#my eyes are rolling out of my head as we speak

[woso-dreamzzz]

Tattoos: Christmas

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Baby!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Teeny

The babbling on the baby monitor is what wakes Ingrid.

It's still dark out, no source of light spilling out through the gap in the curtains and there's a slight chill in the air that tells her the heating hasn't come on just yet.

But none of that is what wakes her, safe and wrapped up in a warm cocoon of blankets and head resting comfortably on her pillow.

It's the babbling on the baby monitor on the bedside table that does that.

The only thing that can draw Ingrid out of her slumber before her natural body clock does.

It's so strange that something can do that now, that just the barest hint of babbling on the monitor reaches Ingrid at her most relaxed moments, that just the barest hint of you being up and awake means Ingrid will be too.

A small smile appears on her face, blinking awake fully and now actually understanding what's going on in your bedroom.

You're definitely the one babbling, the one making all sorts of soft, content little noises like your lips smacking together and your little high pitched giggles.

But there's another presence in your room too.

Another voice.

"Shhh, little one," Mapi says, her voice slightly distorted over the monitor," We don't want to wake up your Mumma before her surprise is ready."

Your babbling, however, gets a bit louder and Ingrid hears Mapi laugh.

"Yes, look at how cute you are! Let's get this little hood flipped up and then we'll go and surprise your Mumma."

Ingrid smiles softly at the words, closing her eyes when she hears your door click shut. She snuggles into the blankets and gives the image of sleeping peacefully when the bedroom door opens.

"Alright," She hears Mapi whisper to you," I'm going to put you down and you're going to show off your skills and crawl to Mumma, alright?"

Ingrid knows Mapi's words aren't really for your own benefit, not with you still being a little baby, but still, it's nice to hear Mapi speaking to you like you can understand her.

"Ready? Let's go, teeny!"

A small weight is placed at the foot of the bed, Ingrid can feel it on her legs, and then the movement begins.

You're gotten quite strong at your crawling, picking up speeds that are kind of amazing to watch when Ingrid can remember when you used to not be able to move by yourself at all.

Ingrid doesn't let you get too far, maybe to around her hips before she's sitting up and pulling you into her arms.

You giggle at the shock of it, little feet kicking out happily when she litters your cheeks with kisses.

"This is new," Ingrid says, fingers brushing over the fuzzy brown onesie that you're wearing.

"She's Rudolph!" Mapi replies excitedly," I saw it in a shop window last night and thought she'd look so cute! The nose squeaks!"

Experimentally, Ingrid squeezes the little red nose on the hood of your new outfit and, true to Mapi's words, it squeaks.

"You're so sweet, Mapi."

Ingrid guides you into the crook of one of her arms before extending the other one out for Mapi to tuck herself into.

"Merry Christmas," She says, pressing a kiss first to your head and then to Mapi's lips," This was a wonderful surprise. My own little Rudolph."

"I tried to get Bagheera in her matching jumper but she wasn't having it. I'll get her though, at some point."

"I'm fine with just one little Rudolph today," Ingrid assures her," Don't get all scratched up trying to force it."

Mapi chuckles, leaning more fully into Ingrid's arms as you suckle insistently on Ingrid's collarbone and reach out to pull and yank on Mapi's fingers, seeming intently focused on the tattoos.

"Too early to properly get up?" Mapi probes with a grin and Ingrid rolls her eyes.

"The sun's not even up yet," Ingrid replies with her own smile," You're not still tired?"

"Not even a little bit."

"And you think y/n's not tired either?"

Mapi raises a brow as she looks pointedly at you. She wiggles her fingers and you immediately stop sucking on Ingrid's collar to dive forward and try to capture her fingers in your mouth.

You're not quite successful but you put up a good fight, trying to clamber across Ingrid' body to grab at them.

"I think our little teeny is more than happy to be awake."

"Hmm," Ingrid says in thought," She'll crash before midday."

"I'll put her down for her nap."

"And if she's getting up in the evening?"

"I'll do the night shift."

Ingrid drags you back across her body and lifts you up easily as she gets out of bed.

"I'll get this one's bottle ready then. You can sort through the presents?"

"And get Bagheera in that jumper."

"Bag-Bag!" You babble happily and Mapi coos.

