#i really hope i didnt overwhelm you all by the way

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

i wish i had more thoughts on the playlist event beyond "omg its so cool its happening" and "omg im so sad its ending" etc etc. i need to like reread what's been said about each playlist bc that's the one thing I probably dont do enough. i just have the gist of what i remember from when i read it on sunday and then the rest of it is just me going "whoa i can really see xyz listening to this" except for jopson who i constantly want to strangle bc what the fuck do u mean. Jopson and miss jamie's mixtape drive me up the WALLS im ripping my nails off thinking about them (jopson what do u listen to off the clock brother and well. dave just tell me who put what on the playlist u dont need to confirm anything at all beyond who put what on the playlist, just give me one song per guy dave i dont think its a big ask)

[deus-ex-mona]

the ✨fickleness✨ of the heart

[norrisainz33]

baby blue || cs55

☆ summary: carlos sainz is married to famous pop star y/n who has been connected to the f1 world for years having been a mercedes ambassador and good friends with lewis hamilton. after a video of y/n and lewis surfaces, y/n shares some big news with the spanish driver.

☆ pairing: carlos sainz x famous!wife!reader x lewis hamilton

☆ fc & warnings: rihanna! a little angsty, mentions of pregnancy, translated spanish

☆ requested: yes! thanks for this idea and for your patience. had to add in some written parts to this to tell the story! hope you enjoy xxoo

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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ynuser: 📍 bahrain

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user1: pink is your color

dualipa: real! miss u my sweet gorgeous girl

user33: you just gonna post like we didnt see the video from the paddock

user18: no for realllll like girl be soooo for real

user1: nah nah nah you guys need to but out you know nothing!! they're just friends. we dont need to scrutinize everything they do

tatemcrae: my icon fr

user2: ynlewis supremacy

user8: seems like shes a ynlewis truther herself bsed on that video

user3: lewishamilton come get your girl

user4: more like carlossainz55 come get your girl yikes

[comments on this post have been limited]

✿

staring down at your phone you watched as the video played over and over each replay making your stomach twist a little more. you cursed yourself for not remembering where you were before having your very public breakdown in front of lewis at ferrari hospitality. what was supposed to be a quick visit to tell lewis (one of your closest friends) that red suited him and say a quick hello to alexandra had spiraled into something entirely different. one moment you were complimenting him and the next you were sobbing in his arms. of course, the media caught every second of it and in true fashion they plastered the video everywhere. the rumors started flying almost immediately with the world convinced you and lewis were more than just friends as they have been for years.

but here's how the conversation really went:

"hi lewis!! god that red is doing wonders for you right now," you smiled as you took in the sight of your best friend decked out in ferrari gear.

"thanks, y/n/n. i think so too," he grinned - his confidence and happiness clear.

"you ready to hop in that car and show everyone you’ve still got it grandpa?"

"absolutely. you know better than anyone how much i want to make this work." his voice was full of sincerity and something about the way he said it made your chest tighten and tears started welling up in your eyes.

"oh no, don't cry on me now…" he said his hand gently brushing at your cheek.

you laughed but it was shaky as the tears fully spilled down your face. "sorry, sorry… i just - i'm so excited for you, and i miss danny and checo," you rambled suddenly feeling overwhelmed. he gave you a confused look not exactly sure where all of this was coming form.

"something tells me there's more to this, y/n/n," he said his tone shifting as he took a step closer.

without thinking, you blurted it out. "i’m pregnant."

lewis froze for a split second before pulling you into a tight hug, letting you cry into his shoulder. the kind of cry that left you feeling both raw and relieved at the same time.

"hey, hey— the cameras are loving this," alexandra’s voice suddenly broke through and she frantically pushed both of you toward the ferrari hospitality area her tone full of urgency.

as she led the way you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything.... the unexpected turn your life had taken and the way the world was watching every moment unfold and it was too late to take it all back now.

✿

ynuser has posted a story

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user1: wow a rare carlos sighting on a story.. awk timing after that vid....

carlossainz55: wow posting me? surprised its not lewis.

ynuser: carlos don't start please. you know its not like that

carlossainz55: then why was it lewis holding you while you were crying and not me? and why won’t you even tell me what happened?

ynuser: i did tell you. it’s just been so overwhelming lately especially with the pressure from my label to release new music. on top of that i haven’t been feeling great which makes everything harder. you literally held my hair while i threw up all night. come on carlos please.

carlossainz55: mi amor you know I’ve had a hard time with your relationship with lewis. and now that he’s taken my seat… it just gets harder to see him in ferrari red while comforting my wife. it’s hard not to feel jealous!

ynuser: i’m really sorry carlos. i can’t even imagine how that feels. focus on your last practice session and get the data you need. we can talk properly when you’re back at the hotel ok?

carlossainz55: fine but you’ll explain everything word for word right?

ynuser: of course. now go -- i see on tv that the power’s back on

carlossainz55: yeah yeah ill go. i love you -- even when im upset

ynuser: i love you too. always

user33: damage control?

alexandrasaintmleux: love you pretty girl. please let me know if you need anything both charlie and i are here for you too

ynuser: i love you more alex 🤍 thank you for always supporting me. oh and for noticing the cameras before they got too much

alexandrasaintmleux: thats what friends are for. please please please keep me updated

user10: i just know everyone's tearing u up in these replies so im here to say i love and support you bb

lewishamilton: did you tell him yet?

ynuser: considering you’re both at the same testing... no I haven’t

lewishamilton: oh don't give me that. you could have told him last night!!

ynuser: yeah well i was scared!!

lewishamilton: sweetheart, the faster you rip off the bandaid the faster he (and everyone else) stops getting the complete wrong idea

ynuser: i know i know i know!!!!!! easier said than done here lewis.

lewishamilton: he tried to approach me this morning and i was able to avoid it but if he comes to me and starts asking what is up... i'm not going to lie

ynuser: alright message received. him and i agreed to talk everything out tonight.

lewishamilton: good.

user11: idc abt this man release new music pls im begging its been ages

schecoperez: mi amiga what in the world is going on?

ynuser: too much honestly... i'll call you bc BOY do i have a lot to share and ALSO i miss you SO MUCH

schecoperez: will be impatiently waiting :)

user44: tbh idc abt f1.. id rather see pics of u. free my queen from this nonsense sport!!!!

✿

you flopped back onto the giant hotel bed letting out a big sigh. alex and lily had just left after giving you the pep talk of a lifetime and dropping off the cake. if it wasn't for them and all the effort they’d put into running around bahrain to find someone who could make you this cake, you probably would’ve chickened out of telling carlos altogether. it wasn’t something either of you had planned for yet. you’d only gotten married a few months ago and between carlos switching to a new team and the insane pressure your label had been piling on you, it felt like the wrong time to be having a baby. hence, your breakdown in the paddock with lewis. but like alex and lily said everything happens for a reason and maybe this was just the moment it was meant to happen, no matter how daunting it all felt.

you quickly sat up when you heard carlos fumbling with the door to the hotel room and immediately, tears started to well up. you tried to hold them back but they came rushing down as soon as carlos stepped through the door. his brow furrowed when he saw you crying on the bed.

"mi amor..." he sighed setting his things down on the couch and shrugging off his williams jacket. "what’s going on with you?" he asked gently kneeling in front of you and placing his hands on your bare knees.

you were fully sobbing now desperately wiping away the tears as he watched you in silence. "i just... i..." you tried to speak but the words got tangled up in your sobs making it harder to get them out.

"cariño take a deep breath," he said softly taking your hand in his and giving it a firm squeeze. you obeyed and took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. which wasn’t easy these days with all the changes your body was going through. eventually you shook your head not being able to calm yourself enough and pointed toward the box on the table hoping he would understand. carlos’ eyes followed your finger and he stood up walking over to the table. "y/n, what is...?" he stopped mid-sentence struck silent as he stared down at the contents of the box—a small cake with 'we’re having a baby' written on it and a pregnancy test sitting next to it.

you kept focusing on your breathing summoning the courage to look at your husband who stood completely still. in the endless seconds it took for him to react - guilt, panic, and despair began to settle in. "i’m sorry, carlos, i know this is a horrible time. i should’ve told you earlier, we should’ve talked about this first, and i just—i’m sorry this—"

"stop, y/n," he interrupted, his voice thick with emotion. you couldn’t tell if the tears in his eyes were good or bad. but then in the blink of an eye, his face softened and his expression lightened up. "don’t apologize for this, my love." he picked up the test and glanced back at you. "this is real?"

"yes," you whispered.

he dropped the test moving swiftly toward you and pulling you into a tight embrace. "we’re going to have a baby chili," he mumbled into your neck holding you like he never wanted to let go. and with that all of your worries melted away.

✿

ynuser has posted to their private story

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lando: what u posting close ups of food for

ynuser: you’ll find out when you’re older

lando: tf that supposed to mean

ynuser: means you can’t keep a secret to save your life

lando: a man accidentally includes a photo from a wedding in 1!!!! photo dump and he can’t ever come back from it

ynuser: exactly

lando: 🤨

lilymhe: THE CAKE HAS BEEN EATEN???

ynuser: it has!!!!!! and everything is ok

lilymhe: i’m so relieved

carlossainz55: the best cake i’ve ever had 🤍

ynuser: i'm really quite glad you think so

carlossainz55: of course gorgeous. i am so excited that we get to be parents

ynuser: i'm so happy that you're happy

carlossainz55: over the moon actually. i already called the florist and local bakery near casa de mi familia to get everything sorted for when we tell them in a couple weeks. i also sent you room service and some special deliveries so if you hear a loud knock on the door this morning, just know its from me

ynuser: carlos 😭😭😭😭

carlossainz55: i also may or may not have already slipped and told teto..........

ynuser: I THOUGHT WE WERE TELLING HIM AND GIGI AT DINNER ONCE YOU OFFICIALLY FINISHED TESTNG

carlosainz55: ....... i mean that was the plan originally but we were cycling this morning and he could tell something was up and well i couldnt lie!! i swore him to secrecy it is ok

ynuser: i'm making my lawyers send him an nda

carlossainz55: LOL

ynuser: i'm serious

carlossainz55: oh... well in that case… whatever makes you feel best my love!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: details mon ange

ynuser: he finally got back after testing and i completely broke down into tears bc of course i did—im a mess with these hormones. he immediately was worried ofc and was like “mi amor, what’s wrong?” but I couldn’t even stop crying long enough to explain. so i just pointed at the cake box instead and then be opened it, stared at it for what felt like an eternity… honestly, it was probably 8 million years and then HE started crying. which just made me cry even more. but honestly after we got everything out it felt like really good. he was beyond excited like already talking about the little one and brainstorming names and looking up where to buy baby clothes in spain and already planning how to tell his family and mine

alexandrasaintmleux: 🥹😭 see!! it was all ok!!! i’m so so so glad he was excited. i knew he would be!! he wanted so badly to be dad

lewishamilton: so?

ynuser: i told him

lewishamilton: thank god!! now i can assume uncle duties without getting my face bashed in

ynuser: you’re so dramatic

yourbff: i’m so happy for you guys 😭

ynuser: thank you sweetheart 😘

dualipa: assuming i’m missing context here

ynuser: i’ll face time you baby girl

carlossainz55 has posted to his story

[sharing the joy with our family ☀️💙]

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anasainzvdec: mi hermano i am so excited for you. i can't wait to be an auntie 🤍

carlossainz55: i love you ana! you will be the world's best aunt

user2: PINON!!!!!!

carlossainzoficial: ¡tal vez la mayor alegría que hayas podido compartir con nosotros! [perhaps the greatest joy you could have shared with us!]

carlossainz55: me alegro. no puedo esperar a que seas abuelo, papá. [i am glad. i can't wait for you to be a grandfather, dad]

carlossainzoficial: estoy muy orgulloso del hombre en el que te has convertido y de la vida que has construido con y/n. [i'm so proud of the man you have become and the life you have built with y/n]

carlossainz55: ¡no me hagas llorar papá! [don't make me cry dad]

user4: sharing joy??? with your family..... what does this mean?

lando: google translating this as we speak

lando: and what joy are you sharing and why are you not also sharing it with me?

carlossainz55: i will be on sunday muppet. you are coming to dinner at my house no?

lando: oh heck yeah ill be there

user18: what an interesting wording you have here mr.sainz - what are you talking about?

ynuser: petition to bring pinon with us everywhere

carlossainz55: jajaaj i don't know that she would like that

ynuser: 😭😭😭😭😭 fair ig. tho i think a baby and a puppy would be a perfect pair......

user55: the world is healing youre back with pinon

alexandrasaintmleux: EEEEEEK!!!!!! y/n filled me in on how it went. truly so excited for you. i can't wait for the big dinner party where you're telling all of us 🤍

carlossainz55: i am very much looking forward to this weekend. we'll see you soon mi amiga

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carlossainz55: spent the weekend celebrating the news with some of my favorite people. you are so loved already baby chili. you're mommy, daddy and loads of aunties and uncles can't wait to meet you so very soon 💙🌶️

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user55: crying my eyes out rn you have no idea

ynuser: thankful for you, our baby boy, and the amazing people we have supporting us 🤍

carlossainz55: even more thankful for you for giving me the greatest gift i could have ever asked for my beautiful wife

user85: may a love like this find me expeditiously

user1: well…. a baby wasn’t on my bingo card

lando: dibs on teaching baby chili how to drive

charlesleclerc: i already called dibs

georgerussell63: no i believe i did

carlossainz55: frankly, i dont trust any of you to teach him

charlesleclerc: WOW

user4: congratulations 😭 i'm seething with jealousy 😭

alex_albon: can't wait to be the favorite uncle

lilymhe: with me as the favorite aunt

alexandrasaintmleux: um hello? i'm going to be the favorite aunt

lando: FALSE I AM THE FAVORITE AUNT

ynuser: guys please lets not fight

user23: carlando having their own pic at the end is sending me. classic carlando behavior

user13: man this vroom vroom got my girl and now they’re having a baby? smh

lewishamilton: congratulations you two! overjoyed to see two of my favorite people becoming parents ❤️

carlossainz55: thank you 💙

user88: tea

user56: so many of the drivers being at their baby shower has me in genuine shambles im not ok this grid baby is going to be so loved

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: phew this took me forever... hope you enjoy!! likes and reblogs appreciated as always ❤️‍🔥

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[uhhhj13iguess]

in his flannel

stiles stilinski x fem!reader (no (y/n) use)

summary: you show up for a study session in a particular choice of clothing

wc: ~900

a best friends to lovers trope is at no moment NOT running through my head. i'm also entirely thinking of buzzcut!stiles in this

masterlist

when stiles opened the door, his mouth was dry on impact. there you stood, innocent and ready to study for your upcoming test -- in his flannel. he didn’t remember when it came into your possession, but he didn’t care.

he didnt even know he wanted so badly to see you in his clothing, until now, where he just can't seem to take his eyes off of you.

you.

in his shirt.

"stiles? can i come in, or..."

you spoke suddenly, breaking stiles from his trance. he shook his head dramatically, cringing at his first impression at the door.

"yeah jesus sorry, come in."

he stepped out of the way, making small talk as you made your way to his room, unloading your textbooks and notes across his bed. you sprawled out, laying on your stomach as you began to flip through the pages. stiles' eyes once again fell to the way his flannel fell against the curves of your body, his own feeling too hot suddenly.

he hadn't really thought of you this way before. okay, that was a lie, but he never took it seriously. he’d known you forever, and anytime he felt you unconsciously slip into his thoughts, he felt embarrassed to be thinking of his best friend like that and pushed it away. but now, seeing a shirt he had worn a few days earlier now draped over what he can only presume as your bare torso, he was torn between feelings of cuteness aggression and wanting to rip the shirt off of you.

you could sense the gaze, looking towards his frame slumped at his desk, smiling as he turned away as though he'd been caught.

he cleared his throat. "so. where do you want to start?"

you weighed your response carefully.

stiles had left his flannel in your car the other night after dropping him off, and you hadn't taken it off since. originally, you'd put it in your backpack to bring to him the next day, however after being sleepless long enough, you grabbed it, hoping the extra warmth would send you dreaming.

you were awake the rest of the night.

you couldn't get over the smell. when his scent first hit your nose, you found it calming, sure it would bring you a sense of comfort and immediately put you to sleep. as it turns out, it was taunting.

with the smell of espresso and fresh linen overwhelming you, the only thing on your mind was stiles. everything about him, every memory of you two, every accidental touch -- suddenly, it was all you could think about.

in the back of your mind, you always knew there was something special about him. something deeper within him that drew the two of you together. stiles made you feel every single thing with so much more passion, so much more intention. but you'd brushed it off, convincing yourself you were crazy.

that he didn't feel that way.

but he was flustered, and you hoped you were right about why.

"so, where do you want to start?"

you let out a hum, toying with the topmost button on his flannel, blushing as you noticed his eyes honed in on your actions. you sat up slowly, trying to build any ounce of courage you had.

"i want to start with why you're being so weird today."

stiles cleared his thoat, scratching the back of his head and turning back towards his desk. he shuffled his papers. "I, uh I mean, I don't know what you're talking about, I'm being completely normal."

you sat up facing him, tugging at his sleeves. "sti-"

"why are you wearing my shirt?"

your eyes shot up and you frowned immediately. suddenly uncomfortable, you wrapped your arms around your waist and looked down.

"oh, im sorry, you left it in my car and I didn't think it would be--"

"no no it's okay i just-"

"-- an issue, i have a sweatshirt in my bag I can--"

"-- i like it"

you looked up at him, completely silent. your brain fought hard to process what he said and how you could be reading it incorrectly.

"you..."

"i'm sorry, i, that sounded weird, jesus. i just mean its fine that you, you know you're wearing it, and--"

"stiles."

he shut up. he knew he was rambling and he just hoped he wasn’t reading the situation incorrectly. he locked eyes with you, anxious and listless.

"i wore it so you would notice."

stiles felt hot again.

he took a shaky breath, trying to think past the growing tension in the room. he wheeled his chair closer where you were sitting.

"oh"

you swung your feet over the edge of the bed.

"yeah"

both of you would swear that time stopped. the air got thick, and the moment was a blur. you don't know who made the first move, but suddenly you were both standing, your lips against each other in a relieving kiss. neither of you had allowed yourselves to imagine this moment seriously, yet here it was, and you had no idea how you’d lived without it before this.

his lips moved sweetly across yours, nervous but needy. it felt like forever before you pulled away, your body impatiently reminding you of its need to breathe.

both of you blushed, foreheads touching as you relished in the moment.

"i think i'm going to start forgetting my clothes around you more often."

[sillyhanako]

〜 ˚ 🥞 baby boy ⟡ .

୨ৎ﹒taking care of your sick boyfriend, sakura! ﹒୨ৎ

✦ cw . gn!reader, tooth rotting fluff, sakura likes your cooking, babying, very very adorbs sakura, he doesnt know whats a massage, sakura is in denial he has friends, him overcoming his fear :), readers affection overwhelms him, reader teasing sakura x3 1666 words

✦ whispers . One of my proudest works yet.

As you wiped down the last table in Kotoha's cozy café, a familiar sense of comfort washed over you—the smell of the delicious signature omurice the gentle hum of the customers, and the luring aroma of baked goods that always seemed to fill the air. It was an ordinary day, filled with the usual hustle and bustle. You were so caught up in the rhythm of the afternoon rush that you didn’t notice the odd stillness in your phone.

It wasn’t until your lunch break that you finally let yourself relax, sinking into a chair in the sunlit corner of the café. You reached for your phone, expecting to see the usual “good morning” message that Sakura sends before meeting up with his friends. But no new messages were seen in your chat history. Unsettled, but you just assumed his mind was occupied with something else—after all, he was in a gang “school".

You shook off the cloud of concern and reminded yourself that Sakura had been going through a lot lately, figuring out these new strange emotions he's been feeling ever since he put a foot in this town.

A "Ping!" Sound came out of your phone that almost startled you. You hoped to see a message from him, saying he forgot to wish you a good morning or that he was visiting the cafe, but to your disappointment you found out it was one of his friends. Suo Hayato was it? .

"Good Afternoon mr/miss [name], i was wondering if you've seen sakura today? He is nowhere to be seen at Furin. We are a bit concerned as it is unusual for him to go radio silent all of a sudden."

"He isnt with you guys? Thats really unusual for him. Im unfortunately just as confused as you ^^' i'll visit him after my shift. Thanks for letting me know!"

"Ah, no worries."

What? Sakura isn't at Furin? Where could he then be? He's really not the type to skip school for any given reason. You just hoped he was safe somewhere— his apartment you hoped— and not ganged up in a one-way alleyway. You decided you would pay his apartement a visit after your shift.

"Knock. Knock" was the sound you made when you knocked at his sparsely furnished apartment door, you didnt know how sakura found such place in the first place. Sure it looks...haunted? from the outside but in the incide it was quiet decent. It would be better if sakura wasnt lazy and accepted your help with decorating it and making it less bland.

"helloooo? anyone here? Sakura?" You tried pushing the door after getting no answers, surprisingly it was open? You were going to give him an earful about how dangerous eaving his door open. But first you had to find him. "Sakura? Are you here?" You heard a weird grunt seemingly replying to your calls, you decided to follow the sound only to find a something laying under this big blue blanket, what gave it away it was sakura was those two black and white strands of hair poking out. You released a sigh of relief that you didnt realise you were holding, so thats where hes been all day huh?

"aah! There you are! Ive been concerned when i didnt see your daily good morning text— even suo texted me about-!"  You kneeled to reach his eye level only to find his face flushed with teary eyes. Then you realised. "Sakura baby, are you sick?"

upon realizing his situation, you quickly got to work. You immediately stood up and ran out of the room, maybe the apartment too since sakura senses were not working as efficiently. But after you came back he knew why you left him so suddently - it was because you wanted to buy the necessary ingredients for a chicken soup.

The smell absolutely bewitched him, afterall he only had a water bottle the whole day - he doesnt know how to cook and with his sickness he felt extra weak and couldnt sum up the courage to walk down the noisy street. So you treating him with chicken soup while holding him against your chest felt oddly nice and didnt have any real arguments to make when you were telling him to say "aah"- he isnt a baby! But he was too tired and basked in your loving embrance.

after he finished the bowl you set it aside not bothering to get up and out it in the sink, sakura looks so at peace laying against you that you considered it a crime to disturb him. you wanted this moment to last longer. After a while of admiring him you began to run your fingers gently in his hair, pulling back the strands that were stuck to his sweaty forhead. You guessed it was okay since sakura didnt say anything, so you continued.

You also massaged his skalp which resulted him unconsciously leaning into you, and made small talk to which he replied with short answers since his throat wasnt at the best condition, and honestly you didnt want to push him over his limits.

You enjoyed playing with his hair, but you noticed his shoulder were way too tense - so why not give him a sweet massage? He was bewildered when you told him so casually to strip waist up, he thought you finally lost your marbles... but when you moved your fingers on his shoulder all his questions died as he felt an otherwordly bliss. He did not believe your hands could make him feel this good.

He let you have your way with him and not daring to disturb...whatever you were doing to his back. He didnt even catch on the drool that was leaving his lips. Thanks to you he forgot he was even sick in the first place.

You ofcourse have other matters to tend to and you cant always be next to sakura till he recovers (as much as you want to sadly), so you instead encouraged him to keep his notifications unmuted so he can know when you send check-up messages and reminding him to take his medicine and rest. (With those stupid (his words not mine) chiikawa stickers.)

But when you are able to come over you bring warm soft blankets and some tea herbs, and other things sakura's "classmates" (totally not friends) bought together as a get-well gift.

You understand that you taking care of him can get a bit overwhelming since its his first time someone takes care of him and shows this much affection when hes sick, before you came to his life he just toughs it out and lays in his bed all day, so you give him some space to himself. But when he does welcome your nursing again you decide it will be a good idea to bake him some easy-to-swallow pastry like sponge cakes as a way of celebrating overcoming his fear! (dont forget to mention kotoha's big help with the baking!)

Teasing sakura while hes sick is an easy task, all you have to do is tell him you love him in the middle of changing the towel, then sit back and relax watching him overheat (you believe hes gonna melt any second now) and pulling his blanket over his head. cute.

You sometime feel bad with sakura sleeping all alone in that (haunted) apartement, you spoke to him about it and suggested sleepovers! He immediately declined, he couldnt bare the thought of you both sleeping on the same futon. But he had no choice when he opened his door to you smiling at him at 2am.

"What are you doing out here?? Its 2am." "I thought of how lonely and cold you'd be sleeping all alone.. and i couldnt bare the thought of it! So i ran all the way here :)" "Youre insufferable" But he wouldnt close the door in your face. never.

At first he turned his back to you, stiff. He was screaming internally, no way youre actually sleeping with him. You taking care of him was already short circuiting him, but this was on another level.

But you, you just were happy to share the same blanket and warmth as him. But what pleasantly suprised you is when you woke up at the middle of night to him nuzzled deep into your chest with a hand lightly gripping the hem of your shirt. The sight exposed his vulnerability to you, and you knew sakura— you knew his barriers werent the easiest to break, so when he displayed it you felt yourself swell with pride.

When he fully recovers he doesnt forget the kindness you've shown him and feels like that experience made him (both) closer to you emotionaly. You dont notice that he had been more open to pda (as open as he can get i guess) and getting your favourite snack/drink whenever hes out ever since his sickness. And when its your turn to be sick he tries his best to mimick your acts by frantically texting his "classmates" (DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT) what was the name of that cold medicine, and begrudgingly asking Kotoha to make some sort of healthy soup for you to get better (he didnt escape her teasing). But you watching him putting so much effort to take care of you inevitably made you greatful for having such a great, cute and awkward boyfriend.

© 2025 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works.

[munv]

𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗕𝗬𝗨𝗟 𝗫 !LYNETTE READER

its been a long time since Ive last written for twst..lets hope I start to get my groove back soon

heh..back to my wild crossovers era! Didnt think the day would come but here we are. BACK ON SCHEDULE BABY LETS GOOO

RIDDLE

when you first were assigned to his dorm, he couldnt help but notice you were the most rather..reserved, amongst all the first years. Not much to say, and not much to add when spoken to. You were curt, and straight to the point. Which made it a little hard to understand your character.

It had gotten to the point that prior overblot, he just assumed you were way too dismissive. You followed the rules, but at the same time it almost seemed like you never gave a rats ass.

He did however, notice a shift after his overblot. You became closer, often offering your companionship and such to help him get things done. Using your anemo vision which he won't comment on (he realized he wont get responses about it whenever he asks) to help him out every once in a while.

He has come to realize over time that you are quite the caring individual, especially when the two of you had to speed down the hallway just to barely avoid him. (you took the fall for riddle and ended up getting squeezed, he will remember your sacrifice)

Despite your cool persona, he can see in the little gestures is where you show vulnerability and care. Grounding him with subtle movements, or even his name when he loses his peace.

Riddle really appreciates you, even during his darkest hours

TREY

Trey was able to pick up on your true nature almost immediately after watching you for a while (not in the creepy way, the glances and small interactions are what count)

It may seem hard for others considering you dont show many other expressions other than curiosity openly, but Trey watches the way your ears twitch here and there at a certain remark, or even the way your fur stands on edge too. He finds it endearing to say the least. Of course he wouldnt say that out loud unless he wants to be minced meat.

Your glares are serious, he realizes

You often act as his little helper, similar to Riddle but a little more open with him. You have so much on your mind, yet so little to say, he also realizes. He really likes your sarcastic tone too. It could be a life or death situation and you would say the most craziest thing with the most deadpan face he cant help but sweatdrop and hide the smile fighting to take over his face.

Sometimes you help with baking, and your special dish? He really likes having you as his test taster. He remembers the oyster sauce prank he pulled on you. To say he hasnt seen your face twist like that in a long while is an understatement.

He realizes that you are often withdrawn from most conversations and kept to yourself at events. Trey liked to make sure everyone has fun and isnt even overlooked, so dont be surprised when he finds himself at your side with a teasing smile and slight encouragement to interact with your peers.

CATER

Cater is in some way, similar to you. With the reserved side of his personality and secrets that he carries, not many people would pick up on it. Outside of that, hes the flashy magicam guy that has "social butterfly" as his middle name. Compared to him, your just a quiet, cool and a cucumber type of person who would much rather keep to yourself.

When he finds himself overwhelmed, he finds himself in your dorm room and lays on your couch like a victorian woman who just found out the duke she was supposed to marry indeed, has a mistress like the rumors stated. Hand covering his forehead and a distraught expression as you sit across from his with a clipboard and pen in hand.

"[name]! its too hard being famous sometimes yknow..?!"

"Your alter ego, please"

"..You hate me" he sighs "but anyways, you know what the dorm head asked me to do earlier? Sevens, as much as I hate to admit it, that was so annoying-"

He respects the fact that you dont overexaggerate the tiny details and get straight to the point. No theatrics to make yourself seem interesting, just honest truth.

You guys have the type of dynamic where you somehow end up rubbing his shoulders while he vents all his troubles to you. You'd be lucky enough if Riddle doesnt catch you both

ACE

Loser #1

Lets be real, ace is a real jackass. At first? he thought you were just some boring stuck up for Riddle because you didnt want to get collared like the rest of them, and if theres anything that he hates? Its stuck ups.

Due to his natural little shit act that he has tatted on his soul since birth, he's going to try his best to rile you up any second. He won't lie, he likes the sass thing you have going on. Sometimes the banter gets to petty to the point you start tripping him over your tail, and he sneaks up on you while you're doing something important.

Ace started to really warm up to you when Riddle collared him and you spoke up for him, trying your best to convince Riddle that it wasnt necessary to keep him collared for this long.

