#their expression goes even darker

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

[sleepymarimo]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

summary: one time zoro pushes your affections away and another time when he begrudgingly accepts them. pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: none, zoro being a cutie and confused about soft feelings an: just some fluff bc I have a headache and I wanna give him a hug :( wc: 1.2k

it seemed like zoro had always let the oddest things to happen to him.

he’d let chopper climb atop his head, tiny hooves brushing through strands of moss green hair. when the reindeer’s soft fur tickled the skin of his cheeks, he didn’t blink.

he’d let usopp cling to him in fear, idly looking around with a bored expression as the sniper tugged at his hakama or pushed him right toward whatever threat lay before them.

the list goes on and on, the ever stoic swordsman never really putting in the effort to actively resist his crew mates or the occasional curious animal.

with that in mind, you figured that you’d be able to get away with some gestures of your own.

after a particularly rough battle, you’d been so utterly happy that your arms wrapped around the rugged swordsman, squeezing him tight.

you blame it on the adrenaline, not those pesky feelings of yours that you refuse to acknowledge.

it was an innocent embrace, imbued with nothing but affection and glee, yet that didn’t stop him from tensing at your touch.

the next thing you remember is being pushed away, gently but firmly, and feeling dumbfounded.

“the hell are you doing?” he had roughly questioned, brushing off your much-too-sweet touches from his person.

uncomfortable.

he was uncomfortable and he hated it, not particularly fond of feeling so vulnerable from something as simple as a damn hug.

looking between him and your still awkwardly stretched out arms, you come to a sort of realization.

zoro didn’t just let things happen to him. no, he allowed them. every touch and tug and pinch was permitted, actively decided upon by the marimo.

that fiasco was almost a whole week ago, the thousand sunny now barreling through the rolling waves of the sea in the hopes of reaching a winter island.

even as the air became colder, the clouds darker, you continued to simmer.

unjustifiable annoyance creeps into your brain just thinking about how he pushed you away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and hurt alike.

he didn’t feel that bad.

the swordsman had boundaries, which was understandable, set in place for the sake of self-preservation.

that small flip his heart did when he felt you hug him? the boiling heat that clawed up from his chest to his cheeks and to the tips of his ears? absolutely not.

he didn’t want to deal with that, especially after a fight and with the rest of the crew watching.

it took time for you to adjust your actions, to maneuver around the barriers he’d set in place for himself.

being the stubborn little thing you were, you decided to throw yourself into the jaws of the tiger once more.

you try your luck on a brumal morning, a light frost already starting to form on the deck. it seems like the water is still, the sea easily parting as the ship effortlessly glides on its surface.

the observation deck is your destination, where you’re sure the marimo will be.

and indeed he is, outwardly unaffected by the biting cold.

meticulous as ever, at least when it comes to his craft, he sits on a mat and polishes his blades. shoulders relaxed, but eyes sharp, he goes about his task with precision.

he knows you’ve just entered the observation room, thinking that a nod of his head and a small grunt is enough of a greeting.

the scent of steel and polish hang in the air as he continues, figuring that you’d come in to grab something.

he doesn’t expect to be what you want. what else was he good for besides swinging a damn sword around?

you mask your nerves and step inside, taking brisk steps towards the swordsman. it’s now or never, you think, quick to take a seat behind him on the mat.

with slow and gentle movements, you situate yourself into your preferred position.

your chest presses into his back, the rough material of his shirt not enough to keep you from resting your cheek there.

your inner thighs hug his outer ones, the firmness of the muscle beneath forcing you to hold back a shudder. sealing the deal, you loosely wrap your arms around his midsection.

“good morning.” you mumble, speaking to him as if he were a deer about to bolt.

silence is what you get in return and you wish you could peer into that thick skull of his to see what he was thinking.

warm.

that’s how zoro feels at first, before something akin to discomfort starts to gnaw away at him.

his hands come to a stop, his head lifting as he stared ahead and processed just what the hell you were doing.

there’s a split second of stillness- a period of time where he decides if he wants to revel in your touch or bask in his solitude for a moment longer.

it feels like eons pass before the tension is broken, fizzling into nothing as if it didn’t exist in the first place.

his hands resume their task of polishing his prized swords. the muscles in his body relax and everything else suddenly melts away.

he grants you permission.

he allows it.

“morning.” he grumbles back, speaking with an air of nonchalance that contrasted with how fast his mind was racing.

it’s a delicate balance, as frail as the thin layer of ice starting to form on the glass windows.

you know now more than ever to hold off on the banter and teasing, unless you wanted to get bucked off.

taking what you’ve been given, you’re content enough with releasing a deep breath and letting the rise and fall of his back lull you into a light doze.

time seems to pass slower in this world, in this little pocket of tranquility which exists only for the two of you.

when you finally decide to loosen your grip and pull away, he lets out a noise equivalent to a growl.

he’s almost offended.

one of his hands holds your wrist in place, his grip firm. he’s never been good at displaying tenderness, his words unintentionally gruff. “oi, where are ya goin’?”

he releases your arm, almost daring you to defy him. his muscles relax once more, calloused hands resuming the tedious task of polishing steel as he picks up his next sword.

his tone is softer, spoken as a mumble as if he was afraid of saying too much. “just stay a little longer.”

the request has you momentarily astonished, eyes widening a tad before you got a grip on yourself. your arms settle back around his waist, a pleasant buzz spreading in your chest and down to your toes.

you were well aware that this was a rare opportunity, one that you could not and would not pass up.

so, you let out a sigh and rest your cheek on his back once more.

his aura seems to encapsulate you, making you feel safe and at ease.

he’s satisfied with your reaction, how you effortlessly unwind and how your breaths even out.

once again, he’s warm.

zoro decides that he can spend hours just like this.

for the crew, he could always be a demon. for you? he wouldn't mind being a bit more human.

[nomie-11]

Piltover's Princess - Part 2

masterlist! | part 1

synopsis: vi is a little bit less of a blushing mess now that she's got piltover's princess on her territory

pairings: vi x reader

The first time Vi had gotten you alone, she was unreasonably happy. Everytime the two of you had been together before this it had been on your turf, under your circumstances, with your people surrounding you, and Caitlyn had always tagged along. 

You had even let Vi play dress up—something that you never did, not even for your sweetheart of a mother—and let her pick out some casual clothing for you to wear. And she thought you looked absolutely adorable in the plain brown leather jacket and black pants she had picked for you, even if you shifted uncomfortably in the plain clothes. 

“Vi, I feel like I’m wearing a costume,” You said flatly, tugging at your sleeve as you stood in front of her, the fancy decor of your bedroom suddenly feeling foreign and unfamiliar in your new attire. “I look ridiculous.” 

“You look adorable, princess,” she corrected, a wide grin on her face. “Ready to conquer Zaun?” 

With a sharp, yet endearingly deep breath, you nodded, stealing your expression. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

—------------------------------

You were not ready. 

Zaun was an entirely different world from Piltover. The air was thicker, darker, and the streets were damp and uneven as you dutifully walked next to Vi. Even the way you walked made you stick out like a sore thumb, your strides too long, your head held too high. You looked every bit the royalty you were painted to be, even when you wanted nothing more than to become Vi’s shadow. 

“There’s so much I have to show you,” Vi rambled, her eyes bright with excitement as you turned another corner. “You have to try my favorite food ever—oh, you’re going to love Zaun style street food! And I have to take you to The Last Drop—you need to meet Powder and Ekko! And then we need to watch the skyline after the sun goes down from the rooftops, there’s firelights everywhere, and Piltover looks beautiful from Zaun’s rooftops! And–”

You stumbled on a loose cobblestone, the toe of your worn boots catching on the edge of the stone before you could resituate yourself, and you felt yourself falling with a small yelp. 

Vi reacted instantly, her reflexes sharp as ever. Before you could hit the ground, her strong arms were around you, steadying you effortlessly. 

“Whoa, easy there, princess,” Vi said, her voice filled with concern, but her ears pink. “You okay?”

You looked up at her, cheeks flushing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… not used to these streets.” You straightened yourself, brushing imaginary dust off your pants, trying to calm the blush that covered your face. 

Vi laughed, a warm and genuine sound that made your heart flutter. “Guess we gotta get you some Zaun-proof boots next time, huh?”

You gave her a small smile, grateful for her attempt to lighten the moment. “Maybe. Or you could just catch me every time I fall.”

For a second, Vi wished she dragged Caitlyn along as well, because now there was no one to cover for her as she stumbled over her words—her mouth caught somewhere between “of course I’ll catch you,” and “please marry me.”

————————————

The stand that Vi brought you to for food was… interesting, to say the least. 

“We need to have the seafood skewers. Oh! And we need the tentacle stew—and you have to try grilled Zaun-style fish heads!” She rambled as you approached a stand with a huge blue fish-man behind the counter. 

The vendor, a hulking figure with vibrant scales and a grin that revealed jagged teeth, greeted Vi with a hearty laugh. 

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t Vi! Who’s the fancy friend?” He teased, his eyes flickering to you. 

You swallowed nervously, feeling like you were out of your depth—quite literally. 

“This is Y/n,” Vi said proudly, nudging you forward. “Piltover’s finest—and she’s here to try real Zaun food.” 

The vendor laughed again. “Piltover royalty, huh? You sure you can handle our flavors, princess?” 

You straightened your shoulders, determined not to let the teasing get to you. “I can handle it,” you said with as much confidence as you could muster. 

Vi smirked, clearly amused by your defiance. “We’ll take two skewers, a bowl of stew, and—uh—one fish head.” She grinned at your flushing face. “Start small.” 

As you waited for your food, Vi leaned against the counter, casually talking to the vendor about Zaun gossip. You listened, marveling at how comfortable she was in this world that felt so chaotic to you.

When the food arrived, the smell was… overwhelming. The skewers glistened with an oily sauce, and the stew was bubbling with chunks of blue fish meat. Then there was the fish head, its glassy eyes staring right at you. 

“Ready to dig in?” Vi asked with a grin, holding out a skewer. 

You hesitated, staring at the fish head like it might come back to life. “Do I… eat the eyes?” 

Vi burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as a light blush covered your cheeks. “Only if you’re brave enough!”

You shot her a mock glare, grabbing a skewer instead. You took a cautious bite—and to your surprise, it was delicious. Smoky, salty, with a tangy kick that lingered on your tongue. It was incredible. 

“That’s… amazing!” You beamed, your eyes lighting up as you eagerly went for another bite. 

Vi froze for a moment, staring at you with a mixture of disbelief and adoration. “You… think so?” she asked, her voice unusually soft. 

You nodded enthusiastically, savoring the flavors. “I’ve never tasted anything like this before. It’s so different—but in a good way!”

Vi’s heart did a little flip at your excitement. The way your eyes sparkled, the way your lips curved into that radiant smile, the way you hummed in delight at every bite—it was too much for her to handle. You were too much. 

“Y-you’ve got, uh, sauce on your cheek,” Vi stammered, her usual confidence crumbling as she gestured vaguely at your face. 

You blinked, then tried to wipe it away, missing the splotch entirely. “Here?” 

“No, uh, lower… wait, here, let me—” Vi reached out with a napkin, gently brushing it against your cheek. She was so close now, her face inches from yours, and she could feel her ears heating up as her eyes locked onto yours. 

Your cheeks flushed as you felt the warmth of her hand so near, her punk hair catching the dim light of the streetlamps. You weren’t sure if it was the slightly spicy food or Vi’s proximity, but your heart was racing. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice softer than you intended. 

Vi quickly stepped back, the napkin crumpled in her hand as she tried to collect herself. “N-no problem. Just—uh—looking out for you, princess,” she said, her tone uneven. 

You couldn’t help but smile at her flustered state. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, Vi,” you teased, leaning slightly closer. 

Vi’s brain fumbled for a moment. Her tough exterior cracked completely as she stumbled over her words, her face growing redder by the second. “I’m not—! I mean, you’re—! Ugh, why are you like this?” she groaned, burying her face in her hands for a moment before peeking out with a sheepish grin. 

You laughed, the sound ringing clear and light in the crowded streets of Zaun. “Maybe I just like seeing you flustered,” you said with a playful wink, savoring the familiar sight of pink dusting Vi’s cheeks. 

Vi shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible, princess.”

—-------------------------------------------------

After the meal, Vi led you further into Zaun, the streets bustling with a lively energy that seemed to pulse through every corner. The closer you got to The Last Drop, the more you noticed how the atmosphere shifted. It wasn’t chaotic or oppressive like you had feared; instead, there was an undeniable sense of community. Neon signs blinked overhead, casting colorful glows on the groups of people gathered around makeshift stalls and street performers. Children darted through the sparse crowd, their laughter echoing off the dark brick walls. 

“You’re going to love this place,” Vi said, glancing back at you with a grin. “It’s basically my home. Vander and Silco turned it into something really special—a real hub for the Lanes.” 

You could see the pride in her expression as you approached the large, well-worn building. The Last Drop’s sign hung prominently, now accompanied by a glowing neon art that gave it an almost welcoming feel. The faint hum of music and laughter spilled into the streets, and you felt your earlier nervousness start to melt away. 

Vi pushed the door open, the scent of aged wood and spiced drinks greeting you. Inside, the place was alive. Tables were filled with Zaunites of all ages, sharing food, playing games, or simply chatting. A small stage in the corner featured a group of musicians, their melodies blending seamlessly with the clinking of glasses and friendly chatter. 

“Vi!” an unfamiliar voice called out, and you turned to see a young woman with bright blue hair bounding toward you. Her grin wide and sparkling eyes were impossible to miss. She had the cutest twin buns in her hair, and a streak of pink contrasting beautifully with the almost neon blue of the rest of her hair. 

“Hey, Pow!” Vi replied, catching her in a quick hug before gesturing toward you. “This is Y/n.” 

Powder’s eyes lit up as she gave you a quick one over. “So you’re the fancy Piltover princess. Vi’s been talking about you nonstop. Welcome to our world!”

You felt your cheeks warm at Powder’s words, glancing at Vi, who was suddenly avoiding your gaze with a sheepish grin. “It’s nice to meet you,” you said, offering a small smile. 

Powder grabbed your hand, practically dragging you deeper into the room. “Come on, you’ve got to meet Vander—oh! And Ekko! You have so many people to meet!”

Vi trailed behind, chuckling at Powder’s enthusiasm. “Easy, Powder, let her breathe.” 

But there was no stopping her. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of Vander, the man who seemed to exude both strength and kindness. His arms were crossed over his chest, but his expression softened when he saw you. 

“So you’re the one Vi’s been sneaking off to Piltover for,” Vander said, his voice deep but warm. “Welcome to Zaun. You must be something special to get her to bring you here. Vi’s always talking about how she and Caitlyn are always running into you, it’s nice to know she has more than one friend.” 

Your cheeks burned as you glanced at Vi, whose ears had turned a bright shade of pink. She scratched the back of her neck, her usual confidence nowhere to be found. 

“Uh, yeah. Cait and I have run into her a few times,” Vi mumbled, avoiding eye contact with Vander. 

Vander smirked knowingly, but didn’t press further. “Well, any ‘friend’ of Vi’s is welcome here. Make yourself at home.” 

Before you could respond, Powder grabbed your hand again, tugging you toward a smaller table in the corner where a boy a few years younger than you with bright, curious eyes sat hunched over a complex-looking device. 

“Ekko! Look who Vi brought!” Powder exclaimed, plopping down beside him and resting her head on his arm, before gesturing toward you with a flourish. “This is Y/n Talis. She’s from Piltover, and she’s super fancy!”

Ekko looked up, his face lighting up with a mix of excitement and curiosity. “Talis? As in Jayce Talis? What brings you down to Zaun?” 

You hesitated for a moment, still adjusting to the whirlwind pace of the evening. “Vi’s been telling me a lot about Zaun. I wanted to see it for myself—and meet the people who make it so special.” You gestured toward the intricate device on the table. “And from the looks of it, you’re one of those people.” 

Ekko’s grin widened, and he turned the device toward you. “This? It’s a prototype I’m working on. Powder’s been helping me with the mechanics. We’re going to enter it in the Youth Innovator’s Competition in a few weeks.” 

Your eyes widened in recognition. “I know that competition! I mean, you obviously know my brother, but he and his partner won it a few years ago! Their invention changed everything for Piltoverr—if you’re entering, I’m sure your invention will be just as amazing.”

Powder’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “What were their inventions like up close? Are they cool? Do they glow?” 

You smiled, the memories flooding back. “Super cool. Watching them work was inspiring—they poured their hearts into it. And you should do the same. Keep going, even when it feels impossible. I know you’ll create something amazing.” 

Ekko and Powder exchanged a glance, their excitement palpable. “Thanks, Y/n,” Ekko said earnestly. “That means a lot.”

Vi, who had been leaning against a nearby pillar, watched the scene unfold with a soft, almost awestruck expression. The way you spoke, so encouraging and genuine, made her chest ache in a way she couldn’t quite put into words. 

“Okay, that’s it,” she muttered under her breath, crossing her arms. “I’m marrying her.” 

Powder, who had somehow overheard, turned to Vi with a mischievous grin. “What was that, Vi?”

Vi’s eyes widened, her face turning beet red. “Nothing! Mind your business, Powder!” she snapped, though there was no real heat in her voice. 

Powder cackled, leaning over to whisper something to Ekko, who grinned and gave Vi a knowing look. 

Vi just sighed, burying her face in her hands, wishing she could both disappear and live in this moment forever. 