"See, Ingrid? She wants to see Bagheera in the jumper too!"

Mapi peels out of the room before Ingrid can respond and she sighs, shaking her head and lifting you up so you're dangling in her grip, little hand reaching out to try and grab her nose.

"You're both just so bad as each other," She laughs," Bagheera's going to need so many treats today after what you and Mapi put her through."

[clarkeyhill]

Sentimental | George Clarke

Fluff.

Christmas was a time in your life you dread to come around, your dysfunctional family made celebrating and being festive a chore ever since you all grew up. George knew how much Christmas time raised your anxiety levels and decided he'd do something to make you realise that, Christmas is still as magical as it was when you were a child.

Christmas Day was in full swing, the time was 8am, you roll over to face George, already laid smiling at you.

"Merry Christmas baby" he says with a soft smile

"Merry christmas my love" you say back planting a soft kiss on his lips

Without hesitation he wraps your body in his arms, engulfing you like a warm blanket. You snuggle for a few minutes as you decide to get up. You had stayed at George's family home for Christmas this year, you felt out of place but more sane that you would if you were at home right now.

You make your way down the stairs in your watching pjs as you're the first ones down.

"I feel like a little kid again" you smile, cheeks rosy from the excitement as you look at the presents scattered into piles with your stockings on top of them.

"You deserve it, I know Christmas is a touchy thing for you, we wanted to make it special" he smiles, snaking his hand around your waist.

You perch yourself on the sofa as George heads to go wake his sister and parents. You decide to motion yourself towards the kitchen and make everyone a brew, setting them up for the day ahead. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the window as you smile, a feeling of your warmth gushes over you. You finally felt like you belonged somewhere at this time of year, no pressure to stir conversation or keep a brave face.

You place at the drinks on a tray and slide them on the coffee table, you sit and wait. George had been gone a little while you thought, furrowing your brows. Just then he returns, as his smile broadens.

"Follow me" he holds out his hand

You take it, unsure of the reason but you trusted him.

"Trust me a second, I'm going to cover your eyes for this" he says with a soft tone, placing his hands over your eyes

You nod as you shuffle down the hallway, George directing you as you make your way to what seems like the back door. All of a sudden the patio door slides open, the cold December air wafts your face as you grab the door frame, lowering yourself down the step.

"George, what's going on?" You ask giggling

"You'll see, two seconds" he snickers, his tone giggly as if he couldn't contain the excitement about to burst through him.

"Okay, 3,2,1-"

He removes his hands as you blink, suddenly you see what looks like snow, falling from the sky.

"Snow?!" You say shocked

George giggles, you turn round to him to face him. A broad smile plastered on his face.

"I know this time of year takes a toll on you and I understand that. But I will do anything in my power to make sure that every Christmas you have is special and memorable, even if it means buying a thousand snow machines and hiring reindeers" he chuckles as he places a thumb over your cheek

Your eyes swell with tears threatening to drop, you speak no words, instead you crash into George's chest. Gripping him tightly as the tears fall, his hand rubs the back of your head as he rocks you to and fro.

"Thankyou George, I-i don't know what to say" you sniffle

"You're more than welcome beautiful, merry Christmas" he smiles as he looks down at you, planting a kiss on your forehead

"Merry Christmas baby" you reply back as you look in to his baby blue eyes.

-

🫶🏻

Merry Christmas guys!!! 🎀✨🩷

[azuredawn81]

lemon sorbet with jack <3

hating you for christmas | jack hughes x ex gf!reader

❅ summary: jack gets a christmas card from his ex. he can't get over her.

❅ pairing: jack hughes x reader

❅ content: angst

❅ word count: 1.2k

❅ prompt: hating you for christmas - everclear

❅ warnings: lots of alcohol, car accidents

❅ tags: @tomskookie @dream-girl06 @skepvids @devilinpradaheels @r0wdymaize86 @summert158 @lolatokki @camiesully

❅ note: i hate love and love hate

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙₊⋆ ͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

“jack! mail’s here,” luke called, slamming a stack of envelopes on the coffee table.

“thanks, rusty.”

“let’s see if there’s anything good.”

he started flipping through the pile. bill. bill. card from mom and dad. card from nico. card from fitzgerald. card from quinn. card from cole. card from trevor. card from keefe. junk mail about gutter cleaning.

