#but they sure are making things much worse

[cinnamonest]

Really loving the thought of being violated with forced kisses, rather than sex.

Yes, the sex is one thing, holding you down no matter how much you struggle and ramming his body into yours — but this is different. It's sensual, sure, but more… romantic, or at least a crude imitation of a romantic act. Less directly lewd, less perverse, more vulnerable.

More intimate, and all the more violating for it.

He still makes it fairly sensual — the hand that isn't nearly crushing your jaw as he holds your head still is instead roaming under your shirt, grasping at the flesh. But the way your faces are so close, the lack of harsh movement and rapid intensity as when he's inside you, the slowness of it all, it makes your stomach churn.

Feeling the hot breath on your face each time he pulls back for just a brief moment, the sensitivity of your lips capturing the sensation of his pressed to yours. The way you move downward as he leans forward and pushes you down onto your back without even breaking away. His hands squeeze on your waist as they begin to make their way beneath your waistband, just as his tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth, violating you in a way that somehow feels more humiliating and vulnerable than anything else, forcing himself into you, forcing you open and baring yourself to him against your will.

The worst part, though, is the sound — it's a wet, smacking sort of sound, that only gets worse and amplified as his tongue moves against yours, warm and soft.

Only rivaled in the way it makes you tremble by the increasing intensity, the way the sounds from his throat becomes like low growls, the force with which he presses his face to yours, the grip on your jaw growing painfully tight, the increasing harshness of each movement and the way he begins to rut his cock against your groin through each other's clothes…

Finally pulling away, only to mutter soft curses as any remaining inhibition is lost, and the coolness of the air washes over your skin as he jerks your clothes off in just a few swift, forceful motions, eager to force the rest of himself inside you too.

[leonw4nter]

Look Into My Eyes and You Won’t Ever Have To Ask

DI!Leon and F!Reader

“Y/N, we’re going to jump into the water. We’ll have to brace for impact, you especially.” Leon informs you urgently as he clutches the top of his dislocated shoulder but he eyes your broken rib, obviously putting more emphasis on your injury even though both your conditions are critical.

“Will we make it with your arm?” You ask before wincing. “Don’t force it back into the joint, you’ll make things worse for yourself.”

Leon scoffs, a soft gust of wind leaving his chapped and busted lips that are somehow still curled skyward. “Drop’s not that high but we still gotta be careful and don’t worry, I won’t pop this thing back in place. I’m not that stupid.”

You two look down from the platform and into the dark and rocky water below; the drop is high and along with other metal debris falling into the water, jumping would be dangerous. The response team’s arrival can’t be estimated due to several factors so you’re not sure how long you and Leon have to stay out in the water; treading will be difficult for him due to his arm and it’s not going to be easy helping Leon stay afloat due to a cracked rib and what you’re guessing, a fractured hip as well. This mission has not been kind to you and him, the B.O.Ws involved seemingly much stronger than those you two have dealt with in the past. The mission was supposed to be a lot simpler, a “slip in and slip out” kind of mission but due to unforeseen circumstances, you two are now on a high platform with broken bones while dressed in formal clothing. There was an auction afterparty on a private island that you two had to infiltrate while posing as a married couple, complete with rings and an expertly-falsified marriage certificate. The goal was to grab the lone sample of an engineered Plaga strain to bring back to a research lab and have scientists re-engineer the DNA to try and weaken it. Sounded simple enough until someone’s advisor recognized Leon and had you two’s cover blown and now landed you two in this shitty situation. Mentally and physically preparing yourselves as much as you can, you two slip your shoes off and chuck them to the water to prevent adding weight to your bodies because staying afloat will prove to be a challenge.

Just as you were about to say you were ready, a Tyrant busts the door and spots the two of you. Not sparing a moment for you two to even think of getting ready, the B.O.W runs towards the both of you. Leon gives you a look and swiftly takes your hand, the both of you leaping into the ocean with eyes shut and breaths held. The impact of sinking into the water knocks the wind out of your lungs, cracked ribs uncomfortably disturbed. Your eyes open, greeted by the dark black blur of the ocean and salt of the sea slowly irritating them. You turn to look for Leon, fighting the pain of your injury and trying to spot him amidst the black sea. You spot a suit trying to swim upwards to get air and that is enough confirmation for you so you try to swim upwards to get some air and try to look for a chopper. Unfortunately, something tugs against your leg and it appears that debris has hooked around your ankle and is dragging you downwards. You bend down and try to wriggle your foot free, feeling around in the dark since you couldn’t see. Fortunately for you, you managed to get it out and you furiously try to get back to the surface to tell Leon you’re fine.

You gasp sharply and tread water despite the roaring ache in your arms and legs, your head turning here and there to look for your partner.

“Y/N!”

You heard a strained call for your name, trying to locate him amidst the splashing surface due to the pitter patter of heavy rains on the surface of the water obstructing your view.

“Leon!” You call out and try to swim to him but he yells your name in a perturbed tone.

“Big wave!”

You look to your right and see a large wave headed for the both of you. You didn’t have time to fully sink back down and so the wave tossed you, causing you to accidentally swallow some water and choke on it while fighting for your life. Could it get any worse? It could, since the Tyrant above you decided to rip the metal door off of its hinges and throw it down into the water above you. Tossed and disoriented in the water while choking, you didn’t realize that you were heading in the direction of a metal part of the door jutting out. You hit your head hard and fell unconscious, all the thrashing and efforts slowly coming to a halt.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon woke up in a hospital, his right arm placed in a sling and his other arm attached to IV drips. There were several electrodes stuck to his chest, connected to a beeping machine. Dazed and confused, especially with the bright lights of the hospital room, he nimbly sat up despite the dizziness that overcame him and got up, not minding if he was connected to several machines. The sudden commotion alerts the nurses on duty, rushing to him just as he reaches to remove the devices attached to him.

“Sir, please calm down–”

“Where is she–”

“Sir, you can’t–”

“Where’s my wife?!”

He had never yelled like that, not even during training when cadets couldn’t get their form right. Not even when he was frustrated with how life turned out for him.

“Where’s my wife? I need to see her,” he repeats less loudly but still retaining the same stern tone he used earlier. He isn’t moving as much but he keeps his eyes peeled on the door of his hospital room.

“She’s on the same floor, 3 rooms across yours, sir. She’s still unconscious the last time I checked so please be careful and try not to make any sudden noise,” a nurse tells him. He calms down, his body no longer as tense as it was earlier. His shoulders sink, occasionally moving his free arm so the nurses can reattach the electrodes that have gone loose when he moved violently earlier.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “And thank you. For telling me.”

“It’s fine, sir. You did that out of love and concern for your wife. You must love her very much if you lost your cool and acted irrationally just to make sure she’s safe.”

“Ah. Yes, of course.”

The nurses helping him simply smiled and continued making sure all instruments on him were secure before helping him back to his hospital bed and making sure he was laying comfortably and didn’t place any pressure on any other injuries he sustained. Before the last nurse turned around to leave him be for the time being to go call a doctor and have the doctor check his vitals, she informed him that guests aren’t allowed at your room for the time being that you’re unconscious. He nods, understanding since you did take a particularly dangerous hit to the head and nearly drowned. He sits in silence, head hung low as he looks at himself and sees his injured arm on a black sling and his suit discarded in favor of a hospital gown. Purples and yellows, along with some small red spots, decorate his skin along with new scars among old ones. Now that he’s more aware of how he’s feeling, he realizes just how much his back hurts and how sore his joints feel. He’s no stranger to an achy and sore body, especially after missions, but as his age progressed the pain seems to have increased along with it. He can’t carry heavy things like he used to and he now takes longer breaks to regain his bearings after training. His gaze falls on his hand and notices the fact that his ring is missing first, not the redness and the bruising in his knuckles on top of recovering wounds from the previous mission. His eyes widened, looking around for his ring until his gaze fell on the ring inside of a tiny ziplock on his bedside table. He sighs, a small lock of brown hair falling down and covering his eye. His mind drifts back to the mission and his small outburst earlier, flitting between the two events. He feels guilty to have taken longer to bring you back up to the surface despite the arm proving to be difficult to swim with. If only he’d already swam up to you and moved you two somewhere less prone to having debris dropped on, you wouldn’t be suffering a concussion. If only he didn’t resist having you style his hair differently, that damn man wouldn’t have recognized him and caused an uproar. For once in a long time, none of his thoughts went into whether or not the mission was a success; he was entirely concerned with your well-being as a nasty guilt eroded his heart slowly and painfully. He loved you, he loved you dangerously for he would do anything brash if it meant securing your safety at the expense of his. He cherished you more than the stars that the night sky offered for your presence outshone even the most stellar cluster of stars. He cherished you more than the serenity that solitude offered for in your presence he could find a peace that solitude could never offer him. He knew the lone and solitary path, having gone down that road almost all his life but when he knew you, he could never go back to living without you by his side again. Hell, he loves you more than he does with whatever freedom he has left after being forced to work for the government for when he’s with you, he finds the true meaning of liberty. For the first time in the longest time, he prays. He stopped praying in the winter of the same year he turned 21, the prospect of believing in a God and holding on to a prayer as good as stupid and a waste of breath. Despite his doubt with the heavens, he is firm in his belief that you will recover soon. In a universe where he sees no god, he prays for you for in you he has found something sacred.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

He waits for several days and nights, occasionally getting up from his room to drag himself and the IV drip to the locked door of your hospital room. He tells nurses passing by that he’s your “husband” and that he just wants to see you, even for a little bit. The more he explains to nurses that he’s your “husband”, he feels like a liar. On a fake piece of paper, he is, but do you really want him to be your husband? He is far from ideal– he used to be a heavy drinker, he’s got emotional baggage, and a life with him would put her and possibly, your future family, in constant danger. He knows you’re very capable, more than capable in fact, to defend yourself but you can only do so much to defend yourself, you lying unconscious in a bed attached to tubes being proof of that. As he turns to walk back into his room, a million thoughts run through his head; he decides to tell you about how he feels and treat you the best he can, whether or not you feel the same way towards him. He’ll even request the D.S.O. to put both of you on a break since you both deserve time to focus on your recovery and pursuit of interests outside of work. He also considers writing a book to record his thoughts but considering the injury on his dominant arm, he realizes that writing will be a lot more difficult. On the steps back to his room, he also mentally lists down what he wants to gift you but he stops himself– realizing that he’s getting too ahead of himself.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Oh, he did react violently. Very violently.” your nurse tells you as the doctor with her takes your vitals.

You asked her how he’s doing as soon as you got up, looking around worriedly for your ring and your other belongings. The lights disoriented you for a moment, too bright for your pupils that are still adjusting after being asleep for nearly an entire month. You also learned that he got discharged 2 weeks ago but still came by often to visit you. He’s also been said to occasionally brush your hair away from your face and change the water from the vase and flowers he brought you a day after he got discharged.

“He was yelling, moving so much and screamed ‘where’s my wife?!’. Honestly, it was so cute!” she said with a wide smile.

“The entire floor heard him since he opened the door loudly and screamed even louder but he cared less, even if his ass is poking out of his hospital gown.”

You blushed at the mental image of Leon looking for you like a madman in a hospital gown where he’s naked at the back.

“He only calmed down after we told him where you were and he stayed in his room, head hung low the entire day and we all honestly felt bad for him.”

You nodded to her words, your gaze falling to the ring in the ziploc baggie on your bedside table. You asked for a phone and called him, telling him that you woke up and he can come visit you.

“He seemed really happy, could tell that wideass grin of his even through the phone,” you told the nurse and doctor while they smiled and giggled for you.

“Go give him the best kiss you’ve ever given him and profess your love again like it’s the first time!”

Their words made you blush again, only this time it’s because they don’t know you two aren’t exactly married. You two have only kissed once and that was during the fake wedding that the company set up for you two, present with a witness with no affiliation to any of the guests or you two. You’re not even sure if him talking to you was purely out of kindness or if he did that in order to keep up the image that things have not gone awkward. You’re even surprised Leon doesn’t seem to have been picking up the hints you’ve been dropping at him; for an agent who’s trained to be highly perceptive of people’s actions and body language, he sure doesn’t know how to pick up signs that you’re flirting with him. Unless he doesn’t want you. You groan and carefully rest your head on the pillow behind you but you stop, wincing because you just remembered you’ve got a busted rib or two.

A few minutes later, the sliding door to your room opens and in comes Leon with a bouquet of sunflowers on his free hand because the other is on a black sling. His black leather jacket is draped over his shoulders and he can hardly contain his joy at seeing you awake.

Placing the bouquet on your lap, he cages you in for a hug with consideration for your injuries. You swear you hear a soft sniffle from him and feel his body slightly jerk and as he pulls back, he’s got semi-glossy eyes.

“Y/N. Hey, how are you feeling?” He softly asks as he takes your hand in his.

“Feeling amazing. You?”

“Better than ever now that you’re up.”

“That’s good.”

A comfortable silence settles between the both of you, Leon taking one more good look at you. He thought he had a ton of things on his chest but that couldn’t compare to the amount you had on yours– literally and metaphorically. He breaks the silence first by clearing his throat before speaking.

“I– Uh… I got you some flowers,” he explains as he picks up the bouquet and shows some of the flowers to you.

He definitely picked it up in a rush since you spot a small card in the middle of all the sunflowers that says ‘well wishes on your new business’ in swirly gold lettering. You smile for the first time in a long time, finding the gesture to be sweet coming from Leon. He probably got it seeing as how sunflowers seemed to be a bright and happy kind of flower and he wanted you to feel even a little bit positive even in this condition and it’s definitely working but you still decided to ask him why he chose sunflowers amidst all the different pre-packaged flowers.

“Why sunflowers?” you ask as you gently inhale the scent of the flowers despite sunflowers being odorless.

“It only made sense for me to get these for you since sunflowers always face the sun,” he explains as he drags a chair to sit down on as he talks. “I go to you when I need help with something and you’re always there for me so I guess… in a way… you’re kind of like my sun.”

His words trigger your heart to ram itself against your ribcage, your heartbeat thundering so loudly in your ear as you imagine color furiously rushing to fill in the paleness of your face. Leon looks away, a hand making its way to the back of his neck and rubbing it. His gaze returns to you but his eyes shoot up to his brows, picking up your hand with a finger clipped to the pulse oximeter, looking at you worriedly.

“Your pulse is picking up. You alright? Need water? A nurse?” he rapidly asks. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

The pulse oximeter continues to display your heightened heart rate and you want to tell Leon that you feel fine– amazing even– but that would contradict with the reading of the device. You can’t tell him that whatever he just said made your heart race because you love like him so much, it’s almost embarrassing.

“Water would be nice,” you say. He gets up and pours you a glass of water, handing it to you carefully while keeping his hand near the glass in case you don’t have the strength to hold it yet. For the entire day, he tells you all about what he’s been up to while you were unconscious– the break that the D.S.O. gave to the both of you, the mission, his arm, his thoughts while you were gone, and a lot more things.

“Leon Kennedy prayed for me?” you ask in shock, mouth agape while still curled into a perplexed smile. “Leon ‘religion is beyond me’ Kennedy clasped his hands together, shut his eyes, and devoted a few moments of his day to pray for me.”

You laugh heartily, clapping along. You find the image of Leon praying to be a little funny, impossible even; you know about Leon’s past on religion and how he was a practicing Catholic up until the winter of the same year he turned 21 but it seemed so foreign for him to be praying for you. Little did you know, he found himself praying because his love for you taught him devotion in feelings more powerful than he.

