#first of all. hi. i'm not leaving <3 but.

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Hi there! I have a request for a ff if you’re still taking suggestions. I would love to read a ff of Azriel x Mate!reader and they decide to keep their relationship private from the IC, (Maybe because of the whole Elain situation, I’ll leave it up to you!)and maybe they have a little baby aswell! And the IC end up finding out and want to get to know Azriel’s family. Sorry if this is so bad, feel free to ignore if you hate the request xx

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A/N: Hi Love! I'm so fucking sorry for how long this request took me to get too! I genuinely love it but it took me forever to decide which direction to go in I swear I rewrote it like four times so I hope you like the version I ended up with! Thank you for request <3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1584

Warnings/Tags: Angst, IC Fighting, Rhysand lowkey painted as bad guy (but it's only for plot don't come after me that's my husband.) Happy/Hopeful Ending

Summary: Azriel has hidden his daughter and mate from his family but an accidental run in in Velaris ruins it all.

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The door to my shared bedroom with my mate opened with a soft click. Yet I knew he was coming the second he set foot in our home. The spymaster himself purposefully made his footsteps loud enough for me to not be startled and yet not too loud in case I was resting. 

I had been sleeping a lot during this pregnancy. The physical aspect of carrying our second born is much harder than carrying our first, and I was barely pregnant. I forced my eyes open in the dim room, wanting to lay my sight on the male that had captured my heart entirely no matter how tired I was. 

Azriel smiled softly when his gaze met mine and he quickly and quietly put his coat away before sliding under the massive amount of blankets I was buried under. “Hi.” I murmured my voice raspy from sleep as Azriel adjusted us so that I was halfway laying on his chest, one of my legs thrown around his and the slight baby bump barely poking him in the stomach. His hand's immediately finding my belly and resting there.

“Hi.” He whispered back and I immediately tilted my head to look up at him at the slight shift in his voice.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, concern layering my tone. 

Azriel just huffed a sad laugh under his breath as he gave me a rare smile. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “My observant little mate, you know me so well. Did I wake you?”

“No you didn’t. Azriel, tell me what’s wrong?” I panicked pushing myself up further so I could look at him properly. Something was…off about him. From the exhausted way he carried himself to bed, the way he had tugged me impossibly close and breathed me in as if it was his last time. 

I knew he had spent the whole day with our daughter before dropping her off at my sister’s for a sleepover so I could have a peaceful night but the way he was acting- especially after the hurt I’d felt from him early in the day only to have him shut me out-

“Nothing’s wrong my love, everyone’s safe and ok.” Azriel assured me, repeating the words over and over again until my breathing evened and he placed a comforting kiss on the inside of my wrist before holding my hands close to his chest and pushing me to lay back down all cozied up next to him. These hormones were going to kill me.

“Ayanna and I ran into my family this evening.” Azriel started and my chest cracked open. No wonder he was so sad. Azriel loved and cared about his family deeply but ever since we’d met he’d taken extra care to make sure I stayed hidden from his family.

Rhysand had used Azriel’s own loyalty and respect towards him to make him leave the middle Acheron sister alone and it had completely broken him. It had only cemented the self doubt running rampant through his mind. Adding another layer to his hardened and yet sensitive heart. 

It had shattered the new couple before it even started and Azriel had vowed to keep his High Lord’s orders to himself despite the devastation it caused to himself and Elain. Elain was almost as good as my mate in hiding her emotions but not nearly enough and Azriel had cursed himself even further. Because in his mind he was the monster that had crushed the innocent girl in his brutally bloody hands. 

I had worked a lot with Azriel over his insecurities and self doubt. The male had barely even touched me when we first met, terrified he would scar another beautiful thing but I had coaxed him out of his shell and his family was something I could never really talk to him about, he shut down and went to a dark space that took days to get him out of. 

In reality Azriel was terrified you’d be taken away from him, ordered halfway across the continent, just one day waking up and you and your beautiful daughter would just be gone? And there was a chance it could’ve been Rhysand’s fault? Or his own?

He loved his family, he loved his brother’s with every fiber of his being. But in the end his terror won, old wounds speaking louder than logic because he couldn’t handle it if there was even the slightest possibility Rhysand made the only good thing disappear from his life, because Gods he wouldn’t survive it and the world around him would shatter under his wrath. 

I traced my fingertips underneath Azriel’s shirt, trailing soothing touches down those muscled abs until he came back to me. Clearly stuck in his own head. “How’d it go?” I asked. 

“Horrible.” His voice cracked and my heart ached at the sound, mating bond screaming at me to do something other than just snuggle in bed. But I knew Azriel just as well as he knew me, instead of pressing him for more information I placed a gentle kiss on the juncture of his throat as he stared at the ceiling. He’d talk when he was ready.

A few minutes passed by until I heard the pain in his deep voice echo around the room again. “They were…angry. At me once they figured out Ayanna was my daughter. They were hurt and asking me why I didn’t tell them-” He paused, swallowing. “The look on Cassian and Rhysand’s faces-” 

A few tears rolled down his cheek. The only other time I’ve seen the Shadowsinger cry was at our mating ceremony and the birth of our daughter. I brushed them away with the pads of my thumbs as he continued. 

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. The betrayal on every single one of their faces. Ayanna was just confused of course, tugging on my shirt and hiding away. The shadows hid her from view and it only worsened the situation. Cassian accused me of not trusting him. I just felt so…ambushed so I let down my shields and threw everything I’d been feeling at Rhysand and Feyre.”

“I didn’t even stick around to hear the aftermath. Just went to the park for a few hours with Aya to cool down.”

“Nesta found you?” I presumed. The Lady of Death having grown quite close to my mate in the House of Wind. He nodded, continuing the rest of the story. Apparently Feyre had shared the information with the family and had promptly yelled at her mate for a few hours. 

They’d all been hurt and angry at Azriel, at each other, and at Rhysand. Cassian and Mor having been the most bent out of shape, stinging even worse with how close they were.

I offered to talk more about it even as my eyelids were unwillingly drooping lower and lower. He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around me and giving me a strong kiss before he ushered me back to sleep once again. 

——————————————

A soft knock echoed throughout the house and I left the tea table,, leaving Azriel to enjoy the outrageously sweet tea my daughter had made, she obviously got her sweet tooth from him. 

“I’m assuming your Cassian and Mor.” I said by way of greeting as soon as I pulled the heavy oak door open. I knew the Inner Circle would come crawling out of the cracks after a few days and it warmed my heart to see and meet some of Azriel’s closest friends. 

“And you’re my brother’s mate.” Cassian breathed out, Mor still finding her words next to him. “The one and only.” I joked with a small hand flourish that did nothing to defuse the tense air suffocating us. Grief etched into the fae’s very faces. “Can we come in?” Morrigan asked clearing her throat. 

“Are you here to fight with him?” I questioned in return. A wince crossed over Cassian’s pained face. “Gods no, we just- we want to talk.”

I smiled softly, it was time for my mate to reunite with his family, to fully be present with them and stop hiding behind his indifferent facade. “He’s playing with Aya in the kitchen.” 

Cassian practically rushed inside as soon as I opened the door wider, the male wearing his heart on his sleeve and I could see how much this entire ordeal affected him. Mor stepped in the threshold with more caution, taking a deep breath as she faced me.

“Rhysand and Feyre would’ve come you know but-”

“But if you bombard Azriel then he’ll shut down and pull away?” she chuckled half-heartedly, sparing a longing glance in the direction Cassian had gone. “Sounds like Az.”

“He didn’t want this to happen, none of us did.” She whispered softly. I knew she was talking about the High Lord and I nodded in understanding even though Rhysand and I would definitely be hashing it out later. “I know.”

Mor took a steadying breath and walked by, allowing me to finally shut the front door. Before she rounded the kitchen she turned to me once again. Pulling a brand new plush teddy bear out of whatever pocket realm she kept it in. “For Ayanna. Whenever you and Azriel are ready for us to meet her.” 

I smiled, taking the gift and following the blonde into the kitchen, I knew without words that Azriel didn’t want to properly introduce our daughter until everything was resolved with his family despite the accidental meeting yesterday and I gave the fae’s their space. He’d already sent the three year old upstairs and I gave Azriel a quick kiss on the cheek before making my way up there as well. 

[intromortal]

✷ LIQUID SWEETENER ⸻ sim jaeyun

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care, fingering, praise, degradation (use of slut like once? and pet), he's mostly very sweet tho i promise, oral f!rec, squirting, mentions of free use, multiple orgasms, quick aftercare, jake comes untouched he's down bad sorry ! ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ oneshot ⸻ 5.2k words

✷ NIA — i finally got around to rewriting this omfg. this rewrite is for my sweet @heechwe and all the nonnies who asked for this to be posted again <3

It's not everyday Jake gets to take care of you, so when you're all sickly and weak, it's hard to evade his attentions no matter how hard you try.

Jake pouts when you shoot down yet another attempt to get you to take your medicine. "Why don't you just chug it? I promise it's not as bad as you think."

He’s been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin.

"If it's not as bad as I think, why are you suggesting I just chug it?" Your voice is slightly muffled as you eye him suspiciously from under the heavy cover pulled up all the way to your nose.

"You're the one insisting it's disgusting without even trying it, I asked for the best flavor possible when I got it." He made sure to pick out a syrup that doesn't taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he can picture it right in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again—which you wouldn't agree to take anyway.

For how much you hate being sick, you seem to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighs, resting the cap filled to the brim with honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge. He licks whatever residue is left on his sticky fingers. "Really not that bad. It's sweet."

"So it's not good either," you huff back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep. "I'm not even that sick anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jake looks at you with an arched brow, then points his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding grounds for bio terrorism allegations.”

He stops you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispers against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

His plump lips thin into that gorgeous wide smile of his as he speaks,“but you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?”

He knows very well what you mean, and a frustrated grumble spills out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wants you to say the quiet part out loud. Neither of you is used to going without pleasuring each other for long periods of time, and anything longer than three days is eons according to Jake. You're surprised he's behaved as well as he has this past week, you thought he would be the one to cave in first.

“Want…more,” you crank one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slips in it. You blink a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observes you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake has to be completely honest with himself, he's not particularly sad at you being a little sick. 

Sure, it sounds mean when he says it out loud, but you're not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoys doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl has a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work. 

You're always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoys knowing he's helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he's making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprays on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake takes notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it.

Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licks away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick doesn't help, being physically weak and needing rest doesn't stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you have nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupts your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You look up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he's about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you're pretty sure a boulder just crushed you right on your chest. You groan, turning to the other side so you can properly sulk without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you'd love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice is muffled by the pillow currently squished against your face.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me.” You grab the sides of the pillow and push them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles. 

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he whispers, and the loving tone makes your body feel light.

You suddenly push yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement. “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too misses your touch, far more than what he lets on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions. He often found himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom, trying not to wake you up because he knew if you caught him he wouldn't be able to get out of your claws.

And you really need the rest.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you add, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake is thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever get like this, and he enjoys every second of it. You can tell because he's pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. On any other occasion he would've been all over you before you could even finish your sentence. But Jake doesn't care, not when he doesn't know when the next time he gets to hear you beg a little for him is gonna be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he says. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” You glare at him with all the fake anger you can muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words die in your throat as you feet the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee.

"No, no. Keep talking." He slowly gets under the covers, and it's not because he's testing your reaction. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

You try to hide the way you gulp, eyes still fixed on his body as he gets comfortable on his side, facing you.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispers against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he sneaks an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his chest. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reach for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guide it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you grind against it.

"I suppose you've had enough rest."

You take notice of how his breath hitches in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you use his hand. The illusion wears off even more when he tries to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You know he wants it just as bad as you do, you're just willing to beg for it as long as it gets you what you want.

“I’ll—” you gasp when he flexes his fingers that tiny little bit you need to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” his voice is light and airy as he moves the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickles your neck, Jake’s mouth dipping down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whine, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

Had you not been so deprived of Jake’s touch, you would have found the way you're grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you're desperate, so you can't bring yourself to care too much about how pathetic you probably look to anyone else.

The only people in the room are you and Jake anyway, and he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it. His cock is stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you are through your shorts. Dripping already and he barely touched you.

"You're so fucking hot. You know that?" Jake nibbles the shell of your ear, making you arch further in his hold. “You'll do anything you said? How about you take your medicine then?” He moves his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak attempts at clawing his arm to get the little taste of pleasure he took away from you back.

He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimper, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little piece of shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sings in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nod, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound could make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh comes up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smooths over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbles, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your scent. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole and soaking your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slides under your shorts,and a gasp leaves you because of how cold he feels. Jake is always warmer than you, but your fever makes it so his touch feels icy against your skin. Your back arches slightly when one of his digits parts your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggles into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly drags them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually, his stupid little jokes would’ve made you groan and push his face away. But this time—blame his voice for being deeper and hoarser than normal, or blame your fever—it makes you clench around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he takes his sweet time playing with you, savoring the moment.

Your head digs deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathes into your neck and goes back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he can reach.

A yelp leaves your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you closed shooting open when Jake bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smooths over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, the pleasure overriding anything else. 

Jake finally prods two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction is instantaneous, cunt fluttering against his fingertips right away. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake is so fucking turned on, he can barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind is get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He feels like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life is just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seems different to him, almost animalistic, from the way you rut your hips against his hand as soon as he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, to the way you aren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this is just from his fingers, he can do so much worse.