“hey, this one’s from y/n.”

“gimme that.” jack snatched the envelope from luke, his eyes wide. he tore open the envelope, revealing a cute little christmas card, similar to the one from last year. the one he was on. he stared at the cardstock, with y/n’s smiling face and her stupid boyfriend. the back was just word after word about how her life was happy and perfect and her job was great and her house was grand and her boyfriend was specimen of a man.

the envelope was addressed to luke.

jack ripped the card in half, then in half again, and again, and again. “stupid y/n.”

────୨ৎ────

I don't want to hear about your new job now

“i just need to finish my business certification, then as soon as i get the money, i’m gonna open the flower shop.”

“gonna make the arrangements for our wedding?”

“of course, jacky,” she said, kissing his cheek. she slid onto his lap and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

I don't want to hear about your new boyfriend

“jack, it’s so beautiful.”

“of course, love. i wanted you to have the best ring.”

“i love you.”

“i love you too, mrs hughes.”

I don't want to hear about it all working out for you

“five more minutes.”

“babe, you have to go to morning skate.”

“but you’re so warm.”

she rolled over so she faced him. he pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. “you’re such a goof.”

No, I don't want to hear it now

jack hughes stuns with girlfriend at devil’s charity gala

devils forward spotted with girlfriend outside bar

jack hughes speaks: 4 nations face off, road to the cup, and his elusive lover

────୨ৎ────

I don't want to hear about your swinging new place

I don't want to hear how everyone thinks it's great

“we should get a house soon.”

“what’s wrong with the apartment?”

“we’re getting married, silly!” she booped his nose. “your mom’s gonna want grandbabies.”

I just want to sit in our apartment and hate you

jack sat on the couch, his head in his hands. y/n had been gone for a week now. he didn’t know how to tell his parents, how to ask luke to let him back in the apartment.

she was gone.

Yes, I will be hating you for Christmas

“you’re never around!”

“you knew that when we got together!”

“if you can't be present now, how can you be present as a dad?”

“i will try.”

“but you can’t try now?”

“i’m sorry.”

she placed her ring on the counter.

────୨ৎ────

You can have the Christmas tree

Remember when we bought it at the store down the street?

“i think that’s gonna be too tall, baby.”

“nah, it’ll work.”

“what if we get this pink one?”

“wait, that’s actually so cute.”

I don't want to think about the lights on your white skin

“thanks for bringing me here, jack. it’s beautiful.”

“you’re beautiful.”

he cupped her face and kissed her, the lights shining onto them. “my pretty girl.”

No, I don't want to think about it

“god, i love you so much.”

“i love you more.”

────୨ৎ────

I don't want to think about last year at your dad's

“jack, i just want to say, since y/n’s in the kitchen, i think you’re the best boyfriend she’s ever had.”

“about that…”

“what’s up, son?”

jack wiped away a tear as he opened the velvet box. “think she’ll like it?”

he was immediately engulfed in a bear hug by her dad. “you’re a good kid, jack.”

────୨ৎ────

I don't want to think about my face in your soft hair

I will be hating you for Christmas

as soon as jack opened the door and stepped inside, y/n was in his arms.

“missed you so much.”

“i missed you too, baby.”

“hate it when you leave.”

“aw, did my sweet girl miss me?”“your fiancé missed you quite a lot.”

────୨ৎ────

I must be losing my mind

“is there a y/n cloning facility nearby?” luke asked.

“no?” jack answered.

“then how come every girl you bring in looks like her?”

“that is not true.”

“last monday made a convincing twin.”

There's gotta be a better way to deal with the pain

“luke, i’m gonna hurt you if you keep talking.”

“dude, go to therapy or something.”

“i don’t need therapy.”

“right, because hooking up with girls who look like your ex is cheaper and easier.”

“i’m gonna get you scratched.”

“nico only listens to people of sound mind.”

There's gotta be a better way to deal with the hate

“you don’t even know what that means!”

“who here went to college?”

jack picked up the nearest object, a plastic cup, and threw it at luke, who ducked. the cup made a slight dent in the wall.

“now look what you did!”

