#that passion held on this is undeniable!

[astrxlfinale]

Pain like this he understood all too well. The days of the Genius's Society's favorite pet project, how the tuning of specifics, random chance, and so many smaller obstacles leading to this utter tsunami of spiritual devastation.

So to see Fischl bonding with the floor felt-- not fitting, but understandable. In the way he'd come to sit down next to her, taking the moment to softly brush a hand across her blond hair, a familiar branch of strokes designed to comfort.

Not to mention that boss on the 'YOU DIED' screen certainly looked like a whole bag of fuck.

Caelus doesn't like bags of fuck.

"Here here. Kicking that ass is only a matter of due time. How about we get'cha recharging a touch more on the meantime?" With that said, he'd proceed to star fish right next to her.

"Would a kiss make get'cha spirits back up?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The noise she makes in response to the...

⠀⠀⠀⠀She wouldn't call them words of encouragement, not in her current mental state, but they are definitely words and meant to be encouraging.

⠀⠀⠀⠀...Well, it's not exactly a noise fitting a self-proclaimed 'prinzessin'. Definitely not a happy noise.

"Ghh... Yeah, sure... Stupid boss..."

⠀⠀⠀⠀Fischl is not a good gamer, that much is sure. A shame she got into gaming because of a certain Stellaron Hunter and justified it as a method to 'test her arm calibration' and got stuck on the same boss for six hours.

"Uuugh...."

⠀⠀⠀⠀Hands drag over her face, and she flops dramatically back on the floor. Who even DESIGNED that hitbox?!

[plutonianeris]

Asteroid Lilith (1181)

Asteroid Lilith in the houses of your natal chart brings up themes of independence, rebellion, and primal feminine energy.

With Lilith in your 1st House, you are the storm that cannot be contained. You stride into spaces, and the air crackles with your presence. Eyes are drawn to you, not just in awe but in reverence, because you carry a power that is both undeniable and untamed. You break the mold of what the world expects, shattering conventions with every step. You are not here to conform; you are here to redefine. Your very existence is a rebellion, a statement that you will never be controlled or confined.

In the 2nd House, Lilith is the fire that burns through the chains of dependency. You demand freedom in the realm of resources and self-worth, craving independence like oxygen. Your relationship with money and possessions is a reflection of your inner rebellion—there is no value to you in material things unless they symbolize your autonomy. You rewrite the rules of what it means to be secure, standing tall in the knowledge that your worth is beyond measure, unbound by society's definition of success.

Lilith in the 3rd House gives your voice a sharp edge, like a blade cutting through the noise. You speak truths others shy away from, your words charged with the kind of power that demands attention. There is no space for the ordinary in your mind; you are a disruptor of thought, challenging outdated beliefs and lighting fires in the hearts of those willing to listen. You are the voice of the unspoken, the whisper of revolution carried on the wind.

With Lilith rooted in the 4th House, home is not a place you inherit—it’s something you create on your own terms. You are the breaker of family patterns, the one who refuses to be held by the weight of tradition. Your emotional independence is fierce, like an ancient forest that grows wild and free, untethered by expectations. You carve out a sanctuary that reflects your soul’s desire for freedom, where no one can dictate what “family” or “home” should mean to you.

In the 5th House, Lilith dances with fire. Your creativity is electric, unchained, and your approach to love is nothing short of revolutionary. You live for passion that breaks the rules, for art that shocks the senses. There’s an intoxicating wildness in how you love and create—you do not follow paths, you blaze new ones. Every romance, every creative act, is an expression of your refusal to be anything less than fully, fiercely alive.

Lilith in the 6th House rebels against the grind, the monotony, the soul-crushing routines of the conventional world. You cannot be tamed by authority or confined by clocked hours; your spirit demands freedom in your work. Your approach to health mirrors this autonomy—there’s a deep wisdom in how you care for yourself, often turning to holistic or alternative paths that honor your need for balance outside the norm. You are not here to merely survive—you are here to thrive, on your own terms.

In the 7th House, Lilith brings the storm to your relationships. You are not interested in partnerships that bind or restrict—you crave equality, freedom, and intensity in every connection. Power struggles may arise, but they only serve to remind you of the sacred fire within that refuses to be dimmed. You seek relationships that elevate and liberate, where love is not a chain but a dance of two souls who choose to be free together.

Lilith in the 8th House is the embodiment of your deepest, most primal desires. You are drawn to the taboo, the hidden, the places others fear to explore. Power, sexuality, and transformation are your realms, and you navigate them with a fearless heart. In the depths of intimacy, you find your strength, exploring the darker edges of life with a sense of purpose. This placement asks you to embrace the shadows, to find the magic that lies within the mystery of your soul.

Lilith in the 9th House is the wild sage, the wanderer who refuses to be tied to any dogma or rigid belief. You are a seeker of truth, but not the kind written in stone. You crave freedom in your exploration of life’s philosophies, pushing beyond the boundaries of conventional wisdom. Spirituality, travel, and education are sacred to you—but only when they allow you to soar, unchained and untamed, toward the horizons that call your name.

In the 10th House, Lilith challenges you to tear down the walls of the conventional career. You will not be bound by society’s narrow definitions of success. There’s a wild ambition here, one that seeks not to fit in but to break free. You are a force of disruption in the public sphere, unafraid to challenge authority and redefine what it means to stand in your power. You don’t just play the game—you change the rules entirely.

With Lilith in the 11th House, you are the rebel within the collective. Social norms and group expectations feel like shackles to you, and you refuse to be anything less than your authentic self. You are drawn to causes and communities that reflect your own wild, progressive ideals, but even here, you challenge groupthink. You push others to think differently, to embrace their uniqueness, and to stand tall in their individuality, just as you do.

In the 12th House, Lilith pulls you into the depths of your own psyche. You are no stranger to the shadows, to the hidden parts of yourself that others may fear. Here, you find power in the unconscious, in the dreams and mysteries that swirl beneath the surface of life. This is where you confront your deepest fears, your buried desires, and your untapped potential. Lilith guides you to embrace the darkness within, to find liberation in the unseen forces that shape your reality.

[nausicaaandhermouth]

A Kiss For Loyalty

masterlist

young!silco x gn!reader [1.2k][AO3]

summary: You find him after the attack on the bridge, and you're left to figure out how to tread the fragile state of him.

tags: young silco, a few hours after vander tries to drown him, angst, established relationship, hurt silco, not betad

a/n: mid-lecture we were looking at photos of gash wounds and i couldn't help but think of young silco's face fresh after the drowning, so ofc i had to write a comfort fic for him. kinda comfort. it's mostly angst.

Vander couldn’t look you in the eye, couldn’t form a single word. And at first, worry was what overtook you—Silco hadn’t survived, lost in the fight. But the more you looked at the larger man who had returned, the more you recognised something else: the aftereffect when he’d had too much to drink, had raised his voice, had felt guilty. Regret.

You find Silco in your bedroom, curled up on the worn mattress that had held you both some countless nights. It had overheard the visions for your new nation, the sloppy passion of drunken evenings, the quiet rise and fall of breaths during winter. Now it’s witnessing something new.

You’ve never heard Silco cry. Your bedroom shrinks at the sound of it, as if the corners darken and round themselves to hold and hush him. It’s a sharp sting, an undeniably pained cry bleeding into his palm, cupped around his mouth.

When you approach, you’re silent—assessing, investigating, worrying if this isn’t something you can fix. He’s never been so evidently broken. You’re not sure whether it’s about Vander or at the failure of their uprising, both of which had taken a large portion of his heart.

“Silco?” you whisper, taking another step forward.

“Don’t,” he manages, his sobs becoming quieter, but affecting his breath, bubbling out of him in squeaks and chokes. “Please,”

You shake your head, keeping your ground but keeping your eyes on him. He’s refusing to remove his reddened hands from his face, his hair curtaining over his left side, black, wet strings.

“You’re hurt,” you furrow, focusing on the blood down his hand. You rush forward, chest attempting to wrangle in a frenzied heart. “Show me, hey, S—”

“Stop!” he inches away from you, a childlike recoil that makes you freeze.

It’s a foreign behaviour, a desperation he’s never worn, never come close to mimicking. As far as you’ve known him he’s been the opposite. Even in pain, he stitched together a composure so convincing it made others doubt he could ever truly feel the hurt he was raised around.

You suppose that it’s something he’s worked on, refined throughout the years after taking on the responsibility of becoming Zaun’s face, alongside Vander. His ideologies had spilled straight from his heart into your ear. You understood why he worked so hard to maintain a strong face.

That man was gone; he hadn't entered the room this time.

He’s hiding, you see, shielding his face from you. This, you understand, is something he thinks may spare you from even a fraction of the pain he must be feeling. He’s always been so. To hoard the suffering and smile.

“You don’t want me to see you?” you ask, kneeling by the bed and retracting your hands.

Silco doesn’t answer, the chokes of suppressed sobs the only sound from him.

“It’s alright,” with a shake of your head, you turn around, facing the other way and leaning against the bed. “I don’t have to see you. Just… just talk to me,”

You wait a beat, then another, waiting for his voice, willing his voice to regard you again. Anything with a meaning that you could warp into a sign of hope.

“Please,” you add. It’s unintentionally desperate, pleading, giving him the power of controlling where the conversation goes. Something he needs, you suppose, something he’s certain is still predictable.

You hear a sharp breath behind you, then the shuffle of your bedsheets. Your eyes slide the farthest they can without turning your head, attempting to see any glimpse of him.

Then his hand enters your periphery, pale skin against scarlet, fingers twitching and shaking as his forearm rests on your shoulder.

You take gentle hold of his hand, turning it this way and that in search for wounds. But nothing. “Who…” your breath escapes, “Is this your blood?”

“Yes,” he responds, a word that pricks at your lungs sharply.

You see the moment clearer now. A wound so deep that to reveal it is its own pain.

You recall Vander’s face. The shame that distorted his features, how ugly it becomes as you try to piece together the fragmented pieces. 

“Vander did something,” you surmise. Your breath quickens, a sneer creating brackets around your flared nostrils. “Did Vander do something?”

You feel Silco’s breath near the top of your head, but before you’re able to turn, a weight settles over you. Momentarily, you hold, letting the firmness of his muscles process on your body, around your shoulders, his other arm snaking over your bones and holding you backwards to him.

You hear his soft sniffs over your head and slightly to one side, the bone of his cheek pressing against your crown.

There it is again. It’s a spear through your body, the sound of him. It strikes a fissure along your lungs, each sudden inhale a crack veining in your airways, each tremoring breath he takes an earthquake on your skull. Vander, what have you done?

You take his hand and hold it to your cheek, the cool back of his hand against the warm apple of your face. You interlace your fingers, a familiar practice, just as fluid as the locking of legs in the night, or the pressing of palms for a prayer.

Next was the chaste kiss on his index knuckle, for loyalty. Then on the middle knuckle, for liberty. Another on the ring knuckle, for luck. And lastly, a kiss on the pinky knuckle, for love.

It was a silent conversation he and you had made, meeting mouth to bone always easier than devoting a voice to each word.

His other hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing your arm upwards and over your head, your own knuckles meeting his familiar lips. But they tremble.

He breathes a kiss, gentle, on your index knuckle, starting, then failing. His breath falls jagged on your skin.

For a moment he restarts, the warmth of his air hovering over your knuckle. But again he fails.

Your frown deepens. Even more so when he moves your hand and skips to your pinky knuckle, the only promise fulfilled.

“How bad is it?” your voice slightly muffles against his hand near your mouth.

He swallows, clearing his throat. “At the… we were at the river, he—” he grips your hand slightly tighter.

“It’s still hurting?”

His clothes shuffle. “Yeah,”

“Let me look?”

Silence.

You start to think he’ll reject you again, not yet prepared to face you in whatever shape Vander had left him. But he loosens his arm around your shoulders and moves away, his presence at your back fading.

Your other hand remains in his, the anchor, as you shift on the floor and turn.

You look up and your eyes meet. No. One eye meets yours.

You sense his panic by how the one remaining blue jumps between your eyes, tips of his mouth downwards. He brushes aside his wet hair.

The left side of his face had been marred, a trench of exposed muscle, skin, and blood bared at you. The blackened sclera is haunting, a flame moving in tandem with the watery blue of his other eye.

You’re more than certain there’s nothing but indignation gushing through your veins. Yet, Silco remains beautiful. You realised a long time ago it was difficult for him to not be, no matter the state of him. And still now, left eye diseased with the molten of betrayal, mouth frowned by grief, fear in his good eye.

“It’s not over,” he whispers, leaning forward as you reach up and cup the unmarred side of him. “We’ll take back Zaun,”

There he is. No man, no river, could ever kill him. “You’ll show them,” you press a kiss to his index knuckle.

[mononijikayu]

amnesia — ryomen sukuna.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.” You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: sfw, fluff, angst, romance, hurt/ comfort, post - break up, amnesia, hurt, physical touch, memory loss, sadness, pain, pining, slowly getting back together, light-hearted, happy ending, getting back together, depictions of amnesia, depiction of pining, mention of grief, mention of accident, mention of pining, ex-boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! ex-girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 9.9k words

NOTE: the entire chapter is a sequel to drunk tonight and is set five years later. sukuna won second place at the poll again and i feel like this is my apology for sukuna for always making him an angst main lead. this was inspired by a filipino film called amnesia girl and its a funny drama-romcom. its available on youtube, but i dont know if there's subtitles!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i hope you know how much i love yall 🫶🫶🫶

ADDENDUM: so......so long sukuna??? (manga readers iykyk)

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 1000;

if you want to, tip!

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HE LIKED TO THINK HE COUNTED THE HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN WELL. Five long and painful years ago, you and Sukuna parted ways in what felt like an explosion of unresolved emotions and unmet expectations. Your relationship had been a tempestuous blend of fiery passion and constant turbulence, a rollercoaster of intense highs and devastating lows. From the beginning, it was clear that both of you had strong personalities, often clashing in ways that seemed impossible to reconcile.

The reasons for the breakup were numerous and complex. There was the perpetual danger that came with Sukuna's world, a constant reminder that you were living on the edge, with no guarantee of safety or stability. His life was fraught with peril, and the reality of that danger had taken its toll on both of you. You both knew that living under such stress was unsustainable, and it began to fray the bonds that had once held you together.

Your expectations, too, weighed heavily on the relationship. You had dreams and aspirations that seemed at odds with the life you were leading alongside Sukuna. The demands of his world often overshadowed your own needs, leading to a sense of neglect and disillusionment. It felt as though you were always putting yourself second, trying to accommodate the chaos that was Sukuna's life while struggling to maintain your own sense of self.

Despite the chaos and the inevitable breakdown, there was an undeniable connection between you—a bond that neither of you could completely sever. It was a connection that defied logic, a thread that seemed to pull you back together despite all efforts to move on. Both of you had tried to let go, to walk away and start anew, but the lingering feelings and shared history made it nearly impossible to fully break free.

Sukuna, in his own way, struggled with this as well. Even though the relationship had reached its breaking point, he found himself unable to completely let go of what you had shared. He was deeply aware of the toll that the relationship had taken on you, and he knew that you needed to prioritize yourself, your own well-being, and your own path forward. It was a painful realization, one that left him feeling hollow and lost, but he was determined not to be the reason you couldn't move forward.

In his mind, letting you go was the only way to truly show his love for you—to give you the space you needed to heal and grow. Even if it meant enduring his own misery, he accepted that it was a sacrifice he had to make. He knew that holding on would only serve to drag you both down further, and he wasn't willing to be the obstacle in your pursuit of happiness.

So, as time passed and the separation became a part of your history, Sukuna endured his own internal struggle. He remained in the shadows of your life, silently wishing for your happiness while grappling with his own feelings of loss and regret. He respected your decision and tried to move forward, even as he kept a part of himself tied to the memories of what once was.

But even then, you were truly something that made his life more than it was. You were the blossoms of his youth, the hope and vibrancy that had once colored his world. Your presence had breathed life into the mundane, transforming his days from mere existence into something filled with possibility and wonder. 

His elder brother Jin had seen it all those years ago, recognizing the profound impact you had on Sukuna. Jin had often remarked on how you were a beacon of hope, a light that guided Sukuna through the darkest corners of his life. Your influence was undeniable, a force that had shaped him in ways he could hardly articulate.

Yet despite the depth of his feelings and the significance of what you had shared, Sukuna couldn’t escape the gnawing belief that he had ultimately failed you. He carried with him the heavy burden of the notion that he wasn’t good enough—never had been, never would be. The weight of this conviction was a constant companion, a shadow that loomed over every thought and action.

He remembered the countless moments of doubt, the times when he felt that his flaws, his imperfections, and the dangers of his world were too great a burden for you to bear. It was a painful realization, one that left him grappling with feelings of inadequacy. He wanted to be the person who could give you everything you deserved—love, stability, safety. But he feared that he fell short, that he could never truly be the partner you needed.

Even as he watched you move forward, find your own path, and build a life without him, he was haunted by the belief that he had let you down. He was acutely aware of all the ways he had failed to meet your expectations, to protect you from the chaos that had once defined your life together. He thought that perhaps he had been too caught up in his own struggles, too consumed by the demands of his world to fully appreciate what he had with you.

In his quieter moments, Sukuna wrestled with the idea that he would never be good enough for you, that he would never be able to offer you the kind of love and life you truly deserved. This belief became a part of him, shaping how he viewed himself and how he measured his worth. He felt that he had lost you not because of any one mistake or shortcoming, but because he was fundamentally flawed, incapable of providing the kind of relationship you needed.

And so, even as he grappled with his own pain and regrets, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were better off without him. The memory of what you had shared lingered like a bittersweet echo, a reminder of what could have been and what was lost. He had to come to terms with the fact that he might never be able to offer you the life you deserved, and that acceptance was a hard, painful lesson he had to learn.

Sukuna's struggle with these feelings was a testament to the depth of his love for you, a love that, despite its imperfections and its failures, had once been a source of profound meaning and transformation in his life. Even as he moved forward, he carried the weight of this truth with him—a reminder of what you had meant to him and the painful realization that, perhaps, he would never truly be good enough to have you back.

Sukuna sat in the corner of the room, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, as he listened to his friend's banter. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in years. Gojo, with his usual grin, was recounting some ridiculous tale of his latest escapade, while Uraume, ever the quiet observer, occasionally chimed in with dry comments that had the others laughing.

But Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention. His mind kept drifting back to you—to the way your eyes had softened when you told him you wanted to give “us” a real chance, to the way you’d leaned into him, trusting and vulnerable in a way that made his chest tighten.

“Oi, Sukuna. You’re….” Gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, bud. What's got you all broody, huh?”

Sukuna blinked, realizing he’d been staring into his glass for who knows how long. He knows he spaces out when he’s thinking, but when he’s thinking of you — he suppose the time can go on and he wouldn’t even notice. He looked up to find Gojo’s bright blue eyes fixed on him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Uraume was watching him too, their expression unreadable but attentive.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Sukuna muttered, taking a sip of his drink. “Just thinking.”

“That’s a first from you, hm.”  Uraume teased, earning a snort from Gojo.

“Come on, spill it!” Gojo pressed, leaning forward with that infuriatingly playful grin. “Is it a girl? I don’t mind if it’s a guy, I know you swing that way too! Oh, wait… don’t tell me it’s the girl.”

Sukuna’s dark scarlet eyes narrowed at him. “What are you talking about?”

Gojo’s grin widened. “The one you’ve been moping about for the last five years. Don’t think I didn’t notice, Sukuna. You’ve been different at work lately—quieter, more… I don’t know, introspective.”

“Gojo–san’s right, Sukuna–san.” Uraume added, their tone softer. “You’ve changed. It’s like you’re finally letting go of whatever it was that had you so wound up.”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of their words settle over him. He wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of their scrutiny, and he didn’t like it. But he also knew they weren’t wrong.

“Yeah, well……” Sukuna began, his voice rough, “I haven't seen her in a long while.. Five years, I think. But I heard…I heard she’s been around. She’s moved around town.”

Uraume raised their eyebrows. “Five years? That’s a long time, Sukuna–san.”

“Yeah. We were together throughout our senior high school and college. Then we broke up after we graduated.” Sukuna sighed, taking a long sip of his drink. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat, but it did little to ease the ache that had settled in his chest. “It’s been a long time, but… hearing that she’s moved here just brings back a lot.”

Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Was that breakup really that bad?” His usual grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he sensed the gravity of Sukuna’s words. “What happened?”

Sukuna nodded, his gaze drifting away from Gojo’s intense stare. The room seemed to grow quieter as he delved into the past, the weight of his memories heavy in his voice. “We had multiple breakups. It wasn’t just one—there were several. But the last one was particularly rough. We both cried a lot, said things we didn’t mean. It was messy.”

Gojo leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Why was it so difficult?”

Sukuna’s face tightened as he struggled to find the right words. “If I’m being honest, it’s my fault. I wasn’t secure in myself. I was jealous, possessive. I couldn’t handle the idea of her moving forward or being happy without me. And that jealousy, that insecurity—it hurt her more than I realized.”

There was a long pause as Sukuna’s confession hung in the air. Gojo’s usual bravado was replaced by a rare, contemplative silence. He took a moment to process Sukuna’s admission, trying to reconcile the man he knew with the vulnerability being revealed.

“That’s a lot to carry,” Gojo said finally, his voice softer than usual. “But it sounds like you’re taking responsibility, which is more than a lot of people do.”

Sukuna’s expression was a mix of regret and acceptance. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t change the past. I know I hurt her, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that fully. But seeing her again… it’s brought everything back. The pain, the regret, and the memories of what we had.”

Uraume, who had been quietly listening, spoke up, their tone gentle. “It’s clear you’re still affected by this. Maybe it’s a chance for you to make things right, or at least find some closure. People change, and sometimes, revisiting the past can help us understand ourselves better.”

Sukuna nodded, though his expression remained somber. “Maybe. I’m not sure what will come of this. I just know that seeing her again made me realize how much I still care, how much I’ve changed, and how much I wish things could have been different.”

Gojo leaned back, his eyes thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and maybe this is a chance for you to show her the person you’ve become. It might not fix everything, but it could be a step toward healing—for both of you.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe. It’s worth a shot.”

The room fell silent, the playful atmosphere dissolving as the weight of Sukuna's words sank in. Even Gojo, who was usually quick with a joke or a teasing remark, seemed at a loss for what to say. His usual bravado was replaced with something more thoughtful, almost solemn, as he processed what Sukuna had just revealed.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft clink of ice in Sukuna's glass as he set it down on the table. He could feel the eyes of his friends on him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the drink, not ready to meet their concerned looks just yet. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken emotions.

“I hope the best for you, man.” Gojo finally muttered, leaning back in his chair as he exhaled slowly. His tone was softer than usual, lacking its typical teasing edge. “You deserve to be happy too.”

Sukuna snickered. “You must be drunk being this nice to me.”

“Hey! I am nice at all times.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

Uraume, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward slightly, their expression gentle and understanding. They had always been more in tune with Sukuna's moods, more aware of the nuances in his behavior than Gojo, who often masked his own sensitivity with humor.

“If you bump into her again, though….” Uraume asked, their tone devoid of judgment, only curiosity and concern. “Would you try and talk to her, then?”

Sukuna finally looked up, meeting Uraume’s gaze. There was a hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still grappling with the reality of it all. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low, almost as if admitting it aloud made it more real. “I would. In a drop of a hat.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. It wasn’t just the fact that you had come back into his life; it was the realization that despite everything, despite the time and distance, Ryomen Sukuna had never really let go of you. He had buried those feelings deep, tried to move on, but now that you were here again, they had all come rushing back to the surface.

Gojo watched Sukuna carefully, his usual smirk gone, replaced with a rare expression of empathy. He knew Sukuna better than most, knew how much pride had always driven him, how hard it had been for him to admit his feelings even when things were good between the two of you. For Sukuna to open up like this now, it meant that whatever he was feeling ran deep.

“I get it.” Gojo said, his voice unusually quiet. “I mean, you guys were… well, you were everything to each other. It makes sense that she’s still on your mind.”