You yourself aren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you help Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you feel from the fever. His fingers are so long, hitting all the right spots you know you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles drag against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasp when he turns his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knows has you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room is filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You can feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashes on you, heavy and almost painful. You claw at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake is not facing you anymore.

He looks at the comforter, over his shoulder. The cap filled with syrup is still there amidst the mess. He twists his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he's fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spill onto his shirt as he takes a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tries his best to hold it in his mouth. You're still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty to the point you don't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend is providing you with.

“J-Jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabs your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure you've learned means it is time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he know you to be. And you do just that; immediately following his movements like he trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure.

He bends down slightly to aim better, but this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expect, he lets small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly try to back away from him, but he holds you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor does he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand holds your jaw open, grasp getting firmer every time you try to break free from it. After all, you made a promise, and Jake's going to make sure you fulfill it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouths against your lips once he makes sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashes his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss but a silencing of any complaint you're about to spit at him. Those turn to even more whines when he finally brings his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucks you to your orgasm. It's almost instantaneous, you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth, but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slow down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too relishes in how your cunt pulses around his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh, he wishes it was his cock being constricted like that instead, but that can wait.

You finally feel like you can breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you possibly can, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets are drenched around you, and you can't even pinpoint when it happened, but you can immediately tell you aren't the only one who made a mess. Your gaze wanders to Jake’s pants, and a very evident stain on his crotch catches your attention. And fuck, if you aren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looks absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste, truly.

You sneak your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake lets out when you wrap your hand around his cock and pump a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watches you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you lick your fingers clean. He slides his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up just as much as you did him. His heart races in his chest as you keep looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you speak up, giggling when Jake interrupts you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curls an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He places a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–” 

“And won’t.” he deadpans, sensing where you're trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smile to yourself, feeling feather light kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He places a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grab a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rests his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you say, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzles his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He places another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you take too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughs at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence is muffled against your mound as you push his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggle as you lay back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue makes contact with your cunt.

Jake's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as he takes his sweet time collecting all of the slick coating your lips and smearing it all over your skin. It's methodical in a way Jake very rarely is, nothing like the primal and messy mixing of his own spit with your arousal and grunting noises you're so used to. When he gets like this, it's purely to tease you.

You grab a fistful of his hair, the strands soft in your hand, and raise his head to force him to look at you.

You almost regret it when you're met with the sight of him licking his lips, his plump lips spreading in a grin that looks almost evil. His irises are entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils, and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't send a chill down your spine. The good kind, the type that also makes you clench your thighs against his frame.

"If you're gonna beg me to eat me out," you say, finding your strength again and being careful not to let Jake see any weakness on your features. "You better do it properly."

You try to keep a straight face when he erupts in a fit of giggles.

"Oooh, look at you—" he starts, clearly amused by your attempt to assert dominance. "I know what I'm doing. You know I know what I'm doing. It just seems to me that I've spoiled the princess a little too much lately." He lowers his head to your thighs, and litters soft kisses as he makes himself comfortable again. Somewhere along the lines, the harsh hold you had on his hair turned into your hand dragging him closer, but you can't pinpoint the exact moment.

Or you just really don't care to know, not when Jake starts lapping up at your cunt like he's starving.

"You taste so delicious, baby," he moans between licks, his nose pressing further into your heat with every movement of his. "So much better than any medicine. Fuck—you're gonna be my little cure from now on. Every time I'm sick, I'll just let you open your legs for me. You'd let me, baby. Wouldn't you?"

You nod vehemently, before realizing he can't see you. "Yes, please use me," you moan, spreading your thighs as far as you can while pushing his head closer to you, even when it's almost physically impossible for Jake to even breathe. Not that he would have it any other way.

The grip on his hair, the way you push and pull at it as if you have any command over the stimulation he's giving you, the way you sing for him with every flick of his tongue. It all makes Jake's head spin in the best way possible, his cock stiff again in his pants and throbbing against the very fabric he ruined with his cum only minutes before.

He grunts and moans into you, like he's the one being pleasured, and it all adds to the magic Jake is working on you. The vibrations only aiding in inching you closer to the second orgasm of the day.

"Jake, I'm close, please."

You don't need to say anything else, because he parts from your cunt for a single second. Just enough to let a gobble of his spit drip down right on your engorged clit, coating it in more shiny essence.

You're about the complain about the lack of stimulation, but he dives right back in, licking a singular stripe from your poor mess a of hole upwards. He can taste the remains of the syrup in his own spit still, and paired with the straight up divine taste of your own slick, Jake thinks he might be in heaven.

"So sweet, baby. So fucking sweet. It's like you want me to never stop fucking you with my tongue." He catches your little bundle of nerves between his raw lips, already wet with spit, suckling on it like he's trying to coax even more wetness out of you. He swirls his tongue around it, his eyebrows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration as he keeps toying and prodding at every single part of your pussy.

You're so unbelievably close to coming undone, every passing second just bringing you closer to the brink. All it takes to send you over the edge is Jake moaning with your numb right in his mouth, the small vibrations from it all you needed for the searing white feeling to envelop you completely, the familiar silent yet still deafening tingly sensation spreading from your core to all the limbs in your body.

Jake keeps lapping up all your generous body gives him, thankful for it all and careful not to let a single drop go to waste.

Your arm is thrown over your eyes as you catch your breath, this second orgasm completely emptying you of whatever energy you had left. Usually you would offer Jake to help him out as a little thank you, even though he told you time and time again that it wasn't needed and pleasing you what was got him off in the first place.

But as much as you denied it initially, the fever did take a toll on you, more than you would like to admit. So any further activity would have to wait.

"Yummy." Jake comes up from below you, drying the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand. Even if you're tired and spent, the comment is enough to make you remove your arm from your eyes just so you can give him a well deserved death stare.

He gets up from the bed, disappearing for a few seconds into the bathroom. "What's with that look? No 'thank you Jake, you're the best?'"

When you don't reply, far too weakened to even try to banter with your boyfriend, he walks back into the room with a towel and a worried look etched on his gorgeous features.

He gets on the bed again, careful not to move your body more than necessary, and starts cleaning you up with the gentlest touch you've ever felt him use. "Did i tire you out too much? You're still sick—"

"You were great. Don't worry," you stop his train of thoughts you knew you wouldn't hear the end of if you let him go on for any longer. "I just need a nap, then I'll be as good as new."

The tension in Jake's shoulders only disappears once you smile at him, his own face morphing to match your own. It's one of your favorite things about him, how he's so careful and attentive to every hint and feeling on your face, he ends up mirroring them without even noticing.

He runs his hands soothingly all over your skin as he resumes cleaning you up, the room falling into a peaceful silence.

You almost fall asleep, but you should've known Sim Jake shutting up for once was far too good to be true.

"Look at the mess you made though. This is enough to start an entire pharmacy."

[perseephoneee]

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ reckless driver [frank langdon x f!reader]

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange information ↳ taglist

synopsis: we all need a little bit of healing (or frank patches you up after an accident)

a/n: i got really badly injured at a waterfall and then proceeded to write this while holding back tears. also i binged the pitt and i'm so deeply in love with frank i love my wet rat babygirl.

thank you to @eurydiceauxenfers for being the best beta a girl can ask for <3

tagging @mayfieldss and @a-house-of-endless-fandoms for suffering through my pitt tangents

This wasn’t out of the norm for you.

Not the type of injury, of course, just ending up injured. You were prone to tripping, falling, hitting something, pretty much any accident under the sun. You woke up with bruises and cuts you didn’t remember receiving, and aches that weren’t there before. As long as you weren’t bleeding, you considered it fine. Take some ibuprofen and call it a day. As befits a doctor, you were horrible at taking care of yourself.

It was that flippant attitude that ended with you in this situation. You took the bus to work, like every morning, getting off at the closest spot to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. It was still a 10-minute walk, but the sun was out, so you didn’t mind. Until you saw a dog run out into the road in front of a car, and then decided to run and push the dog out of the way. You always did have a soft spot for animals.

Of course, the car didn’t stop. You would consider the treatment you got a love tap. Sure, you landed flat on your back on the pavement, but no broken bones. You weren’t dead. You weren’t bleeding too badly. It took you all of five minutes to tell people that ‘yes, I’m fine’ and ‘I’m a doctor, I would know’ before they’d leave you alone. It took you another five minutes to (calmly) chastise the driver for their negligence.

You were late to work and unhappy about it.

A couple of minutes into your walk, the adrenaline wore off, and your leg started to hurt. Like, really badly. Your head kinda swam too, but you ignored that. The driver did hit your leg straight on, so you shouldn’t be surprised. But you really didn’t want to worry your colleagues.

Robby would make you go home; he was overprotective like that. Dana would follow you around like a mother hen. And Langdon would…be Langdon.

You never knew with Frank. He was one year ahead of you in his residency and usually full of snark and a boundless energy you couldn’t match. You thought he was cute the first day and hid that info by being as sarcastic as he was. Using humor to deflect your feelings was one of the best ways to avoid getting hurt. Especially when the inevitable would be nothing happening and him finding someone else.

(It would absolutely devastate you anyway.)

But the few times you got hurt to the point of it being a problem, there was a switch in Frank. He would become worse than Dana, but a whole lot more argumentative. Part of you liked to think he cared, the other part wondered if it was exasperation in his tone. 

(You would keep getting hurt if it meant you could feel his touch on you.)

You made it to the hospital by slowly limping as fast as you could. You entered the ER, slowed to a stroll to hide your leg, planning on waiting until you could corner Samira to help you out. She always was good with confidentiality. 

You were never that lucky. You took approximately ten steps, said hello to Robby, who was waiting at central, before getting called back by him. He had taken one look at you and known something was wrong.

“Morning, doc,” you saluted, hiking your bag up on your shoulder. He narrowed his eyes.

“What happened.”

It wasn’t a question the way he said it.

“Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit. What happened.”

Robby was like a bloodhound when someone he cared about was hurt. It was very annoying. Probably what made him a good doctor.

“Just had a run in, not a big deal,” you shrugged. He still didn’t believe you. Footsteps behind you made you inwardly curse.

“What’s up?” Frank asked, jogging up. He looked like he had his morning Red Bull and was raring to go.

“Dr. L/N was going to tell us how she got hurt this morning.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“What? You’re hurt?” Frank immediately stepped toward you, tone serious and brows furrowed. You glared at them both.

“No, I’m totally fine. See?” You twirled on your feet, clenching your teeth as your leg protested. Robby noticed.

“I want you to walk normally in a straight line,” Robby crossed his arms, looking you up and down. You blinked back at him. You walked slowly until Robby narrowed his eyes, and you were forced to pick up the pace. You felt tears prick your eyes. “I’ll ask you again. What. Happened.”

Robby had this tone he got with his residents, like they were unruly children lying about their report card, and you hated to hear it. It made you feel like you should be in time out.

You mumbled about the car.

“I’m sorry?” Robby leaned forward.

“I maybe accidentally, perhaps, been hit by a car,” you rushed out, taking a step back as if you could escape to the lockers. 

“What?!” Robby and Langdon both said at the same time. You flinched at the noise. 

“Room 2. Now,” Robby snapped, grabbing your arm and dragging you forward. You dug your heels in despite the pain and refused to budge. “Y/N.”

“I’m fine! I don’t need medical attention!” You seethed, trying to wrench out of his grip.

“Langdon. Grab her.”

Frank immediately stepped up behind you, blocking your escape. 

“Sorry, princess,” he shrugged, picking you up when you wouldn’t move. He ended up throwing you over his shoulder when you proved to be difficult. “Would you stop hitting me?!”

“Let me down or so help me God—“

“You’ll what? Limp toward me in fury?”

“Motherfu—“

Langdon plopped you on the patient bed in a huff. Robby closed the door, and you knew that you had lost this battle. No way getting past these two. 

“Why are you so stubborn?” Robby sighed.

“I don’t like bothering people,” you crossed your arms, leaning back on the pillows. Before he could examine you, one of the nurses knocked on the door, telling Robby they needed him. He looked between you and Langdon, running his hand over his head.

“Langdon, take care of her. I’ll be back,” Robby stated, nodding at you before leaving.

This was a nightmare.

“You don’t have to be doing this,” you murmured. Langdon checked your eyes and vitals, ignoring your statement.

“How did you even get hit by a car?” he asked, putting on his stethoscope. You tried to mellow your heart, but it was hard when he was close.

“I…was saving a dog.”

He looked at you in disbelief for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Only you,” he chuckled. “I’m going to order a CT, because I don’t trust that there isn’t something wrong with your head. Roll up the pants for me.”

You did as instructed. He touched along the calf, and you hissed. He pulled his hands away. 

“Any other injuries you’re refusing to show me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him but reluctantly offered up your palms, which were scraped from supporting your fall. He pulled up a chair and grabbed some first aid, sitting close to you as he grabbed your hands. His touch sent electricity down your spine, even as he cleaned the wounds with antiseptic spray. 

“You really don’t have to do this,” you whispered. He looked up at you, that one lock of hair falling into his eyes and driving you mad.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Pretend like I shouldn’t care,” he responded. He wrapped your palm in gauze, not letting the hand go, even when it was bandaged. He traced your fingers with his thumb, staring down at your hands. “I do care. Why is that weird?”

“Because you’re usually an ass.”

You watched him suppress a smile at that. He finally looked up at you, blue gaze steely. You felt like you fell into the deep end of the waters and couldn’t get back up. You wondered if you’d even want to.

“Y/N, do you want to go on a date with me?”

