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0scarp1astr1 · 2 months ago

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Wax Appointment

જ⁀➴ Desc: || In which you tell them about your brazilian wax appointment, they just have one problem, your waxer is a man. ||

ᯓ★ Featuring: Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Fernando Alonso.

ᯓ★ 2x Genre: Fluffy (slight humor)

ᯓ★ Warning: Suggestive humor/themes

ᯓ★ Requested? No

Author Note: First official writing, remember inbox is open! I hope you all enjoy. And if you want another part of this, you can just tell me what drivers you would like to see in this same scenario. My pinned tells you all the drivers I write for.

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Max Verstappen

It was halfway through the day when Max caught you freshening yourself back up. At first, he brushed it off, assuming maybe he worked out while he was gone and needed a shower. He was never the type to press you on the matter unless it was something that caused you discomfort, and he needed a reason to beat up someone for you. He was sweet in his own way, but a kind, gentle soul when he needed to be.

"Alright, I'm leaving," you said, reaching for the keys. Max had looked over from his spot on the couch, raising a brow. "You're leaving? "I didn't know you had plans?" he questioned. He knew deep down he would be safe. He trusted his friends, plus most of them were other wags. You always got along with Alexandra.

Letting a soft chuckle slip from your lips, you shook your head, looking at him. He looked even more confused before you explained. "I'm going to my Brazilian waxing appointment." You smiled at him. Max's brain took a moment to process. "And that is what exactly?"

You sighed, figuring you would have to explain the basics to your lovely boyfriend. "It's waxing, they do everything, front, back, and everything in between." You winked playfully. He blushed for a moment before nodding his head. "Have fun!" he replied, eyes adverting back to the television.

"I will. "I have to go, or he's going to make me pay extra! "If I’m late,” Before you have the chance to prance out the door, your boyfriend was right behind you. "He? "It's a GUY?!" he said rather loudly, moving to block the door. You looked at him, almost offended. “Yeah? "It's a wax, this is his job," you tried to reason.

Max shook his head. "No, I can do it!” he said as his eyes widened at his suggestion. "Max, you can't wax me down there" you shook your head in protest. Max scoffed. "Schatje! I've seen every inch of you naked. I know my way around your body. In fact, I know my way in! "I'm waxing you! End of story!" he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder.

"his job? I'm your boyfriend. this is MY job."

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Charles Leclerc

The crazy thing about Charles is that you told him about your Brazilian wax appointment, but it seems he forgot. Which isn’t a surprise considering he wasn’t paying much attention when he was spoken to, but you loved him regardless.

Opening the door, your eyes landed on Charles, who was playing his sim racing, giving a soft smile towards him as you spoke up. “Okay, I’m heading out for my Brazilian wax” you said as Charles hummed with a soft smile. “Enjoy yourself mon amour, give her a tip I like when she does your waxing” he stated.

“Ah. "Amy’s out of town, I have a new waxer, but he said he knows what he’s doing” you assume, with a shrug. Charles forgot everything at that point, his head turning fast with an expression of disbelief. “He? Mon amour! It’s another man! He can’t see what’s mine!”

“Charles, it’s just his job. "If I was uncomfortable, I’d never book this waxing” you shook your head, he let out a sigh. “I know that, trust me I know” he assured, silence falling over before he hummed to break the tension forming.

“Just don’t get a waxing at all..personally, I don’t need this guy investigating you like some temple”, he said, causing you to chuckle, “It’s nothing like that.” Let me get my wax so you and I can have a good time. "I feel it ruins the mood if I’m not up-to-date with my self-care!”

Charles shook his head. “Fine…but let me fuck you first before you go. "I need to leave behind something,” he said as you slapped his arm. “Charles!” You shook your head, he shrugged.

“What? I don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine! At least let me label it before you go mon amour!”

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Lewis Hamilton

Fairly respectful guy, so you honestly have no issue with him, and he knows half the people you see anyway. He pays for your hair, nails, anything really. He just didn’t realize you had a man doing the waxing instead.

Lewis casually lounged on the couch, Roscoe resting next to him and the TV playing some random film he found when channel surfing. When he saw you walk towards the door, he finally spoke up.

"Brazilian waxing, right?" he asked, wanting to double-check as he nodded your head in response to him. “You should be back in time before our date tonight. I know it’s not far from here,” he smiled softly.

"Actually, it’s a new place I'm trying. They have me booked with some guy," you said as he nodded his head. "So how much did they-wait a guy?" he looked at you as if you had just insulted Roscoe himself. Which only caused you to giggle in response to his reaction. “Yes. A man is doing my waxing.”

Lewis raised up from the couch as Roscoe looked over, his rest now disturbed. “I can live with you not waxing, you can just shave” he said as you cringed. “I hate shaving. "I need to be nice and pretty” you said as he groaned. “I’ve eaten it before! "Why does it matter now?” he said as he shook his head, Roscoe barking. “Lewis! "Roscoe is right there!” You gestured.

“Excuse me baby doll, you know I love Roscoe but I’m more worried about the man waxing you!”

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Lando Norris

It was a pretty simple day with Lando playing games with his best friend Max and you rummaged through the bathroom and digging through makeup. “Lando!” You shouted from the bathroom. He excused himself from the game, walking to the bathroom.

He opened the door as you looked at him with a frustrated expression. “Have you seen my makeup brushes?” You asked, earning a headshake from him. “I haven’t. "Where are you going anyway?” he asked. Lando didn’t mind you dolling up, but he also knew you rarely did. “Brandon is waxing me today. I scheduled my Brazilian wax for noon.”

Gears turned in his head as the bathroom door was fully open now, his weight leaned against it. “Excuse me? Brandon? "What kind of womanly name is that?” He asked as you snickered, shaking your head. “Not a woman,” he said as he gasped. “You’re cheating on me?!” He shouted. Earning a rather offended expression on your part. “That’s not cheating!”

“Letting him see MY woman’s elegant body is cheating!” He said as you groaned. “It’s a wax!” You scoffed. “Same thing.” My eyes only. "He’s going to try to steal you from me. "I know this because you’re absolutely sexy in my eyes and everyone will try.” He bickered back. A small smile broke out onto your face. “Are you sweet-talking to me?…” She smiled.

Lando sighed. “Yeah. "Is it working?” He raised a brow, hating to admit how it was working, you caved in. “Kinda yeah,” You said as he grinned. “Excellent.” "You are going to get that waxing, cause now I feel bad.” He said as you, awed at his sudden change.

“Thank you, Lando…” you smiled softly. “Of course.” "Now where are the wax strips you use?” He asked, scooting you out the way to rummage for them. “What?” he asked as he sighed, his eyes speaking for him. “Not happening Lando.”

“Do you want the wax or not? You don’t even have to pay me. You get a free Brazilian wax and I get to see you naked. It’s a win.”

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Carlos Sainz

The crazy thing is, Carlos looked into the booking since he was fine paying for it and just wanted a basic booking list to look at. It lined up perfectly with the vacation he booked for you two for the anniversary on the way. Everything was a miracle for him.

“You sure you want to come to the room?” he asked as Carlos chuckled, nodding his head. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before cariño”, he smiled softly. You kissed his cheek, gave a soft sigh and walked into the room, knowing exactly what to do already.

Overtime, Carlos had been texting on his phone and waiting, so when the door opened, he looked up and his smile dropped as he looked at the guy rather closely. “Who are you?” He asked suddenly, causing him to side eye his sassy tone given. “Ah, I’m doing the waxing today, my name is-“ Carlos had quickly moved from his spot.

“You? "No offense, but you can’t wax my woman,” he said. You glanced at him for his boldness. “Carlos-“ "No! I want a woman! I don’t exactly trust this process.” He glared at the guy. The man clears his throat. “I can assure you it’s a fast process,” he said.

Carlos crossed his arms. “I want a woman to wax. If not, "We’ll be taking our leave.” You looked at the guy, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry about that,” You said as the guy walked out of the room.

Your gaze shifted to Carlos, who looked more relaxed and comfortable, only giving you a silent shrug in return. “You scared him away…” you said, but you smiled lightly. “Not that I’m complaining, but you can’t scare away people I need for my wax”, you said as Carlos kissed your forehead.

“Dios mío, relax. I’ll make it up to you during our anniversary vacation. In the best way possible”

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Fernando Alonso

Dramatic, you knew how dramatic he was capable of being when you first started dating, and he damn near scared the waiter away. So with the waxer, you knew it was no different.

It was the usual morning of you both lounging around the bedroom, wrapped in the warmth of your cuddle session. “I don’t want to get up, but I can’t miss my wax either” you said as Fernando hums, his arms still around you. “Schedule it another time” he suggested, and you figured maybe it wasn’t a bad idea, so you did it.

Sadly, you lost track of time and when you finally got up two hours later, you internally screamed at yourself. Fernando only propped himself up on his elbows, watching you move around the bedroom in a panic. “You’re only a bit late,” he said. “A bit?! Fernando, I’m hours late! I had to call to make sure I could go!”

“And?” he sighed heavily. “The original waxer is out. Luckily, this one guy made time to squeeze me in today for a Brazilian wax”. At the moment when you said that, Fernando was well awake and jumping out of bed. “No! Absolutely not! "Do you hear yourself, Mi amada?” he asked, eyes wide. A part of you was aching to laugh just because of how dead serious he was.

“Who needs a wax anyway? "I can manage” he shrugs, causing you to snicker. It’s not funny! "He’s going to see you! "Every bit of you! "I can wax you! "I’m your husband!” He said as you giggled. “Boyfriend.” You corrected. “Soon to be husband! "My point is, you’re laughing, and I’m offering to wax!” He pointed out. “You’re such a drama queen Alonso,” You said. He stood in front of you, silence taking over, who was going to cave in? Only time was capable of telling.

Now here you are, lying down at home. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into letting you wax me at home,” You said as he shrugged. “I was helping you”, he said as you rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re lucky the world loves you.” He gave a satisfied smile.

“Happy to help, I’d be a fool to allow another man to touch you. Call it dramatics but you love it.”

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#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 headcanons #f1 fluff

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cherrysinner · 3 months ago

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─── FIRST TIME ♥︎

...or, well, their first time.

♥︎ pairing .ᐟ nerd!rafe x pervert!reader

♥︎ summary .ᐟ rafe texts reader to come over while he’s drunk, and the next day something special happens.

♥︎ warnings .ᐟ fluff, smut, MDNI! loss of virginity (m), protected piv, praise wc: 1.9k

♥︎ author's note .ᐟ the last post on my 3k celebration <3 i hope y’all like it!!

PERVERT MASTERLIST ♥︎ 3K MASTERLIST

he's all over the place. and for some reason, it's so adorable.

your brows furrowed the moment your phone was buzzing and you saw that the contact 'my love♡' was calling you when you're usually the one doing the calling. but the moment you answered and heard the slur in rafe's voice, it was like a lightbulb lit up over your head.

even though it was one in the morning, you made the trek to the men's dormitory because he was threatening to come to the women's if you didn't, and you knew that if he tried coming here, he'd probably end up sleeping in a ditch on the side of the road.

and the moment he opened the door, he was grinning from ear to ear, his cheeks flushed pink, and his pupils blown wide as if he was looking at the most precious thing in the world.

"honeyyy!"

the boy who so rarely initiated affection threw his arms around you, making your brows nearly rise to your hairline. for once, you were the one getting flustered.

"babe, what-"

"i missed you so much." rafe interrupted you by letting out an exasperated sigh, squeezing you in his arms. "why weren't you here with me?" he looked down at you, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his eyebrows knitted together.

"c'mon. c'mere." you urged, tugging rafe towards his neatly made bed, the six-foot boy stumbling onto it, letting out the most adorable laugh. you sat down on the edge of his bed as your boyfriend laid there, looking up at you with the sweetest smile on his lips. you pushed a strand of loose hair behind his ear, stroking his warm cheek, "y'know, i don't think i've seen you drunk before. it's adorable."

he hid his face into his sheets, but you brought your finger to tickle the side of his throat, forcing rafe to turn around and look up at you, "i was just playing some drinking games." he mumbled and fixed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, a small imprint left by them on his tanned nose.

you gasp dramatically, "you have friends?"

"shut up." he laughed, hiding his face once again, but now it was in your bare thigh, not having had time to change out of your pajama shorts before you made your way over to his dorm. "it was online friends, technically. but it still counts." the boy mumbled.

"you're such a loser." you say with a fond smile, "it might be my favorite thing about you."

your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you felt rafe's teeth around your thigh; he didn't bite, simply pretended to. you broke into a fit of giggles, throwing your head back as you stroked his hair, "what was that about?"

"'m not a loser." the boy whined, kicking his feet against the mattress.

"well, what if i say that you're my loser? that any better?"

"a bit." rafe sighed, his hot breath fanning against your bare skin, his warm lips pressing a small kiss on your thigh before he turned his head to look up at you, his brows furrowed, the boy clearly deep in thought. "what are you thinking about, rafe?"

"does it ever bother you that... i'm not really experienced."

you scoffed, shaking your head, "where's this coming from?"

"you're... clearly more experienced than i am-"

"are you calling me a slut?" you ask, feigning offense as you crossed your arms in front of your chest. rafe's eyes widened, and the boy sat up in bed, stammering. "n-no, of course not, i'd never-"

you interrupted his upcoming rant by bringing your lips to rafe's, your hand around his throat, squeezing only slightly, but even that was enough to make him let out a gasp of a breath against your lips.

as you pulled away from the kiss, you left another quick peck on his lips, the boy looking at you in a half-lidded daze through his long lashes.

"the answer is no. i don't give a fuck about that." you pushed rafe down so he was laying on the bed, making him let out a surprised yelp. you took off his glasses and placed them neatly on the nightstand and made yourself comfortable next to him, nuzzling into his chest, drawing small patterns on his chest through his band t-shirt, "sleep. silly."

"mmpf… alright…" rafe mumbled, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head as he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. it wasn't long until your boyfriend started to drift off to sleep, but the last words the boy heard were whispered to him by a familiar voice…

"i'll just have to make sure to teach you."

you wake up to the feeling of slight stubble running down your neck, making you smile as your eyes flutter open, finding your boyfriend kissing down your neck, "what are you doing?" you ask, your voice slightly husky from having just woken up.

"i think i'm ready." rafe mumbled against your skin, his hand trailing down to the waistband of your shorts. you instantly knew what he meant; hand- and mouth stuff always felt nice but whenever you saw your boyfriend's dick, you couldn't help but wish that you could feel him stretch you out, to feel the pretty, pink head of his cock kissing your cervix...

"are you sure you're not still drunk?" you teased as you watched rafe tug your shorts down your soft legs, throwing them to the side.

"no." rafe mumbled against your skin in his rough morning voice, nipping at your neck, "but as a half-sober man, i definitely consent to this."

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head, before grabbing his shoulders and rolling him down to the mattress and straddling him, switching positions so he was underneath you. "you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this..." you purr, running your manicured nails down his bare chest.

reaching for the nightstand, you pull the drawer open, holding up a purple square of foil and raising your brows suggestively. "you come prepared." rafe snorted, his cock starting to harden underneath you, his hands resting on your hips.

"i have a whole box of these in my own room. i hid one here just in case." you grinned suggestively, grabbing the hem of your shirt and taking it off, throwing it onto the ground. rafe's eyes went wide, and the boy could feel his throat get dry as you revealed your bare chest to him.

"i... i don't think i can ever get used to this." he mumbled quietly, his hand slowly trailing up your waist, his thumb pressing against your pebbled nipple.

"what, getting to see boobs in real life and not on your two computer screens?" you giggled, watching as your boyfriend's cheeks reddened underneath you, a pout on his lips, but giving rafe a small peck on his lips was enough to make it go away. "you need help putting this on?" you asked, ripping the condom wrapper open with your teeth and grinning at him.

it had been so long since you'd actually had something other than fingers or plastic inside of you that feeling his warm cock stretching you was almost... new. you couldn't help but gasp into his mouth, your lips pressed against his, barely even kissing, your breaths mingling together.

"fuck..." rafe mumbled, the noise drowned out by your lips on his. you smiled, moving your hips up, swallowing a breathy sigh the boy underneath you let out. you pulled your lips further from his, looking down at him as you moved your hips over him, the boy's blue eyes glassy and blissed out.

"you look so cute under me." you moan as you sink yourself down on him again, your hand tangling in his hair, tugging on the sand-colored strands as you move on top of him, rafe's grip on your hips tightening. you tugged his head back by his hair, the prettiest whine leaving rafe's lips, making you smile as you brought your lips to his once again. "clit." you whispered, placing a featherlight peck on his lips, the boy looking up at you with a dazed expression that was the most adorable thing in the world. "clit, baby."

rafe's eyes widened slightly, making you chuckle, before his hand moved closer to your pussy, your wet heat clenching around him as rafe brought his thumb to draw small circles onto your clit, small gasps escaping your lips.

"good boy..." one of your hands travelled down the nape of his neck, now trailing over the short strands, rafe shiverring under you in a way that made your entire body vibrate.

"feels so good..." rafe mumbled, bringing his lips to your chest, giving your hard nipple the tiniest of licks, "fuck..." you threw your head back in pleasure. at that moment, it didn't matter to you that you'd slept with people before him, or that he hadn't; because nothing in your life had felt as fulfilling as this.

"i-i'm getting close..." rafe moaned, the vibrations against your nipple causing shivers to run down your spine, rafes hips bucking up into you as you picked up the pace of your own hips, bringing your lips down on his, kissing the boy.

"'s okay..." you breathed out, continuing to move on top of him, pulling back slightly so your nose was pressed against his, looking at his closed eyes with such fondness, "let go for me, baby."

"f-fuck... oh, fuck..." rafe groaned underneath you as you continued moving your hips, bringing your hand to rest over his between your legs, guiding him to press more urgent circles on your clit as you looked down at the blissed out face of your boyfriend, his mouth open wide.

you couldn't help yourself, feeling the pressure in your stomach release as you started clenching around him, another round of gasps leaving rafe's lips, his eyelids twitching as his lips screwed into an adorable smile.

it wasn't long until the two of you were side by side in the small bed in rafe's dorm, your manicured nails drawing little hearts on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, a small smile on your lips. you lifted your head up slightly, and your eyes flickered to his blue ones, glimmering due to the sunlight flooding in through the blinds, the boy looking down at you with a small smile. "what are you looking at?" he asked softly.

"you." you whispered, "hey, rafe?"

"what is it?" rafe stroked your hair, that adorable dimple showing up on his cheek, making you wanna poke it. and it all felt so perfect, all made you feel like you could go the rest of your life looking at that dimple, like you could go the rest of your life looking at no one but him.

"i love you."

rafe's eyes widened, his smile slightly fading before another one appeared, now one that didn't show his dimple, the boy clearing his throat before muttering out a response.

"that's... that's sweet. thank you."

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tritoch · 9 months ago

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the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.

I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.

But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.

Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.

Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.

(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)

Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.

You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—

and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see

my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.

even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.

then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!

It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.

And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.

It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?

ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content

#ffxiv #endwalker spoilers #dawntrail spoilers #shadowbringers spoilers #heavensward spoilers #stormblood spoilers #meta: durai report #warrior of light ffxiv

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dazevi · 7 months ago

Note

vi x reader angst where reader and vi had something before lockup (maybe reader was desperately looking for her/a body for years and never got with anyone else because they loved vi). first time they see vi again, they’re kissing cait. vi has to make a choice (mayhaps someone tells vi how much, how long and how deep reader still loves vi)

SORRY THIS ASK IS LONG BUT NO ONE WRITES VI X CAIT X READER ANSGT AND IM FEENING FOR ITTTT CA

i've loved you for so long | vi x fem!reader, angst, squint of fluff, wc: 10k | masterlist

content warnings: not much! angst!!!, brief caitvi, childhood friend!vi, firelight kinda!reader, tiny mention of blood, bit of an open ending, uhhhhh ….

note: sorry this took so long but i hope u like it! (struggled a bit with the ending so i left it kind of open and hopeful :P

Growing up in the Lanes was never easy. The air was always thick wit smog and desperation. But somehow, in the middle of all the grime, there were moments of light—moments that felt almost normal… sweet, even.

