#the next day was always a little better already. just like it will be this time. it's gonna be ok

[kirammanswifey]

hello!!! I really enjoy reading your writing, always reading them like it's a bedtime story lol. I was wondering how arcane characters would react with you wearing their clothes. like after a long day they come home and see you in their clothes or like you fall in a puddle and they give you their clothes to wear, anything you want

thank you for your words, sweetheart, you just made my day, hope you like this ;)

how arcane characters would react to you wearing their clothes (fem reader, romance/fluff)

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i love you, person who asked for this. this kind of dynamics are fun because you can write it from many perspectives and use several genres, and i love a fluff with a little bit of spicy. as you already know request are open ;)

Viktor

The sound of the door closing behind you seems louder in the silence of the room. The rain hasn't stopped outside, and each drop seems to remind you how soaked you are. Your wet clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin, and you decide you can't stay like this. You look around, and your eyes land on one of Viktor's shirts, casually draped over the back of a chair. You know he won’t mind, so you grab it and head to the bathroom to change.

The soft fabric of Viktor's shirt, slightly oversized for you, falls over your shoulders, enveloping you in its characteristic scent—a mix of old paper, ink, and something you've always associated with him. You feel a little warmer, wrapped in something so intimately his.

Soon after, you hear the familiar click of Viktor’s cane in the hallway. He’s back home after a long day at the lab. You know he must be exhausted too, but you still feel a little nervous about how he’ll react to seeing you in his clothes.

The door opens slowly, and Viktor steps inside. His slender figure pauses for a moment when he sees you, his amber eyes studying you with a mix of surprise and something else you can't fully identify. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can see his normally neutral expression gradually soften.

“Did you have a rough day?” he finally asks, his voice soft and concerned as he closes the door behind him.

You nod, fiddling with the long sleeves of the shirt that come down almost to the middle of your hands. “Yeah, I got caught in the rain on my way back,” you explain. “I changed so I wouldn’t soak everything, hope you don’t mind me wearing your shirt.”

He takes a few steps toward you, leaning slightly on his cane. His eyes linger on you, but this time there’s a warmth in them that he rarely shows. “I don’t mind at all,” he says, a faint smile curving his lips. “Though I must admit, it looks better on you than I expected.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at his comment, and he seems to notice, because his smile widens slightly. Viktor rarely makes such remarks, but when he does, they always leave you momentarily speechless.

“Come here,” he says gently, extending his free hand toward you. “You’re shivering. I don’t want you to get sick.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrapping around yours. He leads you to the couch and helps you sit. “I’ll make something warm for you. Wait here.”

You watch as he moves toward the kitchen, his steps careful and precise. As you watch him, you can’t help but feel a mix of tenderness and admiration. Viktor is always so considerate, even when he’s exhausted.

A few minutes later, he returns with a steaming cup of tea. He sits next to you, offering it with a look that reflects both concern and something more intimate. “Drink slowly, it’s hot.”

You take a sip, feeling the warmth spread from your throat to your chest. “Thanks, darling. You always know how to take care of me.”

He looks at you, his expression more relaxed now. “It’s natural to want to take care of someone who means so much to you,” he says with a sincerity that makes your heart race.

You set the cup down on the table, turning toward him. “And you? How was your day?”

Viktor leans back against the couch, his gaze drifting for a moment. “It was... long. But seeing you here, wearing my shirt, makes it all worth it.”

His words are simple, but the weight behind them hits you hard. You lean toward him, taking his hand in yours. “I like wearing your clothes. It makes me feel close to you, like I’m carrying a piece of you with me.”

Viktor looks at you, his expression softening even more. “Then you should wear them more often,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a mix of affection and tenderness. “Though it might be hard to get them back if you look this good in them.”

You smile, feeling completely at home in this little world you’ve built together. “Maybe I’ll never return them,” you joke, enjoying the soft laugh that escapes his lips.

He leans in a little closer, his hand gently caressing yours. “That wouldn’t be a problem. I can always buy more, but seeing you like this... that’s something priceless.”

Jinx

You're at Jinx's hideout after a day full of adventures in Zaun. You had been helping her with some of her projects, and amidst all the excitement and chaos, you ended up with your clothes completely ruined, covered in paint and grease stains.

"Wow, wow! Look at you!" Jinx says, laughing as she points at your shirt and pants. "Looks like your clothes lost the battle against my masterpiece."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Yeah, looks like I need a change of clothes urgently."

Without missing a beat, Jinx jumps towards one of her wardrobes, rummaging through her quirky collection of garments. "I know! Put this on." She pulls out a black crop top and one of her signature jackets—blue with neon details—and tosses them to you with a mischievous grin. "You'll look awesome. Trust me."

After taking off your dirty clothes, you put on the crop top and finish with the jacket. "How do I look?" you ask, spinning around so Jinx can see.

She watches you with a growing smile. Her blue eyes sparkle with excitement as she quickly approaches, tugging at the sleeves to adjust them on your arms. "Oh, for the love of explosions! You look amazing! It's like this jacket was made for you!" Jinx steps back to admire you better, placing a hand on her chin as if evaluating a piece of art.

"It's not what I usually wear, but your style suits me better than I thought," you say, feeling the warmth of her gaze.

Jinx claps, thrilled. "I knew it! I knew it! My instincts never fail." Then, her eyes light up even more, as if she just had the most brilliant idea in the world. "I know! From now on, we could wear matching outfits. It'd be awesome! You and me, matching styles, taking Zaun by storm as an unstoppable duo."

You laugh at her enthusiasm. "Matching outfits? That sounds... interesting."

"No, no, no! It sounds absolutely amazing," she insists, giving you a quick spin to see how the jacket fits from all angles. Suddenly, her eyes stop on the back of the jacket, and an even bigger smile spreads across her face.

"What is it, sweets?" you ask, noticing her fixed gaze.

"Well... look at the back," she says with a mischievous laugh.

You turn to see the back of the jacket and realize that, in big letters, it has "Jinx" written on it. You turn back to her with a raised eyebrow and a playful smile. "So, you're marking your territory or what? You don't want anyone getting confused about whose jacket this is?"

Jinx bursts into laughter, throwing herself at you and wrapping her arms around you. "Exactly! Now everyone will know you're mine... or at least rocking my style! It's perfect, right?"

You join her laughter, wrapping your arms around her. "Aw sweets, I didn't know you were the type to mark your territory."

She shrugs with a cheeky grin, her face close to yours. "Well, I don't want anyone else claiming my girl. Now everyone will know if they see you, they're looking at half of our dynamic duo!"

Jinx's energy is contagious, and although you know this situation is completely crazy, you can't help but feel comfortable and cherished by her. "Well, I guess I have no choice but to embrace my new look," you say with a smile.

"That's it! Now, with this jacket and my name on your back, we'll be unstoppable!" Jinx leans in, putting an arm around your shoulders and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Vi

You’d had a bad day. The city of Zaun wasn’t exactly friendly, and after a stumble, you ended up in a puddle full of dirty water with a nauseating smell you couldn't even describe. As you walked towards Vi’s place, with your legs soaked and irritation taking over, all you could think about was how lucky you were to have Vi to vent to and shake off this bad day.

When you arrived at her door, frustration and exhaustion were written all over your face. You knocked on the door, and as always, Vi opened it with a teasing smile, though upon seeing you like this, her expression changed to a mix of concern and amusement.

“What happened to you?” she asked with a playful grin, noticing the discouragement on your face.

"Zaun," you grunted, almost growling as you stepped inside. "I fell into a puddle. Everything stinks."

Vi let out a soft laugh. “Wow! You must be thrilled. Are you sure you're not going to become Zaun's new statue?” she said in her sarcastic tone, but there was something more in her eyes. A hidden concern behind her teasing tone.

“I’m not in the mood,” you muttered as you headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The sensation of the hot water was comforting, and after a few minutes, you managed to feel like some of your bad day had washed away. However, upon exiting, you realized you didn’t have anything else to wear.

Vi, always attentive to these details, had left one of her favorite shirts on the bed. The red shirt, which always fit you loosely and had, over time, become something you wore more often. You put it on without thinking too much. The smell of Vi on the garment gave you a sense of calm, but at the same time, the tension that had always existed between you grew a bit more.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Vi was in the living room, lying back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. She watched you silently as you entered, a gleam in her eyes that didn’t go unnoticed. The shirt, oversized on you, moved with each of your steps, and despite how awkward the situation could be, you felt incredibly drawn to her gaze.

Vi sat up straight, her eyes fixed on you. The smile that spread across her face was almost predatory. “So, you’re wearing it again, huh?” Her voice was soft, but there was a touch of challenge and desire in it that you couldn’t ignore. “You look... interesting.”

You shrugged, though the way she looked at you made you feel more exposed than you’d like. “You left it there for me, Vi. And yes, I like wearing it, it's comfortable.” But as you spoke, her eyes didn’t leave you, scanning you from top to bottom with that intensity that always made time seem to stop.

Vi approached slowly, her steps sure, almost as if she was savoring every second that passed near you. “Just comfortable? Are you sure?” Her voice was lower now, filled with a dangerous softness. “Because that shirt... it’s kind of sexy. And it seems like it’s not just the shirt. It’s like you’re saying, ‘I’m yours,’ but without saying it out loud.”

The atmosphere became heavy, the tension floating in the air was impossible to miss. Your cheeks flushed red at Vi’s proximity, at the words she had said and the way she had said them. You tried to maintain your composure, but the heat in your body didn’t lie.

“And what if it is?” you asked, your words bolder than you thought, as you looked her in the eyes.

Vi stopped in front of you, her hands resting on her hips, watching you with a mix of challenge and attraction. “Then,” she said, her eyes sparkling with complicity, “can I claim you as mine?” The way she said it, with that low, enveloping tone, made your heart race. The tension between the two of you was palpable, as if the distance between you disappeared with every word.

You stepped closer, enough to feel the warmth of her body, her breath almost on yours. “I don’t think you need to ask for permission,” you said, using a defiant smile, knowing the game had begun.

Vi smiled with that mischievous glint in her eyes, stepping even closer. “You’re right. I marked you as mine long before you wore this shirt.” She tugged at the hem of the shirt and pulled you closer to her. “But, do you want me to mark you now in another way?”

You felt everything inside you react to her closeness, and you knew this was about to get much more intense. Vi always had that power over you, and the way she was looking at you now proved it.

“That sounds tempting,” you murmured, your words coming out softer than you expected, but without regret.

With a satisfied smile, Vi finally took you by the waist and gently brought your lips to hers. “Then let’s not waste time, little deer,” she whispered before kissing you with an intensity as great as your desire for her.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn and you had just returned from a recent mission. It had been a long day, filled with tensions, reports, and the constant need to maintain the facade of control. But now, after leaving the worries behind, all you wanted was to relax and enjoy Caitlyn's company, who always managed to make the chaos of the day fade away, at least for a while.

In the bathroom, the steam mixed with the heat, surrounding you as you sank into the relaxation the tub brought. Caitlyn was beside you, dipping into the water to wet her hair, the situation beginning to feel more intimate than usual. Both of you had made it a habit to share a bath after work, an opportunity to shed the physical and mental tensions.

Though you had been together in moments of camaraderie, the brush of your wet bodies in the water created a new, different sensation. Caitlyn's hands sometimes slid softly over your back, seeking to relax tense muscles, and you reciprocated, letting out sighs as the closeness became more palpable. Occasionally, her fingers lingered a bit longer than necessary, touching you with a softness that made you shiver.

After finishing, Caitlyn was the first to step out of the bath, running a towel through her hair with a certain awkwardness. "I need something comfortable, do you mind if we wear pajamas?" she asked, almost without thinking, as she headed to her room. There was no need to ask, as something always felt very natural about how she behaved with you, though this time something in her demeanor caught your attention.

When you entered her room, Caitlyn had already changed, but she left the door slightly ajar while pulling out a long-sleeved shirt and comfortable pants. The sight of her bare back made you stop for a moment, watching her with a mix of admiration and restrained desire. It wasn’t the first time you had seen her in light clothing, but something about her attitude tonight felt different. As she dressed, her movements were softer, more... delicate, as if she were waiting for something. Caitlyn turned just as you walked in, giving you the chance to see her in her comfortable clothes.

"Don’t look at me like that," she said, smiling, as always, with that mix of challenge and amusement in her gaze.

"Impossible not to, sheriff," you joked, moving closer to grab your own pajamas and change, but before you could do so, Caitlyn looked at you with an intensity that made you feel uncomfortable in a pleasant way.

You stopped, confused by the intensity in her gaze. "What’s wrong, Cait?" you asked, with a soft smile, feeling how the atmosphere was becoming heavier. "You’re acting different."

Caitlyn took a step toward you, approaching with her typical leader stance, but something in her face said she wasn’t as sure of herself as usual. Her fingers played with the edge of her shirt as she looked at you. "It’s just that..." she began, clearly hesitant, "it’s just that... I like seeing you in my clothes. It’s not just that they fit you well, it’s that... it feels right."

The air between you suddenly thickened, the tension floating, as if her words had opened a door neither of you knew if you were ready to cross. Caitlyn, usually so confident, was now showing vulnerability, but with a vulnerability you had never seen in her before.

You approached her, noticing how her eyes shone a little more than usual. You took her by the shoulders, with a softness that contrasted with her strong character. "Why is it so important to you?" you asked in a low voice, feeling that this moment was different from any other you had experienced with her.

Caitlyn sighed, her fingers touching the fabric of her shirt on your skin. "It’s... hard to explain, but seeing you in my clothes makes me feel closer to you, as if we were even more... partners. It’s weird, I know."

For a moment, all you could do was look at her, your heart pounding in your chest as you processed her words. Caitlyn, so reserved, so firm always, was showing you a side of her that she only shared with you. And that made you feel more connected than ever.

You took her hand, gently stroking it and recognizing the vulnerability in her posture. "I understand," you said, smiling softly. "I like seeing you like this too. Not just in your clothes... but in everything you are. I don’t mind."

Caitlyn looked at you, a shy but genuine smile appearing on her face as her eyes softened. "I guess I’m always looking for ways to stay in control... but with you, it seems I let go of that facade," she said, almost as if speaking to herself. "I feel better when I have you close."

Then, without warning, Caitlyn hugged you, wrapping her arms around you protectively, a soft caress, almost as if seeking comfort. The hug lingered, and in that moment everything seemed to stop. The mission, the worries, the rules. It was just the moment when the two of you truly felt connected, without any barriers separating you.

Jayce

After a long, exhausting day filled with endless debates in the Council, Jayce finally arrives home. The doors open with a soft creak, and the sound of his footsteps echoes down the quiet hallway. You know he’s had a rough day, and you’ve prepared to welcome him in the best way possible. You’ve been working on dinner, almost ready for when he returns, but the most important part is how you plan to greet him.

You’re in the living room, holding a glass of wine, your body draped in Jayce’s white shirt. You know it’s much larger on you than it is on him, and you’ve done it intentionally. Traditional dresses or outfits seem unnecessary now; all you want is to see him relax, to feel good after a long day.

As he approaches, his eyes widen at the sight of you, his shirt hanging off your shoulders, the hem brushing your thighs. However, what catches his attention the most is how you’re wearing nothing underneath. The contrast between your relaxed demeanor and the tension reflected in his face is immediate.

“Welcome home,” you say with a soft smile, raising the glass of wine towards him. “I thought you could use some rest.”

Jayce takes a long breath, as if trying to maintain his composure, but it’s clear that the sight before him has thrown him off balance. His eyes briefly trail over your figure before meeting yours, where the tension is palpable.

“What… what are you doing?” he asks, clearly affected but trying to keep his tone serious, though his eyes betray him.

“I’ve prepared some dinner,” you respond with a playful smile. “Come to the kitchen with me, please. It’s almost ready.”

As you walk towards the kitchen, you can feel his gaze fixed on you. Jayce can’t help but follow you with his eyes, appreciating every detail of your form, especially the way the shirt clings to your body, leaving little to the imagination. The atmosphere in the house has changed, becoming warmer, but also more charged than anyone could have anticipated.

When you reach the kitchen, you start chopping some vegetables, focused on the task but fully aware that Jayce hasn’t stopped looking at you for even a second. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board fills the space initially, but as time passes, you feel the tension between you both growing.

It’s as if the air thickens, and finally, he can’t resist anymore. Jayce steps forward, slowly moving behind you until you can feel his warmth against your back. His body presses against yours, his breathing now deep and almost irregular. The closeness of his body makes your heart race faster, and the brush of his chest against your back heightens the intensity of the situation… in the best way.

“You look incredible,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to admit what he’s feeling. His breath grazes your neck, and the heat of his body melds with yours, filling you with an electric sensation. “Seeing you in my shirt... I can’t handle it. It turns me on more than I’d like to admit.”

You feel your skin prickling at his words, and for a moment, the knife in your hand is suspended in the air. But you don’t let it fall, even though you’re close to losing yourself in the sensation he provokes in you.

“Oh, really?” you tease, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. “What, are you jealous of your own clothes?”

Jayce chuckles softly, a sound full of tension and desire. “It’s not jealousy,” he responds with a smile that barely conceals what he’s feeling. “It’s... fascination. I didn’t know something as simple as a shirt could... affect me this way.”