“no, luke, it’s your fault. you poked the sleeping bear!”

“bears mate for life, jack.”

Wish that I could find some way to make you go away

“you’re on the devils, right?” the blonde said, holding onto his arm.

“god, you’re so hot.” brunette number one said.

the other brunette placed a sloppy drunk kiss on his cheek.

“you’re single, right?”

“no, i’ve got you three.”

“oh, you’re a fox, jack.”

“well, ladies, i try.”

Wish that I could have a drink and make you fade

he couldn’t even count the number of drinks he’d had or the number of girls on his arm. tonight, he was not jack hughes, y/n’s miserable ex. he was jack hughes, first overall pick, new jersey devils star forward and alternate captain. he was a hotshot, the big ticket item, the best looking guy at the club.

except with drink after drink, all he could think was how y/n was at her stupid apartment in the arms of her stupid boyfriend and not a single girl here tonight was her.

I wish that I could have myself a drink and make you fade

so he slammed another shot down. the girls cheered. another shot. another glass. another bar. another club. another bottle. another taxi. another shot.

“ladies,” he began, his speech so slurred and impaired, “tonight, we dance.”

I wish that I could have a drink and make you go away

“let’s go back to my place.”

────୨ৎ────

Wish that I could make you go away

five injured in hockey player’s car crash

jack hughes’ mugshot: click here!

devil’s forward jack hughes dui

jack hughes involved in collision - 6 girls in car

I will be hating you for Christmas

“hughes, those are all from different occasions!”

“i’m aware.”

“what the hell were you thinking?”

“i wasn’t, sir.”

“clearly! jack, if you keep this up, i will not hesitate to scratch you!”

Yeah I will be hating you for Christmas

“like i care!”

“you should.”

“nothing matters!”

────୨ৎ────

he got an envelope from his desk and scribbled her new address on the back. the stamp was placed in the corner with extreme precision. the shredded remains of the card were placed inside, like flowers in a vase, like a body in a coffin. then, a note reading

Thanks for the Christmas card

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Shooing skills

A/N: This was random! Hope you enjoy reading it :)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Wife! Reader

Warning: Jealous Tony = Hot Tony.

.

“I don’t know how you do it!”

“Huh? Do what?”

Tuning back into the conversation you were already done with, you tapped your shiny rock that sat on your ring finger against the glass of champagne you held, hoping the person opposite you would get the hint and leave you alone.

Apparently not.

Either he was too dumb to catch on or chose to ignore it completely and continue with his brazen flirting. The guy —whose name you hadn’t bothered to remember had cornered you, leaving you no room to escape, and you felt obliged to speak to him considering the donation he’d pledged.

“You’re literally an Avenger, and you’ve organised this event, plus I heard from someone that you paint too?” He went on, leaning closer in a way that bothered you.

“Umm. Yeah. Just a little..” You shrugged, eyes skimming across the room, looking for your man who was nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve got it all, Y/N. You’re truly an amazing woman.”

“Well, thanks. You’re kind.” You chuckled awkwardly, rubbing your bare shoulder which the man took as an opportunity to let his obviously lust-filled gaze roam all over your body.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you. Say you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

“Erm—”

“She is. Rather she was seeing me, for a year. Then I gave her that stunning rock which you haven’t noticed, and then she married me exactly thirteen months ago.”

Relief spread through your chest as a smile made its way to your lips, a firm tug pulled you closer against Tony Stark, your terribly handsome husband. The glare that guy was subjected to was much deserved as you watched him straighten up and clear his throat awkwardly.

“Oh! Tony, I—I mean Mr. Stark I had no idea—”

Tony dismissed him with a wave of his hand, using the other to bring your left hand up to his lips for a soft kiss.

“Don’t go bothering people’s wives now.” He called out, rolling his eyes as the fully grown adult of a businessman stumbled into a waiter before disappearing into the crowd.

“Nice shooing skills.” You straightening the bowtie he wore, smiling as Tony continued to eye the man who’d just hit on you.

“Thanks.”

“Though you made a mistake, dear husband.” You murmured, turning to him as he held onto your waist possessively.

“What?” For a flash second, Tony tensed up, unsure where you were going with this.

“You married me fourteen months ago.”