For Vi, those moments often came when she was with you.

You were the kind of person who seemed to radiate something soft, something pure, even in a place as unforgiving as here. You were always helping someone—patching up a scraped knee, sharing what little food you had, or offering a warm smile that could ease even the sharpest edges of the Lanes’ harsh reality. Vi, on the other hand, was tough as nails, like she always was. But when it came to you, that toughness often cracked, revealing a gentler side that few people ever got to see.

You met when you were both kids, barely old enough to understand the full weight of the world you were born into. Vi had just finished scrapping with a group of older kids who had tried to steal a loaf of bread from Powder. Her knuckles were bloody, and her lip was split, but she wore her bruises with pride as she swaggered down the street.

Then she saw you—someone small and delicate crouched beside a stray cat with a limp, gently wrapping its leg with a strip of cloth you’d torn from your own sleeve. Vi had stopped in her tracks, her usual bravado faltering as she watched you work with such careful concentration. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone show that kind of… tenderness.

“Hey,” she had said curiously, “what’re you doing?”

You looked up at her, your eyes wide and a little startled, but then you smiled. “Helping,” you said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

From that moment on, Vi couldn’t seem to stay away from you.

She’d show up wherever you were, always with some excuse—she was just passing through, or she needed your help with something, or she was making sure no one was giving you trouble. In truth, she just liked being around you. You didn’t flinch when she got into fights, didn’t scold her for her temper or her stubbornness. Instead, you had this way of looking at her, like you could see past all of that to the person she really was. And Vi, who had always felt like she had to be tough to survive and protect her family, found herself wanting to be softer when she was with you.

The two of you became inseparable, spending your days exploring the winding alleys and hidden corners of the Lanes. Vi would teach you how to throw a punch, insisting that you needed to know how to defend yourself. You’d laugh as she guided your fists, her hands warm and steady against yours, though she always ended up pulling her punches when it came to sparring.

“Can’t risk messing up that pretty face of yours,” she’d tease, though her voice would always carry a hint of something serious, like the idea of you getting hurt was unbearable to her.

“You’re an idiot,” you’d say back.

And she’d laugh, nudging you playfully against your shoulder, her all ears red as she looked at you, “But I’m your idiot.”

You, in turn, taught Vi the value of kindness, though you didn’t do it with words. You did it with your actions—with the way you’d stop to help a stranger, even when you didn’t have much to give, or the way you’d bandage up Vi’s cuts and bruises after a fight, your touch so gentle it made her chest ache. She’d sit there, watching you work, and wonder how someone like you could exist in a place like this.

And it also helped that Powder adored you too.

She’d often tag along on your adventures with her wide-eyed curiosity. You had a way of making her feel seen, of treating her like she was just as capable and important as the rest of you, and that meant the world to her. Vi loved watching the two of you together, the way you’d laugh and tease each other, the way you’d patiently explain things to Powder when she didn’t understand. It made Vi’s dreams of a better life feel almost tangible, like maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more than survival.

And then there were the jobs… or whatever she could get from Ekko.

They were never easy—running contraband, sneaking into places she had no business being. Vi loved the adrenaline of it, the thrill of a plan coming together, but there was always a part of her that thought about you while she was out there. She’d see something—a trinket, a piece of candy, a flower growing stubbornly in the cracks of the pavement—and she’d think of you.

She started bringing things back for you, little gifts she’d pretend didn’t mean anything. The first time, it was a shiny button she found while breaking into a some storage room. It was small and completely useless, but it was the kind of thing she thought you’d like. She tossed it to you when she came back, trying to act casual.

“Found this,” she said, her voice gruff. “Figured you could use it for… I don’t know, something.”

You’d looked at her, a little confused at first, but when you smiled and said, “Thanks, Vi,” she felt something warm settle in her chest.

After that, it became a habit.

She’d bring you scraps of fabric, little bits of wire and string, or a half-broken gadget Powder thought she could fix up for you. Once, she brought you a single daisy she’d found growing in a crack on the edge of the Lanes. She’d nearly crushed it during the job, and when she handed it to you, she was so embarrassed she couldn’t meet your eyes.

“It’s just a flower,” she mumbled, scratching the back of her neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But you always did. Vi would pretend it didn’t matter, but her ears would turn red all over again, and she’d fumble with excuses about why she’d brought you something in the first place.

She didn’t know how to say what she was feeling, didn’t even fully understand it herself. All she knew was that you made the Lanes feel a little less bleak, a little less hopeless.

And as the years passed, the your relationship with Vi only grew stronger. There were always moments when the certain feelings between you became almost impossible to ignore—like the time you patched her up after a particularly nasty fight, your fingers lingering on her cheek as you wiped away the blood, telling her firmly to always be careful, as your eyes search hers. Or the time she caught you staring at her with that soft look in your eyes and she felt her cheeks flush, her confidence faltering as she looked away, muttering something about how you shouldn’t look at her like that. You’d raise an eyebrow in response, then just laugh softly.

But neither of you ever said anything outright. Instead, you found comfort in the smaller things—stolen glances, the way your hands would brush against each other as you walked side by side, the way Vi’s walls would melt away when it was just the two of you.

You were more than just a friend. You were her safe place, her reminder that there was still good in the world, even in the darkest corners of the Lanes. And for you, she was your protector, your anchor, the person who made you feel like maybe you weren’t as fragile as the world wanted you to believe.

But the Lanes always had a way of taking everything good and twisting it into something painful.

The night everything went to shit was the last time life in the Lanes felt even remotely bearable. It had been tense from the start. Vander was gone, taken by Silco, and Vi’s face was set in that grim determination she always wore when she was trying to be strong for everyone else. You knew she was scared, no matter how much she tried to hide it.

You were in the back room of the Last Drop, pacing. Vi had told you to stay put, her voice sharper than usual, her gaze practically boring a hole through you.

“Don’t follow us,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Just… stay here. Look after Powder, okay? I can’t worry about you and her while we’re out there.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her you could help, that you weren’t as fragile as she thought you were. But the look in her eyes stopped you. So, you nodded, biting back the words you wanted to say, and watched her leave with Mylo and Claggor.

Powder sat on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, clutching one of her gadgets like it was a lifeline. She kept glancing at the door like she was expecting Vi to come back at any moment, triumphant and unscathed.

But you both knew better.

The hours dragged on, the silence between you and Powder filled only with the occasional sound of glass breaking in the distance or the low hum of Zaun’s underbelly. You tried to keep your hands busy, cleaning up the room, organizing scraps of whatever was lying around. Anything to stop your mind from racing. Powder didn’t really say much; she just watched you with wide, anxious eyes, her fingers fidgeting with the gears of her monkey bomb.

Eventually, exhaustion began to creep in. You figured you were working too much. You remembered Vi’s words in your head, telling you that she’s always careful, that she’ll always come back to you. And you tried to stay awake, tried to keep an eye on Powder like Vi had asked, but your body betrayed you.

Powder had been quiet the whole night, but as you drifted off, she glanced at you. She hated being left behind, hated the way Vi always told her to stay because she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t capable enough. She wanted to prove herself, to show that she could help, that she could save them. And with you asleep, curled up in Vi’s bed, she saw her chance. Quietly, Powder slipped off the couch, grabbing her monkey bomb and a bag of supplies. She hesitated for a moment, looking back at you. She didn’t want to leave you, but she couldn’t sit there and do nothing.

Not when Vi needed her.

She crept out of the room, careful not to make a sound, and disappeared into the shadows.

The first thing you noticed as you stirred was the faint, low rumble of something distant but violent—a sound that felt like it rattled through the very walls of the Last Drop. You blinked, eyes fluttering slowly as you pushed yourself up. The second explosion was sharper, louder, and your heart leaped in your chest. It was a sound that didn’t belong to the Lanes.

Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light of the room. Everything felt too still now, too quiet, except for the faint aftershock of what you had just heard. You rubbed at your face, trying to shake off the grogginess, and then you noticed it—bright, electric blue sparks flickering in the distance, visible through the small, grimy window. Your stomach dropped as a sense of dread washed over you. Your breaths came quicker now, shallow and uneven, as you sat up fully, scanning the room.

“Powder?” you called out softly, hoarse from sleep.

You looked around, the familiar clutter of the space offering no sign of her.

“Powder?” you called again, louder this time, but the silence that followed made your chest tighten.

You stumbled to your feet, nearly tripping over a discarded piece of scrap on the floor. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign that she was still there—a glimpse of her small frame huddled in the corner, the sound of her fidgeting with one of her gadgets.

But there was nothing.

The couch where she’d been sitting earlier was empty, the blanket you’d draped over her crumpled and abandoned. The faint smell of oil and metal lingered in the air, but it was missing the warmth of her presence.

“No, no, no,” you muttered under your breath, your mind racing as you pieced together what must have happened.

You remembered the way she had been clutching that monkey bomb earlier, the way her eyes had flickered with something desperate and restless.

She left.

Your knees nearly buckled as you made your way to the window, pressing your palms against the cold glass. The sparks of blue still flickered in the distance, bright against the dark, polluted haze of the Lanes. The explosions hadn’t stopped, and now there were faint trails of smoke rising into the air.

“Powder,” you whispered, her name heavy on your tongue.

She had gone after Vi, you were sure of it. The thought hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. She was out there—your sweet, fragile Powder—in the middle of whatever chaos was unfolding.

And Vi… Vi had told you both to stay behind.

Now, you were running as fast as you could.

And when you got there, everything was on fire.

Buildings were crumbling under the weight of the flames, black smoke billowing into the sky and choking the air around you. The heat was suffocating, stinging your eyes and making it hard to breathe. You stood there, frozen, your wide eyes scanning the devastation. The ground was stained with dark, wet streaks that gleamed in the firelight—blood. It was everywhere, smeared across the cobblestones, trailing through the debris, pooling in some places as if marking the spots where someone had fallen.

But there were no bodies.

No sign of Vi. No Mylo. No Claggor. No Powder. Just… nothing.

Your chest heaved as you tried to take it all in, your mind struggling to make sense of the chaos. The silence was deafening, broken only by the relentless crackle of flames and the occasional groan of a collapsing structure. You called out for them. You spent hours waiting, searching and trying.

But, there were no voices, no footsteps, no cries for help.

Just emptiness.

Nothing.

The days blurred into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years. Time moved forward, but you stayed stuck in the same moment—the night everything fell apart. The fire, the blood on the streets, the faces of everyone you loved burned into your memory like scars you couldn’t erase. It didn’t matter how much time passed. You never stopped seeing them. Never stopped feeling the weight of their absence.

Life in the Undercity didn’t wait for grief. It didn’t give you the chance to sit still and process the ache in your chest or the emptiness that had swallowed your world whole. The streets you grew up on were darker now, quieter, yet somehow more dangerous. Shimmer twisted its way into every crack and corner, poisoning the air you breathed.

You still had Ekko. He stuck close, as much as he could, and you were grateful for him in ways you couldn’t put into words. But even with him around, the loneliness lingered anyway.

Nights were the worst. The silence of your small, dimly lit room pressed down on you, and your mind replayed every memory of Vi, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. Sometimes, you could almost hear their laughter echoing in the distance.

Almost.

You never stopped looking for her.

At first, it was constant. Every waking moment you scoured the streets, searching for any trace of her. You asked anyone who would listen if they’d seen her, but no one had. Not a single person could tell you where she had gone or what had happened to her. Some said she was dead. Others said she’d been taken topside, to Piltover’s dungeons. You didn’t know which was worse.

You looked for Powder, too. Sometimes, you felt like you’d seen traces of her somewhere, certain colors she liked, drawings on the wall… It was like she was there, but she wasn’t… like she didn’t want to be found.

And years passed, but the hope never left you. Not fully. Even when the streets seemed colder, even when Ekko begged you to stop putting yourself in danger, you kept searching. You’d walk the streets at night, hood pulled tight over your head, hoping to catch a glimpse of her pink hair or hear her sharp voice in the crowd. Every time you saw a tall figure in the shadows, your heart would leap, only to sink seconds later when it wasn’t her.

You wondered, sometimes, if she was looking for you too. If she was out there somewhere, wondering what had happened to you. If she missed you the way you missed her. Those thoughts were the only thing that kept you going on the hardest days.

The Undercity changed around you. The shimmer trade grew stronger, its effects spreading like a disease. People you’d known your whole life turned hollow, their eyes glassy, their voices slurred. Survival became harder with each passing day. But even as the world around you crumbled, you held onto the memory of Vi.

Her voice. Her laugh. The way she used to look at you when she thought you weren’t paying attention, as if you were something more than just a friend. The way she used to bring you small, silly things from her jobs—half the time things she swore she’d found by accident, even though you knew better.

You missed her so much it hurt.

Then, one night, Ekko came to visit you.

He had news about Powder.

He’d seen her, he said. And it didn’t make sense at first.

He sat across from you in the dim, flickering light of the small hideout you’d both retreated to. His voice was almost hesitant, but heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. Regret? Anger? Grief? Maybe all three, twisted together in a way that made him seem older than he was, like the years had weighed heavier on him than they should have.

You were hunched over, elbows resting on your knees, your face buried in your hands. It had been another fruitless day, searching for a ghost you weren’t sure even existed anymore. Your body ached, your head throbbed, and the emptiness in your chest felt like it might swallow you whole.

And then Ekko said it—he said her name.

“Powder… she’s not the same anymore.”

At first, you thought he meant something else. Maybe she’d grown up like the rest of you, toughened by the streets and the weight of survival. Maybe he’d seen her, and she was angry, distant, bitter about the past. You could’ve handled that. You could’ve understood that.

But that wasn’t what he meant.

“She goes by Jinx now.”

You lifted your head slowly, confusion knitting your brow. “What are you talking about?”

Your voice was sharp, tinged with a nervous laugh that didn’t quite land.

“Powder wouldn’t call herself that. That’s not… that’s not her.”

Ekko’s gaze didn’t waver. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, “It is her. She’s with Silco now.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. “No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “She wouldn’t—she’d never—”

“She’s different, (Y/n).” His voice cracked, just barely, but enough to make you flinch. “She’s not the kid we knew. Silco got in her head, twisted her up. She’s… dangerous now.”

You sat back, your body rigid, your mind spinning. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Powder was sweet, shy, maybe a little clumsy, but always full of love and hope. Powder adored you. Powder idolized Vi. She’d never turn into someone like… like that.

“Where did you hear this?” you demanded, your voice low but trembling. “Who told you?”

“I saw her,” Ekko said flatly. “It’s her, (Y/n). She’s been running with Silco’s people for years. She’s the one behind half the chaos in the Lanes right now. You’ve heard about the explosions, the heists—the people disappearing. That’s Jinx.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

“That’s Powder.”

You stared at him, the words refusing to sink in. It felt like someone had ripped the ground out from under you, leaving you floundering in freefall.

“You’re wrong,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Powder wouldn’t… she wouldn’t do that.”

“I wish I was wrong,” Ekko muttered, his voice thick with bitterness. “But I’m not. She’s gone. The Powder we knew—she’s gone.”

“No,” you snapped, anger rising to the surface as your chest tightened with panic. “She’s not gone. She’s just… confused, or scared, or… something. She wouldn’t just…”

Ekko’s face softened, but his eyes were filled with sadness. “I thought the same thing when I first saw her. I wanted to believe she could still come back, that maybe I could fix it. But she’s too far gone. Silco’s got his hooks right into her. She’s not the kid we grew up with anymore. She’s…”

He paused, the words catching in his throat.

“She’s dangerous.”

You shook your head again, your hands trembling as you pressed them against your thighs. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Powder was your friend, your family. She was bright and sweet and full of so much love. She wasn’t… she wasn’t a monster.

The thoughts clung to you every night. Powder—Jinx—had become someone unrecognizable, and you couldn’t stop the questions from flooding your mind. What would Vi think if she knew? Would she be disappointed in you for not doing more, for not stopping Powder before it was too late? Would she think you’d failed her?

Vi. Her name echoed in your mind. You missed her in a way that was so all-encompassing it became a part of you. You missed the way she used to tease you, the way she’d smirk like she had the world figured out, even when she didn’t. You missed patching her up after a fight. You missed how she’d smile at you, telling you that things to brighten your day. You missed everything.

It was only recently that you realized why the ache felt so sharp, so endless. You loved her. You’d loved her for years, even if you hadn’t admitted it to yourself until now. It was why you couldn’t let her go, why no one else had ever been able to fill the void she left behind.

People had tried. There were a few who flirted with you, a few who asked you to dinner or drinks. But you’d always brushed them off, always found an excuse. None of them were her. None of them had her fire, her strength, the way she made you feel seen and safe all at once.

The years hadn’t been kind to you, but you’d done your best to survive, to keep going even when it felt like the world was crumbling around you. You’d thrown yourself into helping Ekko and the Firelights, finding purpose in their mission even when you felt lost.

You patched them up when they were injured, your hands steady as you cleaned wounds and wrapped bandages. You shared what little food you had, sometimes going without so they wouldn’t have to. You became someone they could rely on, even if you didn’t always feel strong yourself.

But that strength went away a couple months later—the day you saw her again. It was something you didn’t prepare yourself for. You hadn’t expected it at all.

The sunlight filtering through the cracks of the hideout’s makeshift roof caught on the edges of your hair as you worked, pulling ripe fruits and vegetables from the small garden that the Firelights had nurtured in secret. The air was damp but fresh, filled with the earthy scent of soil and the faint hum of life. You liked working in the garden—it gave you a moment of peace, a small break from the weight of everything outside.

When you were done, your hands were covered in dirt, and a bead of sweat traced its way down your temple. You wiped your brow with the back of your arm, sighing softly. A few of the others nodded at you in thanks as they carried the baskets of food away. You stayed behind, crouched by the water pump, scrubbing the grime from your hands and under your nails.

The cool water washed over your skin, and for a moment, you let yourself pause, closing your eyes as the sound of the stream drowned out your thoughts. But it didn’t last long. The quiet never did.

Once you were cleaned up, you shook off the weariness and decided to find Ekko. You’d been meaning to talk to him about something—or maybe you just wanted to hear a familiar voice. The hideout could feel suffocating at times, even though it was a sanctuary for many. Ekko had a way of cutting through it, reminding you that there was still something worth fighting for.

But as you made your way through the winding halls of the hideout, you stopped short, your breath catching in your throat.

In one of the side rooms, barely lit by the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the cracks, you saw them.

A girl with blue hair stood close to another figure, her delicate fingers brushing against the cheek of the person in front of her. You couldn’t make out their faces at first, your mind taking an extra second to register what you were seeing. But then the pink hair caught the light, vibrant even in the dim room, and your chest tightened.

Vi.

Your Vi.

And she wasn’t alone.

The blue-haired girl leaned in, her lips brushing against Vi’s in a kiss so soft, so tender, that it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Vi didn’t pull away, her hand resting gently on the girl’s waist, her shoulders relaxing in a way you hadn’t seen in years.

You froze, rooted to the spot, your feet unwilling to carry you forward—or away. Your mind raced, a thousand thoughts clamoring for attention, but none of them loud enough to break through the sudden ache in your chest.

She was here. She was alive. But she wasn’t yours.

You didn’t know whether to cry out, to step into the room and demand an explanation, or to turn and run before they could see you. You wanted to be happy that she was safe, but all you could feel was the slow, creeping weight of heartbreak as it settled over you.

Because in that moment, it was clear—Vi wasn’t yours to miss. Not anymore.

“You have some explaining to do.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, but they spill out before you can stop them.