Uraume nodded in agreement. “It’s not surprising that you still think about her, Sukuna–san. What you had wasn’t just something you can forget, even if you wanted to.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring off into the distance as if trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s just… weird.” he finally said, his voice thick with the frustration he’d been holding back. “I’ve been trying to move on, to put all of that behind me. But I just….I want to see her again. Even just one more time.”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded Sukuna with a serious expression. “Maybe you’re not supposed to forget, man. Maybe this is your chance to figure out what you really want, to make things right.”

Uraume added quietly, “It’s not too late to change the narrative, Sukuna. If you still care about her, if she’s still on your mind after all this time, maybe there’s something there worth exploring.”

Sukuna closed his eyes for a moment, taking in their words. There was truth in what they were saying, and he knew it. He had spent so long trying to bury his feelings, convincing himself that it was over and done with. But the truth was, he had never truly moved on. And now, with you back in his life, even in this new, unfamiliar way, he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward you.

When he opened his eyes, there was a resolve in them that hadn’t been there before. “You’re probably right.” he admitted, his voice steady. “I’ve been running from this for too long. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need to see this through. I owe it to myself, and… to her.”

Gojo’s grin returned, but it was softer, more genuine. “That’s the spirit, man. You’ve got this. Just… don’t screw it up this time, okay?”

Sukuna let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ll try not to.”

Uraume smiled softly, a rare display of emotion from them. “We’re here for you, Sukuna–san. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

Sukuna nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t alone in this. With Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next, even if it meant confronting the feelings he had buried for so long.

One more drink and  the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, the tension that had hung in the air slowly dissipated. But the resolve in Sukuna’s heart remained, stronger than ever. He knew what he had to do, and for the first time in years, he felt ready to face it head-on,

As the night wore on, Sukuna couldn’t help but think about the future—about what it would be like to build something real with you this time, something lasting. The thought scared him, but it also excited him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Maybe, just maybe, this time he could get it right. And with Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he wouldn’t have to do it alone. But the hour is late. And they’ve got things going on in their lives too. So they pay their bills and wave him goodbye.

As he watches his comrades pair off, he is forced to confront a painful truth. Despite years of searching, no one has been able to replace you. The women he's met, the flings he's had—they were all distractions, mere shadows compared to what he had with you. Each time he tries to move forward, your memory pulls him back, the echo of your laughter, the way you challenged him like no one else ever did, and the warmth you once brought into his life, all refuse to fade.

In quiet moments, when he's alone, Ryomen Sukuna wrestles with the possibility that his true love, the one person who could truly understand and match his intensity, might have been you all along. The very thought frustrates and angers him, but deep down, he knows it's true. The idea that you could be happy with someone else, that you could have moved on, is a bitter pill to swallow.

But what can he do? Could he really go back to you after all this time, after all the hurt and pride that kept you apart? The thought of reaching out, of admitting that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you, is terrifying in its vulnerability. Yet, the more he tries to resist, the more he finds himself wanting you back in his life.

Sukuna has always been a man of action, but this...this is different. It's not about power or control; it's about something far more fragile—his heart, his pride, and the chance of losing you all over again. The question that haunts him now is whether he can swallow that pride and take the risk, whether he can open himself up to the possibility that, just maybe, what he’s been searching for all these years was right in front of him all along.

And that possibility, terrifying as it may be, is the only thing that has ever truly scared him.

Sukuna's inner turmoil grows as the days pass. The world around him, once filled with the thrill of battles and the allure of endless conquests, now feels hollow and cold. He notices how his friends look at him, their eyes reflecting pity and concern. They know him too well, aware that behind his sharp words and defiant attitude, something is eating away at him.

He tries to brush it off, burying himself in work, in fights, in anything that will distract him. But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts keep circling back to you. The memories come unbidden—your smile, the way you used to tease him, the way you understood him in a way no one else ever did. It's maddening, the way you haunt him, and yet he can't bring himself to let you go.

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IT WAS UNEXPECTED. It was that sort of day once again. Sukuna found himself in charge of his energetic nephew, Yuji, who had just been picked up from school. With his brother Jin and sister-in-law Kaori and Choso tied up with commitments for the weekend, Sukuna was left to manage Yuji. Given that he didn’t have to hit the gym or deal with work obligations that day, it seemed like a manageable task.

Ryomen Sukuna’s house was usually a quiet refuge from his chaotic world, but today it felt oddly empty. He doesn’t really like decorating that much, mostly because he has no time and mostly because he really doesn’t feel like it. But his nephew doesn’t seem to mind it every time he’s here. If there was something to distract the brat, then he doesn’t pay attention to everything else. Well, that and food. As he settled Yuji into the living room, Yuji’s curiosity quickly turned to hunger.

“Uncle Sukuna, I’m starving.” Yuji announced, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Do you have any natto? I could really go for some.”

Sukuna blinked, momentarily confused. “Natto? I don’t think I have any. Let me check.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside. His search yielded nothing but a few cans of expired beans and a half-eaten pizza box. Sukuna eats out most of the time, because of work. If he does buy anything, it would be from the last time Yuji was here. And that was….a while ago. And just as much, there was no natto in sight.

“Uh, brat, I think we’re out of natto.” Sukuna said, returning to the living room with a sheepish grin. “And it looks like the rest of the fridge is pretty bare.”

Yuji’s eyes widened in disappointment. “But I was really looking forward to it!”

Sukuna rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Looks like we’ll need to go out for groceries. How about we make it an adventure?”

Yuji’s face lit up at the prospect of an outing. “Okay! Can we get some ice cream too?”

Sukuna chuckled, relieved that Yuji’s mood had brightened. “Sure, ice cream it is. Let’s get going before your hunger turns into a full-blown meltdown, brat.”

As they left the house, Sukuna and Yuji made their way to the nearby supermarket. Yuji’s excitement was palpable, his small hands gripping the shopping cart handle as he eagerly pointed out various items he wanted to add to the list. Sukuna, trying to keep up, found himself both amused and exasperated by Yuji’s relentless energy and enthusiasm.

In the aisles of the supermarket, Sukuna pushed the cart while Yuji darted from one section to another, collecting snacks, fruits, and—of course—several packs of natto. Sukuna grabbed a few essentials and, true to his word, added some ice cream to the cart.

As they approached the checkout line, Sukuna glanced at Yuji, who was happily munching on a sample cookie from the store. The small bit of chocolate on Yuji’s cheek made him look even more cherubic and endearing. Sukuna’s lips twitched into a small smile, a rare moment of warmth slipping through his usually stoic facade.

“You know, I think I might need to keep a better stock of food for next time,” Sukuna said, his tone light.

Yuji, still with cookie crumbs on his face, grinned up at him. “And more natto!”

Sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle. The idea of having to stockpile natto just to keep his nephew happy was a new one, but it seemed like a worthwhile endeavor. He ruffled Yuji’s hair affectionately, feeling a soft, genuine affection for the boy.

“You’ve got it, brat. More natto it is.” Sukuna agreed, a rare, relaxed smile on his face.

As they loaded their groceries onto the conveyor belt, Sukuna glanced around, realizing how normal and mundane the experience was compared to the high-stakes, dangerous life he usually led. The simplicity of shopping for food and sharing a lighthearted moment with Yuji was both refreshing and oddly comforting.

Yuji, ever the energetic child, started pointing out items in the store with increasing enthusiasm. “Uncle Sukuna, look! They have those gummy candies you like!” 

Sukuna gave a half-hearted, amused shrug. “Sure, toss them in. I guess I can indulge a bit today.”

As they made their way through the aisles, Yuji chatted away, filling the silence with stories about school and his friends. Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention, his mind elsewhere, when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

There, at the end of the aisle, stood a familiar figure. The sight stopped Sukuna in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. It was you.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He watched as you browsed through the shelves, seemingly lost in thought. Your presence, once a distant memory, felt so strikingly real that Sukuna’s heart skipped a beat. The years seemed to melt away as he took in the sight of you.

At first, he didn’t recognize you. It was just a fleeting glimpse, the way your hair caught the light, the familiar way you moved. But then, as you reached for something on a high shelf, he saw your face, and his heart stopped.

It was you.

He couldn’t believe it at first. He thought maybe it was someone who just looked like you, or perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, dredging up memories he’d tried so hard to bury. But the more he stared, the more certain he became. It was you.

Yuji, noticing Sukuna’s sudden pause, looked up. “Uncle Sukuna, what’s wrong?”

Sukuna swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, nothing, brat. Let’s just finish up here.”

But his gaze was fixed on you, unable to look away. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and Sukuna fought with the urge to approach you, unsure of what to say or do. The familiar mix of excitement and anxiety churned within him, a reminder of the past he had tried so hard to reconcile.

Yuji, still unaware of the significance of the moment, tugged on Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go over there? I want to check if they have those chocolates I like!”

Sukuna nodded absently, allowing Yuji to lead him towards the end of the aisle where you stood. As they drew closer, Sukuna braced himself, trying to steady his racing heart. He needed to act normal, to approach you calmly despite the flood of emotions.

Without thinking, he handed the shopping basket to Yuji and began walking toward you. The world around him seemed to blur, the noise of the supermarket fading into the background. It was just you and him, the years that had passed suddenly meaningless.

When he reached you, he hesitated, unsure of what to say. His mind raced, a thousand questions and emotions fighting for dominance. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility of seeing you again. But now that you were right in front of him, he couldn’t just walk away.

“Is that you?” He finally said it. He finally said your name. He could feel his entire body shake from nervousness. He didn’t notice until he said it that his voice was rougher than he intended.

You turned to him, blinking in confusion. Your eyes met his, and for a brief, electrifying moment, Sukuna saw the spark of recognition. It was fleeting, but it was there—an almost imperceptible flicker that hinted at a shared past. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a polite, detached expression.

“I’m sorry, but…” you began, your voice soft and apologetic. “Do I know you?”

The words hit Sukuna like a punch to the gut. The confusion on your face made no sense to him; how could you not remember him? The realization was like a cold wave crashing over him. He scanned your face more closely, noting the faint scar near your temple and the way your eyes seemed to search his face for something familiar but found nothing.

“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.”

You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Amnesia. The word hit him like a ton of bricks. All the anger, hurt, and regret that had simmered in him for years suddenly evaporated, replaced by something he couldn’t quite name. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t remember anything about your life together, the love you shared, or the pain that had driven you apart. He stared at you, struggling to process what you’d just told him. The person he’d spent years trying to forget had forgotten him completely. And it hurts. It burns. It…it kills him.

Sukuna’s heart sank as he struggled to process your words. The memories of the past, the shared moments, the intense connection—everything seemed to blur together in a confusing haze. He tried to hold onto the hope that maybe, somehow, there was a chance you might remember him later, but the reality of your situation was clear. You had no recollection of your time together.

“Right…” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with emotions he didn’t quite know how to handle. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”

“I just… I feel like I’ve upset you,” you mumbled back, your eyes filled with sincere regret. “It’s been like this for a while. I’m really sorry.”

“No, no… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It was my fault,” Sukuna said, shaking his head, though the words felt hollow against the weight of his feelings.

You nodded, your gaze sympathetic. “No, please. It’s not. I understand. It must be hard to run into someone who doesn’t remember you. I’m truly sorry.”

There was a quiet moment between you, the weight of lost memories hanging heavily in the air. Sukuna, feeling the sting of both your absence and the reality of your condition, struggled to find the right words. He wanted to bridge the gap between what had been and what was now, but he found himself at a loss.

Before you could turn away, Sukuna took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. “Um… could I… could I have your number? Maybe… maybe we could talk sometime. If you’re okay with that.”

You looked at him, a flicker of surprise crossing your face. For a moment, you seemed to weigh his request, and then you nodded slowly. “Sure. I can give you my number. I’d like that.”

As you exchanged contact information, Sukuna felt a mixture of hope and apprehension. The act of sharing numbers was a small step, but it felt significant. It was a bridge to the possibility of rebuilding a connection, even if the past was shadowed by the uncertainty of your memory.

“Thank you,” Sukuna said quietly, his voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. “I appreciate it.”

You gave him a warm, understanding smile. “Of course. I’ll be happy to talk whenever you’re ready. It’s… nice to have some help with my memories, even if it’s just a little.”

Before he could speak, Yuji tugged at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go home now? I’m tired.”

Sukuna glanced down at Yuji and then back at you, his heart heavy. “Yeah, Yuji. Let’s head out.”

As Sukuna began to walk away, he felt your gaze on him. The pain of seeing you again, only to find that you had no memory of their shared past, was almost too much to bear. The bittersweet encounter left him with a mix of longing and resignation. You smiled at Yuji and then to him. Yuji grinned back at you and waved back. 

“Take care.” you called softly as he left the store with Yuji. Sukuna gave a small, subdued wave in response, his mind reeling from the encounter.

Once outside, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Yuji, noticing his uncle’s somber mood, looked up with concern. “Uncle Sukuna, are you okay?”

Sukuna forced a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, Yuji. I’m fine. Just… a little surprised. Let’s get home.”

As they drove back, Sukuna’s thoughts were filled with the echoes of the past and the present reality. The encounter had stirred up old feelings, and the realization that you had lost your memories of him was both heartbreaking and profoundly unsettling. Yet, despite the pain, there was a strange sense of closure, as if seeing you again, even under these circumstances, had helped him come to terms with the unresolved aspects of their past.

As you walked away, Sukuna stood there, frozen in place, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Yuji came up beside him, his eyes wide with concern.

“Uncle Sukuna, are you okay? Who was that?”

Sukuna glanced at Yuji, then back at the aisle where you’d disappeared. He didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know how to explain that the person he’d never been able to forget had forgotten him entirely.

“That,” Sukuna finally said, his voice hollow, “was someone I used to know.”

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HE DOESN’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED AFTER. The days that followed were a blur for Sukuna. But he couldn’t help it.  Your encounter in the supermarket had shaken him in a way he hadn’t expected. He tried to push it aside, tell himself that it didn’t matter, that you were just a part of his past. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, the way you looked at him with no recognition, no anger, no pain—just blank politeness. It haunted him.

Yet, fate seemed determined to keep throwing the two of you together. A few days later, he saw you again, this time at a coffee shop. You were sitting by the window, a book in hand, oblivious to the world around you. Sukuna hesitated, debating whether to approach you, but before he could decide, you looked up and caught his eye. There was that same polite smile, and he found himself walking over to you before he could think better of it.

“Hi again.” you said, looking up at him with that same soft, apologetic expression. “We keep running into each other, don’t we?”

“Yeah…..” he replied, his voice rough. He wasn’t sure what to say. The awkwardness between you was palpable, the weight of the past pressing down on him in a way you couldn’t feel. But you didn’t know that, couldn’t know that, so you just smiled and gestured to the seat across from you.

“Would you like to join me?” you asked, your voice gentle, offering a small, tentative smile as you gestured to a nearby café table.

Sukuna hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or why he was putting himself through this, but there was something about being near you, even if you didn’t remember him, that soothed the ache in his chest. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” he finally said, his voice betraying the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He sat down across from you, the familiarity of the scene almost too much to bear. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. 

You giggled. “I don’t mind. Not at all.”

As you both settled in, the air between you was filled with an odd mix of tension and familiarity. You began to talk—small, inconsequential things at first. You mentioned how you liked the café’s atmosphere, how it had become one of your favorite spots since you moved here. Sukuna nodded along, trying to focus on the present moment rather than the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm him.

“You know….. “ you said after a moment, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, “it’s strange. I feel… comfortable with you. Like I’ve known you for a long time, even if I can’t remember it.”

Sukuna’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the years of pain, regret, and longing he had carried since you’d been apart. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to burden you with memories you didn’t share anymore. So instead, he offered a small, wistful smile. 

“Maybe it’s just one of those thing.” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. “Some people just click, I guess.”

You nodded, your gaze lingering on his face as if you were trying to piece together a puzzle. “Maybe. But still, it feels nice. Like I can trust you.”

Sukuna swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. “I’m glad,” he said quietly, his voice betraying the depth of his feelings despite his best efforts. “I’d like to be someone you can trust.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, and the tension slowly eased. You talked about your life, your work, and the things you enjoyed. Sukuna listened intently, hanging on to every word, savoring the sound of your voice even if the stories were new to him. 

As the minutes turned into an hour, Sukuna found himself relaxing. The ache in his chest dulled, replaced by a warmth that he hadn’t felt in years. It was as if, for the first time since you had parted ways, he could breathe a little easier. There was no rush, no pressure to define what this was or what it could become. Just the simple pleasure of being in your company again, however different it might be from the past.

When you finally stood up to leave, Ryomen Sukuna felt a pang of reluctance, but he knew this wasn’t the end. You had exchanged numbers, after all, and there was a possibility that this could lead to something more. 

“I’m really glad we ran into each other.” you said, giving him a sincere smile. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

“Me too.” Sukuna replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d like that.”

As you walked away, Sukuna remained seated for a moment, staring at the now-empty chair across from him. Despite the uncertainty of the future, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right—to show you the kind of love and care he should have given you all those years ago. And as he left the café, he found himself smiling, a feeling of lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in far too long.

Like the wind, the days brushed by into weeks, these accidental meetings became more frequent. He’d see you at the park, at the grocery store, at the small bookstore you frequented. Each time, you greeted him with the same warmth, and each time, he felt the walls he’d built around his heart start to crumble a little more.

It was during one of these encounters, when you were sitting together on a bench at the park, that Sukuna realized something had changed. He wasn’t just dwelling on the past anymore. He wasn’t just seeing you as the woman he used to love, the one who’d left him behind. You were still that person, but you were also someone new, someone who’d been through their own struggles, their own pain.

And he’d changed too. He wasn’t the same man you’d walked away from five years ago. The anger, the recklessness, the pride that had once driven you apart had mellowed. He’d grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, sitting beside you, he realized that he wanted to make things right.

There was one afternoon where after you’d both finished your coffees at that familiar café, Sukuna finally found himself gathered the courage to speak again. He’d been thinking about this for days, the words tumbling over and over in his mind until they felt like second nature.

“Hey….” he began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

You looked at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”

“I know you don’t remember me, or anything about… us, but I want you to know that I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed. And I want to try again.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I want to make things right for you.”

There was a long silence as you absorbed his words. He could see the confusion in your eyes, the way you were trying to piece together something that felt like a missing puzzle in your mind. You wanted to know what it was. How to be complete, and yet you didn’t know how. Not even if your past thought he was what complete was. Finally, you spoke.

“Sukuna, I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember anything about us, about our past. But I can see that this means a lot to you, and that you’ve been carrying it with you for a long time.”

You paused, looking down at your hands, and then back at him. “I don’t know if I can ever get those memories back. But I do know that I enjoy spending time with you, that I feel comfortable around you. And maybe… maybe that’s a good place to start.”

His heart leapt at your words, hope flickering to life in a way it hadn’t in years. This was a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite the story that had once ended in heartbreak. He didn’t know what the future held, or if you would ever remember what you once had, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something close to peace.

Sukuna reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and you didn’t pull away. “Then let’s start there, hm?” he said quietly. “No pressure, no expectations. Just… us.”

You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that sent a wave of relief through him. “Just us,” you agreed.

And for the first time in five years, Sukuna felt like he was finally on the path to something real, something lasting. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to prove that he could love you the way you deserved—this time, the right way.

As the weeks turned into months, Sukuna and you continued to meet, slowly rebuilding a connection that had once been lost. Each encounter felt like a tentative step forward, a cautious yet hopeful attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between you over the years. Yet, instead of the intense and sometimes overwhelming passion that had defined your past relationship, there was a newfound sense of calm and understanding between you both.

There was an ease between you now, a natural rhythm that felt different from the intense, almost chaotic bond you’d shared in the past. In the beginning, it was subtle—a shared smile over a mundane joke, the comfortable silence that fell between you as you walked side by side, the way your conversations flowed without the need to fill every gap with words. The pressure that once loomed over your relationship, demanding definitions and clarity, had dissipated, leaving space for something more genuine and unforced.

You found yourselves slipping into each other’s lives in small, almost imperceptible ways. Sukuna would pick up your favorite coffee without being asked, remembering the way you liked it just by heart. You’d invite him to a quiet dinner at your place, cooking together in the kitchen as you talked about everything and nothing. There were no grand gestures or declarations, just a quiet, steady presence that felt reassuring and right.

This time, there was no rush, no urgency to define what you were to each other. It was as if both of you understood that whatever this was, it needed to grow at its own pace. You’d learned from the past, from the way things had unraveled before, and there was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. You allowed the relationship to unfold naturally, letting each moment build upon the last, like carefully stacking stones into a tower that could withstand the test of time.

Sukuna, too, had changed. The man who once wore his emotions like armor, who had always been so guarded and intense, was different now. There was a softness to him that hadn’t been there before—a willingness to listen, to be patient, to let things unfold without forcing them into place. He no longer felt the need to control every aspect of his life, and that included his relationship with you. He had learned to let go, to trust that if this was meant to be, it would be.

And in that trust, something beautiful began to grow. Your conversations deepened, moving beyond the surface-level topics that had once dominated your interactions. You talked about your dreams, your fears, the things that kept you awake at night. Sukuna shared pieces of himself that he had kept hidden for so long, opening up in ways he never had before. And you, in turn, felt safe enough to do the same.

There were moments when the past would resurface, like shadows lingering at the edges of your newfound connection. Memories of heated arguments, of painful goodbyes, would flicker in your minds, reminding you of how things had once gone wrong. But instead of letting those memories drag you down, you faced them together, acknowledging the hurt while choosing to move forward.

It wasn’t always easy. There were still days when doubts crept in, when the fear of repeating past mistakes threatened to pull you apart. But each time, you chose to stay, to work through it rather than run away. And with each challenge you faced, the bond between you grew stronger, more resilient.

Sukuna, who had once been so afraid of vulnerability, found himself looking forward to the moments he spent with you. The walls he had built around himself slowly crumbled, replaced by a quiet confidence in what you were building together. He no longer needed to prove himself, to assert control over his emotions or over you. Instead, he allowed himself to simply be—with you, in the present, without the burden of past regrets or future expectations.

You, too, noticed the change in yourself. The tension that had once gnawed at your heart, the constant questioning of whether you were enough or if this was right, had eased. You felt more secure, more at peace with where you were and where you were going. You trusted Sukuna in a way you hadn’t before, not just because he had changed, but because you had changed too.

As the months passed, the connection between you deepened, solidified by the quiet moments of understanding and the shared experiences that had brought you closer together. There was a sense of contentment that neither of you had anticipated—a feeling that, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And so, you continued to meet, to grow together, allowing whatever this was to take shape in its own time. There was no rush, no urgency, only the quiet certainty that what you were building was worth the patience and the effort. You both knew that the past would always be a part of you, but it no longer defined you. Instead, it had become a foundation upon which you could build something new, something lasting.

In each other’s presence, you found a kind of peace that had once seemed elusive, and in that peace, you discovered the possibility of a future that was not just better than the past, but truly, deeply right.

Sukuna found himself looking forward to your meetings, the mundane moments that had once seemed trivial now holding a new significance. Whether it was a simple walk in the park, browsing through books together, or sharing a meal, these moments began to stitch together a new story between you, one that was quieter, more deliberate, and infinitely more meaningful.

But beneath the surface, Sukuna wrestled with his own emotions. The more time he spent with you, the more he realized just how much he had missed you—how much he had missed being close to someone who truly understood him. Yet, there was also the constant reminder that you didn’t remember him, that the memories of your past were locked away, possibly forever.

One afternoon, after you’d both finished a long walk along the river, you sat together on a bench, watching the water ripple in the sunlight. The conversation had lulled into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, Sukuna just watched you, taking in the way the light caught your hair, the serene expression on your face.

“Can I ask you something?” Sukuna finally said, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, nodding. “Of course.”

“Do you ever… feel like something’s missing? Like there’s a part of you that’s still out there, waiting to be found?”