The question caught you off guard. So off guard, you actually just stared at him, blinking for several seconds. Then you remembered you had to answer.

“I, uh, yes, um…I do want to date. Go on a date with you,” you stammered. 

“Really?” He looked so hopeful that it made your heart hurt. 

“Really,” you smiled, honestly. And then your heart flipped as Frank kissed your palm, returning your hand to you. He was a tease, and both of you knew it. 

“Kisses make everything better, medical fact,” Frank smirked. 

“Are you kissing your patients? Because that seems like an HR case,” you jibed, your voice dying out as he kissed your other palm. He ignored your teasing.

“Any other injuries?” He inquired. You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking.

“I think I scraped my lip.”

“Did you now?”

“Yep, totally. Happened when I face planted the pavement.”

“I think I have something for that,” Frank smirked, before leaning in and kissing you. His hand cupped your cheek, so gentle and yet so firm in his affections, it made the butterflies in your stomach go on overdrive. He tasted like caffeine and spearmint, and you wondered if you could survive on him alone.

“Jesus fuck, I asked you to take care of her not hit on her,” Robby groaned, stepping inside the room. You both broke apart, you with heat rushing to your cheeks and mortification in your eyes. Frank, with a sort of smug satisfaction. Bastard.

“I was providing care.”

“Sure,” Robby rolled his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Just need a head CT,” you coughed out. You still couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Then get on that,” Robby sighed. “Now, break it up, lovebirds. Langdon, I need you now.”

Lovebirds. That’s all you thought of as Frank left with a wink. 

Maybe you should get hit by a car more often.

[atomic-waste-of-time]

Daggers and Arrows

A story by me:3

Assailant: ha! I have you bested arrowless archer, with no ammunition, and in such short a distance, you shall surely fall to my bla-

The Assailants chin is held aloft by the archers Dagger, after the Archer used her Dagger to parry the short swords clumsy swing, knocking the blade from the untrained sword womans hands. The Archer smirks, leaning down to look the baffled woman in the eyes.

Archer: One, never monologue to someone within stabbing distance. Two, Never underestimate the Archers close range capabilities. And Three, Long distance units usually carry a form of small arms in case of extremely close quarters. Also, you should've worked a bit more with your blade instead of your tongue. Here's hoping you've learned your lesson. The Arrowless Archer winks, then turns and struts away, leaving the Assailant both confused and incredibly attracted to the strange Archer, and the witch hiding in a nearby bush, who had originally cursed the Archer, has drawn the entire scene, planning to sell it later as the first erotic depiction of a Dagger used in Foreplay. The witch was a genius, thinking that everyone would clumsily kill themselves while trying this new Technique.

Unfortunately for the witch, when she used her pocket mirror to ask the other witches in her coven via what we would call facetiming. Alas, to her dismay, the piece had no potential buyers in other towns, and if she showed the art in Daggersworth (the town in which the Arrowless Archer and the Assailant both live), they'd know who drew it for sure.. She decided to test her luck, and headed into town. She had a devilish idea indeed..

The Assailant (who I've decided is named Arma) was on her porch, she was recently broken up with, and thus used it as a business to cover the cost her gambling ex boyfriend left behind. It was a small smithy, dubbed "Arms and Armor" after her ex Aramor, who was clever with names, but not smart enough to realize dating every girl in town at once was a terrible idea on his part. "At least the hanging went smoothly" she thought to herself.

The Arrowless Archer approached the Smithy, it had been two days since the Assailant attacked, and the Archer knew Arma well enough to be the Assailant, but she was struggling, and the Archer (named Tinara, as I've now decided) was better than to hurt someone already hurting. They sighed, ringing the bell to let Arma know she was here, the girl was always so focused on her work, that she installed a small bell to ensure people could get her attention.

Tinara: Arma, I've an issue you're best at resolving!

Arma: Ah, hello Tinara!! Give me just a moment and I'll be with you!

Arma was, at present, fanning the small forge she used to heat the metals. (For the ones imagining the scene, and who'll know what I'm talking about, think of the blacksmith in Whiterun, except it looks better). She then approached Tinara, happy to see her as always.

Arma: So, what's the problem this time? Someone get too close and break your dagger?

Tinara: No, but a dagger is involved. Look at this.

Tinara held up a picture she had found on sale in the market by a young woman. It was signed with Armas signature, and it was of their brief encounter two days ago.

Arma: Wh.. where did you get this? That's my signature!

Tinara: I know, that's why I'm here. Did you draw these? I like them, but still, having these sold around.. I know times are tough for yo-

Arma: No, not in a hundred years could I draw that well, nor would I dare sell anything so provocative of myself.. Someone is setting the both of us up, but why?

Tinara: Well your ex is dead, so it can't be him. Any enemies aside from them?

Arma: Well, there was a witch, the one who turned all my Iron into Rabbits, ruined me that day because I couldn't be bothered to work the forge, as the same day my dog, Fido, had passed. I should've told her maybe, then she might have felt pity an-

Tinara: Shush, I've heard enough. You needn't belittle yourself for grieving, and it seems we have a common enemy. I propose we find them, and, seeing as the damage has already been done, end her life so she may no longer haunt our people.

Arma: Well, we could also just, I dunno, ask for money, she used our encounter for smut of all things, it's only fair we're paid for that.

Tinara: Hmm.. I suppose, she'll have made some good money from this I presume, we may be able to keep your shop open, hopefully befo-

???: Before I arrived, I presume?

Molly, the towns Debt Collector, had been standing there a while, her left arm under her breasts as she looked at her nails on her right hand. She was always one for dramatics, her parents owned the Theater in Swordston, the neighboring city. They made a lot of money, which was wasted on her drama classes, and very well spent in self defense and sword training, where she thrived. She was then elected the position of the towns Debt Collector after killing the first one in fair combat. Not a soul has beat her yet, and it's been about 7 years.

Molly: I was here to collect the debt your late ex boyfriend brought about with his drinking at the Ironhide Pub, and the property damage, and the-

Arma: Yes yes, get to the point, we've not the whole day to waste away.

Molly: Well, I heard something about Daggers, Smut, and a plan of some kind?~

Molly was also well known to be the towns connoisseur of all things lewd and tasteful, she works with the library to ensure the works of art she admires most remain preserved for all to learn from. Nobody saw any reason to make a fuss of it, and so it's been allowed to persist as one of Daggersworths many oddities.

Tinara: The witch that cursed me and Troubled Arma is the one making this smut all over town, signing it in Arma's signature to sully her na-

Molly: OOOH, Give!

Molly snatched up the piece before either could protest, and studied it close, putting on some small glasses to see more detail.

Arma: I'd would rather you'd ask first Molly, I understand your profession but this is a sensitive matter for I and Tinara.

Molly: That's because you're burdened by shame and such trivial things as the societal normalcy we've grown too accustomed to.

Tinara: Look, the matter is we've a witch to hunt, so w-

Molly: Oh, but look at her Anatomy! She caught both of your forms so well, and the way she made lighting in the scene with so little to work with, splendidly done indeed, I'll have to give this a special spot and ask for a properly signed one, truly a Queen of her craft. No wonder you're so concerned, These pieces are worth a fair bit! I'll have to come with the both of you.

Molly, looked up from the piece, to see a rather cross Arma tapping her foot impatiently.

Arma: If you're only coming for the Pornography, You may as well stay here. I highly doubt your expertise will be of use to us if we're ambushed by a member of their Coven.

Molly: Well, There's an official reason as well! I would be aiding in preserving history, and of course, ensuring you both have the payment by the end of the trip, so you can pay your debt. Plus I'm a great fighter, you know this firsthand Tinara~

Molly and Tinara spar on occasion, it helps them practice their aim, and the two enjoy each others company.

Tinara: Fine, you can come along, but if you so much as peak up a skirt I'll take your hammer and whack you upside the head.

Arma: I'll work on food, and close up the shop, Tinara can you bring some supplies? We'll need blankets and coats in case we encounter snow.

Molly: It's summer! How would it snow in the summer?

Arma: You never know, I try to be prepared. And besides, blankets are comfy, we should bring one each.

Molly: We could all share one?

Arma and Tinara in unison: No!

Molly: Alright alright.. I'll bring my extra large one just in case, and my Precious Biscotti, she'll alert us to danger, she's so talented.

Biscotti was a 6'5 Birch Wolf, a rare and powerful breed, they live in forests dense with birch, and have a similar pattern on their fur to that of a birch tree. They're one of many kinds of Woodland Wolves, a subspecies of wolves that disguise themselves as trees to better hunt skittish prey. Birch wolves are known for being incredibly alert creatures, and their heightened senses make them great guards. It's said that a well trained Birch Wolf can protect you from all harm, and sense the ill intent of others.

Biscotti can definitely sense ill intent in people, they were of old age, and had a lot of experience with bad people. Her previous owner gouged out her eyes, and as such her other senses were elevated, specifically her senses of touch and hearing. She often stamps the ground in order to get an idea of where she is. She also has a little pink bow, a gift from Molly.

Upon hearing her name, Biscotti emerged from behind Armas House, where they were basking in the sun. They nuzzled against Molly, emitting a low growl, a sign of affection.

Tinara: Well, I best get ready, I need to get some more ammunition for my slingshot.

Arma: I'll bring the food!

Molly: I'll bring the hitting sticks!!

The three nodded, and began quickly assembling gear together, in order to find the witch, and.. well, honestly not one of them was sure what they'd do exactly, but they'll come up with something on the road.

End of chapter one. Hope you enjoyed!!! idk where to put this but sometimes you see an idea and just go "yeah we rock with it." yknow?

As the kingdom’s best archer, you were cursed so your arrows would never hit again. But you just started shooting other things—rocks, sticks, shoes—and somehow, it works even better. Folks call you "The Arrowless Archer."

[mia-maybank]

I Have A Feeling You Got Everything You Wanted: Part 1 - George Clarke

George Clarke x Fem!reader ( 1.5k words)

The sidemen charity match , a gorgeous ex-boyfriend with a mullet and his entire friendgroup scattered around the stands to avoid ... what could ever go wrong?

warnings: lots of angst (it gets happier I promise) , hints of poor mental health but it's not a heavy focus

series | masterlist | next part

This is my first fic in a while so sorry if it's not the best :) I've had this idea for a while and then I'm gonna start on everyone's requests this week too! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The roar of the crowd only increases as the players slowly filter onto the pitch, shaking each others hands and waving to the crowds. I clutch my drink tighter in my hand as I watch one player in particular laugh and joke with Chris and Will.

I don't know quite how I ended up in the stands of the Sidemen Charity Match. Perhaps the impulsive decision stemmed from the knowledge that it would allow me to set my eyes on George for the first time in 2 months, or perhaps it was just the intense loneliness that has followed me around like an unwanted weight, caging my heart in a murky fog of isolation ever since that one Tuesday night.

It's not like our shared group of friends have ever explicitly stated that they were choosing his side or had ever given me any form of grief; yet when I kept my distance in the days following the breakup, fearing their anger, their lack of messages or calls had given me an answer enough.

I sit towards the back of the stands, well away from the friends and family section where I know the Arthurs, Bach, Liv and various other of my old friends will be sat. My hoodie is drawn up, shielding my face from any spectators that may recognise me and blow up my whole plan of 'slip in, watch the match, slip out and avoid any social interaction at all costs'. I doubted I still had much relevance in the YouTube scene these days anyway, as my channel has remained untouched and been left to bury in dust and the weight of my heartbreak. I truly had tried to keep up my career independently, but filming with the absence of George's warm touch, Chris' gremlin-like laugh and Arthur TV's random historic facts didn't feel right. Therefore, I had just avoided social media entirely for the last 2 months, finding it easier than scrolling through the pictures and videos of George and the others partying and filming like I had never even been a part of their lives in the first place.

The match passes by in a blur of mullets running around the pitch, an impressive amount of goals being scored, and a growing pain in my chest that I tried my best to swallow down, although this proved harder with every passing second of watching the people who my world once orbited around carry on existing and living so vibrantly without me. When George scored, I couldn't help but let out a loud cheer; I knew that playing in this match was something that he had never even dared to dream of, so I couldn't help but feel an abundance of pride settle in my chest as he celebrated with Tobi.

As the final whistle blows , conceding the all stars team as the winners following an intense round of penalties, I slip out of my seat, intending to make it out of the stadium long before the boys left the pitch. I had time after all; they still had to celebrate and be presented with the trophy.

However, it seemed fate had other plans, as the throng of people who similarly were trying to leave early was overwhelming, and impossible to push through. Eventually, I found a more private stairwell that looked like it wasn't open to the public and slipped past security, figuring I could make a dash down the stairwell and escape quickly.

In my rush, I didn't notice a blur of red bouncing up the stairs until we collided, the impact sending the other person stumbling into the rail whilst I slipped fully, crashing onto the hard floor of the stairs.

"oh shit, I'm so sorr-" the person began, before cutting of abruptly. I soon discovered why when I looked up at the person and find myself staring directly into the equally as shocked eyes of ChrisMD.

Well shit, there goes my plan of avoiding everyone.

"y/n" Chris breathes out, his voice surprisingly gentle and void of the anger I had anticipated. "what are you doing here?"

"I'm not trying to make this a thing I swear!" I stammer out, panicked. "I just wanted to watch you guys play, I was planning on just slipping out".

"Without even saying hello?" he frowns, and I'm majorly thrown off by the lack of confrontation or resentment in his tone and how he seems offended at the idea of me actively avoiding them.