You stand at the threshold of Ekko’s lab, chest heaving, heart racing in disbelief. The image of Vi with another woman—kissing her, holding her—flashes in your mind and it’s all too much.

Ekko stands abruptly, looking as startled as you feel. His eyes widen, and his hand instinctively scratches at the back of his neck, a nervous tick you’ve known him to do since you were kids.

“I—I was gonna tell you today,” he stammers, voice cracking slightly as he fumbles for his words. “We just got her last night… when we ambushed Jinx…”

Your breath catches, a knot of frustration and hurt tightening in your chest. “You ambushed Jinx? And now you’re bringing Vi back in like this? Without telling me?”

The words come out harsher than you intend, but it doesn’t matter right now. Your mind is spiraling.

Ekko holds up his hands, trying to calm you, his gaze softening. “I was going to tell you! I just… After everything with Jinx… I didn’t know if she was someone I could trust yet.”

His words hit you like a slap, and for the first time since you walked in here, a part of you slows down. After everything that happened, Vi could very well be someone you couldn’t trust. Someone who might have changed in ways you couldn’t understand. It stings to admit, but the doubt starts to creep in. You know Ekko—his loyalty runs deep, but he’s also careful. He always has been. You take a step back, your fists uncurling as you exhale sharply.

You swallow your frustration and let the silence settle between you, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Can we trust her?

The question hangs in the air, unspoken but felt, before you finally speak it.

“So… can we?” Your voice is quieter now, more hesitant. You want to hear reassurance, but you’re not sure if it’ll come.

Ekko doesn’t answer immediately. He exhales, a long, drawn-out sigh that betrays a weariness you hadn’t noticed before. When he finally looks up at you, his gaze holds something you hadn’t expected—a tenderness, a vulnerability. His lips curl into a small, almost wistful smile, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s seeing something you can’t.

“I think so,” he says softly, his voice quiet but steady. “I think we can.”

You sigh, blinking a few tears away.

“Who’s that… that girl she’s with?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

You keep your eyes on the floor, unwilling to meet Ekko’s gaze, because the truth feels like it might crush you. The girl you’ve loved for as long as you can remember, is with someone else now. And it’s hard to wrap your mind around it, let alone confront it head-on.

Ekko’s silence stretches out for a moment, the room growing thick with the tension that neither of you knows how to ease. But then, slowly, his eyes soften, and you can hear the careful way he breathes in, like he’s about to tell you something heavy. His voice is gentle when he speaks, like he’s trying to cushion the blow without sugarcoating it.

“Her name’s Caitlyn,” Ekko says, and there’s a noticeable pause before he continues, as though he’s gathering his thoughts, picking out the right words. “She’s… She’s an enforcer, but…she’s different. I don’t think she’s on Silco’s side.”

Your stomach tightens at the mention of Caitlyn’s name, and you can feel a bitter knot in your throat.You finally glance up at Ekko, your eyes searching his face, desperate for any trace of what this means.

“Are they…?”

Ekko looks at you for a long, quiet moment, like he’s weighing your reaction against his own thoughts. He doesn’t look at you with pity, though; there’s no judgment in his gaze. Just understanding.

“I don’t know,” he admits casually. “But I think Vi’s been through a lot. And Caitlyn… I don’t know what they have, but I can’t pretend I understand it. I’m still trying to figure out where Vi stands with all of this… All I know is Vi wants her sister back.”

You can’t look at Ekko anymore. The pain of it is too much, a heavy weight that presses down on you like the sky is collapsing. You back away, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, your hands trembling slightly.

“I thought… I thought she’d come back for me, for us,” you say softly, almost to yourself. The bitterness in your voice is unmistakable.

Ekko doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but you can feel his sympathy.

Finally, he speaks again, quieter, softer. “I don’t think she’s forgotten you. I think she’s just trying to figure out everything for herself… Besides, she was… actually wondering if you were still around.”

“She was?” Your voice is quieter than you intended, almost shaky as you try to grasp what he just said.

Ekko nods, though his face is filled with something close to guilt, like he knows how this news might break you. “Yeah. She asked about you when she came in… said she didn’t know what happened to you after… everything.”

You let out a shaky sigh, your chest tightening at his words.

“Where has she been… all this time?” The question slips out quietly before you can stop it.

Ekko hesitates, his eyes softening as he looks at you. There’s a long pause before he finally answers, each word like a slow puncture to your heart. “Stillwater.”

The name hits you like a punch to the gut. You freeze, unable to process at first, the words echoing in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your skull. It’s a place that steals everything from you, even the will to remember who you were before. Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

Vi… Vi was there?

The thought twists something deep inside you, like a sharp ache that spreads through your chest and down into your stomach. It felt impossible to imagine Vi—your Vi—there. The strong, fearless girl you grew up with, the one who fought for every scrap of life she could hold onto. The thought of her, trapped in that hellhole, stripped of the fire that had always burned in her… it’s unbearable.

“You should… probably be talking to her about all of this.”

You freeze at Ekko’s words, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of speaking to her again, of standing face to face with her after all these years, makes your blood run cold. Your chest tightens, and suddenly, breathing feels like a chore.

“I…” You try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat.

What could you say to her? After all this time? The distance between you both feels impossibly wide now, like a canyon you’ll never be able to cross. The thought of seeing her, of facing the reality of what’s changed, of all the years that slipped through your fingers—it paralyzes you. You want to see her. You want to run to her and hold her, tell her everything you’ve kept locked away for so long, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not ready for that.

Your hands are shaking now, and you clutch at the edge of the table for support, your palms slick with sweat.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” you say.

Your voice cracks under the weight of your own fear. The thought of facing Vi, of seeing her and realizing how much has changed, of feeling the space that’s grown between you both—it feels impossible.

Ekko watches you, his expression softening with understanding, but there’s something else in his eyes, something unreadable.

“I get it,” he says quietly, taking a step closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to rush into anything. I know you’ve been carrying this around for a long time.”

But the truth is, you don’t just carry the weight of all that time apart—you carry the weight of your own fear. Fear that she’ll see you as a stranger. Fear that you won’t know how to talk to her anymore. Fear that everything that once felt so easy between you and Vi will have changed beyond recognition. The thought of her not loving you anymore, or of you not being able to love her the same way, makes your stomach churn.

You bite your lip, unable to finish the thought, as your mind races in a thousand different directions.

“Does she know I’m here?”

Ekko’s gaze shifts, and for a moment, there’s a hint of hesitation in his eyes. He looks like he’s struggling with something, something he doesn’t want to say, but he knows he has to. He shifts on his feet, a sigh escaping him as he scratches the back of his neck again, the tension in his posture telling you more than his words ever could.

“I… I told her you’re around,” Ekko finally says, “Not here exactly, though. I wanted to warn you before…”

Before everything changes.

But a knock at the door stills the air in the room. It’s sharp, sudden, and it cuts through the heavy silence that’s settled between you. You don’t move at first and Ekko hesitates for a moment, then turns, just as the door creaks open.

And then, there she is.

You freeze, unable to breathe, unable to move as your eyes lock onto hers. It’s like the whole world stops for a moment—your heart, your thoughts, everything. She’s standing there, in the doorway, her eyes wide as they sweep over you. It’s as if she’s seeing you for the first time, like she can’t quite believe you’re here. That you’re real.

Her gaze flickers across you—your eyes, your face, the way you’ve changed over the years. You can see the shock in her features, the way her breath catches for a split second before she can speak.

“(Y/n),” she whispers, her voice raw, as if the sound of your name in her mouth is a shock to her as much as it is to you.

There’s a long pause. Neither of you move, neither of you speak, as if neither of you knows how to start, what to say. Vi stands there, her eyes fixed on you, and you can see the wheels turning behind her expression. She doesn’t look the same as the girl you once knew, but her eyes—those blue eyes—are still the same, full of emotions you can’t quite place.

Vi’s eyes trail down your form, and you can see her struggling to hide the way her gaze softens as she takes in how you’ve grown, how you’ve changed. You’re different now—more than just the girl she once knew in the Lanes—but somehow, at the same time, you’re still the same person. The one who was always kind, always caring. The one who had a heart too big for the world they were in.

You watch as her eyes linger on you, not saying a word, just staring. A small breath escapes her lips, like she’s struggling to hold back some emotion, some surge of feelings that are too heavy for her to put into words. She opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it again, like the words are stuck inside her.

“I, um… I have work to do, Ekko.” Your voice cracks, and you can feel the tears stinging at the back of your eyes.

You tear your gaze away from Vi, your heart pounding in your chest as if it’s trying to break free. The weight of everything, of all the lost time, of everything you thought you had buried, feels like it’s crashing down on you in waves.

You can’t look at her anymore. Not like this. Not when everything in you is screaming to hold her, to ask her why she left, to beg her to stay. But you can’t. Not yet. Not when the hurt is still so raw.

You turn quickly, brushing past Vi with a sharp movement, your steps frantic, but trying to remain composed. Your heart races in your chest as you feel the heat of her eyes on your back, but you don’t look back. You can’t. The moment you do, you’re afraid you’ll break, and you can’t afford to break now.

The door slams shut behind you, and you can hear the soft echo of your hurried footsteps fading as you walk away. You don’t look up, don’t let yourself feel the weight of the emptiness in the room, even though you know it’s all there.

But you’re not ready. Not yet.

Ekko watches the door for a moment, his gaze thoughtful and a little sad. He doesn’t say anything, knowing that nothing he could say will ease the tension in the room.

Vi stands there, still frozen, her mind processing everything all at once. The way you walked out, the way you didn’t look back, how quickly you shut yourself off. She swallows hard, as if trying to force her emotions to settle. But they don’t. They’re all tangled up in her chest. She wants to go after you. She wants to explain.

“(Y/n)…” Vi whispers the name, barely above a breath, as if saying it out loud will somehow make it real, bring back the girl she thought she had lost forever. “She’s… grown.”

“We all have.”

His eyes flicker to Vi, his expression unreadable. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words, but nothing feels quite right. He knows how this is going to land—knows it’s going to hurt, even though he wishes it didn’t have to be this way.

“I think she saw you and Caitlyn,” he says quietly. “Together, I mean.”

Vi’s body stiffens at the mention of Caitlyn’s name, her eyes snapping to Ekko in disbelief. The shock is instant, followed by a sharp pang of guilt that twists in her chest. Her mind races, trying to make sense of the situation—of the way you had looked at her, of how you had walked out without saying anything more, as if something between the two of you had shattered. And now this. She opens her mouth to speak, but the words get stuck, tangled in her throat.

Ekko slumps back in his chair, his fingers tapping restlessly against the worn surface of his desk. He doesn’t know what to say to either of them. His gaze remains fixed on Vi, her posture still stiff, eyes distant.

“She thinks you’re together…” Ekko looks at Vi with curiosity. “Are you?”

Vi’s heart stutters in her chest, and she looks away quickly, swallowing hard.

“No,” she answers, almost too quickly. “No, we’re not together.”

Her voice wavers slightly, the truth of her feelings suddenly coming to the surface, uninvited but undeniable. Caitlyn is kind and gentle, but it’s never been like that with her. She only met her this week. Vi doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not love—not like what she’s felt, and still feels, for you.

The kiss was… a moment of comfort, of trying to hold onto something familiar in a world that’s changed beyond recognition. It meant nothing. Or at least, it shouldn’t have meant anything. But now, knowing that you’d seen it, knowing that it might hurt you—it stings. And it stings more than she’s willing to admit.

Ekko watches her for a moment and sighs. He knows Vi well enough to see that flicker of something in her eyes, that far-off look, the hesitation that’s always there when she’s thinking about you.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he mutters, “But you do need to talk to her.”

Vi nods slowly, her gaze moving toward the door again.

“Yeah,” she says quietly, almost as if to herself. “I know. I just… I don’t know what to say. It’s been so long, Ekko.”

Ekko exhales sharply, leaning back in his chair. “She looked for you, you know. She hasn’t stopped. And she’s been alone for a long time too, Vi. She deserves to hear it.”

Vi doesn’t respond. The words hit her harder than she’s willing to admit. She knows Ekko’s right, but the fear of rejection still clings to her like a shadow. She’s afraid of what will happen if she faces you, afraid of seeing that disappointment in your eyes, hearing the anger in your voice. Afraid that even if she tries, it won’t be enough.

She takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settling in her chest.

“I’ll go find her.”

The climb to the top of the tree feels longer than it should, but Vi knows she’s stalling. Her hands grip the wooden edges tighter than they need to as she hauls herself up, each rung feeling like a step closer to a moment she’s not sure she’s ready for. Ekko’s words still echo in her head—She’s probably already up there, and needs the space, but… she deserves to hear from you.

And now, standing at the edge of the makeshift platform high above the Firelights’ hideout, Vi spots you. You’re sitting near the edge, your legs dangling over, one hand resting loosely on the ground for balance. The jukebox below hums softly, sending the faint notes of a melancholy tune drifting up through the cool night air. The lights of the community twinkle far beneath you, and the laughter and chatter of the people below seem like they belong to another world entirely.

Vi freezes for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. You haven’t noticed her yet, and she’s glad for it because it gives her time to take you in.

It’s been years since she’s seen you like this—quiet, lost in your own world. There’s something familiar in the way you tilt your head as you gaze out at the lights below, something achingly reminiscent of the person she remembers from all those years ago. She can’t help but wonder if you’re still the same in other ways, too. If you still laugh at dumb jokes, or hum to yourself when you’re deep in thought. If you still carry that kindness in your heart, despite everything the world’s thrown at you.

But there’s also something different, something that makes her chest ache. You look older. Wiser, maybe. More beautiful than she remembers, though she feels like that’s impossible, because she’s always thought you were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

God, you’re beautiful. The thought hits her so suddenly that it makes her chest ache. It’s not just the way you look, though that alone would be enough to leave her speechless. It’s everything about you—the way you seem so untouchable and yet so heartbreakingly human all at once. She feels like a fool for standing here and staring, but for the life of her, she can’t seem to look away.

And then there’s the way the moonlight catches on your face, illuminating the faint shimmer of unshed tears in your eyes. Vi doesn’t even need to see your expression to know what you’re feeling.

For a long moment, she just stands there, unsure of what to do or say. She wants to run to you, to pull you into her arms and tell you she’s sorry, that she’s here, that she’s not going anywhere this time. But she knows it’s not that simple. It’s never that simple.

Finally, she takes a hesitant step forward, her boots making a soft thud against the wooden planks. You stiffen slightly, your head turning just enough to catch her in your peripheral vision. You don’t say anything, but the way your shoulders tense tells her you’ve already guessed it’s her.

Vi hesitates again, her heart pounding in her chest as she moves to sit beside you. She doesn’t get too close, leaving enough space between you that you won’t feel trapped, but close enough that she can see the way your fingers grip the edge of the platform like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

For a few seconds, the silence between you is unbearable. Vi glances at you from the corner of her eye, her mouth opening as if to speak, but the words don’t come. She’s never been good at this—talking about feelings, finding the right thing to say.

But as she watches you, she knows she has to try.

“Nice spot you’ve got here,” she says, her voice softer than she intended. “It’s quiet… Beats the chaos down there.”

It’s not much, and she knows it. She winces at how lame she sounds, but she’s not sure she trusts herself to say anything more. She’s afraid if she does, it’ll all come tumbling out—the guilt, the regret, the years of wondering what could’ve been if she hadn’t been taken, if she’d fought harder, if she’d found a way back sooner.

You don’t respond right away, and she can’t tell if it’s because you’re ignoring her or because you just don’t know what to say either. She glances at you again, her eyes lingering on the curve of your jaw, the way your lashes cast faint shadows against your cheeks.

You’re so close, but it feels like there’s an entire world between you.

When you finally do speak, your voice is so soft, almost drowned out by the music drifting up from below. “It’s always been my place to think. To get away… I have Ekko to thank for it.”

Your words are simple, but they carry so much weight, and Vi feels the knot in her chest tighten. She wonders what you’ve been thinking about up here all this time. If you’ve been thinking about her. If you’ve been wondering where she’s been, what she’s been doing, why she never came back.

“I can see why,” Vi says, trying to keep her tone light even though her heart is pounding. “It’s got a hell of a view.”

She means the lights, of course, the way they twinkle below like stars scattered across the ground. But as she says it, she realizes she’s not looking at the lights at all. She’s looking at you.

You finally turn to look at her, and the look in your eyes nearly breaks her. There’s so much there—pain, anger, sadness—but there’s something else, too. Something softer. Something she doesn’t think she deserves but hopes for anyway.

“I didn’t think you’d come up here,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Vi looks at you, her throat tight, and she wishes she had the courage to tell you the truth. That she’s here because she couldn’t stay away. That she misses you.

Instead, she just nods, her voice a little rough when she finally speaks. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to.”

You look away again, your gaze returning to the lights below, and Vi knows she should say more, but she’s afraid. Afraid of making things worse. Afraid of losing whatever small chance she might have left to fix things.

She looks at you softly, “How have you been?”

You don’t answer right away.

The silence lingers. Vi shifts slightly, her body aching to close the distance, to somehow make things right, but she doesn’t move.

Then, it’s you who breaks the quiet after a short while, your voice soft and tentative, almost as if speaking too loudly might shatter the everything around you.

“It’s hard to think about you in prison,” you say, the words stumbling out of you before you can stop them.

Vi stiffens at the mention of it. Her chest tightens, as though she’s been struck, but she doesn’t look at you, doesn’t dare.

“I know it must’ve been hard,” you continue, your gaze still locked on the flickering lights below. “Being in there… for so long. I can’t even imagine how it felt. It must’ve been… suffocating.”

Vi can hear the way you say it, that compassion in your voice that makes her want to crumble. You’ve always been so gentle, even when the world around you was anything but.

The memories are sharp, jagged shards of regret that pierce her chest whenever she lets herself think about it. The days in that cold, lonely cell feel like a lifetime ago, but the scars—physical and emotional—are still fresh. The world had felt like a cruel, unyielding force back then. Every day in prison, every blow to her body, every quiet, restless night, had worn away the person she used to be. She couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be carefree or loved.

“I was so… lost,” Vi mutters quietly, her voice rough from the weight of years. “I spent so long… thinking about all of you, of Powder… of the mistakes I made. If i had just… If I hadn’t stepped away for one moment, maybe I would’ve still been here… Here with Powder…. Here with you.”

You glance at her then, just a flicker of movement, your eyes soft with something like pity—but more than that, something else that Vi doesn’t have the courage to name. She knows you see her now, not the image of the girl who left, but the one who came back. The one who is trying—trying, at least—not to destroy everything around her with the weight of her mistakes.

Vi’s voice breaks the silence again, this time with something raw in it, something almost painful. She shifts slightly, her hand twitching by her side, wanting to reach out but holding herself back.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was in there,” she says quietly, her eyes searching your face for any sign of recognition. “The thought of you… It helped get through most of my nights. I tried to dream of you... tried to imagine what you were doing, where you were… how you’ve grown... how much prettier you probably got. I kept telling myself, ‘Maybe when I get out, maybe when I find a way out, I’ll find you again… and take you out on a real date.’”

She stops, her gaze falling to the ground between you both as if ashamed to even say it aloud, as if admitting the depth of her thoughts all these years will somehow make them real. But it’s there, the longing she’s buried in the back of her mind, too painful to confront but too strong to ignore.

Vi continues, quieter now, almost a whisper. “I wondered if you thought of me, if you looked for me. If you still cared… if I even mattered to you anymore.”

You stay silent as she speaks, your chest tight with something you can’t explain. The words sting in a way you’re not prepared for, like a wound reopened, and yet there’s something strangely soothing about them, too. The fact that Vi—after everything, after all this time—had thought of you… It almost doesn’t seem real.

But you say nothing, your gaze fixed ahead, unable to meet her eyes. You wonder if it’s better this way. If silence is all you have left to offer her now. Maybe it’s easier to listen than to speak, to keep everything bottled up inside where it won’t spill over and make a mess of things.

Vi takes a deep breath, her eyes shifting between the two of you, silently asking for something, anything that might make her feel less alone in this moment. But you don’t give her the answer she’s hoping for.

For a long while, neither of you speaks. The wind brushes past you, making the leaves rustle in the trees around the hideout. Below is quiet, almost peaceful, and the sound of distant voices and music fades into the background.

Vi watches you carefully, her eyes searching for something in yours, but she doesn’t push. She knows better than that. She knows that the years have changed you, just as much as they’ve changed her. She knows she can’t expect you to just forget everything, to instantly trust her again. But she hopes, more than anything, that there’s still something left between you both, something that could grow again.

“I saw you with her,” you say. “Ekko said her name is Caitlyn.”

Vi’s eyes widen at the mention of Caitlyn, her heart stopping for just a moment. The words seem to hang in the air between you both, heavy and charged. She opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out at first, as if the truth of its too much to swallow.

You feel her hesitation, the way she tenses, and it hits you in a way you weren’t prepared for. It feels like a sharp, cold pang in your chest. There’s a rawness in your voice that you didn’t even realize was there.

The way you say it feels like it cuts through the silence between you both. Vi looks at you then, eyes wide, searching, but she doesn’t speak. She knows she owes you an answer, but what answer could she give you? How could she explain everything that’s happened in the time between your separation and now?

After what feels like an eternity, Vi swallows hard, her throat tight. She looks away, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

“It’s not what you think,” she says softly, almost too quietly. “I… I didn’t want it. She was just… trying to comfort me.”

Vi’s mind drifts back to Caitlyn, and she can’t help but sigh. She thinks Caitlyn’s a good person—for someone from topside. There’s a softness to her, a kindness that reminds Vi of the people she used to know back when things were simpler, when she wasn’t caught between the rubble of the Lanes and the ghosts of her past. But despite Caitlyn’s goodness, Vi knows one thing, something deep in her heart that she can’t escape: no one could ever be you.

No one could replace you. The girl she grew up with, the girl she used to dream about, the girl who haunted her thoughts long after she had fallen asleep. Vi’s chest tightens at the thought. The kiss with Caitlyn, the one you saw—it’s nothing more than a hollow moment, something that never should’ve happened. She wanted it to be you.

Vi shudders slightly. The kiss, the way Caitlyn’s lips felt against hers, it was nothing like the memories of you. Nothing like the way your hand used to fit in hers, how your laugh could fill a room with warmth, how you made her feel like she was worth something. Caitlyn could never make her feel the same way you made me feel, could never replace the way you made her feel alive, like everything in her life had a purpose.

“I couldn’t…” Vi murmurs to herself quietly. “I couldn’t feel that for anyone except you.”

Her hand slowly reaches out, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as they brush against yours. Her touch is gentle, careful, despite the roughness of her calloused palms, worn from years of fighting, of surviving. She holds your hand like she’s afraid you’ll slip away, like if she lets go, you’ll disappear, and she’ll be left with nothing but the echoes of a time she can never get back.

Your eyes instinctively shift to your hands, the same hands you once held as children. You remember how easy it was, how natural it felt when you were younger, sitting side by side in the dirt or on the roof of the Last Drop, fingers intertwined like nothing could ever pull you apart. Back then, it felt like the world was small, and nothing could hurt you as long as you were together.

But now—now, everything has changed.

Her fingers curl around yours, and the warmth of her touch sends a wave of memories flooding back—soft laughter, secret glances, the way her eyes would linger on you when she thought you weren’t looking. You blink, trying to keep the rush of emotions in check, but it’s hard when every inch of you feels like it’s trembling.

Vi’s eyes flicker to the ground below for a moment, her cheeks suddenly flushed, the soft red hue creeping up to her ears. It was that same familiar blush that’d show during the times she’d gift you a tiny present from those adventurous jobs she was in. She’s so close now, you can hear her breath hitch slightly as if she’s gathering the courage to speak words that she’s kept locked away for far too long.

“I’ve always loved you, you know,” she said finally. “I never got the chance to tell you…”

The words tumble from her mouth, quiet and unsteady, but every one of them feels like it’s been etched into her soul for years. She looks up at you, the faint redness still coloring her face as she holds your hand.

“I’d really like to make for the time I lost with you.”

The noise from the jukebox below, faint music playing through the speakers, the distant chatter of the Firelights—it all fades away, drowned out by the thundering silence between you both. You stare at her, your heart racing, a million thoughts running through your mind, but none of them can fully process the weight of what she’s just said. You feel the tears burn at the back of your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You just stare at her—really look at her—like you haven’t in years.

Vi’s ears are bright red now, her gaze flicking away nervously. She’s never been good with things like this, always hiding behind her strength, her toughness.

And now, it’s all laid out in front of you.

She’s always loved you.

You swallow hard, your hand squeezing hers as you finally manage to find your voice, even though it feels as if it’s been taken from you for so long. You’re not sure if you want to speak, if you’re ready to speak, but it doesn’t matter.

A single tear slips down your cheek, catching in the moonlight that spills across the roof. You huff, your breath shaky, and quickly turn your head, trying to wipe it away before Vi can see.

But you’re not quick enough.

Vi’s blue eyes are already on you, her gaze soft, understanding, and something deeper, something tender that makes your heart ache even more. She doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you quietly, her thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as she holds your hand tighter.

The silence stretches between the two of you, but it doesn’t feel heavy. It feels like the beginning of something, something you both need but are too afraid to admit.

“You’re such an idiot,” you murmur.

You shake your head, still unable to fully meet her gaze, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. The sting of the tear on your cheek fades as you try to swallow down the lump in your throat, but it’s useless.

Vi’s lips twitch, just a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’s always known how to make you smile, even when everything else around you seemed to be falling apart. Now, it’s the same thing. She’s still that person who knows how to make your heart feel lighter, even in times like this.

“I know.”

Her voice is soft, almost teasing, but there’s no mockery in it, only the acceptance of your words—because she’s heard them before. She’s known, deep down, that you always thought she was an idiot, that she was reckless, that she made mistakes.

But none of that mattered.

She’s always loved you. And you’ve always known it, even if you didn’t want to admit it at first.

She scoots closer to you, the space between you shrinking as she leans in, her body warm against yours. You can feel the weight of her presence beside you, the soft strength that always made you feel safe. Her hand tightens around yours, pulling it into her lap, and you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as if you can’t bear to look at her yet.

But her touch reminds you of who you were before everything fell apart, before the years, the distance, and the pain.

“I know,” she repeats softly, her smile growing. She brings your hand up to her lips, softly pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, the red still staining her ears as she nudges you with her shoulder.

“But I’m your idiot.”

And you want to laugh, want to smile and tease her like you used to, but instead, you just sit there. Just breathe.

Vi is here. She’s real. And she’s never stopped loving you.

And maybe—just maybe—you’re ready to love her back the way she’s always wanted you to.

ty for reading! | masterlist

#b’s writings #vi <3 #vi x reader #vi arcane #arcane #arcane x reader #league of legends #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

sincerelyneo · 9 months ago

Text

no control | l.jn

“i can't contain this anymore, i'm all yours i've got no control”

💿now playing: no control by one direction

❯ summary: The guy sitting at the bar next to you seems pretty smitten - and Jeno hates it. He wants to be the one making you blush…or more accurately, scream his name.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, friends with benefits

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), jealousy, arguing, wall sex, swearing, back scratching/marking?, possessiveness, public sex, reader uses she/her pronouns, pet names, slight begging, a bit angsty, porn with feelings, literally just jeno being petty and jealous.

Jeno hates to admit it, but Mark was right. Casual, no-strings-attached sex does in fact suck. And God does he know it. It’s hard to forget when his friends keep bringing you up.

“Who’s she talking to?” Renjun asks.

Jisung replies with a simple shrug before Chenle chimes in with a quick, “I don’t know, haven’t seen him before.”

Him. Jeno feels that pronoun hit harder than expected, but he forces himself to keep cool. He doesn’t turn around to see who’s got your attention, even though every fiber of his being screams and begs for him to look.

His spying friends keep giggling amongst themselves as they sit on the stools at the bar. But it wasn’t until Renjun throws back the last of his whiskey and says: “He looks pretty into her.” That Jeno’s gaze is forced to find you.

Jeno’s too proud to admit it but he finds you instantly, you’re like a magnet, a force that he’s drawn to. And truthfully, he considers it a talent that he can seek you out of a crowd in seconds.

There you are, with some guy. Some guy he didn’t know. Some guy that, from what he could see from the side of his head, was probably good-looking. The good-looking ones always liked to try and talk to you.

Not that it matters, Jeno reminds himself, dragging his eyes away from you for his own sake. You hadn’t come to this party with him; he never even asked you. He agreed to keep this casual. You could spend your time with whoever you damn well pleased.

Even if that wasn’t him. And even if that’s a bitter pill for him to swallow.

“Leave him alone guys,” Jisung finally speaks up. “They’re probably just talking. Besides aren’t you staying over at Y/N’s tonight anyway Jen?” He asked.

Jeno takes his eyes off you for a second to look at his friends, he’s thankful for the reminder that he was supposed to be coming over to your place tonight. But now his mind is racing. Maybe you would change your mind, ditching him to hang out with that good-looking man instead.

You’re not like that, he tells himself. While you hadn’t attended the party with him, you had promised to spend the night with him, and you weren’t one to break promises. Besides, you didn’t bring strangers you just met home, either. He had nothing to worry about.

Except…what if he did?

When he dared to glance over to the last spot he had seen you across the lavish bar, he wasn’t expecting to still find you there. Surely, you would’ve found an opening to excuse yourself and re-join the friends you’d arrived with, but there you were. Still talking to that asshole. Smiling at him. Enjoying yourself.

Maybe it was just the whiskey talking, but Jeno felt like he was being replaced as if he was across the world and not merely across the room. Because it had been well over half an hour since he had first seen them together. And who knew how long you two had been talking before he or his friends even noticed?

Jeno doesn’t like this feeling. So he orders another drink.

He tries to ignore you – tries to focus on his friends but they keep mentioning it. Mentioning you. Which makes it so damn difficult to stop his eyes from sliding over, and noticing every little detail about you.

The short dress that had ridden up from where you’d sat down and crossed your legs, showing off more than enough of your toned thighs. The deep black of it suited you, and not just because it was Jeno’s favourite colour, but because it complemented the tumble of hair falling over your shoulder. You looked like a goddess, untouchable. Especially when you smile. God, he loves when you smile.

Just not when he’s not the one doing it. He should be the only one to make you laugh, to make you feel more relaxed at a party. Because he knows you, all the little things and your quirks.

But not once did you glance his way; and he’s fully aware of that because Jeno has definitely been staring. You’re ignoring him, and he hates it. So fucking much.

Maybe the alchohol was catching up to him, finally settling into his bloodstream and mixing dangerously with his jealous streak because he’s suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that he has to do something.

Impulsively, Jeno abandons the conversation he had already half checked out of with his friends, and doesn’t waste a second marching over to you and the man. Ideally, Jeno wanted you to be thrilled to have him sweep you away, but when he arrived at the booth you and him had been sitting at, Jeno sees your eyes flash with an undeniable ‘what the fuck are you doing over here?’

“Nice to see you, Y/N,” Jeno greets you charmingly, sliding right into the booth on your side without an invitation, blatantly interrupting.

“Hi, Jeno,” you reply, keeping your tone polite despite not moving to give him more room.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” It hasn’t. “I thought I’d get you a drink and we could catch up?”

Jeno’s attempt to get you away is feeble, but it’s not exactly like he had enough time to devise a good plan. He was being impulsive, jealous, reckless – acting on instinct and he instinct was telling him that he need you, by his side.

“Maybe later, yeah Jen?”.

“Why? You having too much fun already?” he asks, which was rather a loaded question, considering you had company sitting right across from you.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” you emphasise a little more than necessary, glancing at the brunette across the table and playfully rolling your eyes. It had the man smiling in understanding, which was quick to piss Jeno off.

“Really?” he said flatly. “You don’t look it.”

“Maybe you don’t know what I look like when I’m having fun.”

“I think I know better than most.”

That’s when Jeno squeezes your knee, and you want to disagree, but you couldn’t. Because Jeno knew, alright. He knew pretty damn well.

The guy opposite you shifts in his seat, probably aware that he had suddenly become a third wheel, thanks to the flirty tone in Jeno’s voice. Jeno gets a sick sense of enjoyment watching the man get uncomfortable – all the confirmation that whatever little plan he had going on was working. It made him only want to do it more.

So Jeno oh so casually reaches to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear. You try not to react, but your head tilts slightly towards him, and your features soften.

“You look beautiful,” Jeno compliments, fingers trailing down your hair, brushing over your shoulder before they settled back on your knee. “Black suits you.”

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Are you two friends?” The man asks, reminding you both of his presence.

“Sort of,” you began to say, just as Jeno declares, “Very close friends.”

With your cheeks now flushing, you cut him a look that he largely ignores, before feeling the need to explain yourself to the friendly guy you had just met. “We catch up sometimes. Occasionally.”

“We’ve known each other for ages.” Jeno emphasises because he liked that fact. Liked knowing he was here first, having that leverage and advantage over any guy you’d ever meet.

“I should leave you to it then, let you two catch up,” the man says through a tight lipped smile as he began to slide out of the booth. He knew exactly what Jeno was trying to do. “Nice meeting you, Y/N. See you around sometime.”

“I hope so!” You reply trying to sound enthusiastic. You didn’t want to give Jeno the satisfaction he was clearly hoping for.

Once the man turned his back on you, you grab your glass and take an extra generous gulp of your drink.

Before Jeno had the chance to open his mouth and say something else that was only going to irritate you, you lean into him.

“What the fuck was that?” you hiss. “Out. Get out. Let me out.”

Shuffling along as he was told, Jeno watches dumbly as you hastily slip out of the booth after the stranger, tugging the hem of your dress down with one hand and clutching your nearly empty glass in the other.

Jeno blinks for a second as you try to parade away from him. Then it registers in his mind and he’s chasing behind you and out of the bar. That’s when he tugs on your arm to stop you in your tracks.

“Y/N. Stop, please.”

Much to Jeno’s surprise, you do as he says, turning around and holding up a commanding finger. It almost seemed like a joke, but there was no humour in your tone when you asked, “What were you thinking?”

Jeno tilted his head to the side, tonguing the side of his cheek.

“We weren’t at that party together! You knew that,” you continue your rant.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak to you in public,” Jeno replies naïvely with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.

“You know that’s not what we do. We don’t hang out at social events, Jeno. We agreed on casual. I don’t want a relationship.”

Casual. Yeah, you seemed to really not want a relationship when you were chatting up that guy for ages. The thought makes Jeno scoff, his gaze dropping to his feet.

You cross your arms over your chest, exhaling, “What?”

“That guy,” he simply says, his eyes flashing with a slight fury when he looks back up at you. “You were with that guy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh my god, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Who was he?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter when you refuse to even speak to me in public, but spend your whole night with him.”

Jeno’s smile is long gone, and almost, almost, you wanted to forget this whole thing and bring it back. You hated when Jeno was mad at you, not that he was very often, but he was being irrational right now.

“I just met him, it was all friendly” you explain. “I can’t believe you’re jealous!”

“I’m not jealous!”

Jeno knew he was, but there was not a chance of him admitting that seeing you with any other man drove him absolutely insane. Every single damn time. Still, you know better.

“You obviously are! Jeno, you know how I feel about you–”

“Do I? You didn’t seem to be into me tonight.”

“Because you came out of nowhere and acted like I was all yours!”

“You are mine!”

That was the wrong thing to say. Jeno knew it as soon as it came out his mouth, saw it in the way your expression tightened slightly. Even so, he wouldn’t take back what he thought was true.

“We haven’t defined anything–” you fumble, “Infact, I think we did the opposite—”

“How would you like it if I’d been flirting with another girl all night?” He cuts in.

“It wouldn’t matter,” you lie. “You can do what you want.

Jeno takes a few steps towards you, and it makes you unconsciously hold your breath. He’s so tall and intimidating and goddam sexy—wait you’re mad at him right now!

“What I really want, Y/N, is to be with you,” he spells it out frustratingly slowly. “Seeing you all night long in that short dress that barely covers your ass and knowing I can’t touch you, claim you, fucking kills me.”

Your eyes betray you, because despite every brain wave in your mind telling you to yell at him for that slightly misogynistic statement—your eyes still soften.

“Well, you should’ve just said that,” you try to explain instead of lecturing him. “If you’ve been feeling like that you should’ve talked to me instead of acting like a caveman.”

“You don’t listen.”

“I’m listening now.”

Jeno blinks at you, his jaw loosening as his eyes watch your gaze drift down to his lips. The action is loud enough for him to not waste another second before his hands move to your waist, pulling you in to the kiss he had been dying to give you all night.

It’s harder than he would’ve given you earlier, more possessive – oh, definitely possessive when he forces your back against the brick wall at the side of the bar and your arms have no choice but to hastily wrap around his neck. You stumble a little, but he keeps a firm grip on you.

If you wanted him to tell you how he felt, well, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.

He tells you in the desperate way that he kisses you, lips parting and unwilling to leave yours. He tells you by the way he presses his body flush against yours, pinning you to the brick so you can’t slip away from him, not again. He tells you in the low moan that escapes him when your hand tangles up in his hair and your own lips work just as eager.

When he breaks away for a moment, he takes his time to just look at you. So pretty, so desperate, and so undoubtedly all his.

And when you gaze back at him through long lashes and eyes radiating with lust, he has to groan because he’s the one making you like that. He’s the one getting you to bite down on those pretty lips, lips that were made for him, belong to him.

But you’re feeling too desperate and he’s taking too long. So within a mere few seconds, you’re reaching for him again. It has him thinking maybe you’re trying to tell him the same thing. But there was no need to do that. Jeno had made it abundantly clear that he was yours.

There was still a lingering frustration fuelling the two of you – mostly from you; it was jealousy for Jeno. He is jealous that someone else – another man – had gotten to spend the night at the party with you. He needed you to know that he hated to see you with him, and that this – this was never going to be better with anyone else.

No matter how hard a man would try, they could never know you the way that he did. They could never make you feel the way he did.

Ridiculously, you want to apologise despite him reading the situation all wrong. You hadn’t been flirting with anyone else, and you thought it didn’t matter who you chose to simply talk to. You never knew he’d feel this threatened. Never suspected it would upset him this much.

You proposed the idea of keeping things casual to not get hurt. Jeno was unbelievably attractive and could have his pick of any woman. You thought keeping him at arm's length would protect you—figures it’s only hurting him.

Regardless, no matter the context there was no denying that he was being a jealous ass tonight and the two of you had argued. An argument that you were both getting very turned on by and had you conflicted between getting down on your knees for him or letting him fuck you against the wall, outside and all.

You always found great thrill in surprising him: breaking from the feverish kisses, you reach up under your dress and yank down your underwear. The delicate fabric falls around your ankles, and you kick them off to the side, inviting him to what he so clearly wanted.

I’m yours right here, right now, your eyes tell him.

And you really thought you had won at the whole surprising thing, until he hooks your legs around his waist and presses his hips harder against you. You never pegged yourself or Jeno for being an exhibitionist but something about him taking you against the wall of the very same bar he thought a man was flirting with you at, awakens something feral inside him.

All of a sudden the wall seemed like the perfect spot for make up sex. Honestly, Jeno just wanted any sex. As long as it was with you.

He exhales heavily when he starts to ease his pants down and you fumble to undo his shirt buttons. But you get far too distracted by his lips beginning to trail down your throat. He reaches for your thigh, smoothing up your soft skin, as he hitches up your dress around your hips.

You’re so desperate for him you can’t help but whimper. And just when you think ‘Yes, finally,’ a cocky grin spreads across his face as his finger slips effortlessly (and too goddamn slowly) over your centre. His teasing is somewhat annoying, but it’s so hard to be pissed at him when he’s touching you like that. Hell, it’s hard to be mad at him in general—you’re weak to him and that’s exactly why you’re pushed up against a wall.

Jeno picks up his pace as soon as he begins stroking you with another finger. You squirm against the wall and he watches that hungry expression grow as he rubs you rhythmically, fingers sliding up and down, up and down, so easily from how wet you are. Pride swells in his chest because he did that.

Every moan that leaves your lips is his own little reward, one that he is dying to receive more, and more, and more of. Forever.

Jeno knows you’re close. It would’ve been easy to get you off right there, and he would’ve, had he not abruptly pulled away from you. You curse under your breath at the loss of contact.

“Jeno!”

He smirks, loving the way you squirm as he nudges your legs further apart. His breath is hot against your skin as he murmurs, “Got to tell me what you want, baby.”

You groan frustratingly, since apparently he wasn’t going to give it to you unless you said something. “I want you, now. Just need you inside me.”

He smirks, the grip he had on your thighs tightening and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his shirt. He shifts his hips, pushing the crown of his cock against your entrance — slowly, sensually, tormentingly.

You lean into him, nails digging into the fabric on his back as he presses his forehead against your neck, soft hisses escaping him as he feels you — wet and tight.

“This pussy was fucking made for me,” he growls, cock buried to the hilt. He could stay there forever, selfishly he wants to, but he can hear your whimpers and the need to please you becomes priority.

He bottoms out and then his hips are snapping forward hard, fast, possessive. Whatever words you wanted to say dissolves into a senseless moan. His thrusts become more erratic and needy and the pace has you clenching down around him. Fuck.

Jeno stills. His breath ghosts over your collarbones and his fingers dig even further into your hips. You know that look, he’s struggling to keep himself under control, which, given the circumstances is the last fucking thing you want.

“Not gonna last long if you keep doing that baby.”

He’s trying to reason with you, but before you really have time to think about what you’re doing you’re clawing at his back, tightening your legs around and digging the heels of your shoes into his back hard enough that he growls, low and frightening in a way that makes your spine tingle.

“Fuck,” he grits out thrusting into you hard. The sound of skin hitting skin is loud and vulgar in the middle of the street, but you don’t care and can’t care because fuck, all you can think about is how it feels as he rocks into you, again and again and again.

“Jeno,” you gasp out, grip digging into his shoulders as he fucks you, ruthless and unforgiving.

He’s relishing in it, you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s trying to fucking burn the sight into his brain forever, the sounds you’re making and the way you shiver in his arms and the sheer force of it all. He groans and when he kisses you again it’s nearly violent, a clash of lips and tongues and teeth.

“All mine,” he groans against your mouth. He hisses as you bite at his bottom lip, retaliating with a growl and driving his hips into yours with a newfound ruthlessness. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“Oh—fuck please,” you gasp out, breaths coming out in little huffs in time with the movement of his body.

“Not what I asked,” he lowers his voice, serious. His pace slows down and it has you squirming and crying out.

“Fuck yes—yours Jeno. Always been yours. Just please don’t stop—”

Jeno groans and kisses your neck. He picks up his pace again. The same low tone in his voice as he promises, “I’m all yours too.”

You swear those three simple words were the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Your walls flutter around him and you don’t miss the prideful grin on his face as his hand moves down from your hip and his thumb presses against your clit.

His fingers move hurriedly and the pleasure is suddenly blinding and white and fuck fuck—

“Jeno yes just like that I’m gonna—”

“Good fucking girl,” he chokes out, your orgasm shaking him to his core, making his thrusts half-desperate.

His rhythm falters and his own breath catches. He digs his fingers into your hip hard enough that it makes you hiss and then he falters and slows and gives one, two, three more thrusts before pinning you harder with a shaky, breathless sigh.

The two of you stay like that for a beat before he lowers you back to the ground, pulling down your dress. Then slowly, he brings his fingers to his lips and licks, tasting you with a roll of his eyes.

“I mean it, you know,” He quietly says. “I’m all yours.”

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a revering kiss, and you tell him the exact same thing back.

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader #kpop smut #nct hard hours #nct one shot #nct scenarios

2K notes · View notes

always-just-red · 10 months ago

Note

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

#🖋rach is actually writing #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

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l00kingatthem00n · 1 month ago

Note

Since two times is canonically creepy can you write him being creepy in a cute way towards reader

━━ EYES LIKE ANGELS.

WARNINGS: whatever is up with two time 🙄 /j none, if i've missed anything lmk.

There's always been an air of unease when it came to Two Time; even if you're their lover, you've felt as much as the other survivors have, too. Tonight, you're most aware of their abnormalities when you catch them staring at you. From your window.

TWO TIME HAS A STARING PROBLEM. It’s not exactly some sort of egregious secret of theirs that they’re deciding to take to their first, their second and their eventual last death. For goodness' sake though, they’re not even subtle about it or even try to be. Certainly, it’s uncomfortable to have a cultist so admittedly off-putting stare at you as if they’re thinking about making you their next sacrifice. After all, widened eyes, dilated pupils and an unwavering gaze don’t exactly entail a friendly interaction. Furthermore, a follower of Spawn, so devoted and so passionate, who’d been bestowed a dagger that too leisurely hangs around their hip doesn’t exactly ensure the most pleasant perceptions And so, of course, the others would find discomfort with their presence, especially with their eyes. When it comes to drawing Two Time’s gaze, you can sense the divide you and the others must have. To them, it’s looking anxiously into an abyss. To you, it’s looking into a blinding light; that of an angel with their burning gaze.

The survivors all expressed their concerns about your relationship with them. Some were reasonable, some a little less so. You’re not sure what to make of their worries. You suppose you can’t exactly judge them too critically for their distrust of Two Time. You would have to be beyond foolish not to see what is so evidently present about them. It doesn’t help that their complicated history with romance only heightens the unease. And you understand, somewhat, Two Time is reserved despite how much they seem to prattle. Though there’s nothing that exempts them from their strange relationship with that dagger, that glossed-over look in their eyes on certain days. Even then, you have your faith and trust in them, and thus your love is to be assured too. But, you recollect their regards for you; complaints, concerns, many of the sort.

The first was Elliot, ever-considerate and ever-caring for your well-being. It was in the morning or what you would consider the morning in this otherworld. And courtesy of the pre-established routine, the two of you were responsible for breakfast. You’d been chopping away vegetables with a dull knife. He’d been whisking some of the eggs he’d cracked. A faint clicking noise of the utensil against the plastic bowl accompanied by his inquisitive concerns and quiet concerns. “You know, it’s pretty sweet that you so quickly have a lot of faith in Two Time. It would take a lot for me, haha!” It surely wasn't the intention to come off so harsh. That aside though, the choice of words had you somewhat bewildered. Shouldn't Elliot already have much trust in someone who tries to watch over him?

Then, it was the gambler, Chance, who whispered in your ear one evening A smooth, confident drawl to disguise their evident worries and concerns for your relationship with Two Time, concerns for whatever entailed in your relationship. “Hey, just let me know if they’re treating you badly, kid. I’ll have at ‘em, show ‘em who they’re messing with,” They’d reassure you, raising two balled fists before mimicking a punching movement. A charming sentiment, an unnecessary one too. You’re hopeful they wouldn’t do anything impulsive, and you’re also sure that Two Time would win against them even without their pristine blade. You’ve seen Chance manage to throw a swing or two, only to be met with complete failure.

As for the latest individual to offer their opinion, it was Builderman. That harsh, Southern drawl of his wasn’t exactly sugarcoating any feelings he had about your relationship with Two Time. Maybe, it’s a bit of that authority from being a de-facto leader of your group. Or he’s thoroughly dedicated to looking out for you, seeing as he’s way older and presumably wiser than you are. Regardless, he had gruffly told you so in a passing conversation. The two of you were sitting on the dock over the lake, briefly going over the blueprints of his inventions to see what could be improved– Should the Spectre not interfere that is. Then, he’d just said: ”Kid, I have to be honest, that Two Time feller ain't exactly looking like the sweetest partner. Are ‘ya sure this is what you want?” It was a colourful conversation after that, to say the least, with lots of comments you couldn’t discern as his accent only thickened from his complicated feelings for them.

But, is this truly the most trifling matter? It could be that your acceptance of Two Time’s strange character could come from something of the like within yourself. Their unsettling carrying of themselves isn’t too frightening, at least to you. And that gaze of theirs, never daring to stray from yours, hasn’t become too intrusive either. Well, not yet, anyway. Regardless, it isn't exactly the perfect opportunity to think about all of that now, especially when the cultist themselves should be coming by soon. So far, you’re all by your lonesome in the decrepit cabin. Your roommate, Dusekkar, had left a while ago to find Shedletsky for whatever purpose.

Your purse your lips together, pacing around the cabin as each step creaked the floorboards beneath you. It’d been a while since you’ve told Two Time to meet with you as scheduled, but there’s no sight of them. Last you saw of them was when they were assigned for a match, though they should have been here by now. You let out a long, exasperated sigh. With hasty steps, you move your way over to the windows of your cabin. Your head falls into the palms of your hands, massaging the sides to try and remedy your hurrying mind.

There’s no reason for you to worry, truly. Two Time is capable of handling themselves, especially when death has become but a minor inconvenience when undergoing some kind of immortality. And if it was something to do with the survivors, you’re sure they would’ve told you themselves, or you’d hear from one of the others about their whereabouts. Neither of those feel like they’re perfectly applying at the moment, and so you find yourself frantic. You go to rest your head against the windowsill, letting out a loud groan.

You tilt your head upwards. What you were expecting to see was the fabricated woodlands the Spectre had made, but what your gaze actually meets startles you. You jolt backwards, nearly stumbling onto the wooden floor as you see the display of the cultist you’re so worried about: Two Time. Their eyes are beyond wide, with shaky dilated pupils and a wide grin curled across their lips. Grasped between one hand, they use the bottom of their dagger to tap on the window, a loud rhythmic thudding accompanying their movements. The other hand is used to eagerly wave for your attention. Despite the glass muffling their speech, you can make out their pleased greeting with ease. As they speak, their breath briefly fogs the window.

“Hello, my love!”

You blink; Once, then twice. Then, your startled expression softens at them. With light-hearted exasperation, you shake your head as you undo the latches of the window. A heavy groan from the window hinges as it's pried all the way upward. You lean along the window frame, closing some distance between the two of you. Though Two Time continues to smile at you, the corners of their lips never reach their eyes and too many teeth bared towards you. Something creeps down to the base of your spine, something unsettled. Such a feeling doesn’t linger for long, at least, or doesn’t make itself present for long.

Mindlessly, your hands lazily hang from the window as you try to return their wide grin. Once more, to your surprise, Two Time’s hands hastily clasp around yours. It’s not reverently gentle, more like overly eager. Tight, firm, with almost no intentions to even consider letting you go. They squeeze and you have half the heart to tell Two Time that they’re squeezing way too hard. Yet, you disregard your worries and swallow them like the lump in your throat. It’s not that they intend to harm you in any way, even if you’re alarmingly beginning to feel a loss of sensation from your fingertips to your palms. In a meek attempt to match their vice-like hold, you squeeze their fingers back and lean forward as you press a kiss against their cheek. You receive a content hum from them.

“Did something happen? It took you longer than usual, honey.”

Two Time offers an upbeat hum, “Oh, Spawn may forgive me for my tardiness in seeing you. I was admiring you from afar from the window until you noticed.”

“Oh,” Your eyelids droop as you process their words, something akin to a lazy blink before tilting your head to the side. “Were you doing this for a while…?”

“Of course! It would not be right if I weren’t to adore you at your most candid. Spawn forbid!”

“Two Time, you…” You can feel the cogwheels spin in your head. “You spent the last…What? Ten minutes? Just looking at me through the cabin window?”

They enthusiastically nod. “As I have said, yes.”

You also nod along. Then, Two Time releases you from their hold all of a sudden. Your nerves adjust to the absent tension, awakening your nerves with an odd tingling feeling. But, you don’t worry too much about that for they practically drag themselves inside. The worst way possible too. You can only watch what unfolds. A painful witnessing. Of course, you offer a hand for assistance but you’re met with Two Time dismissively waving your hand away. Their dagger wedges between the gnarled logs of the cabin, used as leverage to slip themselves through the frame. Exasperated breaths and irritated grunts are the only sound that envelops what's happening between the two of you.

Eventually, Two Time crawls through and tumbles onto the floorboards with a loud thud. You’re about to sink to your knees to try and help them up. Yet, they’re hasty to prop themselves up from the floor. They immediately go to loom over you, or at least make themselves as imposing– you assume, unintentionally –possible. Then, without any warning, you feel their frigid hands grasp at your shoulders. At the very least, Two Time is gentle this time as they usher you towards your bed. With a heavy groan from the springs in the mattress, you’re guided to lay across plushness before they promptly cling to you. Their hands ensnare your waist, pressing themselves flush against you. While the warmth of their cheek is pleasant as they rest atop your chest, allowing you a momentary comfort, they tilt their chin and directly dig into your sternum. A sharp yelp follows from the blunt sensation, though Two Time doesn’t even flinch.

Their unblinking gaze is drawn to yours once more, along with that wide, toothy smile of theirs. They just stare at you, stare at you for so long that you’re compelled to return whatever it is that they’re observing about you. You can make the dark rings beneath them, the crust that hasn’t been rubbed. And before you can note anything else about your peculiar partner, the familiar alto of their voice hums to bring you from your thoughts.

“I must say I enjoy it when you look at me as I do you.”

You raise your brow, letting out a chuckle, “Really now?”

“Of course!” They chime. “If it were up to me, I’d ensure that you’d never look at anyone else! Ever.”

“You’d just be with me and only look at me, my love!”

It was a charming declaration of love. For a moment. For as genuine and as honeyed as their words can be, there’s an undertone of something else. Something else that allows shivers to creep down the base of your spine, something that allows an uncomfortable knot to tighten in your chest. Sure, it hasn’t been long since you’ve become partners and maybe you should be more considerate to them– This demeanour could be unintentional, for all you know.

Nevertheless, there’s no denying the dread that lingers from this exchange. And as you can only surrender yourself to Two Time’s whims, letting those piercing eyes like angels observe you, with no regard that you’re uncertainly returning their gaze. You softly sigh. You know what? You’ve finally come to something of a conclusion. Maybe you can see why they were worried in the first place.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi everyone!! hope you're all doing alright and taking care :) excuse my yapping down below, but if you'd like to read go on ahead

this request was actually pretty fun to write. but oh my god, characterizing two time was so hard, mainly because I'm not really into their lore as much as i am others. and also i think i struggled to captured a sort of "creepiness" so i'll be improving on that 🗣️🔥

considering that two time might be getting a lore re-work from what i remember??? i've just been unsure of how to write them. i do think for the most part, with the current tidbits of lore, they're very tragic?

they seemed really kind before the cult really started brainwashing them, and even now when they're of a fragile mental state and pretty creepy too. i think they're just a byproduct of all that Cult Stuff. either way, i hope it was enjoyable lol!!!

#sfw #forsaken #forsaken roblox #forsaken x reader #forsaken roblox x reader #two time forsaken x reader #two time x reader #roblox x reader

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sydwritess · 28 days ago

Text

You Want It, You Got It

Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Summary: You and charles are out on a coffee date before your self care day. When charles finds out another man bought you your drink. He instantly tries to prove himself as better.

Second Person POV

You and Charles were in a local coffee shop, having a quick little date before you went of on your self care day.

"I'm going to get a drink before we head out." You say, the both of you standing from your table.

"Okay." He says, reaching in his pocket, pulling out his card and handing it to you.

You smile and playfully roll your eyes, taking it as he walks outside.

"Hi, can I get a dragon fruit refresher, please?" You ask the cashier. She nods and starts getting the drink together.

An idea popped into your head, pranking Charles before you leave. The cashier hands you your drink, you pay and make your way outside to Charles.

"Hey." You say happily.

"Hey, happy you got your coffee?" He asked, grabbing your hand.

"Yeah! Some guy even offered to pay for it. Isn't that sweet?" You say, taking a sip of your drink.

"Wait... what?"

"Yeah, I told him I had a card but he said no pretty girl should pay for her own drink. That's like the sweetest thing ever." You say, pretending your melting just talking about it.

"Who is this man?" He asks, stopping in front of you, facing you.

"Oh I'd don't know."

"And you excepted it?"

"Yeah! He was so nice!"

"He offered to pay for your drink when you had my card."

"Yeah, I guess." You said, biting your tongue trying to laugh.

"Mon amour, you don't need some man to pay for your drink when you got me right here." He says gently, looking in your eyes.

"I will pay for everything you ask me to. Don't throw yourself at some man for a drink." He says. That's when you burst out laughing.

"What- what is so funny?"

"You. You're too sweet. It was just a prank baby." You say, putting a hand gently on his face.

"That's rude." He says, his frown cracking into a smile. "I'm still better though."

"I know you are." You say, gently kissing him.

"I am going make sure you know how much I love you." He says.

"Oh really?"

"Really. I will pay for everything you do today." He says.

"No you won't-"

"Yes, I will. Did you forget I'm an f1 driver? I make millions!" He says sarcastically, with a small laugh.

"Oh, right, of course." You saying, matching his energy.

"Right, so what are we doing today?"

"Charles, you're not spending your money on me."

"I never said anything about that. I want to see what your self care day involves bébé."

"Okay, fine. First, I'm getting my hair done." You say. He nods in approvement and and grabs your hand, walking along with you.

You both reach your hair salon in a quick time. It was a small singular studio. You open the door, Charles following in right behind you.

"Hey T." You say.

"Y/n! Good to see you." She says, walking up to you and hugging you.

"You can go sit over there, I'll get your color ready." She said. You nodded and sat in the chair.

"Your dying your hair?" Charles asked, pulling up a chair next to you.

"Yeah. I usually get it black." You say.

"How did I not know this?" He asks.

"Your to busy 'making million.'" You tease.

"Right. Of course." He says, smirking. Just then T comes over and starts working on my hair.

"So, what's been up? Haven't seen you in a while." She says, looking at you through the mirror.

"I've been really busy actually. Work and everything. Apparently I have a new boyfriend to, so that's nice." You say, you can see Charles looking at you out of the corner of your eye.

"Oo, girl you need to spill the tea now." She says.

"Well, my dear, just fantastic boyfriend, who is acting all innocent over there, thinks I have a new boyfriend. But it was a prank. So yeah." You trailed off.

"Oh yeah, I did that to my man one time... didn't go well." She mumbled at the end.

"See, and I'm sure whoever her boyfriend is was also, pretty upset." Charles said.

"Yes he was. But it was worth it." T said.

"So what's going on with him?" You ask.

"He broke up with me."

"What? Why?"

"I have no idea. He just ghosted me." She said sadly.

"Ew. What a weird thing to do."

"Right?"

"I swear." You say, taking a sip of your drink. "Men are so... just about themselves, it's unreal. It's like, I'm sorry you have a big glass-made ego?" You joke.

"Right! Like seriously." She says. Charles looked dumb-founded from his chair.

"Don't worry babe. Not about you." You say, slightly looking at him. He nods with a smile.

About and hour later, after letting the color settle, and washing it out, your back in the chair, going over your haircut.

"So, what are we doing with it?" T asks.

"Just cut the dead ends off." You say.

"Okay, and what about the style?"

"I was thinking like four small braids here. Like Dutch braids." You say, pointing to the top of your head. "And into a high ponytail."

"Cute, I love that." She says happily. She grabs her scissors and quickly cuts your hair, taking the dead ends off as needed.

Once she got done with that, she started parting and putting gel in your hair, and starting the braids. She quickly got done with them, put your hair up into a ponytail and did the last finishing touches.

"You all set." She said, walking over to the counter.

"Thanks. This looks great." You say, walking with her.

"That'll be 280.00 today." She said. I look over at Charles to see his eyes widened as he takes out his card.

"You sure you can handle it? That look gives it away." You tease.

"Of course I can." He said, handing his card to T.

"There, your all good. Have a great day." She smiled. You said your goodbye's and left the salon.

"Two-hundred and eighty dollars. I practically get my hair done for free!" He says, pointing out into the open.

"That's because your mom does it for you." You laugh out.

"Right, but still. You should get her to do it." He suggested.

"I love your mom, but no." You say.

"Fair. Where next?" he asked.

"I'm getting my nails done." You say.

"Okay." He said. You both walked through town, getting to the nail salon.

"Are these like the people we see in America?" He asked.

"Almost. Eric's nice. You'll like him" You say.

"Eric? Like... a guy?"

"Yes a guy. don't worry. He's married."

"Right, of course." He says, a small smile appearing on his lips.

"Don't be jealous. It's okay." You say, grabbing his hand.

"I never would be." He says.

You eventually got to the nail salon. Walking in to see Eric and his client in there, again a single person salon.

"Hi y/n. I'll be right with you." He says, checking out his last client. You nodded and went to his chair while he was at the register.

"Okay girl, what are we thinking today?" He asked, coming to sit down across from you.

"A long, square, black French tip with like a red line at the top, like at the start of the black." You say, he nods and get's to work. You see Charles looking at you from the couch by the window.

You lean closer to Eric as he takes off the old gel.

"Can you play a prank on my boyfriend?" You ask.

"Hmm, sure." He says.

"Wait, you want the hard gel right?"

"Yes."

"Okay, continue."

"Can you say some absurd price for each singular nail your about to do?" You whisper.

"Girl I got you." He says. He takes around five minutes to get the old gel off and dusts your nails off.

"Okay, so all new hard gel, plus the extension is going to be thirty dollars a nail. Is that okay?" Eric asks, extra loudly. Just then Charles comes up behind your seat.

"Can you repeat that?" He asks, sitting next to you.

"Thirty dollar a nail."

"Uh- I um... okay, yes, that's perfect." Charles says hesitantly. Scratching the back of his neck.

You couldn't help but laugh at him a little.

"No because that's a great price right?" Charles asks. By then, Eric couldn't help but laugh a little to.

"I don't know. Is it?" You repeat.

"Well, I'm not sure." Charles says.

"It's a joke. It's like... well I'm not sure. I just get it done and pay whatever." You say.

"Wonderful. We'll go with whatever you normally price then." Charles says.

"For this, around.... hm, I think 110."

"110! Okay- I suppose it's reasonable." He says.

"Would you like me to pay darling." You ask, looking over at Charles.

"No, no I got this." He says, putting his hands up.

"Whatever you say."

"You seem tense." eric said, looking at Charles.

"Right? You should give him a massage."

"I could, if you want." Eric says seriously.

"No-"

"And give him the happy ending to." You joke.

"What- what is that?" Charles asks.

"Oh you know... the happy ending." You say, he thinks about it and then clocks it.

"No! No I'm okay. I will stay right here." He says, a nervous smile on his face. You couldn't help but laugh again.

Eric started putting on the hard gel, until it was all shaped.

"Okay, put your hand under. Wait until you feel burning." He says. You do exactly that and take your hand back out.

"Burning?" Charles questions.

"Yeah, the UV like sucks out the chemicals from the gel." You say. He nods in surprise.

Eric continued working on your nails, shaping them, soaking them, the whole works.

He finally got done with the polish around and hour later, and you all stood up and went to the counter.

"110.00 today." He said, Charles handed him his card. He paid and we walked out back into town.

"It that all that includes in your self care day?" He asks, grabbing your hand.

"Yes."

"Thank God. I think I went bankrupt." He said, smiling.

"Hey, you offered. You and your millions." You say.

"Don't worry. I have enough money for next week." He says.

"Next week?"

"Yeah. When do you go back?" He asks.

"Every two weeks for my nails, and every month for my hair."

"Oh, right."

"Don't worry. I won't make you pay." You say, stopping with him.

"If I don't pay, then don't let any man buy you your drinks." He says.

"Don't worry. I won't." You say. Leaning into him, kissing him gently.

"Good, and if they try, show them this." He says, pulling his card out.

"Why's that?"

"My name's on it. So they'll know your mine." He says, kissing you again.

"Possessive huh?"

"Protective." He said, grabbing your hand and continued walking with you.

Hey loves! Hope you like this one! Comment to be added to the tag list!

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bluewxrld07 · 3 months ago

Text

Miss Possessive (Luke Hughes)

Warning(s): jealousy, light smut, swearing, little angst, spitting

Summary: Y/N isn't usually one to get protective over her boyfriend... but when one girl who acts like her friend pushes things a liiiittle over the edge, she shows why she shouldn't be one to mess with

BABY BLUES, UNDRESSING HIM. FUNNY HOW YOU THINK THAT I DON'T NOTICE IT

ACTING LIKE WE'RE FRIENDS, WE'RE THE OPPOSITE

"I'm back and I brought the good stuff!" Jack shouts over the loud music, holding a tray filled with everyone's drinks.

Luke lets go of Y/N's waist for a second, reaching over to grab both his and her drinks. She smiles warmly up at her boyfriend as he hands her the cool glass, the pair immediately turning their attention back to Nico's story he was telling about Monday's practice mayhem.

The girl tried to keep her attention on the story, peeking around every so often to check to see if her friends had arrived yet.

Her eyes lit up as she let out an excited and buzzed squeal, seeing the three girls rushing their way over to their group in the busy club crowd. "My girls!" she shouts out, leaving Luke's hold to go embrace them all.

"Finally, the party can start! I've only been looking forward to this all weekend," her friend, Maya, says as she snags the drink from Jack's hands as he is about to sip it. He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in defeat.

"Maya's here everyone!" he sarcastically announces, earning a smack to his chest. Y/N laughs while pulling away from hugging her other friend, Peyton. They all watch the pair bicker per usual, knowing they'd end up in his bed by the end of the night.

As she goes to embrace and greet Mary, she notices her staring over her shoulder with a certain look in her eyes.

Y/N's eyes follow her stare, turning behind her to see exactly where her eyes were met. Which were staring right at Luke, who at the time was sitting on the couch with his legs spread, drink in hand while the other arm lay across the top of the couch as he conversed with one of the boys.

Y/N squints her eyes in a knowing manner, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. She looks back at Mary with a smirk, clearing her throat to catch the girl's attention.

Mary's eye snap out of their daze, putting a fake smile on and squealing while pulling Y/N in for a hug. "I've missed you oh my gosh!" she says, Y/N just humming in response.

They pull apart quickly after, Mary squeezing past her to slyly take a seat next to Luke. Luke looks over at Mary, his face dropping when he notices it isn't his girl. He puts on a fake smile and greets Mary, immediately pulling his arm away that sat on the top of the couch and puts it in his lap.

Y/N rolls her eyes, downing the rest of her drink before looking over at Peyton who is talking with Ethan.

She goes up and wraps her arm around Peyton, smiling graciously when the girl looks over at her. "How about we go get some more drinks?"

I'LL BE NICE, UP UNTIL I'M NOT. I'M TELLING YOU , YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE 1 A.M. SIDE OF ME

WHEN I'M TWO DRINKS IN AND YOU JUST CAN'T LEAVE ME AND MY MAN ALONE

Y/N thanks the bartender as she grabs her third drink of the night, feeling more tipsy as the prior shots began to hit. She began to make her way back to her group, seeing as they're all dancing to the flow of the music booming through the club.

Peyton sees her coming over, holding her hand out to make Y/N spin around in a twirl while bopping to the song playing, taking a sip of her drink.

She sees her tall pretty boyfriend, heading his way. Once she is close to him, she wraps her free hand around his back while sipping and nodding along to the song. He looks down and finds her eyes, letting a light smile form on his lips before pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"You add it to my tab?" he asks over the loud music, his lips barely touching her ear, but enough to send chills down her spine. She nods, swaying her hips around.

Luke places her in front of him before continuing his conversation with Nico next to him, his hands roaming the sides of her body as he let her dance in front of him. She sang aloud with the girls, letting Maya dance her way over and take Y/N's hands to have her join her girls.

They danced together, sometimes dancing on one another or next to each other while singing the lyrics out loud. Y/N could feel the alcohol buzzing through her bloodstream, letting her hands run freely up and down her body, then along Maya's whom began dancing against Y/N's front.

She let her eyes close and her head fall back with a laugh as her friends began to grind against her, happily playing along. She ten snapped out of it when she feels a squeeze on her arm, seeing Peyton point towards where their group is standing.

Y/N's face falters, a knowing look spreading across her face as she watched Mary try to have Luke dance with her. She could see the disinterest in his face as she would hang on him and take his hand to act if he was trying to spin her around.

"She needs to learn her place," Peyton says over the music and Maya agreeing before they both try to make their way over, only to be pulled back from Y/N.

She just smirked at the girls. "You guys keep dancing with your boys, I'll be back." is all she says before leaving, and walking towards the group.

Luke must've felt her stare, because his eyes find hers and he looks more annoyed than scared. She could see the pleading in his eyes to help, and she just keeps her stare on him as she walks over.

Once Y/N makes it in front of him, Mary immediately looks at her with a fake smile. "Oh my gosh I was starting to worry where you went! Figured I'd keep him company for you!" she says so innocently, Y/N just rolls her eyes and looks up at Luke.

She immediately lets her hands trail up his own hands and to his forearms, slowly backing towards the dance floor as he slowly follows her.

His eyes never left hers, as if he was in some sort of trance. The only time it broke was when she turned away from him, only to lead him through the crowd and towards her friends that were getting close on the floor with their men.

She halts when she's where she wants to be, immediately taking his hands, one hand empty and one holding his almost empty drink, wrapping them around her front. He lets his head lower towards her neck, close to the soft spot behind her ear. Chills forming along her skin.

Y/N can feel the smirk that comes onto his face, letting his lips meet the soft spot, she slowly begins to sway against him. She lets her body roll back into his, following the music and the flow it gives, hearing sighs leave his lips as she moves.

Her hands leave his as they sat lowly on her hips as he was leading them to roll back against him, her hands trailing up her own body before they fly back behind her.

She lets them grip onto the back of his neck where his curls poked out from his backwards hat, earning a groan from her in the process.

"You are trouble." Luke chuckles.

The pair rolled against each other as if it was just them, her blood pumping through her ears. She felt herself weaken when he let one of his hands trail up from her hips, up her stomach, making sure to take his time caressing her breasts before it finally made its way to her neck. At first he let it sit there, but then he tightened his grip and pulled her straight back against him.

She lets out a breathless laugh, biting her lips to keep from a full out smile forming onto her lips. She is snapped out of her trance when she feels someone bump into them a few times, looking over to see Mary grinding up against someone herself, her eyes looking at Luke's the entire time.

But her eyes narrow as she realizes that Luke is so entranced by Y/N to notice her. Mary then sees Y/N's caught her, soon trying to act as if she wasn't just trying to make Luke to jealous.

Y/N just rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the said girl who is trying to hard for a man who is taken.

Look at the floor or ceiling, or anyone else you're feelin

Take home whoever walks in, just keep your eyes off him

The boys all went and sat down for a break, Y/N and her girls all going to get refills on their drinks.

Y/N was beyond annoyed.

She didn't know what else she had to do to get Mary off of Luke, or away from him.

"Girl how have you not put your hands on her yet? I would've when thought it was okay to try and steal Luke while y'all were dancing." Peyton says, thanking the Bartender.

"I don't fucking know," Y/N scoffs with an amused smirk. "She's insufferable. It's not like I don't trust him because I can tell he is just as annoyed. She just can't take no or take a hint."

"If she were all over Jack, I'd be dragging her out by her long ass fake lashes." Maya says, making the girls laugh as they all sipped on their drinks.

"You may just have to fuck him in front of her to get her to leave y'all be," Peyton shrugs, making Y/N almost spit her drink out.

"You're unbelievable!" Maya laughs loudly, playfully pushing Peyton.

Y/N shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head as she laughs, her face heating up from the comment made. "I can't stand her. She doesn't know how to keep her hands or eyes off of him."

Maya nods and points towards their group. "Especially now."

Y/N looks behind her and towards where Maya is pointing, her joking demeanor falling from her face.

Mary was slyly sitting so close to Luke that she was basically almost on his lap, her legs dangling over his thighs, seeing Luke shrug them off as her face leans against his shoulder.

"If you don't drag her out of here, I fucking will." Peyton says.

Y/N turns back around and downs her drink, asking the bartender for a lemon drop shot. "Girl I don't think another shot is the answer right now. She is basically trying to kiss up on your man right now." Maya says, her eyes staying behind them and staring at Mary and Luke.

"Trust me if there's anything that's going to get Luke going," she thanks the bartender for the shot, and hold it up. "It's this."

"What's a lemon drop shot gonna do?"

"You remember the first night we went out to a party together at the Michigan Hockey house?"

"The night where he basically fucked you on the beer pong table?"

"it's because of the one thing I did that got his jealous ass to catch a hint."

Maya raised a brow. "I'm so confused."

Peyton cut in. "She shotgunned a shot into his mouth while everyone watched."

Maya's eyes widened. "Oh he ate that shit up, I remember that clearly now that you say it."

Y/N nods. "Exactly. Just watch how Miss Possessive works." She takes the shot with her, walling back to their section, watching as Luke shrugs Mary off for the fiftieth time of the night.

Y/N's eyes caught Luke's, the complete relief he felt seeing her face making itself closer to him made him feel loads better.

He saw her holding a small glass in her hand, her eyes leaving his to look at Mary. The girl was watching as she threw a leg over his lap so she sat with them on both sides while facing him. His hands immediately coming to rub alongside her thighs.

"I've never been more happy to see you," he says as he blows out a breath. Her eyes still were looking at Mary, keeping the eye contact as she downs the shot and sets the glass behind her.

That's when Y/N's eyes find Luke's, he sees that she didn't swallow the shot and held it in her mouth. "You good baby?" he asks, his hands rubbing his thighs under her dress.

She says nothing, her hands coming up to lean his head back fully. She takes one of her thumbs and presses it against his bottom lip to have him his mouth, her own head leaning down and over his.

Y/N had one hand resting on the front of his neck, feeling his Adams apple bob, while her other hand sat against his jawline with her thumb pulling his bottom lip down to open his mouth fully.

Luke's eyes became lidded, his pants becoming tighter as he knew what was coming next. Y/N puckered her lips, spitting the shot slowly from her mouth and pour into his own mouth. Once it all emptied into his mouth, Luke watched her bite her bottom lip as she took her thumb and pushed his mouth closed slowly.

"Swallow baby" she says lowly, making his face heat up and listen to her orders. He watched as a drop fell down from her bottom lip, his pants feeling tighter than they have been.

Y/N snaps out of her gaze with Luke, her eyes snapping towards Mary whom looked embarrassed and avoided the pair.

"Damn where can I get me a Y/N?" Nico shouts playfully, earning a chuckle from Y/N.

"Very funny," she says, going to stand from his lap, but is stopped as Luke's hands place a harsher grip on her hips. Her eyes fall back towards the boy, who still has his head back against the couch top and his eyes closed.

"Don't move right now," he says, earning a smirk from Y/N.

"You alright honey?" she jokes, watching him huff out a breath.

Before she knows what's happening, he's sitting up, then stands with her still in his grip. his hands traveling to her ass as he adjusts her. She wraps her legs around his torso, the boys all looking at him with amusement on their faces.

"We're heading out a bit early," Luke says to the boys. "Not feeling too well."

"Yeah I'm sure that's what it is." Jack calls out. Luke squints his eyes at his brother, his eyes looking over at Mary who is looking at Y/N with so much envy and jealousy. So he thought why not add fuel to the fire?

Luke's eyes find his brother's once again. "Fine. I'm turned on, and I'm taking my girl home. Might fuck in the car too. Who knows." Luke says, making Y/N's toes curl at his words.

Jack's eyes widen as Luke smirks, walking away from the crowd yelling out a 'goodnight' as they disappear to exit the club.

"You are a troublemaker, love." Luke says as they make it down the sidewalk.

"Needed to show you're mine." she says, placing kisses down his neck as she grips his curls.

Luke groans, his hands gripping her ass harshly in which causes her to moan against his skin. "You sure are miss possessive huh?"

Y/N's face leave his neck to look up at him with the eyes she knows always make him go crazy. "So what if I am, baby?" she says lowly, his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes multiple times, biting his lip as he smirked.

"Yeah we're not making it down the road before I fuck you in this car."

#hockey boys #luke hughes #angst #y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #miss possessive

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emmyrosee · 11 months ago

Note

The “would you kiss me for $10 or the prettiest girl on the world for $1000?” trend with modern au bf sukuna 👀👀

dummy 🙄 sukuna???

SENT If you send me some fuck shit, hand to god

dummy 🙄 would you kiss me for $10

or kiss the prettiest girl ever for $1000???

SENT Depends on who the competition is

There's three dots that indicate you're typing, then they disappear. They reappear, and he chuckles as he imagines you, fighting for the words to come to your mind as he effortlessly, works your buttons. The dots disappear again, and this time, they stay gone. He quirks a brow at the lack of angry texts from you, only to then groan at the idea that this time, he's taken it too far, his jokes have gotten him nowhere, and he takes a deep breath in to keep himself cool in the dairy aisle at the convenience store.

SENT It was a joke, brat

I'd never want to kiss anyone else

Not when I get to kiss you for free, any time I want, you know that, right?

You merely put your phone on Do Not Disturb. He takes another deep breath in as he digs himself deeper into the hole of your wrath, and he quickly makes his way to the snack aisle, grabbing your favorite chips and heading straight for the candy aisle for an extra boost. By the time he's done, it looks like he's throwing a damn birthday party, but he can't bring himself to care. Not when you're at home, pouting over him.

By the time he gets home, you still haven't answered him. He braces himself for your silence as he unlocks the door and nudges it open with his knee. To his surprise, you're in the kitchen making tea, but there's a blanket covering your body with only your face peeking out.

"You look comfy," he hums, and you sneak a hand out of your cocoon to grab your mug of tea.

"Well since I'm so hideous and disgusting that even my own boyfriend doesn't want to kiss me, I've decided to become a recluse," you hiss, making your way back down the hall. "Don't follow me."

"You know I'm going to follow you," he scoffs, instantly following you down the hall into your shared bedroom. There's a blue light cascading over the walls from the tv, and the curtains are drawn shut. You put the tea on your side table and scuttle back into bed. He rolls his eyes and walks his way on your side of the bed. "Let me kiss you."

"Let me give you $10."

"I'm not taking $10-"

"Well someone has to," you snap. "At least, until you find someone just soooo much prettier than me, then you get even more money to kiss me with. Doesn't that sound like a good plan?"

"Babe, it was a joke-"

"And I'm not laughing."

He snarls his lip slightly before scooping his arms under you, hauling you up and onto his lap and ignoring your shoves and batting of hands. He wastes no time is pressing wet kisses to your cheeks and neck, relishing in how your body shakes trying to hold in your laughter.

“Don’t you ever-“ he kisses your temple firmly. “Deprive me-“ kissing your jawline. “Of your kisses.” His lips press to the corner of your mouth, and the hand not cradling your body comes up to grip your chin to hold you steady. “Brat.”

“Don’t tell me I’m not pretty then!” You whine.

“Of course you’re pretty,” he scoffs, pressing another kiss to your face. “I never said that. I would never say that. You’re the fucking prettiest. You’re mine. Of course you’re the prettiest.”

You go quiet, and he thinks you’re about to get mad at him again; however, you turn to rest your head on his shoulder, pressing a tiny kiss to his neck.

“Say more stuff like that,” you murmur.

He smirks, “there is no girl prettier than you. Trust me.” He turns his head to kiss your other cheek, squishing you slightly in the process. “Ive seen it all, baby. You’re the one. And even if someone tries to give me money to kiss you, I don’t fucking want it-“ he kisses you again. “Because I get to do it for free. And that shit’s priceless.”

“Softie,” you snort. He groans and turns his head to bite your cheek firmly, but his heart speeds up at the way you kick your feet out and flail them in protest. “Oww! I’m sorry, don’t bite!”

“I’m not a child nor a dog, woman,” he grumbles, but he does release your cheek and press a kiss to your brow bone in compensation. “No matter how you see me, anyways.”

“My feral little doggy,” you prod.

He yaks, but can’t help the smirk that curls on his cheeks from your laughter.

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bluetimeombre · 11 months ago

Text

・❥ ‘Are you Hugh down under?’

You and Hugh were the stars of the biggest movie, Wolverine and Ladypool, and fans love the two of you.

[not proof-read, some sexual innuendo, just Hugh being hot af]

part two

You and Hugh Jackman being in love for twenty-five minutes (part one)

Puppy interview

Did you take any props home with you?

'Yea, I took Hugh home,' you said, letting a puppy climb over you and onto your shoulders as Hugh laughed. 'In his suit as well.'

'In the suit,' he said, stroking the puppy in his lap.

'Yep. Great in the house, goes with all my furniture. He's well trained.'

Hugh nodded, enthusiastically. 'I'm not toilet trained, but I'm trained in other ways.'

You raise your brows and the crew laugh. 'I want to know what the other ways are now.' You smirk.

Hugh smirked back, shrugging his shoulders as he held up the puppy. 'Well, maybe you'll find out.'

What was your favourite scene to film?

'Any scene with the incredible talent sitting next to me,' Hugh started. 'Every scene was such fun and never felt like work when I got to work with her. I've never had so much fun playing a character. The whole movie at first, you know, the idea was up in the air for me about coming back but just to get the chance to work with such a talent- an honour and a privilege and I can't wait to do it again.'

Your lips pout into a smile as you listen to him. You focused on Hugh as he smiled at you. 'My favourite scene to film was when I touched his abs.'

He laughed.

'No, seriously it's been a dream of mine to work with Hugh and I can't talk about it too much cause I'd probably get emotional and that'd be embarrassing. I've grown an emotional attachment to him now,; you added.

Hugh looked around at all of the puppies. 'Is there more puppies here than usual?'

'Oh yea, there's more!'

'Someone's been making out,' said Hugh.

'Not us,' you said, leaning over.

He laughed. God, he was always laughing with you.

With Alison Hammond

The two of you sat next to each other, legs bumping into each other repeatedly to tease each other. At times you'd just throw your leg over his thigh and he'd bounce his leg. (Fans ate it up)

'Alright you two,' said Alison.

'Sorry,' you laugh. 'He's taking up too much space.'

'The Wolverine spread,' he said.

You laughed.

Alison gave her a loud laugh. 'Well, is it true, Hugh?' she asked. 'Are you huge down under?'

The three of you laughed, rocking back and forth and hitting your knees.

'I started the rumour,' you said. 'So, take that as you will.'

Hugh showed Alison his shoe as she fanned herself off.

You took another card she offered you and fanned yourself off as Hugh sat back, throwing his arms behind his head.

'So, we should probably talk about the film,' said Alison.

'Let's just talk about Hugh,' you said, leaning back just like he was. 'Ever won an Oscar, Hugh?'

He pulled a straight face at you.

'Now, can I say, Y/N, this is a bit awkward as usually it's just me and Hugh. Last time we had a date, so I've brought champagne, but only two glasses,’ she pulled off the cover that showed off the bucket.

'I'll take the bottle,' you said, reaching over the two of them. 'I can leave you guys, don't worry.'

Hugh grabbed your arm as you tried to leave. 'No, no, you can be our mediator.'

'Your intimacy coordinator more like,' you said as Alison laughed. 'I've seen how these interviews go Alison, I've never had Hugh feed me chocolates.'

Hugh reached over the table as Alison talked about 'a throuple' and he opened the box of chocolates, throwing away the thin layer of film covering them with his teeth. You only realised what was going on seconds before he fed you chocolate from his mouth. You tried to stay calm the closer you got and took the chocolate, chewing down happily.

'Feel like I'm interrupting something,' said Alison.

You stole the box from Hugh. 'Your turn, Alison!'

'So how tough was it working with Hugh, Y/N?'

You slapped your thighs dramatically. 'The toughest ever. You know sometimes I'd actually have to look at his face and I mean, have you seen this-' you frame his face, holding his chin. 'How can I work with this?'

He stuck his tongue out.

(Almost this whole interview was the two of you flirting)

Hot one's interview

'You're watching hot ones. It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we're joined by Y/N and Hugh Jackman, the stars of Wolverine and Ladypool.'

'I only let Wolverine come first so we could use the greatest showman in the movie,' you said. 'For Hugh.'

First wing and first question.

You and Hugh cheers with Sean before taking a bite. You nod, 'Good wing, subtle, nice.' You went in for another bite, surprising them.

'Oh, you're going for another bite,' said Hugh, eyes watching your lips (comments couldn't let it go).

'Yeah, I like things hot,' you tell him, giving him a dramatic wink.

'What was the movie that you watched of each other that made you realise you needed to work with each other?' asked Sean.

'As soon as I saw the first Ladypool,' said Hugh. 'I knew these two characters had to be together on screen. I was like these two characters had to be together and I'd literally announced my retirement three days before.'

'Mine was probably when I saw the first ten minutes of Australia,' you said, referring the first ten minutes in which he turns up shirtless and sweaty. 'Knew I needed to see it real-time.'

Hugh huffed out a laugh.

'Or Logan. That was, a masterpiece of a film.'

The next couple wings went down well, getting through the questions. It was the fifth when things started to get heated.

'Yep, that's a step up,' said Hugh as he went for the milk.

'Can you recall the most takes you've had to do for a scene requested by a director?' asked Sean.

'Our steamy scene in the car had quite a few takes,' you said, Hugh agreeing with a nod. 'Kept messing up, you see,' you said, winking.

'That was a difficult scene,' said Hugh.

'Why cause you had to kiss me?'

Hugh shook his head. 'That was the easiest part, I'm laughing, I'm not crying cause of the heat. But doing some of those... positions we had to do in the car, it was hard to work around.'

'I got cramp in my leg.'

He laughed loudly at the memory.

The next wing messed the two of you up, the heat creating sweat. All Hugh could do was laugh and you laughed at him as he went red.

'Look, look at this!' Hugh puts his arm up, showing his bicep.

'What am I looking at? Your raging muscles?' you ask, looking closer.

'No, the sweat.'

'Oh, sorry I was distracted.'

On the next wing, Hugh repeated he took too big a bite, how it was too big and all you had to do was give him a look with raised brows.

You and Hugh take a lie detector test

First hooked up was Hugh, you watched in glee as ties were wrapped around him.

'This is a new kink,' you said, smiling all too widely as Hugh laughed at you.

You started by asking him some simple questions that were easy answers, like his name and where he was born. 'Are you really Australian?'

'Yes.'

You looked to Louis. 'Tell me it's a lie.'

'Truth.'

'This Australian bit has got so far,' you say.

'You love it,' he said.

'We'll find out when I'm hooked up.'

'How you seen all my movies?' you asked.

He thought for a moment. 'No.'

'Deceptive.'

The two of you looked at each other with amused looks and big eyes. 'You can tell me you've seen them all, you can be a fan, I don't mind.'

He shrugged. 'Maybe I have.'

'You're a fan it's fine.'

'I'm wearing my I heart Y/N underpants today,' he said.

You looked wide-eyed and hopeful at Louis.

'Deceptive.'

You cheer.

'In 2008 you were said to be the sexiest man alive-'

'Said to be,' he scoffed. 'Pretty sure the right word is elected.'

'The question is how many copies of the magazine do you have?' you asked.

'How many do you have?' he threw back.

'I'm not the one on the fucking monitor right now.'

'A standard of fourteen hundred?'

'Is there any more to life than being really, really, really, really, really ridiculously good looking?' you ask, leaning back in your chair. 'That's not on the cards, I just want to know.'

'No.'

'Truthful.'

The two of you cackle. After a couple more questions it was your turn to swap. Hugh took delight in seeing you get tied up.

'Starting to sweat a bit,' you said. 'This really is scary.'

'Yea.'

Again, Hugh started off with some simple questions.

'Last one,' he said. 'Are you single?'

You pulled a straight face as he turned red and watched you. 'Yes, I am. Thank you for reminding me of that fact, Hugh.'

He shook his head. 'Don't worry, we can change that, we can change that.'

'Only if you're offering, bub,' you tease.

'Would you rather have had an Andrew Garfield Spider-man team up than Wolverine?' he asked.

Your jaw dropped as he showed you the question on the card. 'That's not fair I love spiderman and Andrew.'

'But do you love him more than Wolverine?' asked Hugh, feigning seriousness. He waited as you thought about it, head in his hand.

'True,' you said.

'That's a lie.'

'Ha!' Hugh shouted.

'I've shocked myself, man, I must really fancy you,' you said.

Hugh slid over a paper, showing you a picture of Channing Tatum. 'Do you think he would make a good Gambit?'

You try to act cool, he was already in the movie and Hugh knew it. 'Yes, I think he would. It's a shame his movie wasn't made. I feel bad for the guy.'

'Truthful.'

You pick up the picture. 'I love this guy, he's a great guy,' you stare down at the picture, 'He'd made a great Wolverine. I mean, I'm just getting lost in his eyes right now, looking at him.'

Hugh reached over. 'Ok, enough of that,' he took the picture and ripped it up, chucking it behind him.

You and Hugh at the premier

The camera snapped shots of the two of you wearing each other's colours. You were wearing a shimmering golden outfit while Hugh wore red. You had agreed to swap.

The two of you took pictures together, his arm wrapped around your waist, yours going between reaching up to hold his shoulder or holding his hands. You didn't stop for many interviews together, but you spoke a lot on the carpet. That tiktoker, the one good at reading lips had a field day on tiktok when she worked it all out.

Hugh: 'You look great in yellow, you know.'

You: 'You should see the colour of what I'm wearing under here.'

Hugh smirked and laughed. 'You look beautiful tonight.'

It was your turn to blush and tug him along the carpet.

#deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #x men #hugh jackman x reader

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killerpancakeburger · 1 year ago

Text

KNIGHT IN SHINING KHAKI

Gif by @bastardcompany

SUMMARY: You've angered the wrong officer. You think you're a goner when Johnny sweeps in to save the day.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader ("her" is used to refer to reader once, that's it) (+ Reader's hair is long enough to grab)

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Depressed!Reader, Insecure!Reader, Angry!Soap, Protective!Soap, GuardDog!Soap, canon violence, hurt/comfort, swearing, blood mention. Ghost makes an appearance as a matchmaker lol. The love is requited they're just insecure idiots. Making Shit Up for the Plot/military inaccuracies.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: My original prompt for this was: civilian!reader sees Soap in action and gets Horny. No Scared Just Horny.

Then I found out that Soap canonically beat up an officer. I am also obsessed with this video.

Part 1. Part 3.

This is it, you thought to yourself.

This is how I die.

The day had unfolded like any other. Your shift was over and you were locking up your office, as usual. Your attention was focused on your hands’ motion, your guard dropped, your back exposed.

This explained why, when the stranger grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the door mercilessly, you didn’t see it coming in the slightest. The fact that you had zero combat experience while the person manhandling you was a decorated military officer obviously made matters worse, but at the moment of the assault, you didn’t know that.

The thud of the collision was eclipsed almost immediately by the pain exploding in your face. Half-stunned, all you could comprehend at the moment, every single signal sent by your brain was compacted in one word: suffering. Sharp, all-encompassing. You yelped, your hands vainly pushing against the cold, hard surface to get away.

“I've finally found you, you little snitch. Didn’t think you'd get away with it, now did you?”

Despite the blood thumping in your ears, and how groggy the hit on your head made you, his words reached you perfectly. They were seeping with fury and disdain. His voice didn’t ring a bell, so you tried to turn your head to glimpse him, if only at the corner of your eye, and he granted you some leeway to do so.

Perplexity filled you as you finally caught sight of your aggressor: you've never seen that man before.

“I don't even know who you are,” you winced.

Talking back in your situation would be judged stupid and reckless by a majority of people. Laying low assured more chances to avoid harm.

However most people hadn't been mugged at knifepoint like you had been, and most people valued their lives way more than you did.

Once the confusion and incredulity subsided, the pain still vivid but manageable, you were left with frustration and anger towards your interminable bad luck and the man behind you. His aversion was harder to take seriously when it seemed to have no foundation.

The grip on your hair tightened, making you grit your teeth.

“I'll refresh your memory, then.”

One part of you managed to be pleased to know that this mystery would be solved; the rest was ringing alarm bells when hearing the underlying threats in his tone.

“Weeks ago, you filed a report for embezzlement.”

You frowned, having no recollection of his claims, before a memory emerged. You saw them in flashes: the sudden, abnormally high spendings, the certificates full of anomalies, the incoherent dates; all this lead you to complete a reporting form, just as your job required you to. It was just a formality. You hadn't even even paid attention to the name attached to the expenses, therefore the officer was still anonymous.

Your aggressor scoffs menacingly, easily reading on your face that you remembered.

“They're gonna strip me of my rank and throw me in jail because of you. I'll make you pay even if it’s the last thing I do.”

That last sentence was finished in an almost shout, making you flinch, wishing you could pass through the door.

You quietly resigned yourself to your fate. No one was coming for you. You were no stranger to the inner workings of the military - no one would dare cross an officer that high-ranked for your sake.

I've lived a good li- well, no. A pretty shitty life, actually. But at least I can say I did the right thing.

Just as you closed your eyes and braced yourself, hoping this wouldn’t drag on, a Scottish-accentuated roar resonated in the empty hall.

“Get yer hands off her-”

You had never heard Soap sound so enraged, nor his pitch so gravelly. Relief flooded through you at the sound of his voice, blended with gratitude. Tears stinged the corners of your eyes.

All of a sudden the unyielding grip on your hair was gone, the sound of something violently hitting the wall punctuating your newfound freedom.

“-ye fucking bastard!”

You immediately turned around to see what was happening, leaning against the door behind you. Your legs were too shaky to be reliable. The harmed side of your face was throbbing in pain as you took in the scene with wide eyes.

Johnny had pinned the officer against the wall with one forearm across his chest. He dealt him a punch to the face powerful enough that the resulting thud made you grimace, despite not feeling any sympathy for his target.

He managed to administer a second blow before his adversary snapped out of his stupor, and the advantage he gained from taking him by surprise ran its course.

As your assailant defended himself with the strength of someone backed into a corner, you couldn't help but fear for Soap's safety for a moment. Despite knowing that one's rank didn’t reflect their fighting prowess, a rush of anxiety passed through you at the idea that he could lose that confrontation.

Nonetheless, he quickly put your mind at ease as his skills proved to be largely superior. The gap between the two was deep enough that it was obvious even to a neophyte like you.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t do anything but stare at the display of violence with a mix of morbid fascination and sadistic satisfaction. Honestly, if you could borrow Soap's body, you would without a doubt inflict the same treatment on that man. Maybe worse. Fair payback for the threats, the smashing of your face, the probable trauma you'd get from this. Maybe not that fair. But maybe for once you'd stop trying to act like a paragon of virtue.

You should have been scared, you realized. You had never been involved in a fight before. You had never witnessed firsthand the brutality Johnny was capable of, despite being aware of it, between his status as a soldier and the reports you read. The dog tags jingling from his neck and the khaki of his uniform were like so many visual reminders that he was a killing machine. His ferocious wrath, his yelling and his punches should have made you cower in fright.

However the only feeling inhabiting you was safety, as paradoxical as it sounded. Soap was safe, you were convinced of it, consciously or not.

This whole ordeal felt like it lasted an eternity and a minute at the same time. You blinked and out of nowhere, Johnny was straddling the officer on the floor. Blows kept pouring in but they were one-sided - the sergeant had gained the upper hand. The rhythm of his strikes seemed attuned to the beatings of your heart. Each resonated inside of your ears with your skull as their echo chamber. The noise was loud enough to cover your own thoughts.

As you focused on your breathing, you managed to slow down your heartbeats, and the blood-fueled pump between your ribs no longer felt like it could burst out of your chest at any moment. You failed however to contain the tremor in your hands.

You chose to focus on Soap's hands instead. They were soaked red from blood spilled, but not his. Specks of crimson sprinkled his hair, his face, his neck, his t-shirt.

There was a certain sort of lethal beauty to this brutal display that you couldn't help but contemplate in reverent silence: the way his bicep swole when he threw his arm back before hitting his target. The tightening of the muscles beneath the tanned skin of his arms. His icy stare. The harsh line of his jaw. His stern, inflexible expression, one he usually wore in meetings or after Price gave the order to leave.

The expression of someone who would stop at nothing, provided a bleak little voice in the back of your mind. The idea didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should have.

“Not gonna make him stop?”

The familiar grunt of Ghost's voice almost made you jump out of your skin. You pivoted and the behemoth of a lieutenant was there, in casual clothes, right by your side. You had no idea when he arrived or how long he's been standing there, quiet like a shadow.

Something dark flashed in his brown eyes as his gaze lingered on the hurt side of your face.

“Why would I show mercy to someone who would have granted me none?” you scoffed bitterly.

“Someone's bloodthirsty.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You turned your attention back to Soap and Ghost did the same.

“I doubt he would listen to me.”

“He would,” stated the masked man, with the assertiveness of someone announcing a conviction.

“But if ya don't believe me…”

A beat, then.

“Oï, Johnny!”

The shout was nonchalant, like it was something he did often, calling off his sergeant from some prey like the Scotsman was his personal attack dog.

The effect was immediate.

Soap abruptly froze, blinking a couple times as if awakening from a trance. Then he perked up, and turned around, eyes searching. The first sound that left his lips was a call of your name. His gaze latched onto you and didn’t let go as he stood up and rushed towards you. The naked vulnerability, the raw openness in his voice and on his face were so earnest that they felt like a Cupid's arrow shot straight between your lungs. It left you devoid of speech and motion, so as Johnny reached for you, all you could do was try to convey your reassurances through your eyes; that you were mostly fine, and so grateful, but worried for him, that he made everything better-

His arms closing around you made the outside disappear, and suddenly the whole world came down to Johnny, and only him. His embrace was enjoyable for a second before the pressure of his body against your face woke up your contusions. You let out a muffled cry of pain and he released you immediately, swearing and apologizing. However his hands didn’t leave you, grasping your shoulders.

“C'mere hen, lemme have a look at ye.”

“Oh, I'm fine, you should worry about-”

Your voice pathetically died in your throat as he cupped your face, leaning over, way too close for your heart to not start stammering uncontrollably.

The combined attention of his fingertips on your skin and the turquoise of his eyes roaming your visage turned your cheeks into a blazing inferno.

Unable to maintain eye contact, your gaze wandered over his own injuries, a split lip and a couple of bruises.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index, tilting your face one way and the other. Your skin flared up at the contact, pleasant yet nervous tingles scattering all over your body.

“Ye sure he didn’t hit ye on that side? Yer a wee bit red.”

You bit back a whine of complaint at that comment. He couldn’t be that oblivious.

“Yer makin’ it worse, Johnny.” sneaked Ghost, the amusement manifest in his voice - at least to you.

Soap looked up to him, frowning in incomprehension, indignant.

“The hell ya on aboot L.T.? How am ah makin’ it worse?”

You panicked.

“Shut up Riley!” you hissed, in a desperate attempt to put a stop to his shenanigans, forgetting that you were supposed to be severely intimidated by the masked man.

That drew a gruff chuckle out of him. Your sudden outburst caused Johnny to release you.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you two even here, anyway?”

You were kind of proud of your ability to change the subject.

“Was comin’ tae get ye fer a game,” smiled Soap, and it reminded you of a pet proudly presenting its owners with its findings.

“This one wasn’t coming back, and neither of you were answering your phones, so we figured somethin’ went wrong. And we were right. This poor fucker is wanted. Called in reinforcements to deal with him.”

Footsteps’ noises caught your attention. A group of soldiers in uniform seized your aggressor and brought him to his feet, before unceremoniously shoving him in the direction opposite of you.

“Gotta tell Gaz the game ain't happening tonight.”

By the time you took in what Ghost had said, and turned away from the procession, he had already disappeared.

“This isn’t over,” menaced the officer, passing by your spot as he was hauled away. “When I get out-”

“Shut the fuck up,” snarled Soap instantly, protectively positionning himself in front of you.

“Found yourself a faithful guard dog, uh?” the other man taunted.

One one hand, that last remark wasn’t so far from the truth - he had been acting a lot like that: barking threats, baring his teeths, standing between you and the menace, reducing a man to a bloody pulp for hitting you…

But on the other hand, letting that piece of shit talk to Johnny this way was simply out of the question.

Before thinking, you found yourself walking in front of the sergeant and retorting.

“What, jealous he's ten times the man you'll never be?”

Fortunately for you, he was dragged away before he could snap anything back. That didn’t prevent you from regretting your snarky comment immediately. It had been a purely impulsive urge, the kind that could make you feel heavy remorse for days, if not years. As if this seasoned combat expert needed your aid to defend himself. The idea was ludicrous.

You didn’t get a moment to mope around however, as Johnny proceeded to grab you by the hips and press you flush against him with a jubilant smirk. You couldn’t do much except prop yourself with both hands on his pectorals to avoid stumbling.

“My hero.” he praised like a smitten damsel in distress.

“Look who's talking.”

You lowered your gaze despite yourself, mumbling your reply, a half smile on your lips, embarrassed but amused.

“Going after bastards is mah job, not yours. You gutsy little thing.”

You refrained a sarcastic laughter at the nickname - gutsy and little were two things you have never been called, as far as you can remember. But you weren't about to argue with the man who just saved your sorry ass.

His fingers pressed into your flesh, sending tickles at the bottom of your spine.You were about to ask him to let you go, the position too incriminating for this public setting, when you noticed how dilated his pupils were. He had to be high on adrenaline from the fight.

You may have let yourself get lost in the blue pools of his eyes, until his expression turned grave.

“Ye sure yer good? Yer too calm about this. No need tae put oan a brave face fer me, aye?”

The genuine, serious concern in his eyes made the inside of your stomach twist.

“I'm good. You arrived just in time,” you assured.

How peculiar it felt to be the one to comfort Johnny, rather than the opposite; that the lionhearted, superhuman sergeant Mactavish might even need such a thing; that he might require it from you, of all people.

“He didn’t get to do much.”

His pretty features contorted into a scowl at the reminder of your attacker.

“That sonuvabitch… raising a hand on ye in broad fuckin’ daylight… if he ever touches ye again, I swear I’ll…”

As he kept fulminating against your assailant, you couldn’t stop an endeared smile from spreading on your lips. Listening to one of Soap's rants brightened your mood; it was familiar. The sincerity in his words and his tone was welcome. He wasn’t able to fake those emotions even if he wanted to; they spilled out of him like a waterfall. His honest worry and righteous ire towards someone who hurt you was… flattering, in a sense. It made you feel cared for, like you mattered.

Then red started dripping.

“Johnny… your nose is bleeding.”

He wiped it negligently with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing it over his face. You couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Bend over. It will stop faster.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

He punctuated his quip with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes.

“Let's just go to medical already.” you grumbled, starting to walk decisively, albeit stiffly, in the right direction.

“Aye, aye,” acquiesced your savior, jogging a bit to catch up to you.

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tojirights · 1 year ago

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Prompt “❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜” with alastor :3

Likke reader has been with multiple people but alastor is the first person to make her cum 0.0

prompt: Hii I really like your work! Can you do face sitting with alastor like reader mentions that she wants to sit on alastor face to angel and alastor overhears or angels says outlook to husk while his wasted thank youu

a/n: combining these two prompts!! ^ thinking maybe alastor overhears you talking with angel about your woes and offers to uhhh assist 👀

"the guys down here suck, angel." you sigh, sitting next to angel in the hotel lounge. you crack open your beer and hand him one as well. "yer tellin' me, babe." he chuckles. "whats got ya worked up this tIme?" he hums, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "thats the thing! nothing!" you groan, leaning into his body. "you know how many times i've tried hooking up with someone just for them to bust in 30 seconds and rub my inner thigh?" angel almost chokes on his drink.

"they're the worst. no one down here has been able to make me cum but myself." you mutter, taking a sip of your drink. "who do you want, hm?" angel asks. "maybe i can hook ya up with someone good." he wiggles his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you. the alcohol is making you feel a little brave, so with a sigh, you let your words free. "y'know who i think about all the time?" angel's eyes widen with interest, anticipation building.

"alastor..." you admit for the first time out loud. angel does choke on his drink this time before he laughs. "bitch! the radio demon?!" he barely contains his cackle. "stop! i mean, have you seen him? god, angel. i'd get down on my knees and bark if he told me to. i wanna sit on his face, hold onto his antlers for support. ughh, he's so hot." you whine into angel's chest, embarrasmemt finally setting in. angel tries to contain himself, but you've never said something so out of pocket but also very relatable.

unbeknownst to you, alastor stands not far behind you, his ears twitching as he listens in. a part of him does feel a tinge of guilt for listening, but you'd be quieter if you didn't want anyone to hear you. "well now, isn't that interesting?" alastor's voice makes you jump, almost tossing your beer straight onto angel. "oh fuck..." angel all but pushes you over in an attempt to get away.

"oh my god. alastor i'm so sorry, i was just-" you scramble to defend yourself, but alastor puts his staff under your chin to raise your eyes to his. "what was that you said about wanting to... sit on my face? about these worthless little demons not knowing how to treat a woman?" the sultry tone in his voice has you clenching your thighs together, which you blame on the alcohol swirling in your gut. you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush this off as alastor teasing you but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's dead serious. "it's nothing! just venting some frustrations, that's all."

your eyes are a dead giveaway, desire flooding them as you peer up at alastor. "why don't you accompany me to my room for the evening, darling? we wouldn't want these inexperienced fools to try and make a move now, would we?" he extends his hand, and you decide to throw caution to the wind. standing, you let him pull you close. "blow my mind, radio boy." you whisper, watching alastor's eyes darken and his smirk grow. alastor uses the shadows, leading you straight to his room in a mere moment.

your heart rate sky rockets, realization hitting your gut as you start to strip. "how long has it been?" he asks, picking you up with ease and carrying you to the bed. "w-what?" you hesistate, watching as alastor ushers you to climb on top of him. "since someone else made you cum?" you swallow, straddling his chest. "i don't even remember al..." alastor's hands come around to grip your ass and pull you forward. with a gasp, you brace yourself on the headboard and then the feeling of alastor's tongue immediately has your brain turning to mush.

it's dizzying, the slide of his tongue up and down your slit was already far better than anything you've experienced in such a long time. "o-oh fuck." your body shudders, barely being able to hold still. alastor's tongue dips passed your entrance, lapping up your juices like a man starving. you already feel that familiar coil in your stomach forming, threatening to snap all over alastor's face. "that's, oh god alastor, that's so good." you moan, gripping tighter on the headboard as your hips start to stutter on their own.

then, you feel alastor's hands on your ass start to push and pull you, forcing your cunt to slide over his tongue. "y-you, i'm gonna-" you can't even think straight, pleasure blinding you to anything else happening in the entire world. alastor hums against your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and that's it, you're cumming hard enough that your vision goes dark and tears well in your eyes.

you're shaking, barely being able to breathe as alastor's tongue runs lazy circles over your still sensitive clit to ride out your orgasm. before you're fully recovered, alastor quickly flips you onto your back and his fingers find your puffy pussy. "you have no idea the honor it is to be the only one to see you like this, my dear. the only one to feel you-" he pauses, pushing two fingers inside your needy cunt so he can hear your sweet moans. "cum. and i will be the only one to continue feeling that. you will cum on my face, my fingers, my cock... anything you please."

the desire burning in your core strengthens once more. not even your own fingers have ever made you cum twice, but alastor is about to pull a second orgasm from you almost completely back to back. "make me cum again." you whine, hips arching further off the bed as his fingers pump in and out slowly. "on your cock, fuck, please fuck me alastor."

alastor chuckles, his free hand unbottoning the front of his pants just enough to free his cock. "how could i deny such a good girl? cum on my cock, my princess." in an instant, alastor's fingers are replaced by the thickness of his cock. the first thrust alone has you teetering on the edge, while his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit.

your pussy clenches around his girth, pulsing with every sweep of his finger. each thrust of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, his cock filling you like no one else could ever. "y-you, gonna cum again." you cry out, spasms wrecking your body as your second orgasm hits even more intense with the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy.

alastlor groans, pumping his cock deeper, deeper until he's cumming as well. "such a good girl." he grunts, pushing each thick rope of cum further inside. "you won't ever have to worry about not being taken care of, my dear." he assures, pulling out slowly even as your cunt tries to squeeze him in. "there's plenty more where that came from, rest your pretty little eyes." he coos, pulling a blanket on your tired body.

you just know this is going to be the best sleep pf your fucking life...

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you #hazbin alastor smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor smut #alastor imagines #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you smut #hazbin smut #alastor hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader imagines

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ordinary-barbie · 2 months ago

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heyy, i hope you're doing well! may i request billy hargrove x fem!reader, where she's this sweet & kind girly who loves bows, pink, mini skirts etc. then one day steve tries to flirt with her, unaware that she's dating billy, and he gets all jealous and protective of his girl. ends in smut with talk like "who do you belong to", maybe? only if you're comfy with that ofc, feel free to ignore! <3

aw, you're so sweet! thanks for the request <3

shock the monkey.

word count: 1.9k

tags: modern au, college au, established relationship, language, poor billy is insecure, jealous!billy, possessive!billy, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader on birth control), cowgirl, creampie, cockwarming, reader is briefly referred to as a slut but not in a negative way, a bit of nancy x steve at the end

summary: Billy reminds you who you belong to.

note: this was meant to be short but I got carried away lmao. also: title from a song by Peter Gabriel!

minors DNI - 18+ only!

Some things about life are just obvious. The sun rises in the day and sets at night. Every day of the week ends in "y." And the most obvious of all—you only had eyes for Billy Hargrove, and he only had eyes for you.

You and Billy had gotten together during your freshman year of college, though you'd known him since he moved to your town in high school, smelling like too much cologne and carrying a massive chip on his shoulder. It didn't take long for the girls at school to fall at Billy's feet, yet only one of them caught his eye—you, the sweet girl who sat next to him in English class and was entirely too nice to an asshole like him.

Billy didn't think a girl like you—all bows and miniskirts, soft smiles and sympathetic looks—would be into him at all, so he spent senior year bedding any girl who showed the slightest bit of interest. It was easier than actually being vulnerable with his feelings. And that was that, until you and Billy ended up at the same college, running into each other at a post-football game kickback at some frat house. The rest, as they say, was history.

Now you and Billy were joined at the hip, to the point where the whole school was chattering about you two. You were puzzled at the fascination with you and Billy's relationship—you thought that whole "It couple" thing was so high school. But Billy had fast become a well-liked guy on campus, in one of the top frats, so maybe this just came with the territory. It was like being a civilian dating a celebrity, though you knew Billy would scoff at that comparison.

Billy's frat was holding a costume party, despite Halloween being a month away, and you and he had progressed to the ultimate sign of coupledom—matching costumes. You and Billy were Barbie and Ken, your idea, of course. Billy was running late (he'd headed to the store for a new bottle of styling gel, and you knew how detailed his hair routine was), so you were passing the time by gabbing with some friends about the latest Greek life gossip.

You were about to refill your solo cup when the scent of Old Spice hit your nose. You looked up, finding yourself face-to-face with a guy sporting a mullet of dark brown hair and twinkling brown eyes. He was wearing a Top Gun jumpsuit and a pair of black shades perched on top of his head.

"Oh, hey there, Maverick," you teased. "Nice costume!"

The guy grinned at you. "Thanks! You make a pretty nice Barbie yourself. Big fan of the movie."

"Wasn't it so good?" you agreed, smiling. "Hey, what's your name? Don't think I've seen you around these parts before." You gave your name, offering up a small, friendly wave.

"I'm Steve," the guy said, running a hand through his hair. "Just transferred here this semester. I play club soccer, but my roommate dragged me to this party so I could, and I quote, 'mingle with people and shit.'"

You chuckled. "And are you enjoying the mingling so far?"

Steve looked at you fondly. "I certainly am now."

Meanwhile, Billy had returned, quickly throwing his costume on before teasing his hair with the styling gel. He bounded down the steps, ready to make out with his Barbie. Then he spotted you talking to some douche in a Top Gun costume who was clearly trying to make a move. Oh fuck no. He clenched his jaw, making his way over to you.

"Getting the party started without me, huh?" Billy asked casually, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as he stared daggers into Steve.

"Howdy there, cowboy. Glad you finally showed up," you said, smiling up at your boyfriend.

Steve cleared his throat, glancing nervously at Billy. "Uh, hey. I'm Steve. And is she your...girlfriend?"

Billy flashed Steve a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, she is. So back away, Steven."

"Actually, it's just Steve—"

Billy waved a hand dismissively. "Don't care. Find someone else to flirt with, all right?"

"I'm so sorry about him," you apologized to Steve. "I hope you can still enjoy the party!"

Steve shrugged, seeming unbothered. "Nah, it's cool. Honest mistake. Nice meeting you!" He smiled shyly at you before disappearing into the crowd.

"Upstairs. Now," Billy muttered into your ear. He looked up at your friends, finally acknowledging there were other people in the room. "Hope you don't mind if I steal her for a few, ladies."

Nancy, your roommate, smirked knowingly at you and Billy. "Don't have too much fun up there, all right?"

Billy grinned lazily. "Can't make any promises, Wheeler."

You said your goodbyes to your friends and let Billy lead you into his bedroom, feeling nervous yet excited. You knew he couldn't have been pleased that you were talking to another guy, and you had a feeling a "punishment" was coming your way.

"Babe. Who the fuck was that guy down there, huh?" Billy murmured. "I thought everyone at this school knows that you're mine."

"Steve just transferred here this semester," you explained. "He seemed really nice! I was just trying to be friendly."

"Yeah? Well he was just trying to fuck you," Billy bluntly responded. "I saw the way he was looking at you. And I love how friendly you are, baby, I really do. I just wish other guys would learn to fuck off."

"Billy, I'm allowed to talk to other guys, you know," you said, raising an eyebrow at him. "And if Steve had tried to put any moves on me, I would've shut it down so fast. You know that."

Billy sighed. He knew he was acting insanely jealous. But he couldn't help it. You were perfect, and Billy was afraid that he would lose you. Especially to someone like Steve, who seemed exactly like the type of guy a sweet girl like you should be with.

You looped your arms around Billy's neck, looking at him like he hung the moon in the sky. "Billy Hargrove, I only want you, okay? Don't you ever forget that," you insisted.

Billy's cheeks turned red. Even after a year, he was still getting used to the utter affection you showed. You picked him. You wanted him.

His heart swelled with affection, but a more primal part of him needed to stake his claim. "I love you, baby, but I gotta remind you who you belong to," Billy drawled, undressing you with his eyes.

You didn't have to be told twice. You quickly wriggled out of your costume, and Billy did the same, pinning you to the mattress as he kissed you deeply.

Billy put your legs on top of his shoulders as he ate you out, slurping you up greedily while you writhed with pleasure. "This pussy is mine," he mumbled, sucking at your clit. "You think Steven could eat you out like this?"

"N-No," you hiccuped, feeling a low heat swirling in your stomach.

"Nobody will ever know your body like I do, baby," Billy said, plunging two fingers into you and stroking your clit. His possessiveness was incredibly arousing, and you felt your orgasm rip out of you as fast as lightning.

Usually, Billy loved to tease you, loved to drag out the foreplay until you were begging for him. But he was too impatient tonight. Billy plunged into you, and you let out the prettiest moan as you dug your nails into his back. He secretly hoped Steve heard that.

Billy grunted as he pumped in and out of you, his hands roaming your body. No part went untouched—not your hips, your thighs, or those beautiful tits.

"You're mine," Billy stated, rubbing quick circles against your clit and eliciting another orgasm from you. "All right? 'm not gonna let anyone else think they even have a chance. They can't fuck you like I can."

"'m yours," you muttered breathlessly. "I love you. Only want your dick, Billy."

Billy smirked, shifted your positions so you could ride his dick. He picked up the cowboy hat you'd discarded on the floor and placed it on your head.

"Really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just indulge me, princess," Billy replied, his voice slow and smooth like honey.

Billy grabbed your hips as you began to ride him, groaning at the feeling of your warm pussy clenching around his length. He stared into your eyes, your pupils blown out with lust. You were sweet as pie, but when the two of you started sleeping together, you and Billy discovered how much of a horny slut you could be. Billy loved that there was this completely different side to you that only he got to see.

"Squeezing me so good, baby. I dunno how much longer I can last," Billy warned, relishing the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him. He couldn't be more grateful that you'd decided to go on the pill recently—he didn't think he could stop himself from coming inside your tight, wet pussy.

"Just come for me one more time first," Billy pleaded, brushing against your spongy walls with his tip. "Need to feel that warm cunt around me again."

You cried out Billy's name, creaming all over his cock. Billy followed close behind, filling you up with hot, sticky cum.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, Billy's cock nestled inside of you as it softened. "Sorry for getting so jealous," Billy mumbled into your shoulder.

You smiled. "You didn't punch anybody, so it's all good," you joked. "It was honestly kinda hot. Love seeing how much you care for me."

Billy chuckled, kissing your neck. "Just don't get too friendly with him, all right?"

"Billy, I have your cum inside of me and I'm letting you cockwarm. I don't think you have anything to worry about," you quipped.

He knew that, but a little validation never hurt. "I'm obsessed with you," Billy murmured, gripping you like a koala. "You're stuck with me."

You smiled, relaxing into your boyfriend's embrace. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

bonus:

You and Billy were giddy as you made it back to your apartment. He'd aced a midterm he was stressed about, and you had taken him out to eat to celebrate. Nancy had told you she was going out, and you were looking forward to having the apartment to yourself, wanting to do nothing but make out and cuddle with Billy.

You hung up your coat and headed to your room to change, stopping in your tracks when you saw something out of the corner of your eye.

Nancy's door was open, and she was currently straddling a guy. But not just any guy—Steve.

"Oh my God," Nancy muttered, she and Steve looking mortified at being caught.

You let out a giggle. "Sorry, lovebirds. Didn't mean to disturb you!"

"Hey there," Steve greeted you weakly.

"Don't get her pregnant, all right?" you teasingly warned Steve. You cackled as his face turned bright red.

Nancy looked like she wanted to disappear. You decided to stop teasing your friend and closed her door, instantly running to Billy to gossip.

"Billy. I just saw Nancy and Steve hooking up," you whispered conspiratorially. "It's about time, honestly."

Billy snorted. "Good for Harrington. I was getting sick of hearing about his little crush."

You grinned. "I still can't believe you and Steve are actually friends now. It's so cute."

Billy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I guess he's all right," he murmured, though you saw the corners of his mouth tick up.

You hummed knowingly, leaning your head on Billy's shoulder. You didn't have any more words at the moment—you were just filled with adoration for everyone in this little apartment of yours.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove smut #stranger things fanfiction #tiff writes ✏️#request

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