You considered his question carefully before responding. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “There are moments when I feel like I’m on the edge of remembering something important, something that’s just out of reach. But I’ve learned to let go of the frustration. I’ve had to accept that those memories might never come back.”

Sukuna’s heart clenched at your words, the weight of your shared history pressing down on him. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the story of your love, the highs and lows, the way you had been everything to each other and how it had all fallen apart. But he held back, knowing that it wasn’t his place to force those memories on you.

Instead, he reached out and took your hand in his. “I don’t want to push you more than I already did.” he said quietly. “I just want you to know that I’m here, whatever happens. I’m not going anywhere this time.”

You squeezed his hand, offering him a gentle smile. “I know, Sukuna. And I appreciate that. I’ve come to trust you, even if I don’t remember our past. What matters to me now is the person you are today, the one I’m getting to know all over again.”

Those words gave Sukuna a sense of hope he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. He was no longer the man who had let his pride and anger destroy something precious. He had grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, he had a chance to show you that.

As the days passed, he became more intentional in his efforts to be there for you, to support you in ways he hadn’t before. He listened when you spoke, offered comfort when you needed it, and gave you space when you needed to process your thoughts. There was a quiet strength in the bond you were forming, a steady foundation that was being built brick by brick.

One evening, after you’d invited him over for dinner, you sat together on your couch, a comfortable silence settling between you after a long day. Sukuna glanced at you, his heart full of things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to put into words.

“I’ve been thinking….a lot.” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “About us.”

His breath caught in his throat, but he stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. He could feel his heart pounding, the silence between you filled with unspoken tension. You looked at him tenderly, and those eyes—those eyes he had once loved so fiercely—held a warmth that stirred something deep within him. But this time, there was something different in your gaze, something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same love he remembered, the love that had once consumed both of you. It was softer, more distant, as if it had been tempered by time and the loss of memories.

Sukuna wasn’t sure what that look meant, but he longed for the days when your eyes had been filled with nothing but love for him. He yearned for the intensity, the passion that had once been theirs. But deep down, he knew those days were gone, that you had changed, just as he had. And even though he wished for the impossible, he understood that the love you had once shared might never return in the way it had before.

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping, from wanting you to look at him like that again, to feel that love again. But he knew, with a sinking certainty, that it was unlikely. Maybe this was his punishment, the price he had to pay for the mistakes he had made, for the years he had spent without you. Maybe fate was just that cruel, giving him a second chance only to remind him of what he had lost.

“I don’t remember our past, Sukuna.” you said softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, but there was a sincerity in it that made Sukuna’s chest tighten. “But I do know that I feel something when I’m with you. It’s not just comfort or friendship… it’s more. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right, being with you.”

Sukuna’s heart swelled with emotion, a mix of relief and longing coursing through him. He had waited so long to hear those words, to know that there was still something between you, even if it wasn’t exactly what he had expected. It wasn’t the grand declaration of love he had secretly hoped for, but it was something—a spark, a glimmer of the connection that had once bound you together.

He searched your face, looking for any sign of the emotions he had once known so well. But all he found was that same tender expression, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It wasn’t love, not yet. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.

“I’m glad you feel that way.” he said, his voice thick with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check. “I don’t want to rush things, or push you to remember something that might never come back. I just… I want to be here with you, whatever that means.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I want that too, Sukuna. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’d like to find out—together.”

He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the heavy burden of his regrets and fears easing, if only a little. This was far from the ending he had imagined, but it was a beginning, a chance to rebuild what had been lost. And maybe, just maybe, if he was patient and if he allowed things to unfold naturally, there could be something new between you, something that was just as meaningful as what you had once shared.

As you both stood there, the world around you fading into the background, Sukuna couldn’t help but think that perhaps fate wasn’t as cruel as he had feared. Maybe this was his second chance—not to reclaim the past, but to create something new, something even better than what had been before. And for the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope that this time, he wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

epilogue 

A few weeks after your heartfelt conversation with Sukuna, you find yourself at a park on a sunny afternoon. Sukuna had asked you to meet him there, mentioning that his nephew, Yuji, would be joining. You had heard a lot about Yuji from Sukuna—how the kid was full of energy, always getting into something, and how Sukuna had taken on a sort of protective role in his life. You were curious to see this side of Sukuna, the man who had once been all sharp edges and intensity.

As you approach the park, you spot Sukuna first, sitting on a bench with a somewhat exasperated look on his face. Beside him is a young boy, who is clearly trying to balance on the back of the bench with one foot, arms outstretched like he’s performing some kind of circus act.

“Careful, you brat.” Sukuna warns, his tone stern but not unkind. “You’re going to break your neck.”

Yuji, grinning from ear to ear, just laughs and hops down with a flourish. “I’m invincible, Uncle Sukuna!”

“Yeah, well, let’s not test that theory.” Sukuna mutters, but there’s a fondness in his voice that catches you off guard. “Your mom and dad will kill me.”

You approach them, smiling as Yuji notices you and waves enthusiastically. “Hi! You must be the one Uncle Sukuna’s always talking about!”

“Yuji!” Sukuna snaps, looking mortified. “I do not—”

Yuji doesn’t miss a beat, cutting him off. “He totally does! He’s always like, ‘I wonder if she’s gonna remember me today,’ or ‘Maybe she’ll cook something nice again.’”

Sukuna groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Kid, do you ever stop talking?”

You can’t help but laugh at the exchange, and Sukuna’s embarrassment only makes it funnier. “Nice to meet you, Yuji!” you say, crouching down to his level. “Your uncle’s right, though. You should be careful on that bench.”

Yuji shrugs, his smile never fading. “Uncle Sukuna’s always careful too, even though he acts all tough. But he’s really soft, especially when I get hurt. You should see him panic when I stub my toe.”

“Yuji!” Sukuna’s voice is a mix of frustration and resignation, clearly regretting bringing his nephew along.

You stand up, grinning at Sukuna. “I see you’ve got a little soft spot, huh?”

“Don’t listen to him.” Sukuna mutters, glaring at Yuji, who just laughs and runs off toward the playground. “He’s a menace.”

“Sure, sure.” you tease, nudging Sukuna lightly. “But you love it.”

Sukuna sighs, watching Yuji with an expression that’s a mix of exasperation and affection. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”

You slip your hand into Sukuna’s, squeezing it gently. “You’re doing a great job, Uncle Sukuna.”

He gives you a sidelong glance, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Don’t start calling me that too.”

“No promises.” you reply, laughing as you both watch Yuji play, his laughter filling the air. It’s a side of Sukuna you never expected to see, and you find yourself growing more and more fond of the man who, despite his rough edges, is soft in all the right places.

[eveninggstar]

victory lap ⊹ ࣪ ˖

lando norris x rival!Mercedes!reader

26.08.24

୨ৎLando proposes a bet that if he gets pole and wins from pole in Zandvoort then he gets to not use a condom next time you and him have sex.

୨ৎ back one page ୨ৎ back two pages

smut

unprotected p in v sex, kinda bratty reader, lando smacks readers ass twice, sex on the floor, lando is controlling but in a good way, probs more

ngl this is prob the best smut ive ever written so far lol kinda like this one bc i love lando two wins!!! Also this is pretty long i dont know how many words

The tension between you and Lando had been building up for years. The two of you were rivals on the track, always pushing each other to the limit, but beneath that fierce competition lay something neither of you could ignore—an undeniable sexual tension that everyone seemed to notice. The paddock was rife with rumours, and even your respective teams had exchanged knowing glances whenever the two of you were around each other.

It all came to a head one balmy summer evening at Zandvoort. The Dutch Grand Prix was notorious for its challenging circuit and passionate fans, and both of you were ready to put on a show.

You were lounging in your driver room, going over your strategy for the weekend when Lando sauntered in, a cocky grin plastered on his face. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, his McLaren race suit unzipped just enough to give a glimpse of his undershirt. He was clearly up to something.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature mix of charm and mischief. “How confident are you feeling about this weekend?”

You looked up from your notes, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Confident enough to wipe that smug look off your face, Norris. Why do you ask?”

Lando chuckled, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking over to you. “Well, I was thinking... How about we make things a little more interesting this weekend?”

Your curiosity was piqued. “Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind?”

He leaned in close, his arms draped around your shoulder and his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Let’s make a bet. If I get pole position and win from pole, then the next time we have sex i don't wear a condom." He stayed silent for a few seconds, then leaning his face closer to your ear so his nose flattened, "Let me finish inside of you, baby."

A shiver ran down your spine at his bold proposition. You knew Lando liked to push boundaries, but this was a whole new level. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not from him.

“And what do I get if you don’t?” you asked, your voice steady despite the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

“If I don’t win from pole, you get to call the shots next time,” Lando replied, his eyes darkening with the unspoken promises laced in his words.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider it, even though you already knew your answer. “Alright, Norris. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Saturday came around, and the atmosphere at Zandvoort was electric. The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the thrill of competition all combined to create an intoxicating environment. Qualifying was intense, with both you and Lando pushing your cars to the absolute limit.

“Lando Norris takes pole position!” the announcer’s voice boomed across the circuit.

You clenched your fists, a mix of frustration and anticipation bubbling within you. Lando had done it—step one of the bet was complete. But there was still the race to come, and you were determined to give him a run for his money.

Race day dawned bright and clear, the sun shining down on the packed grandstands. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you strapped into your Mercedes, your focus narrowing down to the task at hand. The lights went out, and the race began with a flurry of motion.

Lando held his position at the front, but you were right on his tail, refusing to give him an inch. Lap after lap, you pressed him, looking for any opportunity to overtake, but he defended fiercely, his car perfectly placed at every turn. The tension between you both was palpable, each of you pushing the other to the brink.

As the race neared its conclusion, you realized that Lando was going to pull it off. He had driven impeccably, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t find a way past him. At this point you were nowhere near him. He had a 20 second lead and had lapped over half the grid.

Your heart sank as the reality of the situation set in. Lando had won the bet. As you pulled into the pit lane, you saw him celebrating with his team, his face lit up with triumph. But when he caught your eye, his smile turned into something more—something darker, filled with desire.

Later that evening, after all the interviews and celebrations, you found yourself in Lando’s motorhome. The air between you crackled with anticipation as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the world.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed winning a race this much.”

You swallowed hard, your body already responding to the heat in his gaze. “You got lucky, Norris.”

He smirked, stepping closer until you were backed up against the wall. “I think we both know it wasn’t just luck, Y/N. Now, are you ready to pay up?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his body against yours, his hands sliding up your sides. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, the intensity between you both reaching a fever pitch.

“You won fair and square,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It was fierce, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been simmering between you for so long. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Lando didn't waste anytime before he urged you backwards towards the sofa. Your mouths slotted together and his hands groped and explored your body, going from your chest to your thighs. His hands manoeuvred the remains of your race suit to the floor, only leaving you in your fireproofs. With the reduced barrier, he could easily press against you causing you to let out many gasps and a few tugs to his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Lan, hurry up.”

He paused, eyes scattering over your features. His face was no longer the happy winner everyone outside saw. He was now drunk with a lust filled haze. He lifted himself up off of you slightly, bringing a hand to your face and caressing it with the utmost care. His breath felt warm against your face, causing your eyes to flutter shut. The calmness you were experiencing was cut short by the strong grip Lando had on your face, squeezing your cheeks and puckering your lips.

"You're the one needing to be faster." He practically growled, looking deep into your eyes. "Remind me who came first." He paused, awaiting your answer. "Who won the bet?" His voice sent shivers down your spine.

"You," you mumbled, then began to smile as his hand drifted to your neck. He returned the smile and slowly moved his face to the underside on your jaw. He kissed it sweetly, then tightened his grip.

"Louder, baby." He commanded, his words dark but mixed with the feather light kisses sent your head into another dimension.

"You!" You spoke up, earning a nip to your neck. He then came back to your face to then deepen the kiss you had earlier.

He moved your lower body so he could fit more comfortably between your legs. Your hands desperately gripped at his damp hair, needing to hold anything to ground yourself.

You felt the hand around your neck slowly trail down the length of your body before settling at your groin. Your legs attempted to close shut, although his waist was preventing you from doing that. He began to work at your clothed clit, his thumb easily circling over the smooth fabric.

"Uh-" your voice cut off as he pressed on the dampening fabric harder.

"There you go, you're speeding up. Getting wet so quickly," He spoke condescendingly as he nuzzled his nose in your cheek. "Why cant you be like this on track?" He began to mouth at your neck, causing you to let out a breathy moan. As much as you hated Lando's cockiness, god was it hot.

“Shush.” You moaned, an audible show of your composure.

You could barely speak, Lando's thumb never faltering on your soaking clit. His body was overwhelming you, and you started to squirm. However, that same thumb stopped giving pleasure. Before you could protest, he was hastily ripping your fireproofs off. This left you bare and flushed below him. Your chest heaving up and down as his eyes scanned over our body.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, surely leaving a mark this time, as you expelled a breath of pleasure as his fingers worked their way into your slit.

Your words were lost on you, wanting to ask when he was going to get to the real reason of your bet. But in all honestly, you didn't care if he would carry on pleasuring you. However, you did want his fingers to enter you, to leave you wanting more of a stretch for days after.

His fingers left your aching cunt, leaving it to pulsate rhythmically. You reached out to hold his hand, an iron bruising grip you're sure of it. His race suit clad crotch bumped against your bare one, giving a shock of unexpected pleasure.

"Lan!" you practically yelled, your squeal bouncing off of the surrounding walls.

He shushed you, then ordered you to not touch yourself. He slowly slinked up off of the sofa, eyes solely focused of your slightly twitching body. The rest of his race suit joined yours on the floor, in addition to his fireproofs.

His cock sprung free, the tip beat red and dripping at the sight of you. Lando stood proud for what felt like forever. His left thumb was stroking his lip as he shook his head in the opposite direction. That's when he uttered-

"Get on the floor."

You submissive sex haze briefly broke, thinking you heard him wrong.

"The floor?" You pushed your body up, looking at him like he just asked you to get on the floor like an animal. Oh wait-

"I won the bet, baby." He smirked, eyes still raking over your nude body. "Floor, there's not enough space on the sofa for us."

With a sigh and a reluctant nod, you melted your way off of the sofa. You knew the position he wanted you in, he rarely fucked you when not in it. You laid on the floor for a few seconds, collecting yourself. Lando saw you laying there, not having you be a pillow princess he ordered you to-

"Flip around, ass up. I know!" You rolled your eyes, then did it. What you didn't expect was a harsh smack to your ass. You let out a mixture of a moan and a sound on pain.

"Enough of the bratty attitude," He smacked your ass lighter this time then gripping the plump, reddening flesh.

Finally, you thought, the head of his cock began to notch at your entrance. His fingers had intertwined with the nodded strands of your hair and he pulled up as his dick pushed into your cunt in a swift motion.

You both let out a groan of pleasure. Lando held himself there, letting you and himself adjust to the jaw dropping pleasure. This was the first time the pair of you were having sex without a condom, and god did it already feel a million times better. The pair of you had to focus to not cum straight away.

No words were needed between the four walls of you sex filled haven, as Lando thrusted into you. His palms splayed on your hips controlled your movements as his relentlessly bullied his cock further and further into you. You hands struggled to hold onto something, eventually finding solace in Lando's fireproofs.

His name was chanted like a prayer from you, in return you got delicious sounding moans and groans from behind you. You were sure his face didn't look all that different to yours in the moment. Pleasure filled, and only focused on the other.

His repetitive ruts and the bruising grip on your hips rendered you speechless. You wanted to say keep going, feels so good. But that was the problem, since the pleasure was that unbelievable you couldn't say. The loud sounds of sex echoed as your skin slapped in a fast tempo, each smack more pleasureful than the last.

Lando leaned closer to you, chest flat of you back. At every thrust you could feel the tense of his abs and the perspiration drip onto your equally sweaty skin. He began to mouth at your neck, settling for small thrusts whilst he was buried at the hilt. One on his hands slithered away from your hips and found solace on your breast.

His hot breath spread across your neck and down your spine as you shivered. His moans had turned to grunts and pants.

"Like it when you can feel me this good?" He grinned into your hair, leaving small kisses in his wake. "Like it when your this full?"

You wanted to nod, only giving a weak, stuttered head movement. The remaining hand on your hip drifted to your swollen clit. He helped ease you to completion.

"Aren't you glad I got pole." He teased you. "That I won. You wouldn't feel this good if I didn't."

You whimpered at his words, too turned on to be annoyed that he won and you didn't. But yeah, you were happy he won. He doesn't have to know that though.

You wanted to tease him, give him payback to what you were feeling, what you always felt with him, however none of that would be happening. He knew you like he knew the tracks the pair of you frequented, and knew that you were actual putty in his hands this very moment.

He picked up his pace, resulting you to let out loud moans and sexual noises of the like. The speed of his thrusts felt as if his dick was going to come out, luckily it didn't and you got the full pleasure.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, you can cum for me. I know you can-"

His hand came up as fast as his reflexes allowed, as you came. He slowly reduced the pleasure he was giving to your clit and eventually reached his own high. Your neck vibrated at the animalistic groan he let out into it.

Needless to say, the pair of you would be having more bets like this.

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[xhoess]

Falling for the Star

Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader

Summary: You meet actor Nicholas Alexander Chavez at a gala, sparking an intense romance. As passion builds, you navigate the challenges of his fame, facing public scrutiny and personal doubts. Through steamy moments and emotional struggles, you both fight for a love that’s worth the spotlight.

Wc: 10.7 K

Smut, fluff, drammaaaaaa

The moon hung low in the Los Angeles sky, a silver crescent illuminating the sprawling city below. The air buzzed with excitement and anticipation as you cautiously approached the entrance of the exclusive charity gala at a luxurious rooftop venue. The invitation had arrived with bright golden lettering, but in truth, you had almost turned it down. The mere thought of mingling with celebrities, the glitterati, and Hollywood’s elite had been overwhelming. Nevertheless, a gentle push from a close friend, coupled with a curiosity that ignited within you, led you to this moment.

As you stepped through the large glass doors, the atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace. The soft notes of a live jazz band floated through the air, a blend of elegance and vibrancy. Lush greenery adorned the venue, with fairy lights twinkling like stars overhead, and champagne glasses clinking gently as laughter erupted around you. You took a moment to appreciate your reflection in the mirrored walls, wearing a stunning emerald green dress that hugged your figure perfectly. It cascaded to just above your knees, with delicate lace details accentuating your collarbone, making you feel both empowered and graceful.

You scanned the room, your heart racing, when your eyes caught sight of him — Nicholas Alexander Chavez. He was standing across the room, effortlessly charming, with an easy smile that lit up the dimly lit space. His attire was flawless, a tailored navy suit that complemented his physique, making him look like he had stepped right off a magazine cover. His dark curls framed his face, and the spark in his eye held an undeniable allure. You felt an involuntary blush creep up your cheeks as your gaze lingered, making you acutely aware of how stunning he truly was.

Just as you thought you might have imagined the connection, Nicholas glanced in your direction. His gaze met yours, and an electric thrill surged through you, igniting a pulse of energy that felt both thrilling and terrifying. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to study a nearby artwork, though you could feel his stare still lingering.

With a deep breath to steady your nerves, you decided to get a drink from the bar, hoping to calm the fluttering in your stomach. The bar was swarming with well-dressed attendees, all lost in their own animated conversations. You ordered a glass of sparkling wine, and just as you turned to survey the party, you bumped into a broad shoulder.

“Whoa there,” came a deep voice, smooth as velvet.

You looked up, instantly recognizing the familiar face. Nicholas was standing right in front of you, a playful grin on his lips that made your heart skip a beat. “Looks like you’ve fallen for me already,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You tried to keep your composure, laughing nervously as you brushed your hair back. “Well, I might be a clumsy drinker,” you shot back, a lightness in your tone that surprised even you.

“The drinks aren’t the only thing that sparkles here,” he replied, his gaze simmering with an intensity that made your cheeks flush. “I’m Nicholas, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, leaning closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “What brings you to this shindig? I’m sure you could have found somewhere more exciting to spend your evening.”

You chuckled, feeling more at ease. “Believe it or not, I was contemplating staying home and binge-watching my favorite series. But the charity cause pulled me in—along with the chance to dress up a little, I suppose.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And what’s your favorite show?”

Do you really want to know? It’s quite embarrassing,” you replied, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.

“Embarrassing? Nah, I want to hear it,” he insisted, his playful demeanor captivating you further.

The conversation flowed easily from there, a delightful exchange filled with laughter and banter. It was clear that he was down-to-earth, someone who didn’t take himself too seriously despite his rising stardom. He listened intently, leaning against the bar with relaxed confidence that made you feel at ease.

As the night progressed, you found yourselves inching closer, the chemistry undeniable. With every stolen glance and shared laughter, the space between you seemed to shrink. Everything else faded away. Just as you felt the urge to lean in, the crowded bar suddenly erupted into laughter, startling you back to reality.

Nicholas chuckled, his gaze holding yours captive. “Looks like we’re commandeered. How about I steal you away for a moment before we get swallowed by the masses?”

“Lead the way,” you said, your heart racing as he gestured toward a quieter section of the venue.

Working through the sea of guests, you found a reprieve on a balcony that overlooked the stunning LA skyline. The city lights glimmered like a cascade of stars, and for a moment, it felt as if you were both the only two people in the world. The evening breeze danced around you, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine from nearby plants.

Nicholas leaned against the railing beside you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You know," he said softly, the music from inside blending into the background, "I’m glad you came tonight. You have this energy about you, something refreshing."

our heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone leaving a weight on your chest. “And I’m glad I bumped into you. I didn’t expect to meet someone like you tonight.”

Just then, the moment felt charged, his gaze intent as he held you captive. You could sense the potential for something deeper, something more than just a fleeting encounter at a glamorous gala. But before you could react, a friend called out for Nicholas, interrupting the silence that had built around the two of you.

With a reluctant smile, he turned back to you. “I have to go, but I hope we can pick up where we left off.”

Me too,” you replied, biting your lip, hoping it spoke volumes about what you felt.

He flashed that dazzling smile again. “Here’s my number. Call me. Let’s not let the night end like this, okay?”

You took the slip of paper, your fingers brushing against his as you felt a shiver of delight at the contact. “I definitely will,” you promised, watching as he faded back into the crowd, leaving you breathless and craving more.

The gala had been a whirlwind of elegance, laughter, and glittering lights. You had spent the evening swirling through rooms filled with celebrities, each moment feeling like a scene from a movie. But the real magic began when Nicholas Alexander Chavez approached you during the afterparty, his charming smile effortlessly stealing your breath away. Now, you found yourself on the rooftop of a trendy Los Angeles venue, the city sparkling below as the cool night air wrapped around you.

Nicholas's deep voice carried a playful tone as he arched a brow, “So, did you come here to dazzle everyone with your beauty, or is there a hidden talent I should know about?”

You chuckled, leaning back against the railing, your fingers brushing his casually. “Dazzling was the aim, but I didn’t expect to run into anyone like you tonight.”

The atmosphere was charged; the intimacy of the rooftop—complete with twinkling fairy lights strung overhead—set the perfect backdrop for your budding connection. Below, L.A. hummed with life, yet up here it was just you and him, everything else fading away.

“Tell me more. What’s it like being a dazzling star in your own right?” he asked, running a hand through his dark hair, drawing your attention to the way the moonlight caught the angles of his jaw.

What can I say? I’m just a regular person who got lucky,” you replied, trying to infuse some levity into the conversation even though your heart raced in his presence. “By day, I’m probably just a boring desk jockey, but at night…” you trailed off teasingly, “I become the queen of charity events.”

His laugh was warm, infectious. “A queen, huh? I’ve always wanted to meet royalty.” He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him—invading your senses. Living in a dream, you felt that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t break.

“I’m not sure how much royalty I am,” you said, feeling daring. “But I do know how to throw a fantastic ball.”

“Care to demonstrate sometime?" he winked, but then his smile softened. “I think it’s important for people to see beyond the lights and glitz. That’s what I try to show in my work too. There’s more to me than what’s at surface level.”