You feel him move even closer, his body now pressed fully against yours, making the space between you nearly vanish. His hand, soft yet firm, rests on your hip, and the contact is so intimate you could swear the world is about to fade away in that instant.

“You look so good,” he says, his tone now deeper, filled with desire. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life.” His erection clearly pressing against your backside.

Finally, after that whisper full of desire, Jayce pulls back slightly, looking down with a small smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so direct… but I couldn’t help it. You drive me crazy.”

You turn fully towards him, still smiling, as you take a step closer, closing the gap. “I don’t want apologies. I just want you.” You whisper, before cupping his face in your hands and devouring his lips.

Ekko

Ekko enters his workshop, closing the door with a tired sigh. The gears keep turning, the hum of the machines welcomes him as always. You step into the space after hearing his footsteps. Ekko didn’t expect to find an unexpected scene: you, wearing his orange bandana around your neck, his sleeveless white shirt, and a pair of his baggy pants that barely allow you to walk properly. It was like you were cosplaying him.

You throw him a playful look as you adjust the shirt, which is obviously much larger than you. You smile as you see his eyes widen slightly, observing your figure draped in his clothes.

"What? Do you like my style?" you ask with a mischievous tone, noticing the sparkle in his eyes. The Ekko you know isn't easily startled, but now, you can tell something has slightly caught him off guard.

"I wasn’t expecting this," he responds with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he watches you with a mix of interest and amusement. "So, you took over my clothes without asking? Are you planning to take my entire wardrobe too, or just this for now?"

Your laughter is soft but playful. You know you're teasing him, but you enjoy seeing how his confident attitude meets this little challenge. "Does it bother you?" you ask as you step closer, playful.

Ekko takes a step towards you, wearing that characteristic, confident smile. "Of course, it doesn’t bother me, babe," he replies in a teasing tone, moving closer. "It’s just that I feel bad saying it doesn't suit you as much as it suits me," Ekko puffed out his chest with an air of arrogance that made you roll your eyes.

"Please, Ekko, we both know you're only saying that because you feel threatened. It’s not my fault your clothes look better on me than on you. It gives me a mysterious vibe," you joke in the same tone.

Ekko lets out a laugh, one that shows he’s fully into the joke, enjoying the chemistry between you two. "Mysterious, huh? You’re right. It’s strange seeing you so... you, but with a touch of my style," he responds, still smiling.

At that moment, you look him directly in the eyes, and without thinking, you say with a mischievous smile, "I think it’s going to cost you a lot to get it back, huh? Maybe I’ll make you a deal... I’ll give it back, but in exchange for something."

Ekko's face lights up with a grin of complicity. "Hmm, I don’t know if I want to know what kind of deal you have in mind," he replies in a low voice, clearly interested. "But now that you mention it, I might be willing to negotiate."

The tension in the air becomes more palpable, the electricity between you more intense. Ekko seems relaxed, but his gaze, his posture, everything about him says he’s enjoying the situation. You can’t help it; the power play between you is present, and you both enjoy it.

You step a little closer, almost closing the space between you and Ekko, feeling his warmth and the vibrant energy that always accompanies him. "Are you really willing to negotiate?" you ask, tilting your head slightly, letting your tone become a bit softer, more seductive. "Because if you are, I have a few ideas..."

Ekko looks at you with those bright eyes, always full of life and challenge. "Oh, I see you come with plans," he replies, his voice low and deep, full of the same playful energy you both are enjoying. "Tell me, what kind of deal do you have in mind?"

You slide your hands around his neck, letting them rest on his shoulders, while you play with one of his dreadlocks. "Well, you could start by convincing me why I should give you back your clothes," you whisper, leaning in close enough that your breath brushes against his skin.

Ekko smiles, clearly enjoying this little game. "Convince you, huh?" His hand slowly travels to your waist, holding you with a confidence that has always fascinated you. "What if I propose something? Maybe we could share it."

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, pretending surprise. "Share it? Wow, that sounds pretty generous of you. But what do I get out of it?"

Ekko tilts his head to the side, studying you with that sharp gaze that always seems to see more than you let on. "You get to have something of mine, something that reminds you of me every time you wear it. And I... I get the lucky chance to see you wearing it, like now."

His words, full of sincerity but wrapped in that light, playful tone, make your heart race a little faster. You feel the warmth of his hand on your waist, his proximity, and you can’t help but smile. "Sounds like a good deal," you murmur, brushing your nose against his.

Ekko holds you closer, his smile soft but confident. "And maybe, every now and then, you’ll let me get a piece of clothing back... but only if you promise to return it like this, with your added style."

You laugh softly, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body and the soft drumming of his heart under your hand. "Sounds fair," you reply before closing the distance between you and sealing the deal with a soft but meaningful kiss.

Silco

The atmosphere in Silco's office is always charged. The dim light from the lamps illuminates the dark corners of the room as he sits behind his desk, his calculating eyes focused on the pile of papers and documents in front of him. Since taking control of Zaun, his life has been immersed in a routine of power and difficult decisions.

However, today something has changed. Today, you have sneaked into his space. He knew you were approaching, he had heard your footsteps, but it wasn't until you entered that he realized what was about to happen.

You approach him with a firm step, and without warning, you settle on his lap, making him pause in what he was doing. You’re wearing his jacket, large, with the collar up, covering you completely and hanging from your shoulders. The garment is unmistakably his, and it fits you in a way Silco couldn’t have anticipated. The jacket, which gives your figure a more mysterious and dominant air, seems to imbue you with more than just his style; it makes you part of his world.

You settle comfortably on him, smiling playfully, enjoying the control you have over the situation. Silco observes you with a slight smile on his lips, though he doesn’t take his eyes off you. At first, he says nothing, but when his eyes fix on your clothing, his tone subtly changes, filled with that authoritative air that characterizes him so well.

"You've been holed up here all day, not paying much attention," you confess in a tender whisper.

"Is that why you're wearing my jacket?" he asks, in a deep voice, as his eyes scan your figure. It’s clear he notices the game you’re starting, and a spark of interest ignites in his gaze.

"I just wanted your attention," you respond with a mischievous smile, enjoying the closeness and the way Silco watches you, as if evaluating every move.

Silco raises an eyebrow, not losing his composure. "And what makes you think wearing my clothes will get it?" His tone is challenging, but something else shines in his eyes. There’s a mix of curiosity and, perhaps, a bit of amusement, something he rarely shows.

"Maybe because it looks much better on me than on you," you reply with a light laugh, feeling how the tension in the air shifts slightly, but without losing the essence of the power you both share.

"It suits you," Silco says, without taking his eyes off you. "You are… an interesting interruption."

He leans in a little closer, his presence always so imposing. "But, you know? What you're wearing isn’t just clothing," he adds, with that deep voice that always makes you feel as if you're being drawn into him. "It's a reminder. Of who you are, and who you belong to."

The air becomes tense, not because of the threat in his tone, but because of the intention perceived in his words. Silco, in his own way, is marking territory. It’s not something obvious or rude, but a subtle gesture that speaks of his way of claiming, of having control over what is his, over you.

You move closer to him, and the distance between the two of you shortens until you can feel his breath nearer. "Who do you belong to, Silco?" you ask softly, almost as a challenge, maintaining a firm, confident gaze.

Silco doesn’t respond immediately, but his eyes soften, and he looks you up and down with a mix of admiration and possessiveness. A side of him that he rarely shows.

"That’s something only you and I will know," he replies, and immediately takes a step toward you, positioning himself so close that the tension feels like a weight in the air. You can’t escape his presence, but you don’t want to either.

Finally, when the space between you is almost nonexistent, Silco places a hand on your shoulder, touching the fabric of the jacket delicately, as if this piece of clothing represents something more than just a garment.

"Take off the jacket," he orders in a whisper, with that deep voice that knows how to make every word feel significant.

Without waiting for you to do it immediately, he takes it with one hand and slides it off your shoulders gently, as if he wants to hold onto that moment a bit longer. When the jacket falls to the floor, Silco looks at it for a second, and then his eyes lock onto yours again.

"No need for more clothing between us, is there?" he murmurs, a challenging tone in his voice. "But if you insist on wearing something of mine, make sure it's what I want."

Mel

The atmosphere in Mel’s mansion is filled with sophistication and soft lights illuminating the walls adorned with high-class art. The event in Piltover, which both of you are about to attend, is one of the most anticipated of the year, and Mel, as always, is ready to stand out. Her presence is undeniable, but tonight, something feels different. The air between you is charged with an energy that rarely occurs between two such powerful individuals, but today, there is a closeness evident from the very first moment.

After hours of preparation, Mel is ready, but she notices that you still haven’t found the right dress. “Don’t worry about that,” she says with a confident smile, her tone soft yet firm. “I have something that will make you shine more than anyone else at that event.”

With an elegant gesture, Mel approaches the wardrobe where she keeps her most exclusive garments and shows you a dress that immediately takes your breath away. It’s a long black silk dress with golden details that seem to catch the light with every movement. The neckline is subtle but enough to suggest powerful elegance. The fabric falls gracefully, highlighting the figure without being vulgar, and at the back, there is a slit that reveals your legs in a sophisticated way.

Mel holds it up in front of you, and her eyes gleam with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity. “This is perfect for you,” she says with confidence, knowing her choice is flawless. “I want you to feel as impressive as you truly are.”

It takes you a moment to process the idea of wearing such a stunning dress, but you can’t help but smile. You feel a hint of excitement and perhaps something more in the air.

The moment you put on the dress, something changes. Mel watches as the fabric fits your body, her gaze attentive and assessing, but also filled with something more, as if she’s seeing beyond just appearance. The dress fits perfectly, as if it had been made especially for you, and Mel can’t help but smile, proud of having made the right choice.

When you finally see yourself in the mirror, you realize what she’s seeing. You become aware that, somehow, you’ve transformed into someone else. The dress highlights your strength and elegance, but it also gives you a vulnerability you’ve never felt before.

“Perfect,” Mel says, her voice soft, but her gaze full of approval. “I knew you’d be dazzling.”

She then steps closer and places a hand on your shoulder, slightly adjusting the fabric as if ensuring everything is in place is an important task for her. When she steps back to observe you again, her eyes show a warm glow, as if she’s proud of you in a very personal way.

“Now,” she says, her tone more playful, “let’s make everyone in Piltover wonder who this woman with so much power and beauty is.”

You smile, taking her hand with renewed confidence. The tension in the air feels electric, but this time it’s different. It’s not just about attending an important event but about the closeness of how you both feel at this moment.

When you’re finally ready to leave the mansion, Mel looks at you with a small smile, but full of admiration. “Let’s conquer this event together,” she says with the confidence that always accompanies her, and you know that with her by your side, there’s nothing you can’t achieve.

Sevika

It’s a calm afternoon in Zaun, but you know you can’t relax too much. Sevika has just returned from a mission, her body covered in oil stains and dust, but it seems like just another layer over her tough, hardened skin. Although it’s unusual for her to show vulnerability, today, for some reason, she seems more human, more approachable.

She enters the room with a firm step, but something seems to have left her tired. She’s looking at you without saying anything, though you know that silence rarely means there’s nothing more beneath the surface with Sevika.

You decide to take advantage of being in her space, knowing there’s no work to be done tonight. As you approach her, a strange calm takes over you. Without much thought, you head toward her wardrobe, opening the doors in hopes of finding something comfortable to wear. You know she’s not one to be easily unsettled by your jokes or your presence in her space.

In a moment of her inattention, you find a large leather jacket, rugged in design, clearly meant for someone more imposing than you. “I think this will fit me,” you murmur to yourself as you put it on without much thought.

When Sevika sees you, her eyes trail over your figure with a gaze full of attention. She doesn’t say anything immediately, but silence fills the air. However, her posture changes, and Sevika’s typical confidence unfolds with force. She crosses her arms and watches you, as if evaluating a new threat.

“Did you take my jacket?” she finally asks, her voice firm but with a small spark of amusement.

“What? Don’t you like how it looks on me?” you tease, challenging her to say something.

Sevika approaches you, unhurried but imposing. Her eyes never stop observing you, almost with curiosity. When she’s close, she extends a hand and, with a finger, touches the part of the jacket on your shoulder, examining it closely.

“Not bad,” she responds in a deep tone, but her gaze reflects something more.

You feel a bit provocative sensing her tone, deciding to play a bit more. “Do you like seeing me in something of yours?” you ask, smiling as you step closer to her.

The tension between the two of you rises. Sevika isn’t one to lose control, but you know that sometimes you like to challenge her. The brush of her finger on the jacket, her eyes fixed on you, and that way she has of dominating the situation make you feel the heat building in the air.

“Maybe you like being in my territory,” Sevika replies, her voice softer than you expected but still loaded with authority. The way she moves closer makes it feel like she’s already marking her space but leaves room for the game.

Suddenly, as if it had all been planned, Sevika steps toward you, her face close to yours, her lips almost touching your ear as she whispers, “Just make sure that jacket isn’t the only thing you take from me.”

Her tone is low, full of unspoken promises. The brush of her body against yours is inevitable, and at that moment, everything you’ve been waiting for seems to collapse in the air. Sevika isn’t the typical woman who gives herself easily, but she does enjoy playing with limits.

You stand there, wearing Sevika’s jacket on your shoulders, feeling her evaluating you, challenging you, and provoking you all at the same time.

You know Sevika isn’t someone who likes losing control, but you have a special place in her life, a place where trust mixes with that spark of madness that makes everything much more interesting.

“And what else would you like me to take from you?” you ask, keeping the challenge in your words, a playful smile appearing on your lips.

She stares at you intently, and the intensity of her gaze lets you know that, even though her attitude is one of control, she’s well aware of what’s happening between the two of you. The tension is at its peak, but Sevika simply smiles, that confident smile only she knows how to give.

“That, you’ll find out soon,” she replies in a softer tone than you imagined.

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] Chapter 4: Dazed.

Previously // Next - (chapter list) / (AO3 ver)

Jack sat slumped on the living room couch with a TV remote in hand, the screen flicking from one channel through the next. With his attention still mostly focused on the man in the bathroom, his ears twitched as they picked up the noise of the faucet being turned on.

He sniffed. That sharp, metallic tang of blood clung stubbornly to his nose still.

Jack had already called in sick earlier, using last night’s downpour as a convenient excuse. The few days off will give him some breathing room and time to watch over his new guest, though he couldn't help but feel a little guilty about shifting his workload onto his colleagues. They're good people, he knew they wouldn’t hold it against him, but still, the nagging thought lingered.

His nose itched. “ACHOO! Oh!” Jack sneezed loudly, startling even himself. He rubbed his nose, muttering a soft “bless me.”

The apartment felt too quiet now. Jack glanced toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. He sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions as the tension from earlier lingered. The encounter had left him feeling a bit more muted than usual, but at the same time, he knew he wouldn’t have acted any differently.

“What have I gotten myself into…?” he mumbled under his breath.

His dulled eyes fixated on the TV screen, though the flashing images barely registered in his head.

"What now?”

Some Toon actor was bouncing around, spouting catchphrases in a voice too cheerful for his current mood. Jack's thumb hovered over the remote, but he didn’t bother changing the channel. The noise was better than silence at least.

He supposed he should be grateful the Grim hadn't turned this situation into some Toon-Noir crime scene, though he was surprised it hadn't already, especially with what happened earlier. Still, how long would this last?

The thought made him groan softly, dragging a hand down his face as his impulsive decision slapped him in the face once again. "Sweet," he murmured in frustration, though it was mostly directed towards himself. "Just wing it with a literal Grim-mob-boss-looking guy in your house. No big deal."

The flickering light of the television danced across his face, but his expression was devoid of any response, like the static had seeped into him. The thoughts churning in his head felt distant.

Why does he always have to care so much?

Sure, the Grim guy looked like he was on the verge of death when Jack found him, but wasn’t that all the more reason to take him to a hospital? Or the authorities? Somewhere, anywhere, better equipped to deal with a situation like that? Jack had no business dragging him back to his apartment like this!

The memory of that night was blurry, tinged with adrenaline and rain. Jack’s fingers twitched slightly at the thought of how cold the man’s skin had felt, his weight on Jack's back as he carried him through the downpour, the blood that seeped into his suit. His decision had been made in a split second; impulsive and reckless.

What if the Grim man died in his apartment?

The thought settled over Jack like a heavy, suffocating blanket, but even that couldn’t stir much from him. His breath came out soft and steady, not quite a sigh but close enough.

What would he have done if the man's blood had soaked into the floor and left a corpse behind? Call the police? Try to explain why there was a Grim dead in his apartment? Would they even believe him?

What if it was him who got killed? Shot in the head with that gun in the man's suit, the one Jack took away and hid from him when they arrived in his apartment.

If he had, mummy and daddy would be sad if they heard about it. He felt apologetic when he thought about how his parents would react if news reached that their son had been left for dead in the city they thought had been the safest for him. He knows not to worry them, yet here he was.

Thoughts continued to circle lazily in his mind, but none of them seemed to matter all that much. Not really. None of them had mattered back then either. It had been raining, he saw someone dying, and he’d acted. That was all there was to it, even if the decision felt dumb now. Still, was it the right thing to do?

The TV show's laughter filled the room, a stark contrast to his blank stare.

Jack was pulled from his spiraling thoughts by the faint sound of footsteps. Turning his head toward the source, he saw the scarred man standing in the corridor entrance.