"Well I mean, it's George's big day, not mine and I knew you guys wouldn't want to see me so I was just going to stay hidden-".

"y/n" Chris interrupts softly, looking genuinely heartbroken now, his eyebrows drawn together in a mix of frustration and pity. "of course we would want to see you. I mean, we were practically joined at the hip at one point, and the other boys miss you too, you were a part of our friendship group just as much as George until you vanished. We thought you just wanted to move on and distance yourself from George so we left you alone."

"what?" I choke out, tearing up despite my best efforts to keep a lid on the emotions that aroused the second I realised the person was Chris. "of course I wouldn't just abandon you guys, I thought you guys were upset with me when nobody messaged and I didn't want to force my place in the friend group if you guys didn't want me there anymore." My voice wavers, my vision warped from tears at this point as all of the unspoken hurt I've kept firmly buried since the breakup finally pours out.

"This is the first time I've left my house since the breakup and I just wanted to cheer you guys on in secret, I thought you guys hated me".

"y/n hey hey it's okay-" Chris steps towards me now as if he is approaching a scared deer, his face lined with concern as he reaches out towards me. The moment is interrupted by the sound of laughter from below us, and Chris' expression drops as he mutters "oh for fucks sake not now".

It's too late to do anything though, as the footsteps have now approached the flight of stairs that Chris and me are currently frozen on. "Chris where did you get to why do you look like you've seen a ghost- wait y/n?".

I finally dare to look up at the mention of my name, giving up any pretence of disguising my presence and make eye contact with a shell-shocked Simon, who was the person who had spoken.

My eyes fall behind him to see Ethan, Will, Max, Tobi and Harry all looking equally as caught of guard. However, my attention is captured by the man staring at me with an unreadable expression behind the rest of the group, as stiff as a board and as pale as a ghost.

George.

Well, fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@the-internets-girlfriend

[back2bluesidex]

Slippin' Under - JJK (18+) [Part 3]

Pairing: Bully!Jungkook X Fem!Reader ft. Jimin

Theme: angst, toxic workplace settings, bullying, class difference, haters to lovers au

Word count: 1k+

Summary: "You're toxic, I'm slippin' under"

Warnings: workplace bullying, insulting the reader based on her social stature, class difference, Jungkook is a shit.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (For early access)

Minors, I am not responsible for what you consume online. So, act more rationally and stay away.

A/N: here we go. also, taglist requests are closed for now.

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Sometimes you think, Park Jimin doesn’t walk, he flows. 

There’s a simplicity in his presence that demands attention, that is overpowering. His easy smile, fluffy but pleasantly styled blonde hair, his full lips, his moon crescent eyes - he has the power of making people fall in love easily. 

Maybe that’s a part of why you developed this teeny-tiny crush on him. 

You don’t expect to see him during this hour at all - but you didn’t expect yourself to work this late either. Even though you should have been prepared and you should be grateful that Jeon Jungkook decided to make you pay for his expensive suit by making you overwork and not by docking your pay. 

Jimin knocks on your desk making you tear your eyes away from the computer. Your eyes go momentarily wide as you realize it’s Park Jimin himself. You scramble to get up and bow in respect, “Mr. Park, good evening.” 

Jimin chuckles sweetly, placing his hands inside his pockets. The sound makes warmth bloom inside your chest. 

“Good evening, Y/N. But why are you still here? You should have left for home hours ago.” Jimin places his question. 

“I need to complete reviewing these files within today… so yeah.” you reply honestly. 

Jimin downcast his eyes on the pile of the files, “and when were you assigned with these?” 

“After lunch today.” there is no need to hide anything, this is not your fault. Typically, by company rules, employees can not be assigned with new work post-lunch, unless absolutely urgent. 

And these files - these aren’t due for next two weeks. 

“These aren’t urgent, are they?” Jimin’s eyes now meet yours. There's a question and there’s also understanding in his kind, brown orbs. 

“No,” you look at your hands now. 

“Okay. You can leave for the night.” Jimin says with finality. You know this should be it. Technically, Jimin serves at a higher position than Jungkook. If half of the company is on Jungkook’s mother’s name, then the other half belongs to Jimin’s father. 

It’s not a secret that Jimin and Jungkook are cousins. Everyone knows how their father and mother (who are cousins as well) brought up the kids together. There’s only one thing that goes beyond your understanding, that is - if Jimin and Jungkook grew up together then how can Jimin be the sweetest creature on earth and Jungkook is just the polar opposite? 

Jimin snaps his fingers before your face and only then you realize you zoned out earlier. 

“Y/N, you heard me?” Jimin questions, the slight hint of concern in his voice makes your heart swell. 

“Yes, yes, Mr. Park. but I- this won’t take much time. I can complete these within an hour. I can go home after that.” you don’t like to admit but pissing off Jungkook anymore than you already have doesn’t seem like a good idea. 

“It’s 9 at night.” Jimin’s voice turns a little authoritative now, “stop working and wait here till I come back.” he orders, you only nod. 

He leaves you at your place and disappears towards Jungkook’s room.

You hear footsteps again as you are packing your things up. When you look up expecting Jimin, your eyes meet with Jungkook’s first. 

As always, his eyes bear more disgust than your entire body can gather. 

“Y/N” Jimin calls your name, you divert your attention to him, “Jungkook will drop you home.” 

What? What? Your throat constricts before you can protest. Jungkook continues to glare at you. 

“I- Mr. Park, I don’t need a ride. Buses and the subway run till midnight. I can manage on my own.” you manage to say when the initial shock is over. 

“Jungkookie mistook these files as urgent. He should have checked thoroughly before making you work overtime. It’s his fault, so he should be the one to take the responsibility.” Jimin defends his brother with a smile. You very well know that Jungkook didn’t make any mistake - it was very much intentional but there’s no point in saying anything now.  

“Mr. Park, that’s alright. I can-” you try your hardest to get out of the situation. There’s no way you would like to spend an additional thirty minutes near Jeon Jungkook’s vicinity, that too, inside the confinement of his car. 

But Jungkook cuts you off. 

“Let’s go, it’s getting late.” his words slip out of his mouth casually, but you can feel the hint of anger lingering in those. 

“That’s fixed then. Good night to both of you.” Jimin claps his hands together. For a moment you feel like he is celebrating your certain demise. If you come out of this car ride in one piece, that’s going to be astonishing indeed. 

“I can’t believe, I am giving you a ride.” Jungkook’s voice pierce through the silent, stale air of the parking lot. 

The heels of his expensive shoes clink against the cemented floor - you follow him closely behind. 

“Mr. Jeon, you can drop me at the nearest subway station.” you suggest. 

Jungkook stops in his tracks. 

“Why? Want me to get scolded again?” he turns to face you, “you bitched about me, didn’t you?” 

“I only answered the questions he asked.” you reply.  

Jungkook takes two dangerous steps towards you, “you- don’t try to outsmart me. Just because you have hyung’s preference, I am not going to hate you any less.”

You don’t reply. There’s nothing to reply. 

Fortunately enough, the car ride is silent and peaceful. 

There are only a handful of times when you have had the opportunity of sitting in a private car but anything you have ever rode, don’t come near to the experience that Jungkook’s car brings to you. 

The car is spacious, there are a thousand different controls on the dash, the small screen shows your address, the seat feels way too comfortable under your back and butt. You feel like you could sleep here for hours. 

No matter how much you try to stay awake. The soft humming of the engine lulls you to sleep. 

Sounds of loud car horns bring consciousness back to you. 

The first thing you see is Jungkook’s face with a lewd smirk painted on it. 

“I bet you never rode this kind of car in your entire life. It’s more comfortable than your bedroom isn’t it?” he throws one of his usual insults towards you, but you don’t feel bad. Mostly because there’s nothing wrong in his statements. 

You sigh, a sad smile stretches on your face, “You are right. Your car is definitely more comfortable than the room I share with my parents. Thanks for the ride. This is probably the best I have slept in a while.” 

You expect Jungkook to laugh loudly, laugh at your misery, at how different you are from him. But nothing returns other than silence. 

When you pull your eyes up, you see him staring at you - the usual heat of anger and hatred missing this time. 

“And you are okay with it? Okay with not being able to afford what others can?” he questions, inquisitiveness clear in his voice. 

“All of us lack something. I am okay with lacking social status, money or that affordability. I can always work to build it on my own. I have a family, both of my parents are in good health. And I think that’s enough to be grateful for.” you grab your bag, “thanks for the ride, Mr. Jeon.” clicking the door open, you shut it behind. Only to find your mother standing out of the broken gate of your home. 

“Ddal, whose car is this?” she asks. It fills you with dread. Jungkook can insult you as much as he wants, but not your parents. 

Your mother’s sweater has several holes in it, her dress bears a big black spot from her work at the factory. You can’t let him see her like this. You can’t-

“Eomma-” your voice gets cut with a loud thud of the car door being closed. 

“Eomonim” Jungkook walks from the other side of the car and comes to stand right beside you. There’s no mockery in his clear voice. 

He bows in half in greeting. 

“I am Y/N’s colleague at work. My name is Jeon Jungkook..” when he straightens up, you see him grinning wide. 

Your breath stops. 

Is it- is it really the Jungkook you know?

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[everrinsly]

a/n; i wish...this could happen to me too + and everyone who needs a little extra cha-ching at the end of the month. (*¯︶¯*)

suna may be a famous pro athlete, but he is first and foremost your best friend vibes.

sugar daddying part 1 (banking war crimes with suna). short drabble. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

sugar daddy suna | part 2 | part 3

more reads!

~~~~~

You had been taking extra shifts at the local cafe as your bookstore job didn't pay much. Suna knew. He always did even if you didn't tell him. You had trouble covering rent. You were wearing his old tees. And your tote bag was tearing at the seams. And Suna...Suna hates it when you give and give but never take.

And so, he did something, like war-crime level based on your evaluation.

You were on your lunch break when the bank notification hit.

[Transfer Alert: ¥1,537,282 JPY] From: Suna Rintarou Memo: For being the prettiest girl ever.

You froze mid-bite into your onigiri.

That was…that was ten thousand dollars?!

In the middle of your damn shift!?

Never mind that he called you pretty because all you were looking at was...the ten thousand dollars?!

You fumbled your phone so hard your coworker asked if you were okay, and all you could do was nod numbly while your soul attempted to leave your body (and you think your soul actually left).

But before you could even text him to demand an explanation, your phone buzzed again.

Instagram. Suna Rintarou. New Post.

It was a screenshot of the bank transfer.

He had the audacity to post it. Uncensored. The full amount.

The caption was worse.

'You guys think I'm doing this sugar daddying right?'

[jan-aki]

i was just gonna put this in the tags but apparently i'm not feeling very "in the tags" about this. i just feel like rambling, so feel free to skip if you don't care

disclaimers: i haven't seen star wars in a while, so some of this might be wrong. also, spoilers ahead. the original 6 actually has a pretty good story, just sayin'... (idk about the last 3 because i wasn't very into star wars by the time they came out)

anyways, he started off as a good guy who's very clearly Special, but his vibes were off so he wasn't getting the respect he felt like he deserved. also he fell in love but wasn't allowed to have a partner. those things made him hate the jedi (good guys)

the sith (bad guys) take advantage of this and convince him to start doing "sith things" like slaughtering innocent people. his love isn't really vibing with this, so she leaves him. anyways, she then dies while giving birth and at that point he just fully gives in and goes full sith mode which results in him losing all of his limbs in a fight and he becomes darth vader*

he then spends several years as a full time sith and ends up meeting his son, and has a "wow i'm a piece of shit and so is this whole 'sith' thing" and yeets his boss off a cliff

then they have a really touching and poetic** moment where he's dying from that fight and has his son take off his helmet so he can "see him with his own eyes" (he is incredibly dependant on his suit. it's like an iron lung)

*i think he was technically darth vader before he got the suit but this is the part where he gets the suit so he now looks like the character you would recognize as darth vader

**he's beyond recognition in this scene. he's pale, bald, has a misshapen and injured head, and tired and bloodshot eyes which parallels the unrecognizability of who he became as a person

one last symbolism thing i wanna mention (which isn't really relevant) that my dad pointed out to me is the colours in A New Hope (which came out first and wasn't originally meant to have a sequel)

the blaster shots from the good guys are red (typically a bad guy colour), while the shots from the bad guys are green (typically a good guy colour). also, the storm troopers (bad guys) have white armour (typically a good guy) colour. HOWEVER, vader's suit is black (typically a bad guy colour), which hints at the end of the movie where he gets redeemed

Spin a wheel to be assigned someone!

[missedloveletter]

🖤 •WIND BREAKER BOYS•🖤

Summary:how you met the lovely boys

Characters:Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, suo hayato

Warnings:bullying/harassment(nothing really happens don't worry pookie)

These will be a bit long🖤

(this is my first time writing so keep that in mind along with characters being ooc ishhh)

Suo hayato <3

You were on your way to the convenience store as the sun started to seep into the horizon.It was starting to fall dark.you know it was risky to get a snack at this hour,but you just couldn't resist the new flavor that released of your favorite drink and the wrapper came out with a new cute design.so your here, speed walking for your life to the closest convenience store being lead by the glowing sign illuminating your way.you swing open the door and bask in the blinding light of the cool store.you weave your way through the aisles grabbing all you beloved snacks with there new cute wrappers.As you make your way to the check out theres a voice,"what's a cutie doing out so late it's not sa-" and on instinct you raise the small basket you held all your snacks in and swung at the voice cutting the voice off".

The basket's contents fell to the floor .The hand of the voice that spoke gently stopped the basket from smacking his face.you met his eyes as he gave you a polite smile."That's not very nice...but I suppose I snuck up on you.you got quite the swing there".

you feel like you've seen this boy somewhere but it just wasn't clicking...huh....your eyes soon met the black green jacket of bofurin...oh...OH."Im Sooo sorry I thought you were A creeper".

your words come out in a jumbled mess as you look over the boy for any injuries gently grabbing his shoulder to look him over.Suo's eyes widen slightly at you touch...gentle as your eyes scan over him with genuine concern .He grabs your hands lowering them from his shoulders smiling at you once more, but this time it's warmer somehow.

"It's alright you didn't hurt me,but I can't say the same for the snacks". In unison you two looked at the floor with the snacks sprawled along it, drinks we're opened as their contents decorated the tills.

You find yourself deflated from the lack of snacks and the messy floor.

.

.

.

.

You say your goodbyes and apologizes to the store owner as she was sweet enough to let you go without charge for your little accident.you sigh heavily as you see the sky was dark illuminated solely by the moon.

suo looks at you and smiles,"I can walk you home if you'll like",You look at him skeptically...

"really.... because I just slapped your face , no hesitation with my shopping basket".

He laughs"correction I stopped you before it made contact with my face and what can I say I like my girl with a little spunk".All you can do is roll your eyes.

Hajime Umemiya<3

It was beautiful like always with the surrounding trees as light flows through their branches leaving leafy patterns on the grassy ground and tent tops.

You step out into the warm sun of the farmers market.There was rows and rows of tents with various vegetables, fruit and other home made goodies for you to get your hands on.you find your way at the row of baked goods with tents displaying their loaves of bread and others various pastries as the smell dances in the air.you find your self leaving there with plenty of bread.

"I should really stick to the list grams gave me....I'm sure she wouldn't mind a sweet treat though".As you were distracted trying to remember your mental list you run to a wall. But...there shouldn't be a wall in the middle of the park.You look to see the kind eyes of a young man.

He looks down and smiles big at you with eyes all crinkled.Too cute...and bright.

This golden retriever of a man picked you up from your half standing position because of your collection."Are you ok you seem a little dazed them".

"Oh ...OH I'm so sorry I didn't see you there I'm trying to get to the produce section".

His eyes light up at your words and quickly but gently grabs your shoulder"REALLY ME TO I CAN TOTALLY TAKE YOU THERE".

And that's how you got here, tagging along on this ball of sun shines shopping trip helping you find your needed Items as well.

Haruka Sakura <3

You were on your way back from school.The warmth of the sun was refreshing compared to the cold class room you were condemned to. Everything was the same and comforting as the movement of the town was the same.A white cat scurrying across the sidewalk, the smell of baked goods from the bakery you walked passed. But as you walked past an open alley way you heard a whistle. You cringe at the sound and try to spend passed in hopes of missing the man,but he quickly bloomed from the alley griping your wrist.

"Where do you think you're going sweet?"

You felt instinct disgust with chills rolling down your body.You turn away refusing to look at the man and in the Sharpe's voice you can you say"I'm not interested, let go".

All he did was chuckle,"Now now sweet cheeks there's no need to be like that ...I'm just trying to get to know ya....why not look at me mmmm".Even with you facing away from him you catch the smell of his morning breath making you more repulsed.

But you soon see a boy walking around searching for something.You soon seen the green and black jacket of bofurin.He was kinda hard to miss with is black and white hair, you look at the guy that gripped your wrist and stocked you tongue out quickly slipping away with his surprise.

You quickly cross the street to the boy and grip his arm and quickly whisper,"Please play along".

Poor Sakura didn't even hear what you said as he was 7 shades darker than a ripe tomato as his brain stopped working once you touched him.When he finally came he was about to step away from you being a flustered blushing mess,but then he looked at the directions you came from meeting the eyes of the man....then it clicked....

He quickly stepped in front of you being a wall between you and your harasser."step aside kid, I'm trying to get to know this cutie".The man reached his arm around Sakura to grab you which was the wrong move.

Sakura as gently as he could push you back as he gripped the man's arms and with his free hand punched him square in the jaw knocking him on the floor. The man stands up fingers teasing where he was just hit,"What the hell's wrong with you!?"

The fight between them soon became a blur.one second your harasser was standing the next he was out cold unconscious on the concrete .

"thanks you....so much are you ok?"

Sakura whipped his head around probably giving him whiplash,"D-dont thank me I didn't do that for you..." Poor guys a blushing mess.

You smile,"can I take you to dinner as a thank you"?

Sakura.exe stopped working.

[technically-human]

You're so good at writing Robotnik! Whenever I read your comics I can hear it in his voice 😂 how do you do it? 💕💕💕 (Sorry if I've asked this already)

After how much I struggled to write that Robotnik fic, to see people think I'm good at writing him is a relief, so thank you.

I do have a few rules I try to follow when writing him specifically, but sometimes I draw a comic simply because my brain keeps repeating a specific dialogue in his voice and I need to get rid of it before it drives me to madness.

Basically!

1) this man is not constantly angry. I know it's easy to fall for this trap but you must fight it. He actually doesn't spend a lot of canon time being angry, even when he should. This is a kid's franchise after all, and angry adults are pretty scary. As much as he's the villain, Robotnik is not meant to be scary. He's still very EXPLOSIVE. He will shout a lot, and he's always frowning and he seems to always be one step away from anger, but he doesn't cross that line very often. I can't even say he's grumpy, because

2) Robotnik is basically a kid with a very extensive vocabulary. I'm not trying to disrespect Eggman here, but he throws tantrums, he insults people just because, his mood changes from one moment to the other, his emotions are BIG. I look at my 4 year old niece and I wonder if she's being possessed by the ghost of Ivo or if she's just being a normal kid.

3) he's not very self aware. He thinks he's the smartest, coolest, most impressive kid in this playground, and that results in him saying and doing very weird and ridiculous stuff with full confidence. If other people look at him funny, well, that's just because they don't understand his brilliance.

4) think of this as a game. If you want to present Robotnik with a Serious and Complicated thing and you don't know how he'd react, assume that this man is roleplaying his way out of it. He doesn't fully grasp that other people could have any value whatsoever, so he can treat it all like a game. Oh, millions are going to die? This will be good for the plot, fun. This is one of the funniest rules to break, nothing like forcing a character who Doesn't Care to suddenly care very much.

5) Robotnik's one weakness is humans. Oh he can mostly understand them, on a surface level, we see this mostly in the deleted scenes when he praises Stone to manipulate him or when he makes the fundraiser. Or even back in the first movie, when he pretends to work for the power company. He's not good at it but he THINKS he can play the part of a normal, well adjusted individual. This is very funny to me, but it's also important to remember because it means he's not above playing nice to get what he wants.

6) Robotnik doesn't say what he means, he implies it. I make him say "that's not how this works anymore" instead of "I won't leave you behind again" I make him say "no dying!" instead of "I don't want you to leave me" and I make him say "what's my full name?" Instead of "you're the only person I would ever want to hear my name from" and because I'm a bit of a romantic, most of the time, Stone gets it. But Robotnik doesn't expect him to, which is the only reason he dares to say it.

All of that is very nice, but sometimes it means I'm over here like "Come on, Rob, just say this one thing so the story can progress. Just one thing" and he replies "nu-uh, OOC + cringe + you suck, try something else" and I suffer

[a-hermit-pining]

The Duke and the Dragon

AN: This is it i'm done posting for today. This might seem ooc but I wanted to portray a younger Sylus here.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Sylus x Non mc male reader

Summary: Sylus is mildly intrigued by the human in his tower. The one who is not the princess.

“How could you mess this up?”

You slam your hand against the stone wall, and immediately regret it.

“You were supposed to take my niece, not me,” you hiss, glaring at the dragon. “Do I look like a princess to you?”

You gesture pointedly at your armor. Burnished. Battle-worn. “Have you even read any of the scrolls in this tower? Or spared a glance at all the portraits we sent?”

With a groan, you drop down onto the cold floor. No wine. Of course not. Your niece was never too fond of it.

Across the room, the dragon, Sylus, furrows his brow like a student being unfairly tested.

Maybe you should’ve gone with a true beast. One that didn’t speak. Didn’t think. But back then, a part-human dragon seemed wiser. Younger than his kind. Untouched by dragon sickness. Still sane enough to protect your niece.

Your advisors had warned you. You hadn’t listened.

Now here you were. Kidnapped. By your own plan. Because apparently Sylus had mistaken you, a duke in ceremonial cape, for the girl you were trying to protect.

“I was told to grab the one in royal clothing,” Sylus says, like that’s the end of it.

“I am quite literally in armor.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What happens when the prince shows up to duel you and finds me instead?”

He doesn’t answer.

The prophecy’s clear: No one leaves the tower until the dragon is defeated.

Sylus is mildly intrigued by the human in his tower. The one who is not the princess.

But he cannot find a fault in that. He quite enjoys speaking to the human, who has a thing for slamming hands on tough surfaces and then refusing help.

Their routine, as it settles:

7:00 a.m. — You wake in a canopy bed far too delicate for your dignity. You mutter daily threats to burn it.

8:00 a.m. — You either cook or terrify the kitchen brownies into doing it. Sylus practices writing while muttering about cursive being a curse.

7:15 a.m. — Sparring in the study. Limited space. Frequent bruises.

Sylus is not gentle. You never ask him to be.

11:00 a.m. — Lessons. You teach him politics. History. Metaphors. He learns faster than he lets on.

12:00 p.m. — Nap time. His decree. So the brownies can cook without being “micromanaged to death,” he claims. (They thank him.)

3:00 p.m. — You bandage his wounds. He pretends he’s fine. You pretend you’re not worried.

2:00 p.m. — A knight arrives. Sylus checks with you before fighting.

“Do we like this one?”

“Not particularly.” He grins.

4:00 p.m. — Letters from the fallen. Some are bitter. Some… oddly romantic. Some come from your niece, now infatuated with her lady-in-waiting and living the sapphic dream in the capital.

5:00 p.m. — Supper. Then stargazing. You fall asleep beside him, shoulder brushing scale. Neither of you mentions it.

8:00 p.m. — Sylus tucks his human into the canopy bed you pretend to hate. You grumble about lace and pillows. He doesn’t argue. You are, he thinks, not for the first time, prettier than any princess.

You weren’t the princess. But Sylus thinks the prophecy got it right anyway.

So he holds back. He fights smarter. But he never wants to lose.

Knights keep coming. And sometimes, princesses. Those are harder.

Because you made him promise, no hurting women.

He doesn’t want to be legendary. He doesn’t want to be feared. He just wants this.

Your voice in the morning. Your sparring insults. Your breath soft against his shoulder when the stars begin to rise.

And he’s afraid. Terribly afraid. That one day, you’ll say it’s time. That he has to lose.

And he will. Because if it’s your voice that asks it, he’ll burn the world to obey.

You walk past him.

Zone N109 hums with static and neon, the air thick with synth fog and incense smoke. You’re halfway to the next stall when a voice, calm, low, maddeningly sure, cuts through the noise.

“Still furrow your brow when you’re about to insult someone.”

You pause and then turn. Slowly.

The man is tall. Broad-shouldered.

You narrow your eyes. “Do I know you?”

He steps closer, hands tucked in his pockets like he’s not shaking on the inside. “Not in this life.”

You blink. “Right.” You start to turn again. “Definitely a creep.”

“You also say that when you’re flustered.”

That stops you. Again. You stare at him. Studying his face. There’s nothing familiar about him… and yet…

There’s something. In the way he watches you with that stupid smug smile. In the way your name hasn’t even been said, and still, he looks like he’s memorized it.

You cross your arms. “Do you flirt with every stranger in a cursed weapons market?”

His smile quirks.

“Only the ones I’d drag to a tower.”

[jetblack4realz]

protector - haymitch abernathy

negotiations

masterlist

haymitch is determined to keep you out of snow's grasp.

warnings: sexualizing, allusions to sa and gross people, spoilers to sotr, age gap of like 3 years

word count: 2k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the train slowed to a stop with a screech that sounded oddly like a sigh - as if it knew that you didn't want to be there.

your victory tour was just beginning, three long months after yours and haymitch's statement at the party. and since then the capitol had gone quieter.

it was unsettling.

your name hadn't been in the mouth of a talk show host or news reporter in three months, and you hadn't been shown in any of the montages or reruns that showered capitol screens.

haymitch was missing from them too.

when your prep team showed up to start the tour, you were surprised to see you'd gotten reassigned. your stylist was different too, and he was a man with a mission.

the only reason you hadn't gotten botox stuffed up your cheeks and lips and your skin pinned back to your hairline to look more up to the capitol standards was your grandmother barging in and pushing the needles from his hands herself.

and the peacekeepers looked at you different.

watched. intently.

they went out of their way to hover around you when you visited the market, knocking on your door to ask if you'd heard the same noise apparently other victors did, peeking through your windows and only leaving when you threw the door open to catch them.

they were still watching you now as you stepped off the train, smiling through the cold with makeup a shade too light and your hair pulled too tightly half up. you'd been messing with it on the train, so a few strands were flying despite your escort's attempts to flatten it down again.

mags followed you onto the platform, both smiling as brightly as you could and stretching out your hands to the mayor's family. behind them was a group of better-off citizens from in town, all with half-smiles, unblemished skin, and strangely blond hair. you recalled haymitch remarking on the stark difference between the seam kids and the town kids - the reason his blond hair was darker and his skin more tanned and marked up, because his father was a seam boy through and through.

"miss flanagan, welcome to 12," the mayor said with a smile, shaking your hand firmly before you both pulled your hands back into your coats.

"thank you," you told her. "it's a pleasure to be here. this is my grandmother, mags."

"oh, yes, it's lovely to meet you as well ma'am," the mayor said, sticking her hand out again to greet mags with a smile.

her husband smiled at you brightly, their two young children practically standing on his toes as he offered you a nod. "it's a pleasure to have you, miss. you've been the talk of the town for a long while now and we've been very excited to meet you."

"oh, well i'm excited to meet you all as well," you answered with a small smile. you glanced at the two bright blonde girls at his feet and offered them a small wave. "what are your names?"

"mirelle."

"marnie."

"beautiful names. it's nice to meet you," you told them, your smile growing a touch.

they smiled and wrung their hands, mirelle speaking first. "you're very pretty."

you gasped, crouching to their level with a grin. "well, thank you very much. you two are just gorgeous as well."

marnie turned away from you, grinning as mirelle giggled. "thank you ma'am."

"oh of course, darlings," you said, smiling at them for a moment longer before looking up at their parents and standing. "they're lovely."

"aren't they?" the mayor asked, smiling down at her girls.

"now, if you don't mind my asking," you hummed, glancing around the platform. "where is he?"

"who?"

"oh, sorry. haymitch."

the mayor shared a look with her husband that made your heart race a bit, your brows knitting as you eyed them.

"he'll be joining us at the reception later," she answered, pulling her shoulders back as she offered a polite smile.

"well, if you wouldn't mind i'd like to see him now," you told her, glancing back at your grandmother once. "he said he'd meet me here."

her husband spoke then, a hushed tone as he leaned towards you and away from watching peacekeepers. "he's at victor's village. he was told to stay there until after your speech."

that's when you remembered the cameras behind you and you fixed your posture, nodding. he flicked one hand towards the exit of the platform and you could see the rows of beautiful white houses in the distance.

"right. well, thank you."

and then you turned on your heel, making way towards them.

mags mumbled your name quietly, her hand brushing over your arm as you passed her. but, you continued on, eyes set on the large overhead gate you now spotted.

and then your name was called loudly, by a deeper, gruffer voice than your grandmother.

"honey."

you turned quickly, the tension in your shoulders easing as you spotted haymitch standing in front of the townsfolk.

his hair was a mess, his coat was unbuttoned, he was a bit scruffy, and he had a look in his eyes that made your chest ache, but goodness was he beautiful.

the cameras zoomed, half on you and half on haymitch, your prep team letting out collective "aww"s behind you on the platform as your face lit up.

you crossed the platform quickly, walking into his now open arms like you weren't on the tour, like you weren't surrounded by half the town, like cameras weren't progressively zooming in on you both - more like you were home.

he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, holding you close to him. "you weren't supposed to be here yet."

"i wasn't supposed to be a lot of things."

he pulled back, eyes scanning your face; the capitol polish, the too-tight hair, the concealer coating the dark circles under your eyes.

he pressed another kiss to your head before plastering his usual wide smirk on his lips and wrapping you in his arms once more, spinning dramatically in a circle as you laughed. once you were back on your feet, he took you in one arm and turned to the watchful audience.

"now, if you all don't mind, i'm gonna take my honey home. it's been too long since i've seen her," he told them, earning a few giggles from the teen girls surrounding you.

"i'll see you all at the speech," you said to the mayor, shooting her another smile before following haymitch off the platform, your grandmother behind you beginning to speak with the political officers left behind.

his footsteps were quick and longer than you were used to, and you had to skip a bit to keep up.

"hasty, aren't you?" you hummed, smiling a bit as he looked back at you.

he squeezed your hand. "i missed you, honey."

"i missed you too."

"i've been worried about you. why haven't you been picking up your damn phone?"

"i think snow cut off my line. i've been calling you from gigi's. there's a lot we gotta talk about."

"damn right there is."

you walked up the steps to his house, the man flinging the door open and shutting it tightly behind you as you stood in his walkway. you looked around the open-floor layout, humming quietly. "strange. i guess all the victor's villages are built the same. my place looks exactly like this, and so does gigi's."

"you already know your way around then," he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist again. "what's mine is yours, darlin' - in this case quite literally. make yourself at home."

you turned in his arms with a small smile, arms settling around his neck comfortably. "even if it's just for the two days i'm here."

"yep," he breathed out with a heavy sigh. "and then i'm back to the solitary life."

"that's the first thing i wanted to talk to you about actually," you said, fingers lacing through the hair at the back of his neck.

he quirked a brow. "what?"

"i want you to come with me on the rest of the tour."

he hesitated.

"i don't know if that's such a good idea, honey-"

"no, it is, i promise. they'll see us united, haymitch, together. i mean, isn't that why we started this whole thing? this partnership?"

his eyes remained on you, shoulders tensing at your words. he pulled away slightly, though his hands squeezed your waist.

"honey... this isn't just a partnership anymore," he told you. "these are our lives - this is our life."

"so we might as well start it together," you answered, eyes on his intently. "mitch, please... i need you."

and he laughed.

like, genuinely laughed, pulling away from you completely as his hand came to cover his mouth.

your mouth fell open.

"why are you laughing at me?"

"i'm not, i'm sorry," but he was still laughing as he said it. he shook his head, holding a hand up as he laughed a bit more. "i'm sorry, hun."

"why is this funny?"

"it's not! well, some of it was. i just -" he laughed again. "did you call me 'mitch'?"

you faltered. "i - well, yeah. yeah, i did, i thought i'd try something new, i guess. why? was it weird?"

"oh it was so weird," he snickered. "no. mitch is not - don't go with mitch."

"okay," you said, dragging the word out slowly as you furrowed your brows at him. "what would you prefer me to call you, abernathy?"

"well, that works," he hummed, leaning against the wall now. "that's hot when you call me that." you rolled your eyes. "h is always good too. you're the only one who says that. but, uh, i like darling; darling is cute, of course. i'm partial to handsome though, too, or gorgeous, pretty boy, mine is a good one too."

he was laughing through his words as you shook your head at him, hands coming up to guard against you when you pushed his shoulder.

"you're a dork, haymitch," you told him, letting him wrap his arm around your waist and draw you back into his chest.

"one of my more admirable qualities," he answered, smiling down at you before leaning to capture your lips in a long overdue kiss.

and then he pulled away, dragging you with him to the living room and pulling you to sit next to him on the sofa.

"now," he said. "we need to talk. what's our move here?"

"well, it's pretty obvious snow has been trying to shut us up," you said, leaning into his side and letting your eyes focus on the bookcase in front of you. "but, now we have 24/7 access to the media. this tour is going to be the only focus of any tv channel for the next three weeks. i say we take advantage of it."

"what are you suggesting?"

"we do something about it. say something. use it for good."

"honey," he sighed. he ran a hand over your arm. "with what we've done already... he ain't gonna like that."

"well, i don't exactly care."

"yeah, well, i care about him getting angry with you. you're forgetting the whole point of us playing nice in the media is to keep you safe."

"and if that's not what i want anymore?"

"doesn't matter. that's what we're doing. that's all we can do."

"but, there's got to be more," you said, turning so you could meet his eyes. "there's something we can do. i'm so sure of it."

he huffed again, looking away from you for a moment to collect his thoughts before turning back. "i'll make you a deal."

"i love deals."

he smiled a bit before continuing. "we accomplish our first goal. we guarantee your safety. we make sure there's no way he can ever use you like he wants to. and then, and only then, we can start shaking things up. well, even more than you've already tried."

you considered it before nodding. "that's reasonable."

"we got a deal, honey?" he asked.

"deal."

[myjjongie]

✶ FIREWORKS ── l. heeseung

IN WHICH: you and your boyfriend watch fireworks together on a summer night.

PAIRING: bf!heeseung x gf!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, established relationship, angst, heavy on the angst, hurt/no comfort WORDS COUNT: 1.4k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: yeah, i did and didn't have fun writing this. lowkey hurt myself with one to be honest. sigh. also have another angst one shot i'm cooking up. at this point i'm just being evil :3

lee heeseung.

your boyfriend of what felt like more than 5 years. your first love since your junior year of high school. the man who was your first kiss, your first date, and the first person you lived with. heeseung ultimately was your first for everything.

and for heeseung? it was the same for him. you were his first for everything as well. as the years went on and those firsts you both shared together, you knew deep down heeseung would be your one and only in the near future.

soon it became summer—the sixth summer you would be spending with him. any chance you both had free time, there would be dates planned.

from watching new movie releases on weekends, to day trips on the beach, every date planned was filled with fun and new memories. as summer was coming to its end, there was an annual festival coming up.

heeseung and you were already in agreement to go together, already making sure anything that revolved around your jobs would be taken care of.

soon it was the weekend of the festival. dressed up in attire that matched one another’s, you both headed out. as you walked down the dirt path—filled with stalls of all kinds, from food to games to vendors. your hands were intertwined, swinging back and forth as you enjoyed the scenery around you.

as the night went on, heeseung won you stuffed animals and bought delicious food to share. the night felt perfect in your eyes. you couldn’t have asked for anything more, and for heeseung, it was the same.

as you both circled back around you checked the time. the fireworks display would be starting soon.

“hee, the fireworks are starting soon! i have a nice spot i saw earlier!” you chimed happily, giving him the happiest smile.

heeseung smiled fondly back at you. “okay. lead the way!”

shortly, you found the spot you remembered. a secluded on top of a grassy hill. the view overlooked the stalls below, leaving the sky view vast and open.

“wait this view is beautiful. you did an amazing job babe!” heeseung praised as he gave you a forehead kiss.

“what can i say!” you cheekily replied.

heeseung couldn’t help but laugh at your tone, causing a smile to form once again.

as you both settled down on the bench, you cuddled up to heeseung—head leaning on his shoulder as you fiddled with his fingers in your hand. one thing you did often whenever you cuddled him.

without a warning the first firework went off, causing the both of you to jump. realizing your reaction, you both shared a laugh, truly relishing in the moment. soon more fireworks went off in the night sky.

the blooming colors scattering the sky making you feel something. “i hope we have fireworks at our wedding.” your fingers tightening around heeseung’s.

“at our wedding? who says we’re getting married?”

your body froze for a second, your heart weighing down suddenly. maybe you heard him wrong. lifting your head from heeseung’s shoulder, you turned to look at him.

“huh?” you stared at him—confused. yet, when heeseung looked at you, it was as if he didn’t say anything wrong.

“who said we’re going to get married?” he repeated, this time letting out a small laugh.

it didn’t sound malicious, it sounded like a fact—almost indifferent. you were speechless. your mind was thinking questions you wanted to ask right then and there. yet, you never said anything.

you let out a small laugh to dissuade the situation. “no yeah. we never even talked about marriage. what am i saying?” quick to dismiss the comment with a laugh. softly biting the inside of you mouth—hoping tears wouldn’t fall.

the rest of the night was silent on your end. “hey babe, is everything okay?”heeseung asked, concern in his tone.

“nothing. i’m just tired now.” you lied. you smiled at him, hoping heeseung would believe it. and that he did.

as summer officially ended, so did everything you felt. the past 5 years of love, thoughts of marrying heeseung, sharing a future. it all died that summer night.

once the late summer days rolled into the new season, your relationship changed with it.

before, you never fought with heeseung, not once did you raise your voice at him. yet now you did. minor things he could say or do upset you.

maybe you felt some resentment towards heeseung for what he said. in the end, you wouldn’t have doubted those feelings.

finally, one night heeseung noticed the change in your attitude—confused as to why you were suddenly like this—he confronted you.

pulling you down to the couch, heeseung spoke. “yn. talk to me. what’s going on? we’ve never fought like this before. yet now it feels like we do it every day?” despite what he said that night, heeseung still deeply loved you and cared for you.

but for you, you weren’t sure if you felt the same anymore. you hesitated for a moment, not daring to look him in the eyes. your fingers gripped at the fabric of your jeans. knuckles whitening as you internally fought yourself.

“why don’t you want to marry me?”

“what?” heeseung was stunned—taken aback by the question. he had forgotten about that night, thinking the comment made wasn’t serious.

“I asked, why don’t you want to marry me?” you repeated yourself, wishing for this one question to finally be answered.

“yn. where is this coming from?”

your head quickly turned to heeseung. “what do you mean where is this coming from? after all these years you’ve never once thought, ‘i’m gonna marry this girl’. you’ve never thought that?” your eyes began to sting, tears slowly brimming them.

“yn i love you. that’s true and will always be a fact. but. we’re so young still, i just don’t know if marriage is something i can think about yet…” heeseung’s voice was soft, yet it felt like knives were piercing your heart.

you could see the future ahead of you crumble away. “we’ve been dating since we were juniors. since we were seventeen. five years since then, and you don’t want to marry me?” your voice cracked as tears streamed down your face.

at this moment your heart was breaking apart, you couldn’t even look at the man you called your boyfriend. the same man you had been with for 5 years.

heeseung soon realized the fault in his words. “no yn. i didn’t mean it like that. what i’m trying to say is, i think i’m scared. i’m scared of messing things up, ruining everything, and just not being enough. marriage is this huge permanent thing. what if i ruin it?”

your glossy eyes looked at him, disbelief written on your face. “so you’d rather keep things uncertain? just let me keep planning a future you’re not even one hundred percent sure about?” you scoffed.

“yn. one thing is for certain. i’m sure about you. i’ve never been unsure about that.”

“then prove it…”

“i will. i promise.” heeseung hugged you, hoping to ease whatever you felt deep down. the only thing you could do was weakly hug him back.

in truth deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be able to. it wasn’t because he didn’t care, caring was never the problem. he loved you, yes—but he loved you in a way that didn’t reach the end of forever. heeseung feared that ledge more than loving you for a lifetime. that was the problem.

in the end, you stayed. you stayed because five years was hard to throw away. there were moments where you loved that comfort of familiarity, the shared laughter, his warm touch, waking up every morning next to him. as well as the simple things that reminded you of why you fell for him. you stayed because part of you was still in love with heeseung.

but soon, that love started to feel like a weight—heavy and uncertain.

as the weeks went on, you noticed the little things. how quick heeseung was to change the subject when you brought up the future. how his one promise rang more like a reassurance than a committed plan.

then one day, your heart stopped racing when you saw him—it sank. heeseung truly started to feel like a distant memory.

that summer night all those months ago opened your eyes to something. heeseung would never fully commit himself to a future with you, you would always be his girlfriend nothing more. you would never be a fiancé, wife, or even a mother.

then one day as the air began to chill and the leaves fell from the trees—signaling fall was finally here—you ended things with heeseung.

perm taglist ( open! refer to this post ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @ijustwannareadstuff20 @enhanextdoor @zaycie @dylanobr1ens @miraeluv @ancnymcnzjy @lvvrikss @treasureteez @sunghoon-cam

©myjjongie 2025

[buckybabybaby]

always pretty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (gender neutral)

(established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive, Bucky being beautiful, bff Joaquín has 3 lines)

Word count: 1k

*** SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS UNDER THE CUT ***

Plot: you see Bucky with his new hairstyle for the first time

Warnings: none :)

A/N: a small piece inspired by Bucky's hair in the post credit scene because I think we all agree its one of his best looks <3 that and the bit where he took his jacket off were very much for me

I haven't posted a Bucky x reader fic for 4 years now. New content = more inspiration apparently!

I saw thunderbolts on Friday and started this yesterday, it may only be 1000 words but I've never finished a drabble so quickly.

Also a little fix it for the Sambucky plot line </3 I didn't go in to detail as I don't know how they would resolve it, but after bnw I can't have them end like that :(

Masterlist

AO3

***

You sit outside the photography studio, nervous energy preventing you from even being able to scroll through your phone, eyes darting from the door, to the view out the window, to the many posters of previous work on the wall, and back to the door on repeat. It's been hours, but you are determined to wait.

Bucky's first time in his new avengers suit? Yeah, you weren't missing this.

He'd been so anxious this morning and your heart had melted. You understand though. Not only was he having his final fitting of his suit, they were also doing promotional shoots for the many magazines and websites that wanted an interview, so hair, makeup and endless poses were all on the schedule today.

Every time the door opens you look up expectantly, until eventually you see what you've been waiting for.

The new avengers file out, some acknowledging you, others clearly wanting to leave as quickly as possible. Joaquín bounds up to you, ever enthusiast, showing off his slightly altered falcon suit.

"You like?"

"I love." You grin at him. "Did it go okay?"

He nods, glancing back. "And Bucky did well, managed to tone down the grumpy old man vibes for once."

You make an offended noise, pushing at his chest lightly. "Don't be mean."

His teasing smile is infectious as he guides you towards the studio. "Go find him. He's probably exhausted after having to smile for more than five minutes."

You go to push him again but he's too fast, bidding you goodbye as you enter the doorway. Inside the screens and lighting supports are already being disassembled, staff streaming around you to get the place cleared quickly and making it a struggle to spot Bucky. Eventually you do, facing away from you talking to Sam on the far side of the room. You hesitate to approach, knowing how their friendship has been rocky recently, but then Sam laughs loudly at something Bucky's said, a natural laugh that has you relaxing as you make your way over. Their disagreement was almost as difficult for you as it was for Bucky, a horrible tense episode you don't want to return to anytime soon.

Sam notices you first, leaving Bucky with a final hand shake before pausing next to you on his way out.

"Who knew your man could look so good, huh?"

"And you. I'm sure your solo shots will be the cover photos."

He snorts. "Me and Bucky are cool now, no need to butter me up."

"Oh, I wasn't! I wouldn't-" You splutter before Sam takes pity on you, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, I'm joking." He squeezes you gently, smile softer now. "See you soon, yeah?"

You nod, watching him go. Turning back to Bucky, you walk over slowly, waiting for him to detect your presence. It takes him longer than usual, you're almost beside him by the time he does, like Joaquín said he must be worn out by all the attention and not quite his usual sharp self.

"Hey doll." He says, tilting his head towards you without getting up.

Moving in front of him, you step into his space to kiss him like always, until you get a good look at his outfit.

And his arm.

And his hair.

You stare. The 'a' on his chest has your own chest tight, knowing how much it means for him to be seen as a hero officially. It doesn't hurt that the top fits perfectly, that both his arms are defined in different ways, that the way they've styled his hair makes him look even more prince-like than ever.

"Is it bad?" He asks when you don't say anything.

"No, no! It's great-lovely-so nice." You rush to reassure him. "Did they blow dry you?"

"I think so? I just sat here and let them work." He shrugs.

"Okay, so you know I love your hair however you do it. But this," You reach out to brush the wave falling over his forehead. "This is my new favourite. You're always so pretty, I'm happy they managed to enhance it like this."

His smiles shyly at the floor, an unusual look for the former winter soldier. You're so endeared to him. This man is well over one hundred years old and a real life super hero, but you can still reduce him to a blushing mess with the right choice of words.

Tilting his head back up, you do kiss him now, only quickly as you need to take the whole look in again. He pouts as you pull away, only adding to his charm. One day you may get used to just how pretty he is, may find a way to not be left breathless just by his existence, not get distracted every time he looks your way.

Today, though, is not that day.

Climbing onto his lap, you bring him into a deeper kiss, feeling his body tense for a second before he relaxes, one arm snaking around your waist to hold you tight. Pressing yourself as close as possible, you can feel every firm edge of his uniform through your clothes, thoughts turning filthy in record time.

You break the kiss with a gasp to ask, "Are you allowed to take the suit home?"

"Oh?" He seems surprised but not displeased by the shift in mood. "It's like that is it?"

You whine in answer, not caring that the room is still very busy. Bucky cups your face to get a clear look at you, smirking as he sees how far gone you are just from a few kisses.

"I can take the suit home," He tells you, making you giggle in excitement. "Probably shouldn't mess it up too much too early, though. I know how you get"

You frown. "I can control myself."

"No you can't, sweetheart," Bucky argues correctly.

"Well, at least don't brush your hair through," You demand, delicately repositioning the loose strands around his face. "That is the best part."

"I can do that." His mouth meets yours again, briefly letting you get a taste of him before he releases you. Standing up, he drags you with him towards the exit, smiling cheekily over his shoulder. "Let's go prove how much you really like it."

***

Thank you for reading!

***

Masterlist

AO3

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ baby mine 2.0 ~ s. todoroki

sum: how would shoto feel about becoming a father? here's a little month-by-month on how things would feel/go.

pairing: husband! shoto todoroki x wife! reader

content: sfw - established relationship, pregnancy, just an overview. fluffy and sweet. epilogue spoilers of shoto’s hero position for anime only watchers/those not caught up on the manga/new fans.

a/n: oh hey, i'm finally back after my first week of training at my new job with a work i've been doing when i come home. this is just a little rewrite of baby mine which i posted a good few years ago, but i feel like this is a good follow-up to perfect as well (both of which will be linked below). as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated.

word count: 2,114

links: bnha/mha masterlist | baby mine | perfect | masterlist

The air felt thick as you paced back and forth, chewing on your fingernail as you looked at the object on the bathroom countertop. You should be used to this feeling, but you still felt the same antagonising dread at what you would see. And much like every other time, you prayed that this one would be different.

The sound of the timer going off brought you out of your little ritual, feet bringing you to a stop in front of the object. Maybe you should leave it, pretend this wasn't happening once again and throw the stupid thing away. You knew what you were about to see, a sight all too familiar these past few years.

Taking a shaky breath, you reached forward and grabbed hold of the object, hand shaking slightly as you stalled for a moment. This was like every other time, so why were you feeling more anxious this time? Deciding it was best to get it over and done with, you quickly turned the object over, only to be met with the words you never thought would appear for you.

‘Pregnant 3+’

Holding back a sob, you gripped the counter to ground yourself. This had to be a joke, right? A faulty test. Something just to get your hopes up before it was cruelly ripped away from you again. You didn't think you had it in you to go through that again.

A sudden knocking on the door brought you to your senses as you quickly wiped your eyes, hoping to catch any stray tears that had begun to fall. "(y/n)? Are you okay? You've been there a while this time". Of course, they were worried; you could tell by how they sounded.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you turned and walked towards the door, placing your hand on the handle and opening it with a small click. You looked up, taking in the person in front of you, the person who was just as worried as you were.

Shoto Todoroki - your husband and the current number two pro hero.

"Sorry my love, it took a little longer than I thought. I couldn’t find the towels…”. The look on his face told you that he knew exactly what you had been doing. Your ever attentive husband always knew when you were up to something, especially when it come to something like this.

It was no secret, that despite his past, both you and Shoto wanted to expand your family with a child of your own. A child that would no doubt be showered with love and given a childhood the pro never had a chance to have.

"So, tell me...". More tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold back another sob, unable to find the right words to say. Shoto, used to the heartbreak as well, sighed out, crushed that yet another attempt, to him, had been unsuccessful. "It's okay, there's always next time".

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he ran his hand through your hair. Trying to soothe you in one of the best ways he could. He knew it wasn't much but it was the best he could do. Feeling powerful, even as your husband was a gut wrenching feeling

"Sho, I'm pregnant". He looked at your teary eyes in shock as your words slowly began to sink in, looking down at your outstretched hand that held the test. A big smile tugging at his lips as he cupped your face, kissing you softly.

♡ Month 2 ♡

The feeling of being on cloud nine never left for you both, although Shoto was slightly wary. Sure his relationship with his father was slowly getting better but due to his childhood and upbringing, he was always left second-guessing himself.

What if he fucked up? What if he didn't fall into the role of being a father? Those questions stayed at the back of his mind, regardless of how much he pushed them aside. "Shoto, I still can't believe we're going to be parents".

Looking down at your belly, you smiled and rubbed your hand over your still soft stomach. As the days passed, it felt more like a dream. Sure, you'd suffered with the morning sickness, the bouts of fatigue, but you knew it would be worth it in the end. "We can't wait to see you, little one!".

The dual-haired male looked at you and smiled. He knew you'd support him in this journey, his past couldn't define how he was as a dad. Only he could, and with you by his side, he knew you would always cheer him on.

♡ Month 3 ♡

A blank screen greeted the two of you as you both entered a room, exchanging greetings with the sonographer.

Today was the day the two of you would get to see your child for the first time. Various 'what ifs' ran through your mind as you gripped Shoto's hand. His eyes looking into yours in a silent promise everything would be okay. He knew you wouldn’t be able to handle another heartbreak.

Laying yourself down, you got comfortable and closed your eyes as you waited for a sign that everything was fine. That the life growing inside you was still there and stronger than ever. The lump in your throat growing dangerously until you heard it.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

That small sound made you open your eyes, tears lining your waterline as you saw the tiny life on the screen. A slight squeeze of your hand drew your attention to Shoto, his eyes shining as he looked at your child.

"A perfectly happy and healthy baby. Such a strong heartbeat already".

Both of you smiled at each other, the tears finally slipping down the sides of your face as you took in the image. The lump that had been there moments ago was slowly disappearing as you gazed at the screen.

♡ Month 4 ♡

A small bump had begun to appear on you, your body finally starting to show the presence of the small life you were carrying. Your hand never left your bump whenever you had the time to touch it. "I guess I look kind of pregnant now".

Looking down, you smiled and wrapped your arms around your husband, your eyes meeting his before you closed yours slightly, falling into a much-needed sleep.

Glares over you, then down to where you were starting to swell. Shoto’s eyes flashed in slight worry before returning to normal, gently placing a hand on yours, careful not to wake your sleeping form.

He wasn't going to lie, he was scared. Scared of what was to come and the type of father he'd be. No one could blame him, not even you, but you'd support him no matter what.

♡ Month 5 ♡

Facing the ultrasound screen again, the pair of you chatted amongst yourselves, having the odd argument about the gender of your child. Of course, you didn't mind what you were having, but it was nice to have a little friendly bet on who would be right.

The small image of your child appeared on the screen again as your hearts began thumping in disbelief, the high you felt gazing on the small life never leaving. Everything was perfect and normal, even seeing what looked like a small wave or two.

"Now, would you like to know the gender?". You both looked at each other, nodding with a smile. It might have seemed like a stupid question, one that others would most likely say no to, but to you and Shoto, it would mean you would get to prepare for what was to come.

"Well, I can tell you both, you're having a perfectly healthy baby-".

♡ Month 6 ♡

Clothes. Toys. Essentials.

You name it, it began to pile up as you started to finally prepare properly for the arrival of your child. Emotions had began to run high, and if it wasn't floods of tears, it was hot tempers. Your hormones weren't helping you whatsoever, as the slightest thing would set you off.

Shoto walked into the bedroom to find you curled up on the bed, a small baby grow hugged to your chest as you sobbed. In an obvious panic, he ran over and held you close to him after he sat down. "Hey, baby, what's wrong?".

