#LITERALLY been wanting one of these of me

[reshinless]

Imagine

Kinich with

With a breeding kink

Imagine him not allowed to finish inside at the beginning, but gods does he beg to

Eventually reader gives in and allows him to

Hhhhhhhhes so jekfmekdkfke😞

──── i wanna see some!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. baby fever & kinich (i cant think of anything aesthetic)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. thank you all again for 1k, i might be a bit slow with posts since projects are going crazy at class rn sob

kinich who has to plead and beg to cum inside of you. even if it is in the heat of the moment; there's no shame in asking, you are his partner after all.

after a few times where stress gets to you and you both wanna relieve it (sex)- you might as well indulge into the activity, right?

but after a few more tries, you can sense how tempted your lover was to keep your hips attached to his before he came, literally having to ask you with that oh-so-whiny voice.

"ah- pretty, please- ahhn- fffuck let me cum in you- need it s'bad." you felt bad hearing how desperate he was, but no no no you both had lives outside of this. it could be a lot of hassle. jokes on you though because he already has baby names planned out for them ^_^

so in love with the way your hole just takes him so good he can't help but ask more and more, it'd be an honor to orgasm with you anyway, he wouldn't have it any other way.

kinich who already had your legs hoisted up on his shoulder, his gloved grip strong against the plush of your thighs, archons was he hot. "p- please.. c'mon i've been treating you real nice, right? let me breed you." he whispered into your ear as he leaned forward.

ever since he saw you with mualani's baby niece in your arms, cooing to her like how any parent would. making the small child in your arms smile, and giggle at your peekaboo attempts, or how you tickled her with a sense of gentleness.

what would your kids with him look like? shit he could already imagine.. his black-blue hair and your (e/c) colored eyes. or what if they had your hair, and his eyes? or maybe they'd be your little carbon copy, and take after their dad for personality. his mind hasn't stopped ever since seeing the situation unfold in front of him.

but when you finally let him, of course he has to build up the best orgasm for you both to share! fitting his head into the crook of your neck; "what do you think our kids would look like? or act like?" it felt like the more he talked, the faster he went. "mmph.. maybe i jus' wanna see you with a round belly. jus' wanna see you bearing our child."

he could already imagine life after you've given birth, what would he name them if it were to be a girl, or perhaps a boy? maybe a mixture of both of your names? or let you decide?

"ahh- u- uhuh? you like the way i thrust into you, right? i'd hate for you to be uncomfortable." he hummed as he continued drilling his cock into you. your hole was already so wet from the previous foreplay beforehand, well of course when you let him cum inside, he'll want a taste of your pussy before it's alllll gone!

he'll still ask you if he could kiss you right after. he wants to make what'll happen now special for you and him to look back onto in the future. laughing or not at the past, he'll make sureit's memorable..

of course by the evident, and growing bulge in your tummy. oh fffuck you could feel it coming already-

"d- don't cum yet, p- pretty. w'na do it together." he mumbles out, barely being able to control himself, he placed one of your stray palms onto the mark on your stomach. "you feel me inside you?"

you couldn't help but let out a loud moan, throwing your head back before he quickly pulls your hair to look back at him.

"don't look anywhere else, pretty, i wanna see the way you look when i make you cream on my dick while i cum too. okay?"

you could hear the loud sound of his shaft slapping against you loudly in the stray hallways of the outside lobby of the hotel you both stayed in- previously on a mission.

even what felt like the fifteenth time you've came on his cock again, it just seemed like it only throbbed, continuously hard throughout all your climaxes. each dominant vein on his cock you could feel, the way his grip tightened around your waist as he took the gloves on his hands with his mouth to make sure not to waste a drop.

"mmf- k- kin i'm g'na-" you try to close your thighs, but to no avail, as kinich's palm, previously on your hair, moves swiftly to keep them open. "i know y'can take me baby, don't worry."

kinich who wrapped a possessive arm around you as you came, holding your waist close to his as you came. as his warm load shot up inside you, letting you arch your back all you wanted on the base of his cock. your arms instinctively rang around his neck, still shaking, trembling almost from coming with him.

he slowly let you lay down on the comfort of the pillows.

he leans down next to you, his fingers still keeping themselves inside your hole.

"not a drop wasted, 'kay?"

he couldn't wait 'till the day came that he'd be able to see kids of both your descents-

"what's with all the-" ajaw's jaw drops at the scene of you cuddling, and kinich hand still inside your hole.

"..." "..YOU ARE DISGUSTING!!"

i kind of ran out mid way for ideas, so sorry if this isn't what you were looking for sob

[hgfictionwriter]

Discovery - Part Four

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's feeling the lowest she has in a long time. Things are at the tipping point and she needs to choose to either confront things head on or lose you forever.

Warnings: G!P content. Heavy angst. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of rejection and self-loathing; self-sabotaging behaviours. Language.

A/N: Chapters one, two and three.

“I can’t believe you. I’ve waited all day to hear from you - and nothing. After everything that happened, you just leave in the middle of the night and just dead silence. Are you kidding me, Jess?”

“First you give me the cold shoulder all evening without any explanation as to why. Started by a conversation you began, might I add. I tell you I love you. We kiss and you literally throw me off of you.”

“Yes, I was upset and I didn’t want to talk. But you just ghost me all day? I know you withdraw when you’re upset or overwhelmed, but you don’t even have the decency to check in with me or give me some kind of an explanation?”

Jessie sunk into her seat on the couch as she read your messages again. She’d been staring at them on and off for the past hour and felt paralyzed, unable to act.

She’d managed to make it to training this morning, but she was certainly worse for wear. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had dark circles under them from a mix of sleep deprivation and the time she’d spent crying. Her teammates immediately clocked her upset and some fawned over her trying to suss things out and help, but she was largely unresponsive.

She just wanted to do her drills to keep her mind off of you and the absolute disaster she’d created.

Coach recommended she talk to the sports therapist, and while she nodded her agreement, she had no intention of rushing. She already knew what they’d say and she wasn’t interested right now. If she was willing to do those things, guess what, she wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament in the first place.

So here she sat at home this evening, in self-imposed solitude and catatonic. The apartment was dead quiet as she flipped between scrolling distractedly through her phone and re-reading messages with you and looking at pictures of the two of you.

She needed to respond. But it seemed no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what to say. Nothing was remotely adequate. She let out a shuddering breath as she continued to remain inert.

Her heart raced as another message came in from you.

“I’d like to think we’d built enough of a connection and you have enough respect for me to at least acknowledge me and respond. I’ve been sitting here making up excuses in my head for you all day, but reality is, you just choose not to talk to me.”

She let her head fall heavily back against the wall with a dull thud. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she felt herself start to tear up yet again.

The end felt inevitable, but underneath all of her fear and anxiety it isn’t what she wanted. It would be easier perhaps. Just close herself off again. Be single again for god knows how long. She was exceptional at pushing people away and pretending it didn’t matter.

Then, maybe, when it felt safe again and the hardship she was currently experiencing was just a distant memory, she would hope to meet someone as incredible as you again. But for what? So she could compare them to you? Miss you? To fuck it all up again?

She released a slow, steady breath and brought her phone back up to reply.

“I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner. I was at training earlier and I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”

“She lives. Well, thank you for replying... So. Do you know what you want to say now?”

She sighed in frustration.

“No.”

She shouldn’t be so curt.

“I wish I did.”

“Well. That’s very helpful.”

“I have some things I want to say. But if you’re not interested in hearing them or trying to resolve anything, I suppose there’s no point.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“I want to know.”

“Do you actually? Because, frankly, even if I told you how I feel last night, I’m not that interested in humiliating myself further or wasting my time if we’re not on the same page.”

Jessie’s chest constricted painfully as she read your message. She never used to consider herself a selfish person, but seeing the toll she’d taken on you, she couldn’t deny it. She wiped angrily at a stray tear at the corner of her eye.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to feel that way and I’m sorry I’ve caused it. I do want to hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t want to do this through text. It’s going to fucking suck but I want to talk in person.”

Jessie sat forward to the edge of the couch and leaned her forearms heavily against her thighs as she studied your message.

She was scared. She didn’t want to do that. Still, she owed you that, the truth, and so much more. And even if you left hating her, she had to make sure you knew it really was all her - you’d been perfect and all of this rot branched from her.

And if it really was the end, she couldn’t resist seeing you one more time.

“Okay. Where and when?”

—————

Jessie’s hands were cold and clammy as she walked down the hall to your apartment. She breathed heavily before catching herself and steadying them. She compulsively opened and closed her fists as she waited for you to answer.

When you opened the door, your expression was a far cry from the one she was used to seeing greet her. Instead of seeing a bright or warm smile, you looked tired and weary.

Guilt radiated through Jessie; she caused this single-handedly. She was supposed to make you happy, bring you comfort, make you feel safe and loved. Instead, she left you looking like a shell of yourself. Slowly at first, small nicks here and there, before a catastrophic and now lingering blow.

“Come in,” you said with only the slightest inflection in your voice. You stepped aside but didn’t make eye contact as Jessie entered.

“I, um, got you this,” Jessie said after she set her shoes aside and took off her backpack. She pulled a vinyl record out of it and handed it to you. She met your discerning gaze briefly before dropping it to the record in her hand. “I know you’ve been looking for it, so…”

You tentatively took it from her, a frown on your face as you examined it.

“Thanks,” you said flatly.

She knew it wouldn’t fix things or make things up to you - not by a long shot - but she had the faintest hope you would be more receptive.

When she forced herself to look up at you again, she saw you still studying the record. Eventually, your frown deepened and you looked at her almost accusingly.

“I don’t get you,” you said. “You barely talk to me these past couple of days and you act all cagey but then you do this? It doesn’t make sense.”

Your face faltered briefly before you grew stoic once more. “Some days you seem to really like me. Really care for me and understand me and we connect so well. And then others it feels like you can hardly stand to look at me.” A flash of emotion appeared on your face and disappeared just as fast. Your voice strained vaguely before you steadied it. “Never mind touch me.”

Jessie swallowed and dropped her gaze in shame. You went on, your voice cracking.

“I’ve tried to be really patient. But after the other night…I’ve done a lot of thinking and I can’t help but admit how hard it’s been.”

You sighed heavily and set the record down on a nearby table before returning and folding your arms tightly against yourself and leaning back against the wall. Your brow was heavy with a frown.

“And I know you've been trying." Your voice grew taut. "Prior anyway. And that's probably what makes it the worst. It's been hard for you, too - to be with me." Your face fell and your lip trembled briefly as you looked away.

Jessie's heart ached as she watched you battle with your emotions. All of the fear and worry she'd let dominate her fell away, replaced with an overwhelming need to hold you and make you feel better.

"It hasn't been," Jessie beseeched, taking a step forward but stopping when your gaze flicked back to her, warning.

"Do you think I’m stupid?" You said sharply. "I know you can’t stand to touch me. At first, I kept trying to give myself, and you, the benefit of the doubt - but the other night really proved that not only do you most definitely not find me attractive,” you laughed acerbically, “I think I might actually even repulse you.” You stared at her a moment, letting your words hang in the air and feigning amusement before choking back a sob. You visibly clenched your jaw before you forced another empty laugh. “That’s a fun one. My therapist’s about to get a ton of business from me.”

You took a shuddering breath and your voice cracked as you spoke. "I already know how this ends.”

“That’s not at all what’s happening or how I feel,” Jessie protested. She pressed the heels of her palms firmly into her eyes and grit her teeth. Her voice strained with burgeoning emotion. “Jesus Christ. That’s not it at all."

Your face screwed up and you gave a sad shake of your head as you stared her down.

“Stop. Just stop with the vague excuses. Just be honest with me. I don’t need you to confirm it, but don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I can tell,” voice breaking at the end. “Every time you pull away. How uncomfortable you can be when we’re even remotely physical. You can’t stand to kiss me for any length of time. I can feel you just waiting to pull away, like you’re fucking counting down the seconds until it’s over.” You started sobbing. “It’s horrible. Knowing you don’t want me like I want you.”

Jessie took a step toward you and you recoiled. She couldn’t help but think - maybe much like how she had with you times before.

“And don’t give me this whole ‘you’re shy’ or ‘you’re awkward’ thing again. I deserve more than your excuses.” Your voice grew softer. “And it’s not your fault you feel the way you do. You can’t control who you’re attracted to. Sometimes there can be an emotional connection and the physical just isn’t there. I don’t blame you. But I do blame you for dragging this out." You sniffled, wiping agitatedly at a tear that rolled down your cheek before giving her a defiant stare. "So just do what you should’ve done from the beginning.”

“It’s not you,” Jessie started and immediately saw the way you tensed up, ready to argue. She spoke quickly and urgently, her voice pleading for mercy and understanding. “It’s not you. I promise. It’s me - and I know how that sounds. But you were never the problem. I need you to know that.”

You looked ready to explode and Jessie knew it was now or never.

"It's me. I-it's my body. And I've been terrified that you won't accept me," she stammered through, hands to her chest as her gaze remained rooted to the floor. Her lips parted and her shoulders rose and fell as her breathing began to quicken. She swallowed and found the courage to look up at you to see a scrutinizing, but perplexed expression on your face.

"I'm not like you," Jessie said softly, "or most girls. Physically." She held your gaze for a second, to let you begin to process, but to give her time to think as well. She could see you were confused, but you waited quietly for her to go on. "I-I," she started, before stopping to take a steadying breath, her shoulders relaxing as she did so. "I've always been different."

She was slow to proceed and you spoke tentatively, all accusations and harshness now gone.

"What do you mean? How so?"

Jessie swallowed, eyes transfixed on the floor once more. She scratched at the back of her neck so harshly that it hurt.

"The reason I can't be physical with you is because what you would see, and feel," she looked up at you as she exhaled, "isn't what you would expect." She studied you as you processed her words. "That's why I asked you if you'd slept with guys," she finished timidly, embarrassment and shame creeping in despite her efforts.

Your mouth fell open to speak, but nothing came out. You frowned and visibly struggled with what to say next. Jessie's mouth was dry, but she had to take the next step.

"Even though I'm a girl, I have...what a guy has," she said quietly.

Your mouth opened wider to speak, but still nothing came out. You held up a poised finger, cuing her to wait. Eventually you found your words. Jessie held your gaze despite how difficult it was.

"Are you telling me that you have...," you trailed off, your gaze settling on her crotch momentarily before looking up at her, a tinge of pink already on your cheeks, "...a cock?"

Jessie released a slow, shuddering breath through her nose as she continued to hold your gaze. She nodded.

"Yes."

She saw your eyebrows raise as you looked away and her words and emotions just came out in a torrent.

"So if you think I've been struggling, you're right, but that's why," she said bitterly, tears in her eyes already. "It really had nothing to do with you. You've been so perfect. And it's been killing me to lie to you. And to hurt you. But I've been so scared - and I just," she took a shaky breath, "I know I'm not what you signed up for. You didn't deserve any of this, but I was being selfish. I wanted you. And I didn't want to risk losing you, so I just kept lying and the longer I waited, the more impossible it felt to tell you." Jessie's voice broke and she wiped her nose before pulling her arms in tightly against herself.

"And in the end I fucked it all up. And I hate myself for hurting you the way I have. Hearing how I...," she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at you before clenching her jaw tightly. "Hurting you is probably the worst thing I've ever done." Her voice grew high as she fought through her emotions. "And I don't deserve your forgiveness. I would gladly take it, but I know I don't deserve it. You deserve far better than someone who would hurt someone they love the way I've hurt you."

Your brow furrowed as she finished and Jessie swallowed once more, clearing her throat before speaking. "I'm sorry I couldn't say it back the other night. I really wanted to." She gave you a desperate look. "I know it must seem like I have zero integrity, but, I couldn't tell you I love you without telling you," she paused, gaze falling briefly, "all of this." She looked back at you, taking in a slow breath. "I really do love you. And I want so much more for us, but I realize now that even if you were okay...with me...well, with the way I've gone about everything, I've probably ruined any chance for us."

Her face fell as more tears pooled at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I just need you to know that you shouldn't feel badly about yourself, because you were never the problem. It was always me."