The clothes Jack had left for him were a tad bit tight on the mobster’s muscular frame, but he didn't seem bothered by it, which was good. The Grim's sharp eyes looked around the apartment, taking in every detail with the same wariness that hadn't left him since he woke up.

Jack snapped out of his pondering, and offered him a tentative smile. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Ah, sorry if the place looks a little… unkempt," he said, his voice lighter than he felt. "It's usually a bit more put together, I promise. Just haven’t had much time or energy lately to clean up."

The man didn’t respond right away. His gaze lingered on the coffee table, where a few cans of beer sat among scattered wrappers and an empty cup of noodles. They looked like they hadn't been taken out in a while. Then, his gaze shifted to the bedroom doorway where Jack had hastily cleaned up the remnants of the spilled food from earlier.

His eyes finally met Jack's. The Toon resisted the urge to shrink under the weight of that gaze. Instead, he smiled at him. "My place ain't much, but make yourself comfortable."

The silence stretched between them as the Grim's expression didn't change and went back to looking around the small room. It wasn’t exactly the warmest start to a conversation, but Jack supposes he should start getting used to that.

Still, something about having the Grim man standing there, alive and fully clothed, was oddly grounding. It's a bit amazing seeing him able to get up and walk around in that condition, actually.

Jack's smile faltered, slipping away as he found himself staring at the man without realizing it. His gaze trailed over his big frame and drifted to the scars etched across his skin. He'd seen them while he was tending to his wounds, running along in numbers from his face down to his ankles.

How does someone end up with scars like that? It was the kind of curiosity that gnawed at him, the kind he knew better than to voice aloud. Whatever had left those marks behind probably wasn’t the kind of thing the Grim would ever want to talk about, let alone to someone like Jack.

Noticing Jack's staring, the man’s sharp gaze shifted, landing back on him. Jack blinks, realizing he’d been caught staring. He mustered up a sheepish smile, just a slight upward tilt of his lips that teetered on the edge of awkwardness.

“Uh. There’s food in the pot,” Jack offered. He gestured toward the kitchen with a quick nod of his head. “And some leftover rice in the rice cooker. Help yourself if you’re hungry, okay?”

The man said nothing, his expression impassive, but his attention lingered on Jack for a moment longer before finally glancing toward the kitchen. Jack's smile fell once the man’s gaze moved away.

He had put together something simple earlier, something that wouldn’t upset his injuries or require much effort to chew. The deeper cuts were across the man’s stomach and sides, they looked like wounds that would make eating anything too heavy or dense a painful experience, or so he assumed, at least. He's honestly never done anything like this before, he only recalls the first aid training and recalls none of the book stuff.

A basic porridge seemed like the safest option. Rice simmered in broth until it was soft, with just a bit of shredded chicken and a few vegetables tossed in for flavor. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was warm and filling. He hoped his guest wasn’t a picky eater.

He noticed the man lingering in the corridor, as if debating whether to follow Jack’s invitation or retreat. Catching on, Jack decided to turn his focus back to the TV.

He lazily changes the channel and the screen flickered with images of a car accident somewhere near the city, the voice of the reporter droning on about casualties and road closures. Jack wasn’t really paying attention.

He’d never been exposed to a Grim before. Were they all this unfriendly or was it just this one?

Jack yawns, a bit groggy. Maybe he was overthinking it, or maybe he wasn’t thinking enough. Either way, he was exhausted, especially after spending the whole night awake taking care of that man.

His body slowly slid down the couch, lying down with an ungraceful sprawl, his consciousness slowly slipping into sleep. _

Previously // Next - (chapter list) / (AO3 ver)

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

yes situationship w katsuki!!!!

Situationship with Bakugo Headcanons

(a.k.a. the slowest slow burn of your life because this man is emotionally constipated but obsessed with you)

Denial, Denial, Denial Bakugo refuses to acknowledge that you two are in a situationship. He’ll scoff and say, "Tch, we’re just close, dumbass," while literally walking you to class, bringing you your favorite snacks, and giving you his hoodie when you complain about the AC.

Acts Like Your Boyfriend, But Won’t Admit It Will glare at any guy who flirts with you. Will put his arm around your chair when someone’s getting too close. But if you call him out on it, he just grumbles.

"You hungry?" Instead of asking you on actual dates, he just texts "You hungry?" and drags you to eat with him. Bonus points if it’s late at night and you’re in sweats—he thinks it’s cute but would rather die than say it.

Touch Starved but in Denial Will casually touch you—a hand on your lower back when guiding you somewhere, knee brushing yours under the desk, a firm grip on your wrist when dragging you along. If you pull away just to tease him, he gets irrationally annoyed.

He’s Always Looking for You He won’t admit it, but his eyes always scan the room for you first. If you’re not in class, he notices. If you’re not at lunch, he’s grumbling under his breath, acting like he doesn’t care.

Gets Jealous but Won’t Say It If someone makes you laugh a little too much, he’ll suddenly get so irritated. Will probably glare at them and then pull you away. Who does that extra even think he is, anyways?

Would Kill for You, But Casually If someone ever disrespects you, he’s already rolling up his sleeves. "I'll blow their ass to America, or you wanna handle it first?"

Sleeps Better When You’re Around If you ever fall asleep next to him, even if it’s just leaning against his shoulder during a movie, he’s so still, afraid to move. And if you ever sleep in his bed? He pretends it’s annoying but sleeps like a baby that night.

He’s Down Bad, But Clueless Kirishima and Kaminari constantly tease him about how obvious his feelings are. He just scowls and says, "Piss off. We’re not dating." But if you so much as look at someone else for too long? He’s about ready to combust.

The Final Straw One day, after months of dancing around each other, you tease him: "What, do you actually like me or something?" expecting his usual 'Tch, in your dreams' response. But instead, he just stares at you, jaw clenched, eyes burning—before grabbing your wrist and muttering, "Yeah. I do. So what?" And that’s when the situationship ends—because now, it’s real.

[urno1luv]

Can you please make the puppy gf yunjin into a full fic/imagine including the things you already said in the short you posted? 🙏🙏🙏

encountering a clingy puppy hybrid called yunjin and falling in love with her, despite her weird and often creepy antics -◇

tags: clingy yunjin, breaking in, she's lowkey a creep (but not a perverted one), obsessive?, desperate sex (gp and non gp versions)

The first time Yunjin noticed you, her world tilted. Her floppy ears perked up, her pupils dilated, and her tail wagged in excitement. Something about you—the way you smiled shyly at your friend, the way your voice carried across the room—made her chest ache in ways she didn’t understand. It wasn’t love at first sight. It was more than that.

From then on, Yunjin became a shadow in your life, always lingering just a step behind, like a lost puppy. At first, you thought it was sweet. She’d always find you during breaks, showing up with your favorite snacks or insisting on walking you to your next class, her arm in yours. Her presence was magnetic—warm, comforting. You didn’t notice how tightly her fingers gripped your arm when she pulled you closer, or how her smile faded the moment someone else tried to talk to you.

But then, the texts started.

“Where are you?”

“Who are you with?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

You’d barely reply before your phone buzzed again, another question, another demand. The messages came at all hours, and when you didn’t respond, she’d call—her voice breathless, almost panicked.

“I was worried,” she’d say, her tone dripping with sweetness, though there was an edge to her words that made you uneasy.

One evening, as you were heading home, you spotted Yunjin waiting outside your door. She wasn’t supposed to know where you lived...😰

“Yunjin?” you asked, trying to mask the surprise in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled, holding up a bag, her canines shining through her genuine smile. “You mentioned you weren’t feeling well, so I brought you soup. I just wanted to take care of you.”

It was a thoughtful gesture, but the way her warm eyes bore into yours made your skin prickle.

“Thanks, but… how did you know where I live?”

Her smile widened. “Oh, I asked around. It wasn’t hard.”

You didn’t have the heart to turn away such a sweet girl, but as she followed you inside, something about her presence felt suffocating. She hovered too close, her eyes flicking to every detail in your home as if she were memorizing it. You noticed how she made sure to rub her cheek on your neck... was she scenting you?

That night, after she left, you found a strand of her hair on your pillow.

Days turned into weeks, and Yunjin’s behavior grew more intense. She started showing up unannounced more often, always with an excuse—she’d forgotten something at your place, or she just wanted to see you. She knew your schedule better than you did, waiting for you after classes, walking you home, always there, always watching. Her yearning gaze would follow you in a way that made your stomach twist.

When you tried to set boundaries, Yunjin brushed them off with a laugh, acting as if you were joking.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she teased, but her tone was laced with something darker. To make a point, she suddenly bit your wrist, hard enough to leave a mark, giggling at your yelping.

One day, you decided to take a different route home, hoping for a moment of peace. But as you turned the corner, you found her waiting at the end of the street, her smile too perfect, too knowing.

“You didn’t think I’d lose track of you, did you?” she asked, tilting her head. Her voice was light, but her eyes burned with something that made your heart race.

You tried to brush it off, but Yunjin’s presence only became more suffocating. She started leaving notes in your bag, little love letters written in her elegant handwriting.

“You’re mine,” one read.

“We belong together,” said another.

---◇

The final straw came when you woke up one night to find her sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Yunjin?!” you gasped, scrambling back against the headboard.

She tilted her head, in pure puppy fashion, her expression unnerving you. “You left your window unlocked,” she said, as if that explained everything. “I got worried when you didn’t text me back. I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you were okay.”

Her fevour and devotion for you sent a chill down your spine. You tried to steady your voice. “Yunjin, this… this isn’t normal. You can’t just come into my house like this.”

Her smile faltered, and for a moment, something flickered in her eyes—hurt, anger, desperation.

“I’m doing this because I love you,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “Don’t you see? You’re my everything. I can’t… I can’t lose you.”

You didn’t know what to say, your mind racing as you tried to figure out how to get her to leave. But before you could speak, she leaned closer, her hands softly holding your face, her warm hands and heavy breathing soothing your panic slightly.

“You don’t have to be scared,” she whispered. “I’ll always take care of you. Always.”

Her words sounded more like a promise than reassurance, and as she stood to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

The door clicked shut behind her, but her presence lingered—an invisible weight pressing down on you. You stared at the window she’d used to sneak in, your heart pounding as you realized she would never let you go.

when you fall in love ---◇

- despite her overwhelming presence, Yunjin’s softer moments make your heart flutter. the way she looks at you, like you’re her entire world, becomes addictive.

- her obsessive attention to detail feels flattering at times—she remembers everything about you, from your favorite coffee order to the way you like your books organized.

- when she clings to your arm or rests her head on your shoulder, you feel a strange sense of comfort, like you’re her safe place.

- her determination to always take care of you becomes endearing, especially when she shows up with things you didn’t realize you needed, like an umbrella on a rainy day or soup when you’re sick.

- you catch yourself smiling when she texts you goodnight every single night without fail, her messages filled with warmth and affection.

- the intensity in her gaze when she talks to you makes your stomach flip—it’s like she’s silently telling you how much you mean to her.

- over time, her possessiveness starts to feel less threatening and more like she’s terrified of losing you, which makes you want to protect her in return.

- her vulnerability during emotional moments tugs at your heart; the way her voice shakes when she says, “I can’t lose you,” makes you realize how much she needs you.

- the little notes she leaves for you, filled with sweet words and doodles, make your chest feel warm. you keep them tucked away, unable to throw them out.

- one day, when she shyly confesses how deeply she feels for you, her honesty is so raw and sincere that you can’t help but fall for her too. And now you're girlfriends let's gooo🗣‼️

how sex with yunjin is like (non gp version) -◇

- she NEEDS close contact,so she makes sure to have you extremely close when fucking. any position where she doesn't see your face? she's NOT doing it, always whining and grumbling in your ear when she fucks you with her favourite navy blue strap from behind, but you suggested doing it in front of a mirror, and that was the best day of her life. the mascara running down your face, drool running down your chin, and it turns out it's not so bad!!! bc she can lean down and mark your back whenever she wants!! your sessions always end in you flinching in pain when you feel her bite marks, but yunjin won't let you sit in pain for too long!! no no!! she has the BEST aftercare in the world🤞🤞

- praises you ALL the time. she hates degrading you, doesn't like the idea of even disrespecting you, even if you want it😭she definitely says stuff along the lines of:

"C'mon baby, just one more, give me one more doll, i know you can. I know you can do it for me."

"You're so pretty underneath me like this, d'ya know that?"

"Ugh, you feel so fucking good, you're so fucking wet for me, you like that, y/nnie?"

- certified service dom, and ur her lucky pillow princess

- she will scream and throw a tantrum if she doesn't get to taste you on her tongue for at least 2 hours a day. yunjinnie begs all day for you, following you around your house. even at college she would ask to have you. "please, pleaseeee? you're not being a good girlfriend right now."

- when she doesn't get what she wants she wants talk to you at all, until you give it to her. and so you reluctantly do, and that was a mistake. she doesn't let you go until she's positive that you can't walk or talk and your brain scrambled. when there's saliva everywhere, and your clit is sore and an angry shade of red, the 9th orgasm gushing out of your pussy, and your body limp?? she's accomplished her life's purpose.

(gp version) -◇

- desperate as fuck. her breeding kink is absolutely uncontrollable. she would bend you over the kitchen counter, smacking your ass while pulling your panties off (you dont bother wearing clothes around her because shes going to rip them off anyway). she'd push her dick into your pussy, and when she feels you clench around her tip, she already feels like she's in heaven. she wpuld pump her hot, thick cum into you until youre gripping the edge of the counter, panting heavily.

- marking you everywhere. your neck, your waist, your belly, your shoulders, your wrist, your thighs, your pu-

- she lives for the sound you make when you gag on her fat cock... quickly thrusting deep, so that your nose is pressed against her tummy, and her heavy balls slap against your chin as she repeatedly fucks your face without warning

- like the non gp version, she prefers to see your face, and positions like mating press are the best in her opinion!! that's where her cock hits the deepest, and filling your pussy up with her semen is the only thought in her mind rn🤞🤞

[mattscoquette]

𝑨 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. you slowly notice your boyfriend is falling out of love with you

angst !! cursing, mentions of weed, smoking, arguing, glass breaking, kinda toxic!matt, breaking up

2.3k words

are we awake? am i too old to be this stoned?

the small sliver of sunlight that peered through your curtain danced across your face, causing you to stir awake slowly. a hand reached out, only to find the other side of the mattress cold. typical.

it wasn’t long before the strong reek of matt’s weed filled your apartment, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you peered at the clock next to you, the numbers 6:37 a.m. staring back at you.

slowly, you made your way out of bed and out to the balcony, where matt resided, still clad in his pajamas. a rolled joint was held between his pointer and thumb, dark smoke swirling around him.

“are you seriously high already?” you mumbled, sleep still coaxing your voice as you wrapped your arms around your middle as a means to stay warm.

matt simply looked back at you, his usual blue eyes red and bleary. he gave you a small shrug before holding the joint to his lips, inhaling deeply.

“i guess so.”

for goodness sake, i wasn't told you'd be this cold.

it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to question if matt still loved you. you’d been together for a year and a half now, and it felt as though he’d only loved you for the first year.

it started small. little remarks you would tend to just brush off.

“you should wear this, it looks better on you.”

“why are you always in a bad mood whenever i’m around?”

but they never bothered you much. matt loved you. and you loved him. that was the way it always was, and you never seemed to think any different.

and matt was so sweet in the beginning. flowers were delivered to your door every week, along with a handwritten letter from him. your meals were always paid for, and you were almost certain you hadn’t touched a door handle for nearly half of the relationship. now, things couldn’t be more different.

when matt started being mean, you never questioned if he still loved you. he was probably having a bad day, or something heavy was weighing on him he just didn’t feel like talking about. it was never a question if he loved you or not.

but lately, you weren’t so sure anymore. it was rare for matt to be kind. he was also so angry and upset, and you couldn’t just seem to understand why. he acted like you were just an afterthought in his mind, a footnote in the story of his life. like you weren’t his girlfriend, like you weren’t his everything, like he always promised you.

you smashed a glass into pieces

that's around the time i left.

you lost count of how many argument you and matt had this week. there was always something. nothing could ever be okay with you both.

it was beginning to feel like matt wasn’t fighting for you relationship anymore. yet here you were, fighting tooth and nail, just for things to be even a little bit like how they used to be. it was an uphill battle, and you were losing.

you were angrily clearing off the table, not caring if neither you nor matt were done eating dinner. you weren’t even sure what this argument was about. something along the lines of matt bending over backwards for you, when you reciprocate nothing in return. although that couldn’t be further from the truth, you tried to listen. you tried to piece together what exactly it was that you did that made your relationship crumble.

“i just don’t get it y/n,” matt retorted as he stood up abruptly, bringing his dishes to the sink and dropping them in with a loud clank, “why is it that i’m doing everything for you, but the second i need something, it’s a big issue?”

you glared at him from you spot by the table, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. you didn’t want to argue anymore. you just wanted your boyfriend back.

he just scoffed as he turned back around, clearly not impressed with your lack of an answer. matt began to scrub the dishes bitterly, almost as if the plate had done something wrong and he was mad at it, as opposed to you.

“i do so much for you, matt.” you mumbled, keeping your head low as you wiped off the table. no matter how much you two argued, you never wanted him to see you cry. “i feel like sometimes you’re the one who can’t be pleased.”

that set him off.

