couldn't take it anymore. "You're a coward," you had breathed out, your voice trembling with anger and pain.

He laughed, a sound devoid of joy. "Maybe"

You had shifted out of the way, grabbing the still-warm cup and throwing it against the wall. The sound of shattering pottery filled the air. Nam Gyu did not move, did not even flinch.

"Tell me you don't want me anymore and I'll leave," you were challenging him, your eyes glazed over, your breath broken. He turned toward you, cigarette smoke enveloping his face, his gaze steady. "I can't"

You felt yourself breaking down.

It was a vicious cycle. An endless game.

You had dropped into the chair, your head in your hands. "Then you're an even worse bastard than I thought"

Nam Gyu put out his cigarette in the sink, then ran a hand through his hair. "I know, bunny"

You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the frustration that exploded in your chest like a hurricane. He was there, standing in front of you, with that air of someone who won't let anything get to him, someone who is in control of everything, even you. And that was driving you crazy.

"If you know that, why do you keep doing this to me?" your voice cracked, but you didn't want to cry. Not in front of him.

Nam Gyu huffed, ran a hand through his shaggy hair, and shook his head. "I'm not doing anything to you"

"You're not doing anything to me?!" you had exploded, and with you your anger, your hands moving instinctively against his bare chest, pushing him hard. "You want me. You seek me out. You destroy me. And then you pretend not to. If that's not doing something to me, then tell me what the fuck it is!"

He barely staggered, but did not move. He looked down at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, his dark eyes burning with emotions he did not want to admit.

"I can't give you what you want." Another stab. You felt yourself sinking.

"Then let me go," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "If you can't give me what I want, let me go"

Nam Gyu had remained silent, his breathing barely heavier. He wasn't going to do that. You knew. He never would.

You stared at him, anger mixing with the pain, the nights spent longing for him, the mornings like that when you were left with emptiness between the sheets and a broken heart. And he was still fucking there, without an answer, without an ounce of shame.

"Tell me you don't care about me. Look me in the eye and tell me"

He didn't. He never did.

On the contrary, he had taken a step toward you, his chest brushing against yours, his warmth enveloping you like a flame too close. "You don't understand," he whispered, his voice low, scratchy, charged with something he didn't want to say out loud.

You burst out laughing, a bitter, desperate laugh. "I don't understand?! I love you, Nam Gyu! l-"

Not let you finish.

His hands tightened around your face and his mouth crashed against yours violently. A brutal, hungry kiss, filled with anger and frustration. It was not sweet, it was not gentle. It was a confrontation, a desperate need.

You clung to his shoulders, nails sinking into warm skin as he pushed you back, not breaking the kiss, not giving you time to think. He grabbed you by the hips with the strength of someone who did not want to let you go, and you hated him for it. You hated the way his body stuck to yours, the way his tongue explored your mouth as if it were his own.

You crashed against the couch as he pushed himself down unceremoniously, pulling your body to sit astride him.

"Nam Gyu-" kiss, "Please." kiss.

"That's not enough, baby. Let me hear your voice," he lowered his lips to the level of your sensitive ear; he was a very good actor, becoming dominant just to manipulate you and get whatever he wanted. He had lightly bitten your ear after saying this, as you tried to hide your beautiful face even more, ending up in the crook of his neck.

"I need you," an almost inaudible whisper was heard in the room, muffled further by the proximity of your lips on his neck. He felt your panties getting wetter by the minute.

"Where?" He continued with that torture, he wanted to rip the words out of your mouth, he had no intention of stopping, common sense had overwhelmed reason. You had to talk, with him, express your desires.

"Inside me" you had put even more force on his grip, moving your face to look at his lips voraciously, but he had no intention of kissing you now. He wanted to do it gently, the one he so lacked. At his words one of your hands slid to his boxers.

Your bodies intertwined in the darkness of the room, skin against skin, heat against heat, with no more room for modesty or control. It was a perverse game, a visceral need that renewed itself every time your hands found each other, your lips colliding in kisses too greedy to be sweet.

Your clothes were already strewn on the floor, as forgotten as the promises you had never made to each other. His fingers traced paths over your skin, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of you, as your breath broke against his neck. His muscles tensed under your hands, his chest rising and falling heavily as desire grew between you, insatiable, inevitable.

He held you against him, making you shudder as his throbbing member brushed against your opening, teasing you with slow, studied movements, as if he wanted to hear you beg. And you, damn it, were already there, ready to give in, ready to let him destroy you once more.

"May I?" you had asked, looking deeply into his eyes, a mixture similar to bitter coffee. You were looking for a signal from him. He felt his belly explode from the sensation, his head thrown back as you touched his light abs to his navel. He penetrated you very slowly, forced to suppress a moan, biting his lower lip fiercely. You both gasped as he entered you completely.

"Bunny" grabbed your hips, throwing your head between the pillows as you began to jump on his cock like a mad mare, your breasts in the wind and his footprints marking the flesh of your damn soft hips.

You had begun to move back and forth very slowly and quietly, not really picking up a rhythm.

Moving your hips, you had picked up a rhythm that was not too fast but sustained, making Nam Gyu moan even louder, "shhh" you had whispered in his ear, that hiss broken in turn by a few moans. You were no better off. Yours, at that point, sounded more like cries coming out of your mouth, moans combined with whimpers. The friction between your two bodies was driving him crazy; he was as if drugged by the sensation. You had rested your head against his chest, moaning pathetically, while your hips gave no hint of decay.

His words kept reaching you like a distant echo, "You are so good," he begged your voice in a way so deep that it only made him moan more, and for a moment he stopped breathing on his own, "You need to ride me more often"

In response you had breathed hard, wrapping your lips lower toward his Adam's apple. Your legs rubbed against his, making little jumps to increase your shared pleasure.

"You don't want to stop now, little girl, do you?" He had said hoarsely in your ear. His cock moved a little to the left, hitting a particular spot, a scream ripped your chest in two. "How beautiful you are," your forehead on his shoulder, he played with your breast, taking it with his large hand.

"Oh, fuck," you had screamed, digging your nails into his shoulders as you flexed on his body as if you were dying.

"What, you want me to stop?"

"Don't! Don't. Please. Don't ever stop," you had closed more against him, pinning your legs against his stomach.

Fuck.

You were almost at your limit. You had gasped as you felt his cock react inside you, as he took you by the hips so he could get out.

"Can you finish inside me?" you had gasped with a puppy face, grabbing his hands to move them from your hips and rest them on your breasts.

"Are you sure?" he had asked, but you had kissed him again, with overwhelming eagerness, grabbing his dark locks.

"Please, just this once"

"Just this once, bunny"

Your muscles stiffened and his cock twitched repeatedly, then a gentle kiss on your neck as he released himself completely inside you. He had taken your face only to kiss you one more time; you were shaken, confused. The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Both of you were too tired to talk, but not tired enough not to feel the emptiness between you. Your bodies were still warm, but the contact no longer felt the same, as if everything that had brought you together had vanished along with the tension that had dissipated. Every breath seemed heavy.

He was not looking at you. He had moved slowly, as if the slightest movement was an unbearable effort, and had taken the cigarette from the pack on the table beside the bed. The smoke rose, dancing in the air like a fog that separated them, like a barrier between his world and yours. You watched him in silence as the room seemed to grow smaller and smaller, your thoughts more confused. The adrenaline you had been feeling was slowly fading, giving way to a feeling of emptiness. The feeling that had always haunted you.

All that passion, that irrepressible desire, in the end had never been anything but an illusion. Maybe that was what hurt you. The fact that, each time, you felt involved, overwhelmed, but always for a reason you could not understand. What about Nam Gyu? He was the same as always. Nothing more. Yet, each time, you thought he would be different. But it had never been.

He had said nothing as he watched you arrange your clothes. He merely looked at you, but not with the intensity of before. The one that made you feel like you were the most important thing, the most desired. Now there was only distance.

"Tell me this is the last time," you had said, your voice low, broken by a restlessness you could no longer hide.

"We can't stop," he had replied simply, his voice flat, devoid of emotion.

You knew. Very well.

MASTERLIST.

#nam gyu x reader #nam gyu x you #nam gyu #player 124 #player 124 x reader #squid game #squid game x reader #smut #nam gyu smut #namgyu fanfic #squid game season 2 #roh jae won

127 notes · View notes

blurry-lock · 2 days ago

Text

BIKER! SHIDOU RYUSEI x FEM! READER

　　⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Hi! so first of all, this is my first fic so be patient with me lol, sorry if it's a little out of character, it's pretty cliche and boring, but i'll try to get better i promise! hope you like this.

You were now escaping from a date you didn’t even want to go. Your parents suggested (forced) you to go on a date with the son of your mother’s best friend, she wanted the cliche of her daughter falling in love with her best friend’s son so badly.

Yeah, the guy was nice and he was somewhat a friend of yours, but he was just a boring good guy, no thrill, no emotion. You wanted adventures, maybe break the rules one time or two, he just wasn’t your type.

As you tried to hide from him, walking on the streets you heard the sound of an engine roaring, you glanced at the direction of the sound. A bike stopping besides you, the head of the driver covered from the helmet he was using dressed in all black, wearing a typical leather jacket.

The guy took his helmet off revealing a tanned skinned guy with eyebrow and lip piercings, blond hair and pink ends, his eyes were cat-like and pink. Quite a mesmerizing view, you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off him.

“Hey~ you look like you need help.” He said smirking as he leaned on the bike handles. “Want a ride?”

You were tempted. The thrill, the adventures you’ve been waiting since forever were there, it was dangerous, accepting an invitation from a stranger, but your gut was telling you say yes, to let go for once.

“Sure.” You said as you smiled widely and walked over to him.

He chuckled slightly and helped you hope on the bike. “Safety’s first~” He said smoothly as he put the helmet over your head. “Ready?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder as he turned on the bike.

You wrapped your arms around his waist very tight and nodded, already feeling nervous and asking yourself if this was a good idea.

He smirked and turned his gaze to the road ahead, the engine of the bike roaring to life. “Name’s Shidou Ryusei, by the way.” He said before driving off at full speed.

You gasped at the sudden burst of the bike, the cold air and adrenaline running through your body as you gripped him tighter. He shot a quick glance at you as he drove swiftly through the streets, passing the traffic as it was no big deal.

“Scared?” He shouted teasingly as he took a quick turn, almost feeling as if you were going to fall to the concrete. You held onto him as your life depended on it. The cold air of the night and the lights melting into a blur as he kept driving fast, it seemed that he was enjoying your company as a passenger, maybe he want to make this an often occurrence with you, you definitely caught his interest. He always likes the freedom that came with riding his bike, it was like no one could catch him and he could do whatever he wanted.

Eventually Shidou came to a stop and glanced at you over his shoulder with an amused look. “You can let to now, you know.” He chuckled as you were still gripping him tightly.

You shyly pulled away and took off the helmet. “That was…” You let out a soft sigh as you couldn’t even put into words how freeing and amusing the ride felt, it was something you never done before. The adrenaline still running down your body you felt your cheeks gettin warm.

“Amazing? The best day of your life?” He said with his signature cocky smirk.

“Yeah, kinda.” You chuckled slightly as you looked at him, admiring his features. He’s pretty hot you think. “You do this often?”

“It’s not everyday I encounter a pretty lady seeking for help to be honest.” He teased, his smirk widening. “You never told me your name, pretty.”

His flirting was generic and simple, but something about him made you want to fall for everything he said, he was very intriguing. “Oh, right. My name’s (y/n).” You answered as you felt a subtle blush covering your cheeks, mentally cursing yourself for getting flustered so easy.

He smiled at the sound of your name, repeating it in his head and engraving it in his memory; he definitely liked the sound of your name. “Want another ride home sweetheart?”

You smiled and nodded as you give him directions, then putting the helmet again. “Hold on tight, i’ll go even faster this time~” He smirked and turned on the engine and you quickly wrapped your arms around his waist again.

He chuckled slightly and drove away, he wasn’t kidding, he was driving even faster. He moved swiftly through the streets and you held onto him, impressed by his skills. The cold air sending chills down your spine or maybe it was more than just the air causing your chills.

He slowed down as he arrived at your house until the bike was completely still. He sighed and helped you get off the bike. “Looks like our little date came to and end, huh?” He pouted teasingly as he stared down at you.

“Date? I barely know you Mr. Biker” You chuckled slightly and crossed your arms.

“And you accepted a ride from a stranger without hesitation, didn’t ya?” He smirked, slightly leaning his head closer to you.

You sighed and nodded in defeat as he was obviously right, you didn’t even know what got into you when you accepted the ride, but you didn’t regret it honestly. “How about we have a proper date?” You suggested, tilting you head, hoping and praying he will accept.