"This is a lot for me to process," you said slowly, thumb grazing idly along your arm. You glanced over at the couch for a moment before glancing back at her. "Um, why don't we sit down."

Jessie sniffled, overcome with surprise that you'd invite her in further. It took her a moment to comprehend it, but soon nodded eagerly. She followed you wordlessly to the couch, remaining standing as you took a seat. You looked at her expectantly before gesturing to the spot next to you.

She was mindful of the space between you. She didn't want to sit too close and inadvertently imply that things were suddenly fine. She sat stiffly, back straight, hands on the tops of her thighs as she deferred to you on how to proceed. She glanced at you in trepidation, waiting, but when you didn't say anything for several moments she spoke again.

"I completely understand that this is a lot to process," she validated with a fleeting glance. "While I've been thinking about nothing but this for months, this is all new to you."

"Yeah," you said quietly, still very much in your thoughts.

"And I want you to know that you don't owe me anything," she said. "I completely understand if this is too much for you or not what you want. No hard feelings." She almost laughed at the last statement as she sat here, congested and teary-eyed. There would be a lot of feelings, but not hard feelings. She rubbed her forehead. "And I understand if there are hard feelings towards me. I'm sorry I was such a coward. I just-" she shook her head quickly, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."

She heard you exhale gently and she peeked over at you. You were initially still, but soon shifted, surprising Jessie as you turned subtly towards her.

"Don't get me wrong. I have a lot of questions. And I still have a lot of confusing feelings and hurt. But - I meant it when I said I love you. So it's hard to see you hurting like this." You scratched at your temple before looking up at her. "Did I do something to make it harder for you to tell me?"

Jessie turned to you fully, a stern look on her face. "No," she said adamantly. "You were," she shrugged listlessly, "you really were - are - amazing. I guess I just let old fears and baggage control me."

"What do you mean?" You asked tentatively before holding up your hands and speaking quickly. "And if I ask something that's too much - just say so. I don't want to make you more uncomfortable."

Jessie frowned deeper. "You're too good for me," she said simply. "You shouldn't give a shit about whether I'm uncomfortable or not. But, let me be clear - for once - I will answer any question you have for me. Some will be easier to answer than others, but I want you to know everything. If you want. That's what I wanted all along, but I was just too scared."

"Well, if you love someone - you care about their boundaries and how they feel," you said plainly. Jessie looked at you and you looked away nervously, clearing your throat before turning back. "And. Backtracking. You...love me?"

Jessie smiled for the first time today. It was an emotional, watery, sad smile. But it was a smile. "Yes. I really do. And it's been absolute torture the past couple of days not talking to you - I know it's all my fault though."

You frowned, thoughts almost visibly churning before you set your gaze on her again.

"Wait. But I'm not your first girlfriend. So...was it like this every time?"

Jessie's posture slumped slightly at your question; more-so, the reminder it triggered. That you were the best and she'd treated you the worst.

"No. No, it hasn't been," she admitted as she picked at the fabric of her pants. "I, um, was more open before. And, uh, I guess it backfired. And I've been pretty reserved and nervous about it since."

"Oh," you said quietly, still deep in thought. "But your teammates know, right?"

"Yeah, they all do. Hard for them not to. And they're cool with it, thank God. But otherwise I keep it quiet. It doesn't seem like it, but I'm actually pretty comfortable with that aspect of myself these days. It caused a lot of angst for me for years, but I'm happy with who I am. Relationships though...that's a different matter altogether."

"I'm sorry, Jess," you said gently, pulling a confused look out of her. Again, you shouldn't be worried about her. "That sounds really difficult. That said, do you mind telling me more?"

Jessie turned to you more fully, your knees nearly brushing now. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You were right that I was far from an open book, but I don't want to be like that anymore. I want you to know everything, if you'd like." She shrunk into herself a bit and waved a hand aimlessly. "And just because I tell you these things, it doesn't mean that I think you'll forgive me or something. I understand that, you know, things could end. But I still want you to know."

Surprise flooded Jessie's system as you took her hand and gave it the faintest squeeze, continuing to hold it after.

"Jess. It's okay. I want to know."

She mustered up a tight smile for you and squeezed your hand.

She proceeded to tell you her story. Filling the gaps she'd craftily navigated during previous conversations. The embarrassment she'd felt. The otherness. The ridicule she'd experienced over the years. The rejection. The objectification. And the eventual defeat; of feeling like no one would get her or love her the way she wanted to be loved.

By the time she finished, a new set of tears had finished falling, but what she noted most of all was how you now held her hand in both of yours.

"Baby," you said softly, as you lifted her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jessie looked at you in surprise as she sniffled.

She'd expected the worst, so when you looked at her with warmth and compassion, it caught her off-guard to not see disgust or rejection.

"I'm so sorry you were made to feel like that. You didn't deserve that at all. Some people are so fucking close-minded and terrible. I'm so sorry you had to experience that," you told her.

Her shoulders hitched as she rode out the dying waves of her emotion.

"Thanks," she managed, her voice still congested and strained. "Now you know how hypocritical and truly horrible it was of me to make you feel the way those girls made me feel."

You tilted your head slightly and gave it a slow shake. "No. It's not the same. I mean, yes, I felt terrible, but you weren't trying to hurt me. And now I can understand where you were coming from."

Jessie shook her head in return. "It doesn't make it right though. So...if you let me, I'll do everything I can to try to make it up to you and try to rebuild the trust I've broken. Totally understand if that's off the table though."

"I," you started, chest rising as you took a large breath before relaxing once more, "still love you. So...no, it's not off the table. I still have to process a lot of this and reconcile some things. And, yes, reality is you hurt me, but everything makes so much more sense now. So. Thank you. For finally telling me."

Jessie nodded. "Thank you for hearing me out."

You fidgeted slightly and she watched you carefully. You felt her eyes on you and spoke hesitantly.

"We, um. Didn't exactly address my initial issue though. I mean, I understand now why you've been so closed off and flighty. But, you know, none of this necessarily means that you, um, find me attractive. Because that could still be a problem."

Jessie gave you a disbelieving look. "Of course I find you attractive. Well, okay," she slowed herself down, "I understand why you thought I didn't. But, now that you know everything else, my attraction to you is exactly why I couldn't be remotely physical with you. It was...a bit too much for me. Let's put it that way," Jessie finished as she looked away sheepishly. When she braved a look back your face was tinged pink.

"Oh. Okay. Well..., um. That's nice to know, I guess," you responded awkwardly.

"I'm sorry. That was probably too much information," Jessie mumbled. She cleared her throat before speaking more confidently. "So, no, you have nothing - at all - to worry about there. I think the bigger question now is if you would find me attractive. Now that you know that my, um, anatomy is different."

You blushed deeper and cleared your throat as well.

"Oh. I mean, you're still you. And, I'm curious-" you held up your hands quickly in defense, eyes closing as you corrected yourself, "-not like those other girls. No. I would never use you like that." You opened your eyes once again, calming yourself. "What I mean is. I'm still interested."

Jessie felt an ember of hope flickering in her chest. You were still blushing, giving her fleeting glances until you fully faced her, now serious and prim.

"You get one more chance," you told her firmly, holding up a finger. "I know a lot will be new and there'll be things to navigate, but I won't put up with you being distant and cagey again. Do not lie to me again."

Jessie nearly beamed. She straightened up eagerly and nodded her head rapidly in agreement.

"I won't," she promised before she took a second look at you. "Are you sure you want to try again?"

Your face scrunched up adorably as you shot her a look.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?" You asked, affronted.

"No," she refuted, shaking her head adamantly. "I just want to make sure this is what you truly want. I know I dumped a lot on you just now, so...you are more than welcome to take your time to think. And I definitely don't want you to feel guilty in any way."

"I don't feel guilty," you told her. "And," you exhaled quickly, "as you were telling me about all of your experiences and how you've been treated, all I could really think throughout all of it is that I wished there was some way I or someone could go back and protect you from all of that." You picked at your nails idly. "And, I don't know, that I just wanted to hold you. And kiss you." You gave her another stern look, but it was mild at best. "You're not entirely forgiven yet. But I understand you so much better now. So, I do want to try again."

That heavy, horrible ache in her chest she'd been carrying with her the past while was replaced with a sensation of warmth and lightness.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever met," she told you unwaveringly. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to make things up to you. I'll make sure you never have a doubt about me, or you, or us, again."

"That's a bold promise," you warned with a hint of a smirk.

Jessie smiled at you undeterred. She gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, stopping momentarily to speak before giving you a soft, slow kiss.

"And it's one I intend to keep."

A/N: Next up…smut.

Tag requests: @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp @kathleenmikaelson

[veritasangel]

Pouting over playdates

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none {wc: 621}

↣ i love dad bakugo honestly so yeah

Bakugo had been standing by the front window, his arms folded, staring out into the front garden. His jaw flexed, then a huff escaped him.

You were in the kitchen, half-focused on making lunch, when your husband's very obvious tension became hard to ignore. "Baby, what's wrong with you now?" you asked as you chopped some vegetables.

"What's wrong with me?" he said, complete irritation in his tone. "I'll tell ya what's wrong with me—his kid is here. Again."

You turned your head to the window and out in the garden, your daughter was laughing her head off, playing tag with Izuku Midoriya's son. The two of them were inseparable and constantly ran back and forth between houses.

And that drove Bakugo insane.

"Seriously, Kats?" you shook your head with a smile. "They're just kids, what's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?!" he scoffed, "I'll tell ya what the big deal is-our daughter could be friends with literally anyone else and she picks Deku's brat? It's like she's doing it just to piss me off!"

You couldn't help but laugh at that, stirring the pot on the stove a little before walking over to where he stood. "Oh, come on. She doesn't even know you and Midoriya have this ridiculous… one sided rivalry."

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his arm. "Anyway I think it's cute. They're just like you and Midoriya when you were younger."

Bakugo bristled overtly. "Don't put me in the same league as them. I was never that soft."

You raise an eyebrow, yet still smiling. "Oh? You weren't soft? Should I remind you of how you used to follow me everywhere like a lost puppy?

At the reminder his ears had gone a little pink, but he didn't let up. "That's different," he muttered. "And I didn't follow you. You followed me."

"Sure, Katsuki, whatever you say" you said, grinning, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Besides, you don't really hate Midoriya anymore. You just like pretending you do."

He scoffed, glare returning out the window as your daughter and Midoriya's son ran by, laughing. "Doesn't mean I want his kid here every damn day."

You leaned into his side, resting your head against his shoulder. "You know, I think that it bothers you because she looks so happy when she's with him. Maybe a little too happy for your liking, hmm?

Bakugo's eyes narrowed; his voice hardened. "What're you gettin' at?"

You chuckled, poking his arm playfully. "You're afraid she's gonna grow up and like him the same way I liked you."

He tensed for a second, his eyes narrowing at the two kids in the garden. "Not happening," he said darkly. "No way."

"Relax," you said with a soft, reassuring laugh. "They're just kids. Who knows, maybe she'll outgrow him and decide he's annoying like most girls do at that age."

Bakugo snorted, clearly unconvinced. "Still not a fan."

You reached up, cupping his cheek to pull his face down to yours. "Katsuki, you're being such a softie right now."

He scowled at you, but the flush working its way up the column of his neck gave him away. "I am not a softie."

"Sure you're not," you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "But you know what? Our daughter loves you. And maybe that kid is her best friend now, but you're always going to be her hero."

For a moment Bakugo said nothing, his eyes-so harsh and sharp-softening just the smallest amount as he looked down at you. "Yeah, well," he muttered then, voice quieter now. "I better be."

You smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. "You always will be."

༄ m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[tpwk-formula1]

Omg hi. I just found you and cheered. I have a order.

Lando Norris, Thick Crust, Red Sauce,

Cherry Tomatoes, Root beer, Mango Smoothie,

Aftercare

If you could maybe make it a dizzy, inconcent reader where people flirt with her and she dosnt now and flirts back and Lando thinks the only way for people to leave her alone would be if she pregnant with his child. And he definitely has feelings for her. 🤭

✨️THANK YOU ✨️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thick crust sugar daddy red sauce rough sex cherry tomatoes "I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies" root beer daddy kink mango smoothie baby trapping dessert yes served by Lando Norris

Lando x Ditzy! reader

AN: Okay! So I am so sad that I had to close my requests early but in a week I got over 100 requests which is fucking amazing and I am so happy for them but I want to make sure requests are coming out in a timely manner so I will be completely all requests within the next few weeks and once the Pizzeria is back open it will be a rebrand... So if you have any prompt ideas, kinks, or overall things you want to see get added to the menu just send me a message and I'll see what I can do!

TW breeding kink, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, rough sex, creampie, jealous Lando

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Danny! You can't just say things like that," I laugh loudly with the Australian in front of me. I can feel my cheeks growing red from the sexual joke Daniel just cracked.

I can feel a hand on my lower back making me look over my shoulder to find Lando making my smile grow more before I lean up and place a kiss on his cheek.

"What are you two up to?" Lando questions with a slight edge in his voice.

"Was just telling, Y/N about my summer break," Daniel says with a smile. I watch as Lando's face grows in a smile before he's ushering us towards the bar.

"Don't wander to far," Lando tells me making me look up and smile.

"Okay, babe!" I say when I place a kiss on his cheek.

"Are you okay?" I ask Lando softly making him nod his head before flagging the bartender down and ordering both of us drinks.

As time passed I found myself talking with Charles and Ollie.

"Charles! You'll have to invite me over sometime!" I tell Charles as he finishes telling me how he finally got Leo to stop peeing in the kitchen.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt but I'm just gonna steal her away. We have early morning plans so I gotta get this one off to bed," Lando says randomly interrupting making me raise a brow before trying to speak.

"Say bye," Lando tells me before I can even say anything.

I just turn back towards the two men waving a good bye before following Lando out of the club.

"I literally told you not to wander off," Lando snapped when we finally hopped into our Uber.

"Lando, I could see you the whole time," I reply back softly not understanding why he was so mad.

"Could you? Cause there was a solid 5 minutes where I was wandering around to find you," Lando tells me roughly making me huff and turn my back on him to look out the window.

Lando and I sat in silence for the rest of the car ride when we finally pulled up to his apartment building instantly making me get out and march to the front doors not waiting for Lando.

When we get into his apartment I lock myself in his bathroom still not wanting to talk to him, but eventually I had to face him and when I walked out of the bathroom I was changed into a silky sleep dress while Lando was sitting in bed in his boxers.

"I don't wanna see you entertaining men anymore. You're mine," Lando says not even looking up from his phone.

"Last time I checked, you were the one who was adamant we were nothing more than sex and money," I reply back while climbing into the bed next to Lando.

"Do you see the way you walked into my home like it was yours? How you climb into MY bed like it was yours? The way you have half my closet full of your stuff? That's all because you're mine, whether it has been a discussion or not, you have come into my life and fucked up any prior deal, so fucking sue me if I set a boundary with you," Lando finally snaps back making me look around his room realizing that over the year of us hooking up for money I had basically moved in. I had made his home our home and I didn't even realize.

"Lando, I think we should have this discussion when we are both fully sober," I tell him softly. I knew what I wanted sober or drunk I wanted Lando to be mine but was this just some drunk game Lando was playing.

"No, I'm barely fucking tipsy., I didn't even realize you didn't realize you were mine. I thought it was unspoken," Lando tells me softly before turning towards me and placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"Do you know how many men want to fuck you?" Lando questioned with a raised brow making me laugh slightly.

"Lando, you're the only man who wants to fuck me," I reply back with a roll of the eye.

"You're mine," Lando said moving topics again and pulling me in for a heated make-out session.

I quickly climb into Lando's lap and grind my bare pussy against his briefs making his groan slightly.

"I'm gonna put a baby in you," Lando tells me softly making me sit up and stare at him in complete shock.

"The fuck are you on about now?" I ask Lando before he pulls me back into for a kiss where he flips us over so I am now under Lando letting him grind into me backing me whimper.

"You're mine and when you walk around that fucking paddock in 6 months everyone will fucking know you're mine," Lando said while trailing kisses down my neck making it clear he was marking his territory.

"You're insane," I whisper back but it quickly turns into a moan because Lando is leaning down and taking a soft lick out of my clit.

"Daddy," I moan when Lando starts sucking on my clit while lightly teasing my soaked hole with his fingers.

"Oh fuck," I scream out when Lando slips 2 fingers in and finds my G-spot.

"I want you to cum on my fingers," Lando says while speeding his actions making me feel the band in m stomach start to grow tight letting me know I was close to cumming for Lando.

"Daddy," I scream out when the band finally snaps and I'm cumming all over Lando's fingers. Lando helped ride my orgasm out before he's pulling his briefs down and roughly shoving his cock deep into my pussy.

"Oh! Daddy," I gasp still not fully recovered from my previous orgasm and can already feel a second one building up.

"Fucking hell, so damn needy already gonna cum for me," Lando said with a smirk while bringing his hand down to my clit and giving it a rough rub bringing me closer to the edge.

"Daddy," I whine when I feel myself reach the point of no return, cumming all over Lando's cock with a shout. I was shaking and so long in my own pleasure, I don't feel Lando's hips shutter as he fills my pussy full of his cum.

"I can't wait to watch you swell with my babies," Lando groans with a smirk while slowly pulling out of me.

"Lando, I probably didn't get pregnant from one time," I tell him softly with a laugh falling from my lips.

"I'll fuck you until you do," Lando says with a shrug. That night we fell asleep tangled in each other's arms.

6 weeks later

"Fucking hell," I gasp while staring down at the positive pregnancy test.

"I told you, you were gonna have my babies," Lando said with a proud smirk.

"Lando, what the fuck are we gonna do?" I ask starting to panic.

"Hey, calm down! It's all gonna work itself out," Lando tells me softly while pulling me into his chest.

"I can't wait to see everyone's face when you show up to the paddock supporting a bump caused by me baby," Lando tells me making me laugh lightly.

I knew we would figure everything out. It wasn't how I pictured myself getting pregnant but boy am I happy it's how it happened.

[ivesambrose]

PAC : YOUR AUTUMN BLESSINGS 🍁

1. 2. 3.

May the remaining months of 2024 lead to a favorable plot twist for all of you reading this 🖤

To book a personal reading with me DM or email me at ivesambrose@gmail.com

Services offered

Reviews

Thanks for the tip

Picture 1

• A lot of you will be blessed with foreign travel to a destination that heals this restlessness in your heart. It seems as though you had been fighting against the odds for so long and have also accumulated so much mental strain and grief because you've felt like you couldn't grow where you're at and you're right. You're going to feel the most alive you've felt in a long time. Don't turn down the opportunities that come your way. • Unexpected wealth or income from an unknown or foreign source. • Venturing out of your home or comfort zone. A change in perspective as well. • The sun rising after the darkest hours of your life. It's amusing that it's happening during fall when things usually wither away that you're getting your color back. You may feel like you're Venturing out alone or that your journey is a solitary one. You aren't too bothered because you're so used to it even as it terrifies you. But along the way you'll find people who want to walk beside you even as the cold threatens to sink into your bones. You might just find your soul family this fall. Perhaps home isn't confined to four walls but rather, the people and the places you've yet to step foot into.

Picture 2

• You'll be blessed with finding a balance in your life that earlier was bound to topple over no matter what you did and how hard you tried. You'll confront certain habits and behaviours that you have and actively choose to work through them. Some of them have been hindering your growth and costing you your own peace of mind as well as relationships. • Improvement in health. As well as recognition and reward in your workplace or emotional fulfillment via the work you do or your lifestyle changes. • Heightened intuition and foresight. Trust your instincts over fear mongering from others. • Possible expansion in social circle or connecting with people you can learn from without being ridiculed. You'll be introduced to people or spaces with a more positive outlook to life and circumstances rather than the ones who have a cynical approach to everything. • A better self concept and increase in confidence. Do not allow anyone to walk over you or be little you in any shape or form. • you may also get the confidence or the money to shop for certain fashion items you had earlier been stalling on or might be gifted the same.

Picture 3

• You'll be blessed with something rather abrupt. You may not even consider it as a blessing at first till realisation dawns on you. • I significantly see a blessing that's financial in nature something that will aid you in the long term. You might be too fixated at things going wrong at first. Please don't do that. When the opportunity arrives please have the courage to reach for it and make it yours. You may have the tendency to worry to the point that anything good happening for you is too good to be true. Thing is you tend to be blessed in rather unconventional ways. Certain things you may have quiet literally looked over for months or years. This autumn take some time to reflect on certain aspects of your life and how regardless of what was going wrong or what wasn't 'working out' for you had been in your favor all along. The more you bring in your awareness to that the more of these blessings you'll receive. • A lot of you do struggle with mental health as well as sleep issues. You're rather artistic however but may have kept your arts and crafts aside for a long time. You'll be revisiting things that have brought you joy in the past and feel happy this time instead of feeling performative. • Lastly, allow good things to happen to you.

[cherib3lla]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ; 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

warnings — not proofread :( pet names (baby), complete fluff !!

a/n — this is my first fluff fic/blurb so please give me feedback !! i’ve also seen many fics/blurbs like this so credit to the people who have made story’s like this <33 enjoy!

Chris and Matt had been streaming for more than three hours. Ever since Nick had gone on tour with Madison they've been streaming an insane amount. Not that anyone was complaining. The fans loved it.

They typically streamed until late at night. Starting around six or seven o'clock and not ending until at least ten. Even sometimes streaming twice in one night.

You streamed with them for an hour or two. Playing different games with them until you eventually get tired. That's what led you here, sleeping in Chris’ bed while he and Matt played Fortnite.

This was the second stream of the night. You had fallen asleep somewhere in between streams. Chris and Matt started playing Fortnite for the third time that night while you slept.

Everyone knew how mad that game made them. It was unavoidable. Screaming, banging, and chair throwing surrounded the house. To you, it was never that serious. Just a stupid game that they liked to play.

You were wrapped comfortably in Chris’ blankets. Head between two pillows to try and muffle the sound of everything around you. To be frank, it didn't work at all.

“WHAT THE FUCK MATT. GET OVER HERE.” Chris yelled at the screen. Matt yelled back, you could hear him from upstairs. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT CHRIS!”

You slowly open your eyes, accepting defeat. You are still in Chris’ bed, out of frame. You sit up with a huff, hair messy, and lips puffy. You wrap the blanket around yourself, get out of bed, and walk over to where Chris is sitting at his desk.

“MY FAULT? YOURE THE ONE WHO-” he gets cut off by your soft hand on his shoulder, tapping gently to get his attention.

“Chris, please come to bed it's almost — three am,” you state as you look in the bottom right corner of his computer. Unbeknownst to the two of you the chat was speeding by with ‘hi’s and ‘good morning’s directed to you.

“I'm sorry — did I wake you?” Chris replys. You wanted to make a snippy comment and say ‘Yeah no shit’, but you didn't. Too tired to really say anything anymore. But you did anyway.

“Yes, now can you please come to bed? It's almost three,” you repeat. “Of course baby — go lay back down I'll be there in a second!”

He leans up to peck your lips. You dodge it playfully and turn to walk back to his bed. His jaw drops. Ha couldn't believe you just did that in front of thousands of people.

‘Damn’ ‘LMAOOO CHRIS GOT REJECTED’ fills the chat. He turns back to the computer, saying bye to the stream and Matt. “Bye, guys! Love you all” he throws up a peace sign, logs off the discord, and turns off his computer.

He spins his chair around to see you under the blankets with your phone in hand. He walks over to you, gets under the covers, and pulls you against his chest. “I missed you baby,” he says through a yawn.

“Chris I was literally two fe-” he cuts you off with shushing noises.

“Shhhh — you're way too far away. Now go to sleep”

a/n — hiii, i hope you guys enjoyed!! this is super short but i hope it succeeded your expectations.

tag list — @sturniolos--girl-deactivated202 @m0r94n @lovesodakid @sweetreliever @emssturniolo @slxtformatt @prettylameusertbh @conspiracy-ash @probablyoutyappingorsomething @sturniolosandmoree @https-roman @hoeforchrizz @hvlplvss @idontcare4urmom @submattenthusiast

[seresinhangmanjake]

Hi there! I'm crazy about your stories about Feyd!! Truly brillant!! I've sren your accettino requests...wanted to know if you could a Feyd x reader where they are married and she let him keep the harpies. One day, while Feyd is in a council, reader gets attacked or someone tries to have his way with her and she's saved by the harpies, who kills the man and than take her to their room to care for her, and when Feyd arrives he reward them or something....you choose the endind.

Thankss

Protecting His

Feyd-Rautha x reader

Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. Mention of attempted assault, but it is not detailed. Goes with my His series, but you don't have to read it before reading this. I know this could've been smutty, but idk, the inspiration just didn't take it that route.

Words: 1360

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

“I apologize, my Lady,” the harpy says as she dabs alcohol along the fresh slash on your forehead. “It’ll only be a minute more.”

Your chuckle is a weak breath of air. “You saved me. The last thing you need to do is apologize,” you tell her. 

She briefly pauses her work before continuing. “Our Lord na-Baron will not understand,” she says. 

She’s probably right. Red will be blinding his vision. It’s enough that a guest in your home—an invited guest, a welcomed guest—tried to take advantage of you in a moment when you showed him kindness, but a plethora of additional factors will only heighten your husband’s fury: the fact that you allowed yourself to be alone with another man, even though that was against your intention; the fact that that man touched you and tried to do more; the fact that you’re bleeding because of it; and the fact that Feyd wasn’t the one to protect you, and in his place, one of the harpies was forced to step in. As if they weren’t in enough trouble already. 

He’s been deciding what to do with them for days now, trying to figure out if they have enough use elsewhere to be worth keeping alive, but he’s been coming up short, and you know their fates at the hands of your husband are unlikely to be forgiving. 

They’d been so good for so long, so well-trained after they tried to take a bite out of you—literally—as you slept by Feyd’s side almost a year ago to the day. That act of disobedience cost them each a finger, but from learning their lesson, they eventually became trustworthy enough for Feyd to assign them as your handmaids. And they maintained the position until the unfortunate incident of one of them losing control. 

She tried to take a nibble out of your flesh, and worse, in a moment when you were holding your newborn son. When Feyd learned of this, he lost his mind. Though the harpy acted alone, Feyd banished the three to the other side of the fortress and took the hand of the harpy who tried to have you for her next meal—this harpy. 

You stare at the stump, a bandage replacing where pale, delicate fingers used to be. She’s lost enough. It’s not right that she suffer a lash to the neck simply for being within range of you. It’s not right that Feyd’s rage will have him do the same to the other two. 

“I’ll make him understand,” you promise her as she covers the cut with a strip of tape, and as if on cue, your husband practically blows the door down with the force of a hurricane. 

His eyes land on you and soften with worry at your injured state. They reharden as they find the harpy at your side. “What did she do!” he snaps. 

You quickly rise to your feet, ignoring the dizziness that slightly blurs your vision, and place yourself between him and the harpy. “She saved me.”

He rushes toward her, but with your hands pressing into his chest, you keep him at bay. “She tried to harm you not a week ago!”

“And now she saved me.”

Feyd sucks in a breath through his nose, his shoulders rising and falling, his chest puffing and deflating. His eyes fall to your face. His brow knits as his hands cup your cheeks. He presses a long kiss to your lips, then says, “Are you ok?”

“Yes,” you say. “He would’ve done more if she hadn’t been there.”

“I gave explicit orders—”

“I know,” you intercept. “But would you rather a dead wife?”

It’s a blow. Not a wise one, considering he almost lost you during the birth of your son, but it’s reality. You could’ve died tonight. The man that wanted to hurt you wouldn’t have kept you alive to name him after the fact, whether you’re the na-Baron’s wife or not. He’s much too high-ranking, and without your voice there to reveal his lies, he could’ve pinned the crime on anyone.

Feyd’s hands drop from your face, and during your husband's brief placation, you glance over your shoulder at the harpy. “It’s best you go back to your cell now. A guard will escort you.”

She bows her head. “Yes, my Lady,” she says before she treads lightly around you and your husband to the door. 

Only once she’s gone and Feyd has settled into his seat at the foot of the bed do you say, “Don’t kill her.”

His head snaps up. “You will not tell me what to do.”

“I’m asking.”

“Why?”

You snort. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Feyd crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you teasing me at a time like this? Your life–” His eyelids pinch and he shakes his head. “You could’ve–”

With a sigh, you move to sit beside him on the mattress. “I’m fine,” you tell him. “But you cannot punish her for saving your wife. It’s not right.”

He pauses in his contemplation before he says, “What was she even doing on this side of the fortress?”

“She said she wanted to apologize to me and that you wouldn’t permit it, so she snuck over,” you answer. “You could’ve at least let her do that much.”

“I couldn’t risk it,” he lightly snaps. “I couldn’t risk you and the baby.”

When your hand lands on his forearm, he takes your fingers between his. “And they don’t have to be around us ever again if that’s what you want, but please reconsider hurting them further. They were always kind to me and–”

“Except when they tried to steal you from me to eat,” he reminds you.

“Yes, well, they were more kind than uncontrollably hungry.”

Feyd stares at you long and hard. His thumb rubs back and forth over yours. “You’re serious.”

You give a single decisive nod. “I am.”

—

When Feyd unlocks the cell door and steps inside, two of the harpies skitter across the floor to Feyd’s feet. They paw at the ankles of his pants. One’s head nuzzles the toe of his boot. He pays them little attention, his eyes on the hunt for the one tucked in the corner against the stone wall. She shies away from the blazing ray of his glare. 

“My Lord, we are very sorry for what our sister did,” the first harpy says—the eldest, the tallest of the three. It is most fascinating to see her so low. She tightens her fingers into the pants fabric, but Feyd kicks her off, and her entire body jolts back like a creature freshly injured.

“So very sorry,” the second, who has backed away alongside her sister, mimics.

“Please spare–”

“Hush, I’m not in the mood,” Feyd scolds. 

“Y-You will kill us?”

Feyd finally tears his stare from the huddled harpy to the ones by his feet. “You can pray to the kindness of my wife that I will not be,” he says. “You,” he juts his head back to the other. “You get a reward that I expect you to share with your sisters.”

Her head lifts from where it was resting atop her knees. Her dark eyes widen a touch. 

“A reward?” one of the others says.

“For us?”

Feyd gives a curt nod to the guard behind him, and a moment later, the man who attempted to take you against your will is tossed into the room. Already battered and bruised, he remains face down on the cobblestone flooring. A groan escapes through his lips, but that and the slightly pinkish hue of his skin from whatever blood remains in his veins is all there is as proof of life. 

“A meal,” Feyd says. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

The three glance at the body and then back up at Feyd. He doesn’t say another word as he turns on his heel and signals his guard to relock the cage. He doesn’t look back as the screams begin to echo through the dank halls. He has better things to do, like tending to his wife. It’s been a long day, after all, and she could use the comfort.

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[mxstly-melancholy]

Logan request!!

Logan finally had enough and fucks you the way he’s always wanted putting you in your place then you have to deal with the mansion over hearing him

Everyone’s just happy you guys don’t argue anymore instead your loud in a different way

Logan X FemReader SMUT!!

Warnings: No y/n, fem reader (she/her) , pet names, sub/dom if you squint, arguments, embarrassment, breeding. squirting.. lmk if there is more.

Logan has been super cranky lately, but to be fair, so have you. And this has caused a lot of tension and arguments between you two. You aren’t sure why it’s been this way, it probably ranges from the constant stress of missions to the lack of sleep. Who knows at this point, but everyone including yourself is getting sick of the arguments.

And they’re not even real arguments either, they’re just loud disagreements about stupid small things.

And it seems like today you were the one to start a disagreement..

You and Logan were in the mansion's kitchen, talking about a mission you both came back from. It was exhausting, and the last thing either of you should be doing is having a beer, but here you are..

“I just really don’t think we did the right thing, that’s all I’m saying.” You put your hands up in defense. Logan’s eyebrows drew together annoyed.

“What do you mean? We did the only thing we could do. There was no other option.” He huffs.

You sigh, “Look, all I’m trying to say is we did have other options, they just didn’t come to mind until we literally had no other option but to act on what we did.”

You watched as Logan downed the rest of his beer, annoyance on his face as he sat at the table across from you.

“What’s your deal?” He asks seriously, crossing his arms.

The sudden change in demeanor made your heart race.

“What?”

“You heard me, what’s your deal?” He repeats.

You anxiously shrug and awkwardly laugh. “I don’t understand what you mean. I'm just sharing my-“

“Why have you been so wound tight? Everything has to be an argument with you lately.” He huffs.

Your eyes widen at the comment, feeling attacked almost.

“I'm sorry? You’re putting the blame all on me? What about the ones you caused? Just gonna forget about that now?” You stand up angrily.

Logan stands up and walks around the table, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the kitchen wordlessly.

“Wh- Logan where are we going?” You nervously ask.

He was tense, his jaw clenched as he speed walked to their shared room.

He didn’t reply. Just continued on until they reached their room. He opened the door, almost running inside & locking the door. He picks you up and places his hands under your ass, catching you by surprise.

“Logan-“ you whisper breathlessly. He walks over to the bed and places you down on it, crawling on top of you.

“I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you.” He mumbles, not letting you reply before smashing your lips together. His hands roam over your body, teasing and seducing. You give in, wrapping yourself around him. With His free hand, his claws come out and rips your pants down the middle in one motion. You gasp from fear but also excitement.

He throws the ripped pants off of you, then before you know it his hand is at your heat, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He smirks, watching your face contort to pleasure and desperation.

“Logan… fuck.” You moan. He kisses and sucks at your neck, leaving deep purple marks along it. Your hips buck up into his hand, his pace too slow.

“You want more, huh bub? You gonna stop being a little brat if I give it to you good?” He whispers in your ear. You nod rapidly, your hands clawing at his shoulders.

“Please Logan. Please.”

And with that he sits up, quickly removing his own pants. He pulls his briefs down and his cock springs out, head red and leaking pre already.

Your mouth waters as he grabs your ankles, pushing your legs towards your head, putting you in the mating press position.

From past experiences, this position means he’s not going to hold back.

He rubs his cock against your folds, gathering your slick on him.

“Fuck baby. So fuckin’ wet fu’me.” He nearly growls.

You whimper as he starts to push his way in, tingles shooting up your body. He goans, white knuckling while holding you down by the back of your knees.

He starts to thrust slowly, the wet noises your pussy makes as he thrusts into you makes his cock twitch. He can’t help but have his eyes flutter, gaining a faster pace every minute.

“Logan- please. Fuck- more!”

And with that his hips snap into you and he’s going to pound town. He growls, teeth showing as he looks down at you with possession.

“Mine, all mine.” He grunts, leaning down and biting into your shoulder. You moan loudly, and unfortunately Logan isn’t being too quiet either, you already know everyone can hear you two but at this very moment in time, you don’t care.

“Y-yours-“ you moan back. Your body shivers as you squirt on his cock unexpectedly, adding even more slick to the mix.

“Fuuuck yes, that’s right baby.” He smiles, bringing a hand down and rubbing at your clit while he fucks you.

Your legs shake, eyes closing.

“Uh uh- look at me.” He grabs your face with his free hand. “You better be a good girl after this. After I’ve been so nice and fucked you senseless.” He says with short breaths. You can barely even understand him, the white noise in your ears and the static in your eyes only getting louder as you’re about to cum.

“Y-yes sir- yes- I’m gonna- I need to cum!” You whimper loudly.

With one final slap to your clit you’re cumming hard, clenching around his cock so tightly that his claws retract and push right through the headboard of the bed. He cums hard right after you, a deep guttural growl leaving his throat as he paints your walls white. You hold onto him tightly as he fucks his cum into you, your legs shaking from overstimulation with every thrust.

“Fuuuckk.” He groans.

The morning after, you two leave your room after a shower & getting dressed for the day. You notice Scott smirking as he walks by.

And as you’re walking down the hall, you see people whispering. Logan looks smug as could be, and you were completely oblivious.

“What’s going on Logan?” You whisper to him,

He smiles, “Really?” He wraps his arm around you.

“You have no idea?”

Your face heats up with embarrassment once you realize.

“Oh.. damn it..” you mumble.

Then Ororo walks by you two. “Glad to see you two aren’t arguing anymore!” She smiles.

You stop and hide your face in your hands.

“This is so embarrassing.”

Logan laughs, “Hey, it’s not so bad. At least they’re happy for us.” He clears his throat. “Oh, don’t let me forget, I have to get us a new headboard..”

[always-just-red]

A/N: So I threatened a while back to write MC arresting Sylus since he literally won’t shut up about it. Thought this would be a silly fic but it ended up an angst-driven exploration of how his time with MC is probably finite and ill-fated?? Anyway Sylus is too soft for this, I’m sorryyyy (Sy I love you! I would never do this to you! ‘Didn’t it come from your imagination, though?’ Ssshhhh you don’t know what you’re saying!! 🥰)

To Remain Silent

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus has told you to arrest him one too many times...

Genre: Emotional rollercoaster honestly? Some angst, some comfort (and a lil spice for flavour)

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, vaguely established relationship, gets a little steamy at the end (mostly kissing tbh), artistic licence applied liberally since this would be WAY too risky for MC to actually attempt 😭😭

| Word count: 2.7k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

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

Sylus knows this isn’t real.

You watch him through the glass of his cell, and the subtle tint to it lets you know that he can’t watch you back. He’s sat on the single bench inside, leaning against the far wall, his long legs stretched out before him. His hands are cuffed— tucked away behind his back— but he still looks comfortable. More than comfortable: at ease. At home. Bored.

“You think I can’t feel those pretty little eyes of yours on me?” he mutters, head back, eyes closed. “I’m at your mercy, kitten. Are you really only going to look?”

You tap a button on the glass. “You should start taking this seriously.”

He smiles at the sound of your voice, but his eyes don’t open; there’s still nothing to see. “I’m taking it very seriously, sweetie.”

“I don’t think you are.”

The smile turns even more smug: a confession, all by itself. He sits up and leans forward, like someone who’s found a change of conversation to be interesting. His eyes open— managing to find you, somehow, and— can he see you? No. It’s an educated guess, he’s just selling it with confidence.

Leisurely, he rises from his seat and saunters over to the glass. “Let me see you,” he orders, then bargains: “Please? This is so very—” he toes the division— “one-sided.”

You can’t look him in the eyes, can you? This is hard enough without the windows to your soul baring your heart and your mind to him, like they always do. You should have worn those sunglasses he bought you for that undercover assignment. This is what they’re for, right? Hiding.

With a circular swipe of your finger, the glass before you clears and Sylus meets your gaze.

“Hi,” he teases.

You fold your arms across your chest. “Hey.”

“This is quite some effort you’ve gone to, kitten. And all for me, no less.”

“What effort?” you dismiss plainly. “You practically slapped those handcuffs on yourself.”

It’s not an exaggeration: from the cuffs to the ride here, not a single stage of his arrest has been resisted. The closest he’s gotten to a lack of cooperation was when you’d first restrained and dragged him from his study, where he’d been inclined to point out that the bedroom was the other way.

“Well, I didn’t want to cause a fuss,” he smirks. One of his hands is brought forward, and his handcuffs now hang uselessly from a finger. “Tell me,” he says, letting them swing as he holds your gaze, “what am I to expect now I’ve been so masterfully captured?”

You glance at the restraints, unmoved. “That isn’t for me to decide.”

A door behind you slides open, and— right on time— an altogether more impressive presence joins you before the cell. Sylus glances her up and down as the click of her heeled boots come to a stop; he has never met your captain, but he knows her face.

“You really cashed in all your favours, didn’t you, sweetie?” he observes. He turns to address the woman beside you: “We haven’t been introduced. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Jenna interrupts, her tone as incorruptible as yours.

Sylus’s arm lifts, resting on the glass above you so he can tower over you, despite the partition. “Is that right?” he purrs absent-mindedly, dropping his head so he can speak into your ear. “Sweetie… I thought you could keep a secret.”

He’s goading you into your usual game, but the stakes don’t interest you. “You were wrong.”

You’re at your own table, dealing your own cards. Does he want to play? You think he might. His lips are curving at the delicious prospect of a challenge. You’ve given him a taste of it. He wants more.

Jenna is studying her clipboard, acting oblivious. She senses the impasse. Asks Sylus: “Do you know why you’re here?”

He huffs impatiently. “Enlighten me.”

“Sylus,” you scold.

Red eyes widen a fraction.

You see it.

Good.

…

Sylus thinks this might be real.

You said his name. His real name: the one with sharp, bloody strings attached. The one on all the posters. The one in your precious Association’s archives, linked to stacks of files and crime scene photos, most of which he isn’t even responsible for.

Sylus. You said: Sylus. 

It was worthy of a grand reveal— the sort of plot twist that delivered the suspense of so many thrillers— but here you are, speaking it like it’s nothing. Not a slip of the tongue; not a mistake. And it’s different here. He’s not your Sylus. He’s theirs.

Their murderer. Their monster. Their convenient little scapegoat for everything dark and unholy.

The captain is reading him a list, reeling off every crime— each alleged sin. As if he needs a reminder. As if all the time in the world could ever let him forget. “Needless to say, Mr Sylus,” she summarises, “due to the nature of these crimes, you may prove exempt from our standard procedures. A case like this is… unprecedented. Onychinus has much to answer for. You have much to answer for.”

Sylus hasn’t really been listening; it’s all senseless bureaucracy. “You have the wrong man,” he says, because whatever you’re doing— whatever stunt this is— a confession is sure to derail it. You know that, don’t you? You must be counting on it: holding that guilty breath of yours and hoping he’s smart enough to not be Sylus.

You don’t look worried in the slightest. You must have an awful lot of faith in him.

He studies you, waiting for a small, deliberate smile or a moment of weakness. Give him a sign, don’t give him a sign— it doesn’t matter; he’ll find one. His intentions must be clearer than yours, because you step up to the glass to face him.

Do it, your silence says, even though the rest of you is illegible. You want to look? Look.

His eye could light like a crimson fire— could burn the truth out of you— but it won’t. It’s a promise he made what feels like a lifetime ago, not long after you’d met: Your thoughts and desires are yours to give, not his to take.

Even here. Even now. He’s a man of his word, after all.

Impressed? You smile faintly, but there’s no warmth to it. “Captain,” you speak, your eyes not leaving his, “can you give us a minute? Please?”

“Of course,” the woman answers with a nod.

Sylus does not see her go. He hears it: the retreating rhythm of her shoes. He feels it: it’s just the two of you, alone again. Well, the two of you and that ‘hidden’ camera in the far corner of the room. “Whatever game this is,” he grins good-naturedly, his teeth gritted, “it stops. Now.”

“It’s not a game, Sylus. I told you to take this seriously.”

“What are you doing?” he snaps, and that good-natured grin didn’t last very long. 

Your hands land on your hips. “My job.” When he scoffs, you continue: “Did you really think this would end any other way? After everything you’ve done?”

He laughs and it’s deeply sardonic. He’s no saint— to try to convince you he was would be a crime worthy of punishments far worse than this. But you know him. You know the line and what stands on each side of it: everything he’s done, yes, and everything he’s been made to take the fall for.

You wouldn’t do this to him. Would you? “You want to play pretend? Fine,” he hisses. He wants to wrap his Evol around that godforsaken camera and annihilate it. “You caught the big, bad boss of Onychinus— congratulations, sweetie. Sure. Let’s say that’s who I am. A man like that has power, right? So what’s to keep him— me— from escaping? Right now?”

“You’re not going to leave, Sylus. Wanna know why?”

He’s sure you’re going to tell him, and you do:

“Because you’re all talk. All smoke and mirrors. You want to go? Go. But there’s not a single person in this building who wouldn’t give their life to bring you back. Someone will catch up to you eventually, and what then?”

“I’ll have a lot of fun, I imagine.”

“You’ll do nothing,” you correct. “Because those people out there? They’re my friends. My family. You hurt them? You hurt me. Make all the threats you want, Sylus— we both know the truth.”

He towers over you, still, but it’s hard not to shrink at your next words:

“You don’t have it in you.”

Your eyes are sharp: whetted with resentment. Sylus is your reflection— your worthy opponent, always— but he just can’t look at you like that.

There’s a quiet hiss as you slide a finger over the cell’s control panel. White, neon light carves through the glass partition: two vertical lines that bleed upwards, either side of him, before bending to meet each-other. The glass between them shimmers, then fades.

Sylus stands on the precipice of the doorway, cool air crawling past him. He stares up at the camera, then down at you. Your arms have folded again as you watch him— a narrative of apathy.

“How about it, Sylus?” you ask bitterly. “Still think you can outrun fate?”

“No.” Not since it started wearing your face. Fate is you, putting a bullet in his heart, and him, waking up so you can do it over and over again. Maybe this is real. Maybe it isn’t. “What do you want from me?” he entreats softly, because you’ll get it— either way.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you sneer, and your hand shoots out, grasping a fistful of his shirt. You use it to drag him out of the cell, closer, lower, so that his face is mere inches from yours.

“No,” he repeats. “Say it.”

Your eyes burn like pyres: so dangerous, so beautiful, so suited to being the death of him. “I want you—” you begin, as they flit briefly to his lips— “to tell me…”

“What?”

“How you cheat at kitty cards.”

Oh. Oh.

You’re going to be insufferable about this, aren’t you?

Sure enough, you drop his shirt and burst into laughter— irrepressibly you again. The fire in your eyes has simmered down into something warm, safe, and comfortable, and— gods— you’re even crying. You’re doubled over, holding your stomach as though it hurts. You lift a hand to wipe your wet cheek. “Your face,” you get out between gasps, “oh, your face!”

Yours is not the only laughter, but it’s the only laughter Sylus hears.

“We so got you, Skye!” Tara’s vaguely familiar voice resounds from an intercom.

There’s some confusing static with it— more tittering voices— and Sylus suspects he’s found himself the star of your colleagues’ after-work entertainment. He puts his hands on his hips as he looks up at the camera. “Is the whole office—”

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping away another tear. “Figured it would be good for morale. Good practice, too.”

“Practice?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirm with a hum. You’ve apparently gotten a handle on the hilarity of the situation, because you approach him with something close to composure. Meditatively, you smooth down the fabric of his shirt. Straighten his collar. “For when we catch the real Sylus one day.”

He captures your wrists; that’s a lot of tenderness for someone who just tried to give him a heart attack. Maybe he’s a little too rough, because you pout at him in a way that makes him instantly soften his grip.

“You ok, Skye?” you enquire with an ironic smile and an adorable tilt of your head.

His thumbs are feathering over your pulse points, and slowly, he leans in to deliver a message, just for you: “If I say no, will you make it up to me?”

…

Sylus knows this is real.

His mouth is on yours and it’s relentless, desperate; you made him wait for it. How long has he been wanting to trap you against the nearest wall, just like this, so he can kiss you until he forgets just how cold you can be? 

He’s been very patient. He didn’t roll his eyes or utter a word of complaint when you’d dragged him to join your colleagues for dinner. It was your victory party, your ‘I made you look like an idiot’ party, but he was his usual, charming self, and your friends all adored him for it. They’d spun him the tale of his ‘arrest’— the planning, the preparation, and your lightbulb moment: 

“Hey, guys, have you ever thought about how Skye kinda looks like Sylus?”

Only he could understand how wickedly clever it was. His eyes had sought yours as he listened, lazy, content, and so obviously biding his time. You’d smiled at him. He’d smiled back. 

And he’d stayed smiling, even after the party was over and you’d had to walk a slightly-tipsy Tara home. She’d refused a taxi, insisted Sylus escort her— oh, and you could come, too! He’d lent her his arm: humoured every squeeze and chuckled at each remark about the size of it. You’d had to swat her away, in the end.

“I’m just teasing, y’know?” she’d giggled as the three of you arrived at her front door. “Skye knows I’m just teasing. You’re such a sweetheart, Skye. Imagine! You— the leader of Onychinus!”

She’d laughed, much too loud for such a quiet street, and with a less-than-subtle wink, left the two of you alone. Which is how you’d ended up here, in an alley around the back of her building, because it was Sylus’s turn to drag you somewhere. 

His attentions have moved lower; there’s a subtle clink as his fingers find the clasp of your shirt collar and he peels it back, exposing your neck. His lips leave yours, trailing down, down— past the line of your jaw and over the soft, vulnerable column of your throat. You gasp as he brushes over a sensitive spot, and you could swear you feel him smile.

He’s always been passionate, but this is a different fire, fuelled by something you can’t ignore, no matter how much you want to:

Relief. 

“Sy,” you murmur breathlessly, your hand in his hair, tugging gently. “Sy, stop.” 

“Mmm?” he acquiesces, voice sinfully low as the cold evening air takes his place kissing your neck. His eyes shine like blood spilt in the dead of night— lingering on you. He looks drunk.

You lift a hand to cup his face and run your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Sylus. You know that, right?”

Those dark eyes find clarity with your words, full of apprehension for just how naive you can be. The future will turn on you just as quickly as a wild animal someone boasts about having tamed, and aren’t you foolish, thinking you can control something like that? 

Besides, that’s his job.

“I know,” he says like he’s supposed to— ever the martyr, following the script. He goes to nuzzle into you again, but your hand is still tight in his hair and he groans as you use it to pull him back. 

“I mean it,” you reassert, forcing him to look at you. You don’t care that it’s ridiculous. You don’t care that fate is so hot on your heels that you have to keep running. You’re tired. He’s even more tired.

Isn’t it nice to stop and catch your breath?

Pretend you have time: His gaze is full of faith and oh, the world is going to enjoy punishing the two of you. “I know,” he insists, because this is the second time you’ve fooled him tonight. You feel his hand on your face and you let him kiss you— again, then again— so achingly slow, so arrogant. 

The world can wait; he wants to punish you first. 

“Do you really want to know—” he distracts as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck again— “how I cheat at kitty cards?”

The pad of his finger is chasing the path of his mouth; it tickles. You whine: “Tell me later, Sy.”

“Ok,” he breathes against you.

Later. There’ll be a later.

Won’t there?

[solxamber]

Royal Scandal- Ruggie Bucchi x reader

You're being forced to marry someone to take the throne you've fought your entire life for. Okay, if that's how it is, you'll make sure to choose the one person here that your dearest parents will disapprove of the most.

I really like how this one turned out!

The ballroom was resplendent, filled with swirling silks, dazzling jewels, and a sea of royals from every corner of the world. It was your nightmare, distilled into one room. You stood at the head of the grand staircase, glaring down at the crowd, feeling utterly betrayed by your parents.

You—the crown heir, a skilled warrior, a tactical genius, and the pride of your kingdom—reduced to nothing more than a prize in a political matchmaking game. It was an insult.

“Really?” you muttered to yourself, grip tightening on the bannister. “They think they can push me into marriage to take the throne? They’ll regret this.”

From across the room, the usual parade of suitors hovered about, each one vying for a moment of your attention. They were all here to win your hand, though it was clear many of them weren’t here for you. The throne, the kingdom, the alliances—it was all just a game of power to them.

And then there was him. The only non-royal standing awkwardly by the hors d'oeuvres table. Ruggie Bucchi.

Ruggie was here because of Leona, and Leona was here because Falena had pawned off the responsibility of attending this ridiculous event onto his younger brother. But as usual, Leona wasn’t particularly interested in mingling with anyone. He had quickly made his way to the most comfortable couch in the room, leaving his attendant Ruggie to do all the heavy lifting—literally. Ruggie was managing Leona’s food, drinks, and handling the other guests with a sharp smile that concealed just how little he wanted to be here.

Leona had been an unexpected ally ever since your diplomatic trip to the Savannah, where your banter had somehow sparked an unlikely friendship. Leona, for all his royal airs, had grown fond of teasing you relentlessly, and the two of you exchanged jabs every chance you got.

You've met Ruggie before, during the visit. You knew of his circumstances and a wonderful plan was brewing inside you at this moment.

Ruggie wasn’t a suitor. He wasn’t even remotely interested in this ball. And yet…

Oh, this could work.

A grin began to spread across your face.

The next morning, the grand hall was packed with suitors, ministers, and your parents, all eagerly awaiting your declaration. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a sword.

“Today,” your father began with his booming voice, “our heir will announce their chosen partner. We know that this decision will aid in the prosperity of our kingdom.”

Your mother nodded, casting you a pointed look, as if to remind you of the importance of this moment. Oh, if only she knew what was coming.

You stepped forward, scanning the room with a serene smile. Your heart raced with excitement as you looked past all the anxious, hopeful suitors. Finally, your gaze landed on Ruggie, who stood in the corner, shoving the last of a sandwich into his mouth. He caught your eye, freezing mid-chew.

You raised a hand, pointing directly at him. “I have chosen Ruggie Bucchi.”

There was a deafening beat of silence before your declaration actually registered.

Your parents’ smiles froze, the air in the room turning cold. The ministers paled, their gazes snapping toward Ruggie, who was standing in the back, his next sandwich halfway to his mouth. He blinked, looking over his shoulder like you couldn’t possibly mean him. Maybe there was a “Ruggie Bucchi” that he didn’t know about?

But the world stopped when it hit that yes, you did mean that Ruggie Bucchi—the hyena from the slums of the Sunset Savanna who had no royal blood, no land to offer, no armies. Just a cunning smile and a love for free food.

Leona, sitting lazily on the side, blinked at you before letting out a sudden burst of laughter, the sound echoing through the hall. His usual smirk widened into something truly wicked as he turned to your parents with a shrug. “Well, what did you expect? You did say they could choose anyone in the room, didn’t you?”

Leona, never one to miss an opportunity for chaos, leaned back in his chair and grinned even wider. “It would be a shame if you went back on your word now. After all, it was very clear—whoever they chose, right? I’m sure the esteemed royals wouldn’t go back on a promise they made to their only heir in front of all these witnesses.”

Your parents were speechless, their faces a mix of horror and disbelief. Your mother looked like she might faint, and your father sputtered, glancing between you and Ruggie, who still hadn’t moved from his spot at the back of the room. He slowly lowered the sandwich, looking very much like he was rethinking every life choice he had ever made.

Your father’s mouth opened and closed, his face rapidly turning a shade of purple as he tried to find words that wouldn’t cause a diplomatic disaster. Your mother’s eyes darted around the room, probably searching for an escape route. Meanwhile, the ministers exchanged horrified glances, clearly trying to figure out how to spin this in a way that wouldn’t end in utter embarrassment.

Leona, of course, wasn’t done yet. “You know,” he added, casually inspecting his nails, “a promise is a promise. And from where I’m sitting, it looks like Ruggie here’s your new royal consort.” His eyes sparkled with mirth, clearly loving every second of the madness you'd just incited. “After all, we wouldn’t want to insult the future ruler’s decision, right?”

You could practically see your parents’ souls leaving their bodies.

Ruggie, to his credit, finally stopped gaping like a fish and straightened up, wiping crumbs from his vest and putting on a cocky grin, like he had totally planned for this from the start. “Welp, looks like I’m movin’ up in the world,” he said, swaggering forward, though the slight wobble in his step gave away his shock. He shot Leona and you a glance that screamed, Why are you doing this to me? But Leona just gave him a lazy shrug in response, clearly enjoying the show. And you just grinned back at him.

Your mother finally found her voice, though it was shaky at best. “This… this can’t be—”

“Oh, but it can.” your voice cut through the hall, smooth as silk and twice as smug. “You said anyone. Don’t tell me you’re regretting those words now?”

Your father visibly swallowed, realizing the bind he was in. The ministers were sweating bullets, clearly hoping someone else would step in and stop this disaster, but no one dared to speak. After all, it would be political suicide to go against a future ruler’s decision in front of a room full of witnesses.

Ruggie had now reached the front, his grin widening as he gave a quick, exaggerated bow to you, looking for all the world like a cat that had just caught a very large mouse. “Guess I’m your guy now, huh?”

You flashed him a triumphant smile, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Looks like it.”

Your father, still in a state of shock, muttered something about tradition, but it was too late. The damage was done. You had chosen Ruggie, and with Leona egging on the entire thing, there was no way they could take it back without creating an uproar.

Leona, still lounging like the king of chaos he was, gave you a little salute. “Congrats to the happy couple. Can’t wait to see the wedding.”

Your parents looked like they might faint. The suitors—well, some of them looked relieved to not be part of this train wreck, but others were trying very hard not to burst into outrage. Ruggie just stood there, now fully committed to the bit, his grin as wide as ever.

And so, with your parents begrudgingly forced to accept your choice, the announcement was made. You had successfully thrown the entire royal court into chaos, and judging by the look on your face, this was far from over.

As for Ruggie, well, he was already calculating how much food he could swindle from the wedding feast.

After the uproar finally died down, and the ministers and royals reluctantly dispersed—each with their own whispers and murmurs of the chaos that had just ensued—you managed to pull Ruggie aside, away from the prying eyes of the court. His expression was still a mix of disbelief and amusement, as though he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had just happened.

“Well, that was something,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’ve had some wild gigs before, but to be the royal consort? That’s a new one.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his casual tone, even as the situation around you felt anything but. You led him into one of the side corridors, away from the grand hall, before stopping to face him. Ruggie crossed his arms, clearly curious about where this was going. “Alright, spill it. What’s the deal here?”

You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. “I know that whole declaration just now was insane, but I had to do something drastic.”

“Yeah, drastic is one way to put it,” he snickered, leaning against the wall, waiting for you to continue.

“I’m the only heir to the throne,” you began, the frustration in your voice evident. “I’ve trained my whole life for this. The swordsmanship, the diplomacy, the studies. I’ve done it all. But my parents—” you trailed off, your voice tight with anger, “—they won’t let me take the throne unless I get married. It’s ridiculous. I don’t need to get married to rule, but they refuse to see that.”

Ruggie tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “So, what? You picked me just to get them off your back?”

“Exactly.” You smiled, but it was more cunning than genuine. “They’re too stuck in their ways to listen to reason, so I decided to make them regret forcing me into this. That’s where you come in.”

His ears twitched in curiosity, though the grin on his face was as sharp as ever. “And what exactly do I get out of this?”

You took a step closer, lowering your voice to ensure no one overheard. “I need you to play along with this marriage for a year. Just a year. By that time, I’ll have stabilized the kingdom, taken the throne officially, and you’ll be free to leave. No strings attached.”

Ruggie’s eyes narrowed as he considered your words. “And what do I get in return?”

“The wealth you’ll get out of this will set you up for life. I’m talking more money than you’ll know what to do with. You’ll never have to worry about another odd job or scrape together food again. After this year, you can go back to the Sunset Savanna, and you’ll have enough to take care of yourself, your community, your grandmother—whoever. You’ll never have to work again.”

Ruggie raised a brow, a flicker of interest in his eyes. He was a practical guy, after all, and if there was one thing that motivated him, it was a good deal. “And all I have to do is pretend to be your royal husband for a year?”

“Yep,” you confirmed with a nod, crossing your arms. “Think of it as the best con of your life. We’ll fake the marriage, play the part for a year, and then when it’s over, you’re free to go with a fortune in your pocket.”

For a moment, Ruggie was silent, his sharp gaze studying you, likely weighing the pros and cons of this insane proposal. “So, you’re basically hiring me to be your fake spouse.”

“Exactly.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “You know, this is probably one of the most ridiculous offers I’ve ever gotten—and I’ve been offered some weird stuff before—but,” he shrugged, “money’s money. And if it means I get to live easy after this, then I’m in.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, relief washing over you. “So, we have a deal?”

Ruggie chuckled, extending his hand to you. “We have a deal. But don’t expect me to go easy on the royal kitchens while I’m here. I’m gonna milk this for all it’s worth.”

You smirked, shaking his hand. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Ruggie’s grin turned mischievous as he added, “And don’t worry. I’ll play the part of the perfect doting husband. We’ll give ‘em a show they’ll never forget.”

With the deal struck, you both walked back into the palace, the weight of the future ahead not lost on you. A fake marriage with Ruggie Bucchi—one year, just one year, and then you’d be free. What could possibly go wrong?

Except, somewhere deep inside, you had a feeling that the real challenge wasn’t in the act itself—it was in not falling for the witty, resourceful hyena at your side.

Your wedding was the most extravagant affair your kingdom had ever seen. You spared no expense, throwing the grandest celebration imaginable, just to rub it in a little more. Lavish decorations, exotic foods, and a royal procession that stretched for miles.

Ruggie, for his part, looked both delighted and completely out of place as he stood beside you during the ceremony. He leaned over at one point, whispering, “I’ve never been this well-dressed in my life. You sure we’re not overdoing it?”

You grinned, adjusting his ornate cape. “If we’re going to make them suffer, we might as well go all out.”

The priest, an elderly man with a tremble in his voice, stood before the two of you, his wrinkled hands holding the ceremonial scroll. His voice was deep, reverent, and filled with emotion—entirely too much emotion for the farce that was about to unfold.

You felt a little sorry for him, considering that he was the one who taught you the scriptures and history of your nation when you were younger, one of the only people to see you for you instead of the "heir". But you knew the next part was going to be hilarious.

“We gather here today,” the priest began, “to unite these two souls in the eternal bond of marriage.”

You dared a glance at your parents, sitting stiffly at the front row, their faces a mixture of horror and resignation. The ministers were whispering frantically among themselves, occasionally darting their eyes towards you and Ruggie as if hoping this was all a nightmare they’d soon wake up from. The absolute satisfaction you felt seeing them squirm almost made this whole ridiculous charade worth it.

But the best part? Leona. Sitting at the back, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with the effort to keep from bursting out in laughter. Every now and then, you could hear a muffled snort escape him, and you had to fight the urge to look back at him. One glance, and you’d both be done for.

“And now,” the priest continued, oblivious to the brewing chaos, “the couple will exchange their vows.”

You took a deep breath, turning to face Ruggie. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly with suppressed laughter. His eyes met yours, and you could see the absolute glee dancing in them. This was going to be ridiculous.

You cleared your throat and began, doing your best to sound as dramatic and sincere as possible. “Ruggie Bucchi, from the moment I saw you,” you paused, a wave of barely-contained laughter bubbling up in your chest, “I knew you were the one destined for me. Your… resourcefulness, your… cunning, your ability to stretch a loaf of bread for days… it all captivated my heart.”

Ruggie’s eyes widened slightly at that, and you saw his lips twitch as he struggled not to laugh. You forged on.

“I vow to cherish every moment we spend together, whether it’s in the royal kitchen, watching you devour a feast meant for ten people, or in the court, where I know you’ll always have some… crafty solution to every problem.” You bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face as you added, “I promise to never let a day go by without admiring your thriftiness.”

You finished with a flourish, and the nuns and priests in the room were openly weeping, clutching their hearts as though your “love” had moved them to tears. It was a struggle to not just burst out laughing at the scene. The more you spoke, the more ridiculous it all felt, and you swore you could hear Leona snickering from the back, not even trying to hide it anymore.

Ruggie cleared his throat, taking his turn, his voice as smooth and exaggerated as possible. “Your Highness,” he began, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. “From the moment you dragged me into this—” he coughed, “I mean, the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew there was something special. You’re not like other royals,” he said, the smirk on his face just barely concealed. “No, you’re so… generous. So thoughtful. Offering me all the wealth I could ever dream of—”

You gave him a small nudge with your elbow, and he winked at you before continuing.

“I vow to stand by your side, no matter how absurd the situation.” His grin widened, his voice growing more theatrical with each word. “I’ll be there when the royal chefs burn your food, when the ministers drive you mad with their endless meetings, and most importantly, I’ll make sure there’s always a way out of any mess you get into—royal or otherwise.”

The priest was dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief, clearly moved beyond words by the display of "eternal love" unfolding before him. The nuns were practically clutching their rosaries, and one of the ministers was furiously scribbling notes, perhaps planning to write a memoir about this "historic" union.

But you could feel Ruggie shaking with barely-contained laughter beside you, and you knew he was struggling just as much as you were.

Leona, meanwhile, was not helping.