“are you serious-” he began, throwing the plate down in the sink angrily as he turned around to look at you. the glass shattered, the sound piercing through the kitchen as you two fell silent.

it was an accident, you knew it, but it didn’t stop you from crying more.

you turned to face matt, your eyes red and cheeks blotchy as tears streamed down them. before he could get a word out, you were already announcing that you were going back home.

you said i'm full of diseases

your eyes were full of regret.

it had been a week and a half since matt broke the plate, and things hadn’t gotten any better. if anything, that was the first crack in the glass. matt seemed to be picking an argument all day, looking for anything to make a comment on. no matter what you did, you just couldn’t make him happy.

“can you stop hogging the damn blanket?” matt murmured as he sat next to you on the couch, his arms crossed. he tugged the fabric from your lap to his, shuffling even further away than he was before, his focus returning to the movie playing on the tv.

you looked at his side profile, his demeanor so cold and off putting. where you both used to be cuddled up together under one blanket when watching a movie, now you couldn’t so much as sit too close to him without starting something.

“sorry.” you mumbled faintly. that was starting to become a repeat word in your vocabulary. sorry. you had decided instead of arguing back, you could just be sorry. if matt felt like he was always right, he was sure to love you again the way he used to. how couldn’t he be?

“god, you’re just so annoying sometimes.” he muttered, fixing the blanket once more as his eyes bore holes through you. he watched the way your face fell, a knot twisting in his stomach.

how could he say something so mean to girl he loved so much?

in return, you sighed quietly and shakily, returning your eyes to the tv screen. you’d rather have matt be angry at you everyday than not have him at all.

you used to have a face straight out of a magazine

now you just look like anyone.

for a change, matt suggested you two go out. it was a breath of fresh air for you both. there was almost an unspoken agreement that you two couldn’t be fighting if you were in public. you could each play the part of the happy couple you once were.

you made every effort to look your best. your hair and makeup were done, your outfit perfectly put together after countless hours spent curating it. you took a step back from the mirror, smiling at your reflection. you felt really, really pretty. a small sense of optimism lingered in the air as you made your way down to matt’s car when he said he was at your apartment. he couldn’t possibly ignore you, not when you looked like this.

a small smile played on your glossed lips as you climbed into the car, your floral perfume strong. he offered the faintest of smiles, followed with a small kiss hello. to most girls, they’d be upset if their boyfriend reacted how matt did. they’d want him to compliment them, ruin their makeup. but to you, it was a start. you can’t remember the last time he made you feel how he just did.

the ride to the mall was peaceful. it was filled with small talk, the radio playing softly in the background. the day was just getting started, but you felt hopeful. you felt like today would be a really good day for you and matt, and your relationship was in desperate need of one.

and it was great. it felt almost like what you called “the good times,” the part of your relationship where matt actually felt like your boyfriend. when he actually acted like your boyfriend. he held your hand the entire time you walked through the mall, and carried every single bag for you. at the cash registers, his wallet was out before the total was even displayed on the card reader. the day was almost perfect. almost. the only thing missing was the compliments you craved from matt so badly.

in the good times, it seemed as if every other sentence coming from matt was a compliment. he loved to tell you how much he loved you. at one point, you had even wondered if matt remembered your actual name, because he was always calling you his pretty girl. his.

but today, that seemed to be the only thing lacking. instead, matt’s gaze seemed very preoccupied with the other girls in the mall. his eyes lingered at all of their bodies, the way they would show a little cleavage or expose their midriff. it didn’t take you long to realize the only reason matt was being so kind today was because he could distract himself with other girls who weren’t you.

i just sat in self-pity and cried in the car.

although you and matt had been having problems for as long as you had, you didn’t dare tell anyone. because when you were around friends, you and matt were good at pretending. nobody dared to question your relationship, because there was nothing to question. he seemed to love you the way he always had. it was only behind closed doors when you had problems.

but even though you accepted this was your relationship now, you couldn’t help but remember the good times. it would just hit you out of nowhere, the longing for something that didn’t exist anymore. something that could never be as it was. it was a crushing feeling, really, and the only thing you could do was let it consume you. it would eat at you for days, taking away your appetite and replacing it with a sinking feeling inside of you.

you often found yourself looking back at old pictures and videos, notes from matt and dead flower petals you saved. if you closed your eyes and focused hard enough, sometimes you could still feel the way you used to. you’d be lost in your thoughts, living in a deluded world where you and matt were still happy. one where he had eyes for only you, and made you feel like the most special person in the universe. you could still remember how tight he would hold you every night, how he’d look at you like you hung every star in the sky.

then, the reality would dawn on you that it wasn’t like that anymore. you were mourning a relationship that wasn’t even dead yet.

you played a part, this is how it starts.

as the days, weeks, months passed, you felt more and more detached from your relationship. you were waking up everyday next to someone you couldn’t recognize anymore. the spark you two shared was now put out, embers on the ground dying. he wasn’t the matt you fell in love with anymore.

you had stopped trying. maybe if matt noticed you were slowly fading away, he’d do something. but he didn’t. he never did. the two of you had no energy for anything anymore, your relationship on it’s last limbs.

oh, i just had a change of heart.

matt’s couch was something you’d grown accustom to over the last two years. it was your saving grace when he would push you to the point of no return, when you couldn’t even lay next to him to sleep. as the ceiling stared back at you, you heard small creaks in the floorboard as matt creeped into the living room. he looked a mess, his hair tousled in all different directions, the dark spots under his eyes more prominent than ever.

“can i lay with you?” his voice whispered in the darkness as he stood above you. he clambered in beneath the blankets when you gave a small nod, exhaustion falling over you fast.

he rustled around a bit, finally finding a comfortable position facing you. he studied your face, taking in every detail.

“it’s not working out anymore, is it?” he asked, his voice quiet.

you looked back at him. you watched the way his chest rose and fell, the way his chapped lips parted and breathing hitched.

“it’s not.”

you both remained quiet, as if you were soaking in the last moments of your relationship. the same way you try to remember everything about your hotel room when you’re leaving vacation, committing every last minute thing to memory.

you stared back at matt, waiting for him to speak. he opened his mouth to speak, closing it when no words came out. he tried again.

“are we done then?”

you inhaled shakily, your eyes fluttering shut. you nodded, feeling the weight of the world come crashing down on you. two years of your life, over like that. before you could even think about getting up, matt’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“can…can you just stay with me one more night?” he asked. “i don’t want it to be over just yet.”

you peeled your eyes open, being met with matt’s sad ones. you nodded your head yes, feeling him instantly wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest. just like how he used to. his head rested atop yours, the rhythmic sound of each other’s breathing lulling you both to sleep.

you would both deal with it tomorrow. you would feel the unbearable feeling of heartbreak in the morning. but for now, you could still both be with one another the way you used to. just one last time.

© mattscoquette | taglist

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ i know i was yapping sm ab needing a break but i wrote this in one sitting yesterday…. also a fanfic to the 1975 is sooo tumblr. pls lmk ur thoughts bc this is very different from what id normally write:) and thank u for 5.1k ! i love u all

[wandaslittlebird]

A Room of Your Own

Married!WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After getting kicked out of your college dorm, you find yourself living with two older strangers. It was never meant to be anything more than a temporary arrangement born out of necessity, but as the semester continues, something new starts to grow.

CW: Homophobia, Getting Kicked Out, Slow Burn (No sex or romance in this chapter), Age Gap

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I’m back from the dead, though probably not in the way you wanted or expected. I had to take a (not so) little break from one-shots and smut for the time being for some personal reasons. But I’m still finding ways to write and enjoy myself. Some of you probably have already seen this. It’s been up on AO3 for a while now. But I figured I’d post it here too.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing any sort of slow burn, so we'll see if I can resist having them all fall into bed together in the first few chapters. I also don't know how to write an introductory chapter without making it boring as shit, so I at least made it short to spare you all. I promise it gets better.

Chapter 1 of A Room of Your Own

———————————————————

You sat, knees curled to your chest, on the curb in front of what used to be your dorm. It was late, a little after midnight, and absolutely pouring rain.

Three days. You had been in the dorms for three days and you had already been kicked out. You’d expect some pushback, going to a religious college and being queer, but nothing like this. Nothing like getting kicked out of your dorm in the middle of the night because you were making your roommates uncomfortable. You’d tried so hard to get them to like you. They seemed sweet. Not your type of people, sure, but you thought the three of you could get along just fine.

As it turns out, they were actually so repulsed by your presence they couldn’t even wait until classes started to kick you to the curb. Literally.

“Hey!” Somebody shouted from the doorway, holding a large umbrella. You turned to see her approaching and shrunk back in on yourself. You didn’t think you could handle anymore ridicule that evening.

When you didn’t respond or turn to face her, she sat down next to you, sure to cover you with the umbrella as well. She spoke softer now. “Hey. I’m sorry for what happened back there.”

You still didn’t speak, but you looked at her now, partially soaked from where she was sitting next to you on the wet concrete. “I’m Yelena.” She reached her hand out for you to shake.

You shook her hand. “Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You recognized her from your dorm floor, though you’d only ever seen her in passing.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she smiled softly. “I wish it were under different circumstances.”

You nodded, turning your gaze back to the raining night.

“Do you have anywhere to go? For tonight I mean. I would offer you to stay in my room, but…” she turned back to the door of the building. You both knew you couldn’t go back in there.

You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought where you would stay tonight. You could always stay in your car. It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve slept in the backseat. Still, the sopping wet clothes would surely make for a morning full of rashes and blistered skin.

Yelena sighed, looking at the ground. She was silent for a moment before she came up with an idea. “Let me call my sister. She and her wife have a massive place not so far from here. They’ll have a bedroom or two to spare.”

Before you could form a rebuttal of any sort, Yelena pushed the umbrella into your hands and dashed back inside. You tucked the umbrella between your leg and the crook of your arm, resting your head on your knees.

It wasn’t very long before Yelena was by your side again. “Okay she’s on her way. She’ll be here in about 10 minutes.”

You didn’t look at her, facing intentionally in the other direction. You felt so horrible. You just wanted to curl up and disappear. And now you were going to be picked and taken to the home of some random classmate’s sister? You try to formulate a response, a reason that you will be fine on your own, but there was nothing. It was either this or the back seat of your 1993 Toyota Corolla. Somehow, you bet Yelena wasn’t going to take that as a reasonable explanation as to why she should call off her sister.

“Are you coming with me?” You asked weakly.

She sighed and put her hand on your back. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I will if you really want me to.”

You finally turned to face her. She didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of leaving. She was probably a freshman. It was her first couple days in the dorm too and everything was so new and exciting. The last thing she wanted to do was go back home with her sister.

“No it’s okay,” you responded. The last thing you wanted was to inconvenience someone else tonight, and it’s not like a freshman you hardly knew was going to bring you much solace anyway.

She patted your back. “They’ll take good care of you, I promise.”

Before too much longer, Yelena stood up at the sight of headlights. She waved her arms in an “over here” motion. The car approached Yelena, stopping hard in front of the curb you were sitting on. The tires splashed you in rainwater and mud. Yelena winched, walking back towards you to usher you into the car.

She led you to the passenger door, popping it open and peeking her head in. “This is your girl,” she said, pointing back towards your soaked, mud covered figure. She motioned for you to sit.

You hesitated. The car looked nicer than any you’d ever been in before. The idea of ruining the nice leather seats made you want to shrink further into your ball of shame.

The woman in the driver's seat noticed your hesitation, but didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned with her seat. “Come on in,” she ushered. “Get out of that rain.”

You handed the umbrella back to Yelena, reluctantly taking a seat in the car. Yelena peaked her head back in to say “take care of her,” before closing the door and scurrying back into the dorms.

The woman looked at you, reaching up to pop on the overhead light. The sight of her in the light nearly took your breath away. She looked oddly familiar. Maybe you’d seen her around town. You sharply inhaled as the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen leaned over the console towards you. She frowned. “Oh you poor thing!” She reached out to wipe off your face. You cringed when you saw the mud smear across the sleeve of her jacket. “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

You nodded and she turned the light off before pulling out of the parking lot. You fought the urge to curl up in her passenger seat, fearing further ruining her seats with the dirty bottoms of your shoes. When you didn’t speak, she offered up an introduction of her own. “My name is Natasha. I don’t know what Yelena’s told you, but I’m her sister. My wife and I have a place not so far from here.”

“I’m Y/N” you managed.

“A friend of Yelena’s?” She asked.

You chuckled a little. “I suppose you could say that. We met about 20 minutes ago.”

Natasha chuckled. “Of course. Leave it to Yelena to seek you out after such an injustice.”

You bit the inside of your lip. You wished you had heard the phone conversation so you could gauge just how much she knew.

It was as if Natasha could read your mind when she started next with the details of the phone call. “Yelena told me you got kicked out of the dorm by the other girls. They were uncomfortable because you were gay? I never expected to hear anything like that happening in 2024, but I guess I stand corrected.”

Well, that was one way of telling the story. At least Yelena had left out the peeping Tom allegations that got you chased off the floor by everyone who had to share a bathroom with you. They weren’t true, of course, but the fact that you’d made people so uncomfortable they were willing to name you a pervert without second thought made your skin crawl.

After a short, largely silent car ride, Natasha pulled the car into a garage. You hadn’t gotten a good look at the house, both because of the dark and getting lost in your own thoughts, but even by the state of the garage you could tell it was nice.

Natasha got out of the car, unlocking the door and leading you into the kitchen. You took your shoes off by the door, then decided to take your socks off too to avoid tracking muddy water through the house. The woman took your hand and guided you to the stairwell, then to a bathroom. She turned on the lights and opened up a cabinet, pulling out fresh towels and washcloths.

“I’ll get you some fresh clothes and sheets. The bedroom is through here.” She opened a door that revealed a sizable bedroom connected to the bathroom. You could hardly believe this wasn’t the master suite she’d led you too.

She turned to face you, exhaling as she once again took in your disheveled state. She picked some errant pebbles from your tangled hair and wiped it out of your face. “Now,” she started, “do you need anything else before I let you get cleaned up and off to bed?”

You shook your head. “No. You’ve done enough already. Thank you, Miss Natasha, for letting me stay here. It means a lot. Truly.”

“Of course.” She smiled. You didn’t notice the blush that crept onto her face at the formality. She swiped away the hair that had fallen in front of your eyes again. “We wouldn’t want a sweet girl like you sleeping out in the rain.” She booped the tip of your nose. “Now promise you’ll wake me or Wanda up if you need anything at all. We’re just in the room across the hall. Can’t miss it, it’s the only door on that side.”

You nodded slowly. There was no way in hell you were going to wake her or Wanda, who you assumed was her wife, for any reason. But you nodded anyway.

She smiled and rubbed your chin. “Good girl. Now go get cleaned up and try to get some rest.”

As she set off to her room, you hoped the mud had covered how pink your cheeks had gotten. You headed to the shower, sliding open the glass door and turning on the water. You decided to hop in with your clothes at first, hoping to get enough of the mud off that you could wear them again tomorrow. Then you wrang the clothes out and threw them over the door to dry. You took your time in the shower, letting the hot water warm you up from the cold rain. By the time you were finally clean, you grabbed the fresh towel Natasha had left for you.

Your clothes were, obviously, still soaked save for your underwear. You were thankful for the little time it had taken the thin silky material to dry. You put them back on and wrapped yourself in a towel before entering into the bedroom.

There was a maroon hoodie at the end of the bed. It had been there since Natasha first showed you the room, so it clearly wasn’t laid out for you. However, in lieu of other clothes, you decided the owner probably wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for the night. You slipped the soft fabric over your head. It was much too big for you, going down to almost your mid thighs while the sleeves dangled over your hands. But it was, quite possibly, the softest material that you’d ever felt. It felt simultaneously brand new and freshly washed.

You crawled up into the queen sized bed, slipping under the covers. You held the fabric of the hoodie close to your face. It smelled nothing like the musky bergamot of Natasha, which had been equally as entrancing in its own way. This was distinctly different. It smelled soft and comforting like lying in a meadow on a spring day. The comforting smell and warmth, along with your own exhaustion, quickly had you asleep.

[robo-writing]

robo i know you already wrote something like this (i think lols) but could i request for more of sleepy reader?? like maybe she and logan arent or are established yet and he just hasn’t seen her the whole day or even for a couple of days and he’s kinda worried/suspicious and he just takes matter into his own hands and goes to her room and she’s just like passed out dead asleep and snug as a little bug in a rug because that is so me

Walking to your apartment he can’t help but chastise himself a bit, each step a new critique. Not calling isn’t enough of a reason to show up to someone’s house uninvited, but he can’t help to think it’s suspicious you haven’t said a word to him all day, especially since you text him at least once a day with some silly joke—memes, you called him. Whatever it is, it’s enough to make him get off his ass and go check on you.

You can accuse him of being paranoid, but you can’t accuse him of not caring enough.

The first thing that sticks out is your smell, faint, but still active. At the very least he knows you’re alive, but it still doesn’t explain your radio silence.

His fingers tap against the door of your apartment, and when that doesn’t work he tries again, albeit a bit harder than before. Nothing.

He’s starting to worry now, he’s got quite a few enemies and it’s not unlikely he’s put you in harms way—hell, just knowing him is enough to put a target on your back. It’s something he’s always been afraid of but standing in front of your door like this makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge.