“Shut up,” he mumbles while his cheeks burn pink. “Don’t laugh at me like that, at least it worked.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You told Leon about what the nurses told you about him nearly having a meltdown as soon as he woke up. You’ve never seen him bury his face into his hands and groan, leaning into your side and burying his face there as he pulled his leather jacket above his head and begged you to stop teasing him about it. It’s been a week since you’ve woken up and Leon’s visited you every single day since then, occasionally bringing personal items you told him to bring for you or lunch boxes he cooked and made for you. Bento boxes, he called them. He showed you the entire playlist of YouTube videos he made full of bento box cooking videos, some of the videos having the red bar underneath them.

“Rebecca told me all about them, said that they were balanced with everything you’ll need to recover,” he explained. “They’re pretty neat, actually. It’s fun making them look all cutesy for you. I’m pretty sure we’re giving the nurses a new reason to giggle every day.”

You smile as you take a bite of the spam, humming in satisfaction as the flavors erupt. You thank him for the effort he’s been putting into cooking for you, to which he smiles and nods to.

“Leon,” you say as you put the lid back on the bento box. “Um– I’ve… There’s…. I have to tell you something.”

“Hm?” He says, putting his pocketbook into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“We’re on a break right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

He shifts in the chair and you begin to fiddle with something small in between your fingers.

“Are we still required to keep this up?”

He stays silent for a moment until you gesture to the rings on both of your hands. “Not sure but not until we confirm that the mission is a success in a briefing, I guess we have to.”

“You don’t have to cook for me, you know. The hospital makes sure to feed me everyday.”

“I don’t have to but I want to.”

“I’m sure no one’s suspicious of us being a sham couple. You’re always nice to me and it seems genuine so you’re free to go.”

“Y/N,” Leon begins. “I’m not doing this for the mission. I’m pretty sure praying for you isn’t required by the D.S.O. Before you begin to tell me that I’m being nice for the record, Y/N, I’ve never prayed for anyone to wake up from a coma. You’re the first.”

“Does that mean you love me, Leon?” you ask. You lock stares with him, determined to not let Leon leave your room for the night without getting a direct answer from him.

“Y/N. If you stared any longer and fiercer into my eyes a long time ago, I would’ve crumbled then and there and told you that I have always loved you. All this started from a deception but it led me to the most honest feeling I’ve ever felt so yes, I do love you.”

Silence befalls the both of you in the room, save for the soft beeping of the machines in the same room as you two are in. Amidst the silence, you two come to a wordless understanding that you two are in love and have been in love for a long time. A delicate smile points the tips of your lips upwards before a soft laugh leaves you, genuinely ecstatic that your feelings have been returned and he fiercely feels the same as you do. He follows suit, smiling and chuckling as he takes your hand into his and kisses the back of your knuckles, nuzzling into your open palm as you gently rub your thumb back and forth on his stubbly cheek.

“In a few years time, we’re going to replace these ones with actual rings,” you say to Leon to which he nods, silently basking in your beauty and in the joy that there’s a future ahead for him with you. A nurse knocks at the door, informing Leon that visitation hours end in a minute and he has to go soon.

“Well, looks like I gotta go,” he quietly says though you know he doesn’t want to go just yet and frankly, you don’t want him to go just yet.

“You’ve only got a minute left before you do leave, just wait it out,” you urge him.

Sighing but not out of displeasure, he sits back down and leans near you to bask in your presence before he heads back into his lonely apartment. An entire minute passes by and Leon begins to get up but not before you sit up, reach for the sleeve of another one of his many jackets, pull him down to your level, and place a hungry yet velvety kiss on his lips. His eyes are widened before he shuts them, his free hand traveling to the base of your head and gently drawing your face nearer to deepen his kiss. A nurse walks in again, telling Leon to leave since his visiting hours are over but neither of you are too stubborn to pull away and break the kiss just yet. Your hands finds a portion of Leon’s jacket draped loosely over his shoulders and lifts it up, shielding both your faces as you feel a smile widen on Leon’s lips fitted against yours. You two are definitely giving the nurses a new reason to gush and giggle every time they are going to see either of you. As for you alone, you’ll have some explaining to do to the doctor checking your vitals for the irregularities in your heart rate.

NOTE - I didn't proofread this so if you spotted errors then I'm rlly sorry because I'm lazy (💀). This fic is a lot longer than my other drops lately so I hope we're all okay w that!!! I've got like 2 requests in my Inbox so to my anons who are waiting, it might take a while but I'm def going to work on them and post something for you <3 Happy Pride Month to my queer readers and queer mutuals, you deserve to be seen, heard, celebrated, and appreciated!!! Support your queer friend or someone you know who is queer by doing something for them or getting them a food item that they like, make them feel extra special this month yk :3 Anyways, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!! I <3333333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The wavy divider was made by @roseraris , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[formulawolff]

xii. the final verdict - t.w.

pairing: female!driver x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smutttttt, two idiots in love, YEARNING, LOTS OF YEARNING, lewis being a little shit, george is lowkey dumb sometimes, slightttttt use of daddy dom!kink, cursing, angst, poorly translated german, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

night falls over the track, swathing it with a blanket of darkness. yet, three shadows make their way towards a crisp white building, a comfortable silence settling in. one of the figures carries a woman in his arms, her head nestled in his shoulder. 

“how are you able to carry her like that?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“it’s not like she’s very heavy, george,” toto shrugs, motioning his head towards the door, “lewis, get the door for me, will you? it should be unlocked.”

“she leaves it unlocked?” lewis raises a brow, “that’s not very safe.”

“she usually leaves it unlocked this time of night,” toto huffs, “she probably did it out of habit.”

“is this the time you usually come over?” george inquires, propping the door open. 

“so many questions,” toto shakes his head, “and quiet down, will you?”

“yeah george,” lewis sticks a tongue out at his teammate, “the wittle baby is sweeping!” 

“she’s not a baby,” toto growls, strolling down that familiar hallway, “stay here for a minute. i’m going to get her in bed.”

“aye, aye, captain,” lewis salutes the team principal, “we’ll stay right here.”

as the team principal disappears behind her bedroom door, lewis shifts, turning to george, “george. he’s not falling in love. he loves that girl.”

“as if that wasn’t already obvious the second he scooped her up into his arms,” folding his arms across his chest, george surveyed the space, taking in the minimal decor and plain furniture, “no wonder she wants him over all the time. if i was basically living in a space like this, i would lose my mind.”

“should we help her decorate it?” lewis pauses, crossing over to the kitchenette. opening a few of the cupboards, a frown forms, “she doesn’t even have very many snacks. so much for making this a comfortable space. it’s not very homey.” 

“that’s what i was saying,” george mutters, “we should mention something to toto. maybe he’ll take her shopping.”

“maybe it’s a racing strategy? like she needs a blank space to clear her mind?” lewis inspects the fridge, lip curling in disgust, “to make things worse, she likes red bull!” 

“oh god,” george shudders, “throw it out! throw it–”

“what the fuck do you think you two are doing?”

the drivers freeze as toto stands before them, eyes narrowed into mere slits, the toe of his foot tapping against the floor. lewis glances over at george, the drivers sharing a panicked look as he clears his throat. 

“umm nothing!”

“right,” toto clicks his tongue, strolling towards the couch. he sits, letting out a shaky sigh as his head rolls back, fingers massaging his temples, “don’t worry. she has a shipment coming in soon with some decor. i ordered some things for the place. like you both said, i think she needs to make this a little more cozy.”

“you heard all of that?” lewis shifts uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“i heard everything,” toto tsks, “i think she’s okay. thank you both, for your help tonight. however, you do realize that she is a grown woman, right? you don’t have to play babysitter for me.”

“i was just a bit worried about you know?” lewis fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt, “i know she’s a grown adult, but i was just a bit nervous of what could have happened if she got too fucked up and said something she shouldn’t have.”

hmmm. lewis did have a point there. 

“i just wanted to make sure she got home safely,” george’s voice is low, “if she’s going to be my future teammate, i want to make sure she’s taking care of herself.”

at george’s statement, toto feels a smile form on his lips, “how kind of you, george. i appreciate that.”

“do you think she’ll sign with mercedes?” 

the inquiry is one that had been on toto’s mind frequently, more and more apparent as they got closer and closer to miami. now, it was all over. the lights on the track were shut off, the cleanup crew was well past finished, and the stands were completely empty. 

and toto needed an answer.

well, not now. not in her current state. 

he would have to wait until morning, when her mind was clear and senses alert. 

as of now, toto was only about seventy-five percent sure she would say yes. that she would depart from williams, take his hand, and follow him to mercedes. 

that twenty-five percent is what worried him. 

with the current momentum of williams, and the relationships she had established with the team, he knew it would be hard to leave. it would be hard to say goodbye to james, the one who believed in her, bringing her in when the other teams said no. it would be even more difficult to leave alex, as he was well aware of their sibling-like friendship. 

but the heart wants what it wants. right?

surely she would pick him. 

surely. 

“i’m not sure,” toto murmurs, running a hand through his hair, “she has a lot of emotional attachment to williams.”

“but she loves you.” 

she loves you. 

at those words, a warm, cozy sensation rippled in his heart, sending waves of bliss crashing all over. yet, there was a twinge of disbelief. 

there was no way a woman like her loved a man like him.

a recently divorced father, who happened to be one of the busiest men on earth. he was constantly on the go. he was emotionally available at times, his exterior cold and brittle, like ice. he was too cruel. too matter-of-fact. the travel would be too much for her. she hated traveling, anyway. the jet lag, the sleepless flights, the perpetual feeling of not having a place to call home. 

yet, toto ached to know. to know when she said it. how she said it. the expression she bore as those words tumbled from those perfect lips. the way her voice sounded. he wanted to know every miniscule detail. 

he needed to know. 

“when did she say that?” 

“while we were waiting for the uber,” lewis’ eyes shine, glimmering with joy, “it was quite cute, actually. we were making fun of you, not really making fun, more like teasing. she got so defensive, telling us to quit it because she loved you. she said to not make fun of the man she loved.” 

“she was very adamant about it too,” george adds, his chuckle ringing through the space, “we asked her if she loved you, and she said ‘well of course i do. i love him. don’t tell him i said that, though.’”

“and you guys told me?” 

“i didn’t mean to,” lewis admits, “you just seem really distraught about the whole thing so i figured i would try to help ease your stress.”

well, that did the trick.

fighting a yawn, the team principal covers his mouth, “we can talk about it more tomorrow, after i come back. i’ll keep you two in the loop. don’t expect every detail, though.”

“i don’t think i want every detail,” george teases, yawning, “okay lew, i think it’s time for us to go. carmen is waiting on me.”

“have fun! don’t break your hips from–”

“lewis.” george hisses, “let’s go.”

“okay,” lewis rolls his eyes, “see you, toto.”

as the two drivers exit the motorhome, the door clicking shut, the team principal clambers to his feet. fuck, today was completely and utterly exhausting. yet, he could finally hold you in his arms. he could finally just be with you. 

that alone was worth the trouble brought by the series of events that transpired this evening. 

pushing open the door, toto melts at the sight of you. 

you were lying on your hip, one pillow underneath your head while you held onto the other. your knee was bent, the other leg sticking straight out. in the dim light he can make out the glisten of drool, strands of hair tousled, messy and unkempt. 

yet, you were as breathtaking as ever. 

luckily, toto was able to get your clothes off of you with ease. it wasn’t the method he preferred, but he was grateful to be able to do those little things. he was more than willing to do anything you needed. all you had to do was bat those pretty little lashes and pout. 

that was his weakness. 

and you knew it too.

well, you were his weakness. 

as he settles on the edge of the bed, pulling his joggers off, he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. 

did you know much he adored you? did he make that clear enough? were you aware of how completely and utterly weak you made him? 

“hi baby,” you mumble, your eyes still shut, “i missed you.”

baby. 

oh god. 

what were you doing to him?

“hallo, miene liebe,” toto whispers, “wie fühlst du dich?”

“schlecht.” 

his heart swells at your response, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “so you have picked up on a thing or two.”

“come here,” you whine, shifting your body towards the middle of the bed, “you’ve been yapping with lewis and george all nighttttt.”

“did you hear any of that conversation?” momentarily, panic sets in, yet dissolves as you shake your head. 

“i just woke up. i figured you were talking to them. i heard the front door shut.”

“ah,” toto climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around your frame, bringing you close, “were they being loud?”

“no,” your voice is thick with sleep as you nestle into his collarbone, “thank you for coming and getting me, toto.”

“of course,” his mouth connects with your temple, placing tender kisses all over, “i’ll always come get you. call me, and i’ll be there.”

“promise?”

“i promise,” taking your hand, he locks your pinkies together, “i pinky promise.”

“i didn’t know old people made pinky promises.”

“it’s your fault,” toto tuts, yet you can feel him smile against your skin, “you make a mess out of me, you know that? every time you’re near me, i’m just a mess. i can’t think straight. i can’t focus on anything other than you.”

“well, you’re gonna be a complete and total mess all the time then.”

“and why’s that?” he squeezes your hand gently, resting his chin on the crown of your head. 

“because i’m accepting your offer. i’m going to sign with mercedes.”

in that moment, toto wolff nearly crumbles completely.

although there’s a fiery sureness in your tone, brimmed with authenticity, he knows in his heart that he shouldn’t be so sure. 

yet, as you doze off in his embrace, he can’t shake the complete and utter bliss. 

after one last kiss, his mouth hovers by your ear, the words so gentle, bursting with an emotion that could only be described as one thing. 

“ich liebe dich, mein goldenes mädchen." 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a fiery pain sears through your skull as you stir, groaning. 

“fuck.”

“good morning, my little lightweight,” a voice, his voice, an octave lower than normal, rumbles from behind, “do you need some water and tylenol?”

rolling over, you bury your head into his chest, grateful for the traces of cologne clinging to his shirt, “yes.”

“how many? i can order breakfast too.”

“i wouldn’t go that far yet,” the idea of food has you nauseous for a moment, “i think snuggles would be just fine.”

throwing your leg over his waist, your arm hangs loosely around his rib-cage as he lets out a laugh, “i can’t help you feel better if you’re on top of me, schatzi. you have to let me get up.”

“five more minutes.”

“as you wish, my golden girl,” a hand wraps around the base of your neck, his fingers kneading into your skin, “it’s only six thirty-four. you only slept for about three hours.”

“not like i can sleep in,” you exhale, grateful for the soothing gesture, “i have to meet with my parents in a couple of hours.”

“oh yeah? fun day ahead?”

“i guess,” you shrug, “as much as i love spending time with them, i just get so fucking sad thinking about the inevitable goodbyes. we probably won’t be able to see each other till our summer break.”

if you signed with mercedes, i would have your parents moved to brackley in an instant. you would never have to worry about those goodbyes for the rest of your life. 

yet, toto bites his tongue, “then how about you start getting ready, hmm?”

“because there’s a very attractive man in my bed with me and i don’t want him to leave me quite yet.”

you would never have to worry about that. ever. i could never leave your side. 

“is that so?” fingers grasp your chin, tilting it upward, “do i know him?”

“mhmm,” you hum, “his name is toto. toto wolff. you may know him, i’m not sure though.”

“i think so too,” he leans in, mouth ghosting over yours, “come here, baby.”

as your lips collide, your hands roam, tangling in his brunette locks. the kiss is passionate, laced with desperation, as if you were reuniting after months spent apart. it sucks the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless as his tongue finds yours, teeth nearly gnashing together as the tension builds, the kisses growing more and more needy by the second.

every move is electric, sending a shiver down your spine as his mouth detaches from yours, down your jawline and on to your neck. he nips the heated skin, sucking lightly as your head rolls back, hips bucking forward. 

between your thighs, you feel his cock twitch, throbbing as you grind against it. 