“Isn’t this just the most touching thing you’ve ever seen?” Leona called from the back, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he stood up and clapped once, slowly. “I mean, who could have predicted such true love would bloom in the royal court? Makes you wonder why we ever doubted them.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and sure enough, Leona’s face was barely composed, his smirk broad as he leaned against the back wall. He mouthed, “Go on, keep it up,” as if he was daring you both to escalate the absurdity.

Ruggie, never one to miss an opportunity, took the challenge.

“And, in return for your endless affection,” Ruggie continued, placing his hand dramatically over his heart, “I swear to be the most diligent husband this kingdom has ever seen. I will work tirelessly—mostly to keep you out of trouble, but also to ensure that you never have to lift a finger. You’ll never have to worry about running out of your precious riches, or losing your crown jewels, because I’ll be there to safeguard every coin.”

He shot you a playful wink before finishing with, “And of course, I’ll always be ready to take off with you when things get a little too… boring around here.”

The priest, overcome with emotion, was full-on sobbing now, while your parents sat pale-faced, probably wondering what cosmic force they had offended to end up in this situation.

The room erupted into applause, and Leona, now clapping with a wide grin, leaned over to one of the younger nobles. “You’ll tell the archivists that the vows were this good, right? Might as well get all the details in there.”

Your parents couldn’t even muster a response. They sat rigidly, eyes flickering from you to Ruggie, to the now entirely tearful congregation. The sight of the priests and nuns weeping, utterly convinced by your "heartfelt" vows, was the icing on the cake. You could almost hear the grinding of your father’s teeth from where you stood, and your mother’s strained smile looked one twitch away from cracking.

By the time the priest finally declared your union, both you and Ruggie were barely keeping it together. The ceremony had transformed into a spectacle of ridiculous proportions, and you weren’t sure if anyone could really tell if the applause was genuine or just out of sheer disbelief.

When the final words of the ceremony were spoken and you were “officially” bound together, Ruggie turned to you with a grin so wide it could only be described as mischievous.

“Well, Your Majesty,” he whispered, loud enough for you alone to hear, “we really pulled it off. But I think I deserve a bonus after that performance.”

You stifled a laugh, giving him a light shove. “Wait until after the banquet. I’ll have them send extra desserts to your room as compensation.”

And with that, the two of you walked down the aisle, the very picture of an odd, unexpected royal match.

Leona gave you both a mock bow from the back as you passed by, still laughing silently to himself as the ministers and nobles exchanged bewildered glances.

The following weeks were a blur of royal duties, much to Ruggie’s bemusement. He followed you around, trying to figure out how he ended up playing the role of a royal consort.

“So,” Ruggie said one evening as he flopped down onto the couch in your chambers, “I gotta admit, I thought this was gonna be way worse. I mean, I’m not exactly cut out for all this fancy stuff, but the food? The food is incredible.”

You chuckled, sitting beside him. “Well, it’s only for a year. Then you’ll be free, and you’ll never have to deal with this nonsense again.”

Ruggie shot you a grin. “You’re counting down the days already?”

You smirked. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, his grin softening. “Honestly? You’re not as bad as I thought. Could’ve ended up with someone way more annoying.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully. “Gee, thanks.”As the months went on, something strange began to happen. The more time you spent with Ruggie, the more comfortable things felt. Sure, it had started as a deal—a way to get what you wanted—but somewhere along the way, the lines began to blur.

Ruggie was surprisingly good company. His sharp wit and laid-back attitude were a refreshing change from the stiff, formal interactions you were used to with the other royals. He was resourceful, quick-thinking, and even though he constantly complained about the pomp and ceremony of royal life, he never once let you down.

Then there was the way he treated you. Not as a royal, not as some prized heir—but as you. He teased you, made you laugh, and shared stories about his home and his grandma with such affection that it warmed your heart.

Speaking of his grandma, the first time you visited her, she welcomed you with open arms. She was sharp-tongued and quick-witted, much like her grandson, and the two of you hit it off immediately.

“Oh, so you’re the one who roped my boy into this fancy business?” she had said with a cackle, patting your hand. “Well, you’ve got my approval, sweetheart. Just make sure you keep him in line.”

Ruggie groaned, slumping in his chair. “Grams, please…”

As the year drew closer to its end, you found yourself dreading the day Ruggie would leave. You didn’t want him to go. You didn’t want this to end.

The anniversary of your marriage was fast approaching, and your stomach twisted into knots every time you thought about it. Tomorrow, Ruggie would be free to go, just like you promised. A year of playing the perfect royal consort, and it would all be over. He’d get his freedom, you’d get the throne.

So why did the thought of him leaving make you want to scream into a pillow?

You paced your chambers like a caged animal, mentally kicking yourself. You were supposed to be a genius tactician. Yet here you were, spiraling into an emotional wreck because of one laid-back, cunning hyena.

The door creaked open, and Ruggie strolled in with his usual smirk. “You’re pacing. Never seen you this jittery before. What’s up?”

You froze mid-step, spinning to face him. Your mind was a mess of conflicting emotions. How were you supposed to say this? Should you ease him into it? Throw him off with a joke? No, definitely not the joke. He’d roast you for it.

Ruggie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, you good? You look like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

You blurted out, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Ruggie blinked. Twice. Then blinked again like he was trying to reboot. “Come again?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you repeated, feeling your palms start to sweat. You took a breath, stepping closer to him. “Tomorrow, you’re free to go, just like we agreed. But I… I don’t want you to. Somewhere along the line, this stopped being just a deal for me. I—I love you, Ruggie.”

Ruggie just stared at you, mouth slightly open like you’d just asked him to wear a ballgown and perform ballet in the throne room. Then he blinked again. “Wait… what?”

You closed your eyes. “You heard me.”

“I think I need to hear it again because there’s no way you just said that,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to get his brain working again.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I. Love. You.”

Ruggie stood there, looking like you just grew a second head. “Hold on, you’re serious?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m being serious!”

Ruggie scratched his cheek, looking away as if he was still processing. “Well, damn. Didn’t expect that.” Then he met your eyes again, his usual grin faltering slightly. “You really love me?”

You nodded, feeling your heart pound. “Yes. And I can’t imagine you not being here. Not as some royal consort, but… just as you.”

Ruggie stared at you for a long moment, before he let out a quiet chuckle. “Y’know… I didn’t plan on this either. This was supposed to be a quick gig, get some cash, eat some fancy food, and bounce. But… well, you’re not like the other royals. You’re kinda fun to be around.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Kinda?”

“Okay, fine, a lotta fun. Happy?” He grinned.

You punched him lightly on the arm. “Not the point!”

He laughed, rubbing his arm dramatically. “Ow, inflicting pain already? But nah, seriously… You’re different. And I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you if I actually left.”

Your heart flipped. “So… you’ll stay?”

Ruggie let out a sigh, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I mean, how can I leave behind someone who lets me sneak pastries from the royal kitchens without ratting me out?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated but relieved. “That’s what you’re staying for?”

He laughed, pulling you into a loose, playful hug. “Nah, it’s one of the perks though.”

You rested your head against his, feeling your worries melt away. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh, you better. I’m expecting a raise and benefits.” He teased, planting a quick kiss on your cheek.

You smirked, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Benefits? What are you, my royal accountant?”

“Hey, I gotta get something outta this deal.” He grinned wider. “And speaking of, I plan on eating you out of house and home from now on. Just a heads up, Your Majesty.”

You groaned, swatting him on the arm again. “That’s already happening, Ruggie!”

“I mean even more now. You’ve created a monster.” He laughed, pulling you closer again, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “But seriously… I didn’t think this would happen either. Us. But I’m glad it did.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth. “Me too.”

As you stood there in each other’s arms, you couldn’t help but think about how far you’d come from that deal. What started as a scheme to outsmart your parents had turned into something real, something you hadn’t expected, but something you wouldn’t trade for the world.

And as Ruggie’s laughter echoed in the room, you realized that maybe, just maybe, plans falling apart wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Well,” Ruggie said, smirking at you. “Guess I’m stuck with you now, huh?”

You chuckled, leaning into him. “Yeah, but admit it—you love it.”

He kissed your other cheek, his voice soft but teasing. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I do.”

And with that, you knew inciting that royal scandal was the best thing you could've ever done.

Masterlist

I don't know why but this is the fic that I like the most out of everything I've written lol it was supposed me like 2k words but I couldn't stop and this was born.

[todoriin]

adore me, hold me and explore me | moze x afab!reader

18+ NSFW, MDNI or i will delete your account, vanilla ass sex, no established relationship, obsessive themes from moze, cunnilingus, p in v, porn no plot

Being Feixiao’s closest advisor means you get to experience various interesting interactions.

Since joining her ranks, you feel as though you’ve lived through countless lifetimes, consulting and strategising with her and Jiaoqiu against formidable foes and expansive armies. You’ve seen the Merlin’s Claw swing her blade and slash countless enemies in half, learnt medicinal techniques from Jiaoqiu that may cure simple illnesses, like the common cold. 

However, the most interesting soul, without a double, is a certain Shadow Guard of the Xianzhou Yaoqing, one you have the pleasure of working with most intimately. Figuratively and… literally.

There’s a creak coming from the windows of your bedroom, the hinges wincing softly as they’re pushed open gently but too wide to be an action of the wind. At this stage, you’re no longer surprised by the stealthiness of the intruder, after all, you had purposefully left the windows open, waiting for the moment an intruder who could coat himself with invisibility would show up. 

Besides, it’s nearing dusk, he promised he’d visit then. 

“Good evening, Moze,” you greet, back turned to him as you look in the mirror, swiping balm over your lips before puckering them. 

A breath of satisfaction leaves you when he finally materialises before you, purple haze clouding out around his silhouette, revealing the usual, skin-tight attire he opts for daily. It’s a shade you’ve grown to love now, seeing it everyday (and taking it off for him a few times a week).

“You look nice,” he comments, words curt but sweet. 

You omit to tell him that you didn’t doll up because you doubt he’ll live longer with that information. “Thank you,” is all you say, smiling up at his reflection. Then, a cold hand comes up to your neck, fingers resting over your pulse as he traces your skin, eventually snaking back to fix your hair.

“The lipstick you wore today also looked nice,” he mumbles, meeting your gaze with his piercing one. 

You turn around in your vanity stool, swinging your legs over to the other side of the seat as you look up at him. His hands move up slightly to cup your jaw, indiscernible eyes gently admiring your features as you look up at him. Here, in your home, he can unwind, a skilled assassin let in to a haven too safe for him and the blood on his hands.

That’s why you’re perfect for him, because you know how to slice a man’s neck and leave him begging for more.

“Did you like it, Moze?”

He’s silent as ever, opting to just play with the strands of your hair. There are moments when Moze is silent because he does not wish to speak, but there are always thoughts circulating in that head of his, you realised that a year into the job when he started providing a sarcastic retort whenever he could. This time he’s silent because he doesn’t know how to respond, rendered speechless as you blink up at him. 

It’s an honour to render a man like him speechless, but you still want to have your fun.

“So quiet, I’ll take it as a no?” You ask, rising from your chair and walking past him. An arm snakes itself around your waist before you could get too far, tugging you right back against the chest of the Shadow Guard. “Use your words, Moze.”

“There are no words worthy enough to describe your beauty.”

Your mouth drops slightly as a sudden shyness creeps up your expression, an uncontrollable smile that you can’t hide behind your hands tugging on your lips. “Smooth talker,” you retort, pushing his chest lightly, but he hardly budges. 

You’re used to being the one to initiate all the conversations, as well as ending them.

“The day must have been treacherous. I’ll make some refreshments for you.”

Just as you turn to go downstairs, he’s once again tugging you back against him. This time, he leads you to the edge of the bed where he sits down with you standing between his legs, now a head shorter than you. Your positions have switched, now it is you running your fingers along the hood he keeps on his head, looking down into his multi-coloured eyes.

“No need for any of those,” he denies, “I am well.”

“Are you sure? No tea, snacks?”

“I have no desire for any of those, only you.”

You look away from him, bashful from his flirtatious words that he says in that serious tone of his. Seriously, how can he say that with a straight face?

“Okay, fine. You can have me,” you mutter and a phantom of a smile appears on his expression, eyes glimmering when you finally give him the indication he’s been waiting for. The thin strap of your top is being dragged down your shoulder and you shudder when he hovers a ghost of a kiss over your pulse point, getting flustered when you then feel him smile against your skin. “Please don’t tease.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” in an instant, your chest is bared to him and his hands creep up to explore the expanse of your body, touch gentle but purposeful, as if he was sculpting your curves himself, careful not to ruin you with any rogue or unwelcome grazes. “I’ll reap what’s mine.”

Then, he yanks your shorts off and cups the back of your thighs. A yelp leaves your lips when he suddenly switches you around so that you are now sat on the edge of the bed, and he, awaiting on his knees before you with hungry eyes.

There’s no time to think because all of a sudden, his mouth is on you, infiltrating your most sensitive part and the whimper that leaves you cannot be held back. You don’t know when your leg got on his shoulder, but it grants him more access as his tongue licks up a slow, torturous swipe up your entrance. 

“Moze!” You exclaim, legs twitching as if trying to kick him away, but he immediately holds you down you, an arm wrapping around your thigh to keep you there. 

You’re his target after all, he won’t stop until he’s through with you.

“Be good and take it,” he says against you, pressing a kiss to your clit before sucking and you gulp at the sensation as filthy sounds fill the atmosphere. No matter how many close nights you’ve experienced together, you’ll never get sick of him, grip inhumanely tight to keep you still as you beg for mercy, but the feeling of his mouth is too sweet to push away. The apex of his tongue circles the nub as his spare hand crawls up, collecting the slick from your entrance before two fingers intrude, breaching your walls. 

When he curls them, you know you’re done for, falling against the mattress to try and deal with the onslaught of pleasure that Moze knows how to inflict. It keeps coming in waves and waves, and neither his fingers or tongue lets up. You didn’t even realise you were crying until you felt tears drop down your face and onto the sheets. 

He’s pumping into you, briefly curling and scissoring his fingers, and his ministrations on your clit go from suckling to tracing shapes with the bud; a cruel torture that eventually results in a buildup of tension in your lower abdomen. 

You warn him about your incoming orgasm with a shrill cry of his name and a babble of words that loosely resembles a sentence, and the only thing he says in response is:

“Let go, pretty.”

So you do, mind becoming cloudy, hazed with nothing but the feeling of pleasure. Moze has now swapped his mouth and fingers, tongue lapping up everything you give him, licking you clean whilst his thumb rubs your clit in circles, trying to prod more out of you; a routine choreographed for your demise.

“Perfect,” he murmurs against your core, letting you come down from the high as he presses a few kisses up your stomach. 

His hawkish eyes watches as your expression untwists itself, no longer contorted by overwhelming pleasure. He can’t help the way his gaze then drifts to your chest, how it rises and falls hurriedly, still trying to regain your breath after he stole it. 

Your reverie is interrupted when you feel his tongue licking your entrance once again, folds pulled back by his fingers to bare more of you, and your nerves flinch at the sensation of pleasure enhanced to the maximum. “Moze! Stop!”

He obeys, pulling away immediately, serious expression unchanged save for the little glimmer of disappointment in his eyes.

“Next time,” he gruffly promises. 

Wrapping both of your thighs around his waist, you’re maneuvred further up your mattress by the assassin, completely helpless in his grip as he moves you however he wants. You would not have wanted him to stop anyways. 

Nimble hands shed his clothes and you unabashedly admire the sight between your legs, eyes so brave to wander across a scarred body that none others will get to lay their eyes upon. You trace the curve of his defined torso, how the shadows and light dance along the crevices, enhancing his already-impressive muscles. You leisurely run your gaze further down, following his abs to his cock.

Red and leaking with precum. 

It was intimidating when you first came face-to-face with it, and whilst you’re still impressed by his size, he’s taken care of you through the process every time, walking you through the pain and adaptations whilst being completely patient with you.

You want to prepare and take care of him like he had with you, so without thinking, you reach out and begin stroking him exactly how he likes it and a grunt passes by his lips, composure faltering ever so slightly.

There is no other Moze would bare himself like this to and, as a sign of his own twisted desires, he wants you to think the same of him. He wants you in ways he cannot justify, especially the part of himself that drips with violent and obsessive tendencies.

Should he get too close, he fears he will devour you when neither of you are expecting it.

Although, recently it seems that Moze allows himself to indulge in pleasures that he hadn’t permitted before, and as his hand wraps around your wrist to stop your ministrations, he can’t help but smile at the small pout that graces your lips. Rubbing his erection along your cunt, your slick coats his underside whilst his hand leisurely travels around your torso. Your supple skin hasn’t seen the severities of the battlefield, hasn’t fought and handled the brutality of men and blades like he has; the distinction between the two of you almost makes him seem like a monster.

A monster who wants to hide you from the darkness in which he lives in. 

“What are you grinning at?” You ask from under him.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, lowering his face to yours to press delicate kisses on your skin and you shift impatiently, eyelashes fluttering and hands clenching into fists. 

He notices the subtle action, takes it as sign of desperation that he wants to devour and dissolve into his veins, as if keeping a part of you with him forever. Aligning his cockhead with your entrance, your moan is unrestrained when he finally breaches your walls.

Slowly, Moze bottoms out, hands holding your hips to press you flush against him as you squirm. He doesn’t mind the way you wriggle around trying to adjust to his thickness and length, he’ll patiently hover above you, pressing soothing kisses along your face whilst staying as still as a shadow.

Even as your walls twitch and clench, he doesn’t budge, refusing to move until you are ready for him to. In a way, being connected with you like this makes him feel closer to you, and it brings a sense of peace that he cannot find elsewhere.

You are the source of it, the centrepiece of all his desires and he cannot swallow you down anymore. 

“I’m okay now,” you whimper.

He reels his hips back, almost pulling out before slamming right back into you and you cry loudly. “You sure?”

“More, Moze, please don’t be cruel to me.”

Cruel? He wouldn’t dream of it.

Setting a bearable pace, the room is filled with a cacophony of moans and continuous ‘plap, plap, plap’s of skin meeting skin. You are still the centre of his vision, eyes hardly straying away from your expression and body, keenly watching every microreaction of yours. He notices the way you shut your eyes tighter when he angles a particular way, cock breaching the most sensitive but pleasurable parts of you. 

It’s insatiable, his appetite for you. The only thing he wants to do is bring you to endless highs, over, and over, and over again.

Gradually, his pace speeds up over time, violating your insides with the neverending push-and-pull. Every time his hips snap back to meet yours, cock buried to the hilt, you feel the strands of your sanity slipping away. All you can do is babble his name and whimpers of how good he feels, hands reaching blindly for any part of him that you can hold.

He dives right into your open touch, torso leaning down to now hover directly over yours and the added heat of his body temperature makes you feel even more lucid. His shoulders are so broad, the planes of his chest defined, and stomach so toned that it drives you insane with desire; added with his precise strokes and thick cock, you don’t ever want him to leave. You don’t ever want him to stop. 

“Moze-” his lips are pressed against yours, swallowing the moan of his name and every other small noise you make as his member relentlessly spears you. 

He kisses you again and again, never straying too far, but parting often to let you catch your breath. 

“Moze, I’m-” you cry out in between kisses, “I’m gonna-!”

“Me too,” he gruffly responds, “relax for me, you’re clenching too hard.”

His words have the opposite effect because next thing you know, you’re cumming again, spasming around his cock as his strokes try to lure more out of you, draining you for all you’re worth. When you’re done, all of your nerves are fried, limbs weak and unable to hold themselves up for long without any support, but Moze hasn’t come yet, so all you can do is take his desperate and hurried strokes as he catches up to the last bit of pleasure.

Then, he comes to a halt whilst hot ropes gush into your cunt as he twitches inside you. Suddenly, his teeth latch on to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark. 

You catch your breath in unison, waiting for him to finish completely before moving again, and when the final load is emptied, he’s capturing your lips in a kiss again. It’s hot, and your muscles feel like jelly, but he’s still desperate for more of you despite being as humanly close as possible. 

So, only moments after both of you have descended from the peak, he begins moving again, gently shushing any of your protests with a light kiss that breaks down your already weak defences. 

The squelches and plaps this time are obscene as he slowly eases in and out of you, grinding weakly whenever your walls twitch around him, but none of it is enough to quell his desire.

And he won’t stop until he has his fill. 

© todoriin 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site

[sophrosynesworld]

Katsuki Bakugo would literally rather die than let another man handle something as simple as installing a garbage disposal.

Like, imagine your kitchen sink is dripping, and instead of bugging your lovely boyfriend for the hundredth time, you decide to hire a professional. I mean, the guy's busting his ass every day; the last thing you want to do is inconvenience him with is your household repairs, right? Seems considerate enough.

But the second he finds out you called someone? Oh, fuck no. You barely have time to explain before he's landing outside your house, marching into the kitchen, toolkit in hand. Suddenly, it’s not about the sink anymore—it’s about his pride.

"What do you mean, you called some random guy to fix it?" he snaps, wrench in one hand. "You don't just invite strangers into your home."

You shrug, trying to stay calm. "Well, you’ve been busy, and I didn’t want to bother—"

"I don’t care if I’m up against the biggest villain of the century; you call me!" he snaps, already crouched down and grumbling about how professionals don’t know shit.

Katsuki insists on doing it all himself, but you’re nicer than that. So, being the kind soul you are, you take on the role of flashlight holder. All those years of helping your dad with repairs is finally paying off, as you keep the beam steady, illuminating the sink while Katsuki works.

“Make sure you shine it right here,” he says softer, tapping his finger against the pipes.

"Thank you, baby," you reply when the job is finally done, but instead of a warm smile, your boyfriend shoots you a look.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, pushing himself up off the floor. "Just don’t pull this stupid crap again."

[cinematicreid]

for a moment

the one where Spencer reminds reader to slow down.

wc 651

warnings + the rundown: bau!reader, fluff, soft!spencer, i love him, literally can’t live without him, what a sweetheart, mentions of reader getting shot, but nothing explicit, feelings!, yikes!

a/n: can’t beat short and sweet and cutesy. feedback always welcome, come say hi to me i think you’re all so cool!

~

Spencer’s eyes may as well have laser beams shooting out of them with the way his gaze is glued to you. You attempt to focus on the task at hand, securing the Kevlar vest to the upper half of your body and completely ignoring him. But this has been happening for almost two months, ever since your incident, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Give it a rest, Spencer, you’re driving me crazy.”

“I know! I’m sorry, just — will you please let me —”

You let out a huff of exasperation, giving up.

“For fuck’s sake,” you mumble, and then more loudly, “Fine.”

Your hands fall to your sides in surrender as he quickly moves toward you and reaches for the vest’s fasteners.

A child. He’s making you feel like a child.

You hear Morgan chuckle from the other end of the police precinct’s tiny conference room, as if he can read your thoughts. You’re about to shoot him a death glare when you’re interrupted by Spencer sharply tugging a strap too tight.

“Reid,” you hiss.

“Don’t start,” he interjects over your complaint.

The incident in question was, of course, an accident. It wasn’t like you had intentionally put your vest on in a rush. There just hadn’t been enough time (which was not a proper excuse, as Hotch had gently but firmly reminded you later), and the loosened straps meant the vest moved around more than it should have when you were running, and the UnSub’s bullet found your side all too easy to graze.

It was stupid, really, but it was one time and nearly two months ago.

None of this was enough to ease the seemingly permanent furrow in Spencer’s brow.

It started as small, albeit irritating, reminders to double-check your vest, which you initially laughed off. But it had now escalated to taking the task entirely off your hands.

Spencer finishes with a final tug.

“Happy?” you ask him flatly. He lifts his concentrated gaze to meet your annoyed one.

“I could do without the sass. But yes,” he says, his shoulders visibly lighter and more content.

“It’s like watching a dad get his daughter ready for Take Your Kid To Work Day,” Morgan teases, rushing out of the room before you can hit him with the closest object at your disposal and leaving just you and Spencer. He rolls his eyes at the poor joke and gently takes said object from your hand.

“I don’t think a pen is going to do much damage,” he says. He loosens a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

You regard him for a few seconds, a small part of you melting at the undeniable softness in his eyes, which are so vast and deep you could stay there forever.

You get it.

It’s the thing about this job. How it forces an eternity to become temporary. How, in 20 minutes, you’ll be hunting down the bad guy but for now, what can feel like forever if you wanted, you’re only here with Spencer.

It’s all fleeting. Your little “incident” had only served as a reminder of that.

And so, Spencer had to take care of you in this way. You both knew that.

“You don’t need to be,” you offer him. He avoids your gaze and you nudge his shoulder with your hand. “Spencer, I’m here, yeah?” That earns you a gentle nudge back and the hint of a smile.

“I know. I’m here, too.”

And here is everywhere and nowhere and, perhaps most importantly, together. A beat, or maybe a forever passes before he speaks again.

“If this were Take Your Kid To Work Day I’d be the worst father in the world.”

Just like that, he’s back and you’re back with him.

Fleeting.

“I am so getting him back for that,” you mumble, making your way to the door. Spencer’s laugh as he follows behind you is all you can hear.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

flu season | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: monkey's sick with the flu and she refuses to admit it, putting her own life in jepordy.

pairings: reader!monkey x leah williamson x reader!buddy x arsenal wfc

You’ve always been too stubborn and being sick definitely wasn’t any different, today certainly wasn’t any different not when it was the first game of the new season.

You weren’t going to let the dumb flu stop you from playing football.

Even if your head was currently pounding and your body ached a ridiculous amount, of course you weren’t going to say anything about it.

“Is that yummy, bubba?” Leah had her attention focused on Buddy, who was making a sticky mess eating pancakes, “Look at your face. It’s a good job we’ve got time for a bath before we head out.” She laughed.

“Bath!” Buddy squealed, clapping her hands excitedly before shoving a piece of syrup-soaked pancake toward your mouth, “Monkey, ‘ou want some?”

You grimaced, shaking her head in disagreement, “No thanks, Buddy,” The sickly-sweet smell of maple syrup was too much to handle right now, “You can keep your pancakes to yourself.”

“Try!” Buddy was still determined to get you to eat some of it.

“No I don’t want to,” You murmured in disagreement.

“Bubba, Monkey doesn’t want to share your pancakes. You just eat them, okay?” Leah gently tells your favourite little buddy.

“Okay Mummy,” Buddy pouted, her little face looking sad and you hated being the one to disappoint her.

“You feeling okay, Monkey?” Leah asked, concern etched on her face as she’s watching you slumped over at the table and trying to force your own breakfast down your throat, “You don’t look that good, my girl.”

Lifting your head up from the table, you can already feel your eyes beginning to droop shut again, “Oh yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” You murmur, trying to project a confidence that you certainly don’t feel.

That’s a complete lie, you’re anything but fine right now.

Leah furrows her eyebrow in further concern, “Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” You insisted, a half-hearted smile creeping onto your lips, as if that would convince the both of you.

Leah wasn’t buying it though apparently, “It’s okay to admit that you’re not feeling well,” Leah reminds you gently, walking over to you as a trick way to try and rest the back of her hand on your forehead but you flinch away from it, “If you’re feeling ill then it’s okay. You don’t need to pretend you’re fine, you know?”

“I’m fine,” You dodge her wavering hand and fake another smile as you know exactly what she’s trying to do, “See? Totally fine.”

“Monkey,” Leah sends you a weary look.

“I’m fine, Le!” You continue to insist and get up from the table, “I’m going to get ready anyways. First game of the season, exciting right?” It literally felt like you had mustered all the energy you had for that, but you were pretty convincing if you do say so yourself.

“Okay,” Leah exhales a sigh, shaking her head and allowing you to wander off upstairs to get ready, knowing you better than you think and knowing there was definitely something wrong with you.

The car ride to the training ground was a chance for Leah to try and get it out of you again as she wasn’t ready to drop it, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright, Monkey?” She pressed for an answer.

It didn’t take a genius to notice that you weren’t definitely not feeling your usual cheeky self nor did you have a pep in your step like normal. You were far less erratic when it came to things.

That was the first telltale sign that you weren’t feeling well at all.

The second, the visible beads of sweat coming radiating off your forehead.

“I told you I’m fine, Le. Stop fussing over me, will you?” The snap in your voice was unintentional, but the constant questions were grating on your nerves.

You’re fine, you are– It’s just the flu. It’s not a big deal.

Leah glanced over, her concern deepening, “I’m just looking out for you, Monkey. I just want to make sure that you’re not putting yourself in harm,” She paused as she pulled up at a set of traffic lights, “Think about your health, my girl.”

“Told you that I’m fine,” You argued, feeling defensive.

You weren’t missing out on the opportunity to play in the opening game, even if you did feel completely miserable.

“Are you really?” Leah’s voice softened, but the worry still remained.

“It’s just a cold, Leah. I can still play,” You tugged your hoodie over your head, ignoring the way the dizziness washed over you and you pretended to be fine.

The last thing you want right now is Leah fussing over you, or worse, pulling you out of the match.

You just had to convince her that you were fine but that was difficult when the blonde was practically watching over you like a hawk.

You’re not missing out on this one. No way!

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah murmured, cautiously aware that you playing today wouldn’t be a good idea at all, “Why don’t you just give this one a miss? It’s just one game.”

“NO!” You exclaimed, not meaning to come across as abrupt as you said it, “I mean… I have to play, I have too– I’m not letting anyone down!”

“You wouldn’t be letting anybody down,” Leah stated, in a gentle but firm tone of voice, “Your health matters first, Monkey. Everybody will understand if you’re sick.”

“I’m not missing it and you can’t make me!” You shouted, making a beeline to escape the car once you arrived at the training grounds before Leah had even had a chance to stop her car, “So back off!”

“Monkey! Get back here, we’re not done with this conversation yet!” Leah shouted, enraged as she quickly turned the ignition off on the car, “Monkey!” She repeated.

You completely ignored the way your head pounded or how your limbs felt like they were weighted down with sand, along with the slight tremor in your hands as you made your way over to your best friend, Kyra who had joined during the summer transfer window and the two just hit it off straight away.

“What’s got Leah looking so annoyed?” The young Australian questioned, confused as she spotted the blonde looking less than pleased, “I mean she always looked slightly annoyed, but what did you do this time?” She joked.

“Nothing it doesn’t matter,” You murmured, trying to ignore the pounding in your head and force yourself to stay standing up.

“Alright, so are you ready for today?” Kyra’s loud voice caught you off guard, swinging her arm around your shoulder and you couldn’t help but stumble slightly, “First game of the season today!”

You winced at the loudness of her voice, “Ky, could you maybe not speak so loud?”

Kyra furrowed her eyebrow and looked up and down, “You don’t look so good there, mate,” She noted, “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” The lie rolled off your tongue, even though your body was screaming otherwise, “It’s just a little cold, Leah wants me to not play in today’s match but she’s overreacting about it.”

“Monkey!” Speaking of the devil and she shall appear, Leah walked over to you with Buddy in her arms, dressed in a full kit of this seasons’ jersey with a large puffer coat over the top to protect her from the unpredictable English weather, “We weren’t finished with our conversation.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were done,” You feigned ignorance to the conversation, trying to block her out since she would just keep trying to change your mind about playing in the game.

Not on your watch were you missing it.

Leah clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Unbelievable,” She muttered in disbelief as she placed Buddy down to toddle over to Lia when she had spotted her,  “We’re not done talking about this.” She said in a firm tone of voice.

“Wonderful. I look forward to us finishing it,” You deadpanned, avoiding Leah’s watchful gaze as you tried to engage in conversation with Kyra, Alessia and Vic, “So, who’s excited for the game?” You tried to pretend to be excited, but your energy felt even further weak than before.

You weren’t missing this game, not at all.

You were lucky enough that Leah decided to make her own way to the stadium with Buddy in her car, it meant you were able to escape the hawkeye watch.

At least you were for now until you arrived at the Emirates stadium ahead of kick off.

By the time you arrived at the Emirates, you felt completely wiped out as you made your way inside and it took all your energy to even muster a smile and wave at the staff around.

“Are you alright, Monkey?” Alessia caught the way you stumbled getting off the bus and looked at you concerned.

“I’m alright,” You murmured quietly and tried to pretend like you were indeed feeling fine.

You were the complete opposite of “fine” right now.

“You don’t look fine,” Kyra chipped in, her own voice filled with concern as she draped her arm around you to help keep you standing up right, “You’re literally swaying right now.”

“I’m alright,” You repeated, still trying your best to convince yourself more than anyone else, “Please don’t say anything right now, I’ve literally had to convince Le I’m fine and if she hears me admit it then she’ll make me miss out on the game.”

The Australian girl continued to look further worried, “But you’re sick?” She questioned.

“Shh,” You were quick to place your hand over her mouth to stop her talking any further, “I’m fine, I’m completely fine, Ky.” You told her.

“Alright,” Kyra said, reluctantly agreeing with you as she kept her arm wrapped around your shoulder, “But you should probably avoid Leah if you’re trying to convince her because right now you look like you’re about to drop down right here.”

“Yeah,” You murmured in agreement, lacking the energy to be playful like usual.

Well that would have been easier to do if she weren’t standing there as part of the welcoming committee, although you couldn’t help but smile in awe when you see Buddy standing beside her and holding her hand out, copying Leah’s exact actions with the players.

Your favourite little buddy certainly was Leah’s mini me, looks and mannerisms completely.

“High five, Monkey!” Buddy chirped excitedly, vibrating with excitement as she bounced on her toes.

Kneeling down slightly, you winced as you felt the aching shoot through your body as you exchanged high fives’ with the 2 year old, before having the task of standing back up and trying to not stumble and go dizzy again.

“Monkey,” Leah greeted you with a kind smile, very much aware of the cameras’ on display that would no doubt be featured somewhere, “C’mere my girl.”

You knew exactly what she was doing when she enveloped you in a hug but there was no way to escape it and there was no way you could get out of this one.

Leah was quick to rest the back of her hand against your forehead and frown, “Monkey, you’re burning up,” She stated, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to play.” She said, her voice low to not gather too much attention around her.

“I’m fine,” You pulled away from her and flashed a fake smile before continuing to make your way in the direction of the pitch to go and inspect it, dragging Kyra along with you.

You had been incredibly excited about this opening game, it was special with thousands of fans flocking in to witness it.

“Look at the pitch,” You heard Katie’s loud voice as she walked past you, and it made you wince in pain.

Was it really a good idea to play? Sure, what’s the harm that can happen?

“Let’s go girls,” Kim led the team out onto the pitch to begin the warm-ups ahead of the game while the absent players were sitting on the bench and mingling between them.

You were sauntering out of the tunnel when Leah caught hold of your wrist, “Monkey,” She began while giving you a firm look, “You and I both know that you’re sick and playing in this game isn’t a good idea.” She stated, promptly.

“Who’s sick?” You attempted to play dumb, pulling your wrist out of her grasp and making your way onto the pitch to warm up with the rest of them,  “Told you, I’m fine. See? I’m just peachy.”

Joining the team to run the drills, you pushed yourself to keep up even when your body begged you to slow down. You could feel the sweat trickling down your back and the light headedness was slowly starting to creep back in, but you refused to acknowledge it so you could continue to warm up.

You weren’t about to let anybody down today.

During every single drill, you could feel your body protesting more loudly but you had to keep the facade going, grinning through it all.

You weren’t about to be seen as weak, especially not today.

“Is she okay?” Beth questioned in concern, apparently she was able to see through your act, “She doesn’t seem like her usual self.” She added, noticing the slow pace you had while taking part in the drills with the rest of the team.

“She really doesn’t,” Viv piped in as Buddy sat on her lap and excitedly chatted her ear off.

You felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over you but you tried to shake your head and clear it– You’re fine, you just need to push through it.

Apparently, everyone else could see the facade that you were putting on.

“Monkey’s sick and she’s being stubborn apparently,” Leah exhaled a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she continued to keep a watchful eye on you, “I didn’t want her to play, it’s not a good idea, but of course she’s very much against the idea.”

“Of course she is,” Beth murmured, shaking her head, “Can’t you do anything about it though? She’ll listen– Maybe you could tell Jonas and he can make the decision to bench her.”

You tried to keep pushing on, keeping up the pace with your teammates but you’re slipping.

Ten minutes in and you can feel it– the fever, the exhaustion, the weight of your body dragging you down.

“Or there’s Kim,”  Viv chimed in, gesturing to your Captain who’s not too far away from where you stood.

It happened so fast, one moment you were sprinting down the pitch and the next, your legs gave out way beneath you and you collapsed onto the grass, the cold ground grounding you and everything fading into darkness.

“I guess so– Oh my God, Monkey!” Leahs’ eyes were frantic as she bolted up from her seat, watching the moment that your legs gave out beneath you and sent you crashing to the ground.

“Monkey!” Lia is the nearest to Monkey as she panicked and dropped to her side before her eyes scanned around looking for Leah, “Leah! Over here!”

“Get the medics, now!” Kim shouted, the panic laced in her own voice.

“Monkey!” Leah rushed to your side as she crouched down beside you, “Monkey! Can you hear me?” You felt her strong arms lift you off the ground, “I’m here, I’m right here, my girl.”

The world slowly came back into focus and you could see Leah’s worried face staring right back at you, “I’m fine,” You mumbled, but it sounded weak even to you.

“Fine?” Leah couldn’t help but scoff and shake her head, “No, I told you that it was a bad idea, I knew you were sick and yet you didn’t listen. This is very much not fine!” Her voice still remained firm but she couldn’t help but be worried, watching you collapse was enough to make her panic.

“I don’t see the big deal, I’m fine,” You murmured groggily, attempting to push yourself back up, “I can still play, I just… I need to get my breath back.” You added.

The medic team ran to your side and began to do checks to make sure you’re fine, and you didn’t hit your head or anything too serious.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Leah told you, holding you firmly down, “I don’t think so, look I know you want to play but it’s not a good idea and I mean that this time, Monkey.” She insisted, her grip strong and reassuring.

“No, Leah! I can’t! The game–” You wanted to argue and tell her you’re fine again, that you can keep going but all that comes out is a weak cough.

Your head felt like it was on fire and the cold air against your skin sent a shiver through you.

“You’re not playing,” Leah repeated, firmly as she lifted you up into her arms and carried you back to the bench, “You’re burning up, forget about the game. You’re sick, and I’m letting you get any worse.”

“But Le,” You attempt to talk but lack any energy to try and argue your case, your body has already given up as you curled up on the bench, feeling small and defeated, “Okay.” You reluctantly gave in.

Leah pulled off her own coat and draped it over you like a blanket, “Sit here, don’t move,” She paused as she brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, “I’m going to grab you some water and have a word with Jonas.”

You hate this– You hate feeling weak, hate that you had to miss out. That you let yourself get to this point.

“I’m fine to–” You muttered, trying to sit back up and protest against the idea.

“No, don’t even think about it,” Leah interjected, shaking her head, “God, how can you still be this stubborn even when you’re sick? I want you to sit here and not move, alright?” She said, pointing her index finger in your face.

“Don’t worry Le, we’ll keep an eye on her,” Beth piped in from where she sat on the other side of you on the bench, “Go talk to Jonas, it’s fine.”

Leah flashed her blonde friend a grateful smile, “Thanks, Beth.” With that, she wandered off to find your coach and left you on the bench with Beth, Viv, Buddy.

“Monkey, ‘ou okay? You fell,” Buddy’s innocent eyes looked concerned as she tried to crawl over to sit on your lap, despite your curled up frame, “Hugs make things better!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Buddy,” Viv was reluctant to let Buddy attempt to climb over you, understanding how weak you might be feeling right now along with the whole fact of Buddy not getting sick either.

“Ow,” Buddy pouted and it broke your heart to see her look so upset.

You let out a cough and it wracked your whole body, “I can… I can still play. I’m fine, see? It’s just a cough,” You tried to insist that you’re fine, while attempting to try and stand up again as you felt a sense of determination that you weren’t about to miss the game.

Beth saw straight through it and pushed you back down into your seat, “Hey, no. Take it easy, Monkey,” She paused, “You’re definitely not in any fit state to play today as much as you want to.”

“I don’t want to let anyone down though,” You murmured, feeling the disappointment for not being there for your teammates.

Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and wrapped her arm around you, “You’re not letting anybody down, kid. You can’t help being sick.”

“I feel like I am,” You quietly admitted.

It’s not too long before Leah walks back over to where you’re sitting, “Right, I’ve had a word with Jonas and he’s aware you're not able to play today,” She informed you, handing you a bottle of water to drink, “Here you go my girl, drink this please.” She instructed, taking a seat beside you on the bench in the free spot.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered a quiet apology, you had kind of been horrible today and all because you were so stubborn to admit when you were sick and not able to play.

“It’s okay my girl,” Leah pulled you into her side and brushed the hair away that was stuck to your forehead, “I just don’t want to see you get any worse, alright?”

“O… Okay,” You reluctantly gave in to her words and kept yourself tucked into her side.

“You’ll get better in no time, there’s plenty more matches this season,” Leah promised you, “But you would have really been putting yourself in harm's way if you had played today.” She added.

“I get it,” You murmured, hoping the lecture was over but you were definitely mistaken there.

“This is serious, Monkey,” Leah continued to tell you, “I know you might feel like I am nagging you, but this could have been so much worse than it was.” She said, reminding you the seriousness of how bad it could have been– She was right there.

“Do you?” Leah asked, raising an eyebrow,” Cos’ I really don’t think you do– Your decision was reckless and irresponsible, you could have hurt yourself. What could have happened if you hit your head when you collapsed?”

“I know, I know,” You bit your bottom lip and felt immense guilt for making everyone worry like they did, “I know it was a stupid decision and I’m sorry that I did that.”

Leah exhaled a sigh, sympathetic for you feeling so miserable, “Right, how about we head home now then?” She suggested, gesturing for you to try and stand up, but your body definitely felt too weak to even move right now.

Shaking your head, you stayed seated on the bench, “No… No, I don’t wanna go home– Can we stay and watch the match, please?” You asked.

“Monkey,” Leah began, debating the decision in her head, “You’re sick and you need to be at home resting, being here isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s the first game of the season–  It’s important,” You plead, you didn’t want to miss it even if you were feeling like you had literally been run over by a double decker bus, “Please?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Leah furrowed her eyebrow and shook her head, “You’ll feel better if you’re at home. You can watch the game at home, we can probably catch most of it on telly.”

“I don’ wanna go,” Buddy insisted, managing to successfully climb onto Beth’s lap and tuck herself against her, “Wan’ stay, Mummy!”

“There’s no harm in staying to watch, Le,” Beth spoke up as she gave her opinion, “Monkey’s hardly able to move right now and if worse comes to the worst, she can just curl up and sleep here on.” She joked, gesturing to the way you had all but tucked yourself into Leah’s side and your eyes were drooping shut.

“Stay,” Buddy repeated.

Leah exhaled a sigh and gave in, “Fine, alright, but as soon as it finishes, we’re going home,” She paused to look at you, “You need to rest and get better.”

“Alright,” You smiled faintly, despite the overall exhaustion you felt.

“Why were you so insistent to play today when you feel so terrible, huh?” Leah kept her arm wrapped securely around you, “You scared me when you collapsed in the way that you did.”

“I’m sorry, I thought I could push through it and I would be fine,” You continued to lean into her, too exhausted to put up the fight anymore as your body wracked with coughs again, “I didn’t want to let the team down. I didn’t want to miss out.” You mumbled, your words slurring together as the fever pulled you deeper into exhaustion.

Leah exhaled a sigh and shook her head, running her hand through the strands of your hair, “You can’t help anyone when you’re like this, my girl,” She told you, “Next time, listen to me, yeah? I’ve always got your best interest at heart, delightful teenage attitude and all.” She joked.

“What fun is that though,” Sick or not, you can't help but be your usual cheeky self as you smirked at the blonde, “God, my body aches– I feel horrible.” You admitted out loud.

“And that’s you finally admitting you're sick, I’m shocked,” Leah joked, ruffling your hair and you didn’t even have the energy to growl or protest like usual, “Something tells me this is gonna hit you hard this week, eh?” She murmured, making the mental note to drop a text to Jordan to arrange the alternative option for Buddy to stay with her to avoid ending up with both of them sick.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[yutarot]

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

twenty-six — however hard it may be. wc: 0.8k

(written section is below)

“i love this song!!!” jungwoo yells over the scream of ‘stereo love’ blasting from the speakers. you’d already been at the party for an hour, and jungwoo was still yelling ‘i love this song’ at every single damn one that played.

“honestly, one day, that man is gonna realise that haaland does not give a single shit about him.” yuta laughs, huddling into you, johnny and kazuha in order to speak quieter and you still hear him.

“he’s right, jungwoo really is trying wayyyy too hard” johnny says, and you turn to him with a dead expression, panning your eyes down to his ‘i love haaland’ t-shirt.

“righttt….” you reply, and johnny shrugs innocently. “i’m gonna go grab another drink. anyone want refills?” you ask.

before kazuha can reply to tell u she wants another, jungwoo comes charging through the middle of your group, arms drunkenly slinging over yours and yutas shoulders as he sings the words of ‘auld lang syne’, very wrong and very out of pitch.

“oh shittt.” jungwoo yells as he looks at you, his half drank cup of cherry vodka now decorating your very expensive and very white dress. “i’m so sorry!”

you laugh, telling him it’s okay and lying that you can simply wash it out, which eases his very incessantly loud yells of apology.

you wait for him to drag yuta, johnny and kazuha back up near the speakers before you silently slip away to the kitchen to grab a towel to dry yourself.

but your journey to haalands kitchen is short lived, as a hand clutches your arm, pulling you into what seems like a coat closet, the door closing behind you.

a very small, very dark, coat closet.

and there’s someone stood, very close to you.

“i was right. you do look beautiful.”

you recognise his voice immediately.

“it’s literally pitch black in here, jaehyun.” you bicker.

“i saw you earlier, before jungwoo spilt half a cup of cherry vodka down your dress.” he laughs at the mention, drawing your attention back to the wet fabric seeping into your skin and far from the thoughts you were having before.

you can’t see him, but you can feel him. his arms by his side, his chin just above your forehead and his eyes, baring into yours.

you’re very aware of where your bodies are. and you’re very aware when his hand begins to trace the curve of your jaw before pushing the loose strands of your hair from your face, gently brushing the nape of your neck as he moves your hair to the side.

his touch is barely there, but you feel it.

he clears his throat to speak, but there’s nothing he can say to define what this moment means to him.

but all you can think about is the nagging in your head.

speak to him, ask him, now.

“jaehyun?”

“hmm?”

“i need to ask you something.”

his hands drop from your hair, falling instead to the door handle.

your hand goes over his, “what are you doing?!” you whisper-yell.

he laughs. “chill out, yn, the kitchen is empty, we can talk there.”

you’re hesitant to comply, but you’d rather be in there than in the close proximity of that god-forsaken coat closet any longer, as much as the butterflies in your stomach wish for you to stay.

as you get to the kitchen, you finally find a towel, beginning to pat yourself down.

jaehyuns eyes are on you, full of amusement and something beyond.

something you are so incredibly unsure of.

you set down the towel. “you wanted to ask me something?” jaehyun asks.

“oh right.” you nod. “the way you feel about me, it’s not in a relationship kind of way, is it?”

he’s silent for a few moments, leaning back with his elbows on the counter, his fists clenching as he thinks of what to say next.

“no.” he replies.

so you were right.

he doesn’t want you, for you. he just wants to sleep with you.

you’re just another one of his one night stands.

you can’t say you expected this, all his struggle with telling you how he feels, all his words as Y.

and it was all just so he could sleep with you.

you don’t want him to elaborate, but he does. “i’m not ready for a relationship yet, yn. not just with you, but with anyone. you can’t be mad at that, can you?”

he’s right, you can’t. if he’s not ready, then he’s not ready.

but a pang in your heart is the only thing that follows.

and there is nothing that you can do.

nothing but the simple act of acceptance.

so, you accept it.

however hard it may be.

mlist — next

notes; sorry guys… pls don’t hate me…anyways! 4 chapters left im so sad i dont want it to end but i also can’t wait to start ride or die f1 jeno is actually killing me 😊😊 also the notes on that is insane thank u sm?????? i will NAWT let u guys down🙏

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