He gives the metal door a once over, decides he can apologize later, then puts his hand on your doorknob.

“Fuck it, I’m comin’ in,” he says to himself, the gold handle snapping like a twig under his strength. From there the door weakily creaks open, revealing your well-used living space. A couple dishes in the sink, remote on the table, and a suspicious human-sized lump under your throw blanket.

The closer he gets the more he can breathe, a sudden weight lifted from him that he didn’t know he was carrying. He can see your chest rising up and down from underneath, but his nerves aren’t truly settled until he sees you lift your head from the blanket, bleary eyed.

“Mmm, Logan…? What are you doing here?” You mumble, sleep laced in your slurred speech. He drops down beside you, on his knees while you look up at him in confusion.

“Just wanted to check on you, thought you were in trouble,” he answers sheepishly, a faint smile on his face. “Got worried when you weren’t answering my calls.”

You nod, eyes closing again. “Got sleepy. What time is it?”

“Uh…” he searches for your clock for a bit, reading out the numbers. “3:30?”

“Oh. Okay.” You reply, and put your head back to the pillow.

Huh?

Maybe he’s just an old man but he’s not used to someone quite literally sleeping the day away. He’s almost tempted to check you for a fever.

“Um, you alright doll?”

“Mhm. Sleepy.”

“Okay…” Logan trails off, watching as you make yourself comfortable on the couch. “Maybe you’d feel better if you slept on your bed?”

“Tired. And lazy.”

“I don’t mind carrying you.”

You peek one eye open, closing it shut before nodding your approval. “Yes please.”

Legs over his arm, he lifts you as if it’s nothing. When you get to the bed he insists on staying, adamant on keeping you safe while you drift off.

And right before sleep takes you he apologizes for your door, whatever that means. The next morning you’re surprised to see a hole where your doorknob used to be.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Screenward Bound

Pairing: Twilight x Reader

Warning(s): Eventual smut and mild yandere behavior

Notes: Written for my 200 Follower Event!

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

You weren't quite sure what compelled you to visit the garage sale on the corner of 4th and Shirestone.

The lot was small and the yellow house inhabiting it was large, leaving very little space for the several tables of stuff in the miniscule front yard, meaning they spilled out onto the bordering sidewalk like an invasion of dusty books and even dustier boxes, which was probably what drew you to the sale in the first place.

"Do you have any Uncle Kracker?" You half-heartedly asked the old lady running the operation, idly thumbing through the CDs.

"Uncle who?" She raised a brow.

"Nevermind," you sighed, giving her a short once over before returning to your unenthusiastic perusal. You lived a few blocks away, tucked in the corner of a nearby cul-de-sac, but living alone was boring and your wallet had been crying to be drained after recovering from your car being in the shop for a few weeks. Besides, it wasn't like you couldn't drop a few dollars to pick up a half-decent CD for the radio, especially since people had a habit of dumping their unwanted shit on the side of the road.

With a huff, you flicked through the last row of CDs, all artists that you were either too old or too young to like. Sure, the Pat Benatar one was calling your name, but you already had a few of her songs on other CDs.

Just as you were about to go home and watch a couple hundred reruns of Family Feud while eating enough ice cream to make your doctor cringe, your eye caught another table, this one filled with an assortment of video games. You weren't the biggest gamer, but you had enough of a collection to put any normal ten-year-old to shame.

"You've got games?" You asked, moving past the one-armed mannequin to assess the selection.

"Do I ever," the old woman shook her head, sending a few snow-swept whisps of hair flying from the confines of her satin headband. "They belonged to my son, but the little rat couldn't keep it that way when he moved out."

You managed a sympathetic chuckle, pulling your coat a bit tighter around yourself. There was a chill in the air, despite it being sunny outside. Your fingers felt a bit numb as you flicked through the cases. Final Fantasy, Digimon, Mario Kart...

You paused as your gaze passed over a very familiar title.

"Woah, Twilight Princess?" You lifted the case, marveling at the find. It was a bit dusty, and the cover art looked like it had seen better, less faded days, but it was nonetheless a great discovery. You had always wanted to play it until school got in the way, but now...

"Oh, yeah," the old woman leaned in a bit too close for comfort, tapping a knobby finger on the plastic. You could smell her flowery perfume and the lingering scent of coffee grounds as she spoke. "This was one of my son's favorites... too bad he could never get it to cooperate."

"How so?" You asked, taking a step to the right to create a bit of distance.

She shrugged. "It worked great at first, but the controls were always a bit glitchy for his tastes. He said it was like something else was trying to take control," her tone turned conspiratorial, faded blue eyes glinting in the sunlight. "but I think he was just making excuses to get a new controller for Christmas."

This time, you laughed loudly. "Yeah, they'll do that," you glanced at the game and back at her. "How much? I've got a ten in my wallet, but I can get more if needed."

The old woman waved a hand, dismissing your words with a smile. "That won't be necessary, I should be paying you for taking this junk off my hands. Take it for free."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she sent you a stern glare and you didn't have the courage to square up with someone who didn't have any personal space awareness and looked like she could break your back over her knee. 'Thank you," you ducked your head respectfully, slipping the game into your bag and beginning the trek home. The sun was beginning to set, and you didn't want to get caught in the dark. You waved, calling over your shoulder: "Have a nice day. Stay warm!"

The woman waved back. "You too, dear! Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

You chuckled, boots crunching on the pavement as you set an easy pace, one hand slipping into your bag to feel over the faded plastic surface of your new game.

If there was any truth to the old lady's words about the game being glitchy, it didn't show.

After booting your ancient Wii-U up, you plugged the game in without hesitation, grinning when it started up with nary a twitch. The title screen looked exactly as it should have, a very familiar song emanating from your dusty speakers. It was perfect, and you almost felt bad taking it for free.

Until you tried to select 'new game' and the screen stalled, fizzling back to the menu as if you hadn't done anything at all. "What the hell?" you muttered, attempting the action once more, only to be booted back to the title screen for the second time. "Oh my god, are you serious?"

You weren't really mad, because your expectations hadn't been that high, but you hadn't expected problems before you even began playing. The 'start' button glimmered promisingly, and you reluctantly selected it.

The screen flashed, and the game started. You gaped, nearly dropping the controller in surprise. "Oh, hell yeah," you grinned, mood lifting slightly at the progress. You had already seen several gameplays, so starting later didn't bother you as much as it should have. "Now we're talking."

Link was distinctly aware of the moment his world inexplicably shifted, falling into the soft hands of another. It was as if they were meant to hold his life in their palms, smooth fingertips caressing the edges of his pixelated consciousness, shrouded by colors and numbers and a thin sheen of fantastical insanity.

There was a voice, lighter than the one of his previous guide: the gamer without sense. Link was forgiving, it was practically in his nature, but he could only take so many instances of the kind of crass, harsh language that man had employed, especially when he addressed the dreaded "chat"--whatever evil that was.

"Let's get classic," the voice spoke, tone heavy with excitement, and the world reformed before his very eyes, swirling with the familiar colors and textures that he remembered, though they seemed... brighter, somehow. It was a new start, Link realized. A new play at the game. A new life to destroy. To shape.

Ordon Spring was exactly as he remembered; a clear, rippling pool, fed by the gentle waterfall in the back of the spring, flanked by thick, verdant brush and preceded by a wonderful, sandy bank. Home, he thought.

"I hope the old lady wasn't right," said the voice, sounding a bit mournful as it caressed the tip of his pointed ear. "I'd hate to have to get rid of you... I've been looking for you for ages."

Link felt his body stiffen, the belts crisscrossing his chest feeling more suffocating that normal. You must have heard about his 'resistance' towards the previous owner, who quite deserved it after attempting to make him toss the village dogs off of various high places and herd the children into frankly dangerous areas. Hylia, he hoped you weren't like that. He didn't think he could handle that again.

"Alright, let's go save a princess," your cheer hung heavy in his mind, and Link allowed himself a small, pixelated smile.

He could work with this.

Dear lord I'm so glad this is finally out! It fought me tooth and nail, but I hope it's still up to standard <33

[jsooly]

taken in by the sullys (3) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, fifteen years fly by and your family just keeps growing as you fight the stigma of being the clan leaders' human child... aka moments between you and your infant/toddler siblings

(1) / (2)

+ takes place just before atwow! this is a much longer chapter T-T

neteyam

moments before he was to connect with eywa, you sat quietly next to him as jake and neytiri bustled around to prepare for the ceremony

you leaned over the side of his cradle, poking his blue skin. he squirmed before focusing his eyes on you. you could tell he was intrigued — you were different than all the faces he'd seen today.

you lowered your voice, whispering to conceal your conversation from jake and neytiri.

"hey." you nodded to him. "i'm y/n. i'm your big sister. well, not real big sister, but still." you shrugged.

you stepped onto the side of the wooden frame, getting some height over where he lay. "you're pretty big for a baby, you know. you're as big as me already. but that doesn't mean you don't have to listen to me, you know." you wagged a finger in his face.

he tilted his head, and you weren't sure if he was getting any of what you were saying. you continued anyway.

"mom says i'm better than the other na'vi kids my age. i can already hunt and fight. she says i have an unnatural gift." you whispered.

"but..." you sighed, stroking his head softly. "i guess i can teach you, too. and it's okay if you suck. i'll be there to protect you."

neytiri and jake exchanged endeared looks, their backs turned to you and the newborn to give you the privacy you thought you had.

if there was one thing you had to let go of quickly, it was your pride

the clan practically worshipped little neteyam — firstborn son of the fierce neytiri and legendary jake sully? they celebrated for weeks

though young, you were still aware you were different, that you didn't exactly belong among the na'vi... but you didn't mind the dirty looks if it meant staying around your family

plus a new baby brother was more than enough joy to offset the feelings of exclusion

you were fluent in na'vi long before neteyam came along, and you took charge teaching him to speak, walk, even string an bow

perhaps you took charge a little too well

"y/n." jake warned. "put him down."

your brother was only a few months old, yet you were manhandling him as if he'd grown enough to withstand the rough grabbing and pulling.

you were surprisingly strong for a human kid your age (you can thank neytiri for that), allowing you to hold neteyam in your arm with ease.

"no." you said simply.

jake gave you a look. of course you had to enter a rebellious phase right when neteyam was very fragile.

"y/n."

you groaned. "what?"

"don't make me get your mother."

"i'm teaching him."

"he doesn't need to be taught right now, sweetheart." jake said gently, approaching you with caution and attempting to take neteyam off your hands.

"he's just lying around all day!" you rebutted, swerving away from him. the flush of speed made neteyam chirp softly in excitement as he gazed up at you. you smiled at pat his head briskly. "might as well fill the time up with something." you mumbled as you stroked his bald head.

"that's a good idea, but how about something less dangerous?" jake grinned widely, trying to sell his point. he held up a ball and some toy blocks. "huh? come on, what d'you say?"

you gave him an unimpressed look, not bothering to answer him as you swiftly turned around and exited the tent. ignoring the sharp noise of protest from jake behind you, you smiled proudly at your brother and nuzzled into his head.

"you're gonna be a great olo'eyktan one day, brother." you assured him. "but first, we gotta get away from dad and teach you how to walk n' stuff."

he babbled in agreement.

in the year when it was just you and neteyam, you bonded inseparably

he was always behind you, like a puppy chasing a little duck around

there was a time when other clan members were a bit concerned that he was spending more time with you than other na'vi children

"neytiri, listen to reason." one omaticaya woman told her.

neytiri was sharpening weapons with some of the other women, all sitting in a circle in a time where they were supposed to be exchanging stories and dreaming about the future. but some chose to gossip and condemn.

"i am listening, though i would not call it reason." neytiri shot back.

"your son is descended from great lineage. consider having him romp around with his own kind instead of an unwanted child."

neytiri hissed, slamming her arrows down. the other women ducked their heads to avoid her anger. "that child is very much wanted. in a million years, i would not believe i would grow so close to a human child, but it has happened. i chose to stop lying to myself long ago."

the woman scoffed, looking around the circle incredulously. "are you hearing what you are saying? we fought hard to eradicate the sky people from our land and you have one growing among us."

neytiri glared. "once, the great mother brought a sky person into our lives, and look at the good that's come of it. eywa watches over this child in the same way. she is special."

despite neytiri's argument, the other women continued to nudge their kids into neteyam's daily routine

for a week, you barely saw him

you stayed in the hut, like usual, watching them play in the grass outside

you rarely emerged from the safety of your home in fear of the judgmental looks you'd receive—it was fine, until you had a brother to miss.

"why don't you go out there?" jake crouched beside you. "m'sure neteyam would appreciate a familiar face."

you gave him a weird look that clearly said no.

he sighed and brought your head into his side, hugging you tightly. in these moments, he didn't know what to say to you. he had no qualifications for being a father, for shaping a young one's whole life, and it was becoming all the more real to him in this instance.

he was about to speak up when you mumbled, "i know they don't want me here."

jake cursed internally. "they... they just misplace their hatred and anger, baby. that kinda stuff is for adults only. they should know better than to denounce a perfect little angel like you." he smiled, pinching your cheek gently.

silence filled the room once more.

you looked up at him, fighting with feelings of unease you couldn't name. "... you want me here, right?"

jake's heart split in two. he cupped your face firmly, holding your gaze. "y/n. 'course i want you here, baby. you're my first little girl, and i would never give you up, not for anyone. i don't care if our life is a little different because you're around. besides, you've more than proven your ability to hold your own."

his declaration warmed your heart until you felt like there was a furnace of love burning inside you.

"i was once human too, you know. you remember, don't you?" he paused as you nodded. "see? for you and us, it's not about being human or na'vi. it's about being our little girl and us being your parents. that's the type of thing where it doesn't matter what you are. you could be... i dunno."

"a worm?"

he chuckled. "yeah. you could be a worm and i'd still love you to death."

a thud caught both of your attention. neteyam grunted as he propped himself up again.

"huh?" you glanced out the window. the other na'vi kids were still out there. you hopped off the windowsill and rushed to his side, helping him stand. "what are you doing back here? your friends are still outside."

he just made a face of distaste, shaking his head.

"looks like he prefers big sis instead." jake grinned, squeezing your shoulders as he passed by. "you two be safe—y/n, no funny business. and don't think about starting a fire."

he left you two playing as he went to have a word with some clan members.

kiri

since both of you were adopted, you related to kiri in a way. you were determined to make sure she didn't feel different, especially in light of her affinity for eywa and natural things

when you and the others would go out to play, kiri would run off

you'd find her lying on the ground, embracing the earth

"kiri!" you gasp, falling to your knees beside her. you carried lo'ak on your back as neteyam toddled beside you. "you can't just run off like that on your own!"

she sat up in a daze, blinking slowly. the grass around her fell back into a lifeless state but the seeds of eywa still hung around. you gently pushed one from ticking your face.

she looked a bit sheepish, averting her eyes as she stood up to follow you. you frowned and sighed, helping lo'ak off your back. you took her hand and flopped back onto the ground.

"you know what... a couple more minutes couldn't hurt." you groaned as you stretched. you tucked your arms under your head, getting comfortable. kiri smiled and reclined beside you.

in that moment, it was as if all the energy in space aligned and you were plucked from your physical form and woven into the stream and cycle of all the energy and consciousness of pandora.

early on, you knew kiri wasn't a fighter

as in, not a let's ride into battle on the back of an ikran guns blazing type of fighter

you started teaching her about the different herbs, plants, and fruits around pandora

she sucked in everything you taught her like a sponge and soon enough it got to a point where you two were learning together

you entered the tent with a thick book clutched tightly against your chest. "kiri!" you whispered urgently.

she perked up, dashing across the room.

you let the book drop onto the ground with an oof, flipping it open. "look, kiri, it's your ma's journal!" you grinned, showing her dr. augustine's signature. you figured you'd leave out the part how you swiped it from norm and max's lab.

her face brightened at the familiar name, staring at the journal in wonder. she flipped through it, but couldn't recognize any of the text. it was all written in english, with bits of na'vi scattered here and there.

"read to me?" she asked, nudging the journal to you. she snuggled into your side as you read her birth mother's findings and conclusions to her.

jake and neytiri found you two sleeping soundly against each other.

lo'ak

lo'ak was an instigator from day one

literally came out the womb quarrelling with everyone

mo'at let a lengthy exhale escape her lungs. neytiri had just given life to her second son, lo'ak, and the boy just would not stop crying. despite all her years as a mother and tsahik, nothing she did soothed her youngest grandson.

"is he hungry?" jake offered, earning dark glares from both his wife and mother in law.

"jake."

"don't you think we tried that?"

he shrunk away, holding neteyam in his arms. he leaned against the wall beside you, giving you a shrug that said hey, i tried.

you pursed your lips, a paradoxical mix of concern and annoyance bubbling up inside of you at lo'ak's wailing. you stood, ducking under mo'at's arm and climbed onto the side of neytiri's bed. she was still talking to mo'at while rocking lo'ak in her arms.

you studied him as he cried, your patience declining by the second. with a sharp but gentle tug to his neural braid, you directed his attention to you. "what are you so upset about, lo'ak? you literally just got here." you whispered urgently.

almost surprised, his cries died down to hiccups and whimpers. you sat back as the adults in the room peered over the newborn.