Exhaling in relief, he gave you a winning grin, leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

“Baby, in my head we were married the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Such a liar.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Finishing your drink, you shook your head before Tony pulled you closer, clearly feigning hurt at your reaction.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Tony, I literally had to drop so many hints before you finally mustered up the courage to finally ask me out.”

It was true. It took him months to admit to his growing feelings towards you before he finally knocked on your door one day to ask you for dinner. “The team is out for the night and I was wondering if you were the sort of person who eats dinner?” Were his exact words as you recalled. It was cute and rather hilarious watching Iron Man all flustered.

“Hey! I can’t be a genius when it comes to all things. Give me break! Besides, you agreed to marry me. Not Mr. Random Romeo over there. Me.”

Giggling, you pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, watching his eyes narrowing as he spotted that man wandering along the halls again.

“Yes, I did. My hero.”

It was kinda hot watching your husband get all jealous, not something you’d see often considering most people were well aware of the fact that you were Tony’s girl.

“Why do you attract these schmucks?” Tony wondered out loud, grabbing your hand as you made your way through the crowd. It would be a long night and messing with your husband never seemed like a better idea.

“Mm. Believe me, I keep asking myself the same question some days.”

[mmeskywalker]

|| second date update

summary: you were confused to as why ANAKIN SKYWALKER didn’t call you back. after being friends for so long, you finally got the chance to go on a date with the guy, and he completely ghosts you. what went wrong? you asked yourself. eventually, the question got to be too much to bear, so padmé helps you out…

word count: 2.6k+

a/n: this is lowercase intended. please do not be alarmed! i’ve been watching brooke and jubal tiktoks all week sooooo, here we are.

warnings: modern!ani, a little angsty, but that’s literally it.

——————————————————————————

“no, padmé, that’s exactly the problem.” you groan into your palms. “he won’t call me back!”

just your luck, you go out on a date with your best friend of 4 years and he decides he wants nothing to do with you anymore.

of-fucking-course.

“well—honey,” she sighs, her slender fingers pushing your hair out of your face. padmé pauses for a moment, trying to think of what to tell you until suddenly her head perks. “do you listen to the radio at all?” she asks.

you shake your head. “only when i’m really bored.”

“well, there’s this radio show called brooke and jubal in the morning… they do a segment where they call the people who leave their listeners confused about why they aren’t calling them back.”

“really?” you lift your head. tempting, you think before furrowing your brows. “okay, no—i am NOT having a radio show call anakin to ask about why he’s not calling me back.”

padmé laughs, opening up her macbook, “if you don’t email them, i will, y/n!”

your eyes widen as she clicks on the gmail app, her mouse edging against the button that allows her to contact brooke and jubal. you close your eyes, a hand reaching over to squeeze her arm as if giving her permission to do it despite your heart racing faster than it ever has before.

before you know it, she’s written a message and hitting send.

“what’s the worst that will happen?” padmé says. “they get hundreds of emails a day, they’re unlikely to even respond.”

“right,” you reluctantly agree.

——————————————————————————

you wake up to your phone buzzing beside you. with a groan, you roll over, your hand plopping on the device as if trying to turn off an alarm. it doesn’t turn off. your head perks up, confused until you recognize the number.

brooke and jubal.

“shit!” you shout, stumbling your phone in your hands before clicking the glowing, green button, answering their call.

“uh— hello?” you try to keep your composure, but embarrassment is rushing through your entire body. you’re on the phone with a radio show trying to get ahold of anakin.

pathetic.

“hello! this is jubal, from brooke and jubal in the morning.” a host-like voice booms from the other line. “is this y/n we’re speaking to?”

“it is!” you say, sounding just as excited despite the pit forming in your stomach.

jubal laughs, “wonderful! did we wake you?” he asks. “sorry about that, we just wanted to hear a more detailed version of what happened the other night.”

“this guy… anakin?” brooke jumps in. “you say that he was your best friend?”

“yeah!” you rub your face. “yeah—we were close for 4 years. he asks me on a date, and afterward completely ignores me.”

brooke makes a sound of sheer confusion from the other line. “huh, that’s so weird,” she exclaims. “tell me more about this date. was there anything that could have indicated this out of him?”

you scrunch your forehead, trying to recall a bad moment. “he seemed a little nervous, but that’s just anakin.” you chuckle. “we had a great time. he came over to my house and we prepared picnic foods, laughing and cooking together until he drove us to our favorite park. i thought everything was going really well.”