—-------------------------------------------------

By the time the night was winding down, you found yourself walking alongside Vi through the quieter streets of Zaun. The energy of The Last Drop had been exhilarating but exhausting, and now the world seemed softer, the glowing lights casting a warm glow on the damp cobblestones. 

Vi had insisted on showing you the skyline from the rooftop of The Last Drop before the evening ended. You’d hesitated, looking up at the daunting climb, but her enthusiasm was infectious, and you reluctantly agreed. 

“Come on, princess,” she teased, holding her hand out to you. “I’ll be your guide. Trust me.” 

“I do trust you,” you said softly, slipping your hand into hers. 

The climb was not a s graceful as you might’ve hoped. Vi scrambled up effortlessly, her movements fluid and confident. You, on the other hand, struggled to find footing, your amrs trembling as you pulled yourself up the uneven surfaces. 

“Y/n, you good back there?” Vi called, peeking over the edge of the ledge she’d just scaled. 

“Do I look like I’m good?” you huffed, glaring up at her. 

Vi chuckled, her grin wide as she reached down to offer her hand. “Come on. I’ve got you.” 

With her help, you managed the last stretch, panting slightly as you collapsed onto the rooftop. “How do you do this so easily?” 

“Practice,” she replied, sitting beside you and brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You’re not so bad for a first-timer, though.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “Glad I didn’t embarrass myself completely.” 

“You could never embarrass yourself,” Vi said, her voice softer now. 

You turned to respond but stopped when you caught the look in her eyes—something tender and unguarded. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly glanced away, focusing on the skyline instead. 

And what a view it was. 

Piltover stretched out before you, its golden lights shimmering like stars against the dark sky. The faint glow of Zaun’s neon signs framed the edges of the scene, creating a contrast that was both striking and beautiful. 

“Wow,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s so beautiful.” 

“Yeah,” Vi murmured, her gaze fixed not on the skyline but on you. 

The weight of her stare made you glance back at her. “You’re not even looking at the view,” you pointed out with a small, nervous laugh. 

Vi blinked, startled, and quickly turned her head. “I was—uh, I mean, I am! It’s great! Amazing view! Totally worth the climb!”

You bit your lip, suppressing a smile. Her usual confidence was gone, replaced by an awkwardness that you found utterly endearing. She rubbed the back of her neck, her ears tinged pink, and you realized just how close you were sitting. 

The space between you felt charged, electric. 

“Vi,” you said softly, drawing her attention back to you.

“Y-yeah?” 

“Kiss me.” 

Before she could overthink it, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was tentative but undeniably warm. For a moment, Vi froze completely, her mind blanking, but then she leaned into the kiss, her hand coming up to cradle your cheek gently. 

When you finally pulled back, her wide eyes met yours, her lips parted in disbelief. “I—uh—wow. I didn’t see that coming,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. 

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You talk a lot, you know that?” 

“Yeah. Sorry, I just—”

You leaned in again, cutting her off with another kiss, this one deeper and more confident. Her arms circled around you instinctively, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. 

When you finally broke apart, Vi rested her forehead against yours, a dazed smile on her face. “So, did Piltover’s princess like Zaun?” 

“Oh, she loved it.”

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

asked to be tagged: @lipglosskxsses

[hsnlv]

strawberry lemonade | s.jy

pairing: bestfriend!jake x reader

teaser: “have a pack?” you ask, cocking your eyebrow at him. jake is confused, utterly. a pack of what, exactly? but the question in his head is quickly answered by you. “cigarettes.”

warnings/others: suggestive!!!!, mentions of smoking and vaping (and the actual action of doing it too lol), smoker!jake agenda (?) somehow…

wc: 1.3k

a/n: pls enjoy this hello?? my chest feels so warm (not in a cute way) when i wrote lmfao!! comments are reblogs are highly appreciated! anyways, happy reading lovelies🎀 here’s my masterlist!

"this movie is shit," you groan, letting your head fall back against the leather couch in jake's living room.

you don't know what's worse-the absolute trainwreck of a film playing on the screen or the fact that you and jake's science project is an utter failure. either way, both are enough to drive you insane.

beside you, jake chuckles softly, the sound sending a flicker of irritation through your already sour mood.

“have a pack?” you ask, cocking your eyebrow at him. jake is confused, utterly. a pack of what, exactly? but the question in his head is quickly answered by you.

“cigarettes.” you reply with a well-no-duh tone, as if that’s the most obvious thing in the world to ask about. but jake’s confusion turns deeper when he heard you.

"you smoke?" he asks, head tilting just slightly.

oh, fuck. why is that hot?

everyone tilts their head when they're confused, but jake? it's different. there's something about the way his sharp features soften just a little, the way his glasses slide down his nose ever so slightly, the way his dark eyes fix on you with pure curiosity-it's almost infuriating how attractive he is.

you've always thought so. al-fucking-ways! the feelings you have for him-buried under layers of playful teasing and feigned indifference-have been there for as long as you can remember. and seeing him now, with that confused yet intrigued expression on his face, does nothing to help the situation.

"yeah, sometimes," you say, shrugging like it's nothing. "only when i really need it."

jake swallows, and you don't miss the way his throat bobs. his mind is running wild, you can tell. maybe it's the contrast of it-you, the one who always nags about health, casually revealing this habit. he doesnt take you as someone who particularly smokes.

he still remembers the night where you would clean the overall of his room before you slept on his bed because you said “boys are dirty and disgusting” but in reality, you did it because the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him freaked you out —or turned you on—and you just wanted something to somehow distract you from the pooling heat on your panties. spoiler not so spoiler alert: it failed!

he clears his throat, breaking the brief silence. "i don't have any."

he can feel his throat goes dry at the mental image of you puffing out the white puff from your mouth. oh oh, sim is in trouble!

his reply makes you sigh against the couch. and as if you hear the bell of the ice cream truck, you excitedly sit up from the couch, remembering that you always carry a disposable pod with you.

quickly, you dig into your bag, fingers brushing against the smooth plastic before you pull it out. a small, pale pink device. a guilty pleasure. something you keep just in case you need one. and that ‘just in case’ happens to be now.

you flick it on, settle back into the cushions, and take a slow, deliberate inhale. the sweetness of the flavour fills your mouth and lungs, smooth and almost intoxicating.

strawberry lemonade.

you hum in satisfaction, tilting your head back as you release the thick, milky cloud of vapor into the air. it feels good-too good.

but what feels even better is jake's reaction.

his eyes are darker now, hooded as they watch you. his breathing is slightly heavier, his lips parted just barely and his cheeks flushed. you can see the way his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach for you but is holding himself back.

you lift the pod, offering it to him. "want some?" and your voice clicks him back into reality. he replies with a soft ‘yeah, sure’.

maybe it’s the stupid nicotine that messes up with your brain or maybe you’re just purely stupid when you take another long drag, letting the vapor sit on your tongue as you crawl up to him.

slowly, you shift, climbing into his lap and straddling him with ease.

jake stiffens under you, his hands instinctively finding your waist, fingers digging in slightly as you settle against him. his breath is shaky as he mutters a soft yet whiny ‘shit’, his eyes wide, and when you lift a hand to tap gently at his cheek, signaling him to open his mouth, he obeys without question.

you lean in, closing the space between you both, lips hovering dangerously close to his as you part yours, exhaling the white cloud into his mouth, your lips almost touching his.

and fuck, that almost makes his heart bursts— so does his growing dick!

his lips wrap around the vapor, drawing it in, and fuck-he groans. it's quiet, barely there, but you hear it. feel it.

his grip on your waist tightens. his head falls back against the couch, his adam's apple bobbing as he exhales, savoring the feeling, the taste of the sweet strawberry lemonade, and the intensity of the moment.

and god, the sight of him like this-his chest rising and falling, his jaw clenched, his lips slightly swollen-sends a rush of heat straight between your legs.

he gently lifts his head up back again, cocking an eyebrow at you, his gaze calling you in.

and before he can speak, you do it again.

another hit, another lean in, another slow, intimate transfer of smoke.

but this time, jake doesn't let you pull away.

instead, his hands slide up your back, firm and sure as they press against you, keeping you close. and then-he kisses you.

it's slow at first, exploratory, lips brushing over yours in a teasing, featherlight way that makes you whimper before he deepens it.

his tongue traces the seam of your lips, tasting the sweet remnants of strawberry lemonade before slipping inside, tangling with yours.

it's intoxicating. dizzying. the way he kisses— deep and consuming, like he wants to devour you whole-makes your head spin.

they should make flavour that tastes as sweet and as good as him and named it “jake”. because hell, how can someone taste this good?!

his hands are everywhere. gripping your waist, sliding up your sides, brushing against your thighs. and yours are no better, fisting the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, pressing yourself against him, needing more.

a quiet moan slips from your lips, and jake groans in response, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you down harder against him.

you can feel him. every bit of him.

the realization sends a shiver down your spine, and when you rock against him ever so slightly, he curses under his breath, hands tightening their hold on you.

"fuck," he murmurs against your lips, his voice breathless, needy.

his hands shift again, one sliding up to cup the back of your neck, the other pressing against your lower back, holding you firm against him as he kisses you deeper, harder.

it's too much. not enough.

your fingers thread into his hair, tugging slightly, and the groan he lets out is nothing short of sinful.

he's losing control.

and you love it.

but then-he pulls back, panting, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath.

his eyes flicker open, dark and filled with something you can't quite place.

without a word, he moves.

slowly, effortlessly, he shifts, standing up and lifting you into his arms with ease.

you yelp softly, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck, legs around his waist as he carries you.

"jake-"

"shh," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. "just let me have you, please?”

his voice is soft, but there's a hint of desperation behind it. and how can you say no?

instead, you let him carry you, let him press gentle kisses to your skin as he walks, let yourself melt into his hold.

and when he finally reaches his room, gently placing you down onto his bed, his eyes filled with nothing but want and adoration-you know it’s going to be a long night.

© all rights reserved | hsnlv | 2025

[rukkiya]

forget me not

(kaeya x reader)

he promises to take you out to dinner, but he never shows.

“Would you like to place an order now hon?” The waitress asks softly, making you look from your empty wine glass up to her soft eyes.

“Ah, if I can order another glass of wine that would be nice! I’m still waiting,” you look outside the big window next to you, seeing the sky much darker than when you first sat. “I’m sure he’ll arrive soon.” You turn back to her smiling, repeating the same thing for the fourth time for the past two hours trying to convince yourself more than her that he’ll show up. He always does.

“Of course, I’ll be back with the bottle in just a minute.” She nods, turning to get you more of what you requested.

You don’t remember the last time you drank, heck you don’t even drink much to begin with but it’s all you can do to kill time. You don’t want to eat without him and spoil your appetite, he will show up soon.

You know he’s busy, he’s the Captain of the Knights so it’s expected. When he proposes the idea of going out you couldn’t hide your excitement. Anything to do with Kaeya was your favorite.

You arrived at the restaurant the time he told you to be there, at 7pm. The clock reads 9:30 now but it’s ok, it’s understandable. He’s the captain of the Knights after all.

The lights surrounding the small restaurant eliminates the busy nightlife in Mondstadt. You eye the people who are passing by, smiling at the elderly people who walk with their significant others, the parents holding their children’s hands as their laughter fills the air. But your eye catches something from afar.

The familiar head of blue hair among the people walking by. Your stomach erupts with butterflies seeing him finally. Walking down the stairs to the main shopping area in Mondstadt. But as he inches closer you see he isn’t alone. He’s walking with someone, no. He’s holding onto someone who’s leaning on him.

Your eyes squint a bit, trying to see if what you’re seeing is correct. But you see him smiling with the woman next to him mixed in with everything else and your heart goes heavy.

You see his smile much clearer now that they both are closer, he has his arm hooked around hers, almost as if he is holding her upright to keep her from stumbling and she’s giggling at him, eyes wide looking up at him leaning into him as much as she can.

The two walk past the restaurant and down towards Diluc’s tavern, Kaeya didn’t even glance at the restaurant you were currently sitting in waiting for him. Not once, he kept his eyes on the girl the whole time.

You reach for your pocket watch with a heavy hand and flip it open, seeing the time 9:45 pm. Almost three hours, three whole hours and he’s with someone else. He forgot.

You quickly finish the last of your wine and blink. Did he actually forget?

You wave your waitress down when she passes you, making her stop.

“Actually, can I purchase a whole bottle of wine please?” You ask her and she nods, her smile falling a bit at your expression. Your eyes look glossy.

He promised you a night out after so long. You’ve both been so busy with work this sounded so nice but it was too much to ask for apparently. He had more important matters.

Diluc makes his way down the street to his tavern and spots you sitting alone in the restaurant. Glass of wine in hand and solemn look on your face.

His eyebrows furrow. “Why are they out alone right now?” He thinks.

Part of him wants to stop and check in, but part of him knows to not get into people's business. He doesn’t want to sadden you further by making you talk about it. But if he makes another run in a while and still sees you in there, he'll stop by.

Diluc pushes the door to his tavern open, his eyes fall on Kaeya and Amber helping a woman who is belching into a bag, Amber is rubbing her back and Kaeya is holding napkins for her. This makes Dilucs mouth from the line. ”What's going on?” he thinks.

“I got her from here. I’ll take them Barbara just in case.” Amber helps the woman up to her feet and walks to the door, Diluc holds it open for them.

“Thank you, I'll make sure to check in with Albedo and Jean tomorrow.” Kayea waves her off, eye falling on an unamused looking Diluc.

“Your plus one got sick?” Diluc speaks up, making Kaeya’s smile drop.

“Not my plus one, a subordinate.” Kaeya answers flatly, not even laughing at such a dumb joke.

“Why bring one of your knights here?” Diluc asks, taking his coat off, rolling up his sleeves.

“They were exposed to a potion in Albedo’s lab, he suggested bringing them here. He said grape juice might help sober them up, where else would I go to get it when you sell the best.” Kaeya shrugs, making Diluc hum.

“You’re not drinking?” Diluc raises a brow at Kaeya when he realizes there’s no alcohol in front of the captain.

“Nope, I already feel like I’m forgetting something, if I drink I really won’t remember. I’d rather not.” Kaeya sighs, a looking out the window.

“I saw y/n on the way here.” Diluc brings you up, at the sound of your name Kaeya looks at Diluc again his eye brightens. His focus now is on what Diluc has to say.

“My darling? Did you talk to them? What are they doing out this late?” Kaeya smiles, though he’s confused. You’re never out this late.

“They were in the new restaurant down the street, they were drinking.” Diluc clears his throat at the last part.

Kaeya tilts his head. “Alone? What do you mean by drinking?” Kaeya asks

“They had a glass of wine in their hand, they were sitting alone at-

Kaeya tries to think of why you’d be out so late, you don’t have any appointments this late. You didn't tell him you were meeting anyone. His eye catches the calendar behind Diluc and feels his heart drop when he notices the date.

“What time is it?” Kaeya cuts Diluc off.

Diluc pulls out his pocket watch and sighs. “Just hit 10pm” he shows Kaeya and sees the color drain from his face.

“Oh no.” Kaeya stands up in a flash. Before Diluc can question him he’s out the door.

His legs don’t stop. It’s so dark out and you’re alone. How long have you been waiting?

Kaeya sees the restaurant come into view and sprints faster, throwing the door open the instant his hand makes contact with the knob.

The restaurant goes quiet, the few customers and waiters in there stare at the Captain who seems to be out of breath.

He ignores the stares, his eye scanning the vicinity for one person and one person only.

But it's strange, you're not here. He walks further to the back and sees an empty table with a coat that looks familiar.

He sees a waitress clearing empty wine bottles from it, quickly making his way to your coat.

“Excuse me,” Kaeya greets the older waitress and she smiles at him.

“Hell- Captain Kaeya hello! What brings you here?” the waitress smiles.

“I'm looking for someone. Do you know if the person that was sitting here left?” He asks, seeing the waitress’ smile drop a bit.

“Why yes. They were here for a while but they left not too long ago. They had drank a lot of wine and ordered no food. I offered to walk them home since they seemed a bit off balance but they said it was ok. I realized they left their coat a bit too late. I had gone out to tell them but they were already gone.” She explains, feeling sorry for you.

Kaeya feels his chest tighten.

“Thank you. If you don't mind, can I take the coat with me? I'd like to give it to them myself.” Kaeya asks.

“Why of course how sweet of you.” the waitress nods her head, gesturing with her hands for him to take it.

“Thank you.” He quickly thanks the waitress before turning around.

“Wait.” She calls out, making him turn around.

“If I can bother you to check on them right now, I'm worried. If you do stop over there please take this.” she walks past him to the front counter, grabbing a bag.

“I had intended to give this to them since they didn't eat the whole time. They refused, however.” The waitress hands Kaeya the bag of food and he nods.

“Of course, I was planning on stopping by. Thank you for your concern."He thanks her, turning to leave the restaurant. The waitress can see how uneasy Kaeya was from his face, she knows that you were waiting for him all along. When you got up to leave, in your drunken state you told her to tell Kaeya you went home and not to worry.

Kaeya steps out and the cold night air hits him. Did you walk home without your coat? It's freezing. Kayea feels even worse.

His legs walk at such a fast pace, not daring to slow down.

Did you make it home safe? Are you ok? Why did you leave alone?

He starts to run, almost sprint. His mind is racing with the worst.

He turns the corner to your house and stops in his tracks. He sees you. However, you’re not inside the house. You're sitting on the porch leaning on the wall. It's freezing.

His legs move fast again. He drops to his knees when he makes it to you. Grabbing hold of your arms to wake you.

You're freezing to the touch.

“Darling? Hey.” he shakes you a bit and you stir from your sleep, blinking your eyes.

“-ts so cold.” you whisper.

In seconds you feel a coat draping over your shoulders, then a soft fabric around your neck.

Your vision clears and your eyes make out who's in front of you.

Your eyes immediately begin to burn.

“Hey hey, love I’m so sorry please don't cry. I promise I didn’t mean to forget my love, things just happened and it slipped my mind.” He pulls you in when he sees your eyes glossy. His own eyes start to burn.

“Archons, why are you sleeping outside? Do you understand how dangerous that is?” He questions, pulling back a bit seeing you now refusing to look at him.

“I-it was so embarrassing. I sat there while so many people walked in and out. I saw you with someone else and it looked like you were having fun. I was a-alone for hours. I left the restaurant and I left my k-key in the coat of my jacket.” You feel your lip tremble a bit, you’re trying your absolute hardest to not cry but he’s standing right in front of you looking so guilty it hurts.

“That person you saw with me was a subordinate, I wasn’t doing anything else with them while I was out. I was ordered to take them to the tavern to get grape juice to get rid of the effects from a potion they had gotten exposed to. Love, please.” He explains, tone serious as his hands run up and down your shoulders, making you feel warm again.

“It wasn’t my intention.” His whispers, hand coming up under your chin making you look at him.

“Never ever walk home alone again. Not in this state.” He pleads, face full of concern, his eye scanning you making your own eyes burn more.

You notice his white scarf is gone then look down, realizing that’s what he put around you when he found you here.

“I just wanted to s-spend time with you.” You hiccup tears now freely falling down.

He leans in, kissing your cheek, then your other one, up to your forehead, your nose, your chin and stops in front of your lips. You feel his warm breath fan over you and you relax at his simple touch.

“My love, please don’t cry.” His eyes close and he takes a deep breath. He was so worried but you're in front of him, you’re safe with him.

“You have me, I’ll spend as much time as you want until my time is due I promise.” He leans back abit, opening his eye taking you in.

You look tired, you drank and you never do. He put you in this state and it pains him.

“You promise? You promise me i-I’m not thinking the worst, that you still want me and you’ll stay with me?” You ask.

Kaeya doesn’t respond, he leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Hands holding you softly as he gives you another one, and another and another until you're out of breath.

“I swear to the archons above that I want nothing more than to call you mine alway and forever if you’ll allow me.” He pulls back, thumbs wiping any remaining tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

And they do, more spill out. Having your doubts and feeling insecure gets to you often but Kaeya is so patient, so understanding. Him assuring you, being here right now, apologizing proves he meant no wrong. And you believe him, you trust him. You know he wouldn’t do that now, him being here proves so.

“Darling, let’s get you inside, it's freezing.” He stands, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. Placing his hand on the small of your back when you wobble.

“I’ll explain everything better, in full detail of what happened today once you're inside, once you eat, I promise love.” He assures you still holding onto you, not wanting to let go just yet. You nod, holding his hand abit tighter as he unlocks the door to your shared house, ushering you to walk in first. Seeing him this worried, him running here when he realized he forgot. He found you and immediately checked on you. You have doubts often, but seeing him right here cleared any doubts about today. You will listen to what he has to say and believe him because he’s here that’s all that matters right now. Kaeya is here, he’s yours and you won’t doubt him. Not when he looks at you with such loving eyes and holds you so gently, not when he cares so much. He’s here and that’s all that matters now, but most importantly Kaeya didn’t forget.

_________________

author’s note: hiiii lovelies!!! :D it’s been ages since I’ve posted UGH IVE MISSED WRITING SM! :( I’m sorry for the small hiatus. I wasn’t ok but it’s better now, I notice when I feel the most hurt or pain I write the most it helps me convey what I feel and I love writing, you all giving feedback and enjoying them makes me love writing too! I hope you enjoy, I hope you’re taking care and all in good health MWAHHHH IVE MISSES YOU ALL SO MUCH!^~^<33! (ALSO THIS ISNT EDITED so sorry for any errors!)

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

─── ⋆⋅ these  are  my  personal  observations  and  may  not  resonate  with  everyone. i’m  not  a  professional  astrologer,  so  take  this  with  a  grain  of  salt!   ⋅⋆ ───

✮ for  example,  abel  "the  weeknd"  has  his  sun  in  the  8th  house,  meaning  his  identity  is  deeply  shaped  by  8th  house  themes.  sexuality,  taboo,  transformation,  and  the  darker  aspects  of  life  like  addiction.  his  sense  of  self  goes  through  constant  cycles  of  death  and  rebirth,  which  is  reflected  in  his  artistic  persona.  his  entire  career  has  been  about  shedding  old  versions  of  himself  and  evolving  into  something  new,  embodying  the  essence  of  transformation  with  each  reinvention. 

✧˖°.₊  ♡  ✩˚  ༘

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 1H ﹑ ﹒ there's  no  mistaking  who  you  are.  your  sense  of  self  is  bold,  and  it  shows  up  in  everything  you  do.  you  don't  need  to  try  too  hard  to  get  noticed  because  your  energy  speaks  for  itself.  people  are  naturally  drawn  to  you,  not  because  you're  seeking  attention,  but  because  you're  unapologetically  yourself.  your  presence  is  magnetic;  you  don’t  blend  in,  you  stand  out  without  even  trying.  your  identity  is  the  foundation  of  everything.  how  you  walk,  how  you  talk,  how  you  carry  yourself.  it's  not  about  fitting  into  anyone  else’s  mold;  you  define  yourself.  you  don't  rely  on  the  opinions  of  others  to  shape  who  you  are.  you  create  your  own  narrative,  and  it  shines  through  effortlessly.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 2H ﹑ ﹒ you're  the  kind  of  person  who  feels  most  like  themselves  when  they're  surrounded  by  the  things  they've  earned.  your  sense  of  identity  is  tied  up  in  your  ability  to  provide,  whether  that’s  through  what  you  own  or  the  skills  you’ve  built.  you  want  to  be  seen  as  someone  who  has  it  together.  independent,  capable,  and  solid.  the  way  you  present  yourself  to  the  world  speaks  volumes  about  how  you  see  your  own  worth,  and  often,  that  comes  down  to  what  you’ve  got.  it  could  be  the  way  you  dress,  with  clothes  that  make  you  feel  confident  or  convey  your  value,  or  the  quiet  confidence  you  carry  with  you  every  day.  when  you're  able  to  show  off  what  you've  worked  for  or  prove  your  talents,  that’s  when  you  feel  most  alive.  success  isn’t  just  something  you  want,  it’s  how  you  define  yourself.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 3H ﹑ ﹒ you  come  alive  in  conversation.  your  identity  clicks  when  you're  communicating,  whether  it's  through  words,  ideas,  or  just  bouncing  thoughts  around  with  others.  the  way  you  express  yourself.  whether  chatting,  writing,  or  sharing  opinions.  is  where  you  find  your  flow.  there's  pride  in  being  heard,  in  getting  across  exactly  what  you're  thinking.  your  sense  of  self  grows  through  interaction,  and  you’re  at  your  best  when  you’re  speaking  your  truth.  talking  might  even  be  a  go-to  for  you;  it’s  your  natural  rhythm.  the  people  closest  to  you.  siblings,  neighbors,  friends.  shape  how  you  present  your  thoughts,  and  your  surroundings  play  a  huge  part  in  how  you  express  yourself.  you  might  also  feel  more  comfortable  communicating  online,  finding  new  ways  to  get  your  voice  out  there.  it’s  all  about  connection  for  you.  what  you  say,  who  you  say  it  to,  and  how  they  respond.  that's  where  you  find  your  true  self.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 4H ﹑ ﹒ your  sense  of  who  you  are  is  rooted  in  your  family  and  home  life.  the  foundation  of  your  identity  is  built  on  the  past.  how  you  were  raised,  the  place  that  made  you  feel  safe,  and  the  people  who  shaped  your  view  of  the  world.  your  home  isn’t  just  a  space;  it’s  a  reflection  of  you,  your  memories,  and  your  emotional  landscape.  you  might  present  a  different  side  of  yourself  at  home  than  you  do  out  in  the  world,  preferring  privacy  and  staying  close  to  those  you  trust.  vulnerability  becomes  part  of  your  self-expression,  especially  with  family  or  those  who  feel  like  family.  you  might  carry  your  family’s  legacy  with  pride,  honoring  their  cultural  background  in  how  you  express  yourself.  whether  it’s  through  the  way  you  connect  with  your  mother  or  other  parental  figures,  these  relationships  impact  how  you  feel  and  show  up  emotionally.  your  roots  run  deep,  and  they  have  a  lasting  influence  on  the  way  you  express  your  truest  self.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 5H ﹑ ﹒ you're  at  your  most  ''you''  when  you're  in  the  flow  of  creation  or  love.  there's  something  magnetic  about  you  when  you're  caught  up  in  art,  spontaneity,  or  just  having  fun.  whether  it’s  getting  lost  in  a  project  or  falling  headfirst  into  romance,  your  sense  of  self  is  wrapped  up  in  what  excites  you.  you’ve  got  this  playful,  almost  carefree  vibe,  constantly  chasing  new  adventures  or  creative  sparks.  your  identity  is  tied  to  how  much  you  give  and  receive  love.  it’s  like  your  heart  has  to  be  in  it  for  you  to  truly  feel  alive.  whether  you're  creating,  loving,  or  just  having  a  good  time,  that’s  when  you  feel  the  most  authentic.  relationships  with  kids  or  creative  ventures  could  shape  you  in  ways  you  didn’t  expect,  adding  color  and  depth  to  who  you  are.  you're  at  your  best  when  you're  diving  into  what  brings  you  joy  and  injects  energy  into  your  life.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 6H ﹑ ﹒ your  sense  of  self  is  rooted  in  the  rhythms  of  daily  life,  the  care  you  give  to  your  body,  and  the  mental  clarity  you  cultivate.  helping  others  find  balance  or  improve  their  well-being  is  where  you  feel  the  most  fulfilled.  your  purpose  comes  alive  through  service.  work  becomes  a  form  of  self-expression  for  you,  especially  when  you’re  checking  off  tasks  and  creating  order  in  the  chaos.  how  you  take  care  of  yourself  is  a  direct  reflection  of  who  you  are.  whether  it’s  through  exercise,  healthy  eating,  or  a  peaceful  routine  of  yoga  and  meditation,  your  health  is  a  foundation  for  your  identity.  you  may  find  a  sense  of  alignment  in  activities  that  help  others  or  the  planet,  like  supporting  causes  or  connecting  with  animals.  being  around  pets  or  nature  can  ground  you  and  remind  you  of  what  truly  matters.  they  can  help  you  feel  more  ‘’you’’

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 7H ﹑ ﹒ your  identity  is  a  reflection  of  the  people  you  surround  yourself  with.  whether  it’s  a  romantic  partner,  business  collaborator,  or  your  inner  circle,  relationships  are  where  you  discover  and  express  who  you  really  are.  you  thrive  in  partnerships,  finding  your  balance  through  shared  connections,  and  you  have  a  natural  ability  to  make  things  feel  fair  and  harmonious.  your  true  self  shines  brightest  when  you're  in  sync  with  someone  else,  whether  emotionally,  intellectually,  or  both.  being  seen  and  understood  by  others  feeds  into  your  self-expression,  and  the  way  your  closest  relationships  perceive  you  can  shape  how  you  present  yourself.  your  worth  feels  more  tangible  when  it’s  mirrored  back  by  those  who  matter  most  to  you.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 8H ﹑ ﹒ you’re  all  about  transformation.  your  sense  of  self  isn’t  static;  it  evolves  through  deep,  sometimes  intense  experiences.  you're  not  the  type  to  show  up  in  shallow  ways. you  come  across  as  enigmatic,  layered,  or  even  a  bit  mysterious.  your  true  self  is  unveiled  in  meaningful,  intimate  and  sexual  connections,  and  you  tend  to  hold  back  until  you're  certain.  once  you  do  open  up,  it’s  raw,  real,  and  unguarded.  the  relationships  you  have,  especially  the  deeply  personal  ones,  can  shape  and  reshape  how  you  view  yourself.  they  act  as  mirrors,  reflecting  parts  of  you  that  you  may  not  have  known  existed.  change  is  inevitable  for  you,  often  sparked  by  those  close  to  you.  some  parts  of  you  stay  hidden,  shared  only  with  those  who  truly  understand.  there’s  a  pull  toward  exploring  the  taboo,  the  unspoken,  and  the  unconventional.  breaking  through  boundaries  and  challenging  limits  as  your  sense  of  self  is   evolving.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 9H ﹑ ﹒ you’re  at  your  best  when  you’re  expanding  your  mind  and  exploring  what’s  beyond  the  familiar.  your  identity  is  built  on  the  need  to  learn,  grow,  and  break  out  of  your  comfort  zone.  whether  it’s  through  traveling,  studying  diverse  philosophies,  or  diving  into  new  belief  systems,  you  express  who  you  are  when  you’re  on  a  journey  for  deeper  understanding.  you  come  alive  in  moments  of  discovery,  whether  that  means  exploring  a  new  culture,  reading  something  that  shifts  your  thinking,  or  connecting  with  people  who  broaden  your  worldview.  pushing  boundaries  and  challenging  your  own  perspectives  is  where  you  thrive.  you  might  even  find  fulfillment  in  teaching,  sharing  your  discoveries,  and  helping  others  see  the  world  through  your  eyes.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 10H ﹑ ﹒ your  identity  is  tied  up  in  what  you  achieve  and  how  the  world  sees  you.  you  express  who  you  are  through  your  ambitions,  your  career,  and  the  way  you  show  up  in  public  life.  status  and  recognition  matter  to  you,  and  you  feel  the  most  like  yourself  when  you’re  hitting  big  milestones.  how  you  present  yourself  in  the  workplace  or  public  eye  says  a  lot  about  who  you  are.  it’s  not  just  about  what  you  do,  but  how  others  perceive  it.  you  thrive  when  you’re  respected  for  your  efforts,  and  your  sense  of  self  often  peaks  when  you’re  acknowledged  for  your  hard  work  and  authority.  for  you,  the  spotlight  is  a  natural  extension  of  your  true  self,  and  it’s  in  these  moments  that  you  really  shine.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 11H ﹑ ﹒ your  sense  of  who  you  are  is  often  tied  to  the  people  you  surround  yourself  with.  whether  it’s  a  tight-knit  group  or  an  online  community,  your  identity  thrives  in  connection  with  others.  you  find  meaning  in  belonging  to  something  bigger.  you  express  yourself  through  your  interactions,  the  values  you  share,  and  the  impact  you  have  on  those  around  you.  social  spaces  are  where  you  truly  come  alive,  especially  when  you’re  surrounded  by  people  who  push  you  to  think  bigger  or  differently.  your  self-image  is  shaped  by  the  way  you’re  seen  in  these  groups,  and  you  might  shift  your  expression  to  fit  the  vibe.  you’re  drawn  to  progressive  and  unconventional  ideas.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. SUN IN 12H ﹑ ﹒  your  sense  of  self  isn’t  something  that’s  easily  seen  or  understood.  it’s  more  like  a  quiet  presence,  something  that  only  fully  reveals  itself  in  private  moments.  you’re  not  one  to  wear  your  identity  for  everyone  to  see.  instead,  it’s  like  you’re  a  puzzle,  and  the  pieces  slowly  come  together  in  ways  that  others  might  miss.  you  prefer  to  keep  things  close  to  the  chest,  revealing  bits  of  yourself  only  when  it  feels  right.  your  expression  often  comes  through  in  the  things  that  are  personal  and  hidden.  like  your  thoughts,  your  art,  or  the  inner  work  that  no  one  else  witnesses.  you’re  not  driven  by  the  need  for  attention;  your  identity  feels  more  like  a  private  discovery,  something  you’re  always  learning  about  and  refining  in  solitude.  it’s  in  the  quiet  spaces,  away  from  the  world’s  gaze,  where  you  truly  find  and  express  who  you  are.

[erenjaegerwifee]

Summers In Pandora 🌸 Day 10 - Lactation 

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Neteyam can’t help but love how full you are now that your breastfeeding his son.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, explicit language, lactation kink, slight pregnancy kink, established relationship.

Word Count: 4.2k

Index: kelku - house, kalin - sweet, muntxate - wife, muntxatan - husband.

Disclaimer: All of my characters are aged up! If that bothers you feel free to scroll and do not interact with my account or my of my post. I apologize for the wait but I do intend to finish this master list, please bear with me guys this is a long one.

Main M.List | Event M.List

It hasn’t been very long since you left the healer's kelku, a month, maybe two. Honestly, you weren’t sure, your sense of time was messed up, along with your sleep schedule. You had just given birth to your first baby boy. You and your mate, Neteyam were beyond excited. Everything felt like a dream, ever since you found out you were pregnant.

It wasn’t long after you mated either, you come to learn neteyam is a very active man, He wanted it no matter what time of day. You remembered tons of times before you moved into the kelku neteyam built for you both, when you lived together at his parents, no matter what time he got to put it down on you he did, not that it was anything for you to complain about. He never disappointed you.

It's safe to say everything is very different now, new baby, new kelku, and a new routine which was definitely something to get used to. Neteyam was a very big help and still is when it comes to the baby, and just generally everything else. He makes it a point to remind you how grateful he is for giving him the most amazing gift he could have ever received, his son. Not to mention all the other children he wants you to have for him as soon as your good and ready to start bouncing on his cock again.

Truthfully, you had already expressed the want and need to have sex, you believe your body has adjusted well in the past couple months, your once round stomach had gone back down to before you had started showing already, your hips had gotten slightly wider but you can’t say you didn’t like them, and your breast.

Your breast had swollen into balloons from their once small size. You had never complained about them before but now, you can’t imagine looking at yourself in the mirror and not seeing this new addition to your body. It’s not fat which make them firm and perky. You simply loved them. You learned early on in your pregnancy that your son may breastfeed for about a year maybe even longer. So, you were definitely going to get used to how this looks.

You aren’t the only one who seems to like how pretty and full your heavy tits are, your mate certainly enjoys the view, and he makes no move to hide it. Neteyam loves sneaking glimpses and light touches on your skin, he’s so soft when it comes to you like he’s holding himself back. You can feel it when his hands are on your body, like he doesn’t want to hurt you which only makes you want him even more.

You can’t count the amount of time neteyam has gotten distracted watching your tits. Whether you're just sitting in front of him or moving around all your words go in one ear and out the other. You tend to have to repeat yourself more often. You can say you dislike the way he looks at you, it really makes you feel good about yourself and your body how attracted he is to you, you want nothing more than for him to just fuck another baby into you every time he looks at you like that.

His eyes appear darker somehow and his tail lashing slowly, almost sensually. His head tilts just slightly and his brain goes on autopilot answering you without listening, sometimes his hand even runs down to his cock over his tweng and he lightly strokes it as if to find some relief. You want to give him some relief but anytime you approach him with the need for sex he tells you he doesn’t want to hurt you, that you are fragile now after birth and he doesn’t want to put you in any discomfort.

It was late at night now, Neteyam had gone on a hunting trip with his brother and father something they did often, he’s a bit later than usual but you think nothing of it. He always comes home. You didn’t hear him at first. You sat in the rocking hammock in front of the fireplace that was a couple feet away from your bed. You had a view of the front entrance, but you were focus on your baby boy. He laid so peacefully in your arms, but his eyes were wide open as you sang your song cord to him softly while rocking. This was normally how he ended his night, sleeping peacefully in your arms before you transfer him to his cot next to the bed you and Neteyam sleep on.

Behind you but the makeshift stove water boiled as you prepared tea for Neteyam’s return. You had grown to realize how much he appreciated all you did to help him wind down at the end of the day after a long day like today. As he entered the kelku, his eyes immediately searched for you both. When he did find you, he couldn’t help but be in awe of how relaxed you looked, he took in the way you body was so cozied up in the hammock with you blanket and how his son was wrapped up in your arms taking in all your love.

Slowly you shift to stand up to walk over to the stove and then you see him, standing against the door frame his gaze was on you but you could see the tiredness melt as you light up at him, “Ma Teyam, you are home” you smile sweetly. He mirrored your smile leaning his bow up against the wall next to the makeshift door and entering. His steps were soft but not slow as came straight at you, “how was your day baby?”

One of your hands moved from around your son closer to him as he stepped forward, his hand reached for yours as he stood in front of you and you hand ran up his arm to his muscular bicep.

“It was a successful hunt...but I missed you kalin” Neteyam said softly, and you could just feel yourself melt. His gaze drifted down to the small baby on your arms, “we missed you too, didn’t we” I giggle and raise our son up slightly. I lean in and up kissing Neteyam on his check, our baby who was situated between us cooed slightly at the closeness, he knew his father well.

Neteyam took him out of your arms, and you smiled at the sweet sight before going to finish up preparing the tea for him. Neteyam had moved to sit where you once were in the hammock and softly played with his son. Your carry over to cup to him and slotted yourself next to him bigger frame. Your body was pressed against his as you leaned into his warmth in the cold night.

“Tey, he needs to go to bed” you giggle as you look down at your son in his arms, “and he has to nurse.” Neteyam handed him over and wrapped his arms around you to hold you both close to him, “tell me about your day kalin” he kisses your head softly as you adjust yourself to breast feed. “Let’s see, we went for a walk this morning into the village to see your grandmother and Kiri, we picked up some fruit from the harvest station then we came back and took and bath and a long, long nap and- can you untie me top?” You spoke softly and leaned up for Neteyam to help you.

“Absolutely” he teased with a smile as his fingers made quick work of removing your top you sigh in relief as the fabric shifts off and falls and he removes it tossing it somewhere behind you. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be naked and free in your shared home, but you only normally did it when Neteyam was home. “Sounds like you both had quiet the day” he smiled as his eyes darted down to your now exposed chest.

“We did it was eventful” you smile softly. You heard the shift in his tone, you know he’s looking down at your chest, you know he wants you. Your son latched onto your breast and suckled away hungrily. Neteyam’s arm draped lazily over your shoulder his fingers drew small patterns on your skin. His other hand that rested on your thigh moved up towards your stomach splaying on the entire span of it, as if he was still in awe of what your body has done.

You smile without looking at him, “you’re staring”

He huffs a quiet laugh, his breath warm against the skin of your shoulder, “And?”

Your glance up at him amusement dancing in your eyes, “and you always do”

Neteyam doesn’t deny it, instead he shifts impossibly closer his lips brush the side of your neck, “I can’t help it” he murmurs.

The hand that was on your shoulder shifted around your chest holding you close to him, and he lightly brushed over your skin, over the top of your breast. By now your son had fallen asleep but you still felt him suckling so you didn’t pull away. Neteyam’s touch lit fire in you, so you took a deep breath.

You glance up at him softly, “Neteyam…”

His gaze doesn’t meet yours; it stays on your nursing son. You can see the look in his eyes a mix of love and devotion, and something darker, something restrained. His voice was low and rough, “you’re incredible” his thumb idly stroked your skin, “strong and beautiful. I watch you with him and all I can think about is how much I love you”

You swallow, your heartbeat picking up. There’s no rush in his touch, no urgency—just warmth, quiet admiration, but underneath it, you can feel the tension. The barely contained desire.

You shift, slightly pressing yourself into him, “is that all you think about?”

Neteyam pulled your son’s day cot closer and takes him out of your arms, his mouth detached as he places in into the cot and settles him to sleep before pushing it back where it was, still within view but not right next to you. His attach is brought back to you immediately and he takes you in. Your hair was slightly a mess from leaning onto him, blush scattered on your pretty face. And your chest, rising up and down, where your son was previously attached against your nipple milk dripped slowly from the harden nub. Neteyam almost lost it.

He slotted himself back into the position he was in holding you impossibly close to him. His voice was hushed, thick with something unspoken, “no…. that’s not all I think about” how lips graze the shell of your ear.

A slow, knowing smile tugs at your lips, you tilt hour head slightly, just enough to feel the heat of his breath on your skin, “then what else?” You whispered into the air.

His fingers shift, the ones on your stomach shift lower and the on your chest as well, slowly he cups one side of your full breast, “fuck…” you whisper as he slowly kissing your neck and his other hand toys with the tie of your tweng. “I think about how full you are, how soft… how perfect you feel in my arms kalin”

The weight of his word settling deep inside you. Neteyam has never been one to hide his feelings from you but this is different, “you give out son everything, I can’t stop thinking about it, how much of a perfect mother you are, best thing I ever did for you was give you a baby…I just wanna show you how much I appreciate it.” He unties your tweng now but doesn’t pull it off, it just sits loose on your hips.

Your voice was teasing, but soft, “you sound almost jealous”

Neteyam let out a low chuckle, pressing his face in the crook of your neck, “maybe I am” he inhaled deeply, “maybe I just miss the taste of my sweet muntxate.”

You let out a sweet sigh after you hear his soft words, you always liked it when he called you that, a habit he developed before you were even mated officially, “I have been trying to give you a taste muntxatan, you one the one who keeps turning me down.”

You feel his warmth breath on your skin, “I am trying to remind myself to be patient.”

You let out a soft giggle, "Patience was never your strong suit when it came to me.”

Neteyam huffed softly, “I do not want to hurt you, you are sensitive... so sensitive and healing and I…” he cut himself off, his eyes were glued to your perky tits.

“You could never hurt me” you bit your lip looking up at him softly. You could always hear the way Neteyam growled and stuffed his face back into your neck taking a deep inhale of your scent. “I missed you so much baby...” he whispered as he nibbled on the lobe of your ear sweetly.

“Let me make you feel good…” his hand that was on your stomach moved down until he slotted his fingers between your thighs under your tweng. He felt the way your thighs squeezed around his hand, but he was more distracted but the slick the coated the outside of your core, almost dripping onto the hammock below. You gasp softly and your mouth remained open as you leaned into him, his fingers found your clit and started rubbing small circles.

It’s been so long since he touched you like this you almost forgot his amazing it felt when he treated you like this. “Nete...” you whispered into the air as your head rocked back onto his shoulder. His other hand that tightened around your perky tits and you started to drop milk.

Neteyam almost lost it when he saw that. “They’re always so full now, so soft and heavy…” he whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about them” his fingers brushed against the harden nipple and you shuttered under his touch from the sensitivity. “So fucking sensitive, I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands off you for so long…off these pretty full tits”

His words make you moan softly into the air as he softly played with your body, “you know I watch you feed him and it…stirs something in me I don’t know how to describe it, pride...need”

He exhales deeply as his hand on my chest cups and squeezes it again, “I know they are for him, but I can’t lie kalin…I want them too”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “because they are full?”

He leaned in and whispered in your ear softly, “because they are yours”

His words send shivers up your spine, he didn’t waste much time after that his arms shifted turning your entire body around by lifting you up and settling you on his lap, straddling his thighs. His arms wrapped around you bringing you in closer to him. Your tweng had fallen when he lifted you leaving you completely exposed on his lap.

Neteyam could help but admire the state he had you in, hair messy, purple blush spreading down your neck just deep on your cheeks, your chest messy with milk dripping from your garden nipples as they rise and fall as if he had knocked all the air out of your lungs. You were fucked out before he even fucked you.

“You want them too” you whisper to him. He nodded softly as his hands started to explore your body as if he’d never touched you before. His hands moved quickly touching as much skin as he could from your thighs to your hips up to your neck. Neteyam was gripping you so much he involuntarily moved you around on his lap dragging your bare clit over his cock that was covered by his tweng.

Only now you realized he’s still fully clothed. Neteyam loved having you like this with him, it always turned him on how much you trusted him with your body. “Yea baby I do” he matched your tone.

You leaned down and kissed him your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you, his hands still moving all over your body pulled you in as well. Your hands slot through his braids as he moves his hot mouth down to your neck leaving deep purple marks in his wake. He moves downwards towards your chest licking and sucking at the milk stained skin, “you taste so sweet baby” neteyam moans.

Neteyam wasn’t much of a noise maker, he’d grunt here and there during sex but other that his sweet words he’d whisper to you about how good you were to him when he fucked you, he never really moaned. You felt your eyes roll back when he took one of your leaking hard nipples in his mouth making you moan in unison. His tongue rolled around your nipple, flicking it up and down as he enjoyed your sensitivity.

His actions had you shuttering, rubbing your body against him, even grinding down on his covered hard on. Neteyam felt like his cock was gonna explode from how hard it was, he swore in this moment he could cum untouched. “F-fuckkk nete!” You throw your head back shivering slightly.

His next move was something you didn’t expect, he latched onto you nipple and started sucking. It felt so much different from when your son did it you don’t know. Your eyes shoot open, and you let out a squeal before you started panting heavily. “You’re so good for me muntxate…you taste so…so good”

His words come out in pants, he didn’t wanna stop to talk to you but he wanted to tell you how good you were for him, letting him touch you like this, trusting him with something so intimate he loved it, he loved you.

Your breathing picked up making it hard for you to catch your breath as he moved onto you other nipple, following the same steps you felt like he’s suck you dry, you almost wondered if you’d have enough to feed you son when he wakes up in a couple hours.

“N-nete…ah” you moan not being able to form much words. Your slick was leaking between your legs, soaking his tweng. Your finger quickly ran down any part of his body you could reach looking for the knot holding his tweng together. You quickly untie it basically tacking at the fabric to get it off which make him chuckle against your skin.

Eventually you do get it off raising yourself up to rip the fabric away from his body, accidentally disconnecting your nipple from his mouth. You heard him make a small whine of protest before his cock shoots up hitting the skin below his belly button. It make you giggle seeing him so needy for you, just like he always liked seeing you get all hot and horny for him.

Neteyam was a sight to take in you almost forgot what you were doing when you looking up at him. A purple blush covered his cheeks as he took quick deep breaths to help him catch his breath. His hair was messy you’d definitely need to rebrand it in the morning before he left for training, and his mouth, oh his mouth leaked milk, to say Neteyam looked drunk off you was an understatement. Your sweet syrup dripped from his lips, and he darted his tongue out to catch it, he didn’t want to waste it. “Come back baby ‘m not done” his voice was low as his hands gripped your wrist pulling your chest back to his mouth.

Your hands stopped him resting in his chest and pushing him away, “fuck me..fuck me and I’ll give you all the milk you want” your voice was soft and needy, you didn’t mean to sound so desperate for cock but you couldn’t help it, it’s been months now since he put his cock down on you.

Neteyam rocked his head back with a laugh, “oh baby, your gonna keep it from me if I don’t fuck you?” His sweet tone made you bite your lip, “you know you like it, doesn’t it feel good?” He pulled you in slightly whispering.

“Y-yes but I want you to fuck me…I miss you, I miss your cock! Please…please Nete…I’ll give you all the milk I have” you bit your lip hoping to convince him. You knew Neteyam could only deny you so long. You knew he wanted this as much as you did.

“Fuck okay..” he whispered as he raised your body you lining you up with his harden cock. The stretch was beautiful your eyes rolled so far back you thought you started seeing through the back of your head. It felt amazing. You moaned loudly as he fully sat your down on him. His grip on your body was tight, it’s been so long since he fucked you, and even after you just brought his baby into the world, your still so tight.

Neteyam didn’t waste anymore time immediately dropping his head down to your harden, wet nipples. He suckled against them as you grinned on his cock inside you, you were making yourself come on him and he couldn’t be happier. It did take you a second to get used to his size but in a matter of less than a minute you couldn’t wait to use him to get off.

It didn’t take long for you to release the first time, he practically built you up, especially with all the sucking against your sensitive nubs. By the time Neteyam was finished with the one side your nipples we’re purple and sore, the feeling of his tongue reminded after he pulled away, “you came baby, you got one more in you? I want you to cum again” his lips felt hot against your neck as he spoke. You felt your body drop in tiredness but you didn’t wanna give up the opportunity of getting fucked so easily. You wanted him to make you cum until you fell asleep.

So, you nod desperately letting him know you’ll do it again, your ready to cum on his cock again. He let out a small chuckle at your completely fucked out response but he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy watching you like this. His hands came down to grip your slim waist as he started to move you up and down on his hard cock.

“Oh great mother..” you whisper into the air was he bounced you up and down, gradually he increased his speed and grip. Your tits bounced in his face and every time he slammed you down onto his lap your tits would squirt a few drops of milk like you were shaking a bottle that was almost empty. His tongue caught your other nipple, flicking at it as you moved up and down. His teeth grazed it before he bit down sending your tail lashing about knocking over and few small things behind you, but you didn’t have the time to care.

“Ffuckkk Teyyyyy!” You dragged out the nickname you called him, “gonna cum, gonna cum!” You started repeating over and over each time getting louder until you were cuming hard around his cock. You clenched down on him making him moan against your skin and suck harder. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his arms as your tried to stabilize yourself.

“Fuck yea baby just like that” Neteyam said against your skin. He eventually slowed his movements until he came to a stop and pulled you off his cock quickly. You protested not wanting to lose the fullness so fast but when you did realize what he was doing you didn’t protest.

Neteyam put you on your knees in front of him admiring all the purple bruises he left on your skin, the fucked-out expression on your face, “gonna make me cum now kalin?” He said softly but you heard him.you didn’t much process what was happening until he slotted his wet cock between your tits bringing your hands up to squeeze them together around him. The section made you leak milk even more and it ran down your fingertips to his thighs.

He didn’t care much about the mess he always liked it messy when he fucked you. You started to lift your chest up and down on him sticking your tongue out to touch his tip when it came up to your mouth. Neteyam was loving the sight, his pretty wife in her knees messy and sweet all for him, it was gonna make him cum fast.

“Fuck muntxate…” neteyam moaned, “so fucking warm and pretty fuckkkk” he was losing it. His head rolled back with a moan as your tongue circled his head tasting yourself on him, “oh eywa I’m gonna cum…make me cum muntxate” his voice was strained, one hand gripped your hair and the other gripping your upper arm as he started thrusting harder.

He came quickly after that with just a few hard thrust spraying his cum all over your face and chest. Everything was messy, everything was sweet, even the smell of the room wasn’t normal it was mixed with the smell of your sweet milk.

You let go of your tits which released his cock, still standing hard Neteyam swipes his cum off your eyes so you could see him, “I’m not done baby” he stroked his hard cock in your face, you were in for a long night.

🌸 I hope everyone enjoys reading this! It is a bit messy and not proofread so I do hope I didn’t leave anything out or make any mistakes. I would like to thank you all for you patience and I promise I will finish this master list! If you would like to be added to the tag list, comment below or private message me!

🌸Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated and any feedback is welcomed!

Taglist: 

@rivatar @delusionalwh6re @strongheartneteyam @xylianasblog @nilahsstuff @inlovewithpandora @neteyamsoare @m1tsu-ki @xrollingmyeyesx @goofygremlin123 @quicktosimp @winterhi09 @r11k4 @teyamsgrl @teymars @kylimarz @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @unholycheesesnack @pandoraslxna @pandorxxx @majestickitty @plantgirliewholovespandora @thisaintredwine @kodzuminx @avatarobsessedgirly @kdacase @dayyzlol @beautifulglitterwombat @finnickswifeeee @shikiinkm @spideyweirdo @bakugoswaif @blue-sadie @angelita-uchiha @wawauwe @himikoquack @inutheangel @tallulah477 @wheneclipsefalls @astraule @mayhemories @neteyam-444 @eywaite @tiredmamaissy @moonlightsolo @l0velysmut @torukmaktoskxawng

[kxsagi]

Good morning, kxsagi. So I read the 'Holding You Together' one shot and it got me thinking. In a household who favors sons over daughters, Reader is ordered to go out to work after high school graduation to support the family by her parents. And, in the meantime, her brother just lounges at home and is also living off Reader's salary. Still the same characters in the 'Holding You Together' one shot, please. Thanks

“𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤”

a/n: good morning! 

oh how i love MEN 

additional note: dear readers, please cut off contact with anyone that treats you like this, especially if you’re of legal age, it doesn’t matter if they’re family do what’s best for you! i care about you! 

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei

isagi yoichi

when you first bring it up, it’s casual. like you don’t even realize how unfair it is. “i’ve been working full-time since i graduated. most of it goes home – my brother needs it, and my parents said it’s my duty, you know?” 

isagi freezes mid-bite of his food. he looks at you like the entire match just paused. “wait… your brother needs it? what about you?” 

the more you explain, the darker his expression gets. he’s not loud about it, he’s heartbreak in slow motion. it’s the soft, “that’s not okay” whispered between your words. it’s the way he squeezes your hand tighter as you try to shrug it off like it’s normal. 

“you’ve been carrying all of that by yourself?” he says one night when you come home exhausted, collapsing into his arms. “i’m not gonna let them keep draining you like this. you’re not alone anymore.” 

he’ll start subtly helping at first – budgeting with you, sending you groceries, helping you put money into a savings account with your name on it. 

but if he ever meets your parents or your brother? oh, he’ll be polite, but with eyes that scream you don’t deserve her. his respect for them vanished the moment he realized how much you’ve suffered under their expectations.

itoshi rin

you bring it up like it’s not a big deal. “i just wish my brother would help out, but my parents think it’s more important he focuses on himself right now.” 

rin stares at you. for so long that you actually start getting nervous. then: “you’re joking, right?” 

his voice is low, controlled, but something about it sends chills. like he’s using every ounce of willpower not to explode. 

“so you work. you sacrifice. and he just… lives off you?” 

rin’s silent for a moment, then mutters, “fucking unbelievable.” 

he starts researching ways to help you become independent without you even asking. offers to help you move out. offers to co-sign on apartments. he’s not the type to force you into anything, but his message is clear: i will help you break free, no matter how long it takes. 

and if your brother dares to talk down to you, even in passing? rin’s ready to fight. he doesn’t raise his voice. he doesn’t need to. “you talk to her like that again, and we’ll have a problem. she’s worth more than every lazy second you’ve wasted.” 

he won’t say “i love you” often. but he’ll say: “you deserve better. and i’ll keep proving that to you until you believe it.”

itoshi sae

sae’s reaction is ice cold. 

“you’re paying for everything?” he asks quietly, brows raised. “and your brother does what exactly?” 

there’s this soft scoff under his breath, followed by an exhale through his nose. the kind he gives when someone really, really disappoints him. 

“your family needs a reality check,” he says. “and i’m happy to be the one who gives it to them.” 

he doesn’t argue or yell. he just acts. he’ll offer to support you financially, but only if it means you’re investing in yourself. school, hobbies, your dreams – he wants to help you get back everything they stole from you in the name of “duty.” 

he watches you carefully every time you mention your family. the subtle anxiety. the automatic guilt. he hates that they’ve conditioned you to feel this way. 

one day he says, quietly but firmly: “they treat you like you’re disposable. like your love and effort are a given. but i don’t. you don’t owe them your life. you deserve one.” 

and if your family ever speaks to you in that guilt-tripping tone? sae will smile and say, “ah, i see you’re still emotionally manipulating her. classy.” 

he becomes your home. the one where you’re never made to feel small.

shidou ryusei

oh he loses it. 

like, you’re mid-sentence explaining how your paycheck’s going to your family again and your brother’s just “between jobs,” and shidou stands up from the couch like he’s about to throw hands with a ghost. 

“nah. nah, babe. what the fuck.” 

he’s pacing the room, hair wild, muttering “no way, no fuckin’ way they got you slaving away while that gremlin-ass brother of yours is playing video games at home like it’s a career –” 

but then he sees your face. how normal it all sounds coming out of your mouth. and that’s when his rage turns into something softer. sadder. 

“they really did a number on you, huh?” he says quietly, wrapping his arms around you. “you’re not their damn wallet, babe. you’re mine.” 

he means that in the most unhinged romantic way possible. like, you belong with me now, and i’m never letting them take another piece of you. 

he’ll encourage you to cut them off, but he won’t pressure you. instead, he offers things – freedom, comfort, chaos in all the best ways. 

“you wanna burn their house down metaphorically? i got ideas. or we could just go to a beach in another country and forget they exist. up to you.” 

underneath all the fury, he just wants you to feel safe. and free. and his. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[chrissturnsfav]

dunno if u fw tay swift but.. imagine chris and reader at a party and like they are bestfriends but they are both secretly in love with eachother. and in the song “Dress” by taylor one of the lyrics goes like “i dont want you like a bestfriend. only bought this dress so you could take it off” so basicallyyy true love and looking into eachothers eyes in love missionary type sex 😛

if this would be a bit too long to write, i apologize but i am jot a writer and i cannot execute the idea myself 🙏

lovers > best friends ⋆₊˚ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

you and chris confess your love to each other through a taylor swift song, leading to a passionate exchange.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, fluff, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), passionate sex, friends to lovers, softdom!chris, alcohol consumption, use of pet names, finger sucking, creampie

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 1,756

the party is a blur of laughter, music, and neon lights that spill through the house. people are everywhere—dancing, talking, leaning into each other in dark corners—but your focus is on chris. it always is—especially with a few drinks in your system.

he’s standing next to you, holding a half-empty beer, his shoulder brushing yours every so often. each time it happens, it sends a quiet thrill through you, one you’ve gotten too good at hiding.

"so lemme get this straight," he says, grinning at you in that way that makes your heart trip over itself. "you actually thought karaoke at me, matt, and nick's birthday party was a good idea?"

you laugh, rolling your eyes, even though your face is already heating up as you talk over the loud music. “it was fun! everyone had a good time.”

"you sang lauryn hill and it was fuckin' horrible," he teases with a chuckle, his tone dripping with mock seriousness. "i don’t think anyone is over that yet."

"well, here you are, still bringing it up even though it was five months ago," you fire back, smirking. “seems like you were impressed."

his grin softens into something warmer, something that makes you struggle to breathe. "maybe i was."

you can’t tell if he’s joking or not, and it’s dangerous, this game you play. this flirting that feels too real sometimes, like it’s about to shift over into something else. something neither of you can take back.

the music shifts, and suddenly, "dress" by taylor swift is playing. the melody thrums in your chest, and the lyrics weave their way into the air between you.

i don’t want you like a best friend…

you glance at chris, and he’s already looking at you. it’s subtle, but his smile falters for a second, his eyes darker, more intense.

"this song," he says, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the music.

"yeah," you manage, trying to keep your tone casual, even as your pulse races.

he takes a sip of his beer, but his hand shakes just enough for you to notice. "it’s like… a lot, isn’t it?"

"depends on how you hear it," you reply, your voice steady, but barely.

his eyes flicker to yours again, holding your gaze for just a beat too long. it’s enough to make your chest ache, the unspoken words between you heavy and impossible to ignore.

"you alright?" you ask softly, leaning in so only he can hear you.

he huffs a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair that falls over his forehead so perfectly. "yeah, just…" he hesitates, his brow furrowing like he’s fighting himself. "i need to say somethin'."

your heart lurches. this is it. you can feel it, the edge of something inevitable.

"okay," you whisper, your throat dry.

he looks at you, his expression so open, so raw, it almost hurts. it feels like his usual confidence has diminished into something softer. "the lyrics are hittin' a little too hard," he hints. "i dunno if i want you like a best friend."

your breath catches, your grip tightening on your drink. “chris…”

"i mean, i do—" he stumbles over the words, his voice rushing now, like he’s afraid to stop. "you’re my best friend, and that’s fuckin' everything to me. but it’s not… it’s not all."

you blink, trying to process, trying to breathe. "not all?"

he steps closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. "i’ve been tryin' to ignore it, but it’s you. it’s always been you. like..i dunno, kid. i guess i just don't wanna pretend anymore."

his words hit you like a tidal wave, washing over every doubt and fear you’ve carried for so long.

"chris," you say again, your voice trembling now, but he’s already shaking his head.

"it’s okay if you don’t feel the same," he says quickly, his eyes dropping to the floor. "just felt like i needed you to know."

you reach for his hand, your fingers brushing his, and he looks up, startled.

"you’re not wrong," you say, barely able to get the words out.

his eyes widen, and for a moment, he just stares at you like he’s trying to make sure he heard you right.

"this dress," you continue, your voice steadier now, but still soft. "i honestly only wore it so you’d notice."

the way his gaze darkens, the way his lips part like he’s about to say something but can’t find the words—it’s intoxicating.

"i noticed, ma," he murmurs, and his voice is rough now, full of something you’ve only dreamed about, and then he smirks. that stupid, sexy smirk he always does. the pet name sends shivers down your spine, ma, it rolls off his tongue as if he's been wanting to call you that all his life.

before either of you can think, before the moment can slip away, you grab his hand, pulling him through the crowd. he follows without hesitation, your fingers intertwined like they were always meant to be.

you weave through the hall until you reach a bedroom, pushing the door open and dragging him inside. the music fades into the background as the door clicks shut behind you, leaving just the two of you in the quiet space.

you barely have time to look at him before his hands are on your waist, his lips crashing into yours like he’s been holding back for years.

and maybe he has. maybe you both have.

his kiss is everything you’ve imagined and more—urgent but tender, full of all the things he’s never said but you’ve always felt.

his hands grip your waist like he’s afraid you might disappear, and you’re not much different, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

"fuck," he whispers against your lips, his breath shaky as he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes are wild, full of something that makes your knees weak. "i’ve wanted to do that for so long."

you laugh softly, the sound breathless and giddy. "me too. me fucking too."

he groans, resting his forehead against yours. "why didn’t we do this sooner?"

"we’re stupid," you say, grinning, your hand slipping down to rest on his chest.

you can feel the steady, frantic beat of his heart under your palm, matching your own. "clearly."

he laughs too, and it’s the best sound in the world, low and warm and full of relief.

"i was so scared," he admits, his voice quieter now. his thumb brushes your cheek, his touch featherlight but grounding. "scared that if i said anything, i’d ruin everything. that i’d lose you."

your chest tightens, and you shake your head. "nah, you could never lose me, chris. never."

"same goes for you, you know," you add, your voice soft but steady. "i was scared too. but i couldn’t stop thinking about you. couldn’t stop wanting you."

his lips curve into a small, almost shy smile, so different from the confident, teasing chris you know. "so, what now?" you ask.

chris answers your question when he has you flat on your back on the random bed, your dress hiked up to your waist, his jeans and boxers resting mid thigh. he's holding onto your thighs with a gentle yet firm grip, giving you slow, hard, passionate thrusts.

your arms are tangled around his neck, little, soft moans leaving your glossy lips, lidded eyes staring into his as he pants against your face with his forehead pressed against yours.

"you feel—fuck—feel fuckin' amazing," he groans softly, his lips ghosting yours, swallowing the little moans you breathe out.

you whine, your eyes rolling back. you knew chris would be good, all those stories about his hookups gave him a reputation, but you'd never think you'd ever be under him. you also never knew he would fuck you almost like he loves you, but not as a best friend—as a lover.

"chris," you gasp, arms moving to cup his face and cradle it in your hands, eliciting a whimper from his pretty lips. he moves one hand from your thigh to gently grip your wrist, moving his mouth to press a soft kiss to your palm that makes your body shudder.

"been wantin' this for so fuckin' long," he grunts softly, brushing his lips against yours making chills course through your body.

"m-me...too," you mumble through whines, pressing your lips to his jaw, sucking and kissing at his skin.

chris gasps softly, hissing in pleasure as he bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, "fuck, keep doin' that and you're gonna make me cum."

you let out a giggly moan against his jaw, laying your head back flat against the bed. "m-mmph," you whine, a little more high pitched as your back arches off the bed, your gummy walls squeezing his lengthy cock. "m-m'close...chris...close..."

he grunts above you at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing around him, tightening his grip on your thighs, his thrusts growing a little faster and sloppier, "fuuuck...gonna make me fuckin' cum, pretty girl...jesus..."

"c-chris—chris," you whine louder, your eyes rolling back as your jaw falls slack, a knot tightening deliciously in your belly, one you've felt before with other guys, but this time it's different. it's so much better.

"yeah, c'mon baby," he mutters, lidded eyes staring into your closed ones. he gently grips your jaw, brushing his thumb over your plush bottom lip. "open those pretty eyes f'me, wanna see you."

you force your eyes open, lidded and glossy with tears of pleasure, panting against his thumb as your walls squeeze around him tighter and your thighs begin to tremble.

chris smiles sweetly down at you as he gets closer, his thrusts even more uncoordinated and sloppy. "there she is, my girl," he groans softly, gently pressing his thumb into your warm, wet mouth.

his words make your body shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips as you cum. jolts of pleasure make your thighs shake, your nails sinking into his clothed back, "oh my god," you cry out in ecstasy around his thumb, your jaw falling slack, your eyes still on him.

"i know," he coos, groaning softly at your whimpers and pants as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, "o-oh, fuck, baby, fuck...shit..." he grunts softly.

his body shakes slightly, his hips stuttering as his eyes roll back and he grunts, his fingers digging into your thigh as he cums deep inside you. you've never felt so full, your wet pussy stuffed full of his cum making you whimper in pleasure.

after cleaning up, you both step back into the party, the two of you still glowing with the electricity of what just happened, everything feels different. brighter.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i'm not a swiftie so i hope i executed this well enough! also sorry if it was a lil corny eek.

thank you for reading!! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage , @ifwdominicfike , @marrykisskilled , @strnilolover , @cayleeuhithinknott , @forgottxen , @sophand4n4 , @sturnsrecord , @purpledragon222 , @faiyaz555 , @jocelyncsblog , @freakiolos , @slut4chris888 , @chriss-slutt , @ilovedanielcaesar , @annsx03 , @snoopychris , @chrissweetheart

@chrissturnsfav ™

[bamfkeeper]

You were taken and Kurt does everything he can to to get you back.

I wanted to write something like this since the post where he sees you get hurt and goes nuts. This is sorta like that but more extreme. A little darker than what I've written before. Please skip this one if the warnings make you uncomfortable. There might be a part two that features more recovery, maybe. Idk yet we will see.

Warnings: Gender neutral mutant!reader, kidnapping, descriptions of injury, creepy soldiers, violence, mutant prejudice (the term 'mutie' is used), mentions/descriptions of physical abuse via soldiers to reader, good ending I promise, unedited (at this point please just expect it lmao I never edit my writing bc I'm lazy).

WC: 3.4k

It happened so fast, a blur of motion and confusion. You barely had time to react before you were snatched from the comforting surroundings of your bedroom and forcefully shoved into a heavily armored vehicle. The interior was cramped, filled to the brim with men in imposing uniforms, their expressions stern and unyielding. You looked up at all of them, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your powers were gone, they had put that damn collar on you, the one designed to nullify your abilities. In that moment, you felt completely and utterly helpless, stripped of your defenses and at the mercy of your captors. They knew it too.

"Poor thing. It doesn't know what to do, does it?" one of them snickered at you, his voice dripping with mockery and malice, making you shiver with a mix of disgust and fear. The man's voice was so vile it made you want to vomit, and the way he looked at you made you feel profoundly uncomfortable. You were helpless, bound on the cold, hard ground of the van, as all of these soldiers kept their disgusting, predatory gazes glued on you, watching you squirm in agony and distress on the floor.

The air was thick with the stench of sweat and metal, amplifying your sense of dread and making your situation feel even more hopeless. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you desperately wished for some form of escape, but there was none. The soldiers' laughter and jeers filled the back of the van, and you felt even more distressed.

"You're a cute mutie, you know that? Most of 'em you can tell are filthy things, but you...you're one of the attractive ones, aren't you?" one soldier spoke. His words were condescending and cruel despite what he said. The tone of his voice carried a sharp edge, filled with disdain and mockery. He looked you up and down with a sneer, observing you with distain and annoyance.

His comrades stood by, chuckling and nodding in agreement, their eyes filled with the same mixture of contempt and amusement. His expression growing more malicious with each passing second, his boot lifted and kicked you slightly. "Are you going to speak, or are you mute, just like a dumb animal?" he asked sharply.

You took a sharp inhale, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to steady your nerves. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as you made a conscious effort to avoid interacting with them at all. The last thing you wanted was to provoke them and risk any form of retaliation.

Your throat was dry, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears as you swallowed thickly. "N-no..." you managed to let out in a quiet, shaky whisper, barely audible but enough to convey your reluctance and fear.

A sharp sting to your cheek as one of them swung their baton across your face, the impact reverberating through your skull. The blow was so hard it jerked your head to the side with brutal force, and your temple slammed painfully into the cold, unforgiving floor of the van. You could feel the rough texture of the metal against your skin, the scent of dirty leather and iron filled your nostrils, adding to the disorienting pain.

He scoffed, the sound filled with disdain, his eyes holding nothing but cruel amusement and a twisted sense of superiority. "Pathetic freak," he spat, the words dripping with contempt and malice.

The ride was unbearably long and dreary, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. You laid on the cold, hard floor of the van silently, trying to block out the incessant comments and remarks they made about you and your appearance. Their voices dripped with eager malice as they spoke about the brazen and disgusting things they wanted to do to you, each word sending a shiver down your spine and making you want to curl up into a tight ball and hide from the world.

After what seemed like endless hours of discomfort, the van finally slowed to a stop. You were roughly dragged out of it, your legs refusing to cooperate after being forced to lay in such an uncomfortable position for so long. The sun had set the world into a foggy darkness, the only lights illuminating the area were from the large bunker that was build into the wall of a large mountain, guarded with armored vehicles and more men in uniforms.

You struggled to regain your bearings as they pulled you forward, your body aching and your mind reeling from the ordeal. They forcefully walked you inside the huge doors that were drawn open, jerking you around with a roughness that made it hard to keep your composure. Their hands grasped you firmly, their hands groping your body as you struggled against their grip, trying desperately to maintain a calm façade.

Your brave face was beginning to falter, and it became increasingly evident that your terror was rapidly growing. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't hide the fact that fear was taking over, creeping into every corner of your mind.

They walked you to a wall of cells, which stretched endlessly in both directions, each one containing a mutant. Some cells already held mutants who were caged and looked absolutely horrible, as if they had been there for a long time. The conditions of the cells varied greatly; some were sterile and clean, while others were more run-down and dilapidated, as if the guards had no fear that the mutant inside would ever escape.

The air was thick with the smell of decay and neglect. Most of the mutants didn't move or look up; they were either lying down or sitting in a posture of utter defeat. Their eyes were vacant, their spirits broken, and it seemed as though hope had long since abandoned them. The overall atmosphere was one of despair and abandonment, a stark reminder of the cruelty inflicted upon them.

"What is this place?" you asked, attempting to sound firm and confident. However, your voice betrayed you, emerging as meek and afraid instead. The man holding you chuckled in amusement at your fear as he opened the heavy, creaking door to your chosen cell.

"Your new home, mutant. Get comfortable," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. With a rough shove, he threw you onto the cold, hard ground. The impact knocked the wind out of you as you landed with a thud. The man then unsheathed a gleaming blade, its edge catching the dim light.

He began to cut through the coarse ropes that bound your body, each slice of the blade careless. He didn’t care if he nicked you, and he did a few times. You flinched as the blade cut your skin, the sharp jerks and sawing through the ropes stabbed into you as you let out sharp hisses and pained gasps.

The man continued as if he weren't hurting you, and he scoffed with each noise you made. "If you sat still this wouldn't have happened," he grabbed one of your bleeding arms and he held it up.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice whined out, desperate for answers. None of their uniforms gave their organization away, and you had no idea what they wanted with you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls, which only added to the sense of dread you felt. The man just stood up, shrugging nonchalantly as if this entire situation was a routine matter for him.

"Nothing important. Whatever the boss wants," he replied, his voice dripping with apathy. "We do anything to your kind, and no one will come for you. We won't be charged with any crimes, you aren't people. You're nothing to us, and soon we will exterminate your species and we will be the supreme race on the planet again."

His words cut through the air like a knife, making it hard to breathe. You could see the cold determination in his eyes, a reflection of a deeply ingrained hatred. It was clear that they had been planning this for a long time, and you were just another pawn in their grand scheme. The thought of being part of such a ruthless plan made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do but listen and hope for a chance to escape.

The days melded together in an indistinguishable blur, and your concept of time dissipated. Every single day, you were visited by the men, who would unceremoniously drag you into a sterile lab filled with cold, clinical instruments.

There, a man wearing white would subject you to various invasive procedures, poking and prodding you with sharp tools that seemed designed to maximize your agony. They took many things from you—blood, tissue samples, and even bone marrow—leaving you feeling increasingly depleted and always somewhat wounded and weak.

Your time in this nightmarish place was exactly what mutantkind was afraid of, what you were afraid of, filled with relentless suffering, and they showed no sign of compassion or concern for the excruciating pain they inflicted upon you.

You were beaten regularly, just like the rest of the mutants being held captive in the facility. Every day, they came to your cell with their batons, mercilessly laying into you until your skin changed colors from the bruises. They were relentless, you were kicked and hit repeatedly, dragged by your hair across the cold, hard floors, thrown against the walls, and tossed around like a ragdoll.

You were barely fed, only given tasteless slop that had the consistency of old paste and looked anywhere from white to grey mush. This so-called "food" was just enough to keep you from starving, but not enough to ever feel full or satisfied. The meals were infrequent and meager, purposefully designed to keep you in a state of constant hunger and weakness.

They wanted to ensure that your body remained perpetually frail, as if the collar around your neck didn't already make you harmless enough for them. This deliberate deprivation was a method of control, a way to break down your spirit and ensure that you remained too weak to resist or fight back.

You were so tired.

The torment seemed endless. You swore that if they didn't need to take samples from your body nearly every day for their experiments, they would have taken pleasure in killing you outright. The relentless abuse was a constant reminder of your helplessness, and the fact that you couldn't fight back killed you inside.

Collared, drugged, and experimented on like some kind of helpless animal, it seemed like there was no end to the torment. They groped and touched you in ways you didn't want, and it was clear they had no regard for your consent or well-being. The very sight of your discomfort brought them pleasure, and they made sure you knew it every step of the way. Their methods were devised and precise; deeply psychological torment designed to break your spirit and make you feel utterly powerless.

As much as you hated it, it worked.

Their methods proved to be highly effective, gradually wearing you down over time. You could feel yourself slowly succumbing to their demands, submitting to what they wanted from you. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism that your brain instinctively resorted to in order to cope with the relentless torture and abuse. After enduring for such a long period, you found that you had no fight left within you, completely drained of the will to resist.

Red alarms blared loudly, their piercing sound cutting through the silence and yanking you from a rare slumber. Startled, you blinked awake, though your vision was slightly corrupted by the bruises and swollen skin, especially around your dominant eye, which throbbed painfully.

Groggily, your head rose from the cold, hard floor, confusion flooding your mind as you tried to process your surroundings. The distant sounds of fighting drifted to your ears from the direction of your cell, adding to the disorientation and making you wonder what the hell was happening beyond the confines of your small, dimly-lit prison.

You felt your body flinch violently as something large and heavy slammed into the room where the cells were located. The sudden noise echoed through the small, confined space, sending a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you crawled into the nearest corner and curled up there, trying to make yourself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

You had learned from experience that the precious visits from the men were less painful if you were already huddled against the wall, minimizing the areas they could hit with their fists or batons. The cold, hard surface of the wall offered a strange sense of comfort, even as fear and uncertainty gnawed at you.

The the heavy, metallic sound of your cell door creaking open, and instinctively, your entire body tensed up, bracing for yet another brutal attack from the armed men who derived joy from taunting and tormenting you. You prepared yourself for the rough hands and the mocking jeers that usually followed. But this time, instead of the expected harsh touches and cruel laughter, you were met with something entirely different—a voice you hadn't expected to hear again.

"Liebe..." the voice whispered weakly, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread of hope. Puzzled and intrigued, you slowly pulled your head out from its tucked, defensive position and glanced toward the source of the unexpected whisper. The sight that met your eyes made you freeze.

Kurt stood in shock, his eyes glued to your fragile, timid form curled on the floor. The scene overwhelmed him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. He slowly knelt down, every movement deliberate as if sudden actions might shatter the fragile peace. His hands, steady yet trembling with restrained emotion, gently set his swords on the floor with a quiet clink that echoed in the silence. "Liebe...y/n..." he rasped quietly, his voice a soft whisper, trying his best to sound calm and composed despite the complete internal storm of rage and anguish brewing within him.

His heart ached with as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your form, not wanting to startle you further. You stared with uncertainty, your body naturally flinching away, so used to a heavy hand and harsh touches that left you in anguish. For some reason, your brain couldn't differentiate between your lover and the men who had been torturing you.

"I-It's me, Kurt..." he said with a pained strain, his voice cracking as if it hurt to speak, "It's okay...I'm here now." He muttered, his hand gently touching your bruised body, his fingers trembling slightly as if afraid to cause you more pain. You made a quiet whine, a soft sound that conveyed both your relief and your lingering fear. Looking at him and realizing that he had come to you, that he was truly here, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you.

He was here, and you were safe.

The room around you seemed to blur as the significance of his presence settled in, the promise of protection and care easing the tension consuming you. A cry escaped your throat and you fell into him, his arms instantly wrapped around your body, his tail following suit. "Shh, sh...Es ist okay, ich bin jetzt hier." he whispered, trying his best to soothe you while your cheeks dampened with tears.

He held you tightly and let you cry, feeling the tremors of your sobs against his chest. He could hear the terror and desperation in your muffled wails, each one a heartbreaking testament to your pain. Your arms and hands gripped him, but your hold was weak, your strength sapped by the inhumane treatment you endured. You were in dire need of medical attention, evident from your pale complexion and labored breathing. Despite this, he didn't want to let go yet; he wanted to keep you in his arms, so afraid to let go and lose you again.

"You're safe now, liebling," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Oh... I was so scared... so terribly scared I might not reach you in time." His heart ached with the memory of the fear and helplessness he had felt, and he vowed never to let you out of his sight again.

"Let's go...hold on..." he said, gripping you tightly as his tail moved and wrapped securely around his swords. With a swift motion, he teleported you to the jet. The floor beneath you was hard and unyielding, but the environment around you was far more welcoming and comforting than the cold, harsh cell that had been stained with your own blood.

He leaned back to grab something, his arms unwrapping from your body, but your grip grew stronger on him. "No...no, don't go," you were desperate for him, so terrified of his absence, your mind was in pieces, the aftermath of the torture you went through on full display as you became more and more attached to his presence. Needing him like he were the only thing keeping you from drowning in the thrashing waters that plagued your thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere, schatz... I am just getting a blanket for you," Kurt soothed reassuringly. His tail, nimble and gentle, reached out to grab the blanket so his arms could remain wrapped securely around you, providing a sense of comfort and stability that you desperately needed. He carefully grabbed the soft blanket and draped it over you, making sure you were warm, and continued to hold you close against his body in a protective embrace.

The presence of the other X-Men in the jet went by unnoticed by you, They started up the jet and began the flight back towards the mansion where you could be properly treated. Right now, your only focus was on Kurt, his presence and touch being the only things grounding you in that moment of anxiety.

As you finally began to give in to the much-needed sleep your body was desperate for, your eyes caught a glimpse of the swords Kurt had carried with him into the facility. Their brilliant, silver shine was now dulled with the stains of crimson, splattered and smeared across the once pristine blades, telling a silent tale of what transpired before he found you. You blinked, trying to focus more on them, but his tail pushed them out of view, obscuring the unsettling sight.

Kurt didn't want you to witness the sheer carnage he had wrought, as he was completely blinded by a bitter and relentless rage that consumed him entirely. In his fury, he slaughtered so many men that he lost count, not even realizing the extent of his actions. All he could think about was wanting you back in his arms, where you would be safe and protected from the horrors that had befallen you. His blades were stained with the hateful blood of those men who had caused you so much harm, and he felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, even though deep down he knew it was wrong.

But he didn't care about the morality of his actions, not now at least. Seeing you so badly hurt had ignited a fire within him, a burning guilt that was only somewhat lifted by the vengeance he exacted. His mind was clouded, but in the chaos, all he wanted was get you home safe where you could be treated. None of the other X-Men dared say a word to him about what happened, by the time they arrived to help Kurt had already went through the men with ease, his blind rage driving him to kill to get to you.

He carefully adjusted his hold, making sure that you could lay your head more comfortably against him. He wanted to ensure that you couldn't see the gleaming blades. His expression was a complex mixture of trouble and deep worry, reflecting the weight of the situation and his concern for your well-being. Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "Rest, liebe... we will get you fixed up soon. Just hold on a little longer..."

You couldn't argue with him now. Your body was in need of rest and you finally felt safe enough to fall asleep. It was such a relief to sleep without worrying about someone coming in and hurting you. You closed your eyes as he held you tight, whispering sweet nothings to you as you slowly allowed your body to fall into a deep slumber. All you knew now was that you had a long recovery ahead of you, and he would be by your side the entire time.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight and @/strangergraphics

Tag List: @southside-otaku

If you want to be part of my tag list, please leave a 💙.

[medullamindset]

STEB HEADCANONS :>

Uhhhm YEAH a few headcanons ive collected since act 3 came out in november 😸 enjoy Stebnation, or dont idk

This is very short and boring but its easier to write him in an actual scenario so TRUST IN ME MY UPCOMING STUFF WILL BE BETTER 😿

Content warnings: Established relationship w Reader, miiiild mention of knifeplay but its easily looked past. My opinion on his race.

NSFW marked this pink!

• He cannot be any older than 30. I'd bet hes like 23-27. Idk how old u have to be to be a field medic/enforcer??

• Hes around 6'4.. Tall guy. ♥︎‿♥︎

• His frill thingies seem to lie flat to his face with "down" emotions, such as shame/guilt and sadness. But they point straight out with more intense emotions, like suspense, anger, exitement, worry. I love the way they flutter sometimes, as a subtle reaction. Like when they saw the Zaunites walking over the bridge to aid in the war, his frills were like "oh, wow.."

But also how they shot straight out with suspense when Ambessa wanted Caitlyn to b commander and everyone was banging their chests and stuff.

• I'd like to imagine his frills flutter a few times in a row when he orgasms, like the shockwaves of pleasure, but also post-orgasm. Maybe they go hand in hand with his nervous system kinda?

• His tip is the same color as his eyelids. His nails seem to be beige too.

• He CAN talk he just chooses not to if he feels he doesnt need to. Short sentences if he has to, small nods and shakes of his head, LOOKS. his face is VERY expressive, but thats more of a fact than a hc. body language is a key communication of his.

• Hes def always been the quiet type, ever since he was six he hasn't been big on speaking.

But sometimes you cheat the system.. Having your back turned to him when you ask him a question just so you can hear his voice, even just to get a little "mhm" from him <3

• On the rare occasion that he does speak his voice is kinda hoarse and gravelly from lack of use UGHHHH *squirts everywhere*

• hes a bit of a "bland" person, hes not boring.. Just a very simple man. He reads practically anything, carries your bags when you're out shopping, he literally just goes wherever you wanna go. He hangs over your shoulders when you do ur makeup, cooks breakfast most mornings, cleans when he feels its needed cuz he doesn't like messes, he'll have music on in the background tho and it's usually one of your vinyls that's playing, makes him feel closer to you <3

Simple things man. deeply emotional and caring too. Hes so kind and eager to help ugh MY SHAYLAA.

• hes a bit socially awkward, he doesnt have social anxiety, hes just kinda stiff and quiet around people.

• what the fuck does he do all day, really?

• I feel like he'd like dancing with his lover but he thinks hes bad at it so hes a bit awkward <333 put his hands around ur waist for him tho and he'd turn into even more speechless mush, everytime.

• Has a gummy smile thats really evident when he laughs so he tries not too, might let a grin slip in private tho c: and close mouthed chuckling/snickers.

• Loves being carressed, hold his face in your hands and trace his cheekbones with ur thumbs? FOLDS. Running your fingers up and down the fins at the back of his head when his face is in your neck? PUTTY.

• Speaking of fins, they continue down to to his lower back, shorter at the bottom but longest between his shoulderblades. He also has darker spots(scales?) Like the other fishfolk in Arcane on his outer arms and thighs. See this post of mine for a ref :)

• he drinks alot of water, like ALOT. his throat get dry easily cuz hes.. Yk, fish.. Atleast half-fish. He'll remind his partner to do the same, no matter your race cuz its good for u, he'll nudge u with a glass in hand and a small tug at his lips, or simply just leave it beside u as a silent reminder.

• Loves holding hands. like, he just LOVES it. He'll act nonchalant abt it but on the inside his heart is just blossoming 💗

Like imagine you're at a café or a bar or a diner WHATEVER and ur just sitting infront of him yapping abt ur day or smth ur planning while holding his hand over the table, and he'll just be buzzing with love, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, feeling lucky his blush doesnt show (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• ABSOLUTELY ADORES kisses. He just finds them so sweet and intimate (cuz they are. But i mean like, he doesn't ever NOT think about it after kissing you, hes always locked on target y'know, he only sees you. He only feels you when kissing your lips, he'll kiss u like its the end of the world.. even if hes just getting up to go to the bathroom or something.)

• he just loves you so much, please kiss him, everywhere. Theres not a single spot of him you could kiss that wouldn't make him shiver (the good way).

• Steb is not much for hardcore kinks in bed. He doesnt "fuck", he makes love. In his eyes there truly isnt any purer form of intimacy than sharing something like that, giving away a piece of yourself to this person, your souls spiritually intertwined and yadiyadayada (it's true tho)

• He will go harder if you ask him to, hes not afraid to make you scream with pleasure. Also, bite him and hes a goner. Omg if hes like treating u so nicely in the sack you gotta bite down on something to contain yourself, pls let it be his shoulder, please leave pretty imprints of you canines all over his neck and chest. And hickeys too HNNGHH

Makes him groan so deliciously. Hips snapping into yours just a liiiittle more harshly than intended.

He'll bite you back carnally if you'll let him, Steb gets so lost in it sometimes..

• Hes open to experimentation tho, like if theres something you reallyreallyreally wanna try he'll be like 'euuughgghggggrhggh okay yk what fine', as long as he doesn't have to hurt you, not too much anyway. The idea of inflicting pain-pain on the person he loves makes him queasy.

• But if hes really fucking horny at some point, watching you take the front seat and play around w his gills, scratch at his chest, put a hand around his neck or.. Idk drag a knife gently across his skin while topping he'll literally whine, digging his dull nails into your sides, holding on for dear life.

• He loves being called petnames. Serious and silly ones. His favorites have gotta be Love, Darling, Baby and pretty boy.. All the sappy stuff. One time you called him 'Gorgeous' and his frills shot straight out for a solid three seconds.. If he already didn't speak, he'd be speechless then. CUZ HES A GORGEOUS MAN.

Or that one time you called him 'fishface' and he just slumped in defeat when he heard you giggle, knowing that one was gonna stick around.

You'll enter the kitchen where hes making something to eat and just go "Hey, Fishface! So--!" Continuing to yap and he just rolls his eyes with a lopsided, lovesick grin u cant see from behind him. From anybody else it'd piss him off, but it's you, So he lets it slide.

• he has the warmest and weirdly softest fuckin hands ever. They're never clammy or sticky, just nice and toasty, perfect.

• is the type to grab your hands in the winter and rub them if theyre cold, trying to transfer his warmth over, even if hes also freezing. breathing hotly onto them.

• speaking of winter he probably HATES IT. He gets SO cold SO easy, hes shaking in his boots fr. A frozen fishstick fr. Like jesus. But the palms of his hands stay warm for some reason..

adding to that hes def a sweater fiend.. He LOVES knitted sweaters and hoodies and TURTLENECKS. HE'D LOOK SO GOOD IN A TURTLENECK. TELL ME IM WRONG. LIKE A BIG, FAT, KNITTED ONE THAT GOES UP TO HIS JAW. Even better if you knit/crocheted them for him <33

• I headcanon that his dad is a human and his mom is a fish person cuz he has hair and rounded teeth which other fishfolk we see don't. We don't see any other fishfolk from piltover tho.. So maybe hes just slapped on a wig, peel-off eyebrows and filed his teeth down (which is INSANELY painful btw) to look "socially acceptable". I HEAVILY doubt that, when i rascism like that ever shown in Arcane, Piltover specifically? 🤔 Im not even gonna get into that whole Vastaya thing cuz i dont know enough.. I heard they can decide how many animal features they show as they please and that they're like deeply connected to magic and live really long.. But that isn't mentioned or even nodded to in Arcane so im just gonna pretend that doesnt exist lol sorry

• but ya he adopted alot of his moms fishy features but also human-ish hair and teeth from his dad.

•speaking of his parents, i do feel like Steb was raised kinda strictly? Idk i just feel like his parents would be very uptight and that stuck with him all the way into adulthood, he stands super upright and is well proper while on the job because thats just what hes been taught.

hes alot more relaxed at home tho, where he knows he doesn't have to be or look presentable for anyone, especially not you. he knows you'll love him even while standing by the fridge in pj's, with a fist full of grated cheese ready to be devoured at circa 2 AM.

• He was raised in a small village on the outskirts, right beside the ocean. Hence he still adores it and loves to go swimming with you, reminds him of his childhood yk c:

• He kinda gives only child vibes to me? Idk the thought of him with an older sibling is kinda cute tho,, i imagine they'd be like complete opposites. They hardly see eachother,, I don't feel like his family lives in Piltover. He had a "Mom, Dad.. I'm 18 now..! I'm moving to the big city. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Moment, exept in a less verbal way maybe, moving to the city of progress and begining medical and tactical training, to help people. On both sides.

• Hes really good at origami, sometimes when hes at work and droning at his desk with nothing better to do he'll just grab a random paper and fold a little swan together. You've found multiple critters like that scattered around the house, some with faces drawn on, just two inky dots and a derpy smile like this : )

Once he made one of your favorite animal and left it on your nightstand before heading to work, you picked it up and examined it, smile growing even wider when you found the hidden lovenote that was written on it <3

It's now glued neatly into your shared scrapbook/journal along with many more, surrounded by dried flowers and red hearts <33

Uhhhhhhhhhhhrghhhhhhhhhh yeah ❗️🚮 i just debated wether or not this is even worth posting for like twenty minutes.

Pls dont bash me for my opinions now *gulp*

Also heres a lil reminder that im taking requests 💗💗 i love writing i just never have good or original ideas :'o(

[kastalani123]

The Riordanverse is, ultimately, a children's series so it's expected that the nitty-gritty, darker details of certain things get omitted. Still, I think it'd be interesting to see the demigods, each raised for slaughter in their own way, be the soldiers, the victims, the prey that they grew up to be for both godly and mortal reasons.

Percy always keeps Riptide in arm's reach, always keeps his fingers curled around it, ready to unsheath it every waking moment. He sits and stands with his back flush against walls, eyes and ears always open to seek the slightest hint of danger. He trusts Paul, he trusts Chiron — he still watches every minute shift of their expression, of their body for warning signs. He keeps outside Dionysus's range, ensures he always has an open exit within reach. The smell of alcohol makes him dizzy, nauseous; his thoughts leave his body sometimes, when it gets bad enough.

Annabeth keeps a packed bag at the bottom of her closet when she stays at her family's home; she has places she can stay and her parents and Chiron have been good, but her feet still itch when they frown a time too many. Nobody knows she still sees spiders sometimes, feels her skin itch with their crawling. She makes Percy swear he'll never leave the room before she wakes up unless it's truly necessary. She puts boards on her bed's edges so she'll never fall while she thrashes from nightmares; falling would only make it worse.

Leo sits far from any open fires and leaves if people start roasting meat; Plan C is used sparingly once he isn't constantly fighting for his life. His tool belt can't make food, but it stores more granola bars than he could ever carry without it. He makes himself near-unnoticeable earplugs after New Year's and he avoids looking at himself; his body is too whole for being blown to pieces and half the time he's sure the chunks are rotting around Camp Half-Blood where they should've fallen. He tries to keep from unnecessary interactions; he can't have things tying him to some place, not when he's mapped out dozens of escape plans. He smiles longer and wider than ever before.

Hazel doesn't wear jewelry; the only exception is a wooden bead bracelet Nico gave her after she rejected a golden necklace. Walls close in around her, dust and liquid clog her throat, stones crush her bones– she comes back to the present. She clings to affection like a drowning man to a piece of wood, but keeps watch for signs that it'll turn against her. Silence haunts her every step; she keeps an MP3 player and headphones with her at all times to drive it away.

Frank gathers up his form and pours it into a mould of himself, does what he can to keep it from spilling through the cracks. His fingers are littered with scars and scratches, with a trail of broken mirrors left behind in their wake. There are always voices arguing in the back of his mind — not his father's, but not his own, either; just a phantom screech pulsing through his head. He drowns them by sinking into new responsibilities, new dangers, shaping himself to fit while trying to remain himself. The crackle of burning wood follows him everywhere he goes and he can do nothing to down it out — only stare at whatever he had managed to save from his suicide to remind himself he does not need to worry about it; he has already crumbled into ash.

Piper dives into Oklahoma, into mortality, like she'll suffocate without it. She remains far from everything, though not far enough to be out of the loop, because she needs to know about every prophecy, every end of the world, every step and challenge her friends face. She calls them on a bronze-infused phone, not a rainbow, even if the camera and the notifications and the everythingness of it blind her like a spotlight and the thrum of electricity runs through her veins like venom. She paints her face a bit misshapen here, a bit discolored there, a bit unsettling everywhere, and Shel understands. She understands and she loves her and she says it's beautiful not in aesthetics but in the potential protection it provides, as Piper intended.

Jason had learned every rule with the mere intention to break it, to tear through the chains of military life that had been clamped around his throat for as long as he could remember. He had chased life, rather than the survival he had clung to for so long — packed every second of his ticking down time with it. Finally with freedom, but so little time with it, he snatched every piece of it he could: a mortal highschool, a movie theatre, a mall shopping spree, a room of his own — all carefully documented in stacks of journals, ever breath of air and glimpse of the sun, with copies upon copies stashed away so that his memories could never again slip away like sand between his fingers, so that his friends had something of him left, after his life of nothingness.

[ramhaiba]

𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

SNEAK PEEK

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT a/n: this fic is a lot darker than normal of my work contains: noncon sexual themes, manhandling, breaking up, biting, oral (f receiving), baby trapping, modern au

The truth is, you should have broken up with Satoru Gojo a long time ago. Two years ago, the thought of even considering taking a break from Satoru would have sent you into a coma. Why wouldn’t you want to be known as ‘Satoru's girl?’ Being with a guy like him would cause no one to dare look at you in the wrong way. 

Besides, he buys you things that cost more than your rent, and will refuse if you dare to give it back to him because you ‘don’t need such expensive things.’ 

So what exactly is wrong with dating Satoru?

Obsession. 

“You’ve been spending so much time with your friends...sometimes I think you forget who your boyfriend is”

“Jealous? Me? Baby, it’s only because I care about you”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, it hurts me. Do you want to hurt me, Y/n?”

“You look great in that dress. But I feel like I should be the only person to see you in it. Why don’t you go change so you don’t embarrass me” 

And the list goes on and on...and on…

If it wasn’t his words that would send you to this point, his constant touching, rubbing, groping, and kissing in public just to scare any guy in your five-mile radius away was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. 

The final straw is when you heard furious knocking on your door, knocking so loud that you could have sworn that whoever was behind it would just kick it down, surprised that you could hear it with the storm outside. Unlucky for you, you were middle of a shower, not expecting to be bothered in the middle of the night. You were forced to wrap a towel around your torso, covering your chest to your upper thighs, and rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You slowly open the door for your boyfriend,  his chest heaving as the rain pours down on his white hair. 

“Satoru- wh-what’s wrong.” you stuttered, clenching the towel wrapped around your body.

“Bastard ” he muttered, stepping inside, letting his wet footprints stain your floors. 

“What? Satoru, why are you even here- it’s late” you questioned, in disbelief. 

“Tell me-tell me that he didn’t fuck you, Y/n. Please” Satoru begged, his hands gripping your shoulder as he forced you to the wall, blue eyes without a trace of sanity.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about “ you yelped, unaware of what put your boyfriend into such a manic episode.  

“Is he still in the house? Huh? He is right?” Satoru started laughing, his head leaning into the crook of your neck, 

God- at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he bit your neck off.

“Satoru, you’re starting to scare me. Please just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you” you responded, trying to caress his face, only for him to pin your hands above your head. 

“Nanami, you’re fucking him, right? Suguru saw bring you to your house. Holding hands or some shit. Looking too friendly” Satoru hissed, just the thought of you being touched by hands that didn’t belong to him sent waves of fury into him. 

You didn’t even question why Suguru was watching you when he had no reason to be in your area- 

Thinking back at it, you wondered if Satoru begged asked Suguru to watch you while he was too busy to do it himself. 

“Nanami only came over because I asked him to help fix my door” you answered. 

“Then what? You rode his dick as a reward?” 

“Satoru, I would never” you argued. 

“Then show me… Prove to me that you’d never betray me” he erupted, clicking his tongue 

“Please” he added.

That’s when Satoru stepped away from you, knowing what you have to do, your hands shakily let the white towel around your chest slip off, falling onto the floor, using your forearms to cover your breast and pelvis. You turned your head to the side, finding it unbearable to watch his degrading facial expression as he examined every inch of your body, tears of embarrassment threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“What’s this,” Satoru asked, eyes hooded, his fingers prying your thighs apart, tracing over a faded bite mark. 

“It’s from you, remember” you answered, voice cracking. Suddenly, you felt Satoru’s hands pull your face towards his, blue eyes locking with yours, refusing to let you look away, “want to bet on it?” he questioned. 

You watched hopelessly as Satoru’s lips trailed down your chest to your inner thigh, his knees on the ground, stopping at the bite mark, his pupils dilating as he took a good look at it, before sinking his teeth right into it, causing you to yelp, tugging on his white hair, silently begging him to stop. And when he finally did, he pressed a wicked kiss on it, pulling back to analyze it, 

“I knew it”

He smiled as he looked up at you from between your legs, pressing his chin on your thigh, “It’s a perfect match on my teeth, I knew you’d never cheat on me baby” he smiled. His hands rubbed your waist as your tears fell from your eyes, heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline.

 Satoru didn’t mind you were crying, in fact, he thought you were always at your prettiest when crystal-clear salty tears dripped down your heated cheeks, eyelashes damp. 

Full version

[bunnysnuff]

Study session interrupted.

Pairing: Elphaba Throbb x reader.

Trigger warnings: none.

Requests.

It was a quiet afternoon in Elphaba’s room. The green walls, adorned with a few scattered books and a flickering candle, cast a soft glow over the space. You and Elphaba were sitting at her desk, books and papers spread out in front of you as you both tried to focus on the assignments at hand. The sound of the quill scratching against the parchment was the only noise, aside from the occasional rustle of pages.

You had been studying for what felt like hours, but your mind kept drifting. Every now and then, you found yourself glancing over at Elphaba. She was so focused, her sharp eyes scanning the pages, the dim light casting shadows that only made her look even more ethereal.

“You’re staring again,” Elphaba said, her voice a teasing drawl, her green eyes lifting from the page to meet yours.

You blinked, a little startled. “Am I?”

She smirked, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. “You know, you really should stop doing that. It's distracting.”

“Distracting, huh?” you asked, leaning in a little closer. “I didn’t know I had that kind of power over you.”

Elphaba arched an eyebrow, the challenge in her expression as clear as ever. “Oh, you definitely do,” she said with a hint of mischief in her voice.

Before you could respond, your face broke into a grin. “You’re such a tease, Elphie.”

Her lips quirked, and with a swift motion, she set her quill down, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The next thing you knew, she was leaning in, her breath warm on your lips.

You couldn't resist anymore. You closed the gap between you, lips meeting hers in a soft, lingering kiss. It was gentle at first—just a quiet affirmation of your feelings—but as she responded, it deepened, the warmth between you both intensifying.

Just as Elphaba’s hand reached to cup your face, the door to her room creaked open.

“Hey, Elphie, I—” Glinda’s voice trailed off, her wide eyes locking on the scene before her. Her hand froze on the doorknob, and she stared at the two of you, her mouth slightly open in exaggerated surprise. “Well, this is… unexpected.”

You and Elphaba quickly pulled apart, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Elphaba’s green skin flushed darker, a subtle shade of red creeping across her face. She turned away, trying to hide her flustered expression behind her hands.

Glinda, ever the dramatic one, stepped fully into the room, crossing her arms over her chest and looking between the two of you with a teasing grin. “You know, I never took you for a couple that couldn’t keep their hands off each other.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, glancing at Elphaba, who was avoiding eye contact with both of you. “We weren’t doing anything,” you said quickly, although your tone didn’t help much in convincing anyone.

Elphaba shot you a look that could only be described as ‘please help me,’ and for a moment, you almost wanted to disappear into the floor.

Glinda, still grinning, glanced at the desk and the scattered papers. “Right. So, studying, huh? I mean, I can see the study materials… but that doesn’t explain the heavy make-out session.”

You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “We were just... taking a break.”

“Elphaba, taking breaks? Now that’s a surprise,” Glinda teased, crossing her arms.

“Alright, alright, we get it, Glinda,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’ve made your point.”

There was a pause before you broke the awkward tension with a grin. “But if you’re gonna interrupt, at least bring snacks next time. A little courtesy goes a long way.”

Elphaba snorted, her earlier embarrassment fading as she glanced at you, her lips curling in an amused smile. “You’re terrible.”

“And yet, you love me,” you said, winking at her.

Glinda, clearly done with her teasing, raised an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you two to... study. But next time, maybe knock before diving into the room like that. I don’t need to witness all your private moments.”

“Got it, Glinda,” you said, still trying to get your composure back.

Glinda smiled and gave a dramatic wave. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, not judging you,” she added with an exaggerated wink as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Once she was gone, you turned back to Elphaba, who was trying to suppress a chuckle. “Well, that was something,” you said, brushing your fingers through your hair.

Elphaba shook her head, a small smile lingering on her lips. “We really need to work on our privacy skills.”

“Agreed,” you said, settling back into your seat. “But for now… what were we saying before all that?”

Elphaba raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I believe we were about to continue where we left off… without interruptions, of course.”

“Right,” you grinned, leaning in once again, knowing full well that no matter how many times Glinda walked in, you’d always find your way back to Elphaba.

[earthlybeam]

Not sure if requests are open but if they are may I make one? I loved the ear teasing from the reader. I was thinking another way of the reader teasing the elves for thier attention but in a much more bold way. Like she wears a shirt that shows a nice view of her cleavage and even goes to grab their arm and hug it making sure to press her breasts on their arm or she would press her breasts to their chest or back. Ty!

I absolutely love the idea! I wasn’t sure which character you wanted, and will continue working on more. I’ll definitely post them as I go. Glorfindel, haldir, lindir, Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir are coming soon. Gil-Galad, Thranduil, Elrond, Celebrimbor versions below (you Female reader)

🏵️𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

The sun was dipping low over Lindon, casting the sky in soft hues of rose and gold. The sea breeze rolled in, cool against your skin, but you barely noticed as your attention remained fixed on one figure—the High King himself.