"ahhh, there he is. poor baby, it's alright." mo'at smiled, stroking lo'ak's head gently. neytiri cooed softly, kissing his bald head repeatedly.

lo'ak found you very cute, though, and was extra gentle when playing with you

you were 11, and neteyam just turned 7, and both kiri and lo'ak were 6 (kiri just a couple months older than lo'ak)

so you had a whole litter of hyperactive kids

you were an overworked big sister lol

and lo'ak was a middle child through and through — with neteyam being the eldest and kiri being a special case, lo'ak didn't get a lot of chances to stand out

thus starting a rebellious streak

but he always got a loooot of love and attention from you

"these are the ones you want, lo'ak?" you hummed. you swirled the bowl around, watching the beads roll at the bottom. "i like the blue."

he fell into your lap with a grumble, his back to you. you just snickered. "what'd you get grounded for this time?"

he scoffed and crossed his arms. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay." you pat his shoulder before taking out his old braids.

a beat passed.

"all i did was follow neteyam outside. so what if i tried to use his bow?" he complained.

you smiled as he ranted—it was like clockwork.

"it's not like he tried to stop me, either. i didn't even come that close to hurting anything. my aim was off." he complained. "besides, weren't you doing stuff like that when you were younger than i am?"

"yeah," you answered, massaging his scalp. "but i actually sat through all my lessons."

he scoffed, stewing in silence.

you softened. "sorry. don't want a lecture, huh?" you continued to do his hair, and slipping in the beads he wanted.

"next time, you and i should go together." he muttered. "i'm done hanging around little mr. perfect."

"bold words from the kid who looks up to little mr. perfect." you gave him a knowing look and he huffed, avoiding your gaze.

you pat his head and made little jazz hands. "tadaaa. all done!"

he didn't move from your lap.

"lo'ak, i'm done—"

"i know." he muttered softly. you understood what he needed. you laughed and hugged him tightly. he wasn't so little anymore—none of them were. your laughter was infectious and he started to smile, too.

"house arrest isn't that bad. you can hang out with me while the others gotta train with mom and dad." you said, self-satisfied.

he smiled, rolling his eyes. "i guess."

you stood, rifling through your trunk of stuff. "maybe bow and arrows aren't your thing. wanna try a gun instead?" you held one up.

lo'ak's ears stood up, his eyes wide. "y/n!" he exclaimed, looking around as he lowered his voice. "how do you even have that?!"

"dad taught me." you grinned, swiftly removing the bullets. can't be too safe. "just don't tell anyone, okay?"

he matched your grin, nodding fervently. he ran to your side and eagerly watched your demonstrations.

tuk

for 7 years, it was just you, neteyam, kiri, and lo'ak. then all of a sudden, neytiri and jake announced they had another on the way

everyone was excited of course, and the debate on whether it was going to be a boy or girl was lively

you, personally, hoped for a baby sister

you had two baby brothers already! and they were handfuls.

when tuk finally came, lo'ak and kiri were 7, neteyam was 8, and you were 12

she learned to walk and speak faster to keep up with everyone

this set the precedent for how she hangs out with each other too

"tuk." lo'ak groaned, stopping to wait for the youngest sully. "you were the one who said you could keep up."

"i can!" she whined, clumsily hopping across the small gap between branches.

lo'ak rolled his eyes, walking off to join neteyam in the front. kiri was off... somewhere, connecting with the energy of everything probably.

you shook your head at your brother's behavior. you offered your hand to tuk, pulling her up onto the branch.

"they're so mean to me," she fussed. "they never wait for me."

"i know, tuk. give yourself a year or two and you'll be as fast as them in no time."

she grumbled, strolling alongside you. "you're smaller than i am. how do you keep up with them?"

you blew a raspberry. "lots of practice."

she started skipping, the branch teetering under her steps. "i just wanna hang out with them."

"they don't do anything cool anyway," you whisper to her conspiratorially. "it's all about shooting arrows and training these days. come on," you held out your hand. "i got something better for us."

she beamed and slotted her hand in yours. you both ran off together, all giggles and whoops of excitement.

you got to the end of the path, leaping off the branch and into the waterhole below.

she screamed, coming to a halt at the edge of the branch. "it's too high!"

you surfaced, wading onto shore. "don't worry, tuk, it's deep enough to break your fall!"

"i'll miss the water!"

"trust me!" you yell up to her. she made a brief sound of protest before stepping back. screwing her eyes shut, she ran with all her might and jumped off. she screamed all the way down.

you laughed at her, blocking your face from the splash. she surfaced with a gasp, laughing brightly.

"i did it!"

the early years were the easiest. but once the sky people returned, everything was different.

!! from now on, i'm gonna make alternating parts—one storyline following the events of atwow and the other just a compilation of fluff/comfort scenarios. for example, the next part is gonna be plot based and then the following part is just gonna be silly goofy moments. and it'd keep alternating til the atwow plot is done !!

thanks for reading!!

taglist : @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce (for some reason you couldn't be tagged, i'm sorry!!)

© jsooly ‘25

[tpwk-formula1]

heyy, may i have a gluten-free pizza with red sauce (teammates maybe..?) (rivals since the lower categories, since childhood, mainly because the reader is a woman and would win from liam)

Served by liam lawson

For toppings i'll have: tomatoes, buffalo chicken, gorgonzola and parmesan cheese, meatball, pulled pork, anchovies, sweet onions buratta, fontina, kielbasa and turkey meatballs

For drinking i'll have: coke, sprite, dr pepper, pepsi(r!receiving), diet pepsi, white claw, truly, vodka redbull, and mojitoooo (liam doesn't know) (its female!reader by the way)

Yes for dessert!!

I know it's a lot, so you can use just a few of then, i sent several just so you could choose whatever you'd like!!

Feel free to decline if you do not like what I have suggested!

(Sorry if I wrote something wrong, English is not my first language!)

-🐝

Liam Lawson x Fem!reader

AN: I definitely went a little off script and I also had to take a few of the prompts out otherwise the entire dialogue would be the prompts or it would be VERY long... I did my best to involved as many of the kinks as I could and I kept the general Virgin! reader thoughts!

I in good faith could not have Liam roughly fucking a girl who is a virgin who is clearly not enjoying herself sobbing, so I did kind of change that part!

TW: protected sex, rough, toys, multiple orgasms, slight spanking, rivals

WC: 2.2K

gluten free rivals red sauce rough sex tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" buffalo chicken "Such a fucking crybaby, just fucking take it all" gorgonzola "Are you always this fucking loud?" parmesan "Awe... did that hurt? Tuff luck I'm gonna do it again" meatball "Why do you always have to complain?" pulled pork "God, I love when I fuck the attitude out of you" anchovies "How are you already drenched" sweet onions "Are you done complaining?" buratta "How many was that? three... I think you can give me another" fontina "wipe that fucking smirk off your face" kielbasa "A preschooler is better behaved than you are" turkey meatballs “Stop crying, I’m far from done” coke spanking sprite size kink dr pepper dirty talk pepsi oral kink diet pepsi biting white claw crying truly belly bulge vodka red bull squirting mojito loss of virginity dessert yes served by Liam Lawson

Y/N POV

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" I hear Liam ask as I'm walking out of my first official Redbull meeting. After Max announced he was expecting his first child Christian Horner called me up and we started talking about the possibility of me joining the team sooner than planned.

"Lawson, what the fuck are you complaing about now?" I sign turning my full attention to the blond man in front of me.

"Are you kidding me? You're my new fucking teammate and I find out with the rest of the world? Why didn't you tell me?" He asks making me laugh slightly.

"Lawson, I've been driving with RB for the past two years, I feel like you could have used your brain to realize I was probably gonna be the replacement," I say with an eye roll.

"God, you always have the worst fucking attitude," Liam says with an eye roll making me shake my head.

"Are you done complaining? Cause last I checked I have never and will never owe you jack shit. Next time redirect your pissy attitude to someone who gives a fuck." I say with a finale tone before walking towards my car.

It's only been a few days when I hear a knock at my hotel door. The whole Red Bull team was staying near the factory due to the season being so close and needing to make sure we where all accessable at any moment.

When I open the door I see the last person I'm expecting to see.

"What do you need Lawson?" I question while keeping the door mostly closed.

"You haven't been answering the group chat so Christian wanted me to check in on you and make sure you settled in okay," Liam tells me with a straight voice.

"Well, you see me. I'm clearly fine," I saw while trying to close the door but Liam being the pest that he is pushes it open.

Given I was staying in a standard hotel room not feeling the need to have some massive penthouse for a hotel room I know it takes Liam little to no time to see the vibrator sitting on my bed.

"Oh! This is what you've been doing. I'll be sure to report back to Christian," Liam says laughing with a smirk while eyeing the pink vibrator.

"Liam, please," I say why trying to push the door closed. While I may be stronger than the average 5'9 man Liam being an athlete on the same workout plan as me was no match. Liam happily invites himself into my room making his way towards my bed with a smirk plastered on his face.

I just groan and close the door before anyone who could be in the hallway can see Red Bulls newest drivers fights.

"Liam, wipe that fucking smirk off your face before I slap you," I say calmly but with a bitter undertone. I watch Liam turn slowly towards me before walking towards me. Like a scene out of any movie I start backing up until my back hits the door.

"Liam, this is by far one of the most embassiring moments of my life, I would like for it to end sooner rather than later," I say weakly.

"Oh come on sweetheart, if you need to cum so bad let me help you," Liam says with a smirk making my face completely fall.

"Wh-what?" I ask in a soft stutter.

"Oh, please. Don't act like you've never thought about this. How good all our tension could be between the sheets," Liam whispers softly into the shell of my ear making my breath hitch slightly.

"Liam, this is so weird," I say in a matching whisper before laughing softly at the whole situation. I notice sometime in my soft laughing fit my hands landed on Liam's sides and my fingers where softly pressing into the fabric of his shirt.

"Sorry," I say softly pulling hands away which only has Liam grabbing both of my wrists and pinning them against the door.

"Tell me to stop," Liam says with his mouth hovering over mine. I just stare up into his eyes before letting them drop to his lips. He's impossible close and while I thought I hated him, I don't think I've ever been this turned on in my entire life.

"Goddamn it Y/N tell me to fucking stop!" Liam says this time in a bit of a louder and firmer voice making me clench my thighs a bit tighter.

"No," I reply softly and not a second later Liam's lips were on mine in a bruising force.

"Fuck," I whimper out when Liam pulls away to catch our breathes.

"Come on," Liam says roughly pulling my body towards him and dragging me towards the bed.

"I bet I can make you cum better than this stupid thing," Liam says with a scoff falling from his lips.

Liam has me pushed onto the bed spreading my legs where he can finally see this whole time I was just in a large shirt clearly having been thrown on in a hurry to try and cover what I had previously been doing.

I can feel Liam's eyes racking my body and while normally it was make me uncomfortable being seen in such a compromising position under Liam's gaxe I can't help but feel slightly giddy.

"But first, I'm gonna remind you what cumming from this feels like," Liam says flipping the vibrator on and wasting no time in placing it on my already throbbing clit.

"Oh fuck," I whimper throwing my head back and arching slightly. I don't think my vibrator has ever felt this good and I know he's still only on the first speed setting.

Liam hits the + bottom a few times turning the speed up making me cry out even louder.

"Fuck! Liam slow it down!" I cry feeling my orgasm building up at an embarrassingly fast pace.

"Are you always this fucking loud?" Liam asks with venom laced in his voice only making me whimper loudly.

Liam could tell I was close based on how loud I was getting which had him turning up the speed to full Max throwing me over the edge within moments.

"Shit! Fuck, Liam!" I cry out while continuing to feel wave after wave of my orgasm.

Liam wastes no time pulling the vibe off my clit, turning it off and throwing it somewhere in the room. Without giving me a second to come down from my previous orgasm he's attached his mouth to my clit while slipping a finger into my pussy.

"Fuck," I moan letting my eyes grow wide feeling myself be filled by just about anything for the first time. Liam picked up on my change and quickly pulled his mouth and fingers away from my soaked pussy.

"What? What happened? Are you okay?" Liam asks quickly searching my eyes for answers. I can feel my cheeks heat realize that I was going to have to be honest.

"I-uh shit, okay I've never done anything like this," I say softly hoping Liam picks up what I was putting down.

"Y/N what? You mean to tell me you've never been touched by a man?" Liam asks looking at me with a raised brow but I can still see a faint smirk playing on his lips. I shake my head too embarrassed to speak.

"I wish you would have said something, I would have came with a bit of a different approach," Liam admits clearly slightly embarrassed with himself.

"No! I'm a big girl, I would have told you no if I wanted you to stop, I liked it, and I liked when you started fingering me, it was just a new sensation," I sit up slightly trying to reassure him.

"Fuck, you're something else," Liam says slightly with a small laugh falling from his lips. I bring my hands up to his face pulling him in for another kiss.

"Don't change whatever plan you had for me," I mumble against his lips making a small chuckle leave his lips.

"I don't plan on it," Liam says while flipping me over by my hips and pulling me so I'm on all fours.

When I feel the slap land on my ass I can't help the loud whimper I let out.

"Ow! Liam!" I cry out only making him spank my ass again.

"That hurts Lawson," I say while trying to wiggle my hips away making him pull me back exactly where he wants me.

"Awe, did that hurts? Tuff cause I'm gonna do it again," Liam says before landing another slap on my ass.

I brace myself for another slap but I'm not prepared for him slipping his fingers into my drenched pussy making me whimper at the feeling once again.

When he finds my G-spot I instantly see stars making me grip the comforter tighter between my fingers.

"Fuck Liam," I moan feeling my tears start to streak down my face from the overwhelming feeling.

"I'm close," I moan out weakly.

"I can tell, cum for me," Liam says fingering me harder making me instantly let go and start squirting all over the bed.

"Oh fuck," I moan loudly while Liam continues to finger me through my orgasm.

"Holy shit, so fucking hot," Liam groans while I feel him stripping the rest of his clothes before he's flipping me back to my back so I'm facing him.

When I notice his pale chest I can't help but let my eyes fall down to his already hard and leaking cock.

"Fuck, I take it back, please go slow," I tell Liam when I notice his size is massive and far thicker than I ever thought was possible.

"I was planning on it," Liam says with a small chuckle.

"Do you have any protection?" I ask softly making Liam laugh before climbing off the bed to find his pants.

"I almost am always carrying one," Liam admits with his cheeks reddening in a blush.

"Slutty," I tease with a small lip falling from my lips.

Once the condom was rolled on Liam climbed back into bed and leans down pulling me in for another kiss.

While we are making out I barely notice Liam's tip teasing my clit but the second he starts pushing into me the grip I had on his shoulders only tightens while I whine into his mouth.

"God damn it! You're so fucking tight," Liam grunts as he slowly pushes into my pussy making me try to relax as much as possible.

Once he has fully filled my pussy he sits back slightly letting me adjust to his size.

"Move, please," I whimper slightly making Liam pulls back his hips just a little before slowly pushing back into me. He continued to slowly fucking my pussy allowing me to fully adjust to his thick size.

"Fuck, faster," I moan when the slight pain had turned fully into pleasure.

Liam starts fucking me at a bit of a faster pace making me arch my back and moan loudly feeling the most amount of pleasure I've ever had.

"Fuck so good," I moan out feeling the tears start once again making Liam look down and smirk at me.

"Fucking you so good you're crying," Liam says with a smirk speeding his thrusts up more making me see stars from how good he was fucking me.

"Fuck, harder," I moan letting my nails dig into the skin of his back leaving scratches behind.

Liam's thrusts pick up in pace and become harder making me feel my orgasm start to build once again.

"I'm gonna cum," I cry out once again.

"Cum for me, I'm fucking close," Liam groans leaning down and pulling in for another kiss and while he pulls away he slightly bites my lip, making me moan at the feeling.

I start cumming for a third time tonight triggering Liam to start cumming and filling up the cum.

"Fuck," Liam grunts as he sends one final thrust deep into my pussy.

Once we've both come down from our highs he softly slips out of my pussy before climbing out of bed. When he heads into the connected bathroom making me sit up slightly feeling the soreness already.

When I successfully make it into the bathroom I find Liam wetting a warm washcloth.

"Y/N what are you doing? I was coming back for you," Liam tells me with a soft smile while he approaches me quickly lifting me in his arms before he sets me down on the counter.

"You did good," Liam tells me while he softly starts wiping my body with the rag while he plants soft kisses on my shoulders.

"You were mid," I tease making Liam look up at me with a smirk.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," I saying rolling my eyes while taking a teasing swat at his cheek barely even grazing his skin before I grip his chin between my fingers and pull him in for another kiss.

"I still hate you," I say between kisses.

"You don't," Likam replies back with a small laugh.

Liam pulls me into his arms and carries me back in bed. Before he lays me on the bed he notices the soaked sheets.

"We're staying in my room," Liam whispers against my lips before helping me get dressed and helping me walk across the hall given my Shakey legs.

"Round 2?" I tease making Liam laugh and shake his head... We did end up having round 2.

[kathlare]

tension on the field

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In a charity football match at Wembley, Lando faces unexpected tension when he encounters Rodrigo, Amelie's ex.

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

June 2nd, 2024 - London, United Kingdom

The warm June sun was casting a golden glow over Wembley Stadium as Lando arrived at the PlayStation Cup match. A private event that brought together influencers, athletes, and celebrities for a charity football game, it was the perfect blend of competition and fun. Lando had always enjoyed football—it was one of the few sports he played just for the love of it, rather than the pressure to perform. Today, though, he wasn’t just here to show off his skills. He wanted to represent himself well, to keep proving that he was more than just the boy who drove fast cars.

The stadium echoed with the sound of players chatting and laughing as Lando stepped onto the pristine pitch. It felt surreal to be at Wembley, even without the roaring crowd. He adjusted the white captain's armband PlayStation had handed him and scanned the field. A mix of famous faces mingled, some already warming up with the ball. He spotted a few people he recognized—streamers he’d gamed with, actors he admired, even some fellow athletes.

But his casual smile faltered when his eyes landed on Rodrigo Riquelme.

Rodrigo was standing near the center circle, juggling a football with effortless precision. His sharp features were illuminated by the sunlight, his confidence evident in the way he moved. Lando’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as recognition hit him. Rodrigo wasn’t just another footballer—he was him. Amelie’s ex.

Lando hadn’t known Rodrigo would be here. Nobody had mentioned it when he’d agreed to come. The irritation bubbled beneath the surface as he watched Rodrigo glance up and meet his gaze. The footballer’s smirk was immediate, like he knew exactly what Lando was thinking.

Forcing himself to stay calm, Lando gave a small nod in acknowledgment before looking away. He wasn’t going to let Rodrigo get under his skin. Not here. Not now.

As the event organizer called everyone together to go over the match rules, Lando found himself grouped with a mix of players. Rodrigo, of course, ended up on the opposing team. Lando could feel his stare from across the field, a constant, heavy presence. He tried to focus on the game instead.

But Rodrigo made it impossible.

From the very first whistle, it was clear Rodrigo was out to make a point. His tackles were just a little too hard, his comments just a little too sharp. When Rodrigo blocked one of Lando’s shots, he turned with a smug grin.

—Better luck next time, mate.—

Lando clenched his jaw but didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth it. Not yet. Instead, he focused on getting back into the game, his competitive side kicking in. If Rodrigo wanted to play dirty, fine. Lando would let his skills do the talking.

The match progressed with tension simmering between them. Lando managed to score a clean goal midway through, his teammates cheering as he jogged back to his position. Rodrigo, however, couldn’t resist a dig.

—Impressive. Guess you can aim when it’s not a steering wheel.—

Lando stopped in his tracks, turning to face Rodrigo. His voice was calm, but his eyes were cold.

—Funny. I could say the same about you, considering you couldn’t hold onto the real prize.—

Rodrigo’s smirk faltered for a split second, but he recovered quickly, stepping closer to Lando.

—And what would you know about it? You’ve been playing house for, what, six months? Amelie doesn’t belong with you. She deserves someone who understands her world, someone who can actually be there for her.—

Lando’s chest tightened, anger flaring. He took a step closer too, lowering his voice so only Rodrigo could hear.

—You can say whatever you want, mate, but at the end of the day, I’m still the name she moans every night.—

The words hit their mark. Rodrigo’s face darkened, his hands balling into fists.

—You little shit—

Rodrigo lunged, but one of the event organizers quickly stepped in, grabbing his arm before he could throw a punch.

—Hey! Enough! This is supposed to be for charity, not a bloody boxing match.—

Rodrigo yanked his arm free but didn’t make another move. His glare could have set Lando on fire.

Lando, on the other hand, stood his ground, his expression cool and defiant.

—You can try to intimidate me all you want, Rodrigo, but it’s not going to change anything. She’s with me. And I’m not going anywhere.—

Rodrigo muttered something under his breath but didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and walked away, leaving Lando standing in the middle of the field, his heart pounding in his chest.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His mind was still racing with the adrenaline from the confrontation with Rodrigo. It wasn’t just the words that stung, it was the idea that someone—someone who had been with Amelie—thought they had the right to say anything about their relationship. About her. He hated that Rodrigo thought he could just walk back into her life, that he could tear her away from him after everything they had been through.

As the match resumed, Lando did his best to focus on the game, but his mind kept drifting back to the argument. Rodrigo’s words echoed in his head, fueling the fire in his gut. But he couldn’t let it distract him. Not when there was still a game to win.

After another thirty minutes, the match finally ended, with Lando’s team emerging victorious. It wasn’t just the win that made him feel good, though; it was the way he played. He could hold his head high, knowing he’d shown his skill and focus, no matter how much Rodrigo had tried to get in his head.

But when the match ended, Lando’s focus shifted back to the tension that still lingered in the air. Rodrigo hadn’t made another move after their confrontation, but Lando could feel his eyes on him from across the field. The tension was palpable, and Lando wasn’t sure what was worse: the thought of having to keep his cool around Rodrigo or the fact that he still felt like he hadn’t finished what they’d started.

As the event came to a close, the heat of the day still lingering in the air, Lando tried to shake off the lingering tension that had consumed his thoughts ever since the confrontation with Rodrigo. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of the argument gnawing at him, even though they’d managed to keep it from escalating any further. The idea that someone like Rodrigo could just show up and start throwing accusations about his relationship with Amelie was maddening. The nerve of him.

He was walking towards the locker room when he saw Rodrigo again, standing alone by the sidelines, glaring in his direction. The dark-haired footballer’s expression was a mix of frustration and barely contained fury, still seething from the exchange earlier. His jaw clenched with every glance he stole towards Lando, but this time, Lando didn’t flinch. He was tired of this game, of playing nice. If Rodrigo wanted to keep throwing punches—whether physical or verbal—he was more than ready.

Taking a deep breath, Lando closed the distance, his steps purposeful.

—What’s your deal, Riquelme?— he called, his tone cool but with an edge of challenge.

Rodrigo's eyes snapped to Lando's, narrowing. His nostrils flared slightly, as though he was holding something back.

—You think you’re some sort of hero for her, don’t you?— Rodrigo shot back, his voice tight with bitterness. —Like you’re the one she’s always dreamed of. But you don’t deserve her. You don’t even get her, Lando. Not like I did.—

Lando rolled his eyes, suppressing a chuckle that would’ve only served to piss off Rodrigo even more.

—Deserve her? Really?— Lando asked, tilting his head slightly. —Funny. I’ve been here for her through the thick and thin, you know, all the ups and downs. And yet, I’m the one you think doesn’t deserve her?—

Rodrigo scoffed, taking a step closer, his chest puffing up. He looked Lando dead in the eye, his voice low and dangerous.

—She deserves someone who can actually be there for her. Someone who doesn’t treat her like a casual fling. You didn’t even have the decency to stick around when things got tough. You left her, Lando. You left her like everyone else. But I... I stayed. I cared.—

Lando felt the blood rush to his head at the mention of leaving Amelie. He could feel the familiar mix of rage and frustration, that same knot of guilt that had haunted him when he let things go sour between them years ago. He hated being reminded of that period, hated how things had ended before they’d had a chance to be what they were supposed to be. But he wasn’t going to let Rodrigo twist the narrative.

—And how did that turn out for you, huh?— Lando shot back, his voice low but biting. —Because last time I checked, you were the one who couldn’t make it work. You were the one who couldn’t handle the distance. And you think you get to tell me I don’t deserve her?—

Rodrigo opened his mouth to retort, but Lando didn’t give him the chance. He was done being diplomatic, done with the quiet simmering of resentment that had been building ever since Rodrigo’s presence had tainted the day.

Lando stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in on Rodrigo's. His breath was shallow, the heat of the argument settling in his chest. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be having this conversation, but he also wasn’t going to back down. Not now.

—Look, mate,— Lando began, his voice cutting through the tension. —I’m not perfect. I’ve made my mistakes. I’ve fucked up, but I’ve also been the one to put in the effort. I’ve been there for her in ways you wouldn’t even understand. And the way you’re talking, like you’ve got some ownership over her? That’s not how this works. You don’t get to come in here and rewrite history just because you think you’ve got some claim to her, especially when it’s obvious you’re still bitter about how things ended. You don’t get to talk to me about what Amelie deserves.—

Rodrigo’s nostrils flared, his face turning a shade darker. He opened his mouth to respond, but Lando cut him off, his voice raising slightly.

—And don’t think I don’t know why you’re so pissed. You can’t handle the fact that she’s moved on. You think you’re the only one who could give her what she wanted. But newsflash: you couldn’t. And I’m sorry, but that’s just the truth.—

Rodrigo sneered, stepping closer now, his gaze locked on Lando’s. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, as if he was trying to contain the storm building inside him.

—And you think she’ll stay with you forever? What happens when it gets tough? When her career takes her away again? Will you still be there, or will you run off like last time?— His words were a challenge, as if testing Lando’s commitment.

Lando didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the tension in his body palpable.

—I’m not going anywhere, Rodrigo.— His voice was firm, unwavering. —I’ll be there. I’ll always be there, no matter what. And she knows that. You’re right about one thing, though. This isn’t easy. But we don’t run when it gets tough. That’s not what we do. That’s not who I am. And that’s certainly not who Amelie is.—

Rodrigo’s eyes flashed with anger at Lando’s unwavering confidence. He opened his mouth, but Lando didn’t give him the chance to speak.

—No, you don’t get to finish that sentence, Rodrigo.— Lando’s words were sharp, cutting him off mid-sentence. —I’m done with this. I’m not here to relive your drama. I’m not going to sit here and let you talk shit about her or me. So you can take your bitterness somewhere else. I’m not interested in whatever you have to say anymore.—

For a split second, Rodrigo looked as if he was about to snap. His hand twitched toward Lando, but it was like something clicked inside him, and instead of swinging, he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Lando turned on his heel, walking away without another word, his heart still racing, but now with the satisfaction of having finally stood up for Amelie. The tension still hung in the air like a storm waiting to break, but Lando refused to let it consume him. He had won this round—he’d made his point, and he wasn’t about to let Rodrigo or anyone else undermine his relationship with Amelie.

As he walked towards the locker room, his thoughts briefly turned to her. He couldn’t help but smile as he imagined her face—how she’d laugh at his fiery words and the way he’d stood his ground. She’d always had a way of grounding him, even when he felt his temper flaring. And despite everything that had happened today, despite Rodrigo’s unwelcome presence, Lando was more certain than ever about his place in her life.

[thexsanctuaryx]

So now that I'm working to finish this series -- I realize I HAD read this part already but apparently hadn't reblogged or commented???

I am SLACKING.

First off, I do apologize for taking so long to finish this series, especially as it's one of my favorite Miguel series. My only excuse is that I got REAL sick right around the time you post chapter 9 and have STILL yet to fully recover. So I am SO sorry it's taken so long.

THAT being said.

So many things to say, so little time.

POSSESSIVE Miguel telling her she's his over and over AND going so far as to say Jackson better not touch her again or even look at her. Everything. All of it. More please. I am only one woman.

Reminiscing over the chapter before this where he told her that he'd tear his throat out.

Goddamn Miguel -- this really shouldn't have such an effect but -sobs-

Also ah yes -- the angst of Miguel fighting himself. Our poor Not-Husband. He's doing his best. And we love him for it.

But the domesticity of her taking him home and helping him rest.

Followed by him telling her that he loved her and reader going 😳😳😳for the rest of the night.

Like girl I wouldn't sleep EITHER. Especially after the way he'd pushed her away for her.

Effing whiplash.

Also, honorable mention to our favorite girl Lyla. I swear, she ALWAYS gets me. And yours is just SO good.

So so good. I've truly missed your writing. It's always so well done. You're ABSOLUTELY KILLING it.

I think the next chapter is the first one I haven't read so I'm VER excited.

I swear I'm gonna be catching up on your works for DAYS. I'm so sorry I fell so behind!!!! I luuuh yoooouuu!!!

Decadent chapter 10

prev next || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Can you say no to the man you love?

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: 1.9

Content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, p in v, creampie, jealousy, angst, not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

"I need you."

"You don't," you insisted. "Not all of me, not really. You only put up with me for your research. You don't need me. You don't need anyone."

"Mi corazón, por favor," he breathed, desperately grasping at your hips to pull you closer. "You're the one person I need more than anything. You have no idea how much I've missed you."

You had a decision to make - your heart and your body wanted nothing more than to spend the night with Miguel, in his arms, in his bed, with him inside you. But your mind was trying to protect you.

As if you were going to say no to this man.

You were soaked and ready - desperate for him. He'd taunted you with one quick orgasm on his fingers. His pants were conveniently already shoved down around his hips from where you'd sucked him. He had you pinned against the wall. You were both ready. Eager. Sharing one another's breath. You both wanted it. Needed it.

You were supposed to say something like, "Goodnight, Miguel," or anything sensible, really. But what came out was, "please."

Your dress was already bunched around your waist. Miguel gripped his hard length and rubbed his tip through your folds - the promise of him filling you stealing the very breath from your lungs. Still, asked if it was okay as he started to push inside you.

"Don't stop," you gasped, grasping at his shoulders, your body quaking with anticipation.

Easing into you slowly, he groaned at how tight you felt, hissing out a few curses in Spanish as the greedy squelch of your wet cunt sucked him in, like you owned him.

"Been too long," you cried, shifting your hips to accommodate his size. The burn - the hot weight of him drew a desperate whine from your lips.

"So tight," he echoed, inching a little further in, groaning as you clenched around him.

"'S big, Miguel," you moaned, desperate to feel the full length of him deep inside you after week after week without him.

"My girl," he darkly husked. "Been waiting for me, haven't you? Only me."

"Yes," you panted. "Please."

"Say it, baby," he coaxed, tasting your lips one at a time. "Say you're mine."

"Yes," you repeated, gasping.

With a final push, he was all the way, deep inside you - every part of him rubbing up against you, easily holding you in place. Gripping your hips underneath your dress, he manipulated your position, moving you on his cock just the way he knew would make you see stars.

You gasped out, your head thumping against the wall behind you, exposing your throat to him. "You're so thick. Feels so good."

"Missed you, baby," Miguel groaned against your throat, twisting inside you deliciously. His lips sucked at the hollow of your throat so hard it was sure to leave a mark.

Everything happening right now was everything you could want. Miguel was inside you again, he missed you, he said he needed you. As he thrust into you hungrily, your body seemed to chant, 'yes, yes..." - all your worries miraculously dissipating.

Then you felt the slightest scratch of his fang. God you wanted it.

"Fuck," he growled, talons scraping at your flesh as his strong hands scooped up your ass. His thrusting grew frantic - carnal - his tongue laving wildly all over your throat.

You lost your grip on his massive arms as he pushed into you vigorously. Your body was his to manipulate.

"I don't want him touching you again," he snarled, breathing hotly on your ear. "I don't want him even looking at you. You're mine."

And that sent your body hurling into blissful oblivion. Miguel swallowed your cries of pleasure, covering your mouth with his own, licking in hotly. His tongue thrust heavily in your mouth in rhythm with his hard length deep inside you as he pumped you full of his spend.

He fucked you through your orgasm until you felt him leaking out of you, making a mess of your thighs.

Your body sagged limply against his chest - you were sure to be sore tomorrow morning. And the thought of it made you almost giddy - feeling the stretch of him - the sting, remembering how he pushed you up against this wall and took you.

Your lips chased after his as your fingers reached for the sides of his face. He didn't leave you wanting, running his strong hands up the curve of your back to hold you securely against his chest.

His kiss was almost desperate, although he was still careful not to pierce your tongue with his fangs. He mouthed a trail across your jaw, sucking and licking your throat.

"I'm so fucking hungry," he whimpered, his body still joined with yours, although soft and wet.

You didn't know what to say. Whatever you did say would inevitably be wrong. Plus you could barely think straight because of the mind altering sex you just had.

Miguel had superhuman stamina so he was already getting hard again as his fangs toyed with the flesh right over your pulse point.

Your fingers slid into his dark waves at the base of his neck, twirling gently - hoping he would stay calm, and here with you, in this moment.

His breathing grew shallow - the grip on your hips almost bruising as his lips latched onto your skin, sucking hard. You mewled as pleasure rippled up your spine.

Finally, he tore his mouth away from your throat, rapidly shaking his head. "No," he rasped. Releasing his hold on your hips, he eased out of you, setting you down.

Your legs nearly gave out, but you managed to lean against the wall for support, momentarily distracted by the slick wet heat trickling down the inside of your thighs.

"I can't," he gasped, jerking his clothes back into place. "I can't do it to you. I won't." His handsome face crumpled in anguish as he shook his head rapidly. You had been here, in this situation, with him too many times. You wondered if he was going to punish you with silence or distance. If he did, it would be the last time.

He stumbled back, as if drunk or dizzy, and you realized then, that he seemed weak. Physically weak.

"Miguel?" You softly called, smoothing your dress back into place as best you could. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He held his arms out, as if to keep you at a distance, pushing his hands through his hair. "It's - I'm just hungry. I shouldn't have... I mean...I was so close." Shaking his head rapidly, he turned away from you. "I need to go. I’m sorry. I think...I think I might pass out."

Whoa. Miguel was way too big to be passing out a public event meant to be in his honor. The two of you didn't exactly look presentable at the moment either. You had to get him out of here.

"Come on, let's get you home," you advised, offering your body as some tiny amount of support. Probably wouldn't do him much good, but you had to try to help him.

You could tell he wanted to protest, but he'd learned by now that you were as stubborn as he was. His eyes flashed a wild, alarming red, but he nodded once, slinging a massive arm over your shoulders.

Lyla appeared, indicating that his driver had been summoned and would be waiting. She directed the two of you to a discreet back entrance.

That made you wonder...where was Lyla this whole time? Last time, she shock-collared Miguel for even leaning in like he might kiss you and now she was quiet during a passionate interlude in the hallway - one in which he almost bit you?

"Did you reprogram Lyla so you could fuck me tonight?" You challenged, trying not to laugh.

Miguel looked like his giant frame might hit the ground any second, but he found it in him to lazily smile down at you.

"You little shit," you admonished, grateful that he was allowing you to help him.

"Can't help it," he softly returned, "I've missed you so damn much. Don’t think I can stay away anymore.”

You waited until he was finally tucked safely into the back seat of his car to respond.

"I'm right here, you know," you told him, climbing into the car beside him and tangling your fingers with his. "You don't have to miss me when I'm right here with you."

He squeezed your hand as his eyes drifted closed.

You didn't ask - you simply directed the driver to your address. Miguel didn't protest. He didn't trust himself not to rip your throat open and drink you, but your presence was somehow equally soothing and tantalizing. And he was so fucking tired of living without you in his arms.

Besides, he had found rest and peace in your presence last night, when he came to your bed.

You made it back to your place and suddenly found yourself with a handsomely dressed, deliciously disheveled, weak-from-hunger not-boyfriend - with you in your evening gown looking comedically out-of-sorts.

Without invitation, Miguel flopped down on your sofa, sighing tiredly as his head dropped back and his eyes drifted closed once again.

You leaned over from behind the sofa and slid your fingers into his hair scratching softly. "I'll be right back, okay? You just relax."

He mumbled an affirmative and, as you headed to your bedroom to change clothes and clean yourself up, you almost felt like the two of you were a couple.

You returned several minutes later, dressed in only an oversized t-shirt and panties, and carrying a damp wash cloth. As you eased down beside Miguel on the couch, you realized he was asleep. His lush, pouty lips were slightly parted as he breathed in and out heavily. He looked like a gigantic puppy.

Your heart swelled with concern. This man had stamina for days, so this not-feeding thing must be weakening him beyond belief. Releasing a sigh, you pushed careless dark waves out of his eyes, leaning in to place a gentle kiss against his temple. You had planned to place the cool cloth on his forehead, but you hated to wake him.

"What am I going to do with you?"

Kneeling down, you started to unlace his dress shoes, realizing that one of them probably cost more than your dress. He didn't stir as you relieved him of his socks and shoes. You wished you could help him out of his suit jacket, but that would prove difficult.

You decided to hang up your dress and freshen up the apartment just a little before summoning Lyla.

"Heyyyy it's my second favorite boss," Lyla chimed brightly. “Uh, no offense. What can I do for you?"

"First of all, keep it down," you admonished, nodding toward your sleeping boss. "And secondly, I need to know how Miguel is doing...medically speaking."

"Sorry, babe," Lyla fired back instantly. "That's classified. It's against my programming to discuss Miguel's physical health without him fully conscious."

You folded your arms over your chest. "Seriously? That's what he programmed?"

"Hey, I don't make the rules!" She chirped. "Take it up with the boss man."

Oh you would.

Eventually, you got sleepy, so you decided it might be time to get into bed. Probably best to leave Miguel resting on the couch...

Nah. Kneeling down beside the sofa, you shook him gently. "Miguel? It's late. Come to bed with me."

His eyes drowsily flickered as he mumbled something unintelligible. It took a few tries but he finally managed to wake up fully.

"Sorry," you whispered. "Let's get you out of this suit, okay?"

He groggily nodded, pushing off the sofa and lumbering toward your bedroom, guiding himself there with such ease that it almost felt domestic.

He peeled off his jacket, heading for the restroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, he wore only boxers.

Aw hell.

"I probably shouldn't be here," he grumbled, even while his massive body melted into your bed, reaching to take you with him.

Your heart fluttered as he possessively pulled you on top of his chest. Your cheek rested against the solid warmth of him as his muscled arms wrapped you up like a treasure.

"My girl," he sleepily mumbled, lazily running his hands over the curves of your body. "Love you."

Miguel fell asleep.

You stayed awake the rest of the night....

next

@deputy-videogamer @toecurlingstories @zephyrixx @juleshadalittlelamb @tsukkie-daisuke

@pockcock @minigirl87 @uncle-eggy@cookielovesbook-akie @wyldeflwr

@animechick555 @tiffanypooh @thexsanctuaryx @majestic-jazmin @rosecentaur1916

@deezisnotreal @serren-diamandis @alexxavicry @onefinnedwonder-fm @spidey-3

@lilacspider @imonmykneessir @saints-and-sinners @steven-grants-world @aquaarietes

[pagelets]

Choi Beomgyu as your bf:

“I knew from the first time I’d stay for a long time ‘cause I like me better when I’m with you”

Note: just fluff basically and Beomgyu being romantic.

(I could help myself and wrote it already hehe)

Taehyun version

- Carries you with him everywhere:

• He carries with him one of your favorite rings on his necklace.

• It doesn’t matter if he’s only going to the company or to the other side of the world, you are going with Gyu.

- Hides behind you when there’s a bug in your place:

• Of course Gyu protects you and treats you like a princess but not when it comes to a bug invading your nest.

• He would run around the house looking for a potential weapon, such as a pillow or your favorite china and would hide behind the couch or under the table till you got home to save him.

• After throwing the bug out of the windows with the help of a piece of paper, he tells you: “You know I love you, right?” “Yes, I know Gyu. Now get off the fridge".

- Loves your music taste:

• He could spend all day making a Jam on Spotify with you.

• Whenever he has freetime in the company he tunes in to listen what you’re listening to, quickly texting you asking if he can make a request.

- “How was your day?”:

• He wants to know everything.

• If you drank enough water, if you ate, if you remembered to put on sunscreen, how the traffic was, if your boss was nice to you, if the gym was crownded, everything.

• He could listen to you talk about your day for hours.

- Love notes:

• Since Beomgyu expresses himself better through writing, he usually leaves love notes on post-its all around the house before he leaves for work.

• Since you are out of the house before him and you come back before him as well, you’re always welcomed by beautiful love notes on the kitchen counter, on top of the bed, or even on the bathroom mirror, each day a different spot.

• When he’s not in the country, he texts you the notes at the time you usually get home from work.

- Cuddles, lot of cuddles:

• He isn’t clingy or codependent, he just feels so good around you and cuddling is one of his ways of showing you that.

- Art classes with Mr. Choi:

• He has so many artistic skills that you feel embarrassed when you compare your artworks.

• But no worries, Gyu is determined to make you the next Picasso.

• He holds your hands from behind while tracing lines on paper or when softly brushing a canvas with the paint.

• Sometimes you even pretend you’re not managing to do it on your own just so he'll keep guiding you like that. It's so sexy.

- And don’t forget, Beomgyu is still a brat:

• You’re no exception, he screams and teases you just as much as he does with other people.

• He screams and crosses his arms when you say no to him. Then he curls up in some corner of the house till you go talk to him the same way you do with a 4 year old toddler.

• In the end he always wins with his cute little pout and you end up doing whatever he wants.

[delilahsturniolo]

𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓’𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 — 𝒄.𝒔 ᥫ᭡⋆˚࿔

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 . . . 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 💌

in which . . . y/n and chris attend boston university, the both of you are always competing and bickering with each other academically. one day, chris suddenly asks you to help him make his ex jealous. the only problem is, you can’t stand each other. what happens when chris can no longer keep his true feelings about you a secret?

warnings . . . none, rlly short.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

one, two, three, four, five.

you hadn’t spoken with chris ever since you were at his house to work on the project. and honestly, you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders by doing so. right now, you were currently out shopping with nick. he was helping you pick out a dress for boston university’s annual winter ball. you weren’t sure who you were going with, or if you even wanted to go in the first place. but, nick insisted on you going.

you stepped out of the dressing room, nick lifted his head from his phone to look at you. the dress was a long dress that flowed down your body. “ooh! i like this one! you might trip on it though, so maybe not.” nick clapped, looking like a proud parent as you spun around in confidence.

“don’t you think it’s too much?” you asked nick, dusting off the dress. “y/n, if anything i think it’s too little. next one!” nick joked. you laughed, going back into the changing room and closing the curtain, stepping out of the dress.

you never usually went to parties, or school dances. you were honestly more lame than you thought you were. all you did was study, study, and study. you felt a pit in your stomach, knowing everyone had a date to the ball and was going to have fun, except you. you changed into the your next dress option, stepping out of the changing room with hesitation, smiling as nick’s jaw dropped.

“this is the one, you look so beautiful!” nick cheered, immediately making you feel better about yourself. “pleaseeee buy it y/n.” nick begged, jumping up and down with excitement.

“i really like it but…there’s no point.” you sighed, your shoulders slumping. nick tilted his head in confusion as those words came out of your mouth.

“i have no one to go with, nick.” you turned your head to look at him, he shook his head. “y/n, you can’t just ditch your first winter ball, this is really important. besides, you don’t necessarily need a date to have fun, y’know.” nick crossed his arms, trying to convince you to go.

“or you could go with chris.” nick suggested, making you scoff and shake your head immediately. “nope, no way. plus, he’s already going with victoria.” you explained to nick.

“what’s happening between the two of you anyway? i could’ve sworn you both hated each other’s guts.” you bit down on your lip as nick said this. if you were being honest, you had no fucking clue what was going on between you and chris, everything was back to how it was before.

“it’s—complicated.” you rubbed your eyes, looking into the mirror and examining the dress on your body. it was such a pretty dress, you really wanted it more than anything. but you couldn’t, you just couldn’t. you didn’t even wanna go to the ball, the thought of seeing chris and victoria there together made you feel sick to your stomach.

“you know what..? i think we should maybe come back another day, i’m not really feeling this dress anymore.” you lied right through your teeth, and nick knew. he knew exactly what you were thinking. nick put his phone in his back pocket and looked at you, seemingly with pity.

“are you sure? i don’t know if we’ll get another dress in time.” nick tried to persuade you, but you only shook your head. “no no, it’s okay. i just—need to get out of here.” nick frowned at your statement, but he nodded in understanding as you went back into the dressing room and closed the curtain once more. “yeah…yeah, that’s okay.” nick spoke softly, he was so worried about you.

and to be honest, you were worried about yourself. you had no idea what was going to happen.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

[witchofawoman]

LATE NIGHTS ⋆｡°✩

2. A Mess .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪𖤐

featuring : jj maybank x kook!reader

summary : Ever since that night, everything seemed different in your eyes but everything was still the same around you, your parents, your boyfriend, your "friends" and your lifestyle. But you couldn't stop thinking about him...

words count : 853

warnings : drug and alcohol usage, explicit content, angst, violence, addiction, cheating.

a/n : This is the 2nd part of this serie !! This part was abit rushed, but I'll do my best to post more and obviously better content, but until then : Enjoy 🌸!

Since that night, you had been avoiding JJ. No one else could make you feel the way he did, but the guilt of what had happened weighed heavily on you. Even knowing Rafe had been unfaithful, your own betrayal felt just as wrong. The Midsommar party was supposed to be an escape, a chance to distract yourself from the mess of emotions you carried. Yet guilt clouded your thoughts as your eyes kept finding JJ in the crowd, drawn to him no matter how hard you tried to look away.

You forced yourself to maintain composure. Your parents were there, and their expectations left no room for mistakes. Standing next to Rafe, who called out to JJ to fetch him a glass of champagne like a servant, the tension between the three of you was suffocating. JJ’s glare burned through you, his anger unmistakable and impossible to ignore. When Rafe left to join Ward, you seized the opportunity to slip away, pulling Sarah along with you under the pretense of needing some air.

Away from the party’s chaos, you retrieved a bottle of vodka you’d hidden earlier in the bushes. "You're insane," Sarah laughed as you unscrewed the cap and took a long swig.

"What’s life without a little mischief?" you teased, handing her the bottle. Sarah shook her head but took a sip anyway. Talking with her was easy. Since dating Rafe, Sarah had become like a sister to you—someone you could trust. But when she casually brought up the bonfire, your heart stopped.

"So, how was it with that Pogue?" she asked, a sly smile playing on her lips.

You froze. "What?" you stammered, panic creeping into your voice. Was it that obvious?

"Relax. I’m not judging," Sarah reassured you, her tone soft. But her words cracked something inside you. The guilt, the confusion, the overwhelming feelings. All of it came pouring out as you broke into sobs. Sarah listened without judgment, her presence comforting you in a way you desperately needed. "You and JJ could actually be good together," she mused, trying to lighten the mood. Her words caught you off guard, but for the first time in days, you laughed—a small, fragile sound that felt like a lifeline.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself sitting alone on the porch, the sounds of the party fading into the background. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice JJ approaching until he was right beside you.

"Hey, Y/N. How’re you doing?" His voice was soft, almost shy.

You looked up at him, his piercing blue eyes making your heart race. "Hi, Maybank. I’m... okay. You?"

"You look great tonight," he said, his sincerity catching you off guard. There was no trace of sarcasm or flirtation—just a simple, honest compliment. "You know, even if you’re a Kook, you’re always welcome with us."

His words surprised you. "Why now? You’re always so protective of the Cut," you challenged, narrowing your eyes.

"Because Kooks act like they own everything," he admitted with a shrug. "Let us have our little paradise."

His honesty annoyed and intrigued you in equal measure. "Yeah, whatever," you muttered, flipping him off as you stood and walked away. But his parting words followed you: "Don’t forget my proposition, Y/L/N."

For days, those words lingered in your mind. On impulse, you decided to take him up on it. Calling ahead, you let him know. "Already needy for me?" he teased when he picked up.

"Shut up," you snapped, hanging up immediately. At the Chateau, Pope answered the door, his confusion evident. His wary expression, almost disgusted, made you realize how unusual it was for the so-called "Kook princess" to show up there. What were your intentions? To humiliate them? To make trouble for John B? The awkwardness was palpable, so you quickly claimed you were there to see Kiara. Once alone with her, you confessed everything.

"JJ invited me, but I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted, your voice shaky.

Kiara’s knowing smile only deepened your embarrassment. "So, you’re the girl he’s been talking about," she said with a smirk.

Unable to handle the weight of her teasing, you left without even meeting JJ. Instead, you texted him, saying you couldn’t make it.

That night, as you sat alone on your balcony, the cool night air wrapped around you like a blanket. Lighting a joint, you let your thoughts drift to JJ. No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His laugh, his sharp wit, the way his eyes seemed to see right through you—it was maddening.

Acting on pure impulse, you messaged him. The response was almost immediate. "Be there in a quarter," he replied, and your heart raced as you read the words. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but you knew one thing for certain: there was no turning back now.

a/n : it was a bit rushed but I hope you still liked it, I didn't put any smut this time but I will for the next ones ☝🏼☝🏼I'll try to post the next part as soon as I can

[vikkirosko]

🩸 Horror x Reader headcanons 🪓

Horror wasn't someone who was easy to trust, even after he, like the others, left the Underground. But for some reason, you started trusting him anyway. You didn't pay attention to the fact that he looked scary, that he had difficulty speaking and remembering. But you became for him someone he didn't want to forget and whom he cared about. You lived next door to him and you were one of the few humans who weren't afraid to continue living next to monsters. Your neighbors left, but you stayed, trying to show that you trusted them and were ready to help them start a new life. Since the day the skeleton brothers became your neighbors, you have never regretted it

When they first started living next to you, you showed them the area, showed them the local shops, and when one of the store owners didn't want them in, Sans started getting angry, but you beat him to it, protesting and saying that it was rude of them and that they had no right to behave like that. Sans was pleased that there was someone who was really willing to trust him and his brother, despite their creepy appearance. Even when you became more than friends, he was surprised by it. You seemed so sweet and caring to him, you definitely could have found someone better than him, but you still chose him, a monster who scared even some of the monsters by his very appearance, not to mention people

You used to come to their house a lot. Papyrus has always been glad to see you. You were the one who made his brother happy, which means you were already his friend. You never argued with him, smiling gently and often treating them both to something. Sometimes you came when Sans was not at home, and when he returned, you found moments when his brother told you how wonderful Sans was, as if trying to convince you once again that your choice was the right one, even if you reminded him that it was not necessary and you continued to love Horror despite No matter what. At such moments, he would smile a little and lead you away from his brother. You saw that his words made Horror feel embarrassed, but you never talked about it, just smiling gently and taking his hand

Sometimes it happened that Horror went deep into himself. It was still hard for him, his mind was still damaged and he was sinking into himself. At such moments, you tried to be by his side. You were afraid that Sans could become so immersed in himself that he would start forgetting his new life. You hugged him, whispering that you were there. Your quiet voice helped him come to his senses, and looking at you trustingly hugging him, he got another reminder that now he didn't have to be afraid. He was with you, under a clear sky and warm sun, which meant he could calm down a little and not remember the bad things

You both knew it would take him a lot longer to get used to his new life, but you were there for him and helped him not feel like an outsider. You helped Horror move on, despite all the horrors he went through. You knew perfectly well that he had done a lot of bad things, but you didn't think that was the only thing that defined him, and you tried to remind him of it as often as possible so that he wouldn't forget about it