“there was even a moment where it looked as if he wanted to kiss me,” you continue. “we had just stopped laughing, and he started to look at me with his big, beautiful, blue eyes… it was as if the entire world momentarily stopped spinning.”

“looked as if?” jubal asks. “so he didn’t actually kiss you?”

that stings a little, but you shake your head. “no, he didn’t actually kiss me.”

“bummer!” brooke replies. “i wonder why? it sounds as if you guys had a really great night. a romantic picnic with your best friend—i don’t understand what went wrong, do you jubal?”

“no, i don’t either!”

jubal pauses for a moment, “and you’re sure nothing weird or embarrassing happened during your date?”

“i’m positive, jubal.” you are quick to reply.

“well,” he sighs. “i’m pretty confused too then. i say we call him and get to the bottom of this. before we do that though, you need to prepare for the worst. whatever he’s about to say will be broadcasted on the radio, and it might be embarrassing. are you okay with that, y/n?”

you nod your head, your tone shifting slightly. “yes, i—i just want my best friend back.”

“you seem like such a kind girl,” brooke frowns. “we’ll figure this out for you.”

“we aaarrrrreeee going to have to ask you to mute though, y/n,” jubal adds, “i know it’ll be tempting but try not to join into the conversation until we signal you in.”

you let out a quiet laugh, nodding silently. “okay, i’ll try my best!” your nervousness begins to pile into your gut as they warn you about adding anakin the the call. it’s all beginning to feel a little too real. you swallow thickly, double checking that you’re muted.

“hello?” anakin stretches, his voice groggy from sleep.

“hello, good morning!” jubal says, excitedly. “can i speak to anakin, please?”

“uh, yeah, this is him.” anakin replies, confused.

jubal smiles warmly, his voice clear on the other line, almost as if he were catching up with an old friend. “hi, how are you?” he asks.

“good— who is this?” anakin is clearly not in the mood, and you look to the side, ashamed to be contacting him this way.

“this is jubal, from brooke and jubal in the morning!” before he can finish, anakin cuts him off. “broken what?” he asks, mishearing jubal’s declaration.

some guy in the background laughs as brooke comments, “well, we are broken.” before jubal chuckles, cutting them off. “no, brooke and jubal in the morning, we host a radio show!”

“we’re calling you because we got an email about you from one of our listeners,” jubal says. “an email?” anakin replies. “yeah it’s from a girl that you went out on a date with!”

“what, i’m sorry— i don’t understand what’s going on.” anakin sighs, scratching his head.

“i know, you’re not supposed to yet, i’ll explain… okay, so i host a radio show, and we do a segment called ‘the second date update’, that’s where you go out on a date with somebody and then don’t call them after. when that happens, they email us to see if we can get you on the phone and ask what happened.”

“okay…” anakin says, his attention beginning to focus on the phone call.

jubal raises a brow. “so you went out on a date with a girl named y/n?”

you hear anakin stand from his bed and know exactly what he’s doing. whenever he gets stressed he starts to pace back and forth, and it causes you to hold you breath. “y—yes i did,” he mutters, almost as if he were embarrassed.

“you sound a little ashamed there, buddy?” jubal states. “is everything alright?”

“yeah, everything’s fine.” anakin clears his throat. “why are you asking about y/n?”

jubal doesn’t hesitate to answer. “well, she told us that you guys had a really romantic evening. you went out on a picnic, enjoyed some alone time together, and there was even a moment where she thought you would kiss her.”

“i don’t know if i want to talk about this on the radio…” anakin says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“listen, man,” jubal sighs. “i get that, i do, but y/n agreed to hearing whatever it is you have to say, no matter the outcome.”

anakin exhales sharply, and you can practically hear him running a hand through his hair. “she said that?” his voice is quieter now, more cautious, like he’s speaking directly to himself and not the hosts.