He still messes with you though. So don't think for a second because hes gone a little less hard on you that your scot-free. He feeds off the fact that you don't entertain his foolishness and thrives

It literally fuels him like his next high, and you cannot be stressed enough.

He doesn't mind you being standoff in a way however, its the fact that he knows you care in your own little ways, thats what really matters to Ace.

He's a softie, and always has your back. Just refuses to acknowledge it, especially when you point it out? Its like an outrage and he just bursts into red.

DEUCE

Dork #2

At first, no lie, Deuce was scared of you. Not in he sense that he was scared of what you were capable of, but in the sense that he was scared of your silence.

It was like it had its own presence, a calm before the storm type of thing but you woulds never know when the storm was coming. He's like "[name] are you..okay?" and then you would just blink at him and he would start sweating and becoming even more nervous by the second.

There will be moments when he gets hot-headed and allows his delinquent nature to take over, so hes grateful when your there to ground him. Your like a parental figure to him, so color him surprised when he found out you were a first year just like him.

He gets really happy whenever you praise him too, which is rare, but you've come to realize that deuce is too much of a sweetheart and you give credit when its due anyways. No harm done

Sometimes he tries to be as level headed as you and ends up fumbling over his words, you cover for him when that happens and he couldnt be more grateful.

[bloodcasket]

“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 7.4K+

DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.

AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.

They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.

It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.

A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.

It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.

Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.

The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.

It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.

It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.

“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.

The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.

Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.

Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.

‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.

“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.

“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.

Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.

Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.

Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.

You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.

To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?

Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.

“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.

Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.

Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.

Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.

One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.

“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.

Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.

She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.

You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.

Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).

You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.

Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.

You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.

‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.

“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”

An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.

“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.

“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.

The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.

You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.

“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.

“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.

“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.

“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.

“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.

“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.

“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.

Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.

“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.

‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’

Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.

The ride to her apartment.

Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.

You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.

The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.

After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.

She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.

With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.

“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.

“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.

She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.

“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.

She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.

“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.

You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.

Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.

What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.

“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.

“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.

“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.

“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.

“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.

“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”

The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.

Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.

“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.

Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.

“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”

You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.

“No, I”-

Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.

“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.

She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.

Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.

“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.

You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.

“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”

The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.

The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.

Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.

“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”

But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”

And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.

With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.

Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.

Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.

Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.

She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.

“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.

You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.

“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.

“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.

She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.

“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.

A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.

Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”

“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.

“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.

But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.

“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.

“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.

You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.

“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.

Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.

“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.

Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.

“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”

She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.

“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.

The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.

A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.

“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”

As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.

Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.

“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”

Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.

Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.

The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.

“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.

[waayoutofline]

4 times you surprised Abby + Bonus

Pairing: Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Prompts: Fluff with a sprinkle of hurt/comfort, past toxic relationships, Cook! Reader, vulnerable Abby.

Summary: Four times you surprise Abby in your relationship.

WC: 2,8K

Warnings: None.

Abby hasn’t had a long dating history, which isn’t surprising in a world as broken as theirs. Survival didn’t leave much room for things like love. She’s had her flings, moments of stolen intimacy, but they never lasted. People came and went, and she’d learned to accept it. Relationships, if they even could be called that, weren’t always kind or healthy—but they were what they were. What she was used to.

So when you and Abby finally started dating—after months of stolen glances, shy smiles, and a tension that buzzed between you like an incoming storm—she couldn’t help but be surprised. What was it about you that made her hope for something more?

1. Talking About Her to Your Friends

Abby didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. She was on her way to the gym when she remembered she’d left her bag in your room. She knew you were with your friends, so she decided to sneak in quietly.

But as she approached the door, she heard her name.

“So, how’s life with your lover girl?” one of your friends teased, and Abby froze.

Her pulse quickened, a mixture of curiosity and anxiety rooting her in place. She shouldn’t listen, but she couldn’t stop herself. She braced for your answer, her heart sinking as she prepared to hear the usual: She’s strong. She’s built. She’s hot. A bit stubborn. Overwhelming at times.

And sure, she was those things. Her body was a testament to her survival, her strength, and her discipline . She worked for it and was proud of it. But deep down, she longed to be seen as more than that. And her character was strong and she has been told about how troublesome it could be alongside her dry humor and sarcasm.

“Well…” Your voice was hesitant, shy. She could almost picture the way your cheeks would flush. “Gosh, she’s amazing. She’s so intelligent and kind—she talks about literature in a way that astonishes me every time.”

Abby’s breath caught in her throat.

“She’s gentle, in this really soft way. You should see her with dogs. It makes me want to get her one.”

Her chest tightened, warmth blooming in a place she hadn’t let anyone touch in years.

“Don’t forget attractive,” one of your friends chimed in, grinning.

You laughed, your voice flustered. “Well, of course. She’s gorgeous.”

“Look at you, all smitten,” someone teased, and your laugh grew quieter, softer, as if you didn’t mind being called out.

Abby’s heart was pounding now, but it wasn’t from nerves. She felt her legs move before she realized it, retreating back down the hall with her bag in hand, her cheeks hot, her lips curling into a smile she couldn’t fight.

Manny didn’t let her hear the end of it when he caught her grinning like a lovestruck fool all day.

2. Meeting the Family

Holiday time was around the corner. Usually, it didnt really mean much for everyone, but for the sake of trying to live in this forsaken world, some did their best to try and regain some normalcy.

Even Isaac, workaholic and not really an empathetic, allowed some of the recruits and workers to go out of their shifts earlier to spend some time with their remaining families.

It could be great. If you actually had one.

Abby usually just stayed at the gym, pushing herself. The burn of her muscles being preferable at the though of how alone she really was.

But she really wasnt anymore. No, you were with her now.

One night, out of nowhere, you asked her to have dinner with you and your mom. Abby blinked, caught off guard.

“What?” she asked, towel in hand as she dried her hair.

“My mom and I usually do something this time of year. I think she’s tired of me rambling about you and wants to officially meet you,” you said, your tone light and teasing, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal. No one had ever invited her to meet their family before. No one had ever seen her as someone worth bringing home. Too conscious of her own lack of family.

“No pressure,” you added quickly, though your eyes softened in that way that made her heart ache. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. But I think she’d really like you.”

“I… I’d like that too,” Abby said at last, her voice almost too quiet to hear. “What should I bring?”

You smiled, stepping closer and gently tugging the towel from her hands to help dry her hair. “Just you, beautiful.”

Abby let out a shaky laugh at your cheeky grin, rolling her eyes to hide the way her cheeks blushed. “Flatterer.”

Dinner was warm in a way Abby hadn’t experienced in years. Your mom fussed over her like she’d known Abby forever, asking about her favorite foods and piling extra servings onto her plate.

It was strange and wonderful—this sense of care. Abby couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel this… domestic. Cared for. Hers died at a young age after all, she didn’t remember any kind of motherly care.

And when your mom pulled out the box of polaroids, Abby couldn’t stop laughing. Even as you protested in the background, trying to snatch the photos away, she soaked in every story your mom told—every glimpse of you as a child, every memory that shaped the person she was falling for more deeply than she thought possible.

3) The little things

Abby has always been independent. She prided herself on it—her ability to handle things, resolve problems, and shoulder her burdens without leaning on anyone. It wasn’t always easy, and yes, sometimes it felt lonely. But that loneliness was a price she was willing to pay. Dependence, to her, was a weakness, and she had no room for that.

But then you came along. And somehow, without even trying, you chipped away at her walls.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t about grand gestures, no flashy declarations. It was the little things—the quiet moments and unnoticed details—that left her feeling undone.

Like the time you took her gym towels, washed them, and neatly packed them back into her bag. She’d blinked in surprise, holding them in her hands, wondering how you’d known she’d forgotten. You hadn’t even mentioned it, just smiled when she realized.

Or the way, after a grueling patrol, she’d find a sticky note on her makeshift fridge. Your familiar handwriting scrawled something simple—a heart, her name, a quiet reminder to eat. Beside it, there was always a container of her favorite dish. She’d sit there and eat it, alone but feeling more cared for than she ever had before.

Then there were her hair ties. She’d spent half a morning cursing under her breath, looking for the ones that always seemed to vanish. When you finally spoke up, you’d said, “I put them in the little box on your nightstand so you don’t keep loosing them.”

And at times, when she didn’t really have it in her to face the morning, you gently encouraged her to push forward. You’d quietly ask if you could braid her hair. Abby usually was adamant to let anyone touch it, but there was something about the way your delicate hands moved through her hair that left her in a trance.

Your fingers worked carefully, threading through her scalp with a tenderness that eased the weight she carried. She found herself humming softly as you worked, the tension in her shoulders melting away with each gentle stroke.

It was so small, so simple, but she’d stared at you for a moment, the words catching in her throat.

It amazed her how you always seemed to notice the things she needed before she did. You didn’t make a show of it, didn’t ask for thanks or praise. Taking care of her came as naturally to you as breathing.

Afterward, life seems all that brighter. Easier to breath, knowing that she could count on you.

4) Getting her vulnerability

The anniversary of her dad’s death was closing in like a shadow. Abby felt it in the air, in her nightmares, in the way her body refused to let her rest.

Night after night, she woke up shaking, clutching at her chest, and every time, you were there—soft whispers, steady hands, holding her like she wasn’t coming apart at the seams.

But she hated herself for it. Hated waking you, hated seeing the concern in your eyes, hated the thought of you realizing just how much of a mess she really was. People had left for less.

And maybe you would, too.

Many people, both lovers and friends, had been uncomfortable with the ghosts of her past—her dad, her losses, the weight she carried. They either tiptoed around it or distanced themselves when it became too much. She didn’t exactly blame them.

But you faced it with her. You didn’t try to fix her or tell her to “move on.” You just stayed, listened, and made her feel like she wasn’t broken.

You stood by her, with no pressure, no expectation, no need to “make her better.”

“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” you told her one night, after she tried so hard to stop her body from shaking after one particularly harsh dream.

It was something no one had ever said to her before, and it stuck with her. It gave her the strength to turn around and look at you while tears started down her cheeks, the darkness not managing to conceal them entirely. But it was alright.

You were there.

“Was it about your dad?” you whispered, not pushing but encouraging. Silence filled the space the question left.

“No.” She finally answered, her voice unsteady in a way that she loathed. “We…we were on a patrol, and when I came back everything was destroyed. Burned to the ground. And you were….” Her words stuck, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly. “You were gone. You were…g-god, you were—“

Almost immediately, you hugged her, cradling her head to your chest. You were soft and warm, the steady beating of your heart thumping under her ear. It was almost scary, how comfortable it was.

“I’m right here,” you murmured softly, your hand gently running through her hair. “Hear my heart. Focus on my breaths. We’re together, Abby. We’re okay.”

The words settled over her like a balm, though the ache in her chest didn’t fully ease. The images from her nightmare still lingered—haunting, visceral, unshakable. But your presence, your warmth, gave her something solid to cling to. A light in the darkness.

“I hate it,” she finally whispered, voice raw. “I hate that I can’t protect everyone. That everyone seems to just…go eventually. And that I can’t do anything about it.”

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, your eyes soft as you wiped away her tears. Your touch was gentle, your expression firm but kind.

“Abby, you don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

She shook her head, her brow furrowing in frustration. “But what if I lose you? What if I can’t stop it?”

“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, your hands cupping her face. “And even if the worst happens, it’s not because you failed. It’s because the world is cruel sometimes. But no matter what, I need you to know that you’re not alone in this.”

Her lips quivered, another tear slipping down her cheek, but she didn’t look away. For once, she let herself be seen—completely, raw and exposed.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Abs.” You patiently reminded. “It’s okay to let someone else carry the weight sometimes.”

You continued, your voice steady. “You have me.”

Abby let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to truly let go. She melted into your embrace, burying her face in your neck as the last of her resistance crumbled.

You stayed like that, holding her through the quiet sobs, through the silence that followed. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Thank you,” she said. “For staying.”

You pressed a kiss to her temple, your hand still running soothingly through her hair. “Always,” you replied. “I’ll always stay, Abby.”

BONUS

+) Not minding her overprotective nature

Everyone knows Abby is a deeply loyal person. She wants her loved ones to be safe more than anything, and she is willing to do anything for them. That usually manifested as her being slightly overprotective at times.

With you, it happened more often than not. She would step in at the slightest sign of you having any issue. Usually, she did it through small gestures that were partly unconscious to her. Like knowing your schedule by heart and accompanying you to your room late at night with a secure hand on your lower back. Happily listening to your rambling while still keeping an eye out.

Watching over you in every room came naturally to her.

She was particularly tense when you, as the executive chef, asked for permission to assist in a supply run and gather some materials. Abby always insisted that you only go when she was available. She didn’t trust anyone else to keep you safe like she did.

The most dramatic displays of her protectiveness came when you were confronted by recruits making greedy demands.

“Back off,” she practically growled, appearing behind you like a shadow. The person usually stammered, probably not conscious of who your girlfriend was until her imposing frame stood threateningly in front of them.

Afterward, she turned to you, all the aggression melting away as she gave you soft eyes. “You good?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I’m good.”

And you meant it—being with Abby made you feel safe in a way you never had before.

You weren’t exactly “on the frontlines” material. You arrived at the WLF when you were pretty young, and after going through everything, even the sight of a gun left you uneasy. So when Isaac saw your cooking abilities, he allowed you to stay at the base under the title of side-line cook. You eventually rose through the ranks, and that was that.

You preferred dealing with narcissistic soldiers over facing those vicious creatures. In a way, you grew accustomed to being pushed around, even though you knew how to defend yourself. But that all changed when you met Abby.

Standing at 5’9 and with a build that seemed crafted by the gods themselves, it was safe to say people left you alone after associating with her. So, even if you knew how to stand your ground, you enjoyed being protected by her.

You didn’t mind when she walked ahead of you during runs, her broad shoulders shielding you from any threat that could come your way. When she insisted on carrying the heavier bag or checking your gun a couple of times before leaving—just in case.

Not even when she glared at anyone who looked at you for more than five seconds in a way she deemed unacceptable.

You didn’t mind any of it because you knew it came from a strong sense of caring. That’s who she was. She cared deeply.

So, whenever she hovered near as you collected some herbs just a little outside the perimeter of the stadium (an area kept clear of infected), her eyes following your every move, you didn’t roll your eyes or brush her off. Instead, you smiled softly, glancing up at her as she leaned against a tree, arms crossed.

“You don’t have to watch me like a hawk, you know,” you teased lightly. “This is a pretty safe zone.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna keep an eye out.”

Setting the basket down, you stood and moved next to her, gently nudging her to sit. She understood your intentions—she always did—and with her back against the trunk of the tree, she made space for you to settle between her legs, resting against her.

“I know,” you said, leaning into her warmth. “And I appreciate it.”

Abby’s expression softened, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “You don’t think I’m… too much?”

“Not at all,” you said, glancing back at her and managing to place a soft kiss on the side of her jaw. “You make me feel safe. That’s never too much.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at you with that quiet, steady gaze that always made you feel like you were the center of her world.

And when she reached out to embrace you, resting her head in the crook of your neck, her touch so gentle, you knew you wouldn’t trade her protectiveness for anything.

[veryberryjelly]

gone to shit

pairing : jake peralta x fem!reader

prompt : "can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

your day had been going too well for it to continue.

you had gotten to your local coffee shop before it got too busy, gotten up to the bullpen without getting catcalled by some jackass outside and you and your boyfriend were the only ones in the office which was nice.

it was quiet and the first 30 minutes your day was spent sat opposite jake just talking until your friends and colleagues filtered in through the elevator.

and then everything came crashing down.

multiple people in the holding cell caused the bullpen to be filled with noise which was unsettling.

the coffee you had gotten this morning spilled over your desk and your lap.

your phone had died half way through a conversation with your sister and you knew she wouldn't appreciate it seeming like you hung up on her.

and you had misfiled some evidence and had to talk to holt to fix it.

you hoped he would be in a good mood so this wouldn't end up with you getting reamed out.

unfortunately that was not the case.

while he didnt yell you could sense the annoyance & slight disappointment in his tone as he told you do leave so he could deal with it.

and you did leave.

but instead of heading back to your desk you went to the evidence lock up, heading towards the back corner and sinking down onto the floor, the cool surface bringing you out of your head very slightly.

but it wasnt enough to stop the hot burning tears from falling from your eyes.

this wasnt something you should be getting so upset about, there were people in the world that had it a lot worse than you and here you were crying over the tiniest things.

just because they had happened in quick succession it felt so overwhelming.

you were way too in your own head to notice your name being called quietly into the room.

it was only when you saw a set of shoes infront of you that your attention was pulled from the spiralling thoughts in your head.

your hands instantly lifted to wipe at your cheeks to try and pass it off like you weren't crying.

" woah woah, hey. what's wrong, babe? "

the sound of jake's voice did not relax you as much as usual.

you shook your head, trying to shake off this awful tightness in your chest but that did nothing to calm jake's worry.

he crouched down beside you momentarily before sitting down next to you, knowing that his gaze on you could overwhelm you even further.

his arm dropped to around your shoulders and your head instantly dropped down onto the soft fabric of his hoodie.

" you wanna tell me why you're hiding in the evidence lock up ?" he asked, his fingertips running over the fabric of your shirt.

" everything was just going so well this morning and then i spilled my coffee, the holding cell is so full of jackasses, my phone died and then i misfiled some evidence... it all just went to shit "

his small motions on your shoulder were calming you slightly but not by much, your shoulders were still shaking and you couldnt bring yourself to take a full breath.

jake didn't reply for a few moments but his fingertips kept tracing shapes over your shoulder.

" ok, well these are all easy fixes. rosa has a charger in her desk she'll let you use, the holding cell is thinning out really quickly and you left a spare pair of jeans at my apartment a couple days ago and i brought them to give back to you, so you can change into those. "

how he managed to solve all of your problems so quickly you'll never know, but you were just so grateful.

you turned your body further into his, smiling softly when he wrapped his arm tighter around you and pressed a short kiss onto the top of your head.

" thank you "

" you're welcome, babe " he said quietly.

both of you remained sat on the floor of the evidence lock up for a couple more minutes before jake moved to stand and lead both of you back to the bullpen.

before he could take you outside you pulled him back by his hand, a soft and playful pout resting on your lips.

"can i have one more hug?" you asked, tilting your head back to look up at him.

a grin spread across his face.

"aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

you quickly closed the two feet between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head buried against his chest.

another 5 minutes were spent surrounded by weapons in boxes just hugging your boyfriend.

but when you returned to the bullpen, everything seemed a little bit better

[awbublie]

wait my mc lore just dropped 🙀🙀

mc lore is here >.< fret not!!

they are a glorified self-insert i am shameless and will insert myself into my favorite media!!!

though she isn't a complete rip-off of me, maybe like 60% me

though i do love napco figurines

(edit: im so stupid and thought mx stood for mexican😭😭😓)

relationship charts!!!

caught mc on a good day!:

essentially means mc got a higher score than 60 on a test and just got a sweet treat.

feeling like contributing to society, she helps this rando return a phone.

seven:

both work with computers, he's just levels ahead of them.

inferiority complex kicks in til he starts helping her with assignments and omg im in love with this man.

likes his jokes and his robots are sooooo cool, "you think you can make one look like this? :3" insert image

calls him so he can practice his english and she can practice her korean.

the flirty banter really kicks up and they get their hopes up

gets butthurt day 8 when he turns them down.

jaehee:

desperate for female friends mc is overly-sweet and clingy.

jaehee is overwhelmed and explains in order for them to be proper friends time is needed.

they are now bonding over coffee beans and how mc brought some from her last Mexico trip

i WANT THEM TO LIVE TOGETHER SO BAD

yoosung:

misses her siblings so he's the closest to a little brother.

finds out guys don't typically like that when you tell them that, especially if they are older.

they make up and bond over their no-life life

trains in LOLOL for the next couple days bc DANG IT SHE WILL PLAY IN HIS LOBBYS!!!!

share shoujo recs

zen:

when he flirts at first, her heart flutters.

till jaehee gives her the warning, and atp jaehees word is bible

finds him silly but like in a older man kind of way

finds his costumes interesting and asks about the type of fabrics they use

during 707 route, she leans into the whole big sister zen and LOVES IT

jumin:

not too big with rich people and was quick to form an opinion

finds out ab Elizabeth and everything that they had thought gets thrown out the window WHAT A NICE MAN!

til shes asking about the area and he says something along the lines of "why move to a country you know nothing about? You are simply asking to fail. "

YEAH HES RIGHT BUT HE DIDNT HAVE TO SAY THATTT 😭😭😭

is bitter for the next 2 days before she gets over it

caught mc on a bad day!:

felt with the daddy issues (we cannot control our fathers we have nothing to do with our father's errors they do not define what we do or who we become we can disagree with them and still love them)

the professor was moving too quickly during class, her computer was working, she fell behind and her brain is fried. it feels like it's been happening more and more....honestly it feels easier just to rot in bed sleeping.

getting a random message just worsens her mood. "i cant even help myself and im supposed to help you?" rolling over to try to make sense of the class notes.

saeran:

got kidnapped and had their laptop open

"you follow me on github?"

mc BEGS for him to teach them everything he knows

ends up becoming an intern and moving their classes online

but wait...this guy is lwk kinda cute....

and he's taking the time to teach me??? >.<

blind to their situation mc follows instructions and fufills small tasks

saeran gives her badge "ID:10T"

cleaning his code to filling up the office waterbottle, all in payment for bootcamp-saeran™

V:

reminds her of a teacher she had once, ick

finds him to be kind of a doormat, but so is she

doesn't enjoy seeing how others might view her

(707 route bc i forgot to mention him there) can't help but feel sorry for him, she may not trust him but i mean cmon they can't help but feel bad dude lost his fiance and now seems like he can't keep his life together

rika:

again, desperate for female friends, but this one IS SO DIFFERENT

this is like when you make eye contact with someone of a similar group and you kinda expect automatic friendship but they are cold to you

mc is either ignorant of mint eyes operations or is slowly being indoctrinated, they don't meet rika very often.

they form a kind of bitterness towards her, rooted in her insecurities

"how can someone be so loved?" "how can someone just 'create' a world of their own" "whats so special about her, i'd be able to do something like that too"

by only hearing of her through saeran they feel so insignificant to her influence, it weakens them

[allisluv]

Hii I didn't see it in your guidelines but it might be triggering so I'm so sorry if I did can you Finnick taking care of reader after a suicide attempt?? I'm so so so sorry if I triggered you I really hope I didn't I'm so sorry again.

-🎸

better days are coming.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!victor!reader

summary: after a rough patch, you turn to the unthinkable, but your boyfriend is there to help you through it.

trigger warnings: depression, crying, feelings associated with a failed suicide attempt, mentions of a failed suicide attempt, pre-established relationship, mentions of the hunger games/death, ptsd, nightmares.

authors note: this fic deals with heavy topics and may be triggering to some people so please make sure you are in the right headspace to read this. my inbox is open if you are struggling. there are people that care about you.

word count: 802.

When Finnick asks why you did it, you don't really have an answer for him. Not a solid one, anyway. The truth is, you don't know why you did what you did. Sure, you'd been feeling down since winning The Hunger Games, but according to the other victors in your tiny village on the shore of District Four, it was normal to feel that way. In fact, it was expected.

Mags had once said to you that The Hunger Games changed everyone in some way or another. She had said that nobody came out unscathed. You couldn't have possibly understood what she meant; at the time, you were only fresh out of the arena and the prospect of what was to come was the last thing on your mind.

The first few weeks back home had been easy. You simply woke up, fell back into your usual routine with Finnick, and tried to go back to being normal, blissfully unaware that there would never be a day where you would feel anywhere close to normal again.

Your victory tour was when it began. You had been forced to face the families of the fallen tributes, some of whom had died at your hands. Then the nightmares started, and the insomnia, and the overwhelming fear that you would never feel better again. It started slowly. It crept up on you, like a shadow that grows as the sun comes out from behind the clouds.

So, when Finnick asks why you did it, it's a lie to say you don't know. It would be more fitting to say you just don't know where to start. It's hard to explain how you feel both everything and nothing all at once. It's something that you don't understand yourself, so how on earth is anyone else meant to know what you mean?

You didnt expect to wake up, so when your eyes flutter open and you see Finnick with his head in his hands by your beside, dread floods your veins. You know that Finnick has every right to be angry, but the mere thought makes you want to be sick.

Finnick's sea-green eyes snap up when you toss in the bed. His hand flies out to grip your own, his grasp firm and tight around your fingers, as if he's afraid that you'll slip away if he lets go. "Hi," he whispers, voice hoarse from not speaking for so long.

"Hi," you whisper, rolling onto your side to get a better look at him. There's dark circles under his puffy eyes and his pretty pink lips are tipped down in a frown. A lump starts to form in your throat and it borders on painful as you try to swallow it down. You shift uncomfortably.

Finnick's brows knit together. "Are you in pain? Should I call a doctor?" His voice is soft and gentle, more gentle than you deserve, and that's the final thing to push you over the edge. Tears spill out over your waterline. "Oh, honey," he whispers, climbing onto the double bed and nestling in beside you. He pulls you into his warm arms and you go willingly, melting into his touch.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, burying your face in his white shirt so you don't have to look at him.

Unfortunately for you, Finnick knows exactly what you're trying to do. He coaxes you to pull away slightly and when you do, he tips your chin up with his pointer finger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eye. "You don't have to apologise, baby."

"You're not mad?"

Finnick sighs. "I'm not gonna sit here and say that I'm thrilled you tried to kill yourself. I'm mad at the situation but I'm not mad at you, baby. I just-" he blows air out through his lips. " Why didn't you talk to me?"

This time when you try shrink away from his gaze, he lets you. Your response comes muffled into the fabric of his t-shirt. "I don't know. I-- I wasn't thinking. I mean, I was, I knew what I was doing, but it was like I was moving on autopilot. It didn't really sink in until after I'd done it. I know I'm not making much sense. I just-- I wanted it to stop."

Finnick kisses the top of your head. "You wanted what to stop, honey?"

"I just wanted everything to stop. I felt so lonely and I..."

Finnick sucks in a breath and unsteadily blows it back out. "Okay." He kisses the top of your head once more and breathes in the smell of your vanilla shampoo. "Okay," he repeats, smoothing his fingers through your hair. "I just... I wish you'd told me, 'cause you're not alone. No matter how alone you feel, I promise you're not alone."

[cxffecoupx]

do you wanna build a snowman?

kwon soonyoung + one running ahead to jump onto the snow as the other fondly watches. wc: 826 (turned out pretty long for something i'm not really proud of🤧) warnings: a very hyperenergetic soonyoung author's notes: i wrote this while i should have prepped a little more for my exams,,, i've never actually had the chance to play in snow (but i would love to!!) so most of this is just me imagining it, and it probably isnt how it actually happens... pls bear with me(T_T) hope you enjoy reading it! winter wonderland masterlist

when soonyoung walks up to you with a cheeky grin, there's nothing nice about it.

it usually means a sign of incoming mischief or an idea that will definitely lead to some trouble.

so your concern was understandable when you saw him smiling at you from across the couch while you were reading a book. he poked you in your stomach a few times to grab your attention, but when that didnt work, he spoke out your name in a whine, a sing-song that, if you hadn't known better, would have made you think 'oh so cute'.

"soonie, what is it?" you ask him, eyes still reading the book.

"it's snowing outside... you know what that means?"

he pokes you again and you look up at him and responds when you continue staring at him in a confused look.

"it's time to build snowmen!!" he jumps up and grabs your hand to get you up.

"soonyoung, it's too cold to go outside!"

"you can have my hoodie."

"...let's go."

the walk to the park is nothing short of an adventure. the 10 minute walk ends up taking an extra 30 minutes, with the way soonyoung happily gleams at all the snow collected on the streets. he links arms with you before breaking into a dance-like walk by kicking his feet high, sending snow flying all over. you are almost overwhelmed by the energy he possesses in this sluggish, cozy weather, but his happiness is so contagious that you don't even realize until your cheeks started hurting, that you were laughing along with him all the while he ran to the park, pulling you along.

and if you thought the soonyoung until now was too energetic, you understand what a mistake it was when you see him in the park.

he becomes a child.

the first thing he does is crouch down to gather some snow in his hands. he jumps as he throws it into the air, laughing amusedly watching it shower down around the two of you. he lets out an excited shout as he runs and jumps into a heap of snow collected somewhere around; the snow mountain engulfs him and only his head remains visible, a blob of happy smile and merrily closed eyes.

the movies make it look cringey - all the lovey-dovey actions that couples in films do when it snows. you would roll your eyes whenever you came across such clips. 'load of bs' you would say - which initially caused soonyoung to gasp (he still does, but you're used to it now) - but you would watch because he likes such cheesy romcoms and you enjoyed seeing him happy.

you're the black cat that's slowly warming up to the love-sick golden retriever that's soonyoung.

so you don't realise it. how you have a dopey smile on your face watching soonyoung enjoy the winter he'd been waiting for so long.

he calls you to come join him, but snow hasn't really been something you liked, and you'd rather stay where you are and absorb the little warmth that his hoodie plus your jacket is providing you, than voluntarily join in on the fun and knowingly let yourself freeze.

so you just stand there, shaking your head for a 'no' while the smile widens on your lips.

"you're no fun," he says and pouts, and you throw your head back and laugh at his dramatics.

what you didn't notice was how he stood up and charged towards you, hands extended to hold you to him as he crashes into your still body. it takes you by surprise, and your high-pitched yelp gets silenced midway as he hugs you to him and turns your bodies around so that he's the one to fall on the snow.

"this was the only way i could get you to play with me," he says and flashes a cheeky smile to you. he extends your arms along with his arms and legs, moving them to make a snow angel.

you struggle to lift your head and look at him. "you're so annoying," you say, but then quickly let your head fall on his chest once again.

"but you still love me though."

you stay like that for a long time, and then get up to build a snowman with him. his eyes gleam at your words, and he gets to work immediately. you don't realise when hours pass by and the sun sets, but two sloppy snowmen and a couple snow fights later, you decide to head home.

"you called me annoying earlier," he breaks the silence on the walk back home, "but you should see seungkwan. he's absolutely intolerable with all his christmas songs..."

his hand laces with yours and swings back and forth as he talks about it. his face is glowing; and whether it is from the golden hour sunlight, or pure joy doesn't matter to you, as long as that smile stays with you forever.

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

[reomikagekin]

I think we need a happy ending after what has happened in the alien stage series.

So, I was thinking an au were all the alien stage characters are save and have settled down.

And their s/o tells them she pregnant. So now they a starting a family I wonder how they been like during the pregnancy and how they be like as a parent

i didnt add isaac, dewey, hyunwoo or jacob in this, but if you want that, js let me know!!

A Future We Fought For

💗 Sua

When you tell her, she just stares at you for a long, stunned moment.

“You… you’re pregnant?”

You nod gently. “Yeah.”

Her lips tremble. “With my kid?”

You reach out, taking her hand. “With our kid.”

She breaks.

Tears fall freely — not from fear, not even quite from joy, but from relief. Like after all the pain and death and screaming and loss, this is the one thing she never dared to dream about. Something normal. Something alive.

“…I never thought I’d live long enough to become someone’s mother,” she whispers into your shoulder.

Sua during pregnancy is tender and determined. She reads every article, argues with nurses if they don’t treat you gently enough, and rubs your back while swearing that this baby is going to grow up free — not hunted, not broken, not used.

When the baby’s born, she clutches them tightly to her chest.

“I won’t be perfect,” she says, crying. “But I’ll be here. I’ll protect you. That’s a promise.”

🧡 Ivan

He stares at the pregnancy test.

Then at you.

Then back at the test.

Then at you again.

And finally, in the most stupidly Ivan way possible: “…Wait, you’re serious? You’re actually pregnant? You’re—like—for real?!”

You nod, a little nervous, unsure if that shocked face is joy or panic. Then—

He tackles you in a hug, spins you around the living room like he’s in a cheesy romcom, laughing like a madman. “I’m gonna be a dad! Oh my god—I’m gonna be a dad!!”

Ivan becomes the most annoyingly excited father-to-be. He reads baby books (and loses them), talks to your belly every night (“Yo, kid, make sure you come out cooler than me”), and insists the baby must inherit your eyes.

When the baby’s born, Ivan cries. Full, messy, overwhelming sobs as he holds them.

“You’re our beginning,” he whispers to your child. “Not an end.”

🩷 Mizi

You weren’t sure how she’d react.

After everything — after losing Sua, after fighting so hard just to survive — you thought the idea of a child might be too much.

But the moment you told her, Mizi just… froze.

“Really?” she whispered. “Are you… Are you happy about it?”

“I am,” you say softly. “But only if you are, too.”

Tears welled up. Not sad ones — just big ones. Scared ones. Healing ones. She throws herself into your arms and clutches your shirt tightly.

“I never thought I’d live long enough for something this… this good to happen to me.”

Pregnancy is full of Mizi carefully, cautiously learning to hope again. She makes little handmade toys, paints the nursery herself, and reads out loud every night (mostly poetry and soft lullabies).

When the baby arrives, she doesn’t stop crying.

“You’re the proof I didn’t die bitter,” she says. “You’re what love gave me in return.”

💜 Luka

He goes quiet.

Not cold — just… still. Like he’s processing something too big to believe.

“I’m pregnant,” you say again. Your voice is small, but steady.

He takes a slow breath. Walks over to you. Kneels. Presses his forehead to your stomach.

“You’re sure?” he asks, voice breaking ever so slightly.

You nod. “Yes.”

His hands tremble as they wrap around your waist. “Then I have to change. I have to be better. For both of you.”

Luka is so serious about fatherhood. He attends every check-up. Tracks every appointment. Builds the crib himself (and only trusts it after testing its stability 30 times).

He talks to the baby like they’re royalty: “You will not inherit my scars. Only my strength. But I hope you take after her more than me.”

And when he holds the baby for the first time, his heart shatters in the best way.

“...Thank you,” he whispers, tears slipping down his cheeks. “For giving me a reason to keep living.”

💚 Till

When you tell Till you’re pregnant, he bursts into tears.

Not the ugly kind. Not fear. Just pure, overwhelmed joy.

“You want to raise a kid… with me?!” he says, voice cracking. “Like… actually me?!”

You hug him tightly. “Yes. I want this life with you.”

Till becomes the most gentle, nervous, and chaotic father-to-be. He researches everything but still panics when you sneeze. He buys twelve baby monitors. He names the baby “Squish” until you can decide together.

He plays music for your bump daily — little songs on an old keyboard, humming tunes he makes up just for them.

When the baby’s born, he stares like it’s a dream.

“You’re real…” he whispers. “And I get to be here for it…”

He never stops being amazed that something good, something this good, happened to him.

💛 Hyuna

“You’re joking,” she says at first. “You’re—seriously? You’re not pulling some kind of messed up prank, right?”

You hand her the test again. She blinks. Once. Twice. Then—

“OH MY GOD—WE’RE HAVING A BABY?!”

She screams. She cries. She lifts you in the air. She immediately starts planning names. She tells everyone (even the barista at the corner shop).

Hyuna is the most ride-or-die pregnant partner imaginable. She gets you weird snacks at 3 AM, builds a playlist for every trimester, and shows up to every appointment dressed like she’s protecting royalty.

When your water breaks, she nearly faints. When the baby is born, she’s the first to hold them.

“I swear on everything,” she murmurs, smiling through tears, “this kid’s gonna grow up loved. Fully. Loudly. Fiercely.”

💫 Optional Ending: Together

Years later, they all visit each other with their kids in tow. The war is over. No more stages. No more death.

Just Ivan making bad dad jokes. Till chasing a toddler through a garden. Hyuna organizing chaotic family cookouts. Luka reading quietly to his child under a tree. Mizi painting with her little one while laughing softly.

Sua rocking her child gently, humming a quiet lullaby.

You sit beside them — the love of their life — and feel a peace none of them thought they’d ever live to see.

They made it.

They’re home.

And the future is beautiful.

[xylianasblog]

Hey my love, you lucky i was like let me be nice and give you your husband for a request!

I'd like to request an ao'nung x fem!metkayina! reader. Ao'nung and reader can't seem to get along with each other, always picking on each other whenever they get the chance, throw in a little competitive with each other. But they always seem to get pull to each other like a magnetic force. I was thinking an enemies to lovers/secret pining going on between them. I feel like reader would hate him because of cocky he acts and how he bullied the sully family. But one night, they're at a party and somehow they find each other alone together and the pull is so strong that they can't step away. You can add smut in if you want, i also thought ao'nung saying something like "you still hate me" after they fuck will be funny feel free to change it however you want.

Somethings don’t change.

Pairings: AgedUp! Aonung x FemMetkayina Reader

Summary: When the lines start to blur can you really come back from that??

Warnings: MDNI, secret pining/mutual pining, enemies to lovers, p in v, choking. I think I covered it all.

A/n: I’m so rusty I’m sorry but I really hope you enjoy this!

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦MDNI꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

You wondered how you found yourself in this position, being fucked by the guy you were suppose to hate. Your mind reeled from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You tried to focus and think over what led to this, what could have possibly gotten you into the position. On your hands and knees as Aonung’s thick length punishes your dripping wet cunt, each one of his thrust has your mind going blank. Each one deeper and rougher than the last as if he’s fucking all the pent up hate he’s felt for you, into you.

The feeling of his hands ghosting over the small of your back and slowly sliding up until his hand had wrapped around your throat. The applied pressure making you clench around him as he forced your back to his chest, and his lips pressed against your pulse point. Fangs gently grazing against your sticky skin had your body shuddering.

And even though your mind kept telling you that this wasn’t right, that you hated this male with everything in you. Your body wouldn’t allow the hatred to be felt through the overwhelming amount of pleasure he was providing you.

For fucks sake just earlier in the day you were at each other’s throats, arguing about something that was clearly his fault. But what could you possibly do? It’s Aonung, he’d rather start another argument than admit he was in the wrong and apologize in the first place.

Being around Aonung was exhausting, all the fighting and bickering drove you crazy. Even the smallest thing he did set you off, however he had to always be the one with the last word. Yet days without the little arguments felt like something was missing.

For as long as you could remember you and Aonung have always been at odds. Competition at every corner even with the smallest things. Not a moment went by without something happening between you too.

Even if you were in the right, and you were always right Aonung found a way to always set you off with one of his smart ass remarks.

However things have only seemed to get worse once the Sully family arrived. You took to helping them like it was second nature, no questions, no problems just instant need to help. Aonung however made this difficult.

Everywhere you turned he was always there picking on the Sully kids, even going as far as to start fights with you over teaching them. Most time you never knew what to do, arguing back to only seemed to make it worse. Even when you didnt retaliate Aonung seemed agitated to the 3rd degree. Nuts is what you called him, an entitled brat who needed to always have everyone’s attention and when he was not getting it his fits grew. At least that’s how you saw it.

What really set you off was the day he picked on Kiri, teasing her for having five fingers. You were upset, telling him off even after catching the aftermath of his fight with the brothers. Serves his ass right, they should have done worse. Stupid boy causing trouble. Such an Aonung thing to do.

It wasn’t until much later when you heard of the incident with Loak that you really blew up on him. When you had heard the news from Neteyam, you were livid.

You searched around the island looking around for Ao’nung. You were going to give him a piece of your mind and he was going to listen whether he wanted to or not. After about 15 minutes you found him near a secluded part of the island. You watched the way he paced back and forth in the sand wearing away at the particles. Got a moment there was an ounce of hesitation on your part but you decided against it.

You stomped your way over to him until you were in front of him and with all the strength you could muster you pushed him. “What is your problem! Leaving Lo’ak out there on his own? Are you that much of an asshole that you genuinely don’t care for others?”

You started pacing front of him. “You are so fucking entitled Ao’nung. You do not care about your consequences and show they affect others! If anything happens to him I will never forgive you!”

You stormed off, the decision already set in your mind. You wanted nothing more to do with Aonung, and in this moment you were determined to keep away from him. At all cost. Any cost for that matter.

When Lo’ak was found you were relived, he had become a very good friend to you as well as his siblings. You even had a soft spot for little baby Tuk. She was just the sweetest so the thought of anyone hurting the family in anyway felt wrong even if it was someone who you had such a close yet difficult relationship with.

After Lo’aks return and everything had settled the others decided there would be a party to celebrate just amongst the young adults and while you were in no mood to party you needed a huge distraction. Aonung had done everything in his power to try and get your attention. Each time he walked in your direction you’d turn and immediately go another way.

Speaking to let alone being around him was one of the last things you were worried about. Yet you continued to actively avoid him, and well… you had managed to succeed until you decided to drink. Aonung had managed to corner you while you were alone lost in thought.

The beach was always the prettiest at night, quiet, peaceful even. Until it wasn’t. “Y/n. You can’t possibly continue to ignore me.” Aonungs voice had your ears perked up but you said nothing. “Come on talk to me, stop being so dramatic.”

Dramatic? You? The nerve of this asshole yet nothing was said. You weren’t aware of his steps getting closer until he was in front of you, his signature smirk on his lips. “You seem angry, Y/n. You should do something about it, like yelling at me, hitting me maybe? But you can’t ignore me forever.”

You simply turned your head doing just that ignoring him and his advances to get to you. Though you weren’t incredibly drunk your senses were dazed enough to the point you didn’t see his hand reaching up, his gentle hold on your neck had you momentarily baffled. His hold sent a shock straight down to your cunt and you frowned, this was calming someone you hated you weren’t suppose to feel something like this from such a simple action.

“Please stop ignoring me, I know I fucked up. I messed up so bad. I can take everyone being mad at me.. everyone but you.” He whispered as he snaked his free hand around your waist, pulling your body flush against his own. “Please Y/n.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth went slack until you found the words to speak. “You’re such an asshole! Why would you even think that was okay? You left him out there! You’ve been nothing but ru-“ your small outburst was stopped by the feel of his lips against yours. Your body melting into the gentle kiss.

He broke the kiss to trail kisses against your neck. “I know.” Was all he whispered against your skin. His kisses and touches had your mind muddled, body alight with small bits of pleasure, you were lost in the moment not even daring to push him away. You let his continue to trail the light kisses against your skin the feeling of your covering’s getting in your way. You knew it was wrong but you wanted more of this more of him.

All it took was for him to kiss you, one kiss stopped all your fight. So simple not one complaint fell from your lips as Aonung had continued to kiss and explore your body in ways you never imagined.

The feeling of pleasure clouded all sense of judgment. His thrust began to slow down, forcing you to feel the way his thickness filled your dripping cunt each time he pushed back in. His grip on your neck tightened as his free hand slide down to tease and rub at your clit.

“Look at you, looking so pretty for me right now.” He whispered against your neck, his thumb moving in slow circles against your clit now. He was dragging out the pleasure, prolonging the moment you’d come all over his cock. “M’gonna..” he groaned loudly. “Come with me baby.”

The deep guttural noise that fell from him as he released his thickness filled seed inside you triggered your own release. You threw your head back as you cried out, body shuddering, walls clamping down tightly around his cock milking him for every possible drop.

Once the high passed and you both lay panting heavily against the sand he kissed your cheek before moving to nuzzle into your neck. “Do you still hate me?” Back was the arrogant asshole who you grew up with up.

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

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[dailyadventureprompts]

Hi there! I hope your having a wonderful day!

So i had a question, or more acuratly wanted to ask for some advice. Ive more or less recently started dming, mostly in the form of one-shots for my main group. And ive stumbled across the following issue: while i love the lore building and describing and rp-ing i really struggle with combat. I tend to get overwhelmed and forget about effects and skills, and struggle with coming up with 'battle tactics' (which is what our campaign dm suggested) or make it way to easy because i worry about the players being dissappointed by 'loosing'(eventhough they've mentiones they would love harder combat and would even be okay with a tpk if it was earned)

So do you happen to have any suggestions or ideas on how to practice running and organizing combat and/or scalling or ways to not get so overwhelmed?

(Im sorry if this isnt quite what you do, i just didnt really know who else to ask)

This is ABSOLUTELY what I do friend, every part of the dungeon mastering experience is worth talking about because that's how we improve.

If you're having trouble learning your way around combat you're more than justified: it's a whole second game, and strategic skirmish tactics requires a very different skillset compared to the collabrative storytelling rules you're just now getting a handle on.

First, lets talk about what combat in d&d is even FOR: Fights in d&d are really no different than any other challenge, they're a hurdle you as a DM employ to introduce drama to a narrative and engage your players, not all that different from a locked door or an obstinate NPC that needs to be convinced. The difference is that when you call initiative, you are shining a spotlight on the moment to moment decisions your party makes when time is limited and greatly raising the stakes: Seconds matter in combat, quick thinking matters, mistakes matter.

To use a simple example, recently I ran a road encounter where the party came across a gnomish merchant who's wagon had been attacked by predatory flightless birds. The question wasn't "can the party defeat the birds", I knew they could, the question was " Can the party defeat the birds before they eat this poor gnome who will be a friend/ally to them later"

The reason you're having problem with tactics and being worried about killing your party is that you're thinking about combat as its own isolated thing rather than a dramatic beat as part of a larger story. Most fights in D&D are NOT about attacking the party directly: Instead the baddies have something they want to accomplish (Take, devour, defend, slay) and it's a question of whether the heroes can stop them before they accomplish their mission. Combat only takes 2-4 rounds generally, which is a limited time for your players to put their thumbs on the scale and try to alter the course of events. Tactics are emergent out of goals, so think about what your minions would want to happen and how they would've gone about achieving it before the party comes by to wreckingball through their carefully laid plans.

Another example: An enemy force is attacking a castle the party are guests at, looking to secure hostages in preparation for a coup attempt by a rival noble. While the villains' over all job is to capture pieces, the initial wave of badguys are primarily concerned with slowing the party down to prevent them from interfering with the other attackers around the castle, meaning they'll fight defensively, potshots from cover and barring exits.

When you refocus the badguys' goals away from killing the players and towards things that push the plot in a particular direction (especially one the party would generally like to stop) you’ll have a clearer idea of what the enemies want to be doing, which not only helps you decide how they act, but also pick what enemies go into a fight.

If you're feeling totally overwhelmed another option would be to switch to a game system that focuses less on crunchy combat. It's drastic but everyone has game systems that fit better with their particular DMing style, especially in the early days when you're first developing. I'd highly recommend Forged in the Dark, or Powered by the Apocalypse systems, as they still have the punchy action-forward storytelling of d&d without having to manage much on the mechanics side.

[thewertsearch]

TT: I should have gone looking for her. TT: Why didn't I? [...] GG: because you were busy trying to make the best of this situation? TT: John was too. But he went to look for his father. [...] GG: john was being john, and you were being you, which i guess meant taking our problems very seriously and putting all your attention on solving them! GG: and anyway, you and your mom had a much trickier relationship than john and his dad didnt you?

I'm with Jade on this. Presumably, Rose decided that analyzing the game was a more productive use of her time than searching for Mom - a lady who, let's not forget, deliberately abandoned her. Can you really blame her for avoiding the woman?

For a thirteen-year-old, Rose's tactical calls have actually been pretty good. The problem is that Scratch keeps redirecting her plans in directions that benefit him.

GG: now we have all lost guardians GG: dave lost his, and i lost mine in a weird way… uuum even though that was pretty much definitely my fault :\ GG: and even the trolls all lost their monster guardians GG: i think that maybe it is an inevitable part of a game that can be cruel sometimes

I didn’t want this to come to pass, but it always seemed somewhat inevitable.

After all, says Skaia, how are you going to focus on creating a new world, if we don't cut all ties to your old one?

TT: For some reason, despite all the danger, I never thought she was in any trouble. TT: I never believed she would actually die. […] TT: I didn't actually need the ectobiological verification that she was like a mother and a sister at the same time. I always understood that somehow. TT: And I felt she had knowledge and ability beyond what she let on. It was always intimidating, but nonetheless a source of respect which was childishly begrudging on my part.

She worked directly for Skaianet. I'm sure she knew exactly what was coming - and honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if her foresight included her own fate. Prophecy is abundant in this world, and her boss was time-traveling through the session before it even existed.

But... think about this for a second, Rose. If your mother knew everything that awaited you, then it's actually a really good sign that she's been helping you from behind the scenes.

Because if things were truly hopeless, then why was she out there killing monsters for you?

What would be the point, if there was no light at the end of the tunnel?

I'm just saying - that's not the punch of a woman with no hope.

GG: i just hope you arent thinking of doing something rash TT: I already was. TT: I was going to go to sleep, fly to a sun bigger than our universe, drop a bomb in it, and kill myself. […] TT: So if my course of action is to change on account of my mood, it can only become less impetuous, don't you think?

...I’m willing to hear you out.

TT: You never liked my plan very much anyway. […] TT: I made it without a full understanding of the nature of the Scratch. […] TT: Maybe I will go kill Jack myself. TT: Right now.

Oh, man.

Ohhhh, man.

Look. Rose. I'm loving how proactive you're being here, but this plan will kill you instantly - and even if you're dream-revived, you'll die for good when you deliver the Tumor.

Is this what causes the Blackout, then? Is Rose about to power up for this fight, overwhelming the session with eldritch energy?

This fucking guy -_-