You considered his words, your gaze locked on the sincerity reflected in his eyes. “What do you want them to see?”

Nicholas ran a hand along the back of his neck, a habit you found endearing as he looked for the right words. “That I’m just… well, I’m just trying to figure it all out like everyone else. Being in the spotlight can make things so complicated.”

I can only imagine,” you murmured, absorbing the weight of his confession. It felt nice to know he shared this vulnerability, drawing you closer to him. The edges of the conversation had shifted, moving from playful banter to something deeper.

As he spoke, his hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Time slowed as you both lingered over the lightest of touches, an entire world of unspoken words swirling around you.

Do you think the stars are what they seem?” he mused, his voice lowering as he locked eyes with you. “Or just another layer of a persona?”

Sometimes they seem so perfect,” you replied, barely above a whisper. “But underneath, they’re human too.”

Nicholas smiled, and in that moment, the air felt thick with expectation. He leaned closer, and you could almost taste the warmth radiating between you. The moment elongated, both of you dancing around your desire, a symphony of unfulfilled tension hovering just inches apart.

Then, the serene bubble popped with a shout from below; a group of fellow gala attendees had spilled onto the rooftop, laughter spilling and echoing into the night. The connection between you and Nicholas fractured. He stepped back, breaking the moment like glass shattering on concrete.

“Maybe we should join the party,” he suggested, though you could hear the hint of disappointment in his tone.

“Yeah, let’s not keep the others waiting,” you said, your own heart sinking at the missed opportunity.

But as you both made your way back downstairs, the chemistry lingered electric in the air, weaving around you like a warm embrace. Nicholas walked close; he brushed against you, and goosebumps raced down your arms. You caught fleeting whispers from the crowd as you rejoined—words of admiration and intrigue—as if the guests could sense the bubble of tension that encapsulated you both.

Each glance exchanged with Nicholas sparked further anticipation. You could feel his gaze on you, a warmth that made your cheeks flush. As the evening progressed, small moments of contact sent your heart racing. The lightest brush of his fingers on your back as you maneuvered through the crowd made your breath hitch.

Finally, the night reached its peak, and you found yourself standing at the edge of the rooftop once more, feeling slightly more at ease and anxious all at once. “Thank you for tonight; it was… amazing,” you said, leaning against the railing.

Nicholas turned to you, a soft smile curving his lips. “I had a great time too. But I have a feeling this is just the beginning, isn’t it?”

His voice held a promise that sent butterflies dancing in your stomach. “I hope so,” you replied, allowing a shy smile to break through your facade.

“I’d like to take you on a proper adventure,” he said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “How about we escalate this?”

“Esclare? I’m intrigued.” You crossed your arms, wanting to feign nonchalance but failing miserably.

Tomorrow. Just you, me, and no distractions,” he proposed, excitement bubbling within you at the thought. This was more than just flirting; you could sense things moving to another level.

You could hardly find the words. “I’d like that.”

With a grin that lit up his face, he nodded. The tension hanging in the air was undeniable, and you felt it wrap around you like a heavy blanket woven from the threads of your growing connection. As he leaned close, just hovering as if weighing the options, the world faded into nothingness.

And just then, in that brief moment, everything felt just right. Because in this vast city of stars, you had found one that was distinctly Nicholas, and you were ready to explore wherever the night—or your blossoming relationship—might lead you next.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue across your room as you stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing your reflection. Tonight was more than just another evening. This was a date. A date with Nicholas Alexander Chavez, the charming actor who had stolen your attention—and heart—at the charity gala just days ago. You felt a delicious blend of nerves and excitement bubbling within you, urging you to make the right choice. After rummaging through your closet, you finally settled on a sleek, midnight blue dress. It hugged your curves just right, striking a perfect balance between elegant and alluring. The fabric shimmered slightly under the light, mirroring the glint of anticipation in your eyes.

As you finished your look with a swipe of lipstick and a hint of perfume, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what was to come. Nicholas was not only stunningly handsome but also had a down-to-earth charm that made your heart race. You picked up your phone, your fingers trembling as you checked the time. You were supposed to meet him at a secluded restaurant hidden away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi, a secret oasis in the bustling city.

The short drive to the restaurant was a whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. What would you talk about? Would he lean in closer like he did at the gala? Would you have chemistry over dinner? The mere thought made your heart flutter, and you could feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

The restaurant was everything you could have imagined and more. Nestled on a quiet street, adorned with twinkling lights and soft music, it had an intimate atmosphere that instantly set your nerves at ease. As you walked in, you spotted Nicholas seated at a small table in the corner, his dark hair tousled just right, wearing a casual yet stylish outfit that emphasized his toned physique. He looked up and met your gaze, his smile lighting up the space around him, and suddenly, all the anxious thoughts melted away.

“Hey, you look incredible,” he said, standing to pull out the chair for you.

“Thank you! You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, your voice playful, but your heart raced at the closeness of him.

As you settled into your seat, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You spoke about the gala, sharing laughs over the awkwardness of celebrity encounters, and Nicholas shared funny behind-the-scenes stories from the show. There was an undeniable chemistry, a palpable tension that lingered in the air between you. You couldn’t help but lean in a little closer, wanting to soak in every detail of his expressions and the slight huskiness of his voice when he laughed.

The waiter appeared, taking your orders, but your focus remained on Nicholas, who effortlessly carried the conversation. He spoke of his childhood dreams, his journey into acting, and his love for the craft. “I never thought I’d end up here,” he admitted, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and humility. “It’s surreal, to say the least.”

“I can’t imagine how challenging it must be,” you said, genuinely admiring his dedication. “But I’m glad you’re here. You’re incredibly talented.”

The way his eyes softened at your words made your heart skip a beat. “I appreciate that. It means a lot coming from someone like you,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you, making the room seem smaller, just the two of you in your own world.

As dinner progressed, the food became secondary to the moments that were passing between you—slight touches when handing over his plate, the warmth of his gaze locking onto yours. Each shared smile felt like a silent promise, and you found yourself leaning in as if drawn by an invisible string. There was an undercurrent of desire, thick and tangible, yet neither of you was willing to break the spell just yet.

After the main course, you shared a decadent dessert—a rich chocolate lava cake—playfully feeding each other bites as laughter echoed softly around you. The sweet treat punctuated the sweetness blooming between you. The laughter faded into a comfortable silence, and in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

Nicholas studied you, his expression serious yet softening the longer he watched. “Can I ask you something?” he said, his tone turning unexpectedly sincere.

“Of course,” you replied, your throat dry with anticipation.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “What do you want in life? Beyond what you do, beyond this moment?”

Your heart raced as you stared into his deep brown eyes, sensing the authenticity of his question. “I want to experience life fully. I crave adventure, connection, and authenticity—like what I feel right now.” You held his gaze, feeling exposed yet free.

“And do you feel that with me?” he asked, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

You bit your lip, nodding slightly. The air thickened with unspoken words, and as you opened your mouth to respond, your heart pounded in anticipation of his next move.

Just then, the waiter returned with the check, ruining the moment as you both leaned back, the tension momentarily shattered. After settling the bill, you found yourselves back on the sidewalk, the crisp night air washing over you as you walked under the stars.

Nicholas slowed his pace, walking closely beside you, the hum of the city fading into the background. As you approached your doorstep, the atmosphere became charged with unspoken possibilities. He turned to you, his gaze deep and sincere. “I had an amazing time tonight,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into that smile that made your heart flutter.

“Me too,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.

With the height of tension building, he stepped closer, your body instinctively responding to his proximity. His hand brushed against your arm, sending tingles through your skin. Time seemed to freeze, and you both leaned in, breaths mingling, hearts racing.

But then, a car passed by, its headlights illuminating the moment, reminding you both of the world outside. He didn’t pull away, but rather hesitated, drawn to you yet respecting the moment. “Can I…?” he began, stepping even closer, leaning in as though daring to close the distance between your lips.

“Please…” you whispered, your heart hammering against your chest, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of his kiss.

But then, he pulled back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I think I’ll save that for next time,” he said with a smirk, leaving you both breathless and wanting more, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like the sweetest poison.

As you both stood there, the connection cemented, deepened yet oh-so tantalizingly just out of reach. You knew that this was only the beginning of a whirlwind romance that neither of you could resist.

The days after your last date with Nicholas were an intoxicating mix of anxious anticipation and exhilarating daydreams. He had called you the very next day, his voice smooth and inviting, as if the warmth of the previous night had never really faded. You felt the thrill of those moments linger in your veins, and every text he sent only stoked the flames of your imagination. It was with a flutter of nervous excitement that you prepared for this evening—a dinner at his cozy apartment.

Standing in front of your mirror, you ran a hand through your hair, taking in the reflection of your carefully chosen outfit. You had settled on a flowy, olive-green dress that hugged your curves just enough to leave an impression while still retaining an air of elegance. The fabric floated around your legs as you moved, and you decided on a pair of simple yet chic heels that accentuated the subtle tone in your skin. A touch of makeup polished your look, enhancing your features without overshadowing your natural beauty.

As you stepped out of your apartment, the evening sun cast a golden glow over the city. It seemed to mirror the excitement building within you for tonight. Each heartbeat was a reminder of what might lay ahead—a chance to get to know Nicholas in a way that was private and personal.

Nicholas' place was tucked away in a quieter part of Los Angeles, the streets lined with palm trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. When you reached the front door, he opened it with a smile that lit up his whole face, making your heart skip. He was wearing a soft gray sweater that clung to his frame and fitted jeans, effortlessly stylish yet comfortably laid back. “You look stunning,” he said, his eyes dancing over your figure.

“Thanks! You clean up pretty well yourself,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

He ushered you inside, and it was exactly as you had imagined—stylish yet inviting, decorated in a way that felt uniquely him. The living room was warmed by soft lighting, highlighting the modern artwork that adorned the walls. A fluffy beige couch faced a modest kitchen where the smell of garlic sautéing filled the air. Nicholas grinned cheekily. “I hope you like Italian. I may have gone a little overboard with the pasta.”

You laughed, feeling instantly at ease. “I’m not complaining. It smells amazing!”

As he led you into the kitchen, the playful vibe between you flared like a spark. You slipped off your heels, enjoying the coolness of the wooden floor beneath your feet. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” he said, reaching for a bottle of wine.

“Wine first?” you teased.

“Only if you promise to help me cook,” he shot back, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You accepted a glass, savoring the way his fingers brushed against yours as he handed it to you; the simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body. As you both prepared dinner together, Nicholas cracked jokes about his culinary skills—claiming he was still trying to impress his mother—and you returned his playful banter, playfully questioning his choice of ingredients.

“Is this how you charm all the ladies?” you asked with a smirk as he accidentally spilled a pinch of salt into the sauce.

“Only the ones who can keep up,” he replied, winking at you, his gaze lingering just a second longer than necessary on your lips.

You could feel the warmth pooling inside you, a thrilling mix of nerves and intrigue. Raising an eyebrow, you leaned closer, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne mingling with the aromatic fumes wafting from the stove. “A challenge, huh? I think I’m up for it.”

His hand found its way to your waist as he moved around you, the touch intentional yet innocently casual. The heat radiated from where he held you, and the atmosphere thickened with unspoken desires, tension carved from every shared glance.

Dinner was a success—delicious and slightly chaotic, filled with laughter and lively conversation. Afterward, you both settled on the couch, the remnants of the meal cleared away. A bottle of wine was uncorked, and as the rich liquid flowed into your glasses, so too did the deeper conversations about life, ambition, and art. You shared pieces of yourself, opening up in a way that felt natural and liberating.

Nicholas listened intently, his focus unwavering, his eyes piercing through the dim light in the room. He shared stories from his childhood, the ups and downs of navigating fame, and the pressures that came with it. Each story unveiled another layer of the man you were growing to admire—not just his on-screen charm but the authenticity that lay beneath.

As the night wore on, the conversation took a flirtatious turn, lingering touches transitioning into palpable tension. The air was thick with anticipation, the quiet intensity building like a crescendo in a symphony. You could feel the magnetic pull between you, every brush of his hand against yours awakening a fire deep within.

In a moment that seemed suspended in time, he looked at you intently, a thousand emotions swirling in his gaze. “You have no idea how captivating you are,” he said softly, his voice low and husky.

Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. “And you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest.

Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, shared moment of longing finding its release.

Your heart raced, and you could barely find your voice. "And you have no idea what you’re doing to me," you replied, your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest. Just as the tension reached its peak, it snapped, and before you could register what was happening, his lips were on yours, urgent and filled with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface. The kiss was electric, igniting every nerve in your body. His hands cradled your face as if you were the most precious thing in the world, and you melted into him, every shared moment of longing finding its release.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses. You gasped as his teeth gently nipped at your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I love how you react to my touch."

You pulled him closer, your hands exploring the hard muscles of his back. "I want more," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Nicholas smiled, his eyes dark with lust. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt.

He lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes taking in every inch of your body. You stood there, vulnerable and exposed, yet feeling more confident than ever. His hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, making them harden instantly. You moaned, arching your back to press yourself against him.

Nicholas's mouth found your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he took it into his mouth, sucking and nipping gently. You cried out, your hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place. He moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention, making you squirm with pleasure.

His hands moved down your body, tracing the curve of your hips before slipping under the waistband of your skirt. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it gently through your panties. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "I can't wait to taste you."

He slid your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. You stepped out of them, standing before him completely naked. Nicholas knelt down, his hands on your thighs, spreading them apart. You braced yourself against the wall as his mouth found your pussy, his tongue licking you from your opening to your clit.

You moaned, your hips bucking against his face. Nicholas gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he continued to lick and suck you. His fingers found their way inside you, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue. "You taste so good," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin.

You could feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. "I'm close," you gasped, your hands clutching his hair. Nicholas looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Come for me," he said, his voice commanding. And with that, you did, your body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you.

Nicholas stood up, his lips covered in your juices. You pulled him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. "I want you inside me," you whispered against his mouth. He smiled, his cock hard and ready against your stomach. "I want that too," he said, his voice filled with lust.

Taste yourself on him, the taste of your desire and pleasure. He laid down next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

As your bodies cooled down, Nicholas whispered in your ear, "That was incredible." You smiled, your body still humming with pleasure. "It was," you agreed, your voice soft. Nicholas kissed your shoulder, his hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach.

The sun hung in the sky like a lazy star, casting golden rays on the bustling streets of Los Angeles. The city had a certain energy at noon—a buzz of laughter, chatter, and music that thrummed in the background as you and Nicholas made your way to a quaint café. You felt the familiar flutter in your stomach every time you laid eyes on him, this charming man who had flipped your world upside down since that fateful gala.

He was effortlessly stylish in a light denim jacket over a fitted t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled as though he’d just rolled out of bed. You, on the other hand, wore your confidence like your favorite dress; a royal blue sundress that swayed lightly with every step. The perfect dress for a casual afternoon felt like it had a purpose—to catch his eye, and today, it worked.

As you approached the entrance, Nicholas waved to a couple of fans who recognized him. They squealed in delight, their phones snapping pictures. A small smile played on his lips, but you could see the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. This was one of those moments when the reality of celebrity life hit hard.

You exchanged glances, your heart racing irrationally as he opened the door for you. “After you,” he grinned, revealing that perfectly straight line of teeth. Entering the café felt familiar and safe—a hidden gem filled with small wooden tables, rustic decor, and soft background music. As you settled in, the sunlight kissed your foreheads, creating a cozy atmosphere.

“So, are you ready for your first official sighting as my girlfriend?” Nicholas teased, leaning back in his chair, his arms casually resting against the wooden surface of the table.

Your cheeks flushed at that label—girlfriend. It was surreal how quickly everything had escalated since that magical charity gala. "I’m not sure I’m ready for the spotlight yet,” you replied cautiously, stirring your iced coffee with a straw, trying to mask the nervous excitement rising within you.

Nicholas leaned forward, his hair falling slightly into his eyes as he spoke softly, “You don’t have to be. I’ll protect you from the madness, I promise.” His intensity sent a jolt through you, an understanding of why you’d been drawn to this enigmatic man in the first place. There was sincerity in his voice like you were the only two people in the world at that moment.

You suddenly felt exposed in the café filled with fellow patrons, but the air between you shifted as he reached across the table and brushed his fingers lightly over your hand, a gesture so innocent yet electrifying. You fought to maintain composure; it was as if the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you drowning in each other’s gaze.

You laughed softly, attempting to lighten the mood. “What happens if we get caught in the act, huh? A scandalous photo of Nicholas Alexander Chavez holding hands with ‘mysterious girl’? That'll definitely pique the tabloids’ interest.”

His laughter echoed your own, bright and genuine. “Right? They’d paint me out to be a heartthrob dating a ‘nobody’—the things they’ll come up with!” He mirrored your playful tone, clearly enjoying the idea.

Just then, the bell above the café door jingled, and a few patrons turned their heads to you. You pressed your lips together, not wanting to draw attention but unable to hide your reaction. You required a steady heartbeat, but somehow, being out with him felt exhilarating, like you were both part of a bit of magical fiction.

After placing your order, you focused on light conversation, sharing stories of your work and traveling. But as you delved deeper, the atmosphere began to shift. You spoke of dreams and ambitions, and he listened with such intent that the heat between you grew palpable. It was as if you were no longer just a fan but two souls connecting, sharing experiences that transcended the celebrity facade.

“So, what’s your greatest dream?” he asked suddenly, his gaze unwavering, making you feel like the center of his universe.

“I suppose I want to create something…” you said hesitantly. “Something that resonates with people, like a book or a novel that could help someone out there feel less alone.” You bit your lip, unsure whether your vulnerability would push him away.

A smile of encouragement spread across Nicholas's features. “I love that. You have such a kind heart, wanting to uplift others. But I have to admit, I always thought your first dream would be to become an actress.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, that’s definitely not my path. I’ll leave the acting to you.”

“But you’d be fantastic—give it a try!” His enthusiasm shifted the conversation’s tone.

At that moment, your eyes locked, and the world around you faded again. His compliment lingered. In a cacophony of noise, it felt serene, amplifying the longing and tenderness brewing in the air.

As you finished lunch, Nicholas paid the bill, but before you could rise, he leaned in closer, whispering, “Want to take a walk? I think we could enjoy this beautiful weather.”

You nodded, heart racing as the waiter smiled knowingly at you both. The walk turned into a leisurely stroll down the picturesque street, but the quiet chatter and laughter from other customers filled the air. As couples passed, holding hands and giggling, doubt crept in. Would you fit into his world? Did you belong in a love story where the media followed every footstep?

Suddenly, someone shouted, “Nicholas!” from behind. You turned to see a group of people snapping photos and shouting questions.

Nicholas held your hand tighter, his protective instincts kicking in as he led you away, heart pounding. “Don’t worry; I won’t let them overwhelm you,” he reassured you, leading you down a quieter alleyway.

“Hiding from the paparazzi already?” you teased, the wild energy of the afternoon igniting a playful spark.

“I think for now, it’s better to avoid the spotlight… but I promise we’ll get used to it together.” He winked, the cheeky grin returning to his face.

Just then, you felt it—his fingers brushing lightly against yours as you navigated the narrow space between two buildings, the electricity crackling and their connections sparking:

His eyes met yours, the air growing thick with unexpressed emotions and unspoken promises. It was a moment that reminded you there was still magic in the world.

As you turned, you collided against him, leaning into his warmth, your pulse racing. “You’ll keep me safe, right?” you murmured, inviting vulnerability.

“Always,” he whispered, leaning ever closer, tantalizingly close yet challenging the rules of what was appropriate.

And in that sanctuary away from prying eyes and flashing cameras, you both indulged in the escalating tension, knowing the path ahead lay somewhere between public dreams and private desires. You were ready to embrace it.

The early morning sun poured through your window, casting a warm glow across your room. The excitement bubbling in your stomach was contagious, filling your thoughts as you prepared for a weekend that promised to be life-changing. Nicholas had invited you to a secluded beach house for a romantic getaway, a break from the intensities of the public eye and the constant buzz of Los Angeles. This was your chance to explore what had been building between you, surrounded by soft sand and the gentle sounds of the waves.

You slipped into a light sundress, the fabric flowing gracefully around your legs as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The vibrant colors highlighted your features, and you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Today wasn’t just another day; it was the beginning of an escape, a chance to relax and truly be yourself around Nicholas.

Arriving at the meeting point, you spotted Nicholas standing by his car, his face lit up with that captivating smile that made your heart race. He wore a casual ensemble: fitted jeans and a simple white T-shirt, yet he looked effortlessly handsome. As you approached, he greeted you with a warm hug, and a rush of butterflies fluttered through your stomach at the contact.

“Ready for the best weekend of your life?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You nodded, unable to form words. Instead, you climbed into the passenger seat, unable to suppress a grin as he slipped into the driver’s seat beside you. The car hummed to life, and with a quick glance your way, he put on a playlist of lighthearted tunes, instantly setting a cheerful tone for the road trip ahead.

As you pulled away from the city, the congested streets gave way to open roads flanked by tall trees and endless skies. You chatted about everything and nothing, laughter spilling easily between you—stories about childhood, your favorite places, dreams you hadn’t shared with anyone before. With each passing mile, your connection deepened, growing from a spark to a flame.

“Do you ever get used to the whole celebrity thing?” you asked, curiosity guiding your question.

Nicholas chuckled softly, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “Honestly? Sometimes it feels like a double life. The lights and glamour, yes, but then there’s just normal me, you know? I love moments like this—away from it all."

His candidness made you smile. “I can only imagine. What do you do to escape?”

He glanced at you, a playful glint in his eye. “I’m a pro at finding cozy little spots. But nothing quite like this weekend—with you, everything feels just right.”

The complimentary exchange of your thoughts flowed effortlessly, a gentle rhythm establishing between you both. Just as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you arrived at the beach house, a charming retreat nestled on the shore. The scents of salt and sea breeze welcomed you as you stepped out of the car.

“Welcome to paradise,” he declared theatrically, throwing his arms wide to encompass the view. The house was stunning, with large windows that framed views of the ocean, its soft roar beckoning you forward.

You took in the surroundings, feeling the magic of the setting. It was everything you’d dreamed of for a special weekend. Inside, the decor was warm and inviting, a mixture of coastal charm and modern amenities. Nicholas stepped over to the kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold

kitchen, a place where the evening’s culinary adventure would soon unfold.

“Any requests for dinner?” he asked, already pulling out pots and pans as if he had been preparing for this moment.

Your eyes lit up. “Surprise me! Just nothing too spicy—I’m not great with heat in my food,” you replied, good-naturedly teasing.

s he began preparing the meal, the kitchen transformed into a lively atmosphere. You took a content seat on the counter, watching him work. “You’re quite the chef,” you commented, impressed as he expertly diced vegetables, contrasting with the actor persona you had become accustomed to seeing on-screen.

“Oh, I dabble. Cooking is one of my favorite escapes. Want to help?”

He reached out, grabbing your hands and pulling you down to the floor, guiding you to stand beside him. The two of you continued the evening, creating delicious dishes and sharing flirtatious banter, his playful touches igniting electricity between you as he moved in close, his hands often resting on your waist or brushing your arms.

As the aromas of a delightful meal filled the air, the atmosphere gradually shifted. Dinner was served on the terrace, a beautiful candlelit setup overlooking the ocean. The flickering lights danced softly in the evening breeze, creating an intimate sanctuary away from the world.

With each bite, your conversation took on a deeper tone, revealing your hopes, dreams, and fears. Nicholas shared stories about his upbringing, moments that shaped him, and you reciprocated with your own stories, revealing layers of your life you rarely discussed. There was raw honesty in your exchanges, and the chemistry between you both became palpable.

Eventually, you transitioned from the terrace to the cozy living room, still wrapped in the warmth of each other’s company. A half-empty bottle of red wine sat on the coffee table, two glasses clinking softly as you filled them. Sparks of laughter and connection intertwined as you prepared to settle down.

Finally, as he leaned back against the couch, he turned toward you, a serious look replacing the lighthearted atmosphere. “Can I tell you something?” he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You nodded, curious.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. There’s something about you, something that pulls me in.”

Your heart raced, the raw honesty of his admission echoing loudly in the stillness of the room. You shifted closer, his gaze intoxicating.

“Me too, Nicholas,” you whispered back, your pulse quickening.

In that charged moment, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time. Nicholas leaned in, brushing a stray hair behind your ear with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. The tension between you escalated, magnetic and electric.

He paused, searching your eyes for permission. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was no denying the longing that sparked in the air.

Then, in an instant, all the teasing and banter that had built up between you both broke free. His lips met yours in a flurry of passion—soft, sweet, then deepening as he cupped your face in his hands. You melted against him, surrendering yourself to the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Yet, just when things began to escalate, you pulled away, breathless.

Time skip

It was one of those gloomy afternoons when the clouds hung low like a shroud over the bustling city. You had planned to spend the day curled up with a book and a cup of coffee, a comforting escape from the whirlwind of emotions that had become your life since dating Nicholas Alexander Chavez. However, as you scrolled through your phone, your relaxed intentions swiftly turned into a sensation of dread.

Your heart sank as you stumbled across the latest gossip blog, its headline screaming about Nicholas’s alleged romantic involvement with a co-star on set, someone whose name you recognized all too well. The article painted a scandalous picture, dripping with insinuation and wild conjecture. The infamous paparazzi photos were splashed across the screen, showing them laughing together: a moment that seemed innocent enough but was now twisted into a narrative that pricked at your insecurities.

hough you knew better than to believe everything you read, the fear gnawed at you. How could you ignore the whispers that echoed through your social media feed, fueled by both envy and intrigue? Your relationship with Nicholas had come with its share of challenges, but today felt particularly heavy.

You tossed your phone down, feeling the walls of your small apartment closing in. The truth was that the euphoria of dating a celebrity was fading, and the pressures were beginning to take a toll. You felt like a shadow of your former self, scared that the spotlight on him would ultimately burn you both.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in the kitchen, the scent of spaghetti sauce filling the air, an attempt at normalcy. Just as you were about to plate up dinner, your phone buzzed on the table. It was a call from Nicholas, and your heart quickened.

“Hey,” you managed to say, feigning nonchalance.

“Hey, you! I just wrapped up for the day. How are you?” His voice was warm, inviting, grounding, despite the distance.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to reply with enthusiasm, but the words caught in your throat. Silence stretched between you two as you contemplated how to broach the topic that loomed between you. Nicholas finally broke the silence, concern lacing his tone. “You there?”

“Yeah, just… saw something online.” You could hear the pitiful waver in your voice.

“What did you see?” He sounded wary, the weight of his career pressing down on both of you even over the phone.

You took another deep breath, knowing you had to be honest, yet fearing the repercussions. “The rumors about you and Jade …”

“Jade?” His voice instantly hardened, the warmth vanishing. “What rumors?”

You quickly explained the article, feeling more exposed with each word. You could almost feel him stiffen through the line as he processed the information. “That’s insane. It’s purely professional. We’re acting, Y/N! It’s work!”

“I know that,” you responded, a twinge of frustration creeping into your voice. “But everyone else doesn’t. I can’t— I don’t think I can handle this. All this scrutiny… it’s overwhelming.”

There was a heavy silence before he spoke again, his voice brimming with tension. “So you’re just going to believe what strangers think? I thought you knew me better than that.”

our heart raced as you protested, “It’s not that easy! You’re living in a different universe! I’m just… just trying to figure out if I fit into it.”

Are you saying you don’t want this?” His voice cracked, and you could feel the heat of the confrontation rising.

“I don’t know!” Tears pricked your eyes. “Maybe I’m just scared… scared that this isn’t real, that I’m just a passing thought for you.”

“Y/N, please—don’t say that.” His voice softened as if he could sense the fracture in your heart. “You’re not a passing thought. You’re everything to me. I’m just trying to keep everything balanced.”

“Is that really what this is about?” you asked, barely above a whisper. “Can you even make time for me with your crazy schedule?”

“I’m trying!” he snapped back, frustration spilling into the conversation. “Can’t you see I’m trying?”

The emotional storm swirling around you started to feel unbearable. “You’re not the only one who’s struggling, Nicholas. I love you, but I can’t keep fighting this war of doubts, not when every new headline feels like a dagger to the relationship we’ve built.”

His silence felt as heavy as the dense clouds outside. Finally, he sighed deeply. “I wish you could see how much I want this to work.”

Then show me,” you challenged, your voice trembling with vulnerability. “Show me how much I matter.”

A long pause hung in the air before he said, “I need you to trust me, Y/N. I’m all in—just give me the chance to prove it.”

The tension was palpable, a push and pull of raw emotions crashing in waves against the shore of your relationship. You both wanted to bridge the gap, but scarring doubts lingered like ghostly whispers, refusing to be easily banished.

“Alright,” you finally breathed, torn between belief and fear. “I’ll try.”

Good,” he replied softly, the warmth creeping back into his voice. “Just don’t shut me out, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.” With that, you decided to let the conversation end for now. A bittersweet sense of hope flickered within you, but still, the tension lingered, unresolved, heavy between you like a storm waiting to break.

As night fell, you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing for clarity. Your heart ached with uncertainty, leaving you to wonder if love could be enough to weather the darkest clouds. You just hoped that amidst the chaos, Nicholas would find a way to show you that your place in the storm was secure.

long shadows cast across your living room as you sat curled up on the couch, surrounded by a fortress of pillow cushions. The remnants of a half-eaten tub of your favorite ice cream lay abandoned beside you, and the TV buzzed in the background, but you couldn't concentrate on the screen. Your mind was tangled in knots, replaying everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks since that fateful argument with Nicholas.

He had stormed out after you accused him of being too wrapped up in his fame and his new co-star, Jade. You hadn't meant it to sound so harsh, but doubt had crept in, nurtured by the gossip blogs that twisted every picture of Nicholas and Jade into scandalous narratives. The backlash on social media was relentless, and it had hurt to see the way his fans celebrated every interaction with her. The moment had spiraled out of control, and you hadn’t seen him since.

Part of you had fought to suppress the nagging voice that whispered you were better off without him. But deep down, you knew that was a lie. Your heart ached with longing; the laughter you shared, the way his dark eyes sparkled when he told you stories from the set, and the intensity of the moments when it was just the two of you. It all felt like a dream slipping away and leaving nothing behind but confusion.

As you stared wistfully out of the window, a sudden vibration from your phone nearly startled you, pulling you from your reverie. Your heart raced as you picked it up. The screen lit up with Nicholas’s name, and for a moment, you hesitated. A part of you wanted to ignore it, to keep your distance and maintain the facade of being strong and self-sufficient. But the longing was almost unbearable, and you answered.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

Y/N,” he replied, his voice warm yet laced with an urgency that set you on fire. “Can we talk?”

“Yes,” you whispered, emotions swirling like a tempest inside you. His tone seemed both reassured and uncertain, a blend that made your stomach churn with anxiety. A few moments later, he announced, “I’m on my way.”

You nearly dropped the phone, panic intertwining with excitement in your chest. “Where? How?”

Just… meet me outside?” The call ended abruptly, leaving you both exhilarated and apprehensive. You sprang to your feet, the ice cream forgotten, rushing to compose yourself. You combed your fingers through your hair and replaced your sweatpants with a casual but flattering outfit. The wait felt like an eternity as you hovered near the window, glancing outside between drags of breaths.

Then you saw him, stepping out of an Uber, his familiar silhouette striking against the late afternoon sun. His hair tousled and a hint of stubble adorning his jawbone, he looked as if he had just walked out of a magazine cover—stunningly recognizable yet painfully human all at once. Your pulse quickened, a rush of love and anxiety engulfing you, surfacing just as he approached your door.

When you opened it, he stood there, his face a mixture of determination and vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings. The moment hung heavy between you, neither of you quite ready to bridge the gap that had formed during your time apart.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You nodded, stepping aside to allow him entry, and as you closed the door, a weight settled on your chest. He turned to face you, and in that instant, memories of laughter and shared moments flooded back, heavy with what you both had built amid the chaos of his celebrity life and escalating pressures.

Look,” Nicholas began, running a hand through his hair, a gesture you recognized as one of frustration. “I flew back from shooting just to talk to you. I needed to understand why…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Why I doubted you?” you supplied, your voice catching in your throat. “Why I called out your relationship with Jade as something it wasn’t?”

Exactly.” He drew closer, his intensity drawing you into a whirlpool of emotions. “You have every right to feel insecure, and if I made you feel that way... I’m sorry. But I want you to know it’s always been you for me. The glimpses of my world you saw were never meant to keep you out. It was never just publicity for me. This…” He stepped back slightly, motioning between you two. “This is real.”

Tears stung your eyes at the sincerity of his words. “What about the rumors? People say…”

People say a lot of things. I let the noise drown out our silence. I thought I could handle it, but losing you... it’s the worst part of all this.” His voice smoldered beneath layers of vulnerability. “I’d give up everything if it meant keeping you close.”

You swallowed hard, the echoes of his confession wrapping around your heart. “But can we manage this? Can love withstand all the chaos surrounding you?”

He took a step closer, invading the space with his presence, his warm breath mingling with yours. “We can fight for it. The world can be loud, but I want every moment I can steal with you. The quiet parts. The messy ones. The fights when we disagree. All of it.”

He was close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and for a moment, everything else faded—the doubts, the scrutiny, the world outside. It felt just like those stolen moments you had experienced before. “What if I can’t handle the spotlight?” you asked, your heart racing as you met his gaze.

Nicholas took your hand gently, brushing his thumb along your knuckles. “Then I’ll ensure you never have to face it alone. I’ll be there, holding your hand through every ordeal, every misunderstanding. We can figure this out together.”

His voice dropped to a husky whisper that made your heart flutter. The intensity between you was palpable, the distance collapsing into closeness until your lips were just inches apart. Your breath mingled with his as the weight of uncertainty melted into a spark of connection.

“I might need some convincing,” you teased lightly, searching for a way to ease the tension that had built. Nicholas grinned, and that boyish charm made your insides tingle.

"Then allow me." He closed the gap, capturing your lips with his, the kiss igniting everything you had been missing—desire and warmth swept over you like an all-consuming flame, melting away your fears. It was electric, each brush of his lips reminding you why you had fought so hard against doubt.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue teased your lips. You parted them, inviting him deeper, and he accepted the invitation with a hungry groan. His fingers trailed up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before they tangled in your hair, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss.

You melted into him, your body pressing against his as your hands explored the contours of his chest. The feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips made you ache for more. You broke the kiss, gasping for breath, and he trailed soft kisses down your neck, making you shiver.

You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "I could kiss you all night."

And I could let you," you whispered back, your voice barely audible over the music. "But I have a feeling there's more you want to do."

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made you shiver. "You're right, I want to see you," he said, his voice rough with need. "Every inch of you."

You smiled, slowly unbuttoning your blouse as his eyes followed your every move. He reached out, helping you slip it off your shoulders, his fingers brushing against your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

You're gorgeous," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he traced the line of your bra with his fingertips. "And I want to taste every inch of you."

He leaned down, his lips claiming yours once more as his hands unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. You gasped as his mouth found your nipple, his tongue circling the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth. You arched against him, a moan escaping your lips as he sucked and teased, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip as he made his way down to your waistband. He unbuttoned your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin as he slid them down your hips. You stepped out of them, standing before him in nothing but your panties.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You're amazing," he said, his voice a low growl. "And I want to make you feel amazing."

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down until they joined your jeans on the floor. You stood before him, completely naked, as he took a moment to appreciate every inch of your body.

"You're perfect," he said, his voice a low murmur. "Absolutely perfect."

He led you to his bed, laying you down gently before joining you. His hands explored your body, his touch gentle yet firm as he traced the line of your thigh, his fingers brushing against your most intimate place. You gasped, your hips arching against his touch as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb circling your clit.

You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me."

ou nodded, your breath coming in short gasps as he added another finger, his pace increasing as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

Come for me," he whispered, his voice a command as his thumb pressed against your clit. You cried out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

He kissed you gently, his fingers still inside you as he slowly pulled them out. You could feel the emptiness, the ache for more, and you knew that you wanted him inside you.

e rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him, his cock hard and ready against your entrance. You guided him inside, gasping as he filled you completely. You began to move, your hips rising and falling as you found your rhythm.

He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your thrusts, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that filled the room. You could hear your own moans, the sound of your breath as it caught in your throat, the feel of his cock inside you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Faster," you gasped, your body aching for more. "Harder."

He obliged, his hips thrusting upwards as he met your downward strokes, his cock slamming into you with a force that made you cry out. You could feel the pleasure building again, your body tensing as you rode him, your fingers gripping his shoulders for support.

Yes," you gasped, your body convulsing as another orgasm washed over you, leaving you breathless and shaking. You could feel him inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his own release, his body tensing as he came with a low groan.

You collapsed against him, your body slick with sweat as you struggled to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

"That was amazing," he said, his voice a low murmur as he kissed the top of your head. "Absolutely amazing."

You smiled, your body still tingling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. "It certainly Was"

Nicholas drew you closer, kissing you deeper, his hands weaving into your.

“Let’s not let anything come between us again,” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

“I want that too,” you replied, the tension of unresolved issues still swirling in the air. But there was something vibrant, something alive in the way his gaze held yours.

Nicholas paused, his expression turning serious once more, “I’ll fight for you, Y/N. Always.”

_________

BYEEE LONGEST FIC EVER.. #needthat

Comments are much appreciate I love it 😋

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 200 }

tender love and care.

sylus x (non mc)fem.reader

because you were labeled as sylus’s woman while here at the n109 zone, you were given several special privileges that made you just as powerful (if not, than more so) as sylus solely because you had such a man wrapped around your fingers.

you recall the date that marked your three month anniversary with him, where sylus gifted you a ruby, teardrop necklace with a matching ring as he told you the significance of his gift immediately,

“each time you walk out to explore the city and head out to work when i’m not around, these rubies will be a reminder to others that you are mine. that you’re under my constant protection, and should anyone dare to disturb your life, i’ll be there to teach them a lesson they shall never forget.”

even the memory of the passion in his voice, coupled along with the way he playfully bites down on your ring finger was enough to make you shiver in response.

the fact that you held his heart within the palm of your very hands filled you with a sense of unbidden joy, where you wanted to do nothing more than to litter his face with gentle butterfly kisses and shower him with the type of unconditional love he had been missing from his entire life.

and you had been with him ever since, never once regretting your decision to remain by his side.

currently, due to certain circumstances at work where several people had called out sick, you were forced to work a double shift. you did your best to cover for your missing coworkers as your supervisor gave you a grateful expression. once your shift ended later that evening, he allows you to take the rest of the week off as a thank you for all your hard work. despite the exhaustion you felt, you couldn’t ignore the undeniable happiness that courses through your veins.

as you step out of your workplace, you were immediately greeted by sylus. he was parked directly in front of your workplace building while leaning against his motorcycle. a grumpy expression was seen on his face, painting his handsome features in a scowl as the sight of it all made you giggle in response. all too eager to see him, you stop directly in front of him and allow his arms to automatically encircle around your form.

“i should kill that boss of yours for making you take over.” he growls into your ear, clearly upset. you tighten your arms around him in hopes of calming him down when you admit to him, “hey, there’s no need to be so grumpy. in fact, my boss was kind enough to give me the rest of the week off thanks to my hard work.”

upon hearing your words, sylus visibly relaxes, pressing a kiss against your lips before tossing you your helmet. it was specially designed in your favorite color, and you couldn’t help but smile at it for a moment as you held your helmet within your hands. sylus ends up donning his helmet first before getting on his bike, turning back to narrow his eyes at you, silently gesturing at you to get on.

with a playful roll of your eyes, you wear your helmet and get on behind sylus, wrapping your arms around his front. he places his hands over your folded arms, giving it a brief squeeze before revving up the bike and making its descent out into the city. knowing that he chose to take the scenic route back home, you take a moment to admire how brightly the city lights shone like gemstones beneath the moonlight. giggles were heard escaping from your parted lips, and oddly enough, sylus was able to hear the sounds of your laughter as he briefly gives your arm another squeeze with one hand before navigating expertly across the streets.

quite some time passes before you and sylus return to your shared penthouse apartment. he parks in his usual spot before taking off his and your respective helmets, holding them both in one hand while interlocking his fingertips with yours in the other. despite how you had been with him for close to two years now, your feelings never once went stale for him. you were just as in love and enamored with him as the first day, the day when you had just met him.

while riding the elevator with him to the top floor, you cuddled your body closer to his shoulder, earning a knowing smirk from him as he gives your hands a gentle squeeze in response. when you both finally reach the top floor, you watch sylus as he takes long strides toward the penthouse all while unlocking it with his key.

the moment you enter your shared home. you were immediately hit with the mouth watering scent of your favorite takeout, seeing it all spread out on the coffee table. you were so happy to enjoy all of your favorite foods with sylus that you couldn’t help but lean in to give him a chaste kiss.

“you’re spoiling me, my grumpy crow.” you tell him while framing at his face.

he scoffs before taking your hand, gently biting down against it with his crimson eyes twinkling with mischief and love for you, “anything for you, darling.”

sylus gestures at you to enjoy the meal first, moving to the side to place his keys on the counter along with storing your helmets. with your stomach growling, you take a box and dig in with your fork while settled on the couch, moaning at how delicious everything tasted. a few minutes later, sylus returns back to you with his arms crossed, clearly amused at the way you kept stuffing your face.

“how cute.” he hums before catching you off guard, choosing to pick you up from the couch as he settles you on his lap. your cheeks were felt heating up in response, yet still, you were comfortable enough to cuddle yourself even closer to his chest while continuing to eat.

you both enjoyed the rest of your late dinner, with you spoiling sylus by feeding him bites of your food and vice versa with him as well. by the time you finished your meal, you felt so full that you could barely move, choosing to land against him when sylus places the empty boxes and utensils on the table.

“what’s this? has my princess had her fill?” you cough at how suggestive he sounded, hiding your face within his shoulder as you playfully bit down against it. a low groan was heard coming from him, and you let out a soft, victorious laugh while telling him, “sy, i’m too tired and full to move… can you carry me?”

he feigns annoyance with a huff of your name, but doesn’t deny you of your wishes (he never could deny you). with a grunt, he stands back to his full height while carrying you in his arms, bridal style. you end up giggling profusely at the sensation, burying your head within his shoulder as he leads you to your shared bedroom and opens the door to the master bathroom.

setting you against the counter, sylus helps with taking off your clothes, leaving you bare for him as he does the same. you were given a moment to admire his delicious body, eyes tracing at the muscles that decorate the entirety of his godlike body. he sees your hungry stare and smirks before taking you in his arms once more. he begins to hum an unfamiliar turn, but you bask in this uncharacteristic softness exuding from the leader of onychinus (a side he only saves for you).

while keeping you in his embrace, he fills his luxurious, porcelain tub with warm water, adding your favorite scented bubbles within it before entering it with you. with his back settled against the tub, your own back was pressed against the front of his chest. you let out a soft moan upon feeling the hot waters surrounding you. the sensation of it coupled with the way sylus’s large hands began massaging at your shoulders was enough to make you practically melt against him.

you were dimly aware of his rich chuckles against your ear, dozing off against his gorgeous body. sylus works on washing your form while lathering your hair with shampoo, the sensation of it all earning a series of soft purrs from you.

“heh, is my kitten satisfied?”

you merely let out a hum in response, moving your head to the side as you allowed sylus to give the newly revealed skin of your neck a series of reverent kisses. once he was satisfied with cleaning you, rinsing your body free of any soap suds, he gets out of the bathtub while still holding you within his embrace.

never once does he leave your side. from drying your body with a plush towel, to helping you get into your sleeping clothes, sylus takes spoiling you with care to the next level. and by the time he reaches your shared bedroom while placing you in bed, you were already half asleep.

as you lay beneath the covers, body curled as you remained cuddled to him, sylus takes a moment to admire you. his long fingertips were felt brushing through your damp hair as he manages to capture a wet strand within his grasp, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss against it.

“i bet you have no idea what you do to me…” his gruff whisper was directed toward you, but it was clear that you were so deep in your slumber that you didn’t hear him. with a huff of your name, sylus reaches over his nightstand to pull out a tiny, velvet box. upon opening it, it would be revealed to contain your dream engagement ring.

as his gaze focuses on you, he takes a hold of your left hand with a hum, sliding the ring against your left ring finger before admiring it. a smirk paints his handsome expression when he leans closer to press a kiss against your ring.

“once you awaken… then you’ll know that my promises of forever has always been true and not simply a play on words. i hope you’re prepared to be mine, my darling love.”

and despite how you were in a deep sleep, sylus could have sworn he saw you smiling in response to his fervent promises of forever.

a.n. - don’t mind me, this is just a self indulgent mess that i need in my life. i love sylus so much;;; i need him so badly 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Different DNA

Summary - A deeply vulnerable Jace struggles with insecurity, and as his wife, her sole job is to reassure him and make him feel cherished, using every means at her disposal.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2246

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Jacaerys Velaryon was undeniably a different breed, and everyone knew it. As his wife, my role was to ensure he always felt valued for who he was, despite what anyone else might say.

"They were saying it again," he murmured, resting his head against my chest as we lay together on our bed. I gently stroked his hair, feeling his soft sighs of contentment against my skin.

"You're not like the others," I said, and he looked up at me with his deep brown eyes, full of vulnerability. "And that's okay," I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his face as he closed his eyes momentarily as if trying to believe my words.

"They called me plain-featured," he confessed, his voice tinged with sadness that cut through me like a knife. 

The pain in his eyes was unmistakable, and it broke my heart to see him so wounded by the cruel judgments of others.

"You're different, but they don't understand you" I reassured him, my fingers tracing his cheek tenderly. He leaned into my touch, seeking comfort like a cat craving affection.

"But... maybe they're right," he whispered, his voice trembling with doubt. "Maybe I am plain, unremarkable. How could someone like you love someone like me?"

"You my love are from a whole other world, a different dimension," I said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "They can't see what I see, Jace. They don't know you like I do."

His eyes filled with unshed tears, and he looked away, unable to meet my gaze. "I do not deserve you," he said, his voice breaking as his insecurities came to the surface.

I couldn't bear to see him like this, so vulnerable, yet so strong. I wanted to protect him from the world that seemed intent on tearing him down. My heart ached at his words. I cupped his face, gently turning his head so he had no choice but to look at me. 

"Jace, listen to me," I said, my voice firm but full of love. "You open my eyes to things I never knew existed. You bring light into my life. You're everything I could ever want or need. And I'm ready to follow you, to be with you, no matter where that leads."

His eyes searched mine as if he was trying to find the truth in my words, the reassurance that he so desperately needed. 

He shifted then, moving to kneel in front of me, his hands cradling my face with a mix of reverence and desperation.

"Kiss me," I murmured, my eyes locking onto his, my need for him as clear as the love I felt.

"Make me yours, completely, permanently," I continued, my voice soft but intense.

He hesitated for a moment, his insecurities still holding him back, but then he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a kiss filled with desperate longing. 

The kiss was deep and passionate, as if he was trying to pour all of his emotions into that single act, to show me how much he needed me.

His hands roamed over my body, urgent and possessive, as he gently pushed me down onto the bed. Every touch was a blend of hunger and tenderness, and I could feel the intensity of his need in the way his fingers explored my skin.

"Take me," I whispered when he momentarily pulled away to catch his breath. My voice, laced with urgency, echoed in the quiet of the room. 

"Take me," I repeated, my words a plea, a command.

He responded by trailing kisses along my shoulder, his lips warm and soft against my skin. 

Slowly, he began to untie the delicate ribbon that held my nightgown together, each movement deliberate, as if savouring the moment. 

My body arched into him, craving more, while my own hands slid beneath his tunic, feeling the hard planes of his muscular stomach beneath my fingertips.

With practised ease, he pulled the fabric of my nightgown down, discarding it carelessly to the side. His mouth continued its journey, leaving small, wet kisses along my chest, each one igniting a spark of pleasure within me.

"You're so perfect," he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with need. "I can't believe you're mine."

Jace was always a generous lover, ensuring that I was left satisfied and comfortable whenever we lay together but tonight, I wanted to give him the same level of attention, the same pleasure he so selflessly offered me.

I placed my hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. He stared at me, confusion flickering in his eyes as if wondering if he had done something wrong. I simply smiled a silent reassurance and pushed him further until he was lying down completely.

"Let me," I whispered, my voice gentle but firm. 

Slowly, I removed his pants, savouring the way his body responded to my touch, the way he shivered under my fingertips. Once he was fully exposed, I straddled him, leaning in close, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping me as if he couldn't bear to let go. "I need you so much."

"You have me," I whispered back, trailing my fingers along his chest. "All of me. Just relax, and let me take care of you."

I began kissing down his neck, trailing my lips over his collarbone and along his chest. My kisses continued their descent until I reached his arousal, the anticipation building with each passing second. 

I glanced up at him, wanting to see his reaction, and was met with the sight of pure bliss in his eyes as he watched me.

A smirk played on my lips as I traced the tip of his hardened length with my tongue. His body immediately tensed, a soft groan escaping his lips at the sensation. 

"Gods, you're incredible," he moaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "I love the way you touch me."

"Does it feel good?" I asked, my voice low and sultry as I continued to tease him with my tongue, my hand gently stroking him.

"So good," he gasped, his eyes dark with desire. "You're perfect."

I pushed my head further down, taking him into my mouth, the taste of him intoxicating. I maintained eye contact, ensuring he could see the pleasure I was giving him. 

Slowly, I began to move up and down, my lips and tongue working in tandem to bring him the same satisfaction he always gave me.

His hands found their way to my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled softly, guiding me with gentle encouragement. 

"You feel so good," he murmured, his voice trembling. "I need more of you... I need all of you."

The sounds of his pleasure filled the room, and I knew without a doubt that this night would be one neither of us would ever forget.

As I continued to pleasure him with my mouth, his soft groans turned into deep, guttural moans that reverberated through the room. I could feel his body tensing beneath me, every muscle taut with the overwhelming sensations I was giving him. His usually composed expression was completely undone.

His fingers tightened in my hair, and his hips began to move instinctively, thrusting gently in rhythm with my movements.

I trailed my tongue along the sensitive underside of his length, feeling the way he shuddered in response. I could tell he was fighting to stay still, his hips twitching as he tried to keep from thrusting too forcefully, but I welcomed his need. 

I wanted him to lose control, to surrender to the sensations I was coaxing from his body.

His hands, still tangled in my hair, tightened their grip, and I could feel the barely restrained power in his touch, the way he held back despite the overwhelming pleasure.

I adjusted my angle, allowing him to push even deeper, and the sound that escaped his lips was pure ecstasy.

He was on the edge, teetering between holding on and letting go, and I revelled in the knowledge that I had brought him to this point. His normally steady voice was laced with desperation, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Please... don't stop... gods, please..."

His hands fell to his sides, clutching the sheets as he fought to stay grounded. His control was slipping, and I could feel it in the way his thighs trembled beneath me, the way his breath caught in his throat with every flick of my tongue.

But I wasn't finished. I wanted more, needed to feel the full connection between us. 

Slowly, I eased off, letting him slip from my lips, and I looked up at him, his face flushed with pleasure and his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The sight of him, so utterly undone, sent a surge of desire through me, and I knew exactly what I wanted next.

I moved up his body, my hands trailing along his skin as I positioned myself above him. His eyes were locked on mine, filled with a mix of longing and gratitude as if he couldn't quite believe the pleasure I was about to offer him.

"You're my everything," he whispered, his hands caressing my hips. "I've never needed anyone like I need you."

With a slow, deliberate motion, I straddled him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against me. I reached down, guiding him to my entrance, teasing both of us with the promise of what was to come. 

"Ready for me?" I asked softly, a teasing smile playing on my lips as I hovered above him.

"I'm always ready for you," he replied, his voice hoarse with desire.

His hands moved to my hips, holding me gently but firmly as if trying to ground himself in the reality of the moment.

I lowered myself onto him inch by inch, gasping softly as he filled me. The sensation of him inside me was almost overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection that made me feel like we were two halves of the same whole. 

His eyes fluttered shut, and a deep moan escaped his lips as I began to move. I started with a slow, steady rhythm, letting us both savour the feeling of being joined together. 

"How does that feel?" I asked, my voice low and breathy as I moved against him, my hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles.

"Incredible," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tighter, guiding me as I rode him. "You're everything I've ever wanted."

"Good," I whispered, leaning forward to kiss him, my lips brushing against his as I spoke. "Because I'm not stopping until I drive you crazy."

Every time I lowered myself onto him, a wave of pleasure washed over me, building in intensity with each passing second.

I leaned forward, bracing my hands on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my palms. 

The look of sheer ecstasy on his face fueled my desire, and I began to move faster, grinding my hips against him as I sought the release that was building deep within me.

"You like that?" I asked, my voice breathless as I moved harder against him, my body trembling with the intensity of the sensations.

"Gods, yes," he gasped, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Don't stop, please..."

"I won't," I promised, my voice a mix of determination and desire. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

His hands roamed up my back, tracing the curves of my body as I rode him harder. Our breaths came in sync, each gasp and moan a testament to the connection we shared. The intensity of the moment grew, our movements more urgent, more desperate as we both approached the edge.

I threw my head back, a cry of pleasure escaping my lips as I felt myself teetering on the brink. He thrust up into me, meeting me with equal fervour, his own release not far behind. I could feel the tension building between us, the inevitable climax drawing nearer with every thrust, every movement.

Finally, the wave of pleasure crashed over me, and I cried out, my body trembling with the force of my orgasm. A moment later, he followed, his release spilling into me as he moaned my name, his voice thick with emotion.

"Gods, you're perfect," he whispered as the aftershocks of our lovemaking coursed through us. "I don't deserve you, but I'll spend every day trying to."

"You deserve everything," I whispered back, my voice full of affection as I leaned down to kiss him, our bodies still connected.

We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies intertwined, both of us trembling in the aftermath of our shared ecstasy. I collapsed onto his chest, my breath still coming in ragged gasps, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as we both came down from the high.

The room was quiet except for the sound of our breathing, the warmth of our bodies creating a cocoon of comfort around us.

I nuzzled into his neck, placing a soft kiss on his skin as I whispered, "You're everything to me, Jace."

He tightened his hold on me, his voice barely more than a whisper as he replied, "And you're my entire world." His voice was filled with a mix of devotion and awe. "I'll never stop loving you."

We stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, until sleep finally claimed us both, our hearts still beating in perfect harmony, knowing that no matter what the world said, our love was the only thing that truly mattered.

A/n - Saw an edit of him to this song (ET by Katy Perry) on TikTok and practically bolted to write this also really mad rn cause I just spent the last three days writing a 12 part series for Jace and like initially I loved it and then towards the end I was like tf is this, I literally have over 30,000 words just sitting there now.

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 2

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

" I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. "

- J.D. Salinger, The catcher in the rye

Part 1 • Part 3 • 4 • 5

Y/N blinked, trying to get her bearings in the soft morning light streaming into her bedroom. She wasn’t on the sofa anymore, and she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep in her bed last night. But here she was, tucked neatly under her comforter, and beside her, separated by a few pillows, lay Aubrey. She was asleep, her face softened by rest, her features even more striking in the early morning calm.

A smile crept across Y/N’s face as she studied Aubrey’s peaceful expression. She was undeniably beautiful—not just beautiful for her age, but in a way that felt timeless and grounded. It made Y/N’s stomach flutter, and a slight pang of insecurity hit her; Aubrey was everything Y/N admired—confident, talented, and effortlessly alluring.

Feeling her heart race at the thought of Aubrey waking up to see her staring, Y/N slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, padding to the bathroom for a quick shower. When she returned, she busied herself in the kitchen, quietly making breakfast. The faint hum of the radio kept her company as she toasted bread and scrambled eggs, relishing the simple, cozy act.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice murmured, soft and sleepy, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

Y/N turned, catching sight of Aubrey leaning against the doorway, her hair still mussed from sleep. She looked comfortable, yet somehow effortlessly poised, even in Y/N’s small kitchen. Y/N blushed, realizing how close they were.

“Good morning! Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asked, smiling. “I don’t really drink coffee, but I can go grab you some from the café around the corner if you’d like.”

Aubrey’s lips curved into a warm smile. “No need, this is perfect. I’m just happy to be here.” She stepped closer, glancing at the plates Y/N was setting up.

“So… not to rush you out, but I have a mountain of work today,” Y/N said with a small, guilty grin. “You’re welcome to stay, but just a heads-up—I might be a little boring.”

Aubrey laughed, her expression softening. “That’s okay, I get it. I have some things to get to anyway.” She hesitated, then continued, “But… I’d love to see you again, if you’d like that.”

Y/N’s face lit up, her smile wide and genuine. “I’d love that too.”

From then on, their connection only grew. They read together, taking turns with books y/n recommended, and spent hours talking about everything from their childhood dreams to favorite movies. After their third date—a late-night visit to a bookstore followed by a stroll through a quiet park—Aubrey walked Y/N home. They held hands, a shared warmth between them, and when they reached Y/N’s door, Aubrey leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. It was careful, as if reading Y/N’s shyness and matching it with tenderness.

As the days turned into weeks, they grew more comfortable, falling into each other’s lives seamlessly. Aubrey was patient, taking her time to get to know Y/N. She made Y/N feel safe, and Y/N adored every minute they spent together. Soon, they were FaceTiming in between meetings, texting about little things that made them think of each other, and finding moments to be together whenever they could.

When they finally crossed that last boundary, sharing their first night together, it was both gentle and passionate. They communicated, both eager yet considerate, learning each other’s wants and needs. Aubrey’s natural confidence took over, her assertiveness balanced by her desire to make Y/N feel loved and respected. Y/N, in turn, was just as attentive, savoring every moment with Aubrey, discovering a balance between playful and deeply intimate.

Two months into their relationship, it wasn’t just the two of them who noticed how special their connection was. After a dinner date, a paparazzi photographer managed to capture a candid shot of them leaving the restaurant hand in hand. By morning, the image was everywhere, spreading faster than Y/N could have imagined.

Aubrey’s publicist called with the news, explaining that the story had already taken off. Y/N knew Aubrey was a public figure, but she hadn’t expected their private moments to become public conversation so suddenly. Their little bubble was shattered, and suddenly her face was online, next to Aubrey’s in articles and tabloid stories speculating about their relationship.

The attention was overwhelming. Y/N’s friends started teasing her about dating “the Aubrey Plaza,” while her family’s reaction was more complicated. They had always known she was queer, but the age difference gave them pause, making them wonder if Y/N was really ready for such a serious relationship.

As the media frenzy grew, it was hard for Y/N to brush off the harsh comments online—insinuations about why Aubrey would date someone younger, or assumptions about Y/N’s motives. It felt as if the world was intruding into their private life, prying apart the joy they had found together.

But Aubrey was her anchor through it all. Late one evening, after Y/N shared how overwhelmed she felt, Aubrey wrapped her arms around her and whispered, “Forget them. I know who you are, and you know who I am. The rest… it doesn’t matter.”

They held each other close that night, letting the world outside fade, finding comfort in each other’s presence. And as they lay there, Y/N knew that, no matter the scrutiny, what she shared with Aubrey was real, something worth fighting for—even if they’d have to face the world together, one step at a time.

As days went on, the intensity of the media attention didn’t exactly die down, but Y/N and Aubrey learned to adjust. Aubrey handled it with practiced ease, guiding Y/N with little tips on how to ignore the comments and dodge prying eyes. Despite the pressure, they found solace in each other, learning to carve out quiet moments that felt like their own little world.

One evening, they decided to stay in for a movie night at Y/N’s apartment. Y/N had loaded up a few of Aubrey’s favorite old films, trying her best to make it feel special—a few candles, some popcorn, and a cozy blanket they could share.

“You know,” Aubrey said, settling down next to Y/N, “I don’t think I’ve had a better night in ages.” She glanced around, smiling at the thoughtful touches Y/N had put together. “You really went all out.”

Y/N blushed, nudging her playfully. “It’s just popcorn and candles. Hardly a red carpet.”

Aubrey smirked, tilting her head. “It’s the thought, and you, that make it perfect.” She reached for Y/N’s hand, entwining their fingers, and squeezed gently.

As the movie started, they fell into a comfortable silence, Y/N nestled into Aubrey’s side. The world outside felt far away, reduced to nothing more than the faint city hum in the distance. Halfway through the film, Aubrey leaned over and softly kissed Y/N’s forehead, her lips lingering just a little longer than usual. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping as she met Aubrey’s gentle gaze.

“Thank you for sticking with me through all of this,” Aubrey murmured, tucking a loose strand of Y/N’s hair behind her ear.

Y/N’s hand found its way to Aubrey’s cheek, tracing the soft lines of her face. “I’m not going anywhere. I knew this might be hard, but… you’re worth it.” She offered a small, reassuring smile. “And I’m learning. I mean, I’ve got the best teacher.”

Aubrey chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, just so you know.”

They spent the rest of the night laughing, sharing stories, and talking about the little things they hadn’t yet told each other. Y/N felt a kind of warmth she hadn’t felt before—a love that was both grounding and freeing, as if Aubrey had opened up parts of herself she didn’t know existed.

A few weeks later, they decided to spend a weekend out of the city, heading to a secluded cabin by the lake. Aubrey had rented it on a whim, sensing that they both needed a little time to breathe away from the constant hum of the city.

On their first morning there, Y/N woke up to the smell of coffee and soft music playing. She wandered out to find Aubrey on the deck, wrapped in a flannel blanket with two mugs steaming in her hands. The sun was just rising, casting a soft pink glow over the lake.

Aubrey turned when she heard Y/N approach, her eyes lighting up. “Morning, sleepyhead. Thought you’d like to join me for the sunrise.” She handed Y/N a mug of tea, remembering she didn’t drink coffee.

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun climb slowly above the horizon, casting a shimmering path across the water. It was quiet, almost surreal, and Y/N felt the weight of everything slip away, replaced with the calm of being completely at peace in the moment.

After a while, Aubrey shifted, turning toward Y/N. “You know,” she said softly, “this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

Y/N looked at her, her heart swelling at the sincerity in Aubrey’s eyes. “I feel the same way,” she whispered. Then, unable to resist, she leaned in, capturing Aubrey’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

As they pulled away, Aubrey grinned, her eyes shining with something close to wonder. “I don’t care about the noise, Y/N. As long as I have you, I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Y/n beamed at her

"So, what are we reading today?" Aubrey asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence

"I thought maybe 'the catcher in the rye, its a classic"

Aubrey nodded before pulling the younger woman into another soft kiss.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other and the quiet beauty of the morning, with their book and hot drinks, feeling as if, just for that moment, they were the only two people in the world.

_____

Just a quick note:

i dont really think itll be a series, maybe a bunch of chapters that might actually work as a full story or at least the same like universe, but im not sure if ill continue to write it regularly or not so just an heads up.

Also im in love with Aubrey plaza.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write about the reader being either Ford or stans controversially young spouse? Like they're close to their 20s instead of their 60s

Ooh to be their controversially younger spouse what a dream I wish I could live lmao 🤣

Before you became Ford’s spouse, the man would always use the age gap between you two as the sole reason as to why you shouldn’t be together romantically, he’s sweating bullets and loosing sleep over it because it’s just so glaringly obvious to him that you shouldn’t.

However this was all just a cover up for the fact that he did indeed feel things for you in a romantic sense. You were great with Dipper and Mabel, encouraging their passions and even getting involved in them should they need someone to be dazzle in gems or go out into the woods to look for the supernatural.

You even got along with Stan, which was only an added bonus for Ford but still he kept reminding himself that he was far, far too old for you that he might as well have been old enough to be your father/ grandfather! Wasn’t that enough to disturb you?

He knew some people held a liking towards older people but believed it was more for their wisdom and life experience, not the romantic kind.

Apparently it wasn’t because Ford accidentally over heard a conversation between you and Wendy regarding his age;

Wendy: isn’t he too old for you?

You: negative, I love older men. Especially older men who are smart, a little socially awkward and plays dungeons, dungeons and more dungeons.

Wendy: …respect dude.

Needles to say after hearing that Ford’s face became as red as cherries and his worries regarding how you felt towards the age difference seemed to have dwindled slightly, but still he worried that others would view you as weird for being with a man more then twice your own age.

Sure there wasn’t many…worthy candidates to date in Gravity falls but surely he couldn’t be the only one worth your gaze? Mabel must’ve at least tried to set you up on more then one occasion, but according to her you just never seemed to jell with the people she set you up with, saying that you had a distant look in your eyes as though you could be anyone else then at the date.

When Mabel confronted you about it one day, you told her that you liked men a little older then you, Mabel then asked why but you only ruffled her hair and told her that she might see the vision one day. Ford was now being presented with more proof that you would be more then content with dating him, it was undeniable and he even indirectly heard it from your own mouth, so what else could he possibly be held back by?

Fear and rejection from society if they ever were to see you both in a romantic setting?

Then again you both lived in gravity Falls and there were things far weirder than an 20 year old dating a 60 -pushing 70- year old man. And thus began Ford’s new hypothesis; how to win over a 20 year old’s heart.

After you stated dating, you beating the other ladies and men off with a stick because that sexy silver fox was yours! FINALLY! It was your turn to have a sexy older man in your bed!

Other then that you loved being with Ford as no two days were the same, you could be going out with him to look for supernatural as a date, thankfully surviving when Ford got a little distracted by spouting facts on what was trying to kill you both and ending up sat on the porch of the mystery shack and laughing together afterwards.

Or be in his lab and watching him work while admiring how handsome he looked with greying hair and an aging face, but Ford would see it otherwise and become a little insecure and reserved.

‘Don’t you think it weird?’ He’d ask you one day.

‘About us?’ You didn’t have to hear him respond when you knew that Ford was still a little uncertain with your age difference still after seemingly accepting it. You sigh and walked over to him and sat on his lap, making him blush and his eyes widen as you hold his face between your hands.

‘Ford, sweetie I don’t care about what they think, I’m just glad that I got to be with you after pinning for so long. I understand this is new for you but all I ask is that you trust me,’ you kissed his nose softly, ‘and trust in our relationship, there’s nothing weird about it unless you make it weird.’ You add with a smile as Ford rested his head against you, his hands now resting comfortably on your waist.

‘You’re right my sweet,’ Ford said, ‘I’m just worried that you might find someone close to your age more appealing then some old man.’ You couldn’t help but chuckle as you leant further into him.

‘Who could I ever find more appealing than you mr sixer?’ You asked rhetorically, ‘you’re more than perfect the way you are and I’m the lucky bastard who gets to call you mine, so everyone else can stay jealous for all I care knowing I have the most perfect man ever.’ You add as you kissed his lips this time and smiling when Ford reciprocated it with his sweeter, soft kiss.

You probably have moments where you recall something Ford wouldn’t understand and Ford would reference something that was older than you, it’s funny regardless of how you looked at it.

Ford’s body still has aches and pains despite keeping himself healthier than Stanley and so you would help him during these times and coddle him lovingly, while reminding him that he needed to take it easy on himself once in a while.

Ford apologises for it but you only shut him up and remind him that he has nothing to apologise for.

You didn’t treat each other differently because of your ages, if anything you made Ford feel young again and Ford gifted you advice and made you feel just that little bit smarter, which boosted your confidence in yourself. It was a beautiful relationship that was pure and sweet it could give anyone cavities.

Stanley didn’t give a shit you were dating his brother, he knew you liked men above a certain age when you kept eye fucking Ford whenever he walked past you, or how Ford would look at you longingly when you weren’t looking . He saw this shit coming from a mile away as it wasn’t exactly subtle on either end and may have made a bet with Wendy about how soon you’d come to him to announce you were dating his brother.

Stanley won the bet much to Wendy’s dismay.

You saw Ford shirtless once and went apeshit much to his surprise because weren’t people your age into six packs and hairless upper bodies?

Nope, not you, you loved his tummy and body hair that you clung to his side and spent the afternoon kissing his scars and embarrassing tattoos he kept covered in turtlenecks while whispering reassurance that reminded him that you were attraction to him was more then surface level. Ford would return the favour when you had episodes of insecurity would remains you of such by comparing your every insecurity to something beautiful.

Acne? Constellations/ clusters of stars

Stretch marks? Lighting strikes

You’ve got a tummy and thick thighs? Didn’t you know that they(thick thighs) saved lives?!

Needless to say that you came out with a newfound love for yourself afterwards.

You constantly held his hand and kissed each finger to show that you didn’t care about anything but him and his wellbeing, it warmed Ford’s heart as he found to love himself a little more with your help, and in doing so he was able to show you love by kissing your cheek in greeting or making you breakfast in bed or draping his coat over your shoulders when he saw that you were cold.

It was sweet and innocent but still it was enough to have you smiling and feel loved, which is all Ford ever wanted you to feel while with him.

Ford’s love was chivalrous, stubborn and awkward, but you wouldn’t want it any other way as you wanted Ford just the way he was and thrived when you saw his eyes gleam with excitement as he makes a discovery, leading him to grasp your face and kiss you on the lips while holding you close to his chest as he explained what he had done; all the while you stared at him with awe and love because he was really attractive when he was talking about things he was passionate about.

Ford would then catch himself and apologise for rambling but you would kiss him on the cheek and ask him to continue, to which Ford happily obliged, now aware that you were staring at him as though he had hung the stars in the sky.

Ford would find himself looking at you in a similar fashion when you were going on about what you and Mabel did in town, and Ford couldn’t help but hone in on your smile, shining eyes and hand gestures that told him that you enjoyed the hijinks that had happened while wearing the sweater that Mabel made you the entire time.

You’d catch him staring intently at you and suddenly you’re flustered and playing with the sleeves of your bright and vibrant sweater. ‘It’s kinda corny isn’t it?’ You’d ask as Ford chuckles, reaching out to hold your hand reassuringly in his.

‘No, not at all my sweet, I in fact find your adventures with my niece and nephew endearing and sweet. So please continue to tell me how you drop kicked a gnome into Mabel’s leaf blower.’ Ford said and within seconds you were back to being bright and talkative about your adventures of fighting off gnomes, barf fairies and pulling Mabel away from fae traps.

You both were each others listeners and would remember anything and everything said because you actually liked to hear where the other got up to when apart from one another.

Bonus; you definitely have a spot in his journal where he goes in depth of your relationship before ending it with: ‘they’re someone I don’t think I could envision a future without, for they make me young again while loving me regardless of our differences in age and much more. Thank you for loving me y/n, even when I don’t think it’s deserved.’

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 say my name and everything just stops

pairing: harry potter x reader

warnings: ron & reader in an established relationship , pervy harry, male masterbation, smut, harry wanking it to a photo😸, that’s all i think idk

a/n: well well well…i’m back after what 3/4 weeks?😭 so here’s smut that was written in like 20 minutes

He felt… so fucking perverted about his thoughts of you, the way his entire body froze when your breasts squeezed over his chest, the way his hands lingered on your waist when all he wanted to do was lower them further, cupping your ass while you squealed, hitting his chest with those pretty giggles escaping your lips. “Can you help me out?” You asked with those doe-eyes. Harry was sure he would do anything you asked if you gave him that look. Any fucking thing. He nodded breathlessly, no words able to push past his lips as he watched you in awe.

Ron’s absence left Harry feeling uneasy, likely held up in some line to get what he wanted. Harry couldn’t shake off the guilt he felt as he looked at you, his mind painting vivid scenarios of you under him, craving more until he lost control. He struggled to contain his desires, a constant battle against his own urges. However, everything seemed manageable until you casually brushed past him, reaching for whatever it was you needed next to him.

It was a completely unintentional gesture on your part, most likely insignificant to you. However, the way your curves seamlessly fit against him, your proximity causing a stir in him, was uncharted territory for Harry. Mentally, he couldn’t help but envision you both as if you were naked. This realization hit him hard because all he could think about now was being intimate with you from behind, enjoying the captivating sight of your figure melding into his, your soft moans urging him on, his hips moving rhythmically, and his cock filling that perfect spot he often dreamed about.

He craved the thought of losing himself in a passionate frenzy with you, where your thoughts were consumed by him and the intense desire between you. He longed for you to be utterly captivated, pleading for release, desperate for more. The bulge in Harry’s pants was undeniable evidence of his arousal, with his cock straining against the fabric, pre-cum dampening the area. The urgency was clear; if he didn’t address this soon, he feared he might lose control entirely.

“I really need to use the bathroom, can’t hold it much longer,” he feigned, and you glanced up at him. “Oh! It’s fine, I’ll stay here; Ron doesn’t have many people ahead of him anyway,” you reassured with a smile. “Are you sure?” Harry asked, subtly concealing his erection with his hand. “Absolutely, I’ll give you a heads-up when Ron and Hermione return,” you replied cheerfully, waving him off.

He stumbled into the bathroom, letting out a sigh of relief as he locked the door behind him. Harry. He was convinced you were unwittingly tormenting him. Moving swiftly, Harry removed his trousers almost in a rush. He scolded himself internally, knowing he shouldn’t indulge in these thoughts. Yet, the vivid memories of you persisted, the way the short skirt highlighted your curves, how your lips moved as you focused on Ron.

Every memory of you transformed into a tantalizing fantasy, his mind conjuring images of your lips enveloping him, your tongue teasing him, and those innocent eyes gazing up at him. Harry couldn’t resist any longer as he crawled into bed, attempting to muffle his sounds of pleasure while freeing himself from his boxers. His cock responded eagerly, throbbing harder as he teased himself, spreading pre-cum along the tip with a hiss of arousal.

His throat emitted a deep groan as he shut his eyes, his trembling hands gliding slowly up his throbbing length. Harry’s mind was consumed by thoughts of you, aching with desire. His cock felt almost feverish in his grasp, pulsing with insatiable need. He craved you desperately, imagining you quivering beneath him, yearning for every part of you, begging for him. He longed to be inside you, expressing his love as he filled you completely.

The intensity of his desire surged as he envisioned filling you completely, not stopping until you were overflowing with his cum, coating your inner walls. His grip on himself tightened feverishly, his knuckles turning white with the force. But Harry disregarded the discomfort, driven by the vivid images of you that fueled his arousal. This overwhelming passion was unprecedented for him, feeling like he was losing control, utterly captivated by you. You were like an addictive substance, impossible for him to resist, and it tormented him knowing he couldn’t satisfy his craving.

Despite his efforts, Harry struggled to contain his moans, his mind inundated with explicit images of you. He envisioned you with your mouth agape, tongue eagerly awaiting his release, craving the sensation of his warm essence cascading down your throat. “Fuck—fucking slut,” he uttered involuntarily, intensifying his grip on himself. “Such—such a pretty baby for me, yea?” he praised in his mind, picturing you in vivid detail.

Without hesitation, Harry reached for his wallet tucked inside his trousers, retrieving a picture of you as he felt himself nearing climax. He studied the image intently, a string of curses escaping his lips. In the photograph, you stood beside him, and there was Ron. A surge of anger coursed through his veins at the sight of Ron, knowing that these feelings were utterly wrong. Yet, every fiber of his being resented Ron for having you. His thumb instinctively covered Ron’s face in the picture, his grip tightening as he fixated on you.

You looked incredibly beautiful in the photo. Your hands were delicately wrapped around his waist, leaning towards him with a radiant smile that made you look so genuinely happy. The dress you wore was stunningly small, emphasizing your curves, and your breasts were snug against the top, driving Harry wild with desire. His grip on himself tightened as he pictured you naked, imagining you squirming beneath him. “Please, Harry,” your voice echoed in his mind.

“Please, Harry. Cum inside of me,” he envisioned you whispering, your voice filled with longing. “Please, baby.. need your cum.” The image of you batting your lashes at him, tears glistening in your innocent eyes, intensified his desire. Harry relished in the fantasy of you begging for his release, fueling his need to fill you completely. The mental image of his essence spilling inside you consumed his thoughts.

Harry reveled in the fantasy of you begging for his release, his desire to fill you completely with his essence. The thought of you pleading for him flooded his mind, igniting every inch of his being. “Please, Harry, wanna be filled with your load,” he imagined you whimpering, the desperation in your voice driving him wild. “I’m gonna make you mine, honey,” he promised, his arousal heightening as he envisioned claiming you completely. “Shit—gonna fuck my load into you, yeah, baby?” he groaned, his strokes growing more fervent as he gripped the picture tightly. “Make you my fuckin’ cum dump,” he cursed, consumed by the desire to have you completely. “I’m yours, Harry,” he envisioned you mewling for him, and that final thought pushed him over the edge.

He released his warm essence over the picture, his loud groans of pleasure echoing in the room. He couldn’t stifle his satisfaction as he admired the image, his cum adorning your pretty face in the photograph. Just as he thought he was caught, you called out for him, and Harry froze in panic. He quickly covered himself as you yelled about Ron and Hermione being done waiting in line. Relief washed over him, knowing you hadn’t heard his explicit thoughts. You were indeed a tempting distraction, pushing him to the brink every time.

[louisaskywalkerani]

Whispers in the Dark, forbidden embrace.

Pairing : Anakin Skywalker x f!Reader

synopsis : anakin reassures you about your forbidden relationship in more ways than one.

CW : 18+, smut! minors DNI. no movement but, p in v penetration, cock warming.

an : ok this is my first fanfic i've ever written, i'm completely petrified tbh, i tried to do my best, if u can give me some advice, it would be super nice. enjoy this ig.. the end is also inspired by @ohcaptains !!

The dim lighting in the temple corridor casts long shadows. Anakin's footsteps echo softly as he approaches you, a determined look in his eyes. You've been avoiding him, knowing the danger of your connection. Tonight, there's no escape.

"Anakin, we shouldn't be here," you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of unspoken emotions.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. "We can’t keep pretending, not anymore," he replies, his voice husky. "The Council doesn’t understand what we feel."

You look into his eyes, seeing the conflict mirrored in your own. "What if we're caught? The Council—"

"Screw the Council," he interrupts, his hands gently cupping your face. "I need you. We both know this is more than a fleeting desire."

Your breath hitches as his thumb brushes over your lips. "Anakin, we're risking everything."

"Some things are worth the risk," he murmurs, leaning in. His lips capture yours in a kiss that speaks of months of longing and suppressed passion. The kiss deepens, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours, his heartbeat pounding in sync with your own.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours. "Tell me you don’t feel the same, and I'll walk away."

You close your eyes, the truth undeniable. "I can’t," you admit softly. "I’ve tried, but I can’t."

With a relieved sigh, Anakin wraps his arms around you, holding you close. "Then let’s not fight it anymore."

—

The night is serene, stars twinkling above as if to guard your secret. Anakin spreads his cloak on the ground, inviting you to sit beside him. “Remember when we first met?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur.

You smile, the memory clear in your mind. “You were so arrogant,” you tease. “I thought you’d never take anything seriously.”

Anakin chuckles, his hand finding yours. “And you were so serious. Always following the rules.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, the bond deepening with shared memories. You both lie down on the cloak, looking up at the stars. "I used to think the stars held our destiny," you say, your voice barely audible.

"They still do," Anakin replies, his fingers intertwining with yours. "But we can choose our path."

The quiet of the night is broken only by the soft sounds of the temple gardens. Anakin turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we didn't have to hide?" he asks, his voice tinged with sadness.

"All the time," you admit. "But the life we've chosen doesn't allow for what-ifs."

Anakin's grip tightens around your hand. "We could leave. Start a new life, far from here. No rules, no codes, just us."

You look at him, the sincerity in his eyes making your heart ache. "And what of our duties? Our responsibilities?"

"We've given enough," he says fiercely. "Isn't it time we lived for ourselves?"

The temptation is strong, the vision of a life with Anakin almost too beautiful to resist. But the weight of your commitments anchors you. "I don’t know if I can."

Anakin sighs, pulling you closer. "I can't lose you," he whispers. "Not now, not ever."

"You won't," you promise, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We'll find a way to make this work."

The night stretches on, filled with whispered words and tender touches. As dawn approaches, you both lie entwined, the weight of your choices pressing down but the warmth of your connection offering solace. For now, in this moment, you are together, and that’s all that matters.

You lay there, enveloped in the warmth of each other’s embrace. The temple gardens, usually so serene and quiet, now seem to pulsate with the forbidden energy of your bond. The leaves rustle gently in the night breeze, almost as if they are whispering your secrets.

Anakin strokes your hair gently, his fingers tracing patterns that send shivers down your spine. “I’ve always admired your strength,” he says softly. “You’ve kept us hidden so well, even when it must have torn you apart.”

You sigh, nuzzling closer to him. “It hasn’t been easy,” you admit. “Every time I see you, I have to fight the urge to run into your arms. But I’ve never regretted it. Not for a moment.”

His grip tightens around you, as if he fears you might slip away. “I want to show you something,” he says suddenly, sitting up. “Come with me.”

Curious, you follow him through the winding paths of the garden until you reach a small, hidden alcove. The moonlight filters through the leaves, casting a mystical glow over everything. Anakin kneels and presses a hidden switch, revealing a small passageway.

“How did you find this?” you ask, amazed.

“I have my ways,” he replies with a wink. “Come on.”

The passage leads to a secluded chamber deep within the temple, one that even you, with all your knowledge of the place, had never discovered. It’s filled with ancient artifacts, relics of Jedi history, and texts that seem almost forgotten by time.

“I come here to think,” Anakin says, lighting a small lantern that casts a warm glow over the room. “It’s a place where I can be myself, away from the pressures of the Council and the weight of my duties.”

You walk around, marveling at the treasures surrounding you. “It’s incredible,” you whisper. “Like a sanctuary.”

Anakin smiles, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “I wanted to share it with you. A place that’s ours alone.”

You turn in his embrace, your eyes meeting his. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “It means more than you know.”

For a moment, you simply stand there, holding each other, surrounded by the silent witnesses of a bygone era. Then, with a gentle tug, Anakin leads you to a small nook filled with cushions. You sit down together, and he pulls you into his lap, his lips finding yours once more.

He breaks the kiss and smiles up at you, taking in every curve of your body, his hands brushing along your thighs as he drinks in the sight of you.

“You're so beautiful... even more so up close.” he whisper 

He reaches up, his hand cradling your cheek as he kisses you again. As the kiss deepens, he pulls you closer, his hand sliding lower along the curve of your waist. His touch is gentle at first, but as his passion grows, he holds you tighter against him.

Anakin's tongue explores your mouth as his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine as it ignites the fire burning within you.

You moan softly into his mouth as you feel his fingers brush across your skin, their touch leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Your hands explore his back, feeling every muscle as they clench and relax beneath your fingertips.

Anakin breaks away from you briefly, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone. His teeth graze against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake.

“Ani... what are we doing...?” You breathe, biting your lip as his lips find a sensitive spot on your neck.

Anakin chuckles, his breath warm against your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses along your jaw.

"I think you know, love.." He murmurs, his hand slipping under your chin to tilt your head back and expose your neck to him.

“I want you,” he whispers in your ear, his voice low and husky.

His words send shivers down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him. Your body aches for his touch, but you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed. 

Regardless, he can sense you tightening your grip on the back of his head. As you shift up against his thigh, the heat from your underwear burns against him.

He is aware that you are hesitant.

“It can be like i told you last time.” He stutters, licks his lips, and struggles to get the words out of his throat.

“Just- sit on it.” he managed to say. “If you don’t want to move it’s alright love, just wanna be inside you.” 

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and kiss it carefully to not leave any marks.

“Anakin..” You whisper softly as you struggle not to close your eyes to his touch.

He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.

“What? Are you afraid?” 

Your eyes roll slightly “No i’m not afraid.”

A slight smile appears at the corner of his lips. “Then what is it?”

You squint at his attitude. “Nothing. I- I just won’t move.”

He nods and slowly kisses your neck, his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. “Alright, love.”

You shift back so he can pull his trousers down to his knees, and you take his cock in your hand, feeling him melting at your simple touch.

“Love,” he whispers, his voice deep and rough. “I want to be inside you. Now.” 

You feel a surge of heat between your legs, and you can't help but moan in response. You've never felt so aroused, so completely lost in the moment.

You push your underwear to the side, and you lift yourself to sink onto him as Anakin breathes “Take it easy love, don't want you to hurt yourself.”

You halt. To avoid pushing him inside of you all at once and hurting yourself, you grip his shoulder to steady yourself.

You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You pause as a slow burn builds in your thighs, you clench down in an effort to relieve the pain.

“Fuck,” Anakin grunts as he wraps his arm around the back of your hips, “Lemme,” he mumbles, and he flexes gently his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked core and kiss your neck again to distract you from the potential pain.  

You're gasping for air, you moan softly in pleasure, the heat of his mouth on your skin igniting the fire within you. You've never felt anything like this before, and you never want it to end.

When you finally sink to the depths, the pair of you moan out loudly in unison.

Anakin buries his face in your neck, “Now, don’t move. Just don’t move.” He grunts once again.

You nod a little too vigorously, which creates a slight movement in your hips, and because of that you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you.

he manage laughs falsely and grips your hips more firmly “What did i say?”

“S- Sorry” You whisper as you feel his wet lips brush against your breasts which makes you throw your head back.

“If you move again,” Anakin begins to say, panting, “I'll leave the Jedi order and do what I should have done a long time ago.”

Anakin always wanted to fuck you properly and it drove him crazy not to be able to do it.

“D - Don’t try to tempt me, Anakin” You managed to say, saying in your head to yourself,  

Don’t even move.

But Anakin brings you out of your thoughts by licking gently your neck, making you clench around him, causing him to groan deep against your neck.

“I'm warning you, this is the last time.” He says, gritting his teeth and gripping your hips even more firmly, but not enough to hurt. 

“It’s all your fault this time” You whimper as you tighten your grip on his shoulders. 

“Just stay still,” He said firmly, concentrating on not moving and coming inside you.

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt1) | Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x tennis player!reader For the past year, Leah had been a big fan of yours, and now her mother wasn't missing any opportunity to tease her during Roland Garros. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: this one is long (maybe?), sorry about that. The next part has more Leah and reader interactions, I promise. This was written with an oc, i changed everything at the last minute so sorry if there are any mistakes there,, pt2 my masterlist

Leah Williamson, England captain, European champion, Miss Arsenal.

That was how she was publicly recognised within the world of football, a sport that had always been her passion, but lately, or rather, since she had been invited to Wimbledon in 2023, she had begun to share some of that passion with tennis. 

She explained to everyone that she fell in love with tennis during a deep conversation with the legendary Billie Jean King. While there was truth to that, tennis didn't captivate her so much because of the sport itself, but rather because of a certain player, who since that Wimbledon semifinal, Leah had watched almost all of her matches. 

“Believe me, that girl Y/N is great, don't let this match fool you” Billie had muttered to her after witnessing your unfortunate loss in the last set.

And who was Leah to doubt the words of the greatest tennis player in history?

Since then, Leah has managed to watch as many of your matches as possible. And yes, you were undeniably beautiful, but what truly captivated Leah was the elegance with which you played. Each swing of your racket held a mesmerizing grace that left Leah spellbound every time.

And now, with a break after the final game of the European qualifiers, it was the opportunity for a holiday.

"Hey, Leah!" Georgia barged into her room on the last day of camp, now that they were back in England. "Got any plans for this week?"

"Yeah," Leah replied, without giving any details, more focused on packing her suitcase than engaging in conversation with her friend.

"Where? With who?" Georgia asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively. She knew Leah tended to keep her romantic interactions with girls in private, not just from the public but even from her own friends.

"With my mom, you idiot," Leah replied, rolling her eyes. "We're headed to France."

"Now? What's so interesting about France?" she asked, with a look of disgust on her face. Sure, there were plenty of interesting things to do in France, but Georgia didn't want to hear anything related to that country for a couple of days.

"Roland Garros? Does that ring a bell for you?" Leah retorted, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"Huh? Since when do you go to another country for a tennis match?"

"My mom likes it" Leah lied smoothly, without any hint of shame. If only Georgia knew that Leah had sweetened the deal for her mother with promises of fine wines and breathtaking views post-match.

"Well, that's too bad... but text me if your plans change,"

Leah nodded, though it was in vain because she wouldn't change going to France to see her favorite tennis player.

"Who are we rooting for?" Amanda said, taking a sip of her drink, not really interested in what was happening on the clay.

"Uh, we're impartial," Leah said, settling back in her seat.

Four games had already been played, each player winning their respective games. 

"I have a feeling we're rooting for the girl in the white visor," her mother said. 

Leah looked at her, pulling her sunglasses down a little. "What?"

"Well, you make a face every time the other player makes a point."

Leah said nothing to that comment, her attention had returned to you, now one point away from managing to break your opponent's serve. It was an important match, a semifinal, so every point would be valuable to put you in the final of the tournament.

Still not saying anything back to her mother, Leah held her breath for a few seconds. The ball was going back and forth across the court, but you, with impressive precision, hit the ball with a spin that made it graze the top of the net. For a moment, it seemed like it might fall short, but the ball dropped just over, catching your opponent off guard.

"Wonderful" muttered Leah, crossing her arms with a smile, ready to enjoy the rest of the match. 

There were times when tennis was mentally overwhelming. You felt this every time you played, and it had cost you a lot of matches in the past. A whole court filled with hundreds of people, all watching you, many anxiously waiting for you to make a mistake that could cost you the match. It was more than overwhelming.

That's why, at times, you had to pause your mind and take a deep breath, despite how difficult that was for you.

You only needed one more game to win the set and secure a place in the Roland Garros final. No pressure, of course.

The advantage was that you were serving in this game, but ironically, this often made you even more nervous. The pressure of delivering a strong serve was immense. 

The crowd was overwhelming, so many eyes watching you, so many unfamiliar faces focused on you, watching every move, your family and team sitting behind you. In this position you couldn’t look at them to calm down. 

You needed to focus your eyes on something, to steady your nerves. As you walked towards your position, after drying your face with the towel, you looked in a diagonal direction, right towards the area where you were supposed to put the ball. 

As you raised your gaze slightly, something caught your eye. In the stands, amid a sea of blonde and brown heads, was a woman with striking red hair. The woman stood out, not only because of her hair, but also because she was the only person not looking at you, instead, her attention was elsewhere.

You stole a glance at the red-haired woman as you inhaled deeply, preparing for your serve. With a fluid motion, you raised her arm, tossed the ball into the air and delivered a powerful strike.

Ace!

The ball zipped across the court with velocity, catching your opponent off guard. Convinced it would fly out, your opponent made no attempt to chase after it.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips.

Once more, your gaze flickered toward the red-haired woman in the stands. Drawing another deep breath, you focused intensely as you prepared to serve again. With a determined flick of your wrist, you sent the ball hurtling across the court, this time, your aim wasn’t for an ace, but rather to set up a play that would complicate the things for your opponent.

Within minutes the score stood at 40-15. Just one more point. 

You didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but you craved to close the match with a decisive point, one point to make it clear why you were here.  

So, you adjusted your visor, brushed your fingers over the gold chain hanging from your neck and looked up, for the first time looking directly at the woman, not even getting a good look at her, because the woman was quite far away, but the woman's disinterest helped you to clear your head and focus your mind, ignoring the bunch of other faces watching you. 

Just one more point.

You lifted the ball, the familiar weight of your racket in your hand, a quiet groan escaping your lips before you swung. Then, the sound of the impact echoed through the entire court and as the ball bounced on the clay.

Ace!

Leah was up from her seat at the same time as you fell backwards onto the clay. 

"That was incredible," Leah exclaimed, joining the chorus of applause. 

"Incredible?" Amanda asked without understanding that much. However, what truly caught her off guard was the sight of her daughter like that, grinning from ear to ear. It was common to see her like that when it came to football matches, but not usually during tennis.

"Are you kidding? It was phenomenal! If you hadn't been glued to your phone, you’d have felt the same as the rest of us!" Leah retorted.

"So, did we win?" Amanda inquired.

"Well, you have won a few more days in France," Leah replied, attempting to temper her excitement. "The final is in two days."

"Do we have tickets?”

"Of course, I purchased them in advance. I already knew Y/N would make it to the finals."

Amanda regarded her daughter suspiciously. "You're not into gambling, are you?"

"Of course not," Leah replied with a grin. "But if I were to bet on her I'd do pretty well”

As they made their way toward the exit, following the crowd, Amanda broke the silence. "Do you know that player?"

"No… not personally" Leah replied "But I watched her play at Wimbledon last year."

"Did she win?"

"No" Leah shook her head, a hint of disappointment in her expression. "She lost"

"So, she's not that good?" 

"Actually, she's quite impressive," Leah defended you. "She went up against the number two player in the world."

"What rank is she?" Amanda inquired.

"Four," Leah answered.

"Then she's not the best," Amanda said confidently.

"Mom!" Leah nudged her playfully while Amanda held back her laughter. "You couldn't even hit the ball."

"Neither could you, I remember your attempts at tennis when you were little," Amanda chuckled. "But what I don't get is why you're defending her so much"

"Because she's great, she’s talented! Look over there!" Leah pointed behind her, where a large screen displayed the game's results alongside your photo.

Amanda's eyes immediately gravitated toward the image, ignoring the points table. "And she's quite pretty," she remarked, studying your face for the first time.

"And she's talented," Leah emphasized, feeling a blush creeping up her ears. Thankfully, her hair concealed it from her mother's curious gaze.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Amanda replied with a smile.

It was a tough match, quite a tough match, but that's what you would expect in a Roland Garros final. 

The first set ended 6-4 in favor of Iga Swiatek.

You had faced her numerous times throughout your professional career, but had never managed to defeat her in an official match. Despite your old friendship with Iga, there was an undeniable intensity when you two met on the court, and you were determined to shine this time.

As the first set concluded, you sank into your chair, you had to use the break to ease the tension in your legs. Uncapping your water bottle, your fingers instinctively found the gold chain around your neck, adorned with your initials. It may have seemed superstitious, but wearing it had always brought you luck on the court.

Suddenly, your coach's voice pierced the distance, signaling for you to relax and loosen up your play. You brushed off the advice, as if you hadn't already realized that. Ignoring your coach's guidance was risky, but you already had your own voice in your mind against you. 

Taking a long sip of water, you refocused your gaze forward. Then, something caught your attention.

The same woman from the previous match was in the stands again. You hadn't noticed her before, too engrossed in your opponent. Again, that was the key to your game, you needed to block out distractions and focus on yourself and the ball. Just like you had done during the semifinal match, you needed to tune out everything else.

"How many points before your girl loses?" Amanda said, glancing sideways at Leah, who was leaning forward, her elbows on her knees and a faint blush on her cheeks. According to Leah it was from the sun hitting her face, but Amanda knew her daughter well enough.

"Don't pester me, now's not the time," Leah replied, sitting up straight in her seat and adjusting her sunglasses.

"I'm not pestering you, but you claimed that girl was fantastic. Yet, from what I've seen today, the other player seems better to me."

"Well, she's number one after all"

"So, you admit she's the best."

Leah rolled her eyes. "Y/N just needs to take a breath. After this break she'll bounce back, you'll see. She'll shut your mouth"

"If you say so."

And so it happened. You had won the second set 4-6, breaking Iga's serve at the crucial moment. The victory was almost surreal, even Leah found it hard to believe.

"Stop biting your nails," her mother said, giving Leah's leg a slap as she saw her nervous habit.

"She's going to win," Leah said without looking at her mother, her gaze fixed on you, as you refreshed yourself by wetting your hair before the final set.

"Leah, you've been saying that since yesterday," Amanda remarked, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her tone.

"I’m excited," Leah defended.

Amanda shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "If she wins, will you approach her?"

"Are you being serious?" she said, shaking her head "What would I even say?" Leah replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"You've been crushing over her for days. I've never seen you like this with someone you don't even know," Amanda teased.

"It's not a crush. I just admire her athletic ability and determination, that's all," Leah insisted.

"Well, then you two have something in common. I don’t see why you don’t talk to her" 

"Because... I just don't," Leah stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"What a coward," Amanda teased.

The set stood at 4-5 in your favor, but now it was Iga's turn to serve, and she was already in position. You shifted your weight from side to side, preparing for the shot, a smile gracing your lips as you caught sight of the red-haired woman just above Iga’s head. The woman had become your anchor, helping you refocus on your game. 

It was almost amusing, thinking that no one else existed in the crowd, just you and the woman. You could tell the woman wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in the clay. You often caught the woman glancing at her phone during the set. Yet, you found solace in playing as if you were solely performing for the woman.

However, you didn’t forget the game at hand, swiftly responding to each shot with your racket, rallying back and forth several times before you had a moment of brilliance that allowed you to execute a breathtaking drop shot in the opposite direction of Iga's sprint.

It was the highlight of the tournament, perhaps even of your career, your best point. Yet, when you glanced up and noticed the red-haired woman looking away, you couldn't help but chuckle.

With the score now at 40-AD, you needed just one more point to clinch your first grand slam title. As Iga's shot came straight towards your body, you managed to get your racket in position to return the ball. The exchange of the ball was intense, this time you had to sprint to reach a ball you never thought you could. You struck it with the edge of your racket, hoping for the best as the ball sailed toward the line.

As you watched the ball clear the net, you felt the light weight of your gold chain around your neck and remembered that luck was on your side this time.

Everything happened in slow motion as Iga dropped her racket to the ground, and moments later, you found yourself on your knees on the clay court, the crowd erupting into cheers around you.

You didn't know how, but now you were already in the stands, being hugged by your family and your team, with your coach by your side, trying to shake some of the clay off your clothes. 

"I need you to do me a favor" you said to him before the tournament staff took you away for the trophy presentation.

As Leah and her mother descended the stairs toward the exit, Leah couldn't contain her excitement. "I told you Y/N would win," she exclaimed, her hand firmly grasping her mother's arm. The trophy presentation had concluded, and the crowd was beginning to disperse. 

"It was luck," Amanda teased her daughter, though she couldn't deny her surprise at your remarkable turnaround.

"We should have placed a bet. We would have won"

"At least I won't have to endure your grumpy face during dinner," Amanda said with a playful smirk.

Leah rolled her eyes as they walked through the crowd.

"Excuse me!" A man's voice behind them interrupted their conversation. Leah's eyes widened as she recognized him. "This might sound strange… but Y/N wants to see you," the man explained to Amanda, who didn't understand the situation at all, her daughter didn’t either.

Leah felt a tug on the arm her mother was holding on.

"Uh-"

"It's Y/N's coach," Leah clarified to her mother.

"And she wants to see me?" Amanda asked.

The man nodded awkwardly. "I wish I could offer more explanation, but Y/N is sometimes unpredictable."

After a moment of contemplation, Amanda flashed a mischievous smile and nodded, gripping her daughter's arm even tighter. "Sure, take us to her."

Leah's heart raced. How was it possible that she was going to meet her crush the athlete she admired thanks to her mother? 

Your coach, after a few minutes of walking in silence, led them through a door into a room where you were lying on a couch, eyes closed.

"Hey, Y/N. Your guests are here," your coach announced, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You quickly opened your eyes and stood up, ignoring the fact that you had just played a two-hour match less than half an hour ago. 

You were no longer wearing your visor and your shoes, but you were still in your white uniform with lilac accents. Leah couldn't help but notice that your socks were now stained with clay.

"Y/N L/N" you introduced yourself, extending your hand toward Amanda. Your attention seemed focused on Amanda, oblivious to Leah standing behind her. "I'm introducing myself because I have a slight feeling you don't know me," you said with a smile.

"Amanda," she said, shaking your hand. "Don't worry, I know who you are. A little voice hasn't stopped repeating your name since we arrived in France."

Leah blushed and glanced away.

"Oh," you released Amanda's hand and turned to the blonde, whom you hadn't noticed during either match. "Shouldn't I introduce myself then?" you asked, extending your hand toward Leah.

"No need," Leah said, feeling her mother's not-so-subtle nudge as you extended your hand. "My name is Leah, and I'm a big fan of yours."

"Your number one fan," Amanda chimed in with a smile.

"Mom!" Leah protested, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

You released Leah's hand and turned to Amanda.

"She brought me all the way from England just to see you," Amanda explained, noticing the way you were looking at her daughter. 

"England?" you asked, curious about the mention of England.

"Yes, we're from England," Leah confirmed.

"And my daughter is the captain of—"

"Mom, no!" Leah interjected, her cheeks turning pink as she attempted to silence her mother's impending revelation.

You couldn't help but laugh at Leah's embarrassment, finding the exchange amusing.

"Why are we here?" Leah asked before her mother could continue.

"Oh, right," you replied, regaining your composure. "I wanted to thank you," you said, turning to Amanda and clasping your hands behind your back.

"Me?" "Her?" Amanda and Leah exclaimed simultaneously, surprised by your words.

"Yes," You said softly, your gaze shifting to Leah, a smile returning to your face. "Since the semifinal match, I noticed your mother in the stands. Although, it's hard not to see her," you added, gesturing towards Amanda's red hair. "She was the only person in the whole court who wasn't looking at me. Thanks to her, I was able to concentrate and win. It may sound silly but—"

"Oh, don't worry honey," Amanda interjected. "They usually tell me that I bring good luck in big games," she said, nodding towards Leah with her thumb.

"You're an athlete? Sorry, what was your name again? I don't have a good memory with names," you said, this time blushing slightly.

"Honey, Leah is the captain of the England team," Amanda clarified, speaking on behalf of her daughter.

"Oh... Football? Volleyball?" You inquired.

"Yes, football," Leah replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life, not even as a child.

You glanced Leah up and down once more. You had never imagined a football player could dress so stylishly. You found yourself so engrossed in observing Leah's attire that you only snapped back to reality when your coach cleared his throat.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure to thank you for your help, even if you didn't realize it," you said, pulling an autographed tennis ball out of your pocket. "I'm not sure how valuable this is to you, but perhaps your daughter will appreciate it," you added with a laugh, glancing sideways at Leah. "Well, I must be off now, interviews and all that," you explained, walking away to grab your bag. "Hope to see you two at Wimbledon," you said, winking at Amanda before leaving.

The next day, Leah found herself at the airport, keeping an eye on their suitcases while her mother went to grab something to eat. Suddenly, a notification on her phone caught her off guard.

Y/N_kz started following you

[lilsmv1]

orange cat - OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?

Word count: 1k

London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.

For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.

At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."

Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.

But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.

Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."

I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.

"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.

"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.

From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.

As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.

Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.

One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.

Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.

One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

"I'm not" I replied defensively.

"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.

"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.

"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed

"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.

"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."

"Oh..."

"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.

And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.

[mrsfancyferrari]

You Know Me Best

Summary: Charles has a bad day and you as his best friend always knows what he wants, but do you really?

Song: Friends by Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: This is similar to Just One Kiss but the ending is the different and spicy version. This is my first time writing an erotic scene so please just give constructive criticism. I just want to keep celebrating Charles' win T_T

Word count: 3.6k

Charles Leclerc experienced a challenging day on the track, and as his best friend, you noticed his need for comfort and reassurance. Charles has always been known for being incredibly intuitive, and you knew that he wanted to unwind and seek solace in his favorite activities.

Whenever Charles feels overwhelmed or stressed, he tends to crave comfort food. You know that he can always count on you to bring him his favorite treats, whether it's a bowl of warm homemade soup or a delicious sandwich.

You knew that providing him with one of his favorite foods would provide him with a sense of comfort and stability.

Throughout the day, you noticed a newfound attentiveness among the team members and fans alike. They knew that Charles was having a bad day, and they couldn't help but notice the changes in his behavior.

Whether it was his distracted demeanor or the way he constantly sought out your comfort, everyone realized that something was amiss.

However, what no one realized was that you were the one who understood Charles better than anyone else.

You knew exactly what he needed, and you were determined to bring him the comfort and reassurance he craved.

Throughout the years, you made sure that Charles had his favorite meals, whether it was sneaking him a few bites of dessert during team meetings or surprising him with a late-night snack.

You knew that these small gestures would make a difference, helping him regain his footing and regain his confidence.

"Are you sure you're not married or something?" Daniel joked to you as he watched you give Charles some snacks.

"No, just really good friends," you replied with a laugh. "But sometimes it feels like we're practically married with how well I know him."

Daniel chuckled and said, "Well, if you ever decide to tie the knot, I hope you'll remember to invite me to the wedding. I wouldn't want to miss out on witnessing such a perfect match!"

"Of course, Daniel! You'll be at the top of the guest list," you replied, grateful for the lighthearted moment amidst the tension.

What you didn't know was that Charles was listening to your conversation. As he overheard Daniel's comment about you two being a perfect match, a small smile formed on his face, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to your friendship than he had realized.

Your friendship with Charles runs deep, rooted in years of shared experiences and unwavering support. From late-night conversations to celebrating each other's successes, you have been there for each other through thick and thin.

Charles knows that your understanding of him goes beyond mere comfort food, and he cherishes the bond you share.

But as the smile lingered on his face, Charles couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more than just friendship between the two of you.

The thought had crossed his mind before, but now, listening to your conversation with Daniel, it seemed like the universe was teasing him with the possibility of a deeper connection. . . .

The thought of a deeper connection with Charles had always lingered in your heart, but fear had held you back from taking any action. You were in love with him, and had been for as long as you could remember, but the risk of losing the friendship you cherished so much had always been too great.

As you watched Charles zoom around the Monaco track in his racing car, gripping onto your seat in the paddock, a surge of emotions washed over you. The adrenaline, the excitement, and the undeniable sense of pride in seeing him pursue his passion ignited a fire within you.

The roar of the engine filled the air as Charles sped past, his car a blur of color. A mix of excitement and anxiety washed over you, causing your heart to race in sync with the car.

As you held your breath, you couldn't help but notice the fierce competition from Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, who were hot on Charles' heels, ready to seize any opportunity to overtake him.

The race was far from over, and the tension only grew as the laps ticked by, making you wonder if Charles would be able to maintain his lead until the end.

The race intensified with each passing lap, as Charles skillfully navigated the twists and turns of the Monaco track. He expertly maneuvered his car, pushing it to its limits, while Max Verstappen and Lando Norris continued to apply relentless pressure. The crowd erupted with excitement, their cheers echoing through the air, as the three drivers engaged in a thrilling battle for the top spot.

Every move, every split-second decision, held the potential to determine the outcome of the race. The tension was palpable as the cars zoomed past, their engines roaring and tires screeching, creating a symphony of speed.

With each passing lap, the stakes grew higher, fueling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. As the race entered its final stages, every corner became a make-or-break moment, and you held your breath, praying for Charles to maintain his lead until the checkered flag.

As soon as he crossed the finish line, everyone jumped up from their seats, including you. The air was filled with a mix of cheers, applause, and jubilation as Charles secured the victory he had fought so hard for.

Emotions overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride and joy for him.

You rushed to the podium, eager to congratulate Charles on his well-deserved win. Your heart swelled with pride as you embraced him, knowing that your unwavering support had played a small part in his momentous victory.

Charles stepped out of his racing car, his face beaming with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. The crowd erupted into a thunderous applause, recognizing his incredible skill and determination in securing the hard-fought victory.

When he finally found you, Charles quickly hugged you tightly, his grip filled with gratitude and genuine appreciation.

The bond between you and Charles had grown stronger through countless races, and this victory was a testament to the unwavering support and belief you had in each other.

As his head was tucked into your neck, you gently stroked his hair in response, feeling the weight of his exhaustion and the elation of his triumph. In that moment, you knew that all the sacrifices, the late nights, and the unwavering support were worth it, as you celebrated this unforgettable victory together.

"You did it," you whispered, your voice filled with pride and admiration. "All your hard work and determination paid off. I couldn't be happier for you."

Charles smiled against your neck and whispered back, "Thank you for always believing in me. I couldn't have done it without you."

Charles then let go of you and looked into your eyes before saying, "Can you meet me in my driver's room after? I have something important to discuss with you."

"Sure," you nodded as he was taken away by a staff member. As you watched Charles disappear into the crowd, your mind raced with anticipation, wondering what he could possibly have to discuss with you.

As you watched Charles make his way to the podium, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for his remarkable achievement. The sight of him standing tall, his face glowing with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph, filled you with immense pride.

It was a moment that would forever be etched in your memory, a testament to the years of hard work and determination that had brought him to this point.

"He likes you, you know,"

Startled by Arthur Leclerc's sudden appearance, you turned to face him with a surprised expression. "What do you mean?" you asked, curious about his comment.

Arthur smirked mischievously and replied, "Oh, come on. It's obvious. Charles talks about you all the time. I think he's finally ready to take your relationship to the next level."

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Oh, Arthur, you've got it all wrong. Charles and I are just friends."

Arthur's eyebrows raised at your comment. "Maman says otherwise, she's always talking about you," he said with a smirk.

You felt a mix of surprise and curiosity, wondering what Charles' mother could possibly be saying about you.

"Just know that the family will welcome you in with open arms if you two get together," Arthur added, his mischievous smirk widening. As he walked away, leaving you with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you and Charles than just friendship.

As Charles stood on the podium, he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude and honor as the Prince of Monaco handed him the golden trophy. The gleaming trophy symbolized not only his extraordinary victory, but also the recognition and respect he had earned from the racing community and the world at large.

In that moment, as the national anthem played and Charles made a point to lock eyes with you, it felt like a silent affirmation of his feelings. The intensity of his gaze left you with no doubt that there was something more than friendship between you two, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation for what the future might hold.

In that moment, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through your chest, matching the pride evident in his eyes. As the applause filled the air, you realized that your own feelings for Charles had grown deeper than you had allowed yourself to admit.

The future suddenly seemed full of possibilities, and you couldn't wait to explore them together. . . .

As the celebrations continued, you found yourself caught up in the whirlwind of joy and excitement surrounding Charles and Ferrari's victory. The atmosphere was electric, filled with cheers, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses.

In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for Charles and a deep sense of pride for being a part of his journey.

A staff member approached you with a message, informing you that Charles was looking for you amidst the celebrations.

As your heart raced with anticipation, you couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to say and how this momentous victory would further solidify the bond between you.

"Charles wants to see you," they said, their voice filled with urgency. Intrigued and slightly nervous, you followed the staff member through the crowd and made your way to Charles' private suite.

As you knocked on the door, your heart raced with anticipation, wondering what Charles wanted to discuss with you in this intimate setting.

As you wait for Charles to open the door, a mix of excitement and nervousness floods your senses. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your mind races with possibilities of what he might say.

In this moment, every second feels like an eternity, and you can't help but wonder how this conversation will shape the future of your relationship.

You heard the sound of footsteps growing louder and closer to the door, causing your anticipation to heighten. Each step seemed to echo in your ears, building up the tension and making you even more eager to see Charles and hear what he had to say.

As you heard the footsteps come closer to the door, your anticipation grew. The sound of Charles' voice calling your name sent a thrill through your entire body, and you couldn't wait to see the expression on his face as he opened the door.

"Yes, it's me Charles," you responded, a smile spreading across your face.

The door swung open, revealing Charles with a mixture of excitement and nervousness mirrored in his eyes.

When you met Charles' gaze, there was something in his eyes that took your breath away: a blend of lust and desire that took you by surprise.

His eyes scanned your whole body slowly, taking in every detail with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, his gaze filled with a newfound appreciation and longing.

As his eyes scanned your whole body slowly, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was as if he was undressing you with his gaze, his desire palpable in the air. You couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, wondering what he had in mind for the two of you.

It was as if he was taking in every detail, every curve, every nuance, and savoring the moment.

"Charles?"

For a brief moment, Charles blinked and locked eyes with you, seemingly forgetting the intimate setting you were in. The intensity of his gaze broke the tension, and you could sense a deep connection forming between you.

It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

"Come in," he said, widening the door for you, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. As you stepped inside, the outside world seemed to disappear, leaving only the possibility of what this conversation could bring.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about, Charles?" you asked, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.

Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice steady yet filled with a hint of vulnerability. "I wanted to talk about us," he whispered, his words hanging in the air

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you, something I've been holding back for far too long.

You nodded, encouraging him to say it, your heart pounding with anticipation. The words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of his confession building.

Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity. "I wanted to talk about us," he began, his words hanging in the air. "I've realized that I can't ignore my feelings for you any longer. I've fallen in love with you."

Your eyes widened at his statement, unable to believe what you were hearing. The room fell silent as you processed his words, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

"Oh no, I knew it wasn't going to work," Charles muttered into his hands, taking your silence as an assumption that you rejected him. But little did he know, your silence was not a sign of rejection, but rather a moment of shock and disbelief.

You were quick to realize that Charles misunderstood your silence, so you walked over to him and gently took his hands off his face, meeting his eyes with a reassuring gaze.

As his scared eyes met your excited eyes, a moment of vulnerability passed between you. You could see the fear of rejection lingering in his gaze, while your eyes reflected a mixture of surprise and joy. In that instant, you knew that this confession meant as much to him as it did to you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and affection for him.

"I love you too, Charles," you whispered as you cupped his cheeks gently. The weight of his confession lifted off both of you, replaced by an overwhelming sense of happiness and relief.

In that moment, Charles couldn't contain his joy and excitement. He quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his hands around your waist, as if afraid that you might slip away.

The warmth of his embrace reassured you that his love was genuine, and you couldn't help but melt into his arms, feeling a sense of safety and belonging that you had longed for.

"Can I?" he muttered, pulling back from the hug enough to stare at your lips. The intense desire in his eyes matched the longing in his voice, as if he was seeking permission to seal his confession with a passionate kiss.

Without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips. The moment your mouths met, a surge of electricity coursed through your bodies, igniting a fire that had been simmering between you. The kiss was passionate and filled with all the pent-up emotions that had been building since the moment you met.

As your lips met, a wave of butterflies fluttered in your stomach, a tingling sensation spread through your chest, and your knees felt weak with anticipation.

The intensity of the kiss confirmed that the connection between you and Charles was not only emotional, but also physical, leaving you both breathless and craving for more. . . .

Their bodies moved as one, their hands exploring every inch of each other's skin. Their breaths intertwined in a symphony of desire as they surrendered to the heat of their passion.

Soft moans escaped their lips, mingling with whispered words of love and longing. In the midst of their ecstasy, their eyes locked, conveying a depth of connection that words could never capture.

"I've waited so long for this," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and adoration.

"Me too," you responded, your voice laced with pure bliss.

In that intimate moment, every touch felt like the caress of silk against skin. Your fingertips danced across each other's bare flesh, creating a symphony of pleasure that sent shivers down your spine.

Charles carried you onto the sofa, laying you down as he kneeled over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own.

You gasp as Charles's lips make contact with your neck, his touch sending electric currents through your body.

The sensation of his warm breath against your skin intensifies the desire pooling within you, as you arch your neck, granting him further access to explore the depths of your pleasure.

Charles' hands moved with purpose, skillfully undoing the buttons of your blouse one by one. As each article of clothing fell away, he whispered seductive words of praise and desire in your ear, igniting a deeper sense of arousal within you.

You surrendered to his words, intoxicated by the way he took control and unleashed a wave of passion that consumed you both.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to explore every inch of you, to taste every part of your pleasure."

His words sent shivers down your spine, fueling your desire and leaving you yearning for more of his commanding touch.

You respond with a low, sultry moan, your body arching further into his touch, silently begging for more. The sound of your moans only adds to Charles's desire, fueling his determination to fulfill your every craving and ignite a passion that would consume you both. "I want you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want you so badly."

The intensity of your desire could be seen in your eyes when you looked up at him.

"I want you too, Charles," you said, biting your lower lip.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I can't believe you're mine."

You smiled up at him, your eyes filled with love.

"I'm all yours, Charles," you said, reaching up to pull him down on top of you.

Charles didn't waste any time. He kissed you deeply, your tongues dancing together in a passionate embrace. He ran his hands over your body, feeling every curve and contour.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing," he said, his breath hot against your ear.

You moaned, your body writhing beneath him.

"Charles, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me."

Charles didn't need any more encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his dick throbbing with need.

"Are you ready for me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded, your eyes wide with desire.

"Yes, Charles, I'm ready," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Charles pushed inside you, feeling your tight warmth surround him. He groaned with pleasure, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he said, his voice filled with wonder.

You moaned, your fingers digging into his back, as Charles continued to move inside you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Charles, don't stop," you begged, your hips meeting his with every thrust.

Charles couldn't stop if he wanted to. He was lost in the pleasure of being inside you, of feeling your body respond to his touch.

"Come for me, Y/N," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I want to feel you come apart in my arms." "I'm so close, Charles," you gasped, your voice filled with desperation. "Please, don't stop."

Charles's movements became faster and more intense, his breathing ragged. "I won't stop, Y/N," he growled, his voice filled with determination. "I want you to come for me, to lose yourself in pleasure."

The room filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of your bodies coming together. As the intensity built, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, ready to fall into ecstasy.

And then, with one final thrust, you shattered, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of orgasm washed over you.

Charles kissed your forehead gently. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let you go. You're my everything."

And in that moment, as you melted into each other's arms, you knew that this was a love that would withstand any obstacle. . . .

[multific]

Veils of Rivalry

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: You hated him, but you also didn't. It was complicated, but it also wasn't.

Once upon a time, in a Hogwarts, there were two individuals who were known far and wide as the fiercest enemies. 

Their names were Y/N Y/L/N and Mattheo Riddle, and their rivalry was the stuff of legends. 

They clashed at every turn, their sharp tongues and quick wits always ready to spar.

And it all started during your first year. 

Mattheo was as confident as ever getting into Slytherin. And you? Just a very lost Ravenclaw who was looking for their next class.

He ran into you, and didn't even apologise or help you collect your books.

"Rude." you said as he continued his walk.

It was only the first time but then words were exchanged and soon, the entire school knew, you and Riddle mustn't be left in the same room.

Despite your mutual hatred, there was an undeniable tension between you that neither of you could ignore. 

You denied your feelings, determined to maintain the facade of hatred that had defined your relationship for so long. 

But as fate would have it, circumstances plotted to bring you together in a way neither could have predicted.

One fateful night, a masquerade ball was held in the school, and both of you found themselves in the big hall. It was during your sixth year.

You didn't even notice that you were dancing around him.

In a moment of pure bliss and fun, you found yourself drawn to Mattheo, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. 

He looked at you, surprise and something else flickering in his eyes before he pulled you into his arms and led you onto the middle of the dance floor. 

You moved together in perfect unity, your bodies pressed close as the music played loud in your ears. You smelled tobacco on him, he smelled your sweet perfume.

As the night went on, it was as if all those arguments never even happened, as if you both forgot who the other was. 

And then, in a moment of pure impulse, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

A spark igniting that neither could deny. You weren't sure why you kissed him.

When you pulled back, your eyes went wide with shock and something else, something that felt dangerously like lust.

For a moment, you stood there, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. 

But then, this time, he leaned in and kissed you again, your passion igniting like wildfire as you finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

"Riddle," you said with a desperate tone, you hated to sound like that.

"Come with me." he said with such a soft tone of voice. 

You followed him to a silent corridor as you leaned against the wall, he trapped you in with his arms next to your head.

"I don't know what you are playing at, but I'm serious."

"I'm not playing." your reply was immediate, his eyes never left your eyes, you reached out and pulled him closer by his shirt. "Kiss me please."

And he didn't need to be told twice. 

His lips melted with yours, his arms moving to hold you closer. 

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 

@dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/