That sentence, despite coming from a good place, made you cry harder, muffled sobbing sounding against his chest.

Turns out you were emotional over the fact that a small baby could fit into that piece of clothing.

♡ Month 7 ♡

Shoto's family gushed over you continually, making sure you were safe and comfortable whenever you visited them with Shoto.

Fuyumi and Rei would excitedly touch your bump, asking a variety of questions. Gossiping and sharing stories of how Shoto was as a baby, some making you laugh at your husband’s embarrassment.

Natsuo would spend time with Shoto, casually talking about life with his younger brother. Especially how he was feeling regarding the upcoming arrival and, despite not being a father himself, encouraging him to enjoy the years ahead.

Enji, on the other hand, would sit back and watch on. Taking in the buzz around him with a somewhat contented smile on his face. He still has a bit of a way to go before he could be a part of the family unit.

♡ Month 8 ♡

Things became more painful and tiring for you as your body ached. You wanted nothing more than for the heavy feeling to go and have your baby in your arms. Showering them with all the cuddles and kisses you could manage. "(y/n), it won't be long now, I promise".

You looked up a little and smiled, the overwhelming tiredness visible on your face. He hated not being able to help you, take away the pain you felt, the uneasiness, but most of all the worry. The worry that something was going to go wrong, regardless of you both making it this far.

Resting a hand on your swollen belly, you felt the strong movements as you hummed out. Taking hold of your husband's hand, you rested it on the place you had your hand moments ago, just in time to feel a kick.

"I hope so, Shoto. I just want to meet our little one".

♡ Month 9 ♡

A new cry pierced the silence of the room, ringing loud and clear as you gripped onto Shoto. The two of you smiled as tears slipped down your faces. The emotions you felt finally crashed through you at once. "You did it (y/n)! I'm so proud of you".

Shoto placed soft kisses on your dazed face as a small bundle was placed into your arms. The baby moved around slightly, settling down on the softness of its mother's skin, beginning its first feed. Eyes opening slightly before shutting, suckling away.

"White hair with red tips, gorgeous blue eyes. She's definitely a Todoroki".

You looked up as Shoto sat down beside you, giving a tired smile as you nodded your head. The past months had been a whirlwind. Despite the tiring time you’d just been through and the way your body ached, this moment made it worth every single second.

♡ The first year ♡

The tiring nights. The endless amount of changes and feeds.

Shoto couldn't deny it; it was hard. Really hard. He constantly second-guessed himself, and he didn't feel like he was good enough. Even during those doubtful times, you encouraged him as his biggest supporter, be that through words or actions, you always made sure he was okay.

Things became slightly easier, and cuddles and kisses became more frequent as your daughter grew. New milestones and wonders greeted you all. Even Shoto's family adored their niece and granddaughter. Especially Enji, who took his time, taking great care not to mess up this time around.

Then came the words.

The day she said "Dada".

Shoto sat crying. Normally, he wasn't one for showing emotion, but the moment she said that, he couldn't hold back. From the moment he found out you were finally pregnant to the first time holding his beautiful daughter, he couldn't believe he could be a dad, yet he was such a perfect dad to this little girl who couldn't help but adore the very ground he walked on.

Picking her up, he gently rocked the small girl as her eyes slowly closed, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

"I've got you, princess. Daddy will keep you safe. I'll always be your number one hero, no matter what happens".

permanent tags; @ani-net

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[thirteenheavens]

hii can i req an enemies to lovers fic w scenario 1 where y/n gets stranded in a snowy cabin w hoshi (rival)

-🐯

Snowed in||Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

Notes: buckle in guys it’s a long one <3

You pulls up to the secluded cabin, the snowflakes already falling as you unload your bags from the car. The quiet surroundings seem almost eerie, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not alone. You shiver as you step out of the car, your breath visible in the cold air. As you approach the cabin, the door swings open and out steps Soonyoung, or Hoshi as everyone calls him. He's already dressed in warm clothes and looks annoyed to see you.

"What are you doing here?" he snaps, crossing his arms. "I thought I was the first one to arrive."

"Well, clearly I was faster," you retort, rolling your eyes as you try to brush past him into the cabin. "Don't worry, I'll stay out of your way." Hoshi steps in front of you, blocking your path. "No, you won't," he says firmly. "I don't want to be stuck here alone with you. Can't you just leave?"

You scoff and glare at him. "As if I'd want to be stuck here with you either. But I'm already here, so we might as well make the best of it." Just as the tension between you and Hoshi reaches its peak, your shared friend's call comes through on Hoshi's phone. He answers it with an irritated sigh, stepping aside to take the call.

"Yeah, what is it?" he snaps into the phone, shooting you a dirty look as he walks further into the cabin. You hear him talking in hushed tones, the conversation clearly agitated.

"Wait, what do you mean everyone else is stuck in traffic?" he exclaims, his voice growing louder. "And the storm is getting worse?" Hoshi ends the call with a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. "Great, just great," he mutters, turning to face you. "Apparently the roads are blocked and everyone else is stuck in traffic. We're the only ones who made it here." He paces back and forth in the small living room, his annoyance growing by the minute. "This is all your fault, you know. If you hadn't gotten here first, I wouldn't be stuck with you."

"Oh, don't even start with that," you snap back, crossing your arms. "It's not my fault that the roads were clearer earlier. And it's not my fault that you can't handle being around me for more than five minutes." Hoshi glares at you, his jaw clenched in anger. "You're so full of yourself. I can't stand how you always have to be right and how you think you're better than everyone else." The cabin feels even smaller as the tension between you grows thicker, the snowstorm outside raging on.

You and Hoshi sit on opposite ends of the sofa, the only sounds in the cabin being the crackling of the fire and the faint buzzing of the TV. The awkward silence is suffocating, but neither of you seems willing to break it. Hoshi occasionally glances at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and something else you can't quite place. The tension is palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

As the hours pass, the storm outside grows worse, and you realize that you're both stuck here for the night. Hoshi finally breaks the silence, his voice low and strained. "We need to figure out how to make this work. We can't just sit here in silence all night."

You turn to look at him, surprised by his sudden willingness to talk. "What do you suggest we do, then?" you ask, your tone still guarded. He shrugs, running a hand through his hair again. "I don't know... maybe we can play a game or something. Or at least try to be civil."

Despite your mutual dislike, the prospect of being stuck together for an entire night starts to weigh heavily on both of you. The cabin seems to shrink even more as the snow continues to fall outside. Hoshi gets up from the sofa and heads to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets until he finds a bottle of wine and some snacks. He returns to the living room with an armful of food and drinks, setting them down on the coffee table between you.

"Here," he says, pouring you a glass of wine. "We might as well make the best of it." You hesitate for a moment before accepting the glass, taking a small sip as Hoshi sits back down on the opposite end of the sofa. The tension in the room seems to have shifted slightly, but it's still present.

Hoshi grabs a handful of chips and offers you the bag. "Truce?" he asks, his expression serious. You eye him suspiciously for a moment before nodding and taking a chip. "Truce," you agree, albeit reluctantly. "For tonight only."

Hoshi relaxes a bit at your response, leaning back against the sofa and reaching for the remote. "So, what do you want to watch?" he asks, flipping through the channels. The wine starts to work its magic, and as you both settle into watching a movie, the air between you grows less hostile. You steal glances at Hoshi when he's not looking, noting the way his features soften when he's focused on the screen.

The snow continues to fall outside, but inside the cabin, a fragile truce begins to form between you and your reluctant companion. As the night wears on and the wine bottle empties, you and Hoshi find yourselves laughing and joking together, surprising each other with your mutual sense of humor.

"I can't believe we were fighting earlier," you say, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "This is much better." Hoshi nods in agreement, his expression surprisingly warm. "Yeah, I guess we were both being stubborn for no reason. You're not as bad as I thought you were." The wine has loosened both of your tongues, and the barriers between you begin to crumble further. You share stories and memories, realizing that you have more in common than you initially believed.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Hoshi glances at you with a newfound softness in his eyes. "Maybe we should do this more often," he suggests, his voice gentle. You feel your heart skip a beat as Hoshi moves closer to you on the sofa, his body heat radiating against your side. The air between you grows warmer, and the tension from earlier has transformed into something entirely different.

"You know," he says, his voice low and husky. "You look really beautiful when you laugh." Your cheeks flush at the compliment, and you take another sip of wine to hide your reaction. The small distance between you seems to disappear as Hoshi's gaze lingers on your face.

"Hoshi..." you start, unsure of where this is going. "I didn't know you could be so... nice." He chuckles softly, his hand brushing against yours on the sofa. "I have my moments," he says, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. Your breath catches in your throat as Hoshi's fingers continue to trace patterns on your skin, sending sparks of electricity through your body. The air between you is charged with electricity, and the wine has made you both bolder.

"Maybe I misjudged you too," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're not the arrogant jerk I thought you were." Hoshi leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours. "I'm glad you see that now," he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. "And I'm glad we're stuck here together."

The snowstorm rages on outside, but inside the cabin, everything has changed. The realization hits you that perhaps there's something more between you and Hoshi than just mutual dislike. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoshi's lips brush against yours, the kiss tentative at first, then growing more confident as he deepens it. The taste of wine and something uniquely him fills your senses.

He pulls you closer, one hand cupping your face while the other slides around your waist. Your body melts into his touch, the tension and animosity from earlier completely forgotten. The kiss grows more heated, tongues tangling together as your hands explore each other's bodies. Hoshi breaks away to trail kisses down your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he whispers against your skin, his voice rough with desire. Your mind is spinning as Hoshi's hands slide under your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and the knowledge that he wants you as much as you want him sends a thrill through your body.

"We should... we should probably move this to the bedroom," he suggests, his voice rough with need. "If you want to, that is." You nod, unable to form words as desire consumes you. Hoshi stands up and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway to the only bedroom in the cabin. As he closes the door behind you, he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands already working to remove your clothes.

Your clothes fall to the floor in a pile as Hoshi guides you backward towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours. His hands explore your body with growing urgency, mapping every curve and dip. You feel the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and Hoshi gently pushes you down onto the mattress. He climbs on top of you, his body covering yours as he kisses a path down your chest.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his lips closing around one of your nipples. "I've wanted you for so long." You arch up into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair as he switches to the other nipple, giving it equal attention. The air is filled with the sound of your moans and the rustling of sheets as Hoshi continues to worship your body. Hoshi kisses his way down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. "We can still stop if you want." Your heart is racing, but you don't hesitate as you reach down to pull him back up for a kiss. "I'm sure," you whisper against his lips. "I want this. I want you." Hoshi groans at your words, his lips claiming yours in a fierce kiss as he slides your panties down your legs. His fingers find your wet folds, and he groans again at how ready you are for him.

"So wet," he says, his voice thick with desire. "All for me." Your hips buck against his hand as he slides a finger inside you, then another. The feeling of his fingers stretching you sends waves of pleasure through your body, and you gasp his name.

Hoshi continues to work you with his fingers, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles as he watches your reactions. "You're so responsive," he says, his voice rough with arousal. "I can't wait to be inside you." He kisses you deeply as he removes his fingers, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. The sound of a condom wrapper being opened fills the air, and you hear him rolling it on.

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "Are you ready?" he asks again, his eyes locked on yours. You nod frantically, too lost in pleasure to form words. Hoshi pushes into you slowly, filling you inch by inch until he's fully seated inside.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead resting against yours. "You feel amazing." He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he starts moving, his hips thrusting in a slow, deep rhythm. The stretch is deliciously painful, and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

The cabin fills with the sounds of your moans and skin slapping against skin as Hoshi picks up the pace, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. Hoshi takes his time, dragging out each thrust and savoring every moment. His lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as he continues to drive into you at a torturously slow pace.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispers against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. "I want to make this last." You dig your nails into his back, desperate for more, but he refuses to speed up. Instead, he changes the angle of his hips, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

The pleasure builds slowly but intensely, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. Sweat beads on both of your bodies as the room fills with the scent of sex and desire. Hoshi's control begins to slip as your walls flutter around him, his pace picking up just slightly. He buries his face in your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he thrusts deeper.

"I'm not going to last much longer," he groans, one hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit again. "Come for me, Y-N." The combination of his fingers on your clit and his cock hitting your g-spot sends you hurtling over the edge. You cry out his name as you come, your body trembling beneath him.

Hoshi follows seconds later, his hips stuttering as he spills into the condom. He collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from your high. Hoshi rolls onto his side, pulling you with him so you're facing each other. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you close as you both catch your breath.

"That was..." he starts, trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "That was amazing." You nod in agreement, feeling a mix of satisfaction and confusion. The animosity from earlier has completely disappeared, replaced by something much more intense.

"I don't know what this means," you say softly, looking up at him. "But I don't want to forget what just happened." Hoshi brushes a strand of hair from your face, his expression uncharacteristically tender. "Neither do I," he admits, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Maybe we can figure it out tomorrow." The snowstorm outside shows no signs of stopping, and you find yourself growing sleepy in Hoshi's arms. The events of the night have left you emotionally drained, and you feel safe and secure in his embrace.

"You can stay here tonight," he murmurs, pulling the blankets up over both of you. "It's not like we have much choice with the storm." You nod, too tired to argue, and snuggle closer to him. His body is warm against yours, and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a steady rhythm.

"Goodnight, Y-N," he whispers, his breath tickling your ear. "Sleep well."