“she did,” jubal says, his tone warm, almost encouraging. “she just wants her best friend back, man. but she also doesn’t understand what happened. you’ve got to help us out here—what’s going on? why’d you ghost her?”

anakin groans, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of his pacing. you know exactly what he looks like right now: hair a mess, his hand constantly fidgeting at the back of his neck, that crease forming between his brows like it does when he’s stressed.

“it’s not like i wanted to ignore her,” he finally mutters, almost defensively. “but it’s… complicated.”

brooke hums, and you can picture her leaning closer to the mic like she’s about to pull the truth out of him. “anakin, you know we’re not letting you off the hook with ‘complicated,’ right? y/n told us the date was perfect—picnic, laughs, chemistry. what could possibly have gone so wrong?”

“nothing went wrong!” he snaps, but then he sighs, his tone softening. “that’s the thing. it was perfect. it was too perfect, okay? y/n’s been my best friend for years, and suddenly, she’s there, and she looks… she looks beautiful, and she’s laughing at my dumb jokes, and we’re just… making sandwiches in her kitchen like we’ve done a hundred times before, but it doesn’t feel the same. it felt like… like I was standing on the edge of something huge.”

jubal chuckles lightly. “sounds like you’re describing a rom-com moment, dude. you’re telling me you ghosted her because it felt too right?”

anakin groans again, frustrated. “you don’t get it. if it went wrong—if i messed it up—i wouldn’t just lose a date. i’d lose her. and I can’t… i can’t lose her.”

your heart squeezes painfully at his words. it’s everything you’ve been dying to hear, but it’s also infuriating. he was scared? that’s why he disappeared without a word?

brooke clicks her tongue, her voice playful but firm. “anakin, honey, i’m gonna be honest—you sound like a massive idiot right now. instead of risking messing things up, you actually messed things up by ghosting her. she thinks you don’t care.”

“but i do care,” he blurts, almost desperate. “i care so much it freaks me out. y/n’s… she’s everything. she’s been there for me through everything. and then that night, it wasn’t just friendship anymore—it was something more. i didn’t know what to do with that.”

there’s a long pause, and you realize you’re holding your breath, your hands gripping your phone so tightly your knuckles ache.

“look,” jubal says, breaking the silence. “i get that you’re scared, man. love’s messy, and yeah, maybe it’s risky. but if you don’t talk to her, you’re gonna lose her anyway. is that what you want?”

anakin’s voice is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “no. that’s not what i want.”

“so, can we bring her in?” brooke asks gently, her voice softening now. “she’s been listening this whole time. do you want to talk to her?”

your stomach flips as the words register. this is it. the moment you’ve been waiting for—and dreading.

anakin hesitates, and for a second, you’re terrified he’ll say no. but then he exhales, his voice steady despite the emotion laced in it. “yeah. yeah, let me talk to her.”

jubal gives you the signal, and your thumb hovers over the mute button. your chest feels impossibly tight, the rhythmic pounding of your heart drowning out every other sound in the room. you try to steady your breathing, but it’s no use—the nervous energy coursing through you is electric. swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally press the button, unmuting yourself.

“anakin?” your voice wavers, barely above a whisper.

there’s a beat of silence so long you’re sure he’s left the call. just as you’re about to check your phone, his voice filters through, quiet and uncertain. “y/n.”

his tone carries so much weight that your stomach twists painfully. “so…” you begin, your words shaky. “you’ve been ignoring me because you’re scared?”

he groans softly, the sound distant, like he’s pacing again. you can almost picture him: one hand tugging at his hair, the other shoved deep into his pocket. “it sounds so stupid when you say it like that.”

“because it is stupid,” you shoot back, though your voice lacks venom. “do you know how much i’ve been overthinking this? how many times i’ve replayed that night in my head, wondering if i did something wrong?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” he says, almost tripping over his words in his eagerness to reassure you. “you were… perfect.” his voice dips lower, softer. “that’s the problem, y/n. everything about that night was perfect. and it terrified me.”

your breath catches, the sincerity in his words catching you off guard. “terrified you? why?”

anakin exhales heavily, and when he speaks, his voice is laced with raw vulnerability. “because i realized that night that you’re not just my best friend anymore. you’re… so much more than that. and if i mess this up, i lose you. i don’t know if i could handle losing you.”

his confession hits you like a tidal wave, a mix of emotions swelling in your chest—relief, