#it sounded much better in my head. and looked much better too if you could see the actions/gestures that go along with it. lol

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x wife!reader

Summary: A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: reader and James have a newborn baby (named Harry), mentions of death, murder, blood, violence,

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

The clock reads midnight and still no one has heard from any of them.

You're sitting on the couch, your head in your hands. Lily crouches by your legs, her delicate hands resting on your knee as she rubs soothing circles around them, attempting to match your breathing so she can help you.

Naturally, you have taken this the hardest. 

"They'll be alright," Lily whispers as if she can promise you that all will be okay, but her voice is distant.

The only person you can hear is him. His voice rings in your mind, the way he sounds when he says your name, when he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

You can feel his hand in yours, the way his lips brushed your cheek, and the only thing you imagine when you look up is the front door opening wide and seeing him walk in, with only a few superficial scratches. 

But the door doesn't move and instead, the room is silent. 

It's been hours. It was supposed to be quick. That's what James had said when he kissed your head and said you he loved you. He hadn't even said goodbye to the baby.

"It's an easy mission, nothing dangerous—they're probably lost, you know how Sirius is," Marlene says from her side of the room as if that makes any of this better. 

"You don't know that," you snap and stand up, pacing the room. You look at your friends, their solemn faces only making this worse. You can't stand their sadness, or even worse their pity. "Just—leave me alone—" your voice comes out hoarse, running up the creaky wooden stairs of you and James's little home in Godric's Hollow.

You hold your breath, turning the corner into the nursery where baby Harry should be sleeping soundly; unaware that his father isn't home. 

It's as it should be, you reminded yourself, gently creeping inside. He is just a baby. He shouldn't worry. You'll make sure he never had to worry. You lean over the crib, picking your son up into your arms. He's all bundled up so the movement doesn't wake him. 

"Oh, James," you mutter, feeling the warm tears fall but you hold them in for Harry's sake. This wasn't normal. Something felt wrong. "Where are you?" you ask into the darkness of the room, a line of moonlight from outside gently shines onto Harry's sleeping face.

You've always found it fascinating how much he can look like his father at only one years old and you wonder if that will carry on into his childhood. 

"He looks like a wrinkled pickle," James had said the day of Harry's birth, his arm wrapped around you as you leaned your sweaty head on his bicep, breathing deeply from exhaustion. Your husband had somehow managed to squeeze himself onto the small hospital cot, his hip pressed against yours as he glanced down at the infant pressed against your bare chest. "Ugly little pickle," he muttered, the lovesick smile on his face betraying his true opinion. 

"James," you'd scolded weakly. You're much too exhausted to look up as you keep your baby pressed against your bare breasts, calming him with your breathing.   

"You're beautiful, my love," James said, kissing your hairline. "You did so well. So brave and strong."

You laughed, his voice soothing you. 

"I just know our little pickle is gonna grow up just as handsome as his dad, ain't that right, bud?" James had teased, talking to the infant as if he could hear him. You rolled your eyes, simply letting the warmth of the two boys you loved the most lull you to sleep. 

Harry suddenly begins to stir, his little eyes blinking open and you instantly rock him. "Shh, baby, go back to sleep," you whisper, feeling horrible for waking him up. 

Harry doesn't cry. He looks at you in the darkness. He blinks a few times and then as if on cue, begins to wail. It's as if he can sense your sadness and all he can do with the emotion is cry. You feel horrible, sliding against the crib as you sit up, holding Harry up, as you rock him a little harder. 

"Oh, please, honey," you plead, holding him against your knees as you touch the little tufts of curly hair on his little forehead. You hope none of your friends hear him and give them a reason to check on you. "Please, my lovely, sleep. It's okay. Daddy will be home soon, okay?" 

You say it mostly to calm yourself down, knowing that it will in turn calm your son. You breathe, holding in more tears as you think of James. Where is he? You press a kiss on Harry's head once his cries have ceased.

You aren't sure how much time has passed as you sit on the floor, your eyes tired from crying as your baby sleeps soundly in your arms. The sounds of your friends have drowned into the background. You're having the most horrible dream as you drift to sleep, having cried exhaustion into your body. 

James is gone. He's gone and you can't reach him. 

You shift, your body unconsciously keeping Harry in your arms as your mind plagues you with horrible images. You can almost feel James's palm on your hand, his breath on your skin as he calls your name. 

But he's gone. He's dead.

"My darling," his voice rings in your ears, hoarse and broken. "Wake up." James's calloused fingers touch your cheek, a wetness you don't recognize seeping into your skin and your eyes widen. You're met with James's piercing brown eyes and he forces a strained smile. 

"Hi," he whispers.

Without thinking, you sit up through your haze and almost let Harry slip from your arms. Luckily, James scoots closer, trapping you in between his legs as he holds Harry to his chest, supporting your arms too. Harry wakes up again, his sleep schedule severely messed up as he begins to cry again and your heart breaks. 

"Hi pickle," James whispers, careful only to touch the outside of Harry's blanket with his bloodied hands. You blink, staring at the awful state your husband is in, which even in the moonlight you can tell he's covered in ash and blood, his face littered insuperficial cuts and bruises— still, he's alive. 

"James—" you whimper, touching his cheek gently. "What happened? Where were you? I was worried sick—" You squirm out of his legs and stand, taking Harry from him as you look for your son's favorite pacifier.

Once you've found it, you place it in Harry's mouth and set him back in his crib to fall asleep. You turn, grabbing your wand, and enchanting his crib mobile. Harry seems calmer now and you take James's wrist gently, pulling him out into the hallway. 

You'd already disturbed your poor baby enough.

After closing the nursery door, you turn the light on, placing your wand in the back pocket of your jeans as you look him over. His shirt is bloodied and there's a gash, but the wound has been healed. "Remus healed me. We were ambushed—we barely got away and I- they had to heal me before we came home. I wouldn't let him take me home to you in the state I was in," James says. 

Tears brim in your eyes. 

"But, I'm okay now," he says and lifts his hand as if he wants to hold your cheek but he doesn't since there is still dried blood on his hands. Instead, he smiles at you. "I'm sorry you were so worried. Lily told me you were inconsolable."

You scoff, sniffling as you wrap your arms around his chest. You inhale his scent, holding in more sobs as relief overtakes you. "Of course I was worried, you fool," you pause and sniffle, "I was scared you'd never come home."

James wraps his arms around you. "I will always come home to you and Harry. Always, okay?" 

You nod, resting your ear against your chest as you hold him. He sighs and rests his chin on your head, rubbing your back. "I'm gonna take a shower and you should go to bed, I'll tell you everything in the morning, okay?" 

You shake your head, holding him tighter. You just want to be close to him. You don't want to let him out of your sight.

James can tell and he kisses your head. "Okay, okay, my love. I'm not going anywhere," he says in a whisper and he sighs, "I never want to be away from you again."

[libingan]

—no questions asked.

you’ve always been his, even before the words were ever said—no labels needed when everything else speaks for itself.

i remember candace and jeremy's relationship in phineas and ferb. i liked how jeremy assumed they were already dating and thought to myself "simon riley" so here it is.

it’s always been this way with simon.

the little things you’ve shared, those moments that nobody else gets to see, have slowly built up over time. long drives where the silence is comfortable, quiet moments when you’re wrapped up in a blanket together, his arm draped around your shoulders. you’ve shared soft kisses in the early morning light, whispered words when you think no one’s listening, and occasional touches that linger just a second too long to be deemed innocent. his gruff voice calling you his—just “his,” as if you’re already a part of something bigger, something unspoken.

but the question always lingers in the back of your mind: what are we?

because in your head, you’re not his girlfriend. you never really were. sure, you’ve done couple things—spent hours together, laughed over inside jokes, shared moments that feel like they belong to only the two of you. but whenever you think about it, you can’t quite place a label on what you are. you never had that conversation, the one where he asks you out, where you define what this thing between you is.

and deep down, you’ve always known. maybe it’s not meant to last. maybe simon’s just passing through your life like a storm, wild and unpredictable, leaving you wondering if you’ll ever feel whole again once the dust settles. you’ve never asked for a commitment. it was enough for you to just be close, to keep things easy and fluid, without any promises that might eventually break.

but then, everything changes the moment you decide to confront him.

it’s a quiet night, the kind where the world outside seems to stop, and you’re sitting in the living room, the only sound being the soft hum of the kitchen light. simon’s sprawled across the couch, eyes half-lidded as he scrolls through his phone. you’re sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning your back against the coffee table, and you can’t stop your thoughts from swirling.

the truth has been eating at you for weeks now, months maybe. you have to ask. you need to know if this is really what you want, and more importantly, if it’s what simon wants. so, you let the question slip, unsure of how it’ll come out, but it tumbles from your lips all the same.

“simon,” you begin, your voice quiet but firm, “what are we?”

he doesn’t immediately look up from his phone. it’s as if the question barely registers, but you know he’s heard it. you can feel his attention slowly turning your way, as if his brain needs a second to process the weight of your words.

he puts the phone down, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at you, his gaze soft but intense. he doesn’t say anything at first. instead, his lips curl into a small, knowing smirk.

“what do you mean?” his voice is low, almost like he’s testing the waters.

you swallow, feeling a tightness in your chest, and you try to make your words come out right. “i mean… we do all this stuff, simon. you call me yours, and i… i don’t even know where i stand. we’ve never really talked about what this is. are we… are we dating, or what?”

he blinks at you for a moment, clearly taken aback by your words. it’s almost funny, how much you’ve thought about it, how much you’ve analyzed your every interaction, while simon has likely never questioned it. it’s simple to him. and that’s when it hits you—he’s never even considered that this could be anything other than what it is.

he sighs, a deep, exasperated sound, and leans back into the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. his eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. “what are you on about, woman? you’re my girlfriend.”

the words hang in the air, and for a moment, you can’t quite process them. you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him right. it almost sounds like he’s stating a fact, like it’s something as simple as breathing. his voice is firm, unwavering, as if this was always meant to be the case.

you feel your breath catch, the weight of his words sinking in, and then—just like that—all your worries melt away. you don’t even know why you were so worried in the first place. the uncertainty, the anxiety, it all seems so silly now. you’re not sure whether to laugh or roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all. simon is, as always, so simon about it. there’s no drama, no overthinking, no need for big conversations or declarations.

you’re his. you’re his girlfriend. and there’s no debate.

the relief hits first, followed closely by a mix of amusement and a small flash of annoyance. you try to hold back the grin tugging at your lips. “wait... just like that? no question, no ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ just… you’re my girlfriend?”

he meets your gaze, nonchalant, and shrugs. “that’s right. you’re mine. no need for any of that nonsense. i’ve already decided.”

you stare at him, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. it’s the way he speaks, like he’s already certain, already claimed you. and it feels… good. reassuring, even. but also, just a little bit frustrating. because, honestly, how do you even argue with that?