“fuck.” he moans, jaw clenching as your hand glides along the waistband of his boxers, “you just can’t wait, can you?”

“no daddy,” the innocence notes, so pure, so sweet, drip in his ears, “i can’t wait. i need you to fuck me.”

oh fuck. 

he was going to ruin you. 

absolutely ruin you. 

“take these off,” fingers hook the band of your panties, “the shirt too. and bend over.”

your cheeks burn at the authority in his tone. fuck, you couldn’t get enough of this. of him. since brackley, you were craving a moment like this. a moment where the two of you could just lose all inhibitions, completely enamored with one another. 

sliding his boxers down his legs, toto kicks them to the floor. raising his arms, he peels off his shirt, tossing it. yet, as his attention shifts back to the bed, he nearly unravels right there.

your back is arched, your ass jiggling as you situate yourself on the bed, getting more comfortable. as he can’t help but stare, his heart flutters as he takes in the way your body flows. how your shoulders, toned and defined, ripple as his fingertips roam. how the curve of your ass sits perfectly below your waist. how your pussy looks from this angle, dripping as you anticipate his next move. 

fuck, this must be a dream. 

it had to be a dream. 

“you’re perfect,” toto murmurs, dropping to his knees, “absolutely perfect, my love.”

“my lo–” you begin, yet the words never leave your mouth.

his tongue finds your swollen clit, savoring the way the juices seep onto his tongue. hands spread your cheeks, granting him access to your weeping pussy. pleasure washes over you, your moans flooding the space, reverberating off the walls. 

however, that pleasure quickly fades as he pulls away, a whine rising in your throat. 

“toto.”

“what?” his voice is low as he taunts you, “what do you want, schatzi? tell me, what do you need?”

“i need you,” you whimper, wiggling your hips, “please, i need you.”

“and what do you need me to do?” his hands grip your ass, squeezing, “i won’t give it to you till i hear you say it.”

“i need you to fuck me.”

“braves mädchen,” the praise rolls off of his tongue, and for a moment, he’s guilty at how easy it is giving it to you, “good girl.”

licking his lips, toto relishes the lingering taste as spit accumulates in his mouth, falling onto his fingers. his hand glides along his cock, wetting it. 

the moment his tip pushes inside of you, your walls expanding, back arching instinctively, he loses it. 

as he pounds into your drenched pussy, you grip the sheets, knuckles turning white as a hand weaves into your hair, tugging on the roots, “do you have any idea how much i’ve missed you baby?”

“i-i’ve missed you too,” you grit your teeth as his tip brushes against your g-spot, the pleasure absolutely overwhelming, clouding your senses, “i’ve missed this so much, toto.”

“what is it that you called me last night?” 

oh fuck. 

he remembered. 

“i called you daddy.”

“that’s right,” he coos, the noises filling the room downright sinful as he plowed into you, hips slapping against your ass, “good girl. lewis and george heard your entire conversation with me, you know that?”

oh god. oh fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“but you know what? i don’t give a fuck what they heard. you’re mine, schatzi. all mine.”

with every thrust, stars burst in your field of vision, the pressure growing in your abdomen. the fabric of the sheet balled up in your hands as you held on, desperate for your climax. 

toto could sense that you were close with the ways your walls were squeezing his cock. the way your muscles strain, tensing up. the way your voice was practically crying out his name as he fucked you senseless. 

fuck, was he crumbling now, the control slipping away by the second. 

“i-i’m going to cum,” fuck, were you so pretty like this, exactly where he wanted you, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, “toto, you’re going to make me cum.”

“let go baby,” maintaining his pace, toto leans down, lips planting sloppy kisses all over your shoulders, down your back, “cum for me. you can let go. be a good girl and cum for me.”

the feeling that overcomes you is nothing like you had ever felt before. 

it’s euphoria, pure euphoria. 

seconds later, you feel him pull out, coating your back with his cum. collapsing into the bed, your chest heaves, inner thighs spasming. 

toto disappears momentarily, slipping into your bathroom. moments later, warmth envelops your back as he cleans you up, murmuring praises under his breath. they were in german, your heart swelling as he’s beside you once again, hands gliding along your body, savoring the way you feel against him. 

“what?” 

“nothing,” you melt as his gaze meets yours, “just you.”

in that moment, you swear you see stars shining in those mocha depths. you notice another emotion glinting, but you are unsure of what it could be.

well, you have an idea.

but you're far too nervous to ask.

“what about me?”

“you’re just beautiful,” he murmurs, “my beautiful girl.”

“about that,” you scoot closer, your head resting in the crook of his neck, “what are we?”

his chest vibrates as he speaks, “what do you want us to be?” 

“i want to be yours,” you whisper, so quiet that you were unsure if he even heard you, “as in i want to be your girlfriend. i want to wake up next to you every day. i want to come home to you every night. more than anything, your face is the first one i want to see after a race. i want to hold your hand as we walk to the podium. i want to be able to love you. i can’t do this anymore. i can’t just lie and act nonchalant. i want you, toto. i want you every day. every hour. every minute. every second.” 

toto finds himself at a loss for words, blood roaring in his ears as she sucks in a breath, her voice trembling, laced with the threat of tears. 

yet, they weren’t tears of sadness. it was more like a cathartic release, like she was finally confessing her deepest, well-kept secret. like she was finally allowing the walls guarding her heart to come crumbling down.

“i’m accepting your offer. i want to drive for mercedes. however, i can’t wait any longer. i can’t be away from you any longer than i have to. i want to start driving for mercedes as soon as possible.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[wososcripts]

Face to Face (III)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader; Alexia Putellas x reader (platonic); Barça x reader (platonic)

Summary: your Barça teammates swoop in to save the day (or at least they do their best)

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: okay don't kill me but Frido isn't in this much... enjoy some sweet Barça hurt/comfort to make up for it because she'll be back soon. as usual everything is pure fiction and written in good fun! PREVIOUS PART

Warnings ⚠️: medical description, slight angst

"Hola Nena," Alexia said in a hushed voice as she came into your hospital room. Laura and Zećira had left earlier that morning with your mom, assuring you they would be back later in the evening.

Alexia had a stuffed giraffe and a small bouquet of yellow roses in hand, and she looked at you with soft eyes. You smiled at her weakly, the light in the room dim enough that the subtleties in her face were blurred. If you focused too much on them your head began to hurt more intensely.

"¿Cómo estás?"

You gave her a thumbs up, pleased with the smile you got out of her.

It was quickly replaced again with concern as you winced, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes as she set a vase down on the windowsill for the flowers.

"Has anyone else been over to visit?"

You knew it was Alexia's subtle way of asking if Frido had come. As far as you knew Alexia was in the dark as to your relationship (or lack thereof) with the Swede, but you could never be sure with her.

"Laura… Zećira and Magda came right after the game."

Alexia nodded. She took the giraffe and placed it on your chest, shaking it a bit as if you were a child she wanted to entice.

"You know you'll be out of training for a bit, sí?"

"Sí."

You weren't pleased with it, but there was no denying that you needed the rest. You could barely bear to open the blinds for now.

"Jona agrees, you should stay with someone when you get home. A few of the girls have spare rooms, so there's options. Ingrid and Mapí offered, and of course you can stay with me if you want."

You thought for a moment, letting Alexia's fast Spanish sink in. Your brain felt sluggish, as if everything took thirty seconds longer.

"If you don't mind… maybe I can stay with you?"

Alexia put a hand over yours, smiling brightly.

"Of course. I'd be happy to have you."

You chuckled.

"I'm not sure I'll be much fun for the next few weeks."

Alexia shrugged.

"It doesn't matter to me, we all take you how you are."

A comfortable silence fell over the room, and you began drifting off. Alexia promised to stay while you slept, her hand protectively on your calf as she studied up for the next Barça game.

Cómo está la alemana? Alexia saw her phone light up with a text from Mapí. She quickly snapped a photo of you asleep, frowning at your coloring and the wires that monitored your heartbeat. It was just a precaution, but it reminded one of how much worse this could've been.

Sleeping. She replied, attaching the photo.

Her head? Mapí replied immediately.

Not good, but not horrible. No training for a few weeks. Doctor said it was a serious concussion, but not severe.

Alexia watched as the three dots indicating Mapí was texting popped up, then disappeared, repeating a few times. Finally, just the message.

I'm glad she's okay.

Alexia knew there was much more weight behind that text than met the eye. You were vital to Barça—every player was, of course. But you had a kindness in you that helped glue the team together even when things were falling apart. Everyone was fond of you, and those you seemed to have chosen on the team (Mapí included) as your close friends cherished that. It was as if you had shone a light on them just by being around.

Alexia thought just of how much your Spanish had improved in the past few months. You spoke better Spanish than most of the international players—and it wasn't just because you had some kind of propensity for language. Alexia had seen you studying in your free time, listening to podcasts, practicing. She asked you once, why you did that; you replied that you simply wanted to understand them better.

That was how you were, thoughtful and kind and lovable. And it hurt everyone on the team to see you hurt—particularly because there was an added element of complexity with it having been Frido who caused it.

"Alexia?" Your groggy voice called out, "can you hand me my cup of water, please?"

"Of course, Nena."

Alexia watched as you drank slowly, and sat by as a nurse came in to examine you. She checked your pupils again, and didn't look pleased.

"I'm going to ask the doctor to order another round of scans, just to double check that no bleeds have popped up that we didn't see before."

"Why?" Alexia asked, concerned. She didn't feel equipped to deal with this totally on her own, especially with the doctor speaking English so quickly, with seemingly no time to explain or guide her through things.

"They're worried I've got a bleed in my brain because of how I fell, Ale." You explained to her.

"I thought they already checked that?" Alexia replied, trying to keep her Spanish slow enough for you to easily understand.

"Sometimes things can only show up on the scans after a little while, because they start so small. I hurt my head when I was younger in a similar area, so they're being extra careful."

Alexia rubbed her temples, worry increasing massively. She turned to the doctor.

"Will she be able to come home, still?"

"If the scans come out clean, then yes. She can be taken back to Spain." The nurse looked to you and asked in German, "you have a doctor there, yes?"

You nodded.

"She will need to be checked again in a little while, and monitored. Does she live with anyone?"

"She'll be living with me." Alexia assured the nurse.

A little while later, the doctor came in and wheeled you off to the CT scan. Alexia was not allowed to accompany you, so she stayed behind, waiting for you in that empty room. Suddenly it truly hit her how serious things could've been. There hadn't been more than a few bruises on you, so it wasn't as easy to understand how hurt you were. ACL, meniscus, these were things Alexia knew. Head injuries? Those certainly felt more daunting.

"María?" Alexia spoke into the phone.

"Alexia? Is everything okay?"

Alexia bit her lip, wishing she could keep herself in check a little more.

"Alexia?" Mapí repeated.

"Yes, sorry, yes I think so. They took her for more scans and it just… I don't know, it hit me."

Alexia heard Mapí speaking to someone in the background.

"Is someone with you?"

"Sí, Ingrid is here, and Pina and Patri are over for a movie. But I stepped out, so talk."

"The doctors were talking about brain bleeds and surgery, and I just couldn't handle it. She was so calm and I felt like I was freaking out…"

"Brain bleeds?" Mapí exclaimed, fear in her voice. Alexia heard something in the background. "Does she need surgery?"

"They don't know if she has one yet. The first scan was clear but apparently they can take a while to be visible."

"Dios mio… one moment, Ale, Ingrid is demanding I tell her what you're saying."

Alexia listened in to the faint mumblings from the other line, looking at the floor. There were raised voices and then a few more joined in, and Mapí returned.

"You're on speaker now, Ale."

"She has a brain bleed?" Ingrid’s voice appeared, a mix of anger and concern evident.

"No, no, they don't know yet. They're checking."

"Is she talking? Does she seem okay?" Patri interjected.

"Sí, she was talking fine. Her head hurts, of course. She can't handle much light, or focus very well yet." Alexia paused. "I don't know if she seems okay, but she'll recover."

The muttering on the other end picked up again, this time more audible. The girls were worried, of course.

"Why the hell did Frido hit her so hard!" Patri exclaimed, then it sounded as if someone had lightly smacked her. But nobody seemed to have a good answer.

Alexia explained what more she could from what the doctors and Laura had told her about your condition, and promised to update them again later. Ingrid promised to keep the other girls in the loop so they wouldn’t bother Alexia, which she appreciated. Everything felt overwhelming enough as it was.

Eventually Alexia hung up once she heard your voice from outside of the door.

“Brain bleed free, Ale!” you smiled as the nurse wheeled you back into the room. You had the stuffed giraffe she gave you clenched in your hand, and you waved it at her as you spoke for emphasis.

“Yep, the scans look perfectly normal.” The nurse affirmed. “Now let’s not try our luck for a third time.”

You saluted her as she left the room, falling quiet soon after. Alexia could see that you were still low on energy.

“Why don’t you rest a little more? I’ll deal with the paperwork in the meantime. Then we can get you home.”

-

Olga had made up your room already when you arrived back in Barcelona. She greeted you and Alexia at the door, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend's lips and pulling you in for a soft hug.

"¿Cómo estás, linda?"

"Okay," you gave her a small smile.

"You're my baby for the week," Olga said, taking your arm out of Alexia's hold and instructing her to take your bags into the guest room.

You chuckled as Alexia rolled her eyes playfully and followed orders.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

You nodded, feeling like you could be honest with Olga.

“My ears won't stop ringing… it's driving me nuts.”

"Why don't you go and lay down on the couch for a bit? I'll make dinner in a little while."

After changing into a borrowed shirt and sweats you settled with your head in Alexia's lap. She was stroking your hair very gently, trying to do what she could to make you feel better. Once you were asleep she looked to Olga.

"How are you, mi amor?"

Alexia rubbed her eyes.

"Tired."

"You've had a few very difficult days… she'll be okay."

Olga looked at your sleeping form.

"I'm not sure how to approach it at practice next week." Alexia fell quiet, "I can't help but feel upset at Frido, because I don't understand. If she had looked worried, gone to visit, something, then it wouldn't seem so bad. But she just got up and ran away, didn't seem to care at all. It's so unlike her."

"You let her know that behavior isn't acceptable, yes?" Alexia nodded, "then that's all you can do. And keep an eye on her."

-

You walked out onto the training pitch carefully, a pair of sunglasses covering half of your face and a cap on your head. Alexia held your elbow, keeping you close. You were already shorter than much of the team but you somehow looked even smaller tucked into yourself like that. Hardly anyone had seen you since you got home because of Alexia's insistence that you rest; only Patri had managed to convince Alexia to let her come over, and that was because she was one of your best friends on the team and you were dying of boredom.

Frido hadn't seen you, or heard from you since the friendly. She hadn't been allowed in your hospital room when they kept you overnight for observation, nor had she tried to visit you as you stayed with Alexia. Part of her had been too afraid to ask her capitan if she could come over. And you weren't allowed any screens, so texting was a no-go.

Ingrid, Mapí, and Pina all came rushing towards you, slowing once they were near your pitiful form.

"How are you feeling, bebita?" Mapí asked softly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Like shit," you mumbled, giving her a grin.

"With the way your head bounced, it's a miracle it's still attached!" Pina joked in a whispered tone, prompting a smack on the arm from Alexia.

You chuckled, clearly not bothered.

Ingrid, who had been quiet until now, wrapped you in a soft hug. She was careful with your entire upper half though she didn't need to be. You returned her embrace, looping your arms over her shoulders.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She mumbled to you.

You nodded, patting her cheek as she pulled away.

After that Alexia declared that you were going to sit in the shade and were not to be bothered, a glance thrown specifically at Patri and Pina. The rest of the team nodded, giving you quick smiles and thumbs up. Frido continued to stand awkwardly on the side, not sure what the best thing to do was. Would you even want to talk to her? Probably not.

Alexia walked you over to the bench and gave you water and some ear plugs to quiet the noise of the field. Unfortunately you couldn't really do much, no reading or phones allowed. All you could really do was sleep, which you did not long after, lulled by the warm air and low sounds of your teammates playing.

You didn't wake up until about an hour later. You were hot in your light jacket, so you shucked it off and gently sat up. Your sunglasses made it so your head didn't hurt too badly. Caro noticed you were awake and waved at you. You waved back, sending her a smile.

Alexia had mentioned that everyone sent messages of well wishes, not only your Barça teammates but your German teammates, and even a few from the Swedish team. You couldn't use your phone to see them, but Alexia had read them to you one by one. It was a little overwhelming, the support. Even players you had only interacted with a few times had reached out to check in.

"Hola cari" Patri said, flopping herself down next to you. It was a water break, and you could see the team dispersing to grab their bottles from their bags.

"Hola, Patri."

"Here," Patri shifted so she was sitting up, and patted her lap for you to put your head in. "How do you feel? Is it okay if I talk in Spanish or is English better for your head?"

"How about German?" You joked, prompting a large smile from Patri.

"Hallo?" She said, her Spanish accent laughably thick. You patted her leg fondly.

"Spanish is okay. It doesn't hurt my head anymore than a different language."

Patri began to stroke your hair as the two of you caught up. You learned that she had fought hard to get you to stay with her even though she only had one bed (the couch was a perfectly fine alternative for her, she had tried to tell Alexia), and that she was going to the coast during the next break with her family. You told her about seeing your family in Germany before the match, and how big your niece had gotten. Before long, another presence joined you.

"Hi," Caro's soft voice called.

She crouched down in front of you two, giving a faint smile.

"Do you need anything? Did you bring anything to eat?"

You shook your head, and Caro disappeared for a moment. When she returned, there was a bag of crackers in her hand, and a banana.

"I also found this at the supermarket."

She pulled out a packet of cookies, a German brand that you loved as a kid.

"I remembered seeing them when I was playing at Wolfsburg all the time…I figured since you're from around there maybe you knew them?"

You took them from her and held her hand, squeezing it in thanks. It brought tears to your eyes.

"I loved these when I was little… thank you Caro."

Caro smiled at you, taking a seat on the grass across from you and eating quietly. The Norwegian wasn't much of a talker, but she showed her affection just by hanging around.

"Here," she offered some of her water, realizing you had run out.

You took the bottle hesitantly, but Caro was firm.

"Drink, it will help your head."

Soon it was time for everyone to get back on the pitch, and you were left alone again. You put on a podcast through your headphones, passing the time as best you could.

The podcast served mainly as background as you watched your teammates train. It was hot today, and you could see everyone having to work a little harder to keep up. Your eyes fell to Frido naturally, even though you wished it weren't the case. She was partnered with Aitana doing passing drills. Her form was near perfect, you were jealous of her impeccable footwork. She looked beautiful: her hair was done up in a bun, her legs were glowing in the sun, and the muscles in her arm rippled as she picked up her water bottle to get a quick drink. It was disappointing that you still wanted her, even after all of this. Maybe something was wrong with you.

Later, as you waited for Alexia to finish with some promo stuff, Ingrid wandered over to keep you company. Mapí must have been getting a little extra physio time since she had only just been cleared after her injury.

"Can I sit?" She asked you, gesturing to the spot where you sat on the field.

You nodded and smiled, pulling your headphones out.

"How are you feeling?"

You shrugged.

"It's not so bad now, just like a regular headache. They gave me some medication but I'd rather not…"

Ingrid rubbed your shoulder, pulling you a little closer to her.

"You gave us quite the scare."

"Don't tell me you watched the video." You shifted to look her in the eye. "I know it freaks you out, makes you paranoid."

Ingrid smoothed the crease between your eyebrows with her thumb.

"Don't worry about me. Now is the time for us all to fret over you."

You huffed and rolled your eyes, wincing as it hurt your head.

After chatting for a little while Ingrid began braiding your hair into the intricate patterns she had learned to do as a kid. She took care not to pull at your scalp too much, and the gentle motion of her fingers felt lovely on your head. You were more relaxed than you had been in months.

"Has Frido said anything to you?" Ingrid finally asked after a stretch of silence.

You raised your eyebrows, surprised at the question.

"No, we haven't spoken since before we went on international break."

Ingrid paused, but didn't press. You felt her desire to do so, however. You wondered if Frido had spoken to her at all.

[yngxing]

his songbird

contents!! yingxing x female reader. prone bone turned missionary. reader is shy :3 dirty talk. lots of teasing!!! sliight dacriphilia. edging. tummy bulge mmmm. petnames: angel, baobei, darling, good girl(?). you call him gege!! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა

my clit wrote this so this def sucks & not proofread & kinda selfship-coded . . ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა *runs away*

it's endearing, the way you tighten your hold on the silk sheets, buries the sweet face he's missed so badly into the feather-filled pillow, as if that'd help you to tone down the loud and obscene noises that escape your lungs.

"still so shy, hm?" he coos, slotting himself deeper into your aching cunt, "'s not like this is the first time we've done this, angel,"

too exhausted to form a coherent reply, a whine escapes your lips instead, giving yingxing all the answers he needs. the craftsman reads you like an open book. no matter how much you seldom admit to it, deep down you know that it's the truth—that he always knows what to do with you; the things you'd love to hear and feel, and all the right ways to turn you into putty for him with masterful ease.

such as right now; the way he brings one rough hand down from your breast to your hips, pressing down on the plush skin to stop you from squirming too much, pushing you into the edge and humming in satisfaction at each one of your adorable reaction. it fuels his ego to know that he's the only one who can mold and shape you into such a perfect doll for him to use and fold into any position he'd like.

"i can tell you're loving this. would you like me to go harder, baobei?"

from the mirth oozing from his words, you can already picture him wearing the cheekiest smirk that you so despise to see, waiting for any kind of response—which he's 100% sure will not be a comprehensible one.

"gege, i—please—nghh... i-if you do tha—haaah!" you cried out, hiccuping out little incoherent babbles and dragging your nails across the soaked sheets, seeking for any semblance of relief.

so predictable, he thinks. his lips curl further upward, grinning at your reaction, finding it difficult to resist teasing you further, "use your words, baobei, c'mon—or are you telling me that this is enough to break you?"

and as if to make it worse for you, yingxing rolls his hips up, pushing his pelvic bone flush against the swell of your butt until his leaky cockhead manage to kiss that soft spongy spot inside you, and your back arches alluringly in return, lips quivering in a struggle to keep your voice down—fearing the possibility of alerting the entire neighborhood of the debauched activities you two are engaged in.

your lover presses a series of chaste kisses on your shoulder blade like you are his revered goddess, seemingly unbothered by the sound of your wails and whines bouncing off the walls. if anything, he wants to show you off—after all, not everyone is lucky enough to have such precious songbird in their bed.

"still no answer, huh... need me to stop?" he queried, halting all movements as broad shoulders hunched down to loom over your smaller body, silver strands of hair cascading over your back—perhaps to purposely tickle the sensitive column of your neck, adding more stimulation and drawing out more of your sugary sweet voice he'd swallow like the wine he often shares with the quintet.

(your lover can be quite cruel sometimes.)

"g-gege!" you yelp, using the little energy you have left to find purchase in his arm and spoke between gasps, "no, nonono—don'... don't stop, gege, please... wan' you to go harder..."

(but he's never immune to your adorable pleas.)

he cannot help the chuckle that escapes his lungs, because finally, "that's my good girl—see, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" he croons, large hands finding purchase on your sides to maneuver you on your back, and you swore you felt his length twitches at the mere sight of you—mouth agape with a trail of drool running down the side of your mouth, tears clinging to your lashes and the apple of your cheeks, and—oh.

was that a little bump he's seeing on your tummy?

yingxing went silent for a few seconds, before he slowly—painfully so—slides his palm from down your torso, stopping atop your abdomen and pressing down on the slightly protruding flesh, successfully drawing out the most darling squeal out of your spit-slicked lips, followed by a subtle shudder of your body, "gege—! w-wait..."

the blacksmith pays you no mind as he begins moving again, battering your insides with renewed vigor, thrusting faster and shoving his girth deeper, relishing the sight of the bulge disappearing and reappearing with each jerk of his hips. you did beg for him for this, after all—he's just being a good husband and doing what his beloved wife wants him to do!

he gently cups your cheeks, admiring the cockdrunk look you have on your face before he shushes you with a light press of his lips against yours, "sshh, 's okay... cum for me, baobei—be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?" the teasing lilt in his voice falters into a guttural groan as your walls constrict and gushes around his girth and triggering his orgasm. seeing how hard you're clamping down on him, it's safe to assume that you're trying to milk him dry, knocking the cockiness off his face as he pant on top of you.

once the blacksmith regained his composure, he brings his thumb down, rubbing hearts over your throbbing nub as he stills himself, gazing down at your juices mixed with his milky seed drivelling down your thighs and webbing his pubes. it's a sight awfully lewd and he can't stop the little aww it pulls from his lungs.

(you look your best when he's laid his claim on you.)

"are you alright?" he asks, keeping a close eye on your trembling form before he slather your smaller frame with his warmth, the plane of muscles serving as a shield and a reminder that you're safe with him, that he is here to take care of you.

you nod, dewed lashes fluttering up to meet his, "k-kiss—w'nna kiss, gege, please...?"

and of course he'd comply—when you're asking so politely even in this fucked-out state, colliding his lips with yours to devour the cherry-flavored drool that mingles with his own, eliciting a rather juvenile wish from the old man's heart; to stay this close for as long as forever.

[hqbaby]

fourteen — kiss me again

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2k content. profanity, sexual content [elevator sex, fingering, oral f receiving]

Once the adrenaline of the last few minutes has dissipated, you and Sukuna find yourselves painfully awkward as you stand in the elevator, placing a respectful distance between the two of you.

“How—”

“Do—”

You both stop talking, looking at each other with nervous smiles. You laugh to try and ease the tension, but somehow it only makes it worse.

He nods at you, wringing his hands. “You go first.”

You look away. “Nothing,” you say. “I was just gonna ask how—”

The lights go out around you and the elevator comes to a sudden halt. You stumble at the unexpected stop, but Sukuna grabs you before you fall.

“Did it just—”

“—stop? Yeah,” you say, squinting your eyes as they adjust to the darkness. “The power’s been fluctuating recently and the elevator’s been doing this.”

You become acutely aware of the fact that you’re pressed flush against your best friend’s chest, so you right yourself and pull back, his reluctant arm loosening its grip on you.

“How long does it usually last?” he asks.

“Not more than ten minutes,” you tell him. The ache of your legs makes itself known and you sit on the floor. There’s no use standing while you wait. “Sorry about this.”

You can see him shake his head, your eyes adjusting to the dark. “It’s fine,” he says, carefully sitting down next to you. He’s still pointedly far away from you. Not too much to be strange, but enough to not touch you, even by accident. “I guess we wait.”

You hum. “I guess.”

The two of you sit on the floor of the tiny box, occasionally shifting to stretch your legs, to look at your hands. The tension is terribly apparent, but neither of you has the nerve to address it. Every time you look over at Sukuna, he looks away, and when he tries to look at you, you turn to your side.

This little song and dance goes on for a while until—

“Do you just wanna talk about the kiss?” he asks bluntly.

You let out a relieved groan. “Yes please,” you say, scooching closer to him. “So? What did you think?”

He snorts, peering at you as you come close enough to brush your shoulders against his. “Of the kiss?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Am I a good kisser? I’ve never really asked anyone that before because it’s pathetic, but I’ve been dying to know.”

“I dunno,” he says teasingly. “Pretty sure I carried the kiss.”

You punch his shoulder. “You did not.”

“Felt that way to me.”

“You’re such a loser,” you tell him. You grab his shoulder and shake him around a little. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

He plucks your hand off and interlaces it with his. A romantic gesture with anyone else, but a regular occurrence between the two of you. “You know, you’re a really annoying person.”

“Fuck you. You love me.”

His grip on your hand goes slack for a second as he looks away. You know that it’s dark right now and there’s really not much to see, but you spy the catch in his breath. You see the way he grows skittish as you tighten your hold on his hand. And there’s another thing, even more miniscule but incredibly obvious to you.

“Are you blushing?” you say loudly.

He pulls his hand away from yours and snarls at you. “What the fuck?”

“You are!” you say with a gasp. You point a finger at him, all childish and giddy. “You’re fucking—”

You’re cut off by his lips on yours. It’s harsher than last time. A stark contrast to the gentle nervousness of your last kiss. This time, it’s rough and wet and messy. And you hate to say it, but it’s incredibly hot.

You kiss him back, your hands going to his hair as he finds your hips, pulling you closer to him. You’re so caught up in the feverish haze of it all that it takes you a while to hear the voice screaming in the back of your head. What are you doing?

You press your hands to his chest and push him away. You blink at him in the dark, short breaths leaving your lips as you find him staring at you with an intensity you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

“Sukuna,” you say quietly. “Are you sure about this?”

His eyes flick over to your lips then back to your own eyes, staring at him all wide and uncertain. “I—I don’t—sorry,” he says. “Do you not—Do you not want to?”

There’s something so sweet about the way he stumbles over his words, his hold on your hips going from confidently sexy to horrifyingly self aware. He leans back with parted lips. It’s like he’s waiting for your rejection, waiting for you to turn him down.

You lift a hand to cup his cheek and you chuckle. “I want to,” you whisper, leaning closer until your eyelashes flutter against his. “I just… this is a lot for me.”

“I know, I know,” he reassures you. His hand rubs your hips in small soothing circles as he looks at you sheepishly. “This is a lot for me too.”

You close your eyes and brush your lips against his. “Kiss me again?”

You hear him laugh. “Anything for you, tiger.”

The kiss is tender this time. Closer to your first kiss, but with the assurance that this is something you both want. You melt against him, hands roaming through his hair, across his shoulders, over the plane of his chest. He touches you softly, letting his fingers linger on the small of your back, up your spine, behind your neck.

Kissing Sukuna is like breathing, catching a second wind again and again with every touch of your lips to his.

You move against him, rocking your hips gently, little waves touching the shore. His tongue slips out and brushes against the bottom of your lip, a silent request that you indulge. Your hands are on his neck now, playing the short strand of hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him ever so close to you.

His touch trails down your back and lands on your thighs, fingers lifting the fabric of your skirt to touch your burning skin. His hands rub your skin, every now and then getting close to the space between your thighs, but never touching, never giving you what you really want. He’s so careful, so sensitive to doing the right thing and as much as you want to applaud him for it, you can feel the heat growing in your core. The frustration beginning to inch through your bones,

You detach your mouth from his and ever so quietly, you ask, “‘Kuna, can you—can you touch me?”

His hands graze over the fabric of your panties. “Here?” he asks softly, slipping a finger over the wet fabric.

A moan escapes your lips at the sudden contact and you hold on tight to him. “Yes,” you say. “Please.”

“You don’t need to beg, tiger,” he tells you. He pushes the fabric to the side and runs his finger along the stripe of your cunt. “All you gotta do is ask.”

He moves his mouth back to kiss you as he slips a finger inside of you, swallowing your whimpers. “Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he says, more to himself than to you. He presses his thumb on your clit, forcing a squeal out of you as he drags his finger in and out, in and out. “Do you like that, tiger?”