“Proper date? You didn’t like the ride sweetheart?” He feigned sadness as he leaned against his bike.

You rolled your eyes. “What i mean is, having another fun date like this and get to know each other better.”

He smirked and stared down at you with his sharp pink eyes. “Sounds good~ tho… I don’t need to know you to be sure I really like you, sweetheart.”

There he goes again, shamelessly flirting, but you couldn’t resist it, there was something about him and you couldn’t help but smile and fall for his charms. It didn’t matter in that moment, this was more fun than your boring life anyway.

The end!! I know it’s pretty lame 😭 but hey! Its my first time posting, sorry if there are any grammar errors English is not my first language.

Anyway, hope you like it and stay tuned if I write more short fics!!

#blue lock x reader #blue lock #shidou ryusei #bllk shidou #shidou ryuusei x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou x reader #ryusei shidou #ryusei shido x reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk x y/n #blue lock x female reader #blue lock shidou

60 notes · View notes

dae-chwiita · 3 days ago

Text

Wrecked and found

Pairing : reader x ranchowner!Hongjoong

Summary : One morning, you pick a bag, your car keys and take the road, wanting to get far from the life you've built, needing to get away from your breakup as you can. You come back to reality the moment your car crashes on the side of an unknown road in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, a cowboy was on a walk right where you are.

Warnings : mention of breakup, being unsatisfied with life, slow burn but also quick time wise? Pure romance and kinda long lol mb

A/N : so the cliche country trope BUT, I really wanted to do it and nobody could have stopped me. Also spent a lot of the fic describing things, really wanting to put an ambiance so if you want solely romance not the best place, especially since its a slow burn oopsi but the romance is good and sweet !NOT PROOFREAD!

---

You didn’t expect your car to break down in the middle of nowhere. Not when you’d been pushing it as hard as you had, the old rental grumbling with every mile. The car wasn’t built for this kind of journey, and truthfully, neither were you. But that didn’t stop you from throwing everything you had—what little of it there was left—into the backseat and leaving the city behind with your whole life still there. It had been an impulse decision, fueled by heartbreak and the suffocating walls of your empty apartment. The breakup wasn’t fresh, but the sting of it hadn’t dulled. You’d spent weeks pacing the same cramped space, surrounded by the detritus of a relationship you didn’t know how to pack away. You’d been desperate to escape, to outrun the memories that clung to you like smoke.

So, one morning, you did.

There was no plan. You’d tossed a duffel bag together with a few essentials—clothes, toiletries, a water bottle, and an old dusty road atlas you found buried in a drawer. You didn’t even pack food, there wasn’t time to think, not with the buzzing anxiety driving you forward. You left your phone charger behind, too, though you wouldn’t realize that until hours later when your battery died somewhere on the open road...You’d driven west, or at least you thought it was west, the sun was your only guide as you fled the city limits and plunged into the countryside. At first, it felt exhilarating—freedom in its rawest form. The highway stretched endlessly before you, flanked by rolling hills and wide, open fields. It was the kind of scenery you’d only ever seen in movies, and for a while, it was enough to distract you from the gnawing ache in your chest. But as the miles piled up, so did the doubts; you hadn’t thought this through. You had no destination, no safety net, the money in your wallet wouldn’t last long and you didn’t even know where you’d sleep tonight. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d figure it out as you went, but as the hours dragged on and the car sputtered ominously beneath you, the weight of your choices pressed down hard. By the time the engine gave out, you’d been driving for what felt like an eternity. The road you were on wasn’t even marked on the atlas, a desolate stretch of cracked pavement cutting through an ocean of dry grass. The sun was a merciless glare overhead, beating down on the hood as you rolled to a stop, the noise of the car breaking almost mocking you. Smoke billowed from the engine, and you cursed under your breath, slamming the steering wheel. You popped the hood, but the sight beneath it offered no answers—just a mess of metal and wires that meant nothing to you.

Great. Just great.

You glanced around, hoping for some sign of civilization, but there was nothing. No houses, no gas stations, not even a distant power line, just the endless expanse of golden fields and the occasional tumbleweed bouncing lazily across the road. The realization hit you all at once: you were stranded. Alone, with no phone, no charger, and no idea where you were. The panic crept in slowly as you came out of your frenzy, tightening your chest and making your hands tremble as you leaned against the now useless car. What now? You didn’t have a backup plan, you didn’t even have a place to go back to ! You’d left everything behind in your frantic need to escape, and now you were paying the price. Every serial killers cases start like this; with a stranded lost young woman in the middle a desolated road. It wasn’t just the breakup that had driven you to this point, it was everything—the job you hated, the friendships that felt hollow, the sense that you were stuck in a life that wasn’t yours. Leaving had felt like the only option, a way to reclaim some control of your own life. But now, standing on the side of the road with the sun beating down on you, all you felt was foolish for leaving your comfort. You didn’t cry, though, you wanted to—you could feel the tears threatening, burning behind your eyes—but you forced them back. Crying wouldn’t help. You had to figure something out.

That’s when you saw him.

He rode up on a chestnut colored horse, the kind of sight you’d expect to see in a movie rather than real life. His dark brown cowboy hat was tilted low, shielding his eyes from yours, but you could feel his gaze on you as he approached. The fringed leather jacket and worn boots covered with dried mud were straight out of a western, yet there was something effortlessly modern about him. He reined his horse to a stop a few feet away, dust kicking up around him, and you swore the sun flared brighter just to frame him perfectly.

“You lost?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

You blinked, trying to process the sheer magnetism of the man in front of you. “Uh, more like broken down.” You gestured to your smoking car with a weak, tired laugh.

His eyes flicked to the vehicle, then back to you. He lifted his nose a little, finally showing you his dark eyes. They were sharp, assessing, but not unkind.

“You’re lucky I came by." He said, titling his head to the side. "Not many folks out here this time of day.”

You tried not to stare as he dismounted with a practiced ease, his boots crunching against the gravel. He was smaller in stature than you expected, given how tall the horse made him look, but he carried himself with an air of authority that made him seem larger than moutains. His hair, a deep dark brown, peeked out from beneath his hat, and his sun-kissed skin glowed in the harsh light.

“I’m Hongjoong,” he said, offering a gloved hand. “I own the ranch just a mile up the road. Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”

You smiled, relaxing your shoulders. "Thank you, really."

---

You didn’t expect to end up at his ranch, but Hongjoong had insisted your car wouldn’t make it anywhere until morning so it came naturally to offer you to stay at his ranch until then. His property was sprawling, acres upon acres of open land dotted with grazing cattle, a barn that looked as old as time and a modest but charming farmhouse perched on a hill. The air smelled of hay and sun-warmed earth, and the sound of horses and cows nickering greeted you as he led you past the stables. He explained, in his calm and deliberate way, that he’d call the local mechanic in town first thing tomorrow. For now, you were his guest. You felt out of place among the rugged charm of the ranch, your then white city-worn sneakers kicking up dust as you trailed behind him. But Hongjoong? He moved like he belonged here, like he was part of the land itself. He guided you across every corner of his land, and you were struck by how expansive it truly was. What you thought might take an hour stretched into the better part of the afternoon, but you didn’t mind. With every turn, Hongjoong revealed something new: a crystal-clear creek winding its way through a cluster of trees, the wildflowers that painted the meadows in vibrant swathes, and the rolling hills that seemed to stretch endlessly into the horizon. You followed him without question, each new sight leaving you in quiet awe. There was a serenity here that you’d never felt before, it felt almost surreal, as if your car breaking down had been less an accident and more a deliberate push into some kind of hidden paradise. That feeling lingered even as the sun began its slow descent, casting the ranch in warm golden light. When Hongjoong finally led you back to the house, you felt a pang of reluctance, as though you weren’t quite ready to leave the perfection of the outdoors behind. Inside, he insisted you sit at the modest dining table while he prepared dinner. The smell of sizzling meat and fresh vegetables soon filled the air, making your stomach growl in anticipation. You sat at the table, chin resting on your hand as you watched him move around the kitchen. His movements were fluid and precise, like he belonged in this space as much as he did out on the ranch. The way his fingers worked deftly to chop vegetables, the soft hum of concentration in his throat, the quiet clink of utensils against the pan—it all felt oddly intimate. The golden light from the setting sun streamed through the window, catching the sharp line of his jaw and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, his forearms, now visible since he took his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves, flexing with every movement. He looked almost unreal, like he’d stepped out of a dream, and yet here he was, cooking for you with such easy kindness as if he knew you for months. Your chest tightened at the thought; how could someone so effortlessly handsome, so gentle and kind, be real?

When he set the plate before you, the first bite was enough to make you pause. The flavors were rich and vibrant, the kind of freshness you’d only ever heard about but never tasted.

“This is amazing!” you murmured between bites, your voice thick with genuine appreciation.

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched you eat.

“Glad you like it.” he said simply, his tone carrying just a hint of pride.

You didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered on you—how he seemed amused and charmed by the soft sighs of satisfaction that escaped you as you worked through the meal. For you, everything about the moment felt perfect, from the taste and smell of the food to the warmth of his quiet company. When dinner was done, he led you to the room you’d be staying in for the night. The cozy space was simple but welcoming, with soft lamplight illuminating the carefully made bed. Your bag was already there, placed neatly by the door.

“You’ll be comfortable here.” Hongjoong said, his voice low but warm. "It's been long since someone slept in here tho, might be dusty."

"It's ok, really." You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Thank you. For everything.”

He dipped his head slightly in response, hiding his face with the front of his hat, before stepping back, his presence leaving a quiet stillness in the room. As soon as you lay on the bed, a deep, contented sigh escaped your lips. Your eyelids grew heavy almost immediately, and before you could even process the day, exhaustion took hold. You drifted off to sleep, the last thing on your mind being the image of the man who had turned what should have been a disaster into something extraordinary.

---

You woke up to the sound of birdsong and the faint, rhythmic clinking of metal tools outside the guest room window. The bed beneath you was firm but comfortable, a far cry from the lumpy motel mattress you’d imagined you’d end up on when you’d left the city. The room was simple, with whitewashed walls and wooden furniture that seemed lovingly handcrafted. The window framed a picturesque view of the ranch, with golden fields stretching as far as the eye could see. You got up as you rubbed your eyesn walking towards the window to investigate what was making such a noise. You spotted Hongjoong by the barn, his figure silhouetted against the morning sun as he hoisted a bale of hay with an ease that made you wonder just how strong he really was. You didn’t feel right about staying here and doing nothing, he’d already done more than enough, taking in a complete stranger without hesitation. The least you could do was help. You quickly took the change of clothes neatly put on the desk, getting out of yesterday's clothes before heading out of the room. When you made your way to the barn, the fresh air of nature caressing you as gently as the sun while he glanced up, his sharp eyes softening slightly when they landed on you.

“Mornin'.” he said, wiping a gloved hand across his brow. His voice was rough from sleep, but it held a warmth that made your stomach flutter.

“Morning!” you replied, fidgeting with the hem of your borrowed button up shirt—one of his, which hung loose on your frame.

Hongjoong cleared his throat softly.

“I talked to the mechanic in town,” he said, his voice steady but careful, as if gauging your reaction. “Your car will be ready in a few days.”

You nodded slowly, the words settling over you like a weight. A few days. That was all the time you had left here.

“Thank you.” you murmured, your voice quieter than you intended.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his eyes unreadable under the shadow of his hat. “Don’t mention it.”

You sighed, looking around before looking at him again, closing an eye to shield it from the rising sun.

“Need any help?” You asked, smiling warmly.

"Help?" Hongjoong arched a brow, clearly skeptical. "With what?"

You gestured to the bales of hay stacked neatly behind him.

“Anything. I feel bad just sitting around while you’re doing all the work.”

His lips quirked into a lopsided smile, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything. You’re a guest.”

“Then let me earn my stay.” you insisted, crossing your arms. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

"“Alrigh", city girl." He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Let’s see what you’ve got."

You regretted your bravado almost immediately.

Hongjoong handed you a pitchfork and showed you how to spread fresh hay in the stalls. It seemed simple enough, but after the third stall, your arms were already aching. Sweat trickled down your back, and your sneakers—already caked in dust from yesterday—slipped on the uneven barn floor. Hongjoong didn’t say much, but you caught him watching you out of the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable.

“Am I doing this right?” you asked, pausing to wipe your forehead, anxious about his staring.

He stepped closer, his boots crunching against the hay. Without a word, he took the pitchfork from your hands, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment.

“Like this.” he said, demonstrating the proper technique. His movements were fluid, precise.

Then, to your surprise, he stepped behind you, guiding your hands back to the pitchfork. His chest was close enough that you could feel the faint heat radiating off him, his voice right at your ear.

“Keep your grip firm,” he murmured, his warm calloused hands adjusting yours gently.

Your breath hitched, the proximity sending your thoughts into a whirlwind. You could barely focus on his instructions, the closeness of him sparking something unfamiliar in your chest—a nervous flutter mixed with a warmth you hadn’t felt in ages.

“See?” he said, his tone soft as his hands lingered just a moment longer before stepping back. “Not so hard, right?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, your voice lost somewhere in the haze of nerves and something undeniably new. It took a few tries, and a lot of calming your heart, but you eventually found a rhythm.

“Not bad...” he said, leaning against the stall door. “For a beginner.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Thanks, I think.”

By midday, you were exhausted but strangely satisfied. Hongjoong had taken over the heavier tasks, like lifting the hay bales, but he let you help with feeding the horses and mucking out the stalls.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” he said as the two of you sat on the porch steps, sipping glasses of cold water he’d brought out.

“I wanted to!” you replied, staring out at the fields. “It feels good to actually… do something.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “You did good today.”

The compliment warmed you more than the sun ever could.

---

The second day began much the same as the first, but this time, you were ready.

You joined Hongjoong outside with the same button up he landed you the day before just as he was saddling up one of the horses, a sleek orange like mare he introduced as Grami. She was a beautiful creature, her coat shimmering in the early morning light.

“You’re up early.” he remarked, adjusting the saddle.

“I figured I’d save you the trouble of convincing me to help again.” you teased, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Fair enough. Think you’re ready to meet the rest of the ranch?”

You blinked. “There’s more?”

"A lot more." He nodded, leading Grami out of the stable. "The cattle are grazing out in the north pasture. Thought I’d check on them today. You’re welcome to tag along."

“On foot?” you asked, eyeing the distance he gestured toward.

"On horseback." he corrected, giving you a knowing look. "We’ll take Grami."

You blinked. “Both of us? On the same horse?”

He shrugged, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Unless you want to walk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the playful glint in his gaze made it impossible to argue.

“Fine.” you muttered, trying to ignore the way your heart thudded at the thought of being so close to him.

Hongjoong swung up into the saddle first, moving with a practiced ease that made you momentarily envious.

“Come on city girl.” he said, reaching a gloved hand down to you.

You hesitated for only a second before placing your hand in his. His grip was firm and steady, effortlessly pulling you up behind him.

“Hold on.” he said, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You swallowed hard and wrapped your arms around his suprisingly tiny waist, your fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt. You felt the warmth of his back pressed against you as you tried to focus on anything else—the soft sway of Grami’s movement beneath you, the sound of the horse’s hooves on the dirt path, the gentle rustling of the wind in the grass, the faint sound of water flowing far away. The ride to the north pasture felt like it stretched on forever, but you didn’t mind. Hongjoong’s presence was steady and grounding, even as your thoughts kept drifting to the closeness of him and his comforting warmth.

“You alright back there?” he asked, his voice breaking the silence.

“Yeah!” you said quickly, hoping he couldn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice as you got out of your daze.

Grami carried you both through a sunlit meadow, the scent of wildflowers hanging heavy in the air. The moment felt oddly intimate, and for a brief second, you let yourself relax against him, your cheek almost brushing his shoulder. When you reached the pasture, Hongjoong dismounted first and turned to help you down. His hands found your waist as he guided you to the ground, the touch brief but enough to leave your skin tingling.

“Thanks...” you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you smoothed your shirt.

The rest of the day unfolded much like the first, with Hongjoong showing you how to check the fences and tend to the cattle. He was patient as always, his quiet explanations punctuated by moments of comfortable silence.

---

By the time you returned to the farmhouse, the sun was dipping low in the sky, painting the horizon in fiery shades of orange and pink. As you sat down to dinner, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him across the table, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the kitchen light. There was something about him—his quiet confidence, his kindness, the way he carried the weight of the ranch without complaint—that made it hard to look away. You felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the food or the cozy farmhouse and as you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly where you were meant to be.

This place, this man… it was starting to feel like something you didn’t want to leave behind.

---

The days passed in a blur.

One day turned into two, then three, as the mechanic faced delay after delay. You couldn’t be upset, though, not when Hongjoong was… well, Hongjoong. He was kind but guarded, the kind of man who said more with his actions than his words, he’d hand you a glass of fresh juice after a particularly hot afternoon without a word, or fix the loose porch step you slipped on two times. He’d taken to showing you around the ranch in the mornings. It started small: a walk to the stables, a brief introduction to the horses but over time, he seemed to open up. He’d tell you about the ranch’s history, about how it had been in his family for generations.

“Most people don’t want this kind of life anymore.” he said one evening, leaning against the fence as the sun dipped below the horizon. “It’s not glamorous. It’s hard work, and it can get lonely.”

You watched him as he spoke, his profile illuminated by the golden light. There was a wistfulness in his voice that made your chest ache.

“I don’t think it’s lonely.” you said softly.

He turned to you, brows furrowing slightly. “No?”

"You’ve got the land, the animals…" You shrugged, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. "It feels peaceful. I would say it's a good kind of lonely."

Hongjoong didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you in that moment made your heart stutter.

You weren’t sure when the shift happened.

Maybe it was the way his hand brushed yours when he handed you a tool while fixing the barn door. Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered just a little too long when you laughed. Or maybe it was the fourth night when you’d joined him on the porch after dinner, the stars stretching endlessly above you as he played a soft tune on his guitar while you hummed to the unfamiliar tune as he stared at you, like he so often did. He’d asked you about your life, your dreams, your fears. And you’d told him everything, surprising even yourself with how easy it was to talk to him. From moving to the city for your ex, leaving your family and close friends behind to the breakup and you deciding to leave everything again but, this time, for yourself.

“You’ve got a brave heart.” he said quietly, his fingers stilling on the strings.

"Brave?" You laughed, the sound tinged with disbelief. "I’ve been running away from my problems for months."

He shook his head, his gaze intense. "You’re here, aren’t you? Sometimes that’s the bravest thing you can do—just show up somewhere unknown."

It was slow, this thing between you.

A stolen glance here, a fleeting touch there. The way he’d smile when he caught you watching him, or the way his voice softened when he said your name. You found yourself lingering in his orbit, drawn to him in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. And Hongjoong? He seemed to feel it too but he held back more than you did, always keeping a careful distance, like he was afraid of what might happen if he let himself fall, watching you from afar seemed enough for him. The night it all came to an end, the fifth one, was one you’d never forget.

---

A storm had rolled in, sudden and fierce, forcing you and Hongjoong to rush through the downpour to secure the horses. Now, trapped in the barn, the rain hammered against the roof in relentless waves. You huddled together in the corner, both drenched to the bone, your breath mingling in the chill air. A new button-up shirt he'd lent you clung to your skin, his scent faint but unmistakable on the fabric, a cruel reminder of just how close he felt yet how far away he always seemed. He’d been nothing but kind—steadfast, patient, even protective—but there was a wall around him, one you couldn’t seem to scale no matter how much you tried. Every time you thought you might be breaking through, he’d pull away, his quiet reserve leaving you aching with questions you didn’t dare ask. You turned your head slightly, catching the profile of his face as he nervously watched the storm, his jaw was set, his brows furrowed in thought, and you couldn’t stop the longing that twisted in your chest. Why did he have to be so careful with you, so distant? The words escaped before you could stop them.

“Why do you do this?”

Your voice was barely audible over the storm, but he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.

“Do what?”

“Push people away.” you said, your heart pounding as you catch your breath. “I can see it, Hongjoong. You’re afraid of letting me get close.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might brush you off. But then he sighed, running a hand through his damp hair.

“It’s not that simple.” he said quietly. “This life… it’s not easy. I’ve lost people before, I don’t want to go through that again.”

"But what if you don’t have to lose them?" You reached for his hand without thinking, the warmth of it surprising you. "What if they stay?"

He looked at your joined hands, then back at you, and you saw something shift in his eyes, now so visible without his hat in the way.

"I don’t want to lose you." he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Since you've been here, everything feel perfect, like the missing piece, and I don't want to get used to it only to loose it."

Your breath caught, and for a moment, the storm outside was nothing but a distant hum.

“You won’t.” you said, your voice steady despite the chaos in your chest.

His lips parted, but no answer came right away. The seconds stretched, his silence only making your chest tighten more.

“I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep-” he said finally, his voice thick with something unspoken.

“You won’t.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air between you, raw and fragile. You bit your lip, steadying your breath as you searched for the courage to say what you’d been holding in for days, your head spinning with how quick everything was going.

"For the first time in a long time, I feel like my life is… right. Like it means something." You took a shaky breath, holding his hand tighter. "Maybe it’s just the change—everything so different and new—but I don’t care if it’s an illusion. I want to try, and I want it to be with you. But only if you’re willing to try too."

Hongjoong’s gaze softened, the storm outside and the noise of the horses seeming to fade. Slowly, he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on yours as his wet hair fell in front of his face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” you breathed, the word tumbling out before he could even finish the question. “Please. Finally.”

His lips were on yours before the last syllable left your mouth. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as though he was still convincing himself you were real. But when your hands slid up to his drenched shoulders, pulling him closer, something shifted. His fingers tangled in your damp hair, his other hand finding the curve of your waist as the kiss deepened, the warmth of him chasing away the cold that clung to your skin. The warmth of his hands seeped through the damp fabric of the shirt, anchoring you to the moment. His touch wasn’t hurried; it was deliberate, like he was savoring every second, every sensation. Your fingers curled into the material of his shirt, clinging to him as if letting go might shatter the fragile, electric connection between you. His lips moved against yours, gentle yet insistent, and you felt every ounce of his hesitation melt away. The storm outside was relentless, but it only seemed to heighten the intensity inside the barn, the roar of the rain a distant hum compared to the wild beat of your heart. When he pulled back for air, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and uneven on your cold skin. He looked at you, his eyes searching, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and something far deeper.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me...” he murmured, his voice low, almost hoarse.

You let out a breathless laugh, your hands still gripping his shirt. “Pretty sure I have an idea.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating between you, and for a moment, the tension broke, replaced by something lighter, softer. But his hands didn’t leave your waist, and you didn’t step away.

“I meant what I said.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the storm. “I want to try, Hongjoong. Whatever this is, I want it.”

He nodded slowly, his thumb brushing against your side in an almost absent-minded motion, as if he couldn’t stop touching you.

“So do I.” he admitted, the words coming out like a confession.

Your chest swelled at the vulnerability in his tone, the weight of his walls finally crumbling in front of you. You smiled, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth, the simple act filled with a quiet certainty that this—whatever it was—was worth the risk.

“Good to hear, cowboy.” you said softly, your lips brushing his. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

"You really aren't since your car isn't working."

You both laughed slightly, leaning against each other. And with that, he kissed you again, this time deeper, his hands pulling you closer

The kiss deepened, desperate now, as if both of you were clinging to the moment, afraid it might slip away. His hands roamed, pulling you against him, as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of you, his touch frantic, hungry. His lips were insistent, pushing against yours with a wild urgency that made your pulse race, each movement of his mouth eager and desperate. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the small of your back as he pulled you even closer, his body flush against yours. You could feel the heat of him, the way his chest rose and fell erratically as his breath mingled with yours, soft groans of need escaping him. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the wet strands, pulling him closer, if that was even possible. The intensity of the kiss matched the ferocity of the storm outside, the rain hammering against the barn roof as though it too was desperate to kill the fire between you. You felt his lips move down to your neck, kissing, nibbling, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. The sensation made your back arch instinctively, a shiver running through you from feeling him so close, so urgent. But then, just as quickly as it had started, you felt him stiffen against you, his hands halting their movements, making you sigh in frustration. He pulled away abruptly, his breath ragged, his eyes wide with something that looked almost like panic while his lips where red and full, making it hard to not kiss them again.

“Hey.” Hongjoong said, his voice rough, but with a tone of concern.

“Mmmh?” You hummed, staring at his lips while biting your own.

“We should go back inside.” He pulled back slightly, his hands on your arms now, steadying you. “Before you catch your death out here.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, breathless and confused, the remnants of the kiss still lingering on your lips. He seemed to have pulled away not because of you, but because of something else—something in him that was fighting with the intensity of his emotions. You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of disappointment and warmth at his words, unsure whether it was the cold or the abrupt end to the kiss that left you feeling so undone. He gently took your hand, guiding you back toward the farmhouse as he ran, the storm still raging above, but for the first time since your breakup, the world didn’t feel so chaotic. Not with him by your side. You entered the house giggling as he quickly wrapped a blanket around your wet body while you looked at him in awe. He snickered before kissing you again, as gently as he could. The rain drummed on the roof above you, but you didn’t hear it. All that mattered was the way he tasted, the way his body pressed against yours, the way his kiss made you feel like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Thank God your car broke down.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #x reader #hongjoong x reader #cowboy ateez #cowboy x reader

123 notes · View notes

virq-qgo · 2 days ago

Note

If you still need Arthur Morgan requests, what about some angst that turns into fluff or smut in the form of being captured by a gang and forming a bond with a fellow captive?

Or perhaps him desperately longing for someone he thinks he has no chance with until he finds out they're just as into him? Bonus for him breaking down a little about it >:)

I fucked up *sobs* I wanted extra money on rdr2 so I was introduced the world of cheats. I didn't fucking know it wouldn't save my process until I found out when I was fucking sent back to the beginning. Not too happy about that.

Also, I'm so sorry for the delay. I am working on the other requests, but I have a hard time writing when I notice that nobody sees/likes/reposts/comment my work. Cause I work hard on it, and lose the motivation if it goes unnoticed. So please forgive me for the slow updates! I also feel like I can't write anymore so now it's just shitty.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! I decided to write the second prompt because my brain generated ideas for that one!!!

Warnings: Arthur is OOC (probably, idk..) I don't remember that one guys name, but he was an "O'Driscoll" but joined the camp. Drunk Arthur, my writing, unedited because my neck and back hurts. (I locked in.) FEM reader

Arthur Morgan, the man who had a five thousand dollar bounty on his head. The man who was deemed as dangerous and do not approach. Had some silly school boy crush on the sweet girl at the camp. And that girl was you.

The way you would care for him when he returns back from a trip Dutch had sent him on, make sure to have left over meals so that he could eat. You even go as far to bathe him when Arthur has no energy left in him to do it himself.

Oh, how deep in love he has fallen.

But he couldn’t help but let his mind wander if those soft hands of yours had touched another man's body.

Or if you smiled that beautiful smile to somebody else.

Maybe your arms wrap tighter against another man's body when you’re sharing a horse.

A sigh escaped his lips as he guided his horse back into camp, he was starting to think too much of you and it was taking a serious toll on him. As soon as Arthur arrived at the posts to hitch his horse. He heard your laughter.

There he saw you with Kieran, laughing.

He didn’t know why it had made him so angry, but it did. He wanted to beat Kieran for making you laugh. For getting to see your smile.

But, Arthur couldn’t help but think about just how much better Kieran was. He was a good man, and didn't have a bounty. And treated everyone with kindness even if he didn’t get it back. Arthur Morgan truly had no chance with you. And it hurts.

So he did what he did best when it came to dealing with shitty emotions. Going to the bar and getting absolutely shit faced.

Arthur had been six beers in and lost count of the amount of shots he took. Despite being shitfaced, he would never be shitfaced enough to not notice you. He felt your presence near him and when looking, there you were right next to him with a concerned look on your pretty face.

“Arthur,” Your voice was soft and gentle. “Come home, it’s getting late.”

He knew he should've listened to you and put down the beers. But he was too deep in to care. “Go on back to Kieran.” Arthur slurred over his words before calling over the bartender for another beer.

But as soon as the man tried giving another bottle to Arthur. You snatched it and gave it to the next person.

“H-hey!” Arthur yelled, turning his body to face you but stumbled over his feet. Almost nearly losing his balance. “That was mine!”

You slipped the bartender some money before grabbing Arthur by the arm and leading him to the entrance of the saloon. Ignoring his drunken protest and attempts at pulling away from you, you still took him to the hotel.

“One room please,” You say with a smile on your face to the man behind the counter. Paying what you owed, the man placed the key to the room into the palm of your hand.

“Please no trouble, that man is a trouble maker as it is.” He spoke sheepishly. Almost regretting letting you buy a room.

But unfortunately for him, you were already gone and up the stairs.

“Arthur, stop dragging your feet.” You grumbled and tugged on his hand while trying not to get irritated with him.

“Then take me back to the damn saloon.” Arthur argued.

With a surprising amount of strength, you yanked him to the hotel door and held onto him with a death grip while trying to unlock the door. Soon enough, you unlocked the door and guided Arthur in before shutting it behind you.

“God dammit woman.” Arthur grumbles at you as he wobbles over to the bed and flops onto it. “your always ruinin, it for me! For making me feel the way I do about yah,” Arthur rubs a hand over his face before taking off his hat and placing it on the nightstand beside him. “Yer lucky that I love yah, otherwise I wouldn’t have been that easy to take!”

You look at Arthur puzzled, he loved you? Nonsense. You saw the way he interacted with Mary Linton. Now that was love, the way he would caress her cheeks when she was upset. How would he take her on trips with him just to make her happy? Arthur just bout did almost anything for that woman.

But he was drunk, maybe he thought you were her.

“Arthur you’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He calls out your name and sits up to look at you, like he wasn’t absolutely plastered. “I wanted to kill that boy today. I should be the only one who gets to make you laugh like that, o-or smile.” He drunkenly grumbles, “can’t but think about how good you are. I shouldn’t have these feelings for yah.”

“Arthur-” you try to stop him but he interrupts you.

“You’re so beautiful, and I'm so in love with you. And it makes me so mad that some boy can make you laugh so easily. I get it, I'm older, roughed up. Even got a bounty on my head. I don’t deserve to have these feelings for you.”

You watch Arthur ramble, but you notice something that makes you frown. There were tears in his eyes but he wiped them before you got a chance to say anything.

“I might be drunk, but i’m not drunk enough to not remember how in love I am with you. The damn alcohol didn’t stop from how much I'm hurting.” He chuckles, trying to attempt to mask the pain in his voice.

“Arthur, even if you don’t know what you’re talking about. You are loved, you are meant to be loved. I don’t know why you bother hiding how you truly feel about the people you care about, because everyone I know loves you. All the women back at camp boast about just how safe they feel, the children look up to you and tell me about how Uncle Arthur taught them how to bug Dutch. And the men, they see you as their brother.” You rant, but your voice was gentle. Even though this was meant to drill into that head of his, you couldn’t bring yourself to be upset with him. But as soon as you were about to go off on him again. You notice those same tears that he was trying so hard to hide, fall down his cheeks.

And without thinking, you step closer to Arthur and wipe his tears away with your thumb. “Maybe tomorrow morning, if you remember telling me just how much you love me. You can treat me to breakfast and I’ll tell you how I feel.”

With a nod of his head, Arthur agreed. “Can you stay with me for the night? I don’t want to be left alone.

“Of course I can.” You smile before walking to the chair in the corner. It won't be comfortable, but it’ll work.

“What are you doin’?” Arthurs voice broke you from your train of thought.

You gave the man a weird look before sitting down in the chair ,“Getting comfortable?”

You see Arthur roll his eyes before standing up, still very wobbly. But managed to walk over to you and pull you up.” “Get in the damn bed woman.” he grumbled while he guided you to the bed.

“Are you sure-” You try to talk but he interrupts you once again.

“Drunk or not, I wouldn't be a real man if I let a woman sleep uncomfortably.”

A soft smile sits on your face as you crawl into bed, waiting for Arthur to join you. And once he does, you unconsciously scoot a little closer to him. His warmth and scent immediately puts you to sleep.

The sun peeking from the blinds and shining straight into your eyes, was what woke you up. You reach out to feel for Arthur, but he wasn’t there. This really woke you up.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the previous night where he had confessed his feelings. You knew he had mistaken you for Mary Linton. God, you hated yourself for agreeing to sleep in the same bed as him. Tears pool your eyes as you feel the embarrassment fill your blood. As you were getting up from the bed, the door opened and there stood Arthur with breakfast in his hands. The warm look he had on his face dropped once he noticed the tears in your eyes.

“What's wrong?” He asked and put the breakfast he had found and placed it onto the table.

Before you could get a word in, he was next to you in a flash. “Why’er crying?”

Arthur gave you a puzzled look when he heard you laugh and wipe your eyes. “I just had thought you really left.”

You could see him visibly sigh from relief, he was so worried that he had done something wrong. “Is it a bad time to say that I love you?” he grins and reaches out for a plate of food and placing it into your lap, eagerly awaiting for the answer you promised him.

Your lips curl as you lean in and press your lips against his. “Does that tell you?”

“I don't know, you might have to tell me.” He grins and takes the plate of food off your lap and places it to the side. This time he was to kiss you, his fingers curl against your hips as he pushed you flat down on the bed.

“I love you too, Arthur Morgan.” You tell him in between kisses.

A soft squeal escapes your lips as you feel the scruff of his beard tickle your cheek as he whispers into your ear, “I had a hunch you'd say that.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #angst #fluff #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption two #rdr2 fandom

57 notes · View notes

butterflywingswrites · 3 days ago

Text

reposting all my anon fics in one place. enjoy 🤗

cooking with caitlin

you put the food on a different burner to cool down. you felt caitlin’s arms wrap around your neck

“thank you for teaching me how to cook” she whispered in your ear then kissed under it. she pressed hot open mouthed kisses against your neck

“cait please, we have to eat then make the cookies”

“the food needs to cool down” she said between kisses “just let me kiss your neck until it cools.” you couldn’t argue with her logic. you let her kiss your neck until the food stopped steaming

“the food is ready” you whimpered, amazed that you were able to get words out. caitlin reluctantly removed her mouth from your neck and moved to grab the plates. you stared at her as you two ate dinner. that cute face, that pretty hair, those damn dimples. you wanted her. badly. cooking with her was intimate and sweet but also arousing. just being around her was arousing

after eating dinner and washing the dishes, she started taking out the cookie dishes. you got all the ingredients out and began reading out the instructions. the two of you joked around as you put the ingredients in the bowl. she didn’t have a mixer so you had to use a spatula for mixing. you laughed at the intensity on her face as she mixed the dough. she’s so cute you could barely stand it. you put the cookies on the sheet, put them in the oven, and set the timer for the recommended time

“the cookies will taste good but i want to taste something even more delicious” caitlin stated boldly

“you can taste what you want”

“anything i want? i know everything about you tastes so good”

“we still have to wait for the cookies. we can’t let them burn” you tried to be practical

“how about for now i just taste your lips?” she brought her lips close to yours. you managed to mumble out a yes against her lips and she closed the gap. the kisses were soft, surprising you but not in a bad way. you assumed she was going to be aggressive with the kiss but instead she was sweet. you continued to enjoy her sweet kisses until she pulled back a bit

“can i taste your tongue?” she breathed out against your lips. instead of using words, you answered her question by grabbing her neck and pulling her back into the kiss. you pulled the hair at the top of her neck when her tongue entered your mouth. you continued to make out with caitlin until the timer went off, startling you both

“we don’t want the cookies to burn” you breathed out and pushed her off of you. you put the oven mits on and took the cookies out of the oven. you felt caitlin’s presence behind you as you put the cookies on the counter and turned off the oven. the second you took the oven mits off, caitlin was dragging you to her bedroom

“the cookies need to cool so i have time to properly thank you for helping me make them” she pushed you against the bed and got on top of you. she played with the hem of your shirt as she made out with you. eventually she took a break from kissing you to pull your shirt over your head. she kissed your chest above your bra cup

“can i taste you here?”

“mmhm yes” she took your bra off and kissed all over your boobs. she kissed down your stomach to the top of your pants. she tugged gently on your pants, silently asking to take them off. you responded by pulling your pants down along with your underwear. caitlin raised her eyebrows and smirked at your eagerness. you were too wet to be embarrassed at your desperation

“can i taste you here?” she put her mouth near your knee “can i taste your pretty thighs?” you made a moan that resembled a noise of affirmation. she kissed slowly up your thigh, enjoying the noises that were coming out of your mouth. you tugged at her hair so she could feel how much you were enjoying her kisses. she reached the top of your thigh

“how about here? can i taste you here?”

“caitlin please” with your request, she used her tongue to lap gently at your wetness. she gave you long slow licks along your pussy, making sure to also give your clit the attention it needed. you gave her compliments and tugged at her hair to let her know how much you were enjoying her mouth. as you got closer to your orgasm, she sped up her tongue and put her hands on your hips. you screamed out her name as you came. she let you ride it out on her tongue and she released your hips

“no way the cookies taste that good”

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark smut

51 notes · View notes

zigzweig · 10 hours ago

Text

Sweet Returns

summary: after two years of patrick calling her late at night to come over and fuck, reader decides to end the cycle. it just so happens to be the night patrick planned on confessing that he’d maybe caught feelings.

warnings: mentions of sex, kissing, angst, fluff, reconciliation, mentions of alcohol

no matter how bad or selfish or borderline rude he was- patrick zweig would call, you would come. literally.

you shook your head at him in the parking lot of the motel he was staying at while he was on tour. you were in college. he was in your area and he called, and you went. you shook your head and you stood your ground and you knew you’d come, but you didn’t come. you wouldn’t. this was it.

“came all this way for what, then?” he asked, arms gesturing to you. 2am on a sunday. your arms were folded over your chest, red zip up slipping down your shoulder. the end-of-summer air was the perfect temperature. warm, but with hints of a cool wind that tousled your hair a little. “you drive over here at 2am just to stand there and say you can’t and that i’m not good? for you? for what?”

his words sometimes stung like this, but this feeling- you felt it in your fingers like loaded springs in a pressed coil. you felt it shoot sharply against the very tip of your fingers and toes. live wires. electric pain.

he was loud for a motel at 2am. you hated it. you hated that you even showed up. your friends shouted at you to stop letting him dictate the place you lay your head when he’s in town. shaking you, telling you to stop seeing him if you feel like shit the afternoon of the next day. you tried to stay away, you did, you wanted to. but something about the whirlwind, like a riptide, pulling you back out. this early. this late. like a sleeper agent, you were put in action. like an on/off button on a toy. and you hated it. so you showed up. and he was greeting you, and you pulled away. which led to this mess, this confusion.

you did not want to be pulled under again just for an afternoon of shame. you swore sometimes returning home, you accidentally held your shoes in your hand minutes after getting back to your dorm. the shame lingered, festered. your girlfriends usually had to bribe you out of the disgusting stupor.

“i can’t, patrick, i’m sorry,” you said, anxious enough to shake just slightly. “i’m going home.”

“you drove thirty minutes to come here, say hi, and say sorry?”

“guess so,” you bit your lip. he looked at you with disbelief. this was unlike you. usually he had you horizontal by now. you guessed that he didn’t like your non-compliance attitude. it was new, fresh, probably scared him. you imagined he was hungry right now, upset about not having what he wanted. what he ordered.

“why are you still here then?” he asked. it was bitter, his tone. “you said it, go.” one of his hand shoved into his jean pocket, he gestured toward your car with the other one. “fuck, didn’t want to see you anyway. go.”

“you mean fuck me?” you scoffed, almost baffled at his choice of word. it was so simple, the word ‘see’ instead of ‘fuck’, but at this point. it was too far gone to be unnoticed. “didn’t want to fuck me anyway? god, what will you do when your number one piece of ass walks out on you? you’ve got the second piece of ass on speed dial, you don’t need me here, patrick. you want me. i don’t want that anymore.”

his raised eyebrows fell and his darkened, but not in a way that scared you at all. more like clouded over, like breaking a spell. you stood your ground, despite watching his body lose it’s tense.

you shook your head again, taking a step back. “goodnight.” he had nothing to say, he just stared at you. you imagined you’d upset him, and that he was only upset with you. not himself. would be just like him. so you took another step back and turned, walking back over to your car. you’d have to get gas on the way home. your heart raced, but this was it, this was over.

you unlocked the door, opened it, got in, and you reached to close the door, but it was stopped by his hand on the corner. his figure startled you just a bit, and you wondered if he had seen it, afraid you looked stupid or something. you also wondered if he’d hurt his hand catching the door like that. and then you wondered why he did it, before he spoke.

“there’s no ‘second piece of ass,’ first up.” he said. you couldn’t see his face. only heard him, voice firm. “it’s only you and you’re not just a ‘piece of ass’, or a toy. i don’t know where you got that idea.” he said.

you turned your legs out of the drivers seat and stood up. he stepped back to let you out and you looked at him expectantly. he stopped your door from closing, it better be fucking good. your anxiety was turning into adrenaline. recycling.

he kept talking, “yeah, i did want to fuck you. i always do when you’re around. can’t help myself. and speaking of no second ‘pieces of ass,’ i don’t have a single other girl in rotation, though i know you believe differently.” he said it like they were supposed to be offensive words, but they were genuine, hidden by sharp tone. shielded. “it’s only you. when i’m away i’m passing time waiting to come back around. i call you, we fuck, you leave. it’s all i get.”

“all you get?” you snapped. “like i’m supposed to do more?” you advanced a step on him, but he didn’t move. “i come over when you ask, i ride you until you come, you’ve insulted me, you’ve made me feel like i’m not good enough for you since we met. and i could have anyone else, but you keep me in your pocket to call and fuck and go back on tour, leaving me to feel used and stupid. and you want more from me? what do you want? a fuckbuddy, a friend? i feel like you want a toy.”

“what i want,” his words overlapped with your last ones. “fuck- i don’t have anyone else. it’s always you, i always come back here. i don’t have to, i could be closer to stanford with art, i could be back home constantly. but my winnings go to motels here, hotels here. when i say see you, i mean see you, i don’t just mean fuck you. what do you want me to tell you?”

“what does that even mean?” you gestured wildly. “what do you want me to tell you? i don’t know, patrick. i’m trying to say goodbye to you, i don’t want you around, i don’t want to see you. don’t come around here if you don’t want to.”

he looked far left, shaking his head, taking a sharp breath in. “what do you want me to say? because i’m sure you’re being obtuse on fucking purpose. i want to see you. i dont want to see anyone else. i dont want to fuck anyone else either, but they go together. you think i don’t know i’m an asshole? you’ve told me again and again.”

“you are!” you ensured. he shut his eyes tight and pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek. your body pulsed, electric pain now a current running through every vain. you felt it in every appendage. your stomach muscles were tight, and you were sure you weren’t breathing enough.

but he looked down at you, breaking the small silence, continuing, “an asshole. so yeah, i figure i should leave you alone for your own good, but then when i’m out of here and back on tour, i can’t get you out of my head and as soon as i’m done, i end up back here, calling you. and you come. and then you’re gone.”

“patri-“

“i don’t deserve more than that, i know you’re not staying. and you probably should go, but i don’t know. i don’t even know why i stopped your door. just go if you’re gonna fucking go.”

another beat passed. you looked at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “what are you saying?”

“i don’t fucking know.” he looked at his feet, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek again. his hand met the back of his neck. “delete my number and i’ll delete yours. i’ll do it in the morning. just fuck off.”

your eyes burned, your emotions piling on top of each other, all pressing on your chest. you watched his foot turn to face you. you grabbed the door of the car and braced a little against the anxious ball of weight that was suddenly returning. circumstances began to shift underneath your feet, dizzying you just a little. and you were unfortunately sober. you blinked hard, shaking your head.

“yeah, whatever.” patrick replied to your own thoughts, reading your mind. he must have, there wasn’t another explanation. “i’ll do what you want, though. genuinely.”

you could feel he meant it. it wasn’t an empty promise. you knew he knew you were wondering if it was, and he wanted you to know it wasn’t. he was giving you up as well. when you met him, you thought he was cute, and you were drunk. sometimes you wondered if you had met him sober and didn’t take him home that night, that maybe he’d take you seriously. but that thought had been given up two weeks in, two years ago. it was weird to feel like it never really left as you slowly began to wonder if he meant what you never thought he could mean.

“okay,” you agreed, swallowing hard. he raised his head from his feet. you would give him up, he would give you up. the soft september breeze blew his curls just slightly. his eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them. you always liked his eyelashes, you didn’t think that they’d be even prettier when wet. you could see it in the motel light, the light bounced off of it. it was so weird. “you’re upset.”

“go.”

“patrick.”

“you’re not supposed to give a fuck. i’m begging you not to give a fuck.”

“say what you mean,” you ordered him, wits end. edge of your seat. “fuck, say it!”

“i don’t know what you want me to say!”

“am i just a body to you?”

“no, fuck off.”

“tell me.”

“tell you what?”

you looked him in the eyes, “are you telling me you… fuck, i can’t-“ you couldn’t even say it, you felt so stupid. “fuck, patrick!” both of you couldn’t say it. but it was so familiar, the feeling. the nervousness, the tingling in your limbs, the flip of your stomach. resurfacing, curious, naive.

both of you getting more riled up by the second, you looked anywhere else. you heard him breathe out hard, exasperated. “i don’t think i should say anything.”

“so why?”

he shook his head, “you deserve better.”

“than you?”

“yeah.”

the silence stung your ears. the hair on your arms stood up straight. the air was suddenly hot and thick. and you held onto the door a little tighter.

“patrick, do you want me?”

he pressed his fingers to the side of his chin, turning his body away from you. you watched his hand slide down to the back of his neck. you knew him, he wasn’t dumb, he knew he had to say nothing. if he said something, you might stay. and it was best that you didn’t. the fight wasn’t worth having. “just go.” he replied, not even turning around. he couldn’t look at you.

your heart pulled, a sinking feeling filling your chest. why? this wasn’t attachment, this wasn’t manipulation, this was him. for the first time. him. “okay.” you said. but you stood there, just a moment longer. and he did turn after a moment, eyes locking on yours. you couldn’t really read him. but you didn’t need to. you just wanted to say goodbye properly.

so your hands fell on his shoulders, squeezing gently as they trailed over, up his neck, and to the back of his head as you kissed him slowly, deeply, passionately. there was no lust in this kiss, no urgency, no bed in sight. his hands, the most gentle they’d been without having to fuck first, slipped around your waist. he kissed you back just as softly. there was no hunger. just the chirp of crickets and the whisper of the nearby highway. and you kissed him, pressed against the side of your car. he kissed you the same. you head swam.

this was him. his desire was only to kiss you, his hands travelling up to your jaw as yours trailed down his chest. it was deep, slow, every moment felt. he was the best kisser, it felt a shame to stop kissing. so your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. he smelled like cigarettes and his subtle cologne. it seemed like the most familiar thing in the world. you sighed between kisses.

you wanted this. and you wondered how real it was. how badly did he want you to stay? the truth was, he wanted you to be free from his cycle. he knew he wasn’t supposed to have you. he thought this would have gone differently, planning out an entirely different way to tell you this. but he couldn’t say it anyway. it- the words- hung in the air as you kissed, embraced, and said goodbye all in one. it was bittersweet. and a little bit sad.

because the kiss eventually ended. and you stayed against him. he didn’t want you to know how upsetting it was to wrap his arms around you for the first and hopefully last time in this context. his lips pressed against the top of your head as you stayed that way just a moment longer. and even that moment ended.

you looked at him again. “goodnight, patrick.”

“goodnight, y/n.” he replied. “just fuck off.” but he didn’t mean it. and you drove away. that was it. that was your goodbye. and he didn’t come around again. he kept on tour and started going back home instead of toward you. you kept going to school, graduated. your friends were proud you quit the cycle, but you didn’t tell them about any of what patrick meant. it wasn’t romance, it wasn’t going to be.

you missed him sometimes. and four years passed as you missed him occasionally. friends came and went. you dated two guys since then, terrible in bed and horrible in general. you missed him after having to fake your last orgasm with the guy you were seeing. you had a job now, an apartment, a solid group of friends. things were good.

you were grocery shopping when you ran into him again. a cheap little shop that had the best chip selection and most essential items. you thought maybe it was someone else, but it was him, in a sweater and jeans, holding a stack of ramen bricks. and your heart skipped a beat, like you were four years younger and he still gave you butterflies. and you were about to move, to start to think of what to do, when he turned around and looked up to see you. he turned his head away, then back at you, doing his own double-take.

his eyes, just a little wide locked onto yours. so you smiled, a little smug at his reaction. you walked over with a slight sway. he continued to look bewildered. he looked four years older. and he thought you looked gorgeous. “hi.” you said, keeping that smile.

“hey.” he responded, blinking once. “how are you?”

“i’m okay,” you replied. “how are you?”

“i’m fine.” he swallowed again, as if nervous. “are you stopping by or are you local?”

“local, why? are you local?” you asked.

“yeah, i live a block away.” he said. “just moved.”

you stared at each other for a second more, analyzing features, thinking back… and you nodded, holding your carton of raspberries. “are you free tonight?” you smiled.

“uh- yeah, think so,” he replied. still shocked.

“would you maybe want to get a drink?”

“i would, yeah,”

you nodded again, rocking on your heels, “perfect. see you then.” your heart was beating a mile a minute. it was him, he was here, he lived here… and you’d just asked him to get a drink. but you weren’t nervous. just… excited. something in you knew more. he was different, he had changed, he carried himself differently. and you were trusting it. the past was the past. and there was a reason you ran into each other.

when you got home, you texted him. and it was a leap of faith to hope he had the same number. you relied on it. because even after all the time had passed, you never actually blocked his number. you couldn’t.

and the address to the bar delivered immediately, meaning… he hadn’t deleted yours either. all these years. you grinned a little as you read his response.

‘its a date’.

cocky. presumptuous. horrible. terrifying. exciting.

a/n: omg first fic on this account. thought maybe this was a fun place to start off. also, i might consider a second part to this fic.let me know if you want IN on the taglist. requests open!

#art donaldson #challengers #challengers fic #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig angst #patrick zweig fic #patrick zweig hurt/comfort #pat zweig #p.zweig #challengers angst #challengers movie

45 notes · View notes

hongism · 2 days ago

Text

a small little tidbit for u guys to hopefully enjoy 🫶

...

“Do you believe in God, y/n?”

“No,” comes your blunt answer, not a breath of hesitation between when he lays the object against your palm and when your lips part to speak. His lips twitch at the haste in your response. Fingers curling around you, Hongjoong digs his grip into yours with enough force to make it burn and sting.

“Then isn’t it funny how one can believe in a God who put him at my mercy?” He arches a brow at you without shifting focus, and you’re the one to break eye contact in favor of looking down at the figure who remains knelt at the altar mere feet away. It makes your skin crawl, and in an act of desperation you shift your head in the opposite direction to look back towards the doors. However this time, rather than it being unguarded, you set your sights on someone else. Familiar in a way that should leave comfort in your bones, and yet.

Dread sinks through you like an anchor seeking purchase at the bottom of an ocean.

There, in the space between a column and the door, stands San. Though in the shadows and just barely visible to you, you can see his cat-like eyes staring back at you through the candlelit darkness so sharply. You know well enough that if he truly wished for you not to see him, then he would be shrouded entirely from your sight. That inkling of familiarity in your gut which you felt upon entering seems more like intuition now. The man at the altar does not budge, almost deluding you into thinking he isn’t truly the man you’re assuming him to be.

“There is no merciful God out there,” Hongjoong continues, fully satisfied with the discontent painting your features, “if one were even to exist. Mercy is a selfish concept made by selfish people to grant forgiveness to those who do not deserve it. Men should not pray to monsters, yet suddenly they are believers when I arrive at their doorstep. Has anyone ever worshipped you, y/n?”

You swallow around nothing to keep yourself from jerking your attention back to San.

“Prayed to you?”

Hongjoong brings your hand up alongside his, letting the edge of the knife rest against the column of his neck. It’s unmarred and clean, compared to the rest of him that you’ve seen thus far.

“Can you even imagine that kind of love?”

“Stop.” You aren’t wholly aware that you’ve just uttered the word yourself, but it does grant you reprieve and your hand falls down to your side with fingers still loosely clutched around the knife. Small and hardly enough to do damage, your mind supplies as your push your thoughts elsewhere. Likely nothing more than a fruit knife.

“I do not consider my actions to be merciful — I’m not quite that full of myself.”

“Do you believe in any God yourself then?”

“Why should I need to believe in anyone other than myself?” Hongjoong hums and looks to his right. Moments later, he is heading up the altar, heels clicking against the polished tiles as he walks right past the prostrated figure at the foot of those steps. Though you are no believer, the sight still feels quite sacrilegious when he positions himself directly in front of the marble altar and leans his weight against it.

The unknown guest at Hongjoong’s feet finally stirs, and you remain rooted to the spot as he stretches to his full height. Long fingers curl around the hems of his hood, and the black fabric barely budges when he tugs it down to rest at his neck. He looks different now, hair bleached even more white and the ends aren’t as frayed compared to when you last saw him, but it’s unmistakably the man you know so intimately. Yet despite apparently being privy to the entirety of this interaction you’ve just had with Hongjoong, Seonghwa does nothing to acknowledge your presence behind him. Hongjoong smiles something fond, gaze almost clouded as he stares down from the heightened altar. When his fingers curl under Seonghwa’s chin, you decide that you’ve had enough.

“Why did you bring me to see this?”

“Me? Well, that’s simple. I didn’t.” You are ready with your retort but the disbelief coursing through you renders you speechless. “You chose to follow.”

#moc: spoilers #mists of celeste #<3

46 notes · View notes

re-whump · 2 days ago

Text

Pest Treatment (1?)

no editing we die like mice but oops some of those mice were also people

an exterminator meets a borrower or two; a borrower has a very rough evening

cw: whump, tiny whumpee, carewhumper, animal death (mice), death/dead body (look, one of the main characters is an exterminator), some very callous handling of the dead, poisoning, kidnapping/capture, you know normal meetcute stuff

It was the last visit at the end of a long day, and Rich had volunteered himself to speak with their client, leaving Frankie to get down on her aching knees to check the traps they’d left out earlier this week. She shouldn’t complain. The client was a old creep and she was way too young to be bitching about her joints.

So far, she’d found three dead mice so far, which was more than she’d been expecting, really. For all the man’s complaints of nighttime noise and ruined food, she and Rich had hardly seen any actual signs of rodent activity, never mind a full-blown infestation. She slipped into the garage, where they’d seen most of the pellets.

She didn’t expect to find…this…waiting in one of the traps. Frankie didn’t know what it was or how it got there or exactly how guilty she needed to feel about it. She didn’t want to touch it. She didn’t want to find out that it was real. There plenty of blood on her hands, that was the nature of pest control, but it was animal blood, not…

It looked like a man.

She hollered for Rich. He’d been working in the field for much longer than she had, long enough to have encountered just about anything infesting these parts. If nothing else, he could confirm she wasn’t hallucinating. He excused himself from his chat with the homeowner and joined her in the garage.

“Need something, Francesca?”

She was too disturbed to bother to scowl at the long form of her name.

“Am I…? What am I looking at here?” Frankie asked, gesturing to the dead thing.

A closer examination just made her stomach turn. The thing in the trap was either some kind of tiny human or a sick doll set up as a prank. Its face, barely the size of her fingertip, was a snapshot of shock and agony, gone still with death. The snap-trap’s bar had crashed down over the tiny man’s middle and shattered his spine. Her stomach lurched and she couldn’t look away.

It was no dead mouse, but a murder scene and Rich barely flinched. The corner of his lip twitched down and he shook his head.

“Ah, hell. I’ve never seen one dumb enough to walk into a trap. Poor thing must’ve been desperate,” Rich said regretfully.

“You’ve seen this before? What is it? Was he…?” her voice struggled to make it up her throat.

“A person? Maybe. Or some kinda fairy, I think, they’re not much for talking. It’s usually best to just let them be, I’ve found. They leave on their own once we start setting out poison,” Rich said.

He told her to go take a quick break, maybe wash up a bit. The job was almost done anyway, it wouldn’t be so bad to finish it alone. She hesitated with the knee-jerk sense that she had to prove herself capable. There was little Frankie hated more than being dismissed as weak and she hadn’t yet been at this job long enough to build up a solid reputation to defend herself with.

But she could feel the blood on her hands even through her gloves and that felt like a sign of bad mental health to come if she tried to ignore this guilt. She went inside to hide out in the bathroom for a moment to clean her hands and clear her head.

What did Rich mean, that it had maybe been a person? It sure looked like one. They went out of their way to keep poisons inaccessible to non-target species, but they weren’t worried about these maybe-people? Maybe the maybe was a trick meant to knock the sin down from murder, but that thought was even more upsetting. She could throw up.

She wondered if there were others. There had to be, right, if Rich had seen them before? Should they be putting out signs or…how close to human were they? How many had they killed? Had she killed?

She took off her gloves and washed her sweating hands. The mental image of that face couldn’t be cleaned away. She swallowed hard. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d set out mouse traps, per her job, and somehow that thing—the man—had crawled into reality and stumbled into one. She didn’t have any reason to feel guilty. She scrubbed harder, digging at her skin until she had almost convinced herself to let it go.

She took a deep breath to go back to work when she heard a soft thud, like the soap slipping off its tray and into the sink basin. Frankie turned around to fix it and nearly jumped out of her skin. There was another one there, one of the maybe-people mouse-folk, lying flat on her stomach in the sink. She was a bit larger than the other, fat as a rat, but she was also alive. She pushed herself up to her knees with shaking arms, and clutched her gut in misery. It took her a moment to notice Frankie looking down at her, but when she did, she shuddered.

“H-help,” she gasped. Frankie swore she heard the word within the creature’s labored breathes.

This one, Frankie decided, this one she could save.

Starling sat beside her husband’s body and wished she felt more heartbroken. Her hands shook as she felt for signs of life and again found none. She ought to grieve, to cry, but she hardly had the space for it. She was disgusted. Furious. Sick. Exhausted.

He’d tried to kill them all, and, damn it all, she had helped. She had baked his poison into something more palatable and served it up to the whole brood.

“Did you know?” she whispered. Her throat burned. He had lived outside before they met each other. He should’ve known what rat bait looked like.

Some kinda protein bar, he had said. Found it outside. Guess someone dropped it while they were working, lucky for us.

And Starling had believed him. As if borrowers ever got lucky. There was something odd about the block, the proportions maybe, the color, but the humans dyed their food all sorts of bright colors and this had had nuts in it and they hadn’t found any real food in days and she was scraping crumbs of crumbs out of the pantry and something had to be better than nothing.

They should have left when the mice came inside, when the old man started locking down the kitchen. They should have left when the exterminators came and laid siege to the property. But Starling’s family, self included, was proud and long-established in the old home.

She gave her husband’s frozen hand a final squeeze and stumbled to her feet. Her head swam as she moved. Her body begged her to lay back down. Across the room, her mother wasn’t moving. Her sister moaned about the pain, and their cousin collapsed when he tried to stand. He couldn’t speak when she tried to help him and she fled.

She was a terrible person for it, but she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t face this. She was too scared to see who was gone and who was on their way out and afraid to hope there was anyone else left.

She’d eaten last, which meant she’d eaten the least, so as terrible as she felt, it was safe to assume everyone else had it worse. Maybe if she just, if she could throw up, she might…maybe she could find something to fix this.

Vomiting didn’t help, at least not enough. She was still so weak she was shaking and now her mouth tasted of bile. She kept going, further and further from her home within the walls. Her vision blurred with dizziness and tears.

She fumbled her way down towards a bathroom in search of soap and clean water to get this taste out of her mouth, at least. But getting there had been exhausting and her coordination was getting worse and worse. She grabbed scraped off a bit of soap then tripped into the hard basin below.

She pushed herself up and froze as a shadow swallowed up the light. As a living mountain, a colossus, a human stared down at her. The most notorious predator in the world. It smelled like sanitizer and bug spray.

Starling was so damn sick, she hadn’t even noticed the human was in here until it was staring down at her. Hadn’t thought twice about the wet soap, about the light. Was too dizzy to think much about the noise, since everything was already too loud. She tried unsuccessfully to get up and run. All she could do was tremble and pray for rescue.

“H-help,” she gasped.

But of course no one could help her. She had run away from her responsibility to her family and she would face her consequences alone

#g/t #giant tiny #g/t whump #tiny whumpee #whump writing #my writing #oc: Frankie #oc: starling #p: pest treatment

50 notes · View notes

thezombieprostitute · 1 day ago

Text

Your Fixer: Breaking Point

Summary: A string of bad luck has you considering going back to your ex-husband.

Warnings: Manipulation, Mild violence. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part of the Yours AU

Fired. Again. You don't know what happened. Everything was going so well! You even had a wonderful performance review! But then one mistake, one upset high profile client, and it's all gone.

Maybe August was right. You'll never be anything without him.

You'd been so certain when you handed him the divorce papers. Certain he was holding you back, keeping you beneath him in every sense. And you had done well for the first several years after!

Then, after one party your luck seemed to turn south. The morning after your boss had complained about your behavior. You had no idea what he was talking about. Neither did your co-workers. But it didn't matter, you were fired.

Your coworkers were willing to be a reference and you were quick to find another job. Soon after, though, you were blindsided yet again. It felt like the universe was out to get you.

The library computers provided a good place to start looking into new jobs. You weren't sure you could find anything cheaper than the closet you call an apartment but at least you can find ways to cut spending while you applied to fast food jobs all day. Plus, if you stay put, you're less likely to have the urge to buy anything, right?

On the far end of the computer terminals, Jack O'Malley is discreetly keeping an eye on you. He'd been hired by your ex-husband to drive you back to him. "Preferably crawling, but I'll take what I get," Walker had sneered. He'd seen you at a work party and hated that you were doing so well without him.

Of course Jack took the job. So long as he prioritized Nick's work, he was allowed to take side jobs. Though only if they didn't break Nick's rules. This job was close to breaking a few of them but it straddled the line just enough Jack felt okay about it.

Well at least he used to feel okay about it. He'd heard those stories about abusers wanting to break strong people to make themselves feel better. He thought it was pop psych stuff. The abusers he'd seen went after weak people who wouldn't fight back. He had forgotten to account for kind people.

Jack looked into your history, and Walker's, in between bouts of getting you fired. You were a good person who'd had a bright future until Walker stepped in. The more Jack looked into Walker, the more he hated himself for taking the guy's money.

And now you're here at the library. He's remotely connected to your terminal, seeing everything you're doing. Even after all you've been through, even with tears in your eyes, you're still looking for ways to survive on your own. Jack can't help but be in awe of your strength.

He knows he should probably tell you what's been going on. Give you the evidence to take to the police or something. But the police aren't always reliable in these matters and Jack's never been good at the direct route.

The idea comes to him in a flash. He quickly writes up an email to Nick, attaching some of the worst evidence against August, leaving out some of his own influence on your current situation. He asks permission to help you out, keep you from going back to your loser ex.

After he sends the email he doesn't wait for permission. He posts an impromptu job opening that he'll make sure you find. Might get a few other unwanted applicants but that'll just make the interview feel more legitimate. He doesn't actually need an assistant, but that'll just make your job that much easier. And who doesn't love easy money?

He gets a reply from Nick:

Send Rogers to punch the mustache off him. If he wanted his wife to stay he should've treated her better.

Relieved Jack gets back to work making sure you find and apply for the fake job.

Jack returns to his apartment feeling good. You'd applied for the job and he was going to make sure to call you tomorrow about it. Maybe look up a few tasks you could do for him to make things feel legitimate.

He stops in his tracks when he sees Nick in his living room. With a knife.

"That request you sent me earlier, Jack? I know that wasn't the whole truth."

Jack's mouth is dry, his blood turned to ice.

"You shouldn't have taken this job. We're supposed to be making our people feel safe. Word gets out we forced a woman to go crawling back to her asshole ex, people lose faith in us. Maybe stop being so willing to pay us. Then it becomes a whole mess."

Jack nods, not trusting himself to speak.

"But, you're making amends in your own way," Nick cheerfully says, putting away his knife. "You're going to take very good care of this girl, right? Gonna fix all her problems?"

Jack nods, "yes, Sir."

"Good." Nick goes to walk by him but, faster than Jack can react, Nick kicks his leg, dropping him to his knees. He pulls Jack's hair, exposing his neck, and brings the knife back out, pressing it just enough to draw blood.

"You do something stupid like this again and I'll make sure you get made an example of," he growls. "Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Jack whimpers.

Nick removes the knife and pushes Jack's torso onto the ground before walking out of the apartment.

Jack takes in a deep breath. Yeah, lesson learned.

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989;

@lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

#jack o'malley #soft dark!jack o'malley x reader #jack o'malley x reader #jack o'malley x you #jack o'malley x female reader #jack o'malley x f!reader #soft dark!jack o'malley x you #soft dark!jack o'malley x female reader #soft dark!jack o'malley x f!reader #dark!jack o'malley x reader #dark!jack o'malley x you #dark!jack o'malley x female reader #dark!jack o'malley x f!reader

43 notes · View notes

marinettesaltprompts · 2 days ago

Text

The Perfect Partner (Part 3)

Prompt by @ironicreality

The expressions on Ladybug and Ryuko’s faces was worth every second he’d spent in the all-too-tight suit.

“Cat!?” Ladybug stumbled on her landing as she stared at the struggling butterfly he kept tightly trapped in one hand. “You got the Akuma- *already*?”

‘Without me!?’ went unsaid, but Cat Walker could practically feel Ladybug’s sense of reality breaking down.

“I found an opening.” Rubbing it in would be pointlessly petty and they were there to do a job, not play for points; “ready when you are.”

He held out his hand and Ladybug recovered enough to call for a Lucky Charm- an umbrella of all things- and promptly ready her yo-yo. One purification and a Miraculous Cure later, and there was no sign that Stormy Weather had ever been a threat.

“You dealt with that threat quickly,” Ryuko spoke first.

“She let her guard down,” Cat Walker calmly walked over to his dropped baton and snapped it into its compact form.

“The Akuma can multiply,” Ladybug finally regained her senses, and blurted out her critique;“If it’s left too long on its own, the Akuma can make hundreds- *thousands* of copies of itself.” Ladybug told him. “You *shouldn’t* have broken the Akumatized object before I was here.”

Well that *would* explain why no one else on her team ever tried to break the Akumatised object without her. Though from the curious look Ryuko let slip towards her leader it was news to her too.

Either way, there was nothing to be gained from point scoring;

“I understand, my apologies Ladybug.” Cat Walker calmly conceded. “I was only trying to prevent further chaos-.”

“That’s why you were here!” Ladybug sharply insisted. “To *distract* Stormy Weather until we arrived so she wouldn’t harm civilians!”

The former Akuma victim herself was still there, and turned red with embarrassment.

Ladybug instantly went pale and apologetic as she swiftly turned to the victim;

“Oh- ah, not that it’s your fault or anything!” She assured her with a wide smile. She swiftly stepped closer to Cat Walker, “I’m just grilling the team rookie on a few pointers!”

She turned to him with a far less cheerful expression. “*And there’s a lot to go over*.”

Cat Walker felt a flash of annoyance, but pushed it aside. He had places to be anyway and again; there was nothing to be gained from a petty public spat with Ladybug. “I agree, but with the attack over it might be best to table that for later. It’s the middle of the day and I’m sure we all have lives to return to.”

Ryuko was staring at him with some surprise like she expected some protest. Ladybug’s eyes narrowed for a moment before she turned on her heel to put her back to him;

“Sorry for calling you out Ryuko. We’ll talk more later.”

“That’s okay Ladybug, I’m always ready to help when I can.” Ryuko nodded to Ladybug and jumped away. Within seconds she had vanished over the Paris skyline, and with a cold look to prompt him Cat Walker quickly made his own way back to his home.

Ladybug of course was quick behind him and landed in his room just seconds after him.

“Okay let’s get something straight.” Ladybug put her hands on her hips. “Handling the Akumas is *my* job, not anyone else’s. All *you* needed to do was keep Stormy Weather busy for a bit- was that too much to ask for?”

Cat Walker bit back a sharp response and composed himself with arms held behind his back. “I was not aware of the Akuma multiplication, and was a novice fighting alone against what I understand is a *very* dangerous Akuma victim. I apologise for taking matters into my own hands, but there was a genuine risk that I would be neutralised before you returned and this Miraculous would have been lost-”

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore.” Ladybug pointedly held out her hand.

Cat Walker gladly pulled the ring from his finger- and Adrien let loose a gasp of relief as the suit peeled away in magic light.

Again there was that little black cat-thing for a second, but Ladybug practically snatched the ring out of his hand and snapped the box closed before it could say anything. Immediately she turned and zipped out the room without another word.

“… Whatever,” Adrien rolled his eyes, then stumbled as his shoes slipped. “Hey- oh *real mature*.”

Mysteriously enough, the water she’d tracked in from before had remained despite the Miraculous Cure.

Oh well. If nothing else good happened that day; Adrien was pretty sure that it would be the last time Ladybug pulled him into playing bait.

—

It happened again, this time after one of Adrien’s fencing classes.

Her was kind of bored really. Kagami had had to go with her Mom to a trip home in Japan, so he was stuck with opponents who couldn’t really stand a hope against him. He was pretty sure it was arrogant to think so, but Adrien’s many medals kind of proved that he was in another league compared to anyone in his school (most of the country in fact, if his records were true).

Whatever else he could say about Gabriel Agreste, the man had raised him to be damn good at sports (or at least paid other people to do so).

Anyway when the Akuma alert rang out, he wasn’t that bothered. That changed a bit when he was marching to the shelter with the other students though, as the others kept babbling about the heroes and Shadowmoth’s minions like it was a spectator sport;

“… Nekomata’s not been out much lately even though Butterfly man’s really been at it.”

“Think she quit?”

“Maybe, but wasn’t Ladybug already using a bunch of different cats? Could be it’s just not her turn or something.”

“Yeah but Neko’s the best of them by far…”

Adrien resisted the urge to groan. It didn’t pay to let people know you weren’t in on the whole ‘Ladybug craze’. But he couldn’t help but absorb information by osmosis anyway.

Nekomata was the name of the most capable Cat Hero since Chat Noir had retired. But she wasn’t seen that often, instead Ladybug had a bunch of others who she switched in and out with the ring on the regular.

There were theories that she was using her other heroes to hold the ring, since certain cat heroes and other regular heroes were never seen in the same battle-

“… What about that other one, the guy with a ponytail?”

“Yeah I heard he was pretty good. Kicked Stormy Weather’s butt all on his own-”

“Yeah but apparently he screwed up so-”

Whatever his fellow fencers might have thought about Adrien’s alter-ego was lost to time as a high pitched squeal ripped through the building;

“Oh Adrien~~” the squeak turned into a sing-song parody of an alluring voice. “I know you’re in here~~.”

Adrien felt the collective turn their ire against him like he’d called the Akuma to their very school, and he knew in his bones if he didn’t leave of his own volition he’d be thrown to the Akuma as tribute.

“Hunh, fangirl Akuma from the sounds of it,” Adrien chuckled with barely hidden nerves, “I should probably leave before they come here looking-”

“THANKSADRIENYOU’REABRAVEMAN!” There was a garble of shouting voices as they ‘gently’ pushed him out of the designated shelter room and locked the door behind them.

“… You could have at least pretended to object,” Adrien sighed.

Still though, he *did* need to get moving if he didn’t want the Akuma to find him and turn him into a living bodypillow or something even worse.

(Out of curiosity he’d once taken a look at some of the mail his fans sent in before his father’s assistant curated it. *Never again*.)

Fortunately for him, this Akuma was relatively easy to evade once he managed a stealthy look at it. Deranged super-powered cosplayer of some sort from her appearance. And unlike Stormy Weather, her feet were firmly planted on the ground as she marched towards the school entrance.

The solution to escaping (literally) unmolested was a simple one then; when Adrien had first come home he’d found one of his room walls covered with a climbing wall that to his surprise he’d been able to scale with inhuman agility from muscle memory alone. And now in the present that muscle-memory served him well as he slipped away from the school, turned the corner and easily scaled one of the buildings nearby.

The handholds were few and far between, but his body handled them with an ease that still surprised him, and within a minute he was resting on a rooftop facing away from the school: safe from any empowered fangirls who might have designs on him.

For five minutes.

Adrien had closed his eyes and leaned back against the roof tiles to try and get some rest (not easy against said roof-tiles and the screaming coming from his school but what else could he do?) when an annoying familiar *zip* caught his attention. He opened his eyelids to find Ladybug suddenly standing above him on the apex point of the roof, well and truly visible for anyone to see.

Adrien stared at her as she stared down at him.

There was another scream from the school as the Akuma probably did something awful.

Ladybug kept staring at him.

Adrien decided to be a good boy and help the hero so she would leave sooner; “the Akuma’s in the school.” He jammed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Yeah, *I know*.”Ladybug apparently wasn’t deaf, because she responded. There was an amused look in her eyes. “She really wants Adrien Agretse-”

“So I’ve heard,” Adrien cut her off with a shudder. “Why do you think I’m hiding here where she can’t get at me?”

“LADYBUG!” The Akuma’s screeched suddenly confirmed that she’d spotted the hero standing in bright red and black polka-dots against the Paris skyline. “GIVE ME YOUR MIRACULOUS SO I CAN KEEP ADRIEN SAFE!”

“You should get going before she comes here.” Adrien politely but pointedly motioned for her to leave.

A nasty smirk appeared on the heroine’s face though and Ladybug folded her arms and rested back on her heels. Clearly not intending to move even as the Akuma’s voice started getting closer.

“*Now* would be good.” Adrien helpfully pointed out.

“Sorry Adrien,” Ladybug ‘sighed’. “This Akuma’s a tricky one. Any time we get close she mind-controls us into Adrien fanatics We need someone to distract her, to keep her *occupied*-”

“Adrein~~~!” The Akuma was very, very close now. “I can *smell you*~~~”

“-Sorry, but we’re going to need you to keep her attention for a bit.” Ladybug suddenly grabbed Adrien’s collar and lifted him supernatural strength, clearly about to show him to the Akuma. “Just for a minute or two-”

“H-hey!” Adrien slipped himself out of his white coat sleeves and scrambled back on the roof, “why don’t you just use another heroes like usual- whoever’s using the cat ring-”

“Nekomata’s out of town and everyone else is occupied.” Ladybug casually tossed his coat over the edge of the roof, and a delighted squeal confirmed that the Akuma had caught it.

“T-then-” Adrien grit his teeth and whispered. “I’ll do it- just give me the ring and I’ll keep her occupied as Cat Walker.”

“Hmm…” Ladybug exaggerated a thinking pose and tapped her chin, “and why should I let you even touch the ring after last time?”

“Because you need *someone* on the Cat and you know I’m ‘good with the ring’, *remember*?” Adrien insisted.

Ladybug probably would have drawn things out more for whatever gratification she was getting (what, did she really hate blond models or something? Clearly she had an issue with him), but the Akuma was getting closer. And luckily for Adrien Ladybug deigned to allow him to defend himself.

“Alright Cat Walker,” she opened up her yo-yo; “just follow my orders this time okay?”

—

The fanatic Akuma was surprisingly strong, but not necessarily a complicated opponent to fight. All it took was another of Ladybug’s strange plans and a few bruises to Cat Walker’s torso and the embarrassed fangirl was purified.

Unfortunately for Adrien, that wasn’t where it ended.

Sure, Ladybug reclaimed the ring as usual; but Shadowmoth was apparently on a spree. Within an hour there was another Akuma rampaging through the streets, and Ladybug showed found Adrien to practically shove the ring on his finger, clearly under the impression that he owed her for not letting using him as bait for the previous Akuma.

And once that Akuma was done and dusted- the same thing happened. Ring off, Ladybug went away- two hours pass and whoops! There’s another Akuma and Ladybug demands Adrien go play punchingbag for the next Magical Malcontent.

And again.

And *again*.

And every day for a full week, Adrien’s life was consumed by a part-time volunteer position under Ladybug. Shadowmoth had obviously noticed Nekomata’s absence and was trying to take advantage

Apparently after Nekomata, Cat Walker *was* Ladybug’s best cat. But Adrien wasn’t entirely certain she wasn’t just leaving him to risk death and dismemberment for her own petty amusement. Because surely Ladybug’s team had more strategies to occupying the Akuma than ‘leave the cat hero to play for time’; but if they did they weren’t letting him on them.

And for all that Adrien chafed at the role, the remembrance of how Ladybug had very nearly used him as live bait quietened his complaints. He’d been critical of Ladybug’s approach long before he used the ring but he’d known that the crowds at school, the whole of Paris even, unconditionally supported the hero and her team. So he’d long since learned to keep his tongue to himself, even when she ruthlessly engaged in collateral damage that surely had to have involved casualties (even if they were later restored).

But there was a different side to Ladybug, at least for him. Because even if she had a use for him, a *need* for him with Nekomata absent; Ladybug *hated* him for some reason.

Not just in some abstract way like his haters on the internet hated the model boy from the magazines, but something deep and personal. He could feel it when she looked at him, how she talked at him. And he was certain that she wasn’t bluffing when she’d offered to throw him to the Akuma and whatever it might do to him.

So upsetting her by turning down the ring when she wanted to use him was a danger that he knew better than to entertain. So Cat Walker accepted his role as it came, and devoted himself to it with all the professional focus of a man who wanted his job to be done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

And it wasn’t all bad, there was a certain satisfaction in a job well done. In keeping Paris safe and successfully defeating one opponent after another. In the end it wasn’t that different from his martial arts, sports and lessons; there were rules to fighting the varied and strange Akuma, patterns to follow and his body seemed to know by instinct what moves to make. The ring was surely helping him, but there was still that thrill of mastering a new, difficult skill or technique that he usually got from reaching a new level with his other studies.

But the novelty of achieving acrobatics and combinations that no human body (even his that was somehow durable enough to take a fall from his room ceiling with little more than a winding) wasn’t quite enough to offset the drawbacks of being Ladybug’s temporary cat;

—

Ladybug’s plans were *insane*. Just utterly insane.

Somehow they always worked, Adrien couldn’t deny that. But more often than not they worked in *spite* of all logic and reason. And that wasn’t just a gripe of a put-upon minion;

There had to be magic at work, because even outside of the charms themselves, there were times when they used mundane objects as part of said plans and they started acting against conventional physics.

One plan had them fight a massive, Ape-like Akuma by restraining them with a fire-hose Lucky Charm. But they’d fastened the rope around a few matching steel poles;

—

“Ladybug!” Cat Walker sharply warned through the earpiece as he dodged yet another strike from the Akuma, letting a pair of medium-sized mice heroines swiftly encircle the wrist of said Akuma with the long hose. “Those poles won’t hold them!”

“Just do your job Cat.” Ladybug retorted through the earpiece.

“I-”

There was a beep as Ladybug cut him off from the main comms.

All he could do was exactly that, draw the Ape-Akuma’s attention while the rest of the team slowly but surely entangle the Ape’s limbs with the hose. The problem was that in while the Lucky Charm seemed to have some magical property that made it unbreakable even with the Akuma’s strength, the flagpoles they were anchoring the hose to were surely going to be torn out the second the rope went taut.

After all, the strength to break stone slabs with ease wasn’t just going to be held back with whatever cheap steel went into making a flagpole.

And yet…

When the time came and Ladybug called out; “PULL!”

The Ape was entrapped in a tight trap, and the flagpoles didn’t so much as *bend* despite the combined tension from multiple heroes and the Ape’s own strength against them. The Wasp hero- Vesperia- dropped in a second later and the battle was over.

(Why hadn’t they just used Vesperia from the start?)

—

A day later, and there was another plan, this time more risky than irrational.

This time it was some kind of bug person who was invulnerable from any point but the top of their head. Again, Cat Walker was on distraction duty while Ladybug pulled together another plan.

This time the Lucky Charm was a drone. A fully functioning drone that Ladybug insisted on flying up on over the Akuma so she could drop down from it while someone else he couldn’t see operated it.

Considering how fast the humanoid bug-thing was, it didn’t seem like a good idea.

Again it seemed like an obvious solution to just have Vesperia paralyze the Akuma, or maybe he could have made a pit to trap the Akuma with the Cataclysm power.

But again, through pure Luck and a well timed verbal barb to get the thing’s attention: it somehow worked out.

—

Finally there was the quiz Akuma, the with the game-based powers that Ladybug decided they would play against.

The victim was a teacher from Dupont, apparently one who was very, *very* done with her students cheating on their tests. She’d turned one of the classes into some facsimile of a gameshow with her students becoming a literal captive audience and was broadcasting it to the whole of Paris.

The Akumatized object was one of the prizes and they have to put up their own Miraculous as collateral to play. Cat Walker didn’t care for game shows in the first place and suggested a direct approach;

“The Akuma appears to have no real combat ability,” Cat Walker observed, “if Vesperia-”

“We’ve gone over this, Vesperia has *one* shot with her power- just like everyone else so we need to make it count!” Ladybug snapped back, “and Akumas like this usually have some trick to stop us from just marching and taking their object!”

Cat Walker stepped back to avoid agitating the clearly irritated heroine. He couldn’t say Ladybug was *wrong*; at this point he was well aware Vesperia’s sting was only effective if the Akuma was too distracted or occupied to dodge her obvious lunges (though really if he were ever asked he’d have to say that it was a *problem* that Vesperia needed so much significant setup from the rest of the team to use her power at all- maybe her Miraculous would have been better suited to someone with better agility and hand-to-hand combat prowess). And he was a novice at Akuma battles so he couldn’t dispute her instincts about the more abstract Akumas.

However…

“I understand Ladybug,” he assured her. “But what is stopping the Akuma from rigging their own game? Is there some rule that the Akuma’s power have to be *fair*?”

“Heh, no.” Ladybug actually laughed at that, then turned to him with a smirk; “but who says *we* have to play fair either?”

Cat Walker raised an eyebrow, “Ladybug?”

“Just put your earpiece in and listen to Viperion,” Ladybug stepped back and pushed Cat Walker towards the classroom.

Viperion as it turned out, was a snake hero and he was with someone who went by ‘Pegasus’ (no prizes to guess his animal theme) who was himself using a laptop. And they were going to help Cat Walker *cheat*.

“Ahh, our first contestant!” The Akuma smiled in her gaudy pinstriped suit. “The Black Cat du jour, such a shame for such a stunning career to be cut so short, but it would be a crime not to see that handsome face on TV!

Just remember, no backing out and no tricks or it’s game over~~” The Presenter turned to her audience, “but don’t worry, you’ll have one of the best seats in town!”

A spotlight magically appeared over an unoccupied seat, in the middle of a sea of very occupied seats holding visibly disturbed and helpless teenagers.

Well, at least Adrien would have company if Ladybug’s plan fell though.

—

The game had four rounds for increasingly more valuable prizes, and by increasingly valuable that meant wonderful things like hall passes, study guides, an honor roll and the actual Akumatized object (an answer sheet). Of course to play, Cat Walker had to be willing to wager his Miraculous every time, and while he didn’t have to take it off he was quite certain that the Akuma’s own magic would claim it if he failed anyway.

Fortunately, the format was easy. Just answer a question correctly, and Cat Walker would advance to the next round. Fail, and Cat Walker instantly lost, no surprises there.

Still, even though the first two questions were easy enough (just obscure trivia tangentially related to Dupont’ curriculum) before Viperion and Pegasus gave him the answers.

Round three is when things became difficult;

“Stop, Cat Walker!” Viperion’s voice was suddenly sharp in his ear- a distinct shift from his easy-going tone a moment ago; “Presenter is going to check you for cheating in a few seconds, you need to get rid of the earpiece!”

Cat Walker’s eyes widened, but recovered as Viperion continued; “I just turned back time, she’ll confiscate your Miraculous in front of Paris!”

“Turn back ti-” Cat Walker caught himself as his gasp caught The Presenter’s attention.

“Turn back *what* Mr Walker?” The Presenter’s eyes focused on him like hawk, “is there something you want to share with the rest of us?”

The Akuma was rapidly approaching, and Cat Walker had no good options-

If the Akuma could take the ring from cheating then fighting would surely count, dropping the earpiece would be too noticeable, he needed a distraction- no, he had to *make* a distraction!

“Oh don’t mind me,” he chuckled, “I was just thinking that I should have turned back home for an umbrella, the weather’s about to make a downpour, it’s a good thing that…”

He pulled his baton from his back and the Akuma’s eyes locked on it, he a pressed a button and…

The tip extended about half a metre into the air to their side.

“Oh…” Cat Walker mumbled.

“Was that supposed to do something?” The Presenter seemed amused.

“I was hoping it would turn into an umbrella,” Cat Walker sighed, and brushed his hand over his ear like he was pushing back a stray hair. “I heard it could do that kind of thing.”

He pressed the same button, and the baton briefly extended again. “Ah, excuse me for a moment,” he brought both hands to the controls and seemed to struggle to compact his own weapon.

“Well it would be bad luck anyway!” The Presented rolled her eyes at his obvious ineptitude. With her attention diverted, Cat Walker nimbly slid the earpiece into baton’s compartment and snapped it closed before replacing it to his back.

Needless to say, The Presenter’s cheat-check a moment later failed to disqualify him.

Round Three was fortunately easy again, at least for him. Just English, and that was one of Adrien’s first languages (at least according to Gabriel Agreste).

Round Four was when things very nearly went awry.

“Alright Mr Walker, you’re clearly a very smart boy,” the Akuma purred and her eyes brightened; “so why don’t you come up and show us how it’s done!”

She stepped aside and whiteboard appeared where she’d been a moment ago, she held out a marker with clear glee.

The Whiteboard showed a deceptively simple equation:

xn+yn=zn

Cat Walker sighed to himself. He’d been correct, the Akuma had no intention of playing fair.

“What’s the matter Mr Walker?” The Present chortled. “It’s just *maths*!”

“I would hardly call Fermat’s Last Theorem ‘just maths’ dear lady.” Cat Walker approached.

“Oh, you *know* what this is?” The Presenter’s eyes gleamed as she held out the marker, “don’t worry I’m *sure* you can solve…”

Her words trailed off as Cat Walker gently took the marker from her hand, and too her absolute shock he started writing letters on the board;

“What are you…?” Her eyes followed the diagram as he drew out a diagram.

“Apologies, but unless you have a larger whiteboard you’ll have to accept this” Cat Walker had no intention of simply giving up, but he’d couldn’t exactly recall a hundred page document of advanced mathematics from memory. “Wiles and Taylor’s proof is a bit wordy.”

It was all presentation. The proof had been but one of Adrien Agreste’s electric collection of interesting documents that his amnesiac self had found (apparently he’d liked obscure trivia), but even with his more than decent mathematical skills he wouldn’t be able crack such a proof without a lifetime of prep. But what he was, was in close range of the Akuma and her prize, and lacking any better options he was certain he could at least try to Cataclysm the gleaming cage just behind her and destroy the answer sheet before she claimed the ring.

But that wasn’t necessary, as the Akuma’s eyes widened; “it… it’s been solved?”

Her voice was weak.

“Yes, quite famously so.” Cat Walker assured her. “You can check me if you like.”

The Presenter closed her eyes, and Cat Walker prepared to pounce, but he was startled as the answer sheet vanished with a glow and appeared in his hands.

“Well, that’s game and match then,” The Presenter chuckled and a wave of dark bubbles washed over her as a butterfly escaped from the sheet.

—

Ladybug’s plans worked.

Somehow.

Somehow they *always* worked. Even when they were needlessly risky, implausible, or just impractical.

Even when they *shouldn’t.*

Just how much of Paris’ safety was dependent on Ladybug’s good luck carrying them?

What would happen if that luck ran out?

#Marinette salt #Adrien sugar #submission

33 notes · View notes