“god, you’re impossible,” you mutter, a grin breaking through as you roll your eyes. “seriously. you’re so damn sure about everything.”

he just smirks back, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “you should be glad i am, sweetheart. now, come here.”

he pats his lap, and before you can protest, you’re already moving toward him, the tension from moments before completely gone. his arms pull you close, and you settle against him, feeling his familiar warmth. you don’t even need the words anymore. somehow, just being with him like this is enough.

and that, you realize, is exactly what simon’s always known.

[prlssprfctn]

In his new room - in his new house - Jason searches up for a circus performances and stares at them for hours. First, he watches at them mindlessly, unconsciously curious, and then, he starts to take notes.

He is a street kid, and everything about him screams of that. So, he is nowhere near the grace of these performers on the screen. His arms are not that strong, too, but he is agile, and his legs are much stronger - he can think of something.

He can be just as good as the boy he is replacing.

It is not like someone tells him to match Richard Grayson, and it is not like someone admits that Jason is here to replace the first Wonder Boy, but Jason heard Bruce's conversation with Dick earlier. It was meant not for his ears, but it doesn't matter now.

"So, now what, you exile me, and bring a boy to replace me?!"

Jason is not mad. All of it ‐ adoption papers, the manor, the school - is much more than he ever thought he would get in his life. Being replacement doesn't sound as bad anyway; especially, if his brother is so cool.

So, he makes notes on circus performances and slightly chopes his hair. They are much curlier than Dick's - he has more of a wavy ones, and the only ever look that way, when they get long; his childhood photos with short hair looks too straight - but the cut does its magic.

The next day, Bruce compliments his hair absentmindedly and is positively surprised by his new moves on the patrol, asking where he learnt it from. Jason lies about not remembering, but his cheeks are flashed, and his smile is all about teeth. He can't wait to show it to Dick once they finally get on a mission together.

Expect, when they do, Dick just nods and mutters a light-hearted "good job" before leaving to talk with his team. And Jason knows Dick doesn't want to be mean - he gets it; no one feels good about having a replacement, especially the one that seems so cheap in comparison - but he still cries that night in his pillow, feeling himself a little kid, even if he isn't one. Even if he never was.

Jason wonders if his own replacement would make him understand Dick.

But Jason never gets replaced.

No matter the taunting voice of the Lazarus Pit in the back of his head - that sometimes sounds suspiciously like Talia's; you remain unavenged and replaced - and his own intrusive thoughts that spiral in uneven lines, Jason doesn't think Tim was ever meant to be his replacement. Being replaced means to match the person that was meant to be left behind. And no one asked Tim to be like Jason.

If anything, memory of Jason was thrown under the rag, hidden and locked securely in heads of those who survived. And if they brought Jason up, then it was always an example of what Robin shouldn't do: run away, disobey, and allow emotions to consume you. So, not much of an exemplary original. More like an opposite.

Jason feels an urge to explain that to Tim once; when they sit together on the rooftop, almost like a proper family, instead of broken pieces of someone's idea of a one.

'You could never replace me,' he says, and the instant it leaves his mouth, he knows it came out wrong.

Tim rolls his eyes.

'Yeah, dude. Whatever.'

'No, I mean—' He grits his teeth, scrapping slightly the back of his hand. 'I mean... You could never replace me, because... Because you were always better.'

Tim freezes. His big blue eyes shift in something more confused, and it is almost as if he is not sure how he needs to react — to protest? To agree? To thank him?

Jason doesn't know what to do, too.

He wants to say: it is easy as that, babybird. They wanted to have someone who would have nothing in common with me — someone who could help them to forget about my existence, about the existence of the failed Robin.

But he can't make himself speak again. And he is not sure he wants to stay any longer to hear Tin manging to put his thoughts in the words; he is better than him at this, too, and he almost always sounds convincing.

So, he leaves.

In his room - in the building he owns now - he ruffles his outgrown hair, fluffs up the white streak, and passes by his only remaining photo with Bruce in the frame, on the shelf under the stolen tire.

He still does this semi-circus move in his fights - almost frozen in the air, with his back arched - but he doesn't expect anyone to compliment him anymore.

[shinig6mis]

it had been a few seconds since bakugou had knocked on your door, but it felt like a lifetime. his mind raced in circles, not knowing whether his thoughts were rooted in paranoia or if there was some truth to them. why hadn't you texted him? it wasn’t like you two had a strict routine or anything, but after everything that had happened last night—how you two had stayed together, cuddling and falling asleep—he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different.

every other night, you've been in and out of his apartment, always leaving within ten minutes. but last night, something different happened. he couldn’t explain it, but it felt right to be lying there with you, sharing your warmth, hearing the steady rhythm of your breathing as you fell asleep. he could still feel the weight of you in his arms, the way you fit against him perfectly like you were meant to be there.

then, when he woke up, you were gone. no text. no call. no nothing. his heart squeezed painfully at the thought of it and he found himself racking his brain with the worst possible scenarios. maybe it had been too much. maybe crossing that boundary had been the mistake. maybe you’d seen the intimacy between you both as a sign that this arrangement had to end. maybe you regretted it, and that terrified him.

so, here he was, standing at your door, hands tense by his sides, hoping he wasn’t about to hear something he wasn’t ready to face.

when you finally opened the door, your eyes were slightly puffy, your hair pulled up in a messy bun, and you looked far too tired for someone who just woke up. the faint glow of a desk lamp illuminated your room. his eyes went to glance at the textbooks scattered on your desk and the laptop still open with whatever assignments you had yet to finish.

“bakugou?” you blinked in confusion. “what are you doing here?”

“i—uh…” bakugou started, caught off guard by the sight of you. you were wearing those loose pajamas that he secretly found adorable. “can i come in?”

you didn’t hesitate, stepping aside to let him into your room. the moment he entered, he made a beeline for your bed, sitting down, while you stood across from him, arms crossed in that way you always did.

his eyes stayed on you as he tried to gather his words. “you didn’t text after last night,” he finally blurted, his voice rough as always, but the worry in his tone was clear. he couldn’t stand it anymore.

you let out a soft sigh and explained, “i’ve been buried in assignments, bakugou. aizawa’s been on my ass, and i just haven’t had the time to check my phone.”

he exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing as you spoke. he’d convinced himself he’d lost you, but hearing that explanation made everything feel weirdly better. “so, no… nothing’s wrong?” he hated how nervous he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. this arrangement you both have meant more to him than he was willing to admit, and the thought of losing it scared the hell out of him.

you raised an eyebrow, taking a moment before saying, “we can talk about last night tomorrow if you want. for now… just stay. sleep over if you want. you can be annoying and overbearing in the morning.”

the relief that washed over him was almost overwhelming. he hadn’t realized how much the silence had been eating at him until now. you weren’t breaking things off. you were just distracted, which was probably what he should’ve assumed in the first place. but he couldn’t stop thinking that maybe, just maybe, he had crossed a line he wasn’t supposed to.

for the rest of the night, you sat at your desk, buried in your work, while he watched you, propped up on your bed with his arm supporting his head.

it was quiet. only the sound of your focused typing and the occasional shuffle of papers filling the space between you two. he couldn't help but appreciate the view, watching you get lost in your assignments. despite how complicated this arrangement felt sometimes, he loved the fact that he was the only one who ever got to see you like this. no one else.

he stayed there, his mind quiet for the first time in hours, just taking in the sight of you. you were everything to him in that moment, even if you didn’t know it.

time passed, and eventually, you closed your laptop and crawled into bed. without saying anything, you curled up under the blanket, pulling it tightly around you. bakugou hesitated for a second before sliding in behind you, his arm instinctively wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. he buried his face into the back of your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin.

he felt the tension leave his body as he held you, but his mind still wouldn’t let go. there was a an annoying part of him that wondered what you really thought of him. if you felt the same or if you didn’t. if this was all just temporary to you. but the other part of him that refused to let go of his pride was content just being here. being with you. even if nothing between you was official.

you shifted slightly in his arms, making him tighten his hold on you. it wasn’t perfect. it wasn’t what he had expected when he first got into this arrangement with you. but right now, with you in his arms, it was enough. and maybe, he could keep pretending that it always would be.

© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[chosove]

*tw!!! daddy kink!!! + a lotttt of size kink stuff!!! fem bodied reader*

I know he gets such a like…almost ‘selfish lover’ rep but in my humble daddy issue biased opinion, toji would 100% talk you through it like…

Everyone already finds him so intimidating, if not from his stature and general appearance, its his gruff voice and combative personality. He doesnt even mean to do it, he just always has that trademark scowl on his face that makes people afraid to say excuse me in grocery stores :(

Not you though, you still served him with your bright smile as he checked out of the store. You asked how he was and giggled at his flirty response of ‘why, ya wanna make my day better?’. I mean…other than his kids he never had people willingly make small talk with him, let alone laugh at his old man jokes.

Godddd he just gets so flustered when you look at him with your big doe eyes and say have a fantastic day :(

Thats why when he sees you on the dating app megumi downloaded for him (against his will), he feels his heart skip a beat. I just know he’s all nervous, thinking how dirty he is as a self proclaimed ‘old man’ finding such a pretty young thing attractive- i mean you could literally be his daughter. All these worried thoughts flitted through his head while he tried to decide, not realizing his thumb was just a littttttlllleeeee too close to the screen as he accidentally matched with you.

Oh.

Oh.

I mean it was an accident for him, but was it an accident for you? It couldnt be if you were texting him already, a message reading “hey there stranger :)” popping up on his phone.

And when you liked his simple response of “Hello.”, responding with “anything i can do to make your night better, toji?”, that couldnt just be a typo or misclick, right?

You made him feel like a teenager again, the butterflies he felt only becoming more intense when you asked him to come over n’ tell you in person :( he nearly jumped out of his skin trying to get ready, hands fumbling with that pinstripe button-up he’d been saving for something special (gumi’s grad or….i guess his first date in forever). It was only at times like this he wished he had someone to call to help him chill out.

Maybe after tonight that’d be you though? He hoped so at least, and even when you pulled him into your apartment, pushing him on the couch while he stuttered about getting to know each other first, he knew you were the girl for him.

It did take a while for him to actually get up to your speed- he didnt wanna break you or anything. You were just so, so desperate for him, tugging at his shirt while you grinded your clothed cunt against his beefy thighs, filthy words coming out of your mouth only making it harder for toji to take it slow with you.

“God you’re so big toji, feel like even jus’ your fingers can split me in half.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you, knew you’d treat me better than all the guys my age. Ya gonna fuck me right toji? Please?”

“C’mon toji…know you wanna breed me, bet it’ll only take one time for me to give you a baby. D’you want that daddy?”

It was no later you said that word that he was picking you up, throwing you onto the tiny mattress your studio apartment held. Yeah, he definitely wasnt getting out of this alive- but neither were you judging by the way his big hands began to unbuckle his belt, unzipping the pants you so graciously left a giant wet stain on, the outline of his cock in his boxers making your mouth water.

“See what ya do to me, pretty?” His deep voice spoke, one hand giving his throbbing dick a few much-needed strokes while he stared down at you like a wolf. “Nothin’ to say anymore, hm? C’mon, i liked hearing it all.”

He hadnt even pressed himself against you before you let out a whine, his hands resting themselves on your sides already being enough to make your hips jump. If it weren’t for the fact he was now intent on hearing more of those pretty sounds from you, he’d have let out a whine himself from how soft your skin felt against his worked hands. And when he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs, clenching his jaw at the sight of strands of wetness sticking to your pussy, he nearly came in his pants.

“Poor girl, bet this sweet pussy hasnt been treated right in forever hm?” The question nearly brought tears to your eyes, both from the truth of it and from the fact he began to thumb at your glistening cunt, the rough pad of his finger being the exact pressure you needed on your pulsing bundle of nerves. “T-toji i might cum alr-”you began, but you werent able to get your sentence out before his hand came down to slap against your cunt.

“What happened to my good girl from earlier? Y’know not to call me toji, little bird. Whats my name?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, fingers covered in your wetness now coming to play with your hard nipples.

Clinging to his shaggy hair like it was your lifeline, you nearly cried out as you came undone for him, the desperate moan of ‘thank you daddy’ falling from your lips. He smiled as you writhed below him, your body convulsing while he let you ride what would be the first of many orgasms that night.

[sleepdeprivedfrfr]

"Tsuki, light mine next!"  Your tiny hands fiddled with the  firecracker while staring up at Katsuki in awe.

       "Wait your turn!" Another boy yelled.

      Katsuki glared at the boy and snatched the fire cracker from your hands, lighting it, and threw it on the floor. The other children watched in amazement, while you clapped at the mini explosions on the ground.

"Your quirk is so cool Tsuki!" You cheered earning a prideful smirk from Katsuki.

"That's nothing Y/n, watch this!" Katsuki stood next to you and lifted both of his small arms above his head, which was comically larger than his small body, and opened his palms up to the sky and let off a much larger explosion than the fire crackers.

  Many of the children squealed at the loud sound then cheered at the loud explosion. You were the closest to Katsuki and the sound boomed loudly in your ears, causing you to yelp and cover your ears with your hands. Katsuki was now surrounded by the rest of the kids who cheered and clapped for him.

There was a high pitched ring in your ears, you squatted down with your hand remaining over your ears and eyes squeezed shut.

"Y/n are you okay?" A soft voice rang out followed by the sound of small footsteps against the gravel. You looked up and met a pair of familiar soft green eyes and nodded your head.

"I'm okay Zuku." You said as you grabbed Izuku's reached out hand, he looked at you with his same worried look he carried too much for a six year old.

"What are you doing here Izuku? Get lost already." Katsuki gripped your hand and pulled you to his side, the other kids stood behind him laughing at the poor boy.

  Izuku frowned and fiddled with hands,

"I heard you guys play-"

"Don't be so mean Tsuki."  You freed your hand from Katsuki's grip, his eyes widened and his expression turned into a pout.

"Don't talk to him Y/n, or you'll turn into a loser too." Katsuki snarled and grabbed your hand pulling you away from a now teary eyed Izuku.

    You could feel the sadness seeping from Izuku, a pit formed in your stomach as you stopped in your tracks causing Katsuki to lose his grip on you.

   "Why are you so mean to him Tsuki? He's my friend." You said innocently.

"Why do you care so much about him? You have me, I'm your best friend. Our quirks will make us the top heroes one day, and he's a quirkless loser Y/N!" Katsuki said angrily.

  A wave of guilt suddenly washed over the little blonde boy, it was unusual for him to feel that way, but for some reason, he was calmer around you and matched the emotions you often felt. The usually temperamental boy often found himself dragging you around with him unconsciously for that reason. 

"He was just trying to help me." You turned around and ran after Izuku.

   The feeling washed away as he watched you grab Izuku's hand and smile at him warmly, the green haired boy even had the nerve to wipe his tears and return your smile. Katsuki's hands balled up into fists, he kicked the dirt before walking off with the rest of the children following him.

  Why did you treat him so well? What was so special about him? Why did he get all of your attention? Katsuki couldn't wrap his head around it.

What made the stupid broccoli haired boy better than him?

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

this is the first chapter of my own fic on my wattpad, lmk how it is and if I should continue! (Ik it’s not great but I’m coming out of a 4 year slump lol) I’m also aware Tsuki or suki is a girls name but trust me it’s on purpose ;p

likes, comments and reblogs appreciated!

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Ahem I have a request if it's no problem-

So hear me out a shadow the hedgehog x reader where the reader was a scrapped project in the line for project shadow. Proving not to be strong and was sealed away for not being of use to the quest for the ultimate lifeform. Then g.u.n found you and trained you to be a fighter years later. After time you and shadow met and became close and fell in love. For years you kept the secret you were an experiment from the ark much less, until shadow stumbles across the project file and confronts you about it part angry and ort sad you didn't tell him. Perhaps the reader runs off upset and feeling terrible after, and shadow in time finds them and you both talk it out under the stars-

Sorry this idea sounded good in my head lol.

“A Reasonable Secret”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Project Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: You never wanted Shadow to know your past. That you were nothing more than a scrapped prototype. But life is not always fair.

Notes: Ough I love fics like these…I’m gonna make Reader not have Black Arms blood though, because it’d probably complicate things. Hope you enjoy regardless!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

You always knew you weren’t normal.

It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that you were a failed prototype of Project Shadow.

You couldn’t even fight back then.

Not until G.U.N. found you three years ago.

They unfroze you and took you in, treating you better than the scientists on the A.R.K. ever did.

Which is how you met your partner, Shadow the Hedgehog.

You meant to tell him that you, too, were a project, just like him, but…

He found out before you could tell him.

While you were doing paperwork, someone slams something down on your desk, causing you to jolt.

You look up to who did it, only to see Shadow glaring at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he spats.

Confused, you look at what he slammed on the desk, and your pupils immediately dilate to a small size.

It’s your project documents.

“I-” you start. “Shadow, I meant to tell you, I promise, I just-”

“Save it,” he says. “I…I need some time to process. Don’t go looking for me.”

Shadow teleports away and tears start to fall from your face.

Stupid.

Stupid.

STUPID.

That should’ve been the first thing you told him when you got together.

“(He probably hates me now,)” you think to yourself.

You finish up the paperwork and excuse yourself for the rest of the day, locking yourself in your room.

You feel horrible.

…

Maybe those scientists were right about you.

You never deserved to see the world.

You were useless. Worthless.

You deserved to-

…

A knock on your door cuts you out of your thoughts.

As soon as you open the door, you’re engulfed in a tight hug from your partner.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t of snapped at you like that. You didn’t deserve it.”

You return the hug, snuggling your head in the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay,” you mutter. “I should have told you sooner.”

Shadow removes himself from the hug and gives you a kiss on the nose.

“What I did still wasn’t right,” he says. “Is there a way I can make it up to you?”

“Just you being here is enough for me, Shadow,” you tell him. "But it would be nice to see the stars with you."

Shadow takes out his Chaos Emerald from his quills and mutters "Chaos Control," the two of you being brought outside.

You lay down on the ground first, Shadow following suit, with you holding his hand as the two of you look at the stars.

You couldn’t be happier with him.

[celestiamour]

HAAII!! would u be able to do se-mi (player 380) comfort where the reader has like a nightmare and goes to her?

ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ you look for her after a nightmare┊0.5k words

contains: comfort! canon-typical violence, “friends” with feelings

➤ author's note: short one! college and writer’s block is kicking my ass

“se-mi? are you awake?” you whispered, keeping your voice as small as possible so as not to disturb her if she wasn’t. 

she looked to the side to see your head poking above the frame of her bed, surprised to see you but not complaining considering how bored she was alone in her thoughts. “yeah, what’s up?” instinctively, she scooted over to the side to make room for you to join her on her bunk, allowing you to crawl under the blanket after a moment of hesitance.

“i hope i’m not bothering you…” you also hoped she wouldn’t be able to tell the extent of how flustered you were at the close proximity. the sheets still smelled like her and you had to consciously stop yourself from leaning in too close to her warmth so as to not appear strange. 

“no, don’t worry, i’m a bit of an insomniac.” she’s always been a night owl with a sleep schedule so horrid it would make any functional member of society gasp, and tonight is no different. aside from the two of you, she didn’t think there was anyone else awake aside from the guards watching over them. there was no way to tell what time it was, but she would make an educated guess of around three in the morning. “did something happen?”

“i-i had a nightmare…” despite it being a completely natural thing, you sounded embarrassed. she briefly wondered why you came to her instead of young-mi or dae-ho considering they would have been a lot better at comforting you than she would be, but then you continued, “you… died in it, and i got really scared…”

she couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the notion and reached out to brush your hair out of the way to get a better look at your pretty face in the dim light, “you don’t have to be scared for me, i’m a lot tougher than i look. i don’t plan on dying anytime soon without a fight.”

“yeah… i guess so… honestly, i wish i could be more like you,” you sigh wistfully, “you’re so calm and collected even in a hellhole like this, i don’t know how you do it…”

“well, it helps to have a good friend like you by my side…” a good friend she calls you, though it carries a positive meaning, feels a bit bitter on her tongue when spoken. you were supposed to be an ally and nothing more, someone whom she looks out for in exchange for the same, and yet she finds herself wishing for more— wishing to hold you tightly in her arms with promises you’ll both make it out together. to call you a girlfriend would be much sweeter.

but all she can do is exist in the same space with you, pat your head, and tell you to sleep since you’ll need all the energy you can get for the next day. you fall before she does, shaky breathing slowly falling steady, and she continues to stay awake, staring at your slightly chapped lips through half-lidded eyes wishing to kiss them.

[cosmiclily]

chapter four: bad decisions

wc: 2.4k

cw: mdni, suggestive, cussing.

You wake up with a pounding headache and a sour taste lingering on your tongue. Your body feels heavy, and when you try to stretch, something—or rather, someone—solid stops you. Panic sets in instantly.

God, what did I do? Did I go home with someone? Did I get kidnapped? What is going on?

Your heart races as you take in your surroundings. Relief floods you when you realize you're in your hotel room. The familiar sight of your clothes haphazardly tossed across the floor reassures you that at least you're in the right place. But the warmth next to you makes it clear you're not alone.

Slowly, you turn, dread pooling in your stomach as you brace yourself to see who—or what—is in bed with you.

A mop of black hair catches your eye.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Your brain short-circuits as you stare. You don’t know whether to feel relieved that it’s someone you know—or horrified for the exact same reason.

What the fuck is Vi doing in my bed?

And then it hits you.

Why am I naked?!

You pull the covers up to your chest, your breathing shallow as you try to piece together what happened last night. Images flash through your mind—shots with Jinx and Ekko, the dance floor, the blonde woman... Vi’s piercing gaze.

Vi stirs beside you, mumbling something incoherent as she shifts, her hand brushing against your leg. You freeze, your heart thudding so loud it feels like it might wake her up.

What the hell did I do?

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on the images from the previous night, but everything is a blur. All you get are flashes—Vi and you on the dance floor, the feel of her hand on your waist, the two of you laughing in the back of a taxi, her lips crashing into yours, the elevator ride where things got heated, her grip tightening as her hand slid lower, lower, lower into your skirt.

Was that real? Or just a dream?

Before you can unravel your fragmented memories, a knock on the door jolts you out of your spiraling thoughts. Panic flares in your chest as you scramble to wrap the blanket tightly around your body.

You tiptoe to the door, peeking through the peephole, and your stomach sinks. It’s Archie. He doesn’t look very pleased.

Of course. Perfect timing.

Taking a deep breath, you crack the door open just enough to poke your head out. “Good morning, Archie!” you whisper in your best attempt at sounding chipper, though your voice cracks halfway through. “Um, this isn’t a great moment. I’m... I’m really sorry. I’ll catch up with you soon, okay? Please don’t be mad!”

Before Archie can get a word in, you ramble through your apology and slam the door shut, leaning against it as your heart races.

From the other side of the door, you hear a muffled, “What the bloody hell—?” followed by the sound of his retreating footsteps.

You exhale, relieved he didn’t press the issue, but when you turn around, you realize Vi is now awake, sitting up in bed with a lazy smirk on her face.

“Smooth,” she says, her voice low and gravelly from sleep. “Real smooth.”

You groan, pressing your palms against your temples. “What the fuck happened last night, Violet?”

“You know as much as I do, princess,” she replies, picking up her shirt from the floor. “For all I know, you could have taken advantage of me. I don’t remember shit.”

"Stop with the jokes, this is serious. I can only remember things clearly up until that stupid purple shot Jinx gave us. Do you think your sister could have drugged us?" You ramble, walking in circles in your room, your mind racing a million miles per hour, the pounding headache making it impossible to focus.

"Wow, too many words, too soon," she says, massaging her temples. "But I don't think she drugged us. She’s a little crazy, yeah, but not a criminal. You know her better than that."

"Yeah, yeah. God, the one time I decide to let loose, I end up sleeping with you." You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands over your face, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

"You weren't complaining last night, that’s all I have to say." Vi says with a mischievous grin before casually walking toward the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

"Oh, so you remember it, you little shit." You bang your fist lightly on the door, your voice rising in both disbelief and annoyance. You hear her laughing from the other side.

"Relax, princess," she calls back, her laughter muffled. "You’re just mad ‘cause it was fun."

You press your ear to the door, shaking your head, your chest tightening with a mix of confusion, embarrassment, and something else—something you can’t quite name. The whole situation feels like an overwhelming blur, but there’s no denying the way it all seems to linger, just beyond the edge of your memory. And God, did it feel good.

──────────────────────

The van looked like a funeral—Jinx and Ekko were sharing earbuds, Vi had a massive blue neck pillow and sunglasses on, and you looked like a zombie. Archie climbed into the van with a disappointed look on his face, his eyes scanning the group before he let out a fake cough to get your attention.

“I wanted to do this formally, with time and all that, over breakfast, but it seemed like you all had other plans,” he said, his voice gradually becoming more agitated. As he spoke, his accent thickened with each word, the tension rising in his posture. You could hear Jinx stifling her laughter from across the van, and it only made things worse.

“This small briefing will have to do,” he continued, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. "After the show yesterday, some producers called me, and we're discussing a label contract, and a single."

You blinked a few times, still trying to wake up, but the words didn’t immediately sink in. A label contract? A single? You rubbed your temples, the pounding headache from last night threatening to come back full force.

“So... you’re telling me we’re getting a record deal?” Vi mumbled, her voice muffled by the neck pillow, still clearly not fully awake.

“There are a couple of labels interested in you,” Archie replied, his tone more serious now. “So we’ll talk about this properly when we’re back home. But yes. So, you better get your pens ready and use your explosive emotions to work.” He said the last part while looking directly at Vi, his expression pointed.

Vi grunted in response, but otherwise, didn’t offer much. The drive to the airport was uneventful, the hum of the tires on the road providing a constant background as your mind started to wander. Many ideas popped into your head—some excited, others hesitant—but through it all, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were on the edge of something big.

You allowed yourself to dream a little, imagining the potential of the label deal, the single that could launch everything you’d ever wanted. But just as quickly, your thoughts kept drifting back to last night. You drank water, hoping it might ease the lingering effects of the night before, and slowly, the memories started coming back—bit by bit.

You remembered how, after the shot, Violet pulled you onto the dance floor. The look on her face that you couldn’t decipher long gone, taking place for one that was a mix of something intense and wild. Then, as the music played, you talked, and after a particularly heated song, you kissed her. It was the best kiss you’d ever received—urgent, electrifying, and full of something unspoken. In the background, you could hear Jinx’s laughter.

“At least she’s not thinking about the one who shouldn’t be named,” Jinx teased between giggles.

After that, it was all a blur of heat and excitement. You were the one who asked Vi if she wanted to come back to the hotel. You initiated the makeout session in the backseat of the taxi—poor taxi driver, you thought, hoping you’d left him a generous tip for having to endure that. And when you reached the hotel, you were the one who made the first move, sliding your hands where they probably shouldn’t have been in the elevator.

You leaned your head back against the seat, your stomach twisting into knots as the weight of everything finally hit you.

What are we going to do about last night?

You really needed to talk to Violet. You had to. But at the same time, you weren’t sure what to say or how to approach it without everything feeling like a mess. Was it just another reckless night? Or something more?

You weren’t interested in any type of relationship, especially not with someone who had just come out of a long-term one. Vi was still getting over Caitlyn, and you had seen the way she still looked at the mention of her—torn between letting go and holding on. The last thing you wanted was to be someone’s rebound, or worse, complicate things further. You had your own emotional baggage to deal with, and you didn’t need to add another layer to it.

──────────────────────

You made sure to share a seat on the plane with Vi, it was a short flight but it was enough time to talk about what last night had meant.

“So… should we talk about last night or what?” You whisper to her, so no one else would hear.

She looked at you over her sunglasses. “What is there to talk about? We fucked, what’s the big deal?”

Your cheeks flushed and you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or rage. “The big deal is that this” you say pointing between the two of you “can become very complicated, very fast, and we have a career on the line.”

“Listen, princess, if it’s that complicated for you, we can pretend it never happened, you don’t talk about it, i don’t talk about it and what’s done is done. I don’t think Ekko nor Jinx remember that we left together, and if they do they won’t mention it.”

Vi’s nonchalant response sent a wave of irritation through you, but there was something else, too—disappointment, maybe? You weren’t even sure why it stung so much. Her ability to brush things off so easily made you question whether last night meant anything to her at all.

Leaning in closer, you lowered your voice. “You don’t get it, Vi. It’s not just about us. It’s about the band, the dynamic, the fact that if this gets messy, it could ruin everything we’ve worked for.”

She sighed, finally pushing her sunglasses onto her head and meeting your gaze. Her piercing eyes carried an intensity that made it impossible to look away. “Okay, fine. I get it. You’re worried. But, honestly? Nothing’s gonna get messy unless you make it messy. You’re the one overthinking this.”

You felt your jaw clench. “Overthinking? I’m trying to be an adult here, Vi. I’m not saying last night wasn’t… fun, but—”

She cut you off with a smirk that both infuriated and unnerved you. “Fun. Sure, we’ll call it that.”

Your glare sharpened, the frustration bubbling over. “Can you be serious for one second? I’m trying to have a real conversation here.”

Vi leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms as her smirk faded. Her voice was softer this time, more measured. “Alright. If you want to talk about it, then let’s talk. Last night was... unexpected, yeah. But it doesn’t have to mean anything unless we decide it does. If you want to chalk it up to a drunken mistake, fine. I won’t hold it against you.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond.

“Vi,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully, “I don’t think it was a mistake. I don’t… regret it.” Her eyes widened slightly, and she tilted her head as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. “But I also know we can’t afford to let this become a problem. The band, the label—there’s too much at stake.”

Vi was silent for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she let out a dry chuckle, running a hand through her hair. “You’re such a perfectionist, you know that? Always worrying about the ‘big picture.’ Sometimes, you just gotta live a little.”

“Living a little is what got us into this mess,” you shot back, though your voice had lost its edge.

“Fine,” she said, her tone light but carrying a weight that wasn’t lost on you. “We’ll keep it professional. I promise.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the pit forming in your stomach. Something about the way she said it didn’t sit right, as if her words carried an unspoken challenge.

The rest of the flight passed in strained silence, though Vi’s presence next to you was impossible to ignore. Every accidental brush of her arm against yours sent a ripple through your entire body. You tried to distract yourself with thoughts of the future—the meeting with the label, the potential single, the career you’d spent years chasing. But no matter how hard you tried to push forward, your mind kept circling back to her.

The memories hit you in waves, sharp and vivid. Vi’s arm brushed yours, and suddenly you were back in the elevator, her hands gripping your arms as you kissed your way down her neck. The low, guttural sound she made when you found her pulse point echoed in your mind, impossible to shake. You heard her sigh in frustration as she struggled with a packet of peanuts, and your brain betrayed you with the memory of her other frustrated sounds—breathless and needy, muffled against your skin as she —

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you desperately tried to stay grounded. You were going insane. How were you supposed to keep this professional when every single part of her was burned into your mind? The way she looked at you last night, the feel of her hands on your skin, the taste of her lips—it was all too much.

The truth was unavoidable. You were completely, hopelessly in trouble. And if Vi noticed your internal struggle, she didn’t show it. She just sat there, casually munching on her peanuts, completely at ease while you felt like you were unraveling.

Being professional was already proving to be far more difficult than you had anticipated.

──────────────────────

masterlist - chapter five

notes: my birthday was yesterday, officially 22!! anyways, here is a new chapter, there isn’t anything explicit (but it will come!!!) but it’s a kickstart to stir things 😋

taglist: @saturnhas82moons @baylegend6 @oidloid @vaebear @wicked-laugh

[rosedustdreams]

Eyes on You pt2 pt1

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Your mind kept replaying the moment Walker’s eyes met yours, the warmth in his smile, and the way he’d seemed genuinely interested in every word you said. It was probably nothing just an actor being nice to a fan. But the comments on your Instagram post kept poking at the tiny spark of doubt in your head.

Could there be something more?

You scrolled through your notifications, overwhelmed by the sheer number of likes and comments. Even people you didn’t know were chiming in:

“Why does he look like he’s about to write you a poem?” “Y’all better get married so I can say I shipped it from the start.” “Imagine meeting Percy Jackson and he looks like that at you.”

You laughed at some of them, rolling your eyes at the absurdity, but a part of you felt... flustered. The way Walker was looking at you in the photo wasn’t something you could easily brush off.

Meanwhile, across the city, Walker was sitting on his hotel bed, phone in hand. His team had insisted he stay off social media for the night something about staying focused and avoiding distractions but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

He’d spent the past half hour scrolling through Instagram, his account logged into a private alt that only a few close friends knew about. When your post popped up, he stopped. His thumb hovered over the screen as he stared at the photo.

There you were, standing next to him with the brightest smile, and all he could think about was how his gaze had betrayed him. He hadn’t meant to be so obvious. It wasn’t like him to get distracted, especially at events like this. But there was something about you—your genuine enthusiasm, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Percy Jackson, and the way you seemed equally nervous and excited all at once.

The comments under your post weren’t helping his resolve to forget about it. His favorite: “Bro, Walker’s out here looking at her like shes hung the stars. Good luck recovering from this one.”

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, but the grin on his face lingered.

-----

The next morning, you woke up to find your post had gone semi-viral. The caption was still innocent enough, but people were dissecting every pixel of the photo, reading into things you’d never even noticed.

In your DMs, one message stood out. It was from an account with no profile picture and only a few followers. Normally, you’d ignore something like that, but the first line caught your attention:

“Hey, I hope this doesn’t seem weird, but it’s Walker.”

Your heart practically stopped. There was no way, right? Someone had to be messing with you. But when you clicked on the account, the bio read something along the lines of: “Just a guy who loves movies and occasionally plays a demigod.”

Oh. My. Gods.

“Hi!” you replied, your fingers trembling as you typed. “If this is a prank, it’s a very convincing one.”

Within seconds, you saw the three little dots indicating he was typing.

“It’s really me, I swear. I just... wanted to thank you again for coming yesterday. It was great meeting you.”

You stared at the message, your mind racing. Walker Scobell—the Walker Scobell—was messaging you? Thanking you? What universe had you stumbled into?

“Wow, uh, thank you,” you replied, trying to sound casual even though your heart was pounding out of your chest. “It was amazing meeting you too. I’m still trying to process it all.”

His response came quickly: “Yeah, same here, honestly.”

What did that mean? Same here? Did he mean he was trying to process meeting you? You didn’t want to read too much into it, but the idea alone made your cheeks flush.

The two of you messaged back and forth for hours, the conversation flowing so naturally it felt surreal. He asked about your favorite PJO book, your favorite characters, and what you thought of the trailer. You found yourself laughing at his jokes about filming and how nervous he’d been to live up to fans’ expectations.

At one point, he said, “You were one of the coolest people I met yesterday. Just thought you should know.”

You stared at the message, rereading it a dozen times before replying: “That’s really sweet of you to say. Honestly, meeting you made my whole year.”

Somehow, you ended up exchanging phone numbers. Walker insisted it would be easier to talk there, and you didn’t argue. The idea of having his number saved in your phone felt both exhilarating and completely insane.

Over the next few weeks, you kept in touch. At first, it was small things memes about Percy Jackson, updates on his filming schedule, and random stuff about your day. But as time went on, the conversations grew deeper.

He asked about your life, your dreams, and what had drawn you to the series in the first place. You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn’t expected, and he did the same.

One night, he sent you a selfie just him in his trailer, holding up a peace sign with the caption: “Long day, but this made it better.”

“This” clearly referred to your latest text, a long-winded rant about how the gods in Greek mythology needed better communication skills.

You responded with a picture of your PJO book collection stacked neatly on your desk. “This is the shrine I’ve built in your honor,” you joked.

Walker replied, “Pretty sure you’re the only person I’d be okay with building a shrine for me.”

And just like that, the line between casual fan and something more began to blur.

A/N: pt3?????

Tags: @izzystylinson, @sophand4n4, @kaiwrites092, @shellsarepretty, @cheoriemoawa

[marscardigan]

through the valley, part vi

through the valley masterlist

summary: what if Joel didn’t lie? what if there was more people immune? more people like ellie? more people like you?

word count: 12.7k (sorry)

warnings: this fic doesn’t follow the original plot from tlou part II. canon typical violence. murder and blood.

The next day, you woke up in Ellie's arms. It was cold outside, and even though you loved your dress, you were freezing underneath it. That is why Ellie said it would be better for you to sleep by her side - but deep inside you knew Ellie wanted it as much as you did. None of you spoke about it, though. Instead, you told her about Isaac, and how he caused the murder of your mother, and this war between the two groups.

You told her how much you wanted him dead, to suffer, and Ellie knew that feeling too well. The both of you tracked down Isaac’s hideout. You knew the wolves were planning to attack the island, but when you saw the trucks, you realized it was sooner than you may have anticipated. You were hiding behind a container when Ellie saw you shivering, and put her hand on your thigh, smiling at you for comfort.

The plan was simple: sneak in, get to Isaac, and end him. Ellie motioned toward a side entrance, her eyes scanning the area for patrols. You both moved quietly, the crunch of gravel underfoot, barely audible over the sound of the rain. The air was thick with tension, and every step felt like it carried the weight of your past and future combined. She paused at the base of a fire escape, looking up at the rusted ladder, motioning for you to stay put while she climbed up to check for a way in. You crouched behind a stack of crates, your eyes flickering between her figure and the surrounding area.

Suddenly, Ellie froze mid-climb, her head tilting as she listened. You heard it too—a faint rustling, the soft shuffle of boots on dirt. Ellie dropped silently back down, her face tense as she whispered, “We’ve got company.”

Before you could respond, the first shadow appeared around the corner, followed by another, and another. Seraphites. They moved with the eerie grace you’d come to associate with them. Ellie gripped your arm, pulling you further into the shadows. “We can’t let them get in there first,” you hissed. “If they find Isaac…”

She nodded, fingers tightening around her weapon. “We’ll cut through them.” The first soldiers who stepped to stop you were easy to kill. And when you encrusted the axe in the last soldier standing, Ellie smirked, a dark glint in her eyes. “That’s my girl.”

The two of you waited for the Scars to pass, your breaths synchronized in the stillness. As the last one moved ahead, Ellie gave you a quick nod. Together, you crept out of the shadows, your steps silent but deliberate.

The first scar didn’t see it coming. Ellie’s knife was quick, precise, and merciless. You followed her lead, your movements fueled by a mix of fear and determination.

But stealth only lasted so long. The moment one of them spotted Ellie, chaos erupted. Shouts filled the air, and you found yourself ducking behind cover as arrows and bullets flew.

“Keep moving!” Ellie shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. “We’ve gotta get to that door!”

You ran as fast as you could, legs hurting. Bullets whizzed past, some so close you could feel the heat as they tore through the air. Ellie was right behind you, her gun blazing as she covered your advance. But there were too many of them, and even if you arrived to Isaac, scars would find you sooner or later.

Ellie cursed under her breath, “We don’t have time for this!” she growled. She grabbed your arm, forcing you to look at her. “Listen to me. You go. Now.”

“What? No, Ellie, I—”

“I’ll handle them,” she interrupted, already turning back toward the attackers. “You’ve gotta get to Isaac before they do. You know why we’re here. I owe you, anyway.”

Your throat tightened, a protest bubbling up, but you swallowed it down. She was right. This wasn’t just about revenge—it was about stopping Isaac before he caused more destruction. But leaving her behind felt like ripping out a piece of yourself.

“Ellie…” Your voice cracked, barely audible over the gunfire.

She gave you a quick, sharp smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just go, okay? I’ll catch up.” With a shaky nod, you turned and bolted for the door, your heart hammering in your chest.

You reached a stairwell, the metal steps groaning under your weight as you ascended. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps, your mind racing with worry about Ellie. But you couldn’t let yourself falter.

At the top of the stairs, you found yourself in a wide corridor, its walls lined with flickering fluorescent lights. The sound of voices reached your ears—Isaac’s soldiers, their tone urgent and panicked. You pressed yourself against the wall, edging closer to the source of the noise. Peering around the corner, you spotted a group of wolves gathered near a reinforced door. Isaac had to be in there.

The soldiers were arguing, their attention divided. You saw your chance and took it, slipping into a side room while they weren’t looking. Through a crack in the wall, you saw the soldiers barking orders and scanning the area. There were too many to take head-on, especially without Ellie by your side.

Your grip tightened on your weapon as you weighed your options. You couldn’t afford to wait, not with Isaac so close. You had to be smart. Quick. Ruthless. You kissed the cross that rested on your neck, and taking profit of two soldiers going after scars, you entered the room where Isaac was. Shooting a wolf that was with him in the head made him turn to you with fear in his eyes. He tried to grab his pistol, but you shot him in his hand, blood everywhere. The blast was heard outside, but the door was secured. There was no way to enter.

"You…" Isaac breathed. "You were supposed to be dead." Instead of answering him, you tied him to a chair as he whispered pleads. Empty promises about everything you may yearn for, money, food, weapons, everything.

You didn't care about all of that. You were too busy sharpening your machete to hear him. When Isaac saw how his words weren't being heard by you, he tried to threaten you, making you laugh. You grabbed roughly his chin, and you could feel him shiver beneath your touch. "You should've killed me when you had the chance"

Your lips got closer to his ear. "I am going… to eat your heart raw… and then I'll hang you in front of your people to show them how weak their leader is"

He started crying, still begging for forgiveness, and started blaming your mother, how she got what she deserved. You slapped him. "You didn't even kill her yourself, you pussy. You sent soldiers to do it" The first stab was in his leg. You pouted at his pained expression. "Poor Isaac, not being capable to do things himself and making other people do the dirty work"

Every second that passed, it seemed the door would break. You knelt in front of him, forcing him to look at you. "I would love to stay here and make you suffer, but I don't have enough time" You stabbed him again, this time in his chest. "May she guide you through the storm, motherfucker."

Ellie didn’t know what to do . She knew she couldn't hide inside that closet forever, that they would find her eventually. She just hoped they would find her before they found you. It wasn't until she heard a scar warn his partner about what was going on the top floor. Wolves trying to enter a room where their leader was, where they heard gunshots. It had to be you.

And if Ellie could do something - anything - to help you, she would do it without hesitation. So she came out of her hideout and shot one of them in his head. The woman, rising her bow, started alerting the others, whistling heavily so she could be heard.

"Shit shit shit shit" was what Ellie kept repeating, running from them. She got out of the building, but one was lucky and aimed right, and his arrow was shot in her leg, making her lose the balance and falling, one of them grabbed her shirt, and he pressed her body into the wall. Ellie remembers thinking about you, if you were alright, safe and sound. But her question answered itself when she heard a whistle. The scar's whistle, your whistle.

Taking aback, you raised your bow and shot him in the head, letting Ellie breathe again. You got closer to her, and the redhead could see your beautiful dress, now covered in damp blood. When you saw her scared look, you were fast to respond, "Don't worry, it's not mine" Ellie put her head close to your chest, still breathing fast.

Your name was heard behind you, and you felt completely paralyzed. "Stand up"

You did as you were told, slowly, and turning back, now facing Emily, who had aiming her shotgun right between your eyes. Ellie grabbed hers as well, taking profit of the woman's surprise.

"What are you doing out here?" Emily sounded almost angry, gripping her weapon. "What happened to you?"

You didn't answer, because you truly didn't know. The woman's braids looked between Ellie and you, shaking with rage. "Remember your sins" She mumbled, "You can still be forgiven for them if you act rightly." the scars on your back felt fresh again. You didn't want more, and you certainly didn't want to go back, now you were sure of it

"I remember them, and now I embrace them"

Emily looked like she would throw up, narrowed eyes looking at you with disbelief. "You are a sinner, just like them!" She shouted, pointing at Ellie now. "I am a sinner, but that isn't new, is it?" You mimicked her disgusted expression, getting closer to her. Emily aimed at you again, but you could almost feel her pulse rushing.

"Think about what your mother would say" She breathed.

"But she isn't here, right?" You jumped at her, moving her weapon and throwing her against the wall. You strangled Emily, angry at her, angry at yourself. She stopped breathing, but you still grabbed her neck. Ellie tried to talk you out, but you were fiercely pierced into Emily's body. It were the shouts of more seraphites coming what took you off. You stood up, and grabbed Ellie's hand, following her.

None of you talked about what happened until you reached a cabin far from there. The night creeped in, and with the help of the lake near you, you cleaned your dress, leaving you with your underwear.

Ellie could feel how lost you were, fingers shivering, not looking at her in the eye. She tried to talk to you, to tell you how she understood your feelings, and she had so many questions, but she didn't have the guts to tell you, at least now.

When you came back, you breathed in, and sat down by Ellie's side, resting your head in her shoulder. You were still shivering, even with the redhead's jacket. Ellie could've sworn her heart stopped when you got closer to her - if that was even possible - and could feel your breaths in her neck.

"What, what meant that woman about... about your sins?" She dared to ask, still nervous from your touch. You stayed a few minutes in silence, trying to find the right words to say.

"There is... a lot you don't know about me, Els. I didn't follow our traditions, I followed my heart." Your voice was filled with frustration.

"You know you can tell me, right?" Ellie whispered, kissing the top of your head. That action alone made you almost cry. This was wrong. But then you remembered Natalie's words, This isn't bad. We love each other. What's wrong with that?

"I... I fell in love with someone"

Ellie fell silent, brows furrowed. Before she could think about how that was wrong, but you anticipated her questions.

"I fell in love with a girl" You said, voice trembling. But when Ellie looked at you, she didn't seem repulsed by it, only a look of confusion was plastered in her beautiful green eyes. She gave you a soft grip on the hip, encouraging to continue. "Her name was Natalie. She showed me what love truly meant, even if at that time I didn-t see it that way"

"She was killed by her sins, because they found out we loved each other."

Ellie mourned a girl she never met, because she could feel every emotion that ran through your body. She still didn't say a word, only her eyes spoke a sincerity you never perceived before.

"I'm sorry" She said, minutes after. She dried your tears and kissed the crown of your hair again. Your eyes shifterd between her eyes and her lips. She looked so... ethereal. So pure, so humanly perfect. You wanted to kiss her. But that thought alone made your skin start to burn. Why did your skin start to burn?

When Ellie saw how you started to get spiraled on your head over and over again, she did what she should've had done days before. She grabbed your chin with her usual soft touch, and connected her lips with yours.

Your skin stopped burning, and your head stopped spiraling then. Closing your eyes, you kissed her back.

taglist!

@vahnilla @antobooh @liasxeatt @rhyrhy @autisticintr0vert @culuvr @sevyscoven

[saioratral]

PARING: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

PROMPT: love can change SYNOPSIS: can you ever imagine a man like him.. in love?

WARNING: none NOTE: i saw sajal ali's photoshoot and i just had to write. literally got out of my writing block all because of a photo?? and who else to think of but sukuna cause hear me out.. also recommend hearing janam janam cause i was listening to that while writing

in sukuna’s eyes, you were no one special. just another girl- another offering from a village too afraid to stand up to him, hoping that you might spare them from his wrath. it was a simple transaction: you, a fragile human, given to the king of curses as an escape. so why is he getting so flustered seeing you in your wedding dress?

the blood red fabric adorned with golden embroidery was made by the finest silk to elevate your look as if you were the entire world’s beauty. he could hardly tear his eyes away from the sight of you, sitting quietly next to him. he had expected fear but not this… this feeling that pulled at something deep inside of him

your face, however, was veiled, a delicate red dupatta covering your features, hiding your eyes from his. still, even with the fabric between you, he couldn’t look away. the gold embroidery caught sukuna's attention with its soft, delicate beauty. it wasn’t just the dress, though. it was everything about you. the way you carried yourself, the way you sat with a quiet grace beside him, imagine a calm cat and a dangerous dog beside each other

you were so much more than he had ever expected, and yet, why? why did his chest tighten when he caught the smile of your lips, the way you carefully signed your name on the marriage papers, your handwriting neat and delicate, as though each letter was a piece of art? 

sukuna frowned, pushing the strange flutter in his chest away

what was happening to him?

you weren’t special, not in the way he needed. you were just a pawn. someone to carry out the ritual yet, when your shaky hands passed him the pen, your trembling touch brushing against his cold fingers, something in him snapped. he could feel the warmth of your skin against his- a jolt coursing through his body. a soft laugh followed from you, sweet and melodic. it was the first time he’d heard you and it sounded like music

“are you nervous?” sukuna’s curious voice made you turn your head a little to hear him better

you whispered back to him, making his heart skip a beat. “just a little”

saying your simple vows, he slowly lifts the red cloth, his fingers hesitated as he gently brushes the fabric away from your face. the moment it settled on your head, his breath caught in his chest

there you were. how could someone like you even exist before his very own eyes? to call you his, to claim you as his own, was as if he had conquered every battle, won every war, and still stood victorious, not because of his power, but because of you

the simple act of you feeding him sweets, turned into something far more meaningful. his eyes watched the delicate henna patterns that adorned your hands, reaching all the way up to your elbows. the designs were a testament to the time, the effort, and the love poured into them. the realization hit him, pulling him under with a force he couldn’t resist. perhaps he had been wrong about you. perhaps you were more than just a village offering, more than just another woman. maybe…

maybe he had found something he never knew he needed

as the years passed, sukuna remained beside you. the king of curses was no longer a title he wore. the man who had struck fear into the hearts of villages, who had ruled with an iron fist, slowly faded. he had cast aside the darkness that once defined him. no longer did he crave the chaos of battle, the thrill of bloodshed. instead, he found peace in the quiet moments spent with you

the human aging was catching up, leaving their marks on both of you, but your beauty had only deepened with time. he noticed the silver threads that had begun to grow through your hair, the soft lines that had appeared around your eyes, and yet, to him, you were as breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on you

“you still look at me like that,” your voice filled with warmth. “like i’m the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen”

sukuna chuckled softly 

“i’ll keep looking at you like this for as long as i breathe”

@saioratral .ᐟ do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission

[little-diable]

Fate's Call - Jake Seresin (smut)

This is very much inspired by something I wanted to happen in my own life lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Jake and the reader have been into one another for a while now but life always pushed them away from one another. But he's growing tired of not finally grasping his chance with her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f & m), piv, some degrading, quite sweet though, crushes to lovers

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader (2.9k words)

She had hoped that the music filling the car would manage to distract her. She had hoped that the scenery she drove past would manage to rip her thoughts away from him. She had hoped that the excitement the next day would bring upon her would bury the feeling of having him close six feet under. But nothing helped, nothing managed to soothe the sinking feeling deep inside of her. 

(Y/n) had met Jake Seresin months ago, crossing paths while he had been on a getaway with friends and she had been on a work trip. They had instantly hit it off, connecting on different levels while time had frozen for a while, allowing the two to get lost in their conversation. Nothing had happened back then, held back by the eventual disappointment she’d feel the second they’d have to part ways the following morning.

Now, months later, their paths had crossed again to grab food while she was in the area for the day, instantly forcing all those feelings to resurface. He was everything she ached for, one of the few she didn’t seem to grow tired of, and yet life had a funny way of keeping them from one another, only offering glimpses of what something more meaningful between them could look like. 

Jake had held her tight, hugging her for a few seconds too long, and yet (y/n) had tried to bury herself in his touch, knowing that she needed to soak up every second. She hadn’t been able to rip her eyes from him, hanging onto every word he spoke to try and memorise every single detail he shared with her. (Y/n) was long gone, there was no way out of the trap he had laid out for her months ago, unable to crawl from the grave she was now buried in - no matter how hard she tried to claw at the dark soil. 

“Fuck, get a grip.” Her whispers filled the car, momentarily ripping her out of her thoughts. She’d give a lot to see him again, imagining Jake following her to her next destination, set on spending the night with her. Nothing but wishful thinking that left her heart bleeding in ache, wondering if she’d be able to shake this off eventually. 

(Y/n)’s eyes flickered down to her phone, fingertips tingling from the need to call him, wanting to hear that southern drawl again she found herself obsessing over. But even though her longing for Jake was strong, the need to protect her heart was stronger, knowing that reaching out would only hurt her some more. 

With a sigh leaving her, (y/n) sank further into the seat. It was for the better this way, even though it didn’t feel like it. 

…

Her tired eyes kept wandering over the page of her book, rereading the words for the fifth time that evening. She had arrived at her hotel a few hours ago, hiding in the shower to wash away the day and the memories that came with it. (Y/n) let her head fall back against the pillow, dropping the book before she curled herself into the blanket. 

It was pathetic almost, unable to understand how a man could have an effect like this on her, unable to think of anything but him. She pressed her hands against her face with a groan, cursing herself for being this weak and confused. But just as (y/n) shuffled around on the bed, reaching for the lightswitch, the sound of a few soft knocks left her freezing. It took her a moment to rise to her feet, walking towards the door to slowly open it. 

“Jake?” He had his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, bright eyes focused on her confused features. For a second neither of them spoke, a second that was interrupted as he shot forward with his cold fingers finding her warm cheeks, lips meeting hers for a bruising kiss. (Y/n)’s hands found his jacket, burying her fingers in the soft material to keep him close. 

“I couldn’t stay away, I needed to see you again.” Jake mumbled against her lips as he softly pushed her into the room, letting the door fall shut with a soft thud. (Y/n) stared up at him with wide pupils, unable to bite down her grin before she tugged his jacket off his body, trying not to get lost in the sight of him and the addicting scent of his cologne softy wrapping itself around her. 

Jake’s hands found the back of her naked thighs, effortlessly picking her up to carry her to the bed, pressing (y/n) down on it. The tension between them prickled, buzzing through their veins like a wildfire set to spread, burning them from inside out. There were too many confessions burning on the tip of her tongue, but (y/n) was unable to express any of them as she was too focused on the way his lips found hers again. He tasted of something familiar, something that made her heart skip beats as she got lost in the feeling. 

He pressed his hips against hers, allowing her to feel his growing need for her which drew a groan out of them both. (Y/n) gave him a soft push, burying Jake beneath her to straddle his waist with a smirk growing on her lips. Their eyes held contact as she pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his muscular upper body to her wandering hands. Without breaking eye contact, she kissed her way past his dog tags, down his chest, and to his abs, letting her tongue trace the prominent lines. 

“Baby,” it was a clear warning, expressing that he was close to snapping and unable to hold himself back from what he wanted to do to her. “Careful there, I need you to be sure of this before you go any further.”

“I want you, Jake, have been wanting you ever since we met.” It was all he needed to hear before his veiny hand found the back of her head, pulling her back in for a kiss. Her hands moved further down south, undoing his belt before she impatiently tugged on his belt loops. “Can I? I’ve imagined doing this for a while now.”

He was unable to stop a gritty laugh from leaving him, gently pushing (y/n) away to shuffle out of his clothes. Her eyes moved down his naked upper body, focusing on his wandering hands and how he slowly, almost teasingly, exposed his hardening cock to her lust-blown pupils. She crawled to the edge of the bed, sitting back down on her heels before she reached for him. 

(Y/n) spat down on his tip, spreading her saliva with her fingers while he choked on a moan. Her eyes kept studying his handsome face, enjoying the clear pleasure tugging on his expression, knowing that she was the one to make him feel like that. She took her time exploring, tongue tracing the prominent vein gracing his cock before she let her tongue circle his tip, tasting the precum pearling on his soft skin. 

“Christ, you look so pretty.” His praise left her grinning, batting her lashes at him as she took her time with him. Her need for him only grew stronger with every deep exhale he let go of, knowing that she’d struggle just as much the second he’d bury his head between her thighs. 

Jake’s hand kept a possessive hold on the back of her head, keeping her close while getting lost in the new sensation. He wasn’t a stranger to this situation, had lost count on the amount of women that had sucked him off, and yet this felt all too new - almost as if he had never experienced it before.

“Jake,” she mumbled his name while her hand pumped him, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

He froze for a second, staring down at her to see if she truly meant what she had just mumbled. But (y/n) didn’t speak another word, clearly waiting for him to reply. With a nod thrown her way, Jake cleared his throat before speaking up, “Lay down on your back, baby.”

She instantly followed his command, plopping down on the mattress, head hanging off the bed. (Y/n) stared up at him, parting her lips the second he tapped the tip of his cock against her lips. With a deep breath sucked into her lungs, she allowed him to slowly disappear down her throat, gagging around him. But Jake didn’t pull away, he stayed buried inside of her for a few more seconds before he began to fuck her mouth, just like she had asked him to. 

“Fuck, you cock-hungry slut, look at you.” It was a pornographic view, a sight Jake was close to taking a picture of to remember this moment forever. She only hummed around his cock while pressing her thighs together, hoping to soothe the ache stretching through her. Jake picked up the speed of his thrusts, forcing her to gag whenever he sank too deep, but (y/n) didn’t protest once as if she knew no boundaries when it came to pleasuring him. 

(Y/n) was torn between too many sensations, the sounds he made for her, the feeling of him resting on her tongue, the way her arousal kept soaking her panties. It felt like a dream, finally getting what she had been desperate for ever since her eyes had met his for the first time. But even though her mind was close to spiralling, already fearing what would happen when morning came, she tried to focus on Jake and the pleasure both got from him fucking her mouth. 

“Oh, you poor girl, I bet your pussy is begging for my touch, huh?” Another sound left (y/n), turning into a whine as he pulled away from her. Her chest was heavily rising and falling, clinging onto any air she tried to inhale. “Head on the pillow, I need to see if you taste as sweet as I think you do.” 

She struggled to move, clumsily turning back around before trying to make herself comfortable on the mattress. Jake found his way back between her thighs, pulling her shirt over her head before her panties were pulled down her legs. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked body made her chuckle, high on the confidence his gaze alone made her feel. But before she allowed him to explore her body, she pulled him back in for a kiss, tongues getting tangled as the kiss grew more desperate. 

He parted from her with a heavy exhale, lips kissing her stomach before wandering down to her heat, brushing his tongue through her slit to taste her. Both moaned in unison, Jake from her taste and (y/n) from the way his skilled tongue made her feel. One of his hands found their way up her body, grasping her breast to knead her flesh while he buried his face in her cunt. 

Jake lapped at her folds, picking up on the way she was dripping for him from sucking him off earlier, clearly just as done for as he was. His fingers took care of her pulsing bundle, using just enough pressure to make her arch her back, hips pushing her closer to him. He made a silent promise to eat her out all through the night, after fucking her into oblivion just like both had imagined doing for a while now. 

“Jake,” his name was whispered into the dimly lit room, echoing off the walls as if a silent omen had been spoken. Both were about to form a bond so strong, neither of them would be able to break from it any time soon. “Need your fingers.” 

He smirked against her warm skin, eyes flickering up to her features as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. Without needing any guidance from her, he found her swollen spot, fingers curled against it to draw another whine from her. (Y/n) had her eyes closed, solemnly focused on Jake and the feeling of her body being tossed into soaring waves of arousal, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for her to cum. 

With his lips sucking on her bundle and his fingers fucking her with just enough speed to make her tremble beneath him, (y/n) could only thank her lucky stars for pushing her towards Jake. But just as her thighs began to shake, about to fall into her orgasm, he pulled away with an all too satisfied grin. 

“Don’t look at me like that, baby,” his hand found her chin, forcing her to keep looking at him with teary eyes. “You didn’t think I’d let you cum for the first time on anything but on my cock, did you?”

She didn’t reply, could only push her lips against his to taste herself on his tongue. Jake kept kissing her for a few moments, supporting his weight with his hands pressed to the mattress before he parted from her. (Y/n) watched him for a second, pondering over her choices before speaking up, “I’m on the pill. I want to feel you, Jake.” 

He stared at her for a second, unable to stop his groan from leaving him. Jake wasn’t one for fucking bare, but with her he’d do it all, needing to feel her without anything between them. Slowly, he found his way back to her to brush his cock through her slit before he finally pushed into her. 

“Oh, fuck,” (y/n) choked on the words, eyes rolling back into her head at the intense feeling. Jake perfectly stretched her, making her walls flutter around his cock as she desperately tried to adjust. He had felt big stuffed down her throat but now she felt fuller than ever before, struggling to take all of him. 

"C'mon, baby, you did so well sucking my cock, don’t tell me you’re struggling now.” His words dripped with something condescending, forcing a whine from her as she tried to breathe through the intense sensation. Jake gave it another push, finally burying all of him inside of her with a heavy groan while he pressed his forehead against hers. “Atta girl, see, I knew your pussy was greedy for my cock.”

He slowly pulled out of her, only to push back in with more force, building a rhythm that had her trembling within seconds. She wanted to freeze the moment, desperate to relish in every second offered to her. But the way Jake’s thrusts seemed to grow even deeper stole all those thoughts right from her. 

“Oh, Jake,” he hummed, sucking on her neck to shoot some more shudders down her back. (Y/n)’s fingernails scratched at his muscular shoulders, trying to stop the intense sensation from drowning her too soon. Her mind began to focus on the sounds leaving him, on the feeling of their skin meeting with every thrust. Jake looked at her with something almost sweet swimming in his pupils, seemingly caught up in his spiralling thoughts. 

“I know, baby. I got you.” His dog tags met his naked chest with every thrust, like a pendulum foretelling their future. She could only pray that life meant it well with them, hoping that this wouldn’t be the only time they’d find back together. 

(Y/n) loved the way he felt on top of her, chest pressed to hers while they got lost in their longings. He managed to hit the right spot with every thrust, drawing groans out of them both in unison whenever her walls clenched around his cock. Sounds so sinful left the both, she could only hope nobody nearby managed to pick up on them.

“‘M close, Jake.” She sneaked one hand between their bodies, rubbing her bundle to give her the needed push. A string of fucks left her as she came with Jake following her right down the edge, imprinting himself on her walls. She felt him twitch inside of her, ripping a moan out of them before he slowly pulled out of her. 

“Lick yourself off of me, baby.”(Y/n) tried to ignore the heat crawling up her spine, staring up at Jake for a second before she began to shuffle around. Her eyes flickered back up to his bright pupils before she parted her lips to house him back inside her mouth. 

She sucked him clean, tasting herself on his cock with a moan clawing through her. Jake pulled her off his cock with a harsh tug seconds later, lips finding hers for one last messy kiss before he pulled her into his chest. 

“I hope you’re not tired yet, I want to make the most out of this night.” He mumbled into the room, hand tightening its hold on her as she chuckled, only able to nod her head while she gave in to another wave of excitement already stretching itself through her.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Notes- Hacking up a Lung Anemo Boys

Return to File

Recovery date: January 27th, 2025

Description: Anemo boys (+ Aether) with an fem reader. When Reader was yelling at someone until she coughs, Chronic stress can affect the vagus nerve — a major nerve that runs from the brain stem to several organs, including the lungs. Some researchers suggest this might be the cause of some unexplained coughing. How would they deal with that situation?

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. Fun science facts for the win, I did not fact check this (though it sounds right) or my writing. So, this isn't medical advice and might be inaccurate. Also, reader's gender isn't mentioned, but i did tag it as female reader because that's what the request asked for.

Back to directory

Xiao

At first he thinks it’s because you’ve spent so much time with him

He rushes you to dr. Baizhu and is reassured it’s not his fault

But… he still blames himself and starts to stay at a distance

Doesn’t want to completely leave you though, so he leaves letters around and plays for your lunch and watches you from a distance

Eventually you have to corner him and assure him you’re fine

Maybe tell him he’s stressing you out more? You know, if he really wants to help you he should stay around

Venti

That was weird, you should go see Barbara

Oh, it’s caused by stress? Guess he’s taking you on a vacation

If you don’t want to travel, that’s fine, he’ll just take you camping

Somewhere with fresh air and a gentle breeze, not near the frigid dragon spine, maybe somewhere near the waterfront

If you do travel he’ll take you somewhere that won’t affect your lungs, so nowhere high up, maybe Sumeru since there’s so much fresh air

Kazuha

He’s already concerned that you’re yelling at someone, are you okay? What happened?

And then you start coughing and he’s by your side and whisking you away

Helps you catch your breath and then take you to see Kokomi, or Baizhu if you’re in Liyue

Once he finds out it’s caused by stress, he asks if you want to settle down

He’d been considering it, but this was a tipping point because traveling as frequently as you did could be stressful

Plus being stuck on the Crux, and sea water was so salty that maybe the air was too dry?

Even if you don’t settle down, he tries to spread out your travels more

Heizou

Mr. detective has a whole collection of eclectic knowledge stored in his head

And he knows about your chronic stress

So you start coughing mid argument and he’s like, aw damn, guess we’re taking a break

He likes cases, but your well being comes first so he takes some of his vacation time

Places a hand on your back during your coughing fit, just to comfort you

You spend a nice few days together and he doesn’t let you lift a finger, consider this him making up for always being busy

Wanderer

He thinks your argument with this nobody is funny, and he refuses to admit he’s worried when you start coughing

His first thought is an illness like the one furnace workers often experienced, but that didn’t make sense

Takes you to Avidya forest to see Tighnari who tells you to rest

Wanderer feels better knowing it’s nothing too serious, look chronic stress is manageable in his opinion

Tries to be nicer to you, because he’ll be damned if he starts stressing you out, and asks Nahida for advice

Makes you join him for his tree naps, the fresh air is good for you

Aether

You start coughing and he thinks of a million things it could be, delusion? Abyssal energy? Seriously, he’s seen so much

Takes you to the nearest doctor and finds out it’s stress related, and somehow that’s worse than everything else

Because… it’s his fault

You’re joining him on his journey, you’ve been through so much with him and because of him

And the worst part? He can’t wait for you to recover, and he’ll be damned if he lets you push yourself

You have to part ways for now, but once you recover to a manageable degree he’ll come back for you

[httpvomitello]

hii, would you write a Fred Weasley one were they have been friends for a really long time but are too afraid to confess and when someone else flirts with her Fred gets a bit jealous so he decides that it is time to confess?

Hello, hello! Hope you like it ~ ♡

My First Love *⁠.⁠✧

fred weasley x f!reader

Summary: You and Fred Weasley have been best friends for years, but the unspoken feelings between you both have always been left unsaid. When someone else shows interest in you, Fred realizes he can’t hide his feelings anymore.

You sat on the worn-out couch near the fireplace, your Transfiguration textbook on your lap, but your attention far from the words on the page. Fred Weasley was sprawled on the armchair beside you, tossing a small ball into the air and catching it lazily. It was a scene that had played out countless times over the years, the two of you sharing an easy comfort that only years of friendship could bring.

But lately, something had shifted. At least for you.

You had been best friends with Fred since your first year, and over time, the playful banter and late-night conversations had started to mean something more. You’d catch yourself staring at him a little too long, your heart fluttering whenever he grinned in your direction. But the thought of risking your friendship terrified you, so you kept your feelings to yourself.

Fred wasn’t much better. He’d always been protective of you, but lately, he’d noticed how his stomach twisted when someone else made you laugh, or how he’d find excuses to be near you even when he didn’t have to be. He told himself it was just friendship, but deep down, he knew better. He was head over heels for you.

The weekend came, and with it, a lively atmosphere in the quidditch area. You were sitting on the floor, laughing at something Jordan had said. Fred had been watching from afar, his lips quirking into a smile at the sound of your laughter. But his smile quickly faded when he noticed a Hufflepuff boy—Jason, he thought his name was—walk over and sit beside you.

Jason leaned in close, clearly trying to flirt, and Fred felt his chest tighten. He wasn’t sure what Jason was saying, but whatever it was, it made you laugh. Fred’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening around the broom he was holding.

“Looks like someone’s jealous,” George said, nudging Fred with a smirk.

Fred scowled. “I’m not jealous,” he muttered, but his eyes never left you and Jason.

“Sure you’re not,” George teased. “You might want to do something about it before someone else does, mate.”

Fred didn’t respond, but George’s words stuck in his head.

Later that evening, the common room had emptied out, leaving only a few stragglers. You were still sitting on the couch, flipping through a book, when Fred plopped down beside you.

“Hey,” he said casually, but you could hear the edge in his voice.

“Hey, Fred,” you replied, glancing up at him with a smile.

He hesitated, his fingers drumming against his knee. “So… you and Jason seemed pretty friendly earlier.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the comment. “We were just talking. Why?”

Fred shrugged, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “Just curious,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Fred, is something bothering you?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t planned on doing this tonight, but the thought of someone else stealing your attention—stealing you—was too much.

“Look,” he began, his voice lower now, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while. I just… I’ve been a bit of a coward about it.”

You frowned, setting your book aside. “Fred, what’s going on?”

He turned to face you fully, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “I like you, Y/N,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Not just as a friend. I mean, I like you more than that. I’ve liked you for ages, but I didn’t want to ruin what we have. And then tonight, seeing Jason talk to you, it just… I couldn’t take it.”

Your heart stopped, his words sinking in slowly. “Fred…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same way,” he continued quickly, his voice tinged with nervousness. “I just needed you to know because I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You stared at him for a moment, your mind racing. Then, without thinking, you reached out and took his hand. “Fred,” you said softly, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

His eyes widened. “You have?”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “I’ve liked you for ages too, but I was scared to say anything. I didn’t want to lose you.”

A grin spread across his face, the tension in his shoulders melting away. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he said, his voice lighter now.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “So… what now?”

Fred’s grin turned mischievous. “Now, I think I owe you a proper date. How about Hogsmeade next weekend?”

You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness. “I’d like that.”

[mrsjellymunson]

Something Old, Something New

Written for the @steddiemicrofic January challenge prompt ‘new’ || WC target: 517 || Rating: M || CW: very brief and vague allusion to sex, self-doubt, sentiment, fluff || Tags: nervous!Eddie Munson, background Steve Harrington, Wayne Munson, very background Al Munson

OLD

Eddie reaches into the collar of his shirt and runs his fingertips along the tarnished chain. It’s his old guitar pick necklace, the one he was wearing the day they met. He remembers how Steve asked about it, nervously. How he fiddled with it when they first spent time alone. How it swung over his face and chest when they finally—

“How are you doing? Really?”

Eddie looks away from the hotel mirror to regard his uncle. He tries to sound confident, but his voice cracks a little.

“I’m fine, honestly. You’re here, my friends are all here. It doesn’t get much better than that, right?”

NEW

“You look good, son.”

Eddie turns.

“Thanks, Wayne. But honestly, I think this suit is doing most of the work.”

He fusses in front of the mirror again, smoothing the black fabric and adjusting his tie for the dozenth time.

“Steve insisted I go to the same tailor he used, but also get something that was really me. I dunno though, I feel like a penguin.”

Wayne tries to quash Eddie’s self-doubt, which is clearly about more than the suit.

“Listen, I know you’re not used to someone taking care of you like this. But he’s good for you. He’s helping you to see your worth. And you’re good for him too. You keep him grounded, and will always remind him of how much he’s loved.”

Eddie gives him a thin-lipped smile.

BORROWED

Wayne clears his throat as he reaches inside his jacket. Pulling out a worn velvet box, he murmurs,

“I wanted you to have this, for today.”

Eddie takes it, a confused look on his face. He’s seen it at the back of Wayne’s closet, but never asked what it was.

He lifts the lid to reveal a watch, clearly antique. Gold or brass, he neither knows nor cares; it’s beautiful.

“It was your grandfathers. I managed to hide it, keep it from, well, you know…”

Eddie frowns and nods. Had his father known about this he would’ve pawned it without a moment’s thought.

Eddie places it on his wrist as his uncle fastens the clasp.

“I got the strap altered for ya. Had to measure one of those darned leather bracelets one day when you were in the shower. I felt like a goddamned secret agent’r somethin’.”

Eddie snorts as his uncle shakes his head.

He regards himself in the mirror again. The suit, the watch. He stands a little taller, a little straighter. Maybe Wayne’s right? He can do this. He deserves this.

BLUE

He glances out the window to where Steve’s baby-blue pick-up truck sits gleaming in the parking lot.

The Party’s decorated it with white satin ribbons, soda cans on string, and ‘Just Wed’ on the rear window in chalk marker. Eddie makes out geometric shapes, and wonders who suggested drawing D&D dice instead of hearts.

Wayne checks in one more time.

”You sure you’re okay, son?”

Eddie looks at his uncle and nods assertively, smiling.

“Definitely. It’s a new beginning. I’m marrying the love of my life, and I couldn’t be happier.”

A/N: You could take this literally, where the Something Old is Eddie’s necklace and/or the heirloom watch, and the Something New is his new suit and/or Steve’s pick-up. Or, you might prefer that Something Old is Eddie’s lingering self-doubt, and Something New is his burgeoning self-confidence and self-worth, or their new beginning, as they step into their new life together. Or you might pick both, or something different, it's entirely up to you.

A/N2: I initially wrote this to imply Eddie was getting ready to read the eulogy at Steve’s funeral, only to pull an abrupt switcheroo near the end. But quite frankly I couldn’t bring myself to write anything sad right now, even if it did end happily, as I think we all need cheering up given current world events.

And in case anyone’s interested, here’s the meaning behind the old rhyme:

“The Old English [Victorian era] rhyme is all about good luck charms, "Something Olde (symbolizes continuity), Something New (offers optimism for the future), Something Borrowed (represents borrowed happiness), Something Blue (purity, love and fidelity), and a Sixpence (maybe a 5 cent piece) in your Shoe (prosperity).”

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