You press your face into the crook of his neck, panting as he works between your legs. “More, ‘Kuna.”

“Greedy girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.”

He pulls his hand off of you and you jerk back in confusion at the sudden loss of contact. “What—”

He guides you backwards and makes you sit on your knees. You place your hands on the floor behind you to prop you up, raising a brow in confusion. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he ducks his head between your thighs, pushing your skirt up as he laps at your pussy.

“Oh shit,” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue sucks at your clit. Your hands fly to his hair and you pull, moaning when he slots a finger back inside you.

He pushes the digit deeper and curls it against a spot that sends you reeling. “Right there?” he asks, still intent on eating you out.

You keen with every move, with every brush of his finger against your walls, every kiss of his tongue on your throbbing clit. It’s too much, it’s not enough. The only thing on your mind is Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna.

“Are you close, tiger?” he asks. He slides a second finger into you and you moan, your hold on his hair only growing tighter. “You gonna come for me?”

You’re so caught up in your pleasure that the only thing you can do is nod and whimper. “‘Kuna, I’m so close,” you tell him. “Gonna come for you.”

“That’s my girl,” he says. He pulls his mouth off of you and replaces it with his thumb, rolling your clit beneath his finger as the other two continue to curl inside of you. He pressed his lips to the span of skin on your stomach where your shirt rides up. “Give me a kiss, tiger. Please.”

You open your eyes and groan at the sight of his cheek pressed to your stomach, looking at you with pleading eyes as his finger moves sinfully between your legs. You sit up, wincing as the movement sends his fingers diving deeper into you, and you grab his collar, pulling him closer to kiss you.

The kiss is more heated now, what with you getting closer and closer to your high, but it’s just as sweet. Just as gentle as earlier.

He moves his unoccupied hand to your neck, holding you close to him. “Come for me, tiger,” he sighs against your lips. “Want my girl to come for me.”

His words send you over the edge, a wanton moan tumbling out of your lips as you grab his collar, the only thing grounding you as your high descends on you, all intense and hot and positively electric.

Sukuna kisses you through your high, moving his hand from your neck to your back, fingers drawing up and down your spine.

When your orgasm fades, you pull your lips away from his and find him smiling at you. Not his usual teasing smirk, not his smug little grin, a smile of pure unadulterated joy.

“You good?” he asks, drawing his hands away from between your legs and letting them settle on your waist.

You giggle and nod. “I’m good.”

The two of you end up laughing, out of relief mostly but also a happiness that neither of you thought was possible. You settle on Sukuna’s lap, still facing him as he holds you to his chest, soaking in every bit of your presence, your touch, your everything.

“Thank fuck for broken elevators,” he muses aloud.

You chuckle. “Yeah,” you say, tilting your head to look at him. “Thanks for always showing up when I need you.”

He pecks your cheek, still smiling. “Anytime, tiger.”

You snuggle into him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you place your head on his shoulder. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel something poking at your ass—the something being his painfully hard dick.

“Is that…?” you ask, unmoving.

“Yup,” he says, voice a little strained.

“Do you want me to—”

“Nope.” Sukuna clears his throat. “Let’s, uh, wait to get to your apartment. Just ignore it.”

“It’s kinda hard to ignore.”

“Ignore it, tiger,” he says again, holding you tight so you don’t make any sudden moves. “It can—yeah, it can wait.”

You smile into his shoulder. “Whatever you say, ‘Kuna. Whatever you say.”

notes. this is for all the sukuna girlies 😩

[babeeangel]

pervy boyfriends

bllk boys who would –in my humble opinion– be pretty pervy towards their s/o. 

Shidou, Isagi, Karasu headcanons (low-key nsfw), i tried to be gender neutral but maybe it’s a bit more catered towards afab/fem reader for the Isagi part. 

ꕥ

Shidou:

Let’s stats by the most obvious of em all 

He is OPENLY and PROUDLY an OFFICIAL PERV

Let’s call it as it is

We haven't seen him talk about lovers canonly yet but i feel like he’d be a monster

This man is ALWAYS making dirty jokes to you

About you mostly 

Oh and public or not, he doesn't care, he if thought of something, you best believe he gon say it, regardless of whether your dad is around. 

He takes a sick pleasure in exposing your kinks to the whole word, especially ones you’ve told him you’re embarrassed about 

He likes it specifically when he says something in a public setting just loud enough so you will never know for sure if people heard him or not

Likes does his team’s goalkeeper know that you like being choked or not ?? You will never be sure ! (And it's not like you're gonna ask him) 

You never really heard it for yourself but you’re quite sure he talks about your sex life to his friends 

Cause multiple times they came up to you and made a joke that was suspiciously real 

“haha Y/N did you have a cat attack your boyfriend’s back ??” “Y/N can you help me out for next week’s anime convention ? I heard you’re quite good at cosplaying”

You even received a leash from a secret santa (you don't have a dog ???)

You’ve tried to ask him about it once, he jokingly said yes, so you never sure he actually meant it 

But you’re scared that if you ask too much he gon make it worse. 

Mind you Shidou is not just an asshole that crosses your boundaries. You had actually told him you were actually kinda into people low key knowing you’re a freak. But you could never say it yourself. So he’s actually nice and thoughtful to his s/o here. 

So yah let's say Shidou is not ashamed to explain to people what his position he likes you in

Also it’s almost obvious atp but he likes dirty talking in uncomfy places cause he knows it takes you very little to get you started, so he’s there getting you horny in the middle of applebees like… 

He likes telling you all the things he’d do to you once you're back home. 

He also often shares the details of how hard he was in the shower this morning thinking about you and how he chose to wait until you guys could do it cause he felt it would be a shame to waste his “precious cum” (his words) anywhere but “your pretty body” (again his words). 

So as I said, certified unashamed pervy boyfriend.

ꕥ

Isagi:

Now I think this would be an unpopular opinion because everyone and their dad headcanons Isagi as “a sweet caring innocent boyfriend 🥺” and while I agree that is true, he is multifaceted to me. 

To me, he would also be extremely pervy to his s/o, but unbeknownst to them. 

Like the minute you’re turning your back to him, he’s staring fouly at your ass

If you bend down to grab sum, he will not bother to look under your skirt that lifts up or your exposed cleavage. 

But again, he will only do it when he knows you can’t see him. 

He likes watching you doing the most innocent things and adding a double meaning to it in his head

Like you eating a skewer will be something far more dirty in his mind and you whining at the antiseptic on your wound is, in another setting, something way sexier. 

So everytime you see him smile at casual things you do, like getting on your knees to tie your shoelaces, you think wow he loves me so much, but truth is yes he loves you that much, actually way more. 

Isagi will always make the most far fetched double entendres to you, knowing damn well you’re too innocent and maybe head in the clouds to ever get it

So he says it, sees you agree mindlessly, and smiles to himself.

I’m telling you he’s an undercover perv.

Some of his dirty minded friends that have, they too, experience in that field, will sometimes get these double meanings he tells you and chuckle at his reaction to your non reaction. 

Unlike you, THEY know he’s toying with you and tbf they also find it quite cute

Isagi is not the type to put out all your sex life to his friends tho. But sometimes, just sometimes, he will (again) make innuendos about things you’re good at, like doing or like receiving.

But again, when he says it it's with a straight face. 

So his friends are never sure that he actually did mean what he said or if that innuendo was a pure coincidence. 

He just smiles smugly to himself

Also final addition: he knows your weak spots and he plays witit. 

Like he knows you're quite sensitive so he purposefully places the coffee grounds on the top shelf to see you struggle, have you jump around to see it jiggle, watch your shirt lift up and inevitably come to your help by grabbing said item from behind, basically squeezing you between him and the counter, pressing his dick into your ass, knowing damn well that’s enough to have you blush and moan.

But as always, you just think to yourself that he's so nice to help you, and you're so sensitive for reacting to a simple thing. 

ꕥ

Karasu:

let’s not forget about this pretty boy cause i feel we ALL know he can be so pervy…

To me, this boy is always, ALWAYS touching you 

He alwaysss has a hand on you like at all times TT

Saying hello ? Good morning kiss

He tries to find you in public ? When he sees you he’s gonna make himself known by laying a hand on your hip

He won a match ? You know already he’ll grab your ass when he finds you. 

He does not care about decency or whatever that social construct is: 

If he wants to feel you up, he will. 

Don’t care if his teammates are taunting him, if your friends are here, if a camera is filming

He likes the feeling of your skin on his, knowing you’re real cause he can feel it, feel the friction and the heat 

And he also likes knowing you’ll always be available for him, lending him a kiss whenever he asks for one

He should know by now you're never gonna say no, cause you love him so much, but he’s always looking to be reassured that you are his. 

So with Karasu, it does not stop at hand holding when you're going out

More like, hand holding, stroking your ass, kissing you passionately then placing his hand on your chin, smiling and walking again like normal until five meters further he wants to feel your waist. 

Mind you you tried to tell him this was not socially okay, being so explicit on PDA. His answer ?

Says who ? It’s not like people don't know where to be together. I dont think I'm breaking news to them that we get physical if I kiss you in public. 

“Babe, this is not about the kiss on my cheeks in public. I’m talking about you stretching my shirt collar to look at my cleavage while you’re on half time and a whole literal stadium is looking at you”. 

“What, you want to keep it a secret that I smack you ass naked when I win ?” “Well yeah that's kinda exactly what i'm saying” “Useless to bother hiding, they must know already” 

BUT THEY KNOW CAUSE HE WON’T STOP BEING SO HIGH KEY IN PUBLIC. 

So yeah when I say he’s a perv I mean he won’t bother to wait till behind closed doors. He will whisper in your hearts while grabbing your waist from behind no matter if you are in the middle of ordering coffee. 

At least you’re sue he loves you and won’t mind letting others know

ꕥ

A/N: yayyy this came up to me as i was falling asleep, Isagi staring relentlessly as your ass the second you turn around and then thought yeah he'd defo not be the only pervy bf in bllk. Hope u like it~~ still have many more things to write.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~

This is a lovely commission from a moon of mine. They wish to be anonymous, but I do have a brief description of the headcanons. I would like their reactions to finding out their s/o is self-harming, how they would try to help them day to day, and what new coping strategies they would suggest/get them to try. I'd like this with Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox. Romantic Lucifer, Alastor & Vox caring for Reader

TW: SELF-HARM MENTIONED, COPING SKILLS (These may not work for everyone), ANGST/FLUFF

Lucifer:

When Lucifer found you that day, he was devastated. You were so frail and small in his arms, and it hurt his soul.

He cleaned you up carefully and bandaged all your wounds. Holding you close to his chest, telling you how much you mean to him.

It was common knowledge to everyone how much he cared for you and how he compared you to the angels in heaven themselves.

He didn't leave your side for weeks, helping you through every emotion and thought that crossed your mind.

He was honestly a little overbearing, making you feel worse that he was dedicating his whole life to you.

When you brought this up with him, he calmed down on the clinginess but still routinely checked up on you.

He enlisted Charlie and Vaggie, two of the people he trusted most in the world next to you, to find better ways to help you avoid reverting to harm.

He took the learned material seriously and began helping you set up healthy routines again slowly.

He helped you with big tasks that felt way too much at the time while still giving you the independence you needed.

He made sure you two went on 'hot girl walks' once a day to help you get more vitamin D.

He conjured a whole gym area for you in the hotel after learning the endorphins in exercise would help.

If you ever had a dark day or a bad event, he would re-cling himself to you.

Even if you protested, he was right there, ready to go and assist you.

He told you daily how much he loved and cared for you and helped remind you how needed you are in this realm.

Alastor:

Alastor rarely felt broken in his human or demon life. Not often did anything shake him to his core.

The day he found you, though, near death and fading, he was a broken man indeed.

You were not allowed to leave his arms no matter how hard Charlie or other inhabitants asked him to let you be looked at by another.

He had years of wound care experience, so he took to cleaning and tending to you.

Was it mentioned that he was in complete demon form the whole time? Well, he was, and he was so angry at the world but so gentle with you.

He wasn't as clingy as Lucifer; instead, he was a silent observer, only coming when asked.

He refused to let you out of his sight, though, making sure that if you weren't physically with him, his shadow was nearby.

He basically destroyed your room by looking for anymore harmful objects. He made up for it, though, by getting you brand-new everything.

"A brand new you is refreshing, my love letting go of the bad.'

He helped you dye and cut your hair when you decided to go with the whole new me look.

He took your eating habits to heart and ensured you had three meals a day, all prepared by him.

Good nutrients would significantly improve your mental health and give you more energy and stamina.

Every morning, when he woke by your side, he would remind you, "You are never fully dressed without a smile, my love."

Vox:

Vox is a big baby on almost anything, especially when things don't go his way or play out how he expects them to.

He never expected to be serious and somber about anything detrimental until he found you that day.

He was terrified of losing you, and his immediate reaction was to hold you close and get you to a hospital.

Man has every tech device in Pentagram City, but he knew what you needed was far beyond his scammy gizmos and gadgets.

Once in the hospital, he was pacing the room, wearing a grove into the floor.

Once you were cleared and ready to go home, he asked you simple fundamental questions, ranging from a simple "why" to a more in-depth "How can I help you?"

He knew that when you answered in shrugs and 'I don't know,' he would have to do the grunt work to help his love.

He talked to doctor after doctor and scoured the web to find all the best remedies to help you.

He took up yoga with you, and right after yoga ended, he would sit with you in a warm bath and talk about what you thought.

When you fully started opening up to him about the dark thoughts clouding your brain, he was already prepared to help.

He helped you cleanse your social media and even recommended good, worthy shows to distract you from your thoughts.

Vox loved you more than life itself and couldn't imagine a world without you in it.

He made sure every day you knew that you would look in the mirror at him lovingly holding you and remind yourself of that, too.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I think a lot of people forget that Darkstalker was legitimately considering killing Clearsight after he figured out she stole his scroll. He thought to himself that maybe he won't have a queen by his side and then we cut to Clearsight's pov when she is making the bracelet with Fathom and she actually sees futures where Darkstalker kills her if her plan doesn't work. What makes it even worse when Darkstalker is twisting her wrist and asking where his scroll is, when Clearsight is able to slip the bracket on him and he is able to read Clearsight's mind for the first time in a long time she still loves him while he is seriously considering murdering her. Like hello why don't more people talk about this.

I also think people forget how much of a bastard Darkstalker was even in the beginning of the book. Like shortly after he met Fathom and Indigo he thought that Indigo was a threat and that he could kill the insta kill tail band thing he was wearing. The only reason why he didn't do it was because he thought a sad animus dragon with nothing to lose wouldn't exactly be the best thing for him or anyone else. Like I guess you could argue that's because Indigo threatened to kill him first but my gripe is that he's so sadistic when thinking about it he enjoys the idea of killing her way too much while Indigo is just traumatized from the entire Albatross situation and Darkstalker should have known because he can read minds and see the future but I guess not.

Also the fact that he doesn't really like it when Clearsight is with Listener, he never hangs out with them because and only joins with Clear after Listener leaves. Pretty sure this is because he doesn't like Listener for being suspicious of him. He also tries to read Clearsight's mind after she says she doesn't want him to do that by diverting her attention, even though she didn't fall for the disrespect for her boundaries and her feelings are still present even in the beginning.

Like I am not saying it would have been impossible for Darkstalker to actually realize that he is in the wrong and change his ways early on (and I only early on in the book my cut off point was when he enchanted Clearsight because that shit was just disgusting and actually unforgivable), but it would be difficult. And after he enchants Clearsight to not see the bad futures it would just be impossible because he starts seeing dragons as objects and becomes more dismissive of everyone else, also because that's the point where I think his actions become unforgivable.

So yeah Darkstalker is a dick and if for whatever reason I ever met him I am throwing hands, animus magic be damned.

.

[hanni-bae44]

Title: Secret Admirer (Mark)

Pairing- Mark x fem!reader

Genre- high school au, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count- 3.2k

Summary- You had a secret admirer who kept leaving notes in your locker. And thanks to all the clues he left behind, it didn’t take much to figure out that the culprit was your friend— Mark Lee— all along.

A/N- For the sake of the plot, this fic takes place in an American high school, you guys will see why as you guys read :) Anyway, have fun reading, love you all <3

-

Another love note. 

You stood before your locker dumbfounded. It had been two weeks of finding a note in your locker everyday. Sure it was flattering, but what if they were not your type? Or worse, a creep? Rejecting someone was just as hard as getting rejected. Okay, maybe not as hard, but it was still difficult. 

What if it was someone you knew?

A friend? 

So far all the clues you had about the secret admirer was that they were a boy, owned pink post-its, knew where your locker was, and in one of your classes. You also knew some irrelevant details of the secret admirer but it wouldn’t help you to crack down on the suspect, so you pushed it to a corner in your head. 

For the past week, you'd been observing everyone in your classes but you still couldn’t determine who the culprit was. There was no lingering stare or anything unusual that made you suspect anyone.

“Another one?” Chenle beamed, interrupting your train of thought. It was as if he came out of nowhere, making your heart drop from his loud voice. He pulled the note out of your hand as Mark stood beside. “So who do you think keeps leaving you these cryptic notes?”

“I have no idea.” You turned, leaning against your locker. “Part of me thinks it's a joke, maybe someone’s messing with me. Maybe it’s Haechan, he’s always messing with me.” Yeah, it had to be him. He was always the prankster. 

“Haechan messes with everyone, I doubt anyone would go this far just to mess with you,” Mark assured you. “The notes look genuine to me. Maybe they like you but they’re just shy.” 

“I guess.” Looking back at Mark, you felt deflated at the nonverbal rejection. A part of you hoped it was him but you supposed not. Mark didn’t seem too bothered that you had a secret admirer either. Any thought of him possibly reciprocating your feelings flew out the window. You refrained from frowning. 

“Hey Mark, read this,” Chenle nudged him with a grin, “Roses are red, violets are blue, I wish I could tell you how I feel, but for now I’ll just write my heart in this note with a seal,” Chenle read out loud in a teasing tone, “Isn’t that cheesy?”

Mark shrugged, pouting at the boy. “I think it’s romantic.” Then he looked at you. “Don’t you think so, Y/N?”

“It would be more romantic if I had a face to match the words too,” you droned. 

-

You checked your locker between every class. Some days the notes would show up early in the day while other times, it wouldn’t be there until your last period. 

Today, it was the latter.

B- Before I met you I didn’t know I could like someone so much. E-  Eager to express my feelings, a friend suggested I be your secret admirer.  A- Afraid of rejection, I started leaving notes for you.  U- Upon being near you, I can feel my heart beat.  T- The thing is, I never thought my feelings would progress this much.  I- I wonder what you think of me.  F- For now, I hope these notes are okay. I’ll tell you one day.  U- Usually, I’d just suck it up and say it, but you're special to me.  L- Liking you is too easy, saying it out loud is the hard part. 

Love, your secret admirer <3

Another acrostic poem, this time instead of your name, it was of an adjective. And instead of a post-it note, it was on a bigger piece of paper. You scanned the ink again and again, hoping for some clues that would reveal the culprit. But so far, nothing. 

“Whoever this dude is, he has game don’t you think?” Jaemin smirked as he stood beside you. He had been reading the note over your shoulder while breathing loudly at the same time. 

“If he actually had game, he would flirt with her right to her face and not hide behind a paper and pen,” Chenle insisted, taking the paper out of your hand to read himself. 

“It’s nice. I just wish I had a face to think off when I read it,” you sulked. “Am I that intimidating?” you asked your friends.

“Not particularly. You could ease up on that resting bitch face though." Jaemin said while shrugging. Chenle stifled a laugh while you scoffed. “Anyway, update me later on who the lover boy is, I gotta go,” Jaemin added quickly before jogging towards the direction of the buses with his other friends.

You supposed you should start walking to the buses too before you were stuck walking home. Chenle and you both began to move your feet.

“You still haven’t told Mark yet have you?” Chenle whispered as he nudged your side. 

“Don’t say his name,” you angrily mumbled, eyes scanning the crowd in the hallway. “People could be listening, and no I haven’t. If I tell him and he doesn’t feel the same, it’s going to be awkward, we’re literally in the same friend group.”

Chenle was the only one in your friend group that knew about your crush on Mark. You never wanted to tell anyone, especially Chenle since he was a blabbermouth but you were dumb. You left your diary at his house while doing homework together and he read all your private thoughts. Chenle could keep a promise but he also often spoke before thinking. The amount of times he accidentally spilled a surprise or a secret was too many to count. 

You stared solemnly at the concrete sidewalk ahead. 

Chenle snapped you out of your thoughts, placing a hand on your shoulder as encouragement. “Things only get awkward if you let it be. Plus, I doubt he’ll push you away if that’s why you’re hesitant to confess. You should tell him how you feel before it’s too late. The next thing you know we’ll all have graduated and he’s with someone else and you’ll be wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your life.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you scoffed. “Don’t you like that one girl in our first period? If you don’t tell her, you’ll be stuck wondering ‘what if’ for the rest of your life,” you repeated his wise words back to himself. 

“That’s different,” Chenle narrowed his eyes. 

“Not really,” you deadpanned. 

“Whatever. Don’t tell him then. He has girls lining up to confess. He has options. Can’t say the same for you though.” 

“You suck." You lightly smacked his arm.

-

I rewatched the Spiderman movies yesterday. (The ones with Tom Holland) And it made me wonder if Peter Parker hates watermelon as much as you do. I promise it’s so refreshing if you get past the texture. You’re just like a friend I know, he hates the texture of fruit too. Except it's only cute when you hate it :’)

Another note. 

You found it weird with why he randomly mentioned watermelon— a topic that came up in the cafeteria yesterday. This had to be someone within your proximity during lunch. You’ve only ever mentioned your distaste for that watermelon with your friends. Was it an eavesdropper? Or was it someone at the table? 

You weren’t sure, but at least that lowered the possible suspects down.

At lunch, you brought up the topic of movies but no one mentioned Spiderman. Your friends were all too fixated on some new video game to care. Frustrated that your effort became fruitless, you began to chug your chocolate milk before taking a bite of your burger.

“Why do you care so much about what movie everyone is watching anyway?” Mark asked from beside you as he took a bite of his sandwich. 

You took the folded note out of your pocket and showed Mark. “My secret admirer just watched the Spiderman movies. He also likes watermelon apparently,” you sighed, watching as Mark read the note.

“Oh.” Mark handed the paper back to you then fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Well, I’m sure when he’s ready to reveal himself, he’ll tell you.”

“That’s not reassuring,” you deadpanned. “I want to ask everyone here right now if they're my secret admirer but what if I confront them and they’re too shy so they say it’s not them and the notes stop? Then I’ll have to graduate without knowing who the admirer is. It’s driving me crazy, I just want to know who it is, hell, I might even like him back, this is all just so annoying.”

“Trust me, you’ll know before graduating,” Mark smiled weakly. 

“How are you so sure?”

“I just know."

-

The blue dress you wore yesterday looked so pretty on you. The colour brought out your eyes. I tried to tell you in person but the words didn’t come out. For now, I’ll just admire you on paper. I hope you have a good day today. 

You reread the note over and over again, then you notice it.

The spelling of ‘color’ was in UK English and not American English which your school taught. You didn’t know anyone from the United Kingdom at this school. Could it be someone from Australia? They used mostly UK spelling but you didn’t know anyone from there so no. Could it be someone Canadian then? Canadians used a hybrid of American and UK English spelling to your knowledge so it was definitely plausible.

Come to think of it, some of your past notes had common words spelled differently from what you were used to too. You initially thought it was the cursive-like writing but then it hit you, it wasn’t misspelling it all, it was just the way Canadians spelled certain words. 

“The secret admirer has to be Canadian don’t you think?” you asked Jaemin, leaning against your locker with your arms folded over your chest.

“It makes sense.” Jaemin reread the note again. “Well we know Jacob Bae, Keeho Yoon, Mark Lee. Kevin Moon. Who else?”

Could it be Jacob Bae? That didn’t make any sense since though you weren’t close to him at all. He also had the second lunch break. There was no way he could’ve known about your dislike for watermelon.

Keeho also had second lunch.

It couldn’t be Mark though right? He sat near you during lunch but there was no way he liked you back.

Maybe it was Kevin Moon?

You had Kevin in your musical theater class but you rarely talked to him. He was also close with your friends and sat at your lunch table. But could he really be the secret admirer? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look at you or care enough to start a conversation. He wasn’t a shy dude either, he just had tunnel vision, only talking with the people he was close with. 

“Maybe it’s Kevin,” you confided to Jaemin. It had to be. If not, who else would it be?

-

After lunch, you pulled Kevin aside from the students rushing out of the cafeteria. 

“Hey, so I know we don’t talk so this is a bit weird. I was just wondering if you were the one that has been putting these notes in my locker?” You pulled out the notes and showed him. 

Kevin looked genuinely surprised. “Oh no, this wasn’t me. It does look like Mark’s handwriting though.”

You took the note back and examined it. “Do you really think so?” 

"Yeah, I borrow his notes all the time and he writes his 'q's weird."

You nodded. “Thanks. Can you also do me a favor and not tell anyone about this?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Kevin said. 

-

Later that day, you had economics with Mark. He sat beside you, being your only friend in this class. 

“Can I borrow your notes?” you asked your friend, trying to see if the handwriting matched. “My handwriting is too messy and I forgot what the teacher had on the powerpoint yesterday.” 

“Sure,” he handed his notebook to you, then went through his bag for his other supplies.

You hovered over him as he dug through his bag, trying to line up more similarities that would prove Mark was the secret admirer. You watched as he reached inside his pencil pouch for a pen then you saw it. The pink post-its. The ones the secret admirer used. Your mind stopped working for a bit. Mostly because you couldn’t believe it was actually him all along. And that he actually liked you back. 

“Mark?” you muttered, brows furrowed. 

You wanted to confront him. You really did. But then he looked at you with those soft eyes and you couldn’t. Your mouth opened then closed again. 

Maybe it was just a coincidence?

He wasn't the only Canadian you knew and pink post-it notes were common. Right? You didn’t know what to think. When it came to Mark, you were always scared of crossing the line hence why he was just a school friend and not a close friend.

But then you thought about it. Your secret admirer seemed to like Spiderman. And Mark Lee loved Spiderman. He even dressed up as it for Halloween last year. The realization hit you like a truck.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly as the bell rang.

“Nothing,” you smiled weakly. “Thank you for the notes, I appreciate it.”

-

“You still don’t know who the secret admirer is?” Chenle asked as you walked alongside him to the buses. 

“I think it’s Mark,” you whispered. 

Chenle dramatically covered his mouth in shock. “Really?”

“Yeah, his handwriting matches the one on the notes.” You began to tell him the whole story from beginning to end of how you found out that the secret admirer was Mark, not leaving out a single detail.

"Did you confront him yet?"

"No."

“Why not? You like him too."

“I don’t know, I guess I was starting to like the notes in my locker.” You sulked.

Chenle chortled. “Man, you're like a broken record. Him too.”

“Can you blame me— wait what? What do you mean him too?”

“You know what? I’ll just tell you since you already know. That poem your secret admirer wrote to you? The one where it said his friend suggested he write notes to you? That was me. I knew Mark liked you so I gave him a little push. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell him you liked him or anything.”

Chenle had to be kidding. He knew all along yet kept entertaining you as if he didn’t. Who knew he was such a good actor? 

“I can’t believe you kept this from me! You knew who it was all along and just played dumb?!” You lightly slapped his shoulder. 

“Hey! You should be thanking me for being a good friend. Without my smart brain telling him to leave notes in your locker, you'd probably be crying right now just because you saw Mark talking to another girl.” 

You lightly smacked his arm. "And that's exactly why I am not thanking you." It was just one time that you cried watching Mark attempting to flirt with a girl last year. And Chenle would never let you live it down.

-

Wanting to have some fun, you decided to be a secret admirer for Mark. You even disguised your handwriting and slipped the note into his locker during class to avoid suspicion. 

The bell had just rang, and from afar, you watched as he opened the note then approached him.

“Looks like secret admirers are popular these days,” you said singsongly as you reached his locker.

Mark folded the note, then looked up at you. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“What does it say?” There was a bright smile on your face as you watched how he seemed so confused.

“Nothing.” He tried to hide the note behind him, but you managed to snatch it anyway. 

You look gorgeous today Mark. I wonder how we would look together. Have you thought about me lately? Because I couldn’t get you out of my head. Love, your secret admirer <3

“No way,” you beamed, “Who do you think is your secret admirer?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter.” He frowned. 

“Of course it does,” you teasing him. “It’s a lot of fun to guess who is writing to you. Imagine if it was a stranger talking about how good looking you are! Trust me, I spent all my free time just watching the people around me, hoping it wasn’t a creep saying he liked my clothing choices. It was thrilling!” you rambled in a sarcastic tone.

Mark looked tense, a bit guilty at that. “About that,” he sighed, hands running through his hair. “I know who your secret admirer is.” 

“Mark, I know you’re my secret admirer,” you finally said, tired of dragging this on any longer.

"Oh." Mark looked so cute as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you liked me? Instead you watched as I stressed over who it was.”

“I’m sorry. I really never meant for it to get this far. I honestly thought you would’ve figured out it was me within the first week… Are you mad?”

“No, it was just annoying because I thought this guy was going through a lot of effort just to be rejected. But I’m glad it was you instead. You know how relieved I felt?” 

“Relieved?”

“Yes, because I like you too Mark. And according to Chenle, you liked me too?”

“He told you?” He whined. The tips of his ears turned red too and he looked so cute flustered. “I can’t believe it, he promised me.”

“Well to be fair, I already knew before he told me. I guess I just liked knowing you were the one behind the notes so I wanted to pretend for a while longer.” 

“So you’re really not mad at me?”

“No, I just wish you would’ve told me yourself. And by the way, that note you’re holding, I wrote that. I just disguised my handwriting.”

Mark relaxed as he looked at you with betrayal. “You’re so mean,” he pouted. “I thought it was from a stranger. It would’ve sucked to reject them.”

“Oh come on, you watched as I pulled my hair out trying to find out who my secret admirer was, and I’m the mean one? I just wanted to have some fun too.”

“What I did was cute and romantic, not revenge... I really didn’t mean for it to last for a whole month though”

“It is cute and romantic. Once I figured out that it was you and not some weirdo.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. Without the secret admirer thing, I don’t even know if we would have our feelings out right now. You’re too shy to say anything and I’m too awkward. So I guess we have Chenle to thank.”

“I guess so.” Mark smiled.

“How about we meddle with his love life too?” you beamed, eyes sparkling with mischief. It was time for payback. “You know how he likes that one girl in our first period? He’s always encouraging us to confess yet he’s even more hopeless than us. How about we give him a push too?”

“Oh I like that,” Mark smirked, impressed with how your mind worked. “Let’s do it.” 

[class1akids]

I've seen people perplexed that Touya (who is a much less sympathetic victim) than Toga or Tenko should be saved when the other two might not be. I've also seen people thinking that it's like a "trophy" to the Todoroki family.

But the way I see it, the real question is not whether Touya deserves to save or if he's redeemable or if the Todoroki family has earned it (these concept are kind of useless in the overall unfairness of life) - it's about creating the conditions that make saving someone like Touya possible.

I've said many times before, but I think the Todoroki family is a narrative mirror or microcosm to hero society.

It has its villain / hero - Endeavor

It has a victim/villain - Touya

It has a victim/ hero - Shouto

It has three "civilians" who all abide by the rules of Endeavor and who are victims themselves, and are unable to change anything. In Rei's case, she also ends up hurting Shouto and become a mental health showcase with being locked away for 10 years.

The change started with Shouto, who changed the family status quo of a decade by visiting Rei and reaching out to a fellow victim who hurt him, and “who did not ask for it”,thus kick-started both their healing.

It continued with Endeavor's change of heart tentatively supported (or at least not downright rejected) by his victims, Fuyumi becoming more assertive in trying to bring the family together to prepare a place for Rei to return, and then Shouto and Natsuo also building a whole new bridge which helped Natsuo not drift away completely.

Touya could only be saved because all these changes happened before. Shouto's ultimate move represents everything he learnt from the family and his own self-expression. But it wasn't enough. The saving needed Endeavor's remorse, making sure that he wouldn't fight back and make things worse. It needed the ice-users, the civilians to interfere and buy time. It even needed outsiders - Endeavor's loyal sidekicks and a true friend Shouto made on his own, Iida and even All Might's encouragement - to make it all happen on time.

Saving takes the concerted effort of a whole village - composed of heroes and civilians alike - that is willing to put in the effort whether that person they want to save is a perfect victim like Eri or a not particularly likable jerk like Touya. Touya didn't want to be saved, he in fact did his damnedest not to be saved, but as he kept slipping through the cracks towards an explosion the size of a nuke, there was always someone who stepped in to keep the hope alive.

And as the epilogue starts looking at what it means not just to bring back the zero, but to build something positive, I think this is an important lesson - society needs to change like the Todoroki family has changed. It needs not a single hero (who was bred / chosen for this purpose) but needs a safety net of heroes, of people who healed, victims that learned to assert themselves, civilians that refuse to be just standing by, and yes, it needs atoning villains.

I don't have a crystal ball, and I don't know if this is what Horikoshi is planning, but I think it would make a whole lot of sense with the build-up presented.

[vbecker10]

Talk to Me (Part 4) - Final

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You and Loki hold each other tightly in your bed and one of you finally says those three little words you are both so desperate to hear.

Warnings: This is almost as close to the characters having sex as I've ever gotten... it's definitely not quite there but it's close lol what else... um, he's super cold and you're hot so a bit of temperature difference is used... I'm not sure what would need a warning honestly but let me know if I missed anything

A/N: Thanks @soubi001 for letting me bounce ideas off of you like always! Thanks @jiyascepter for reading the absolute grammatical nightmare of my rough draft! Also... I changed a whole lot of it after I sent it to you so there's that 🫣

Hope everyone enjoyed this series (which was supposed to be a oneshot) 💚

"Can I ask you something?" you say a few minutes later in a low voice.

"You can ask me anything," he promises.

You look at Loki's hand resting under yours in the dim light of your room and hope your question isn't too much to ask of him.

"I was wondering if you could shift to your Jotun form," you finally force out the words and you can feel his breathing become less steady instantly. "You don't have to," you add quickly realizing you had been right, it was too much, too soon. You hoped he might be at least open to the idea because of your talk but how could you have be so nieve? One little talk wasn't going to undo years and years of negative thoughts and trauma.

"I just thought... I might feel safer... not that you don't already make me feel less anxious but I thought maybe if you were in your Jotun form, your ice powers could counter my pyrokinesis quicker when someth- if something happens," you try to explain your reasoning but you feel as if you are rambling. "If I have another nightmare... I don't want to hurt you."

He remains quiet and you can't guage his reaction without being able to see him. "I'm sorry, I should've have asked," you shake your head at your own stupidity.

"No, I'm sorry. I just needed a moment," he says softly as he tries to force away the thoughts that surfaced the moment you mentioned his Jotun form. "I have never been anyone's safe place before and I don't want to ruin this for you. I will do whatever it is you need me to do."

"You've always been my safe place, I guess I never actually told you that before... I just kinda thought you had figured that out since you're person I always go to when I'm scared," you tell him honestly. His arm relaxes again while you gently squeeze his hand, you can feel his breathing becoming slower. "I can't explain why but you make me feel calm and protected, I think that was why I was able to fall sleep with you in the library when we first started talking," you close your eyes knowing some things are easier to say without looking at him. "I've never felt this secure with anyone before, it's almost like I don't have to be afraid if you're with me."

He remains silent and you worry he doesn't believe you or worse, you've stepped over the boundary of your friendship and made him uncomfortable with your honesty. Loki closes his eyes as well, listening to your softly spoken words. All he ever wanted was to make you feel safe, the way you had made him feel whenever you would free him from a nightmare.

You feel Loki take a deep breath and slowly begin to feel his skin cool against your warm palm. You open your eyes to look at your hands and see his turn a deep blue under yours. The blue travels gradually up his wrist and you can't help but watch it move further up his arm as he shifts into his Jotun form without a word.

"This is the most beautiful shade of blue," you say quietly as your fingers lightly trace the ridges that spiral around the back of his hand. He sighs contently at your touch and you move your fingers steadily higher, following the ridges up his wrist and forearm. You roll over in his arms, tracing the ridges until you reach where his skin is covered by his sleeves.

You look at Loki and smile but he closes his eyes quickly, turning his head as if he still feels the urge to hide from you. You touch his cheek gently, noticing the thin ridges there as well. He opens his eyes in response to your light touch, his gaze locking on yours. "I've never seen anyone with eyes that were so..." you search for the right word.

"Demonic," he offers and you frown.

"Mesmerizing," you tell him. You love Loki's blue eyes, they were truly stunning but there was something about his true eyes. The intense ruby coloring almost seems to glow in the semi-darkness of your room.

He smiles in response but you can tell he is forcing it, you can always tell unlike some of the others on the team. You suddenly lean towards him, kissing his cheek lightly where your fingers had been.

He looks at you in shock, his lips parted slightly as he blinks slowly. You bite your lip, chewing on it nervously as your mind races to process your action. You feel a blush creep across your checks and neck as your brain catches up, quickly you try to roll away from him but his arm holds you in place.

"Y/N," he tries to keep his voice calm, his heart beating rapidly from the unexpected kiss. He places his cool hand on your warm cheek, wishing you would kiss him again. He shifts towards you, removing the little bit of space that had existed until his lips are only inches from yours. His gaze drops to your lips then he looks into your eyes.

I love you, his heart screams but he holds the words back. You had accepted him, every bit of him, even the parts he wasn't yet able to accept himself. His heart argues with his mind, tell her you love her, it pleads.

You look into Loki's fiery red eyes, anxiety coursing through your body. You can see he wants to say something but you are afraid he will remind you that he is only your friend and nothing more. The moment between the kiss and now has only been seconds but it feels like an eternity. Your eyes fall from his and you feel as if you need to be free from his arms so you can hide yourself away. Again, Loki's arm remains around your body, preventing you from your escape.

You lift your eyes to meet his again and he says, "You have always told me I can talk to you about anything."

You nod as you try to brace yourself to be devastated. He sighs, you see worry and uncertainty in his eyes, whatever he is preparing himself to tell you is not something small. You wait anxiously as the seconds tick by until he finally speaks.

"I need you to know how much I cherish you and our friendship," he says and your heart sinks as you fear he will end any thoughts you had that you could ever be together.

"I do not want to ruin the closeness we have, you mean so much more to me than I ever thought possible but... I do not want to simply remain your friend," he says and you look at him, stunned by his words.

His thumb strokes your cheek gently and he gathers all the courage he can to continue. "I want to be so much more than your friend. I want to call you mine, I want to be yours and I want everyone to know it. I want to take you on dates and sleep with my arms around you like this every night," he says and your heart races as his lips come slowly closer. He pauses, trying to study your reaction, his nervousness eating away at him.

"Loki, I-" you try to find the words you need, the words you had told yourself you would never have a chance to say.

He clenches his jaw and he looks down as you struggle to answer, his own thoughts telling him that he shouldn't have listened to his heart. You had a hard enough day and night without him throwing his feelings into the mix.

"Loki," you say again and he looks up, you smile nervously. "I want all of that, too," you finally force the words free. "I want to be yours, I always have."

His red eyes light up and the smile you fell in love with spreads across his lips at your admission. In an instant, he presses his lips to yours and you feel it in your whole body. You kiss him back, your fingers on the back of his neck while his hand moves to your lower back, holding you to him. He pulls back far too soon to look at you, his wide smile still present.

"I love you," you hear the words leave your lips and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. You are unsure how the words slipped free, maybe it was the feeling of his lips against yours but it was too soon to admit you had such deep feelings for him. He had only just told you he wanted to date you, you had skipped too far ahead, you scold yourself.

He chuckles and removes your hand from your mouth. "I love you, too," he says, his heart finally feeling free.

"Do you mean it?" you ask in disbelief. "Please, don't say it if you don't mean it."

"Y/N, I have never and will never lie to you. I have loved you for months," he says honestly. He feels a wave of relief flood through him as he finally tells you what he had kept hidden. "I don't know when it happened," he smiles with a slight shrug. "When I look back now, I feel as if I have always loved you."

You can't stop the blush that creeps up your neck, filling you with warmth. Never in your wildest dreams had you expected to hear him say these words. You smile, "I know the exact moment I realized I was in love with you."

His icy fingers running up and down the exposed skin on your arm, causing you to shiver a bit and shift closer to him. "Tell me," he urges gently.

You giggle, remembering that afternoon three months ago as you do so often. "We were in the park, having lunch and it started pouring out of absolutely no where. I didn't have a jacket or even a sweater to hide under. We abandoned our food on the bench and you took my hand, leading me to the nearest place where we could find any shelter."

Loki chuckles as the memory of the day flashes into his mind, you weren't the only one who vividly remembered that afternoon. "The only dry place was the small overhang of the maintenance shed," he says as he pictures the spot.

You nod, "There was barely enough room for one of us under there. My back was against the wall of the building and you stood facing me, your back still getting rained on. You stayed so close to me, sheltering me from the worst of it. Your hair was dripping and your dress shirt was soaked through but you didn't seem to notice, you still stood between me and the storm. You were so protective of me, making sure I was okay."

The storm has raged for only ten minutes but the intensity was what caught everyone off guard. The wind picked up furiously as lightning struck the tall buildings near the park. Some people had speculated that the storm had been called by Thor since it wasn't in the weather forecast for the day but he denied it.

Loki smirks, "My first priority was of course your safety and making sure you were clear of the storm but there was another, less nobel reason I stayed so close to you."

"There was?" you ask, feeling a blush of warmth rising up your neck again. His cool fingers gently brush along your warm skin as he nods in response to your question.

In a low voice he says, "You were utterly drenched, your blouse sticking tightly to you. I can still picture how the dark gray fabric clung to your curves so perfectly. I spent our time waiting for the storm to pass fighting an overwhelming urge to touch you, to kiss you. If I'm being completely honest, I wanted to push you against the wall of that building and kiss you until the storm died down, perhaps not even stopping then."

"You should have," you tell him quickly. You had no idea that was what he was thinking while you waited together, you wish you had. You smile then add, "I just need to say this... you looked really sexy looming over me like that and now I guess it's cause that's what you were thinking about."

He runs his thumb lightly across your bottom lip and says, "I think we should start making up for lost time." You nod excitedly and he presses his lips to yours fiercely.

Loki rolls over quickly so you are on your back, his lips never leaving yours as he positions himself on top of you. One of your hands moves to his lower back, holding him firmly to your body and the fingers on your other hand tangle in his long black hair. You feel the temperature of his lips changing, his skin becoming warmer and you break away from the kiss.

Loki looks down at you, his blue eyes quickly filling with concern. "Is something wrong?" he asks.

You touch the pale skin on his cheek lightly and smile, "No."

"Are you sure?" he asks, fear quickly building in him from how suddenly you pulled away.

"Don't look so worried. I felt you shift and I wanted to tell you something," you try to calm him.

"What's that darling?" he tries to push away his worry.

"I need you to know that I don't care where you are from, Jotunheim or Asgard. It doesn't matter to me, it doesn't change how I feel about you. You are still exactly who you were before you let me see beyond your illusion. I understand why you would be more comfortable in your Asgardian form but I hope you can learn to feel just as comfortable without your illusion one day," you watch his fears fade away gradually. "I love you, every bit of you whether you are Jotun or Asgardian," you tell him and he smiles.

"Plus... I used to work with the X-Men, so you're not even close to being the first blue person I've ever met," you add, hoping to make him laugh a little since he seemed so stressed moments ago. "A surprising number of mutants are blue, I'm not sure if you knew that. But of all the blue people I know, you are by far my favorite. And the best looking, might I add."

He lets out a loud laugh, his forehead resting on the bed next to your shoulder. "I'm serious, you are really hot when you're blue. I mean you're also really hot when you're not, too," you giggle at the feeling of Loki shaking from laughter while he is on top of you.

After he calms his laughter, he shakes his head and looks at you, "What am I going to do with you?"

You smile up at him and shrug innocently. "Love me?" you suggest.

"I already do," he says. "Very," he kisses your cheek, "much," he kisses your other cheek.

"You could keep kissing me?" you ask with another hopeful suggestion.

He smirks then kisses your lips softly, then your nose causing you to giggle more then your forehead lightly. He looks into your eyes as they slowly shift to be ruby red again. You reach up and cup his cheek as his skin cools once more. "Is this okay?" he asks as he continues to slowly let his illusion fade away.

"Its perfect," you answer, the same as you had when he first held you. "You're perfect."

His skin loses its warmth as the blue spreads up his neck to his face and down to his arms. You move your hand to the back of his neck and pull him towards you, your lips meeting his roughly. He presses you into the mattress, his hips grind down against yours, causing you to moan quietly.

Loki's lips leave yours and you let out a small whine in protest making him chuckle. "I'm not nearly finished with you my love, don't you worry," he assures you. He kisses your neck, just below your ear and you feel a shiver run down your body as his icy lips travel down your warm skin.

"Loki," you breathe out his name when his lips reach your collarbone.

Loki pulls his lips away from you to look over at your nightstand, your eyes follow his gaze. You giggle when he looks back at you, "A little mood lighting?" he asks, his smirk returning.

You blush and shrug, realizing you had lit the three small candles you keep near your bed for practice.

"Let's make sure you don't set anything else on fire tonight, hmm?" he says gently.

"I can't make any promises," you tell him in a joking manner.

His fingers move to your cheek and you feel a chill as he calls his ice powers forward. He trails his icy fingers slowly down your cheek to your neck and where he had left off on your collarbone. You shiver at the sensation, closing your eyes as you arch into his touch.

"No more fires," he says slowly, the breath from each word feels like ice against the warm skin on your neck.

You nod and he smiles, "Good girl." You bite your lip, blushing at the small bit of praise and Loki immediately notices. "Hmm, I will need to remember that for later," he says with a raised eyebrow.

You wave your hand gently towards the candles, extinguishing the flames then place your warm hand on his cheek. Pulling him towards you again, you kiss him fiercely, your heated lips meeting his cool lips. Loki's tongue slips between your teeth and your hands move down his back to the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric tighter as his hips press you firmly into the mattress.

Loki sits up, his eyes still focused on yours as he pulls his shirt off over his head. Before he can lower himself onto you again, your eyes roam up and down his body and you whisper, "Wow."

He laughs and asks, "Is that a good wow or bad?"

You smile, "Very, very good." Then without thinking you add, "I didn't think it was possible but you are even hotter than I had imagined."

He tilts his head and smirks, "My dear, have you pictured me without my clothes on before?" You blush easily again and say nothing. He leans back down, his lips barely in an inch from yours and says, "Talk to me, I want to hear what you imagined."

You keep eye contact and say, "Sometimes when I can't sleep I think about being with you in my bed..." you pause.

"Is that all?" he asks, knowing there is more you haven't told him.

"No," you try not to giggle.

"Tell me all of it," he says, his fingers running an icy path down your arm.

"I also think about us being in your bed-" you say as Loki's hips move against yours. He lifts them slowly and you continue, "and in my shower-" again he moves his hips as you talk and you can feel how hard he is. "I want you on your couch-" you keep listing locations and he kisses your neck, biting it lightly. "And in my office..." your voice trails off when his lips move back to yours.

You cling to his back, feeling the ridges that spiral up and down his skin. You pull away from Loki's lips and trail your warm fingers deliberately down two long ridges. "How far down to these go? Are they... everywhere?"

He smirks, "You're about to find out."

You open your eyes slowly the next morning and smile when you realize Loki is still with you. He is resting on his back while you lay on his bare chest, his arms tightly around you. Your fingers slowly trace the ridges that run across his body and he chuckles when you accidentally tickle him.

"Good morning my love," he says in a sleepy voice.

You sit up and kiss his cheek, his red eyes meeting yours before you lay your head back on his chest. "I was worried last night was just an absolutely perfect dream," you say softly.

His fingers run gently up and down your back. "It was very real," he assures you. "You're mine and I am yours," he says and your body fills with warmth.

You move so you can kiss his lips softly and remind him, "I love you."

He holds the back of your neck gently and brings your lips back to his so he can kiss you longer. He smiles and says, "Tell me that again."

You giggle, "I love you."

He kisses your cheek as he sits up, "Tell me again."

"I love you, Loki," you say.

He rolls you onto your back and kisses your neck, just below your ear then he moves slowly down. "Again," he says when he pauses.

You look up at him, touching his cheek gently, "I love you."

"I will never tire of hearing those words leave your soft lips," he says from above you. "I love you, Y/N," you smile just before he presses his lips to yours once more.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[canonizzyhours]

I'm a professional screenwriter. I know nobody reading this has any reason to believe that, and I work pretty hard to keep my fandom activity separate from my professional identity, so I'm not going to offer any proof that would doxx me here, believe me or don't. But it's true and I don't just mean I'm trying to get hired as a screenwriter, I mean I am pretty well established in the industry and I've worked on some stuff big enough you've probably heard of it. I've also been active in OFMD fandom for about two years now, since nearly the beginning.

The canyon really freaks me out because seeing it up close makes me worried I've drastically underestimated audiences' empathy gap around characters of color and tendency to sympathize with and excuse the actions of white characters. I've always tried to be conscious about that sort of thing in my work but now that I'm seeing the whole process up close it's so much worse than I always thought.

I think a lot about what I would have done during season 1 of OFMD, if I were in the writers' room and I'd wanted to make sure it would be clear to the audience that Izzy was Ed's abuser and wasn't acting out of secretly sympathetic motives and we're supposed to be genuinely horrified by his actions. I'm in writers' rooms workshopping issues like this all the time. I know the kinds of suggestions I'd make.

Like, if we were worried that the audience would think Izzy's hostility toward Stede was about class instead of homophobia, I might have suggested we make sure Izzy's dialogue never has any reference to Stede's class at all, and that we might do a subplot in one episode where Izzy is equally hostile toward Lucius, since Lucius clearly isn't rich but is extremely gay. But that already happened, and it didn't help.

If I wanted to make sure the audience understood that Izzy is bossing the crew around and screaming at everyone to work harder because he's a petty little bully on a power trip and not because the work actually needs to get done, I might have suggested a scene where Izzy deliberately makes a mess on purpose just so he can order the crew to clean it up. But that already happened, and it didn't help.

If I wanted to make it clear that Izzy has always been awful toward everyone around him -- especially his colleagues of color -- since long before the show started, I might have suggested we repeatedly emphasize throughout the season that while Fang is willing to work with him, he doesn't like or respect Izzy and this is because Izzy has always treated Fang very badly. Have him pull on Fang's beard for no reason and have Fang explicitly say he hates that but knows it wouldn't help to complain. Have Fang tell strangers jokes about times Izzy humiliated himself in public. Have a scene where everybody unanimously VOTES TO MURDER IZZY and someone explicitly stops to ask Fang if he's cool with this and Fang explicitly says yes this is absolutely fine with me and then he actively participates in the murder plan while smiling. But all of that happened and I still see the canyon insisting that Izzy was a much nicer person before the events of s2 when he wasn't under so much stress and has always been liked and respected by the PoC around him, including specifically Fang!

If I were worried that the audience might take seriously the idea that Izzy is motivated by "loyalty to your captain" -- well, honestly I don't think it ever would have occurred to me to worry about that, since he says that in a scene where he's in the middle betraying his captain and I'd probably assume people are capable of picking that up and understanding that when someone says they're abusing you for your own good you should not believe them. But if someone else insisted we address the concern, suggestions I'd make would include: make sure some of the first interactions we see between Ed and Izzy involve Izzy complaining about how he doesn't want to do the job Ed just gave him, then half-assing the mission and lying to Ed's face about it. Show Izzy deliberately undermining Ed to the crew by telling them he's half-insane, then insist to Ed that he's the only one keeping the crew loyal when they're worried about his judgment. But they did that stuff and we still have people thinking Izzy's central motivation throughout season 1 is selfless devotion to Ed.

The show did every single thing I would have suggested, and none of it worked. So what does it say about all the stuff I've already worked on, whenever I've written a scene where a white guy was being a dick to characters of color? Have I just been embarrassingly naive this whole time? Have I undermined my own work by not getting this?

You can't control audience reactions, I know that, that's part of what's great about art, you have to let go and accept that people will interpret things in ways you never intended, I get it. But if it's THIS impossible to choose words that will create the kind of feelings you meant to, what's the point? Is it even possible to write about the kind of abusive relationship Ed and Izzy have, where the white guy thinks he's entitled to control a brown man's life "for his own good" and that the brown guy is obligated to be grateful and reciprocate his "love" and not have a huge group of people creating elaborate justifications for the white guy? What else could they have done? What else can I do, when I'm writing about characters of color? I'm seriously asking. If anybody reading this has advice I want to hear it. What could I do?

#408.

[auncyen]

ALSO ALSO while thinking about the whole Sadness scenario I started thinking about "how common are Sadnesses in every day life and how are they handled?" The first I would imagine is that they're relatively rare and the latter is that. Any sizable community has both preventive and healing measures (because they have to figure someone eventually's going to slip through the cracks, or they might get someone trying to escape a rough past). I kind of feel like since the Defenders in Jouvente never saw anything worse than robbery probably a lot of their work is actually along the lines of community service where they're like repairing things, checking in on disabled/elderly/otherwise isolated residents to make sure they're doing okay and see if there's anything they can do to help, etc. In a big city like Jouvente it's probably not uncommon to see a Sadness on the "harmless blob" level, but it's treated as a serious matter where they need to try to figure out who needs help before they get worse.

But like, on an individual scale, you probably get more mixed feelings about Sadnesses than just "oh let's help the person". And like.

...So basically how the chain of thought went was "y'know kids can be depressed/upset sometimes and if they're REALLY young they don't know how to express what they're feeling at all. can you imagine how terrifying it'd be for parents to have their child be all sad and then seem a little happier for a moment, saying they have a friend, and then you catch them with their 'friend' and YOUR FOUR-YEAR-OLD IS PLAYING WITH THEIR OWN SADNESS"

then it was like "isn't one of the Sadnesses literally just Anxiety. That'd be one hell of a way to find out your child has anxiety, because they've got a Sadness"

then: "...wait. Mirabelle has anxiety."

Just like. If Mirabelle being on kind of distant/weird terms with her family is because her anxiety was causing her so much distress that she had a Sadness as a child and whether her parents just didn't try or did try but were at a loss of how to help her, she ended up at a House of Change as part of like a healing program (being taught coping skills, life skills to build confidence) and eventually just was like YEAH I'D RATHER STAY HERE AND BE A HOUSEMAIDEN

[meanbossart]

What would DU drow do if a random kid saw him as an idol? Like in a way that the kid wants to be like him when their older?

What the hell, this is the ask that inspired this drawing and I thought it had vanished because, for whatever reason, it only appears when I look at the inbox through my phone 🤷🤷🤷 well might as well answer it now!

Well, I'm not sure what would lead a child to see him as an idol. In my mind, himself as well as his main party went as unsung heroes following the defeat of the brain. Word spread within small pockets but very few people know Exactly who they are, and the papers didn't feel too compelled to sing a Drow, a Vampire, and a Sharran praises on the front page. I'm sure they attributed the feat to Jaheira and the more palatable members of the group. Our crew is fine with that.

But if a kid caught him doing something cool, or just happened to gravitate to him for whatever reason, he would be... Really nice, actually LOL

He's not gifted with patience or has much experience with children, but in most cases he just sees them as innocent beings that should be spared the worse of his attributes. He'd say the right thing, and he'd say it plainly - then move on to do the opposite, probably. Just try to be a good influence on someone who still has a chance.

He's probably one of those people who children either find really boring or become really captivated by. Kids love weird guys who talk to them like they're fully realized beings, I hear - they just gotta deal with the occasional half-hearted attempt at behavioral correction if they wanna hang out with the huge cool looking Drow.

Also, he thinks being a mom looks really hard. He's happy to make one's life a little easier if he can by steering their kid in a slightly more agreeable direction LOL

[anisscarletstarlet]

Batman Anakin Skywalker

part 1

You hadn’t seen Anakin since the night he ended things with you. You listened as your calls went straight to voicemail every night, tears welling in your eyes at the sound. Watching the news and reading newsletters became a ritual, a way to keep up with both Anakin and The Batman, not that there was much about Anakin himself.

Tonight, you were determined to enjoy yourself, if only for a few hours. The Charity Ball was something you longed for ever since dating Anakin, and you weren’t going to miss out on it. You ended up going with one of Anakin’s old friends, purely as eye candy, but you didn’t care. He had his arm around your waist, introducing you to people whose names you didn't really catch.

The night was going smoothly until Anakin walked in. The room fell into hushed whispers, no one really expecting him to show up. You couldn't tear your gaze away from him, he looked even worse than the last time you saw him. Your eyes caught his for a split second before you looked away, only to discover that your date was long gone, leaving you to get yourself a drink on your own.

You sighed and made your way to the bar, trying to steady your nerves. As you reached for the glass set before you, a familiar presence settled beside you.

“Fancy seeing you here” Anakin's voice came from beside you. You looked up to find him standing close, eyebags framing his now dull, lifeless eyes.

“I could say the same to you" your voice was barely above a mumble. Unable to keep your eyes on his, you let your eyes drop to his suit. He always knew what to wear to impress you, and tonight was no different.

“Obi-Wan forced me,” he said, motioning for the bartender to get him a drink. “You, on the other hand, shouldn’t be here”

“That's none of your concern anymore,” you replied coldly, your eyes hardening as you looked at him.

“And I see you’re still turning heads,” he continued, choosing to ignore your comment as his gaze swept over you, his arm resting lightly against your waist. “You look beautiful”

“Anakin, please, I’m here with someone” you pushed his hand away, your voice tinged with desperation as you glanced away.

“You mean him?” you let your gaze follow the direction he nodded his head towards, only to find your date with his arm already around another woman. You sighed, defeated as you looked away, embarrassed and humiliated.

Luckily whatever Anakin was saying was drowned out by the sudden commotion near the door. Screams and running ensued in no time, and once he caught sight of the reason, he grabbed your arm and dragged you away with him, making sure you never caught sight of whatever was going on there.

You two ended up in one of the many offices in the building, your back pressed against the door with his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. The situation suddenly seemed all too familiar, your hands pushing him away at the realization.

"Stop doing that" you whispered harshly once his hand left your mouth, resting next to your head. You let your eyes watch the way he licked his lips, and he seemed to take notice.

"I've missed you. So much" he let his eyes trace all over your face, gaze lingering on your lips. There was a soft smile on his lips, as if he couldn't hear the chaos going on just outside the door behind you. Truth was you were starting to tune it out as well, the way he was looking at you capturing your full attention.

He slowly let his lips find yours, giving you time to pull away, but you didn't. You were stupid for this, but he smelt so good, looked so good, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss him more than he could ever miss you.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you" he whispered between kisses, pressing his body against yours. His tongue had found its way into your mouth, mapping it out the way it has many times before. He plopped you onto the nearest desk, pushing away anything in the way, never caring much for other's properties. He continued speaking against the skin of your neck, his teeth grazing it ever so slightly, "Tell me you missed me too"

"Missed you too, Ani" your words were cut off by your own moan as he let his fingers stray underneath your dress, kneading at the flesh of your thigh.

You knew you were going to regret giving in the following morning, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when he whispered for you to stay close, sneaking you out of the building and into one of his many cars.

"Shouldn't you be helping?" you asked, looking back at the people running outside the building you were in mere seconds ago. He didn't even look back, instead looking at you with a smile on his lips as he let his hand find your thigh, leaning in closer to you.

"They'll be fine" he whispered, the smile never leaving his face as he looked back at the road, fingers squeezing your covered skin.

Everything after that was a familiar blur. He wasted no time in getting you naked and on his bed, lips kissing every inch of your skin, his fingers leaving bruises in their wake due to their tight grip.

"So fucking good for me" he groaned, stopping himself from moving the second he was fully sheathed within you. The stretch burned like no other, a clear giveaway of how long you had gone without contact. "So damn tight. Didn't let anyone else touch you, did you?"

You shook your head, unable to get the words out as you clenched your eyes shut. You felt him twitch inside you, his hands going to grip your hips as he slowly started rutting against you. He was slowly picking up the pace, making sure to capture every twitch of your lips, every noise you made. He wanted to burn the image of you pleasuring yourself on his cock into his mind as he guided your own fingers down to your clit, sitting back and fucking you into his expensive mattress, his own groans barely concealed.

He didn't stop until your tears had soaked his pillowcase, your lipstick covering his own lips and the pillow beneath you. In true Anakin fashion he made sure you came at least thrice before he finally emptied himself deep inside you, his hands smoothing over your hair as he calmed you down, laying down next to you with his now soft cock buried deep inside you, slowly lulling you to sleep.

"That's it, my good girl. Always so good for me" his voice was soft next to your ear as your sobs turned into sniffles, his hands pulling you closer, your sweaty skin, covered in his own spit, pressing against his own, his lips leaving kisses against your shoulder. "I've got you, baby."

You woke up all alone a few hours later, throwing your clothes back on and rushing out, tears already stinging your eyes, only to be stopped by Obi-Wan's voice coming from behind you.

"Glad to have you back" you looked back to find a smile on his face, looking as put together as ever. "Anakin is downstairs, he'd be disappointed to find you gone."

So you went downstairs alongside Obi, your eyes soaking in what one could only describe as a mancave. Sure enough, Anakin was sat before a bunch of monitors, his eyes glued to one of the screens showcasing what seemed to be old security camera footage as he scribbled down something onto a notebook. He only looked up when Obi-Wan called his name, his eyes lighting up when he spotted you standing next to him.

"Why're you up already?" he asked, standing up and making his way towards you. "I'll be up soon, go ahead" the soft smile on his face never faltered, so you listened, and you never looked back.