Gil-galad stood on the balcony overlooking the Gulf of Lune, his tall frame cloaked in silver blue threads gleaming like stars against the velvet fabric. His dark brown hair caught the fading sunlight, a crown of fire atop his proud head. His expression was as composed as ever—calm, unreadable—but there was always a quiet intensity about him, a gravity that only made him more alluring.

You decided to test that composure. Your steps were soft as you approached, the delicate sound of your shoes against the polished stone barely registering over the distant waves. The neckline of your gown dipped daringly low, offering an inviting glimpse of your curves. With boldness humming beneath your skin, you reached out, sliding your hand around his forearm before pressing yourself lightly against it.

His body tensed beneath your touch, the lean muscle of his arm firm beneath your fingers. You tilted your head slightly, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you leaned closer, allowing your breasts to graze against his arm—a deliberate, teasing touch.

“My lord,” you purred, your voice as smooth as fine wine. “You always seem so serious when you stand here alone. Is the weight of the crown too heavy tonight?” Gil-galad’s head turned slightly, his silver blue gaze sweeping down to meet yours. For a heartbeat, he said nothing, but you felt the subtle shift in his stance—the slight tightening of his jaw, the flicker of something darker in his expression.

“You play a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. Yet he made no move to pull away. If anything, the weight of his arm shifted subtly against your chest, deliberate as though testing your resolve.

A bolder spark flared within you, and you stepped closer, your body brushing against his side as you slid your hand higher along his arm. “Perhaps I like danger,” you whispered, allowing your lips to hover just near the curve of his jaw, teasing but not quite touching.

His hand moved with elegant precision—faster than you expected. Strong fingers caught your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly until you were standing directly in front of him. Your chest brushed against his, and the warmth of his body seeped through the thin silk of your gown.

“Do you?” His voice was softer now, but the edge beneath it was unmistakable—an undercurrent of restrained desire. His gaze traced the curve of your lips before lifting back to your eyes, sharp and assessing. “You would provoke your king this way?”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, but you refused to shrink beneath his scrutiny. Instead, you allowed your hands to trail up his chest, savoring the feel of him—solid and warm beneath your palms. “Only because I wonder if my king enjoys being provoked,” you countered, your tone playful but laced with challenge.

A quiet chuckle escaped him—a rare, low sound that made your pulse quicken. “You are bolder than most would dare.” His free hand drifted to the small of your back, his fingers brushing your spine in a touch as light as silk. “Do you think I have not noticed your… efforts?”

His words were intoxicating, a promise of something just beneath the surface. Your confidence flared, and you leaned in fully, your breasts pressing firmly against the hard plane of his chest. “Perhaps I wanted you to notice,” you admitted, your breath warm against his skin.

For a moment, the air between you hummed with tension—thick and electric. Then, with slow deliberation, his hand slid further around your waist, pulling you more firmly against him. “Consider me… intrigued,” he said softly, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. But beneath the smooth words, there was no mistaking the hunger in his gaze. “But be careful, my bold one. You may find the fire you play with burns hotter than you expect.” And yet, despite the warning, his grip did not loosen—if anything, it tightened, holding you against him as though he had no intention of letting you go.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

The grand halls of the Woodland Realm shimmer in the warm, golden light of the lanterns. The scent of ancient wood and fresh moss lingers in the air as the sound of soft Elven music drifts through the space.

Thranduil stands at the edge of his throne room, his tall, regal frame draped in fine silks and silver-threaded robes. His platinum hair gleams like moonlight as it flows over his shoulders, a sharp contrast to the cold, calculating gaze he directs toward the distant entrance.

He is the picture of unyielding authority—serene, aloof, and untouchable. But you know better. You’ve been testing his patience all evening, and while his face remains unreadable, you sense the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Your attire for the night was no accident—a finely tailored gown cut just low enough to leave little to the imagination. The delicate fabric clings to your curves, and each time you move, the neckline shifts ever so slightly, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts. And if there is one thing you know about Thranduil, it is that despite his cold exterior, he is not immune to temptation—especially when it comes to you.

You glide toward him with deliberate grace, your footsteps soft on the polished stone. When you reach his side, you don’t wait for permission. Instead, you loop your arm through his, pressing yourself against him with just enough pressure to ensure he feels the fullness of your breasts against the firm muscle of his arm.

“Is something troubling you, my lord?” you murmur, your voice smooth and honeyed as you tilt your head up to meet his icy blue eyes. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, and though his expression remains impassive, you do not miss the way his gaze flickers downward—brief but telling. For a moment, the air between you thickens, heavy with unspoken tension.

“You are bold tonight,” he replies, his tone smooth and composed, though there is an unmistakable edge to it. His hand twitches at his side as if resisting the urge to touch you, to pull you closer. “I wonder—do you seek to test my patience, or something else entirely?”

A wicked smile curves your lips as you shift closer still, the swell of your breasts brushing against his side with undeniable intention. “Perhaps I merely enjoy your company,” you purr, allowing your fingers to trail along the length of his forearm, feeling the tautness of the sinew beneath his robes. “Is that so wrong?”

He lets out a soft, nearly imperceptible exhale through his nose—a sign that your antics are not going unnoticed. Without a word, he shifts his arm slightly, as if to dislodge you—but instead, his hand brushes against your waist. The heat of his touch lingers through the thin fabric, even as he attempts to maintain his mask of indifference.

When you step in front of him, bolder still, you press your palms gently against his chest, feeling the smooth fabric stretched over the hard planes of his body. “You seem tense, my king,” you tease, tilting your head so that your breath skims over the elegant line of his jaw. “Allow me to ease your burden.”

Thranduil’s fingers flex at his sides, and this time, when his gaze falls to your cleavage, he does not bother to hide it. “Do you truly believe I am so easily swayed?” he asks, but his voice is quieter now—lower, darker.

You lean in, brushing your breasts deliberately against his chest as you reach up to adjust a lock of his platinum hair that has fallen out of place. The simple touch is intimate—too intimate—and the way his eyes flash with something far more primal makes your pulse quicken. “Not easily,” you admit, letting your lips hover just inches from his. “But perhaps… if I try hard enough…”

His restraint snaps, but only slightly. His hand lifts to your jaw, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face upward. His thumb brushes along your lower lip with a touch that is both possessive and punishingly gentle. “You play a dangerous game,” he warns, but there is no true heat in the words—only a dangerous hunger beneath his cool facade.

“And if I enjoy the danger?” you challenge, your voice barely a whisper between you. For a heartbeat, you wonder if you have pushed him too far. But then, in one smooth motion, he pulls you flush against him, your body molded to his as his other hand slides along the curve of your waist. The press of your breasts against his chest is no longer teasing—it is all-consuming.

“You seek to tempt me,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. “And you succeed far too easily.” His lips graze your skin in a touch that leaves you breathless, and when he pulls back, his expression is no longer cold—it is fire and ice entwined, smoldering beneath a thin veneer of control.

“You should tread carefully, my bold little temptress,” he continues, fingers tracing the line of your spine. “For once I decide to claim what is mine…” His lips curve into a faint, wicked smile. “I do not let go easily.” And by the gleam in his eyes, you know that tonight, you have awoken something in him—something he will not allow to go unanswered.

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

It’s a quiet evening in Rivendell. The fading light of the setting sun casts a golden hue over the polished marble floors and cascading waterfalls. You find Elrond seated in his study—an elegant, spacious room filled with ancient tomes, scrolls, and the lingering scent of aged parchment.

He’s dressed in flowing silver-and-blue robes, his long, dark hair falling in a sleek cascade over his shoulders. His sharp, timeless features are calm and composed as he reads from an intricately bound volume, though the furrow of his brow suggests his mind is deep in thought. You decide to catch his attention—boldly. You wear a shirt cut just low enough to leave little to the imagination, the curve of your cleavage peeking temptingly from the fabric.

The soft silk clings to your form in all the right places. With deliberate grace, you approach him, the gentle sway of your hips as you walk making your intentions clear. Elrond doesn’t glance up immediately, but you notice the subtle pause in the movement of his fingers as he turns a page—he is aware of your presence.

Without a word, you step behind his chair, leaning down slightly until your breasts press softly against his broad back. The warmth of your body seeps through the fine layers of his robes. You let your hands rest on his shoulders, your fingers tracing delicate circles through the fabric.

“Elrond,” you murmur, your voice soft, sultry—just for him. “You’ve been working far too long. Don’t you think it’s time for a distraction?”At your touch, his shoulders tense for the briefest of moments—a flicker of restrained reaction beneath his composed façade—but then, his posture relaxes beneath your hands.

He turns his head slightly, and when his gaze meets yours, his grey-blue eyes are darker than usual, as though stirred by a rising storm. “You are bold tonight, meleth nín,” he says, his voice smooth and deep, laced with something heavier beneath his usual calm. “Do you seek to test my resolve?”

Without answering, you move around the chair, standing before him. Before he can return to his book, you lower yourself onto the edge of his desk. The movement draws his eyes downward—he cannot ignore the teasing glimpse of your cleavage as you lean forward, intentionally brushing against his arm when you reach out to touch his hand.

His hand remains still beneath yours, but the heat radiating from his skin is undeniable. With deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers up his forearm, savoring the feel of the strength hidden beneath the silk. You pull his hand gently toward you, guiding it to rest on your thigh as you lean closer, your breasts brushing lightly against his chest. “Elrond,” you whisper again, your lips tantalizingly close to his ear. “I am only as bold as you allow me to be. Have I gone too far?”

His breath hitches—just for a moment—and his fingers flex against your thigh, betraying his composure. But when he speaks, his voice is low and measured.“You know well that you walk a fine line,” he replies, his hand remaining on your thigh, firm and warm. “Do you seek to unravel my restraint, ind-nîn?”

Your boldness only grows. You shift forward slightly, closing the remaining space between your bodies until your breasts are pressed fully against his chest. You tilt your head, brushing your lips along the edge of his jaw—a teasing, feather-light touch.

“And if I am?” you challenge softly. For a heartbeat, Elrond remains still—calculating, controlled. But then, his hand tightens ever so slightly on your thigh, his other hand rising to brush against your waist. His thumb traces a slow, deliberate path along your side, igniting a warmth that spreads through you.

His expression remains composed, but there is a glint of something far more primal in his eyes as he speaks, his voice just above a whisper. “Then you shall learn, meleth nín,” he murmurs, tilting his head so that his lips hover just above yours, “that even my patience has its limits.”

And with those words, his hand slides higher, his touch burning through the thin fabric between you. Though his restraint holds—for now—you can feel the weight of his desire hanging heavy in the air between you, and you know that it would take very little to make him abandon all pretense of composure.

💍𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓫𝓸𝓻

The forge hummed softly in the background, the air warm and laced with the faint scent of molten metal and polished wood. Celebrimbor stood at his workbench, his mithril hammer resting lightly in his hand as he inspected a delicate circlet—a new design, intricate and shining beneath the light. His focus was razor-sharp, as it always was when he worked, the smooth lines of his face set with intense concentration.

But then—you entered. The gentle click of your heels across the stone floor made his pointed ears twitch slightly, but he did not immediately turn. It wasn’t until you were close—very close—that he faltered. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the soft shimmer of your shirt—cut low enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of your cleavage. The smooth curve of your skin stood out against the dark fabric, and the way it hugged your figure was… impossible to ignore.

He swallowed hard, but his fingers, usually so steady, tensed. “Celebrimbor,” you murmured, your voice low and warm, laced with playful mischief. Before he could respond, you reached for him—delicate fingers wrapping around his forearm. You pressed yourself against him, the soft swell of your breasts molding against his lean, muscular arm as you held him close.

The tension in his body spiked—he stiffened beneath your touch, though not from discomfort. No, the slight hitch in his breath betrayed him. His pale skin, always so serene, bloomed with a faint flush across his high cheekbones. Still, his voice remained steady—barely .“What… are you doing?” he asked, his tone caught between genuine curiosity and a tremor of restraint.

You smiled—sweet, bold, unrepentant. “Just making sure you aren’t working yourself too hard,” you purred, leaning in until your lips were dangerously close to the pointed curve of his ear. “It would be such a shame if you neglected anything important.”

The hand holding his arm slid a fraction lower, brushing against the warmth of his skin through the thin sleeve. You shifted your stance slightly—just enough to press your chest more firmly against him. Your softness contrasted with the toned lines of his body, and for a heartbeat, you felt his muscles flex beneath your touch.

His jaw tightened as if he were trying to maintain control, but his free hand—usually so precise—curled into a fist by his side. “You’re… distracting,” he admitted, a rare vulnerability slipping through his usually composed façade.

Satisfied, you tilted your head and let your lips graze softly along his jawline—just a whisper of a touch that sent a shiver rippling through him. The sensation clearly rattled him; his perfect composure cracked ever so slightly.

“I should stop, then,” you teased, loosening your hold as though to pull away—but his reaction was immediate. “No,” he said—quieter, rougher than you expected. His hand moved at last, firm fingers curling delicately but possessively around your wrist. “Stay.”

His eyes, usually so distant in their focus, burned when they finally met yours—light gray but stormy now, clouded with something deeper. For a moment, all the walls he so carefully maintained crumbled under the weight of his desire.

You pressed your advantage, moving in front of him and sliding your arms around his waist—this time resting your chest against his. The heat of his body was intoxicating, the tension humming beneath his skin palpable. His breath came faster now, his heart hammering beneath your touch.

“Do you always let distractions linger this long, my lord?” you asked, your lips curling into a wicked smile. His lips parted as though to answer—but instead, he surprised you. Slowly—hesitantly—he dropped his mithril hammer onto the workbench behind him and brought both hands to your waist. His touch was firm, but reverent, as though he was still trying to convince himself this was real.

“I’ve never had a distraction quite like you,” he confessed softly, the words carrying a weight you hadn’t anticipated. And when you shifted again—pressing your body fully against his chest—you swore you felt his hold tighten, his self-control hanging by a frayed thread.

Whatever pride or restraint usually held him back was slipping away. And, judging by the way his hands lingered—fingers brushing just beneath the hem of your shirt—he wasn’t eager to regain it.

[brattyspence]

you say dad!spencer and i come running like the wind. with the time change this weekend i’ve been thinking about spencer with a little one whose sleep schedule does NOT adjust well with the time change and does the whole “the sun is out so i should be awake” debate and then chaos ensues because spencer thinks blackout curtains but then it’s too dark even with the nightlight

a/n: dad!spencer requests always open. always. not proofread bc i dont wanna ❤️

tags: girl dad!spencer, no mention of reader bc ???, fluff fluff fluffy

word count: ~ 600

masterlist

Spencer thinks he has it all figured out.

The morning begins smooth enough. Charlotte is coaxed out of bed with the promise of Nutella on toast and five extra minutes of story time before school. She's sleepy, full of yawns and grumpy toddler expressions, but she's up and cooperating.

“Why did we get up early?” She asks, socked feet wiggling off the edge of the sink as Spencer attempts to mix her mess of hair into a more presentable look.

“We didn't,” he replies. “We got up at the same time we always do.”

“No,” she huffs. “It's dark outside.”

Spencer sighs, nudging one loose curl back behind her ear. “Yeah. We lost an hour last night.”

“We lost an hour?”

He senses his mistake immediately.

“No. Not exactly. We didn't lose the hour-”

“Where did it go?”

“It didn't go anywhere. We just turned the clocks back an hour.”

“But why?”

It's futile, he knows. There's almost no point in explaining to to her. He knows she could understand, but she's a toddler. She will choose to fight and poke and prod, especially if it means making bedtime more complicated for him.

That night, the conversation picks right back up where it left off.

“But the sun is out,” Charlotte says, voice full of conviction. “When the sun is awake, I’m awake.”

“The sun is always awake,” Spencer replies. “It never goes to sleep. It's just visiting another part of the world.”

“But-”

“Honey.”

Charlotte frowns, watching him draw her curtains closed, leaving her room darker than it's ever been.

“Is the moon gone?” She asks, voice noticeably smaller.

Spencer sighs. He knows she's not not pushing his buttons anymore. The usual bite has left her tone, and instead he's reminded that shes three. She's actually asking a question this time.

“No. The moon is on its way. It's just… running late today.”

Even in the dark room, he can just barely see the reflection of her wide eyes staring back at him.

“You're sure?”

He nods, although she can't see. “I’m sure."

She's quiet now. He knows she's thinking, trying to work it all out in her own way, and she won't be sleeping if she's worried.

“Scooch over.”

Bedsheets ruffle and shift as Charlotte repositions herself, making room for him on the edge of her bed. She tucks herself up against him, wiggling around for a moment until she's content.

“I'll tell you all about the moon and the sun and how they work if you close your eyes and try to sleep,” he says.

Charlotte nods, squeezing her eyes shut.

As he begins to explain the time change, starting from the tilt of the earth and how it rotates, he knows she's listening. Her eyebrows furrow slightly, and she fidgets every so often.

“-and we orbit the sun. Orbit means that we rotate around it. And it takes us one whole year to orbit the sun.”

“I've been around the sun three times?” She asks, peeking one eye open.

“Mhm. So if you think about it, on your birthday, the earth is right back where it was on the day you were born.”

In a few more minutes, her grip on his shirt softens, and soon she's asleep.

Spencer knows he should leave her be– putting her to bed like this is only creating bad habits–but he doesn't. Instead, he makes sure she's tucked in, and then settles himself in against her pillows. Really, you only get a few trips around the sun before your kids grow up and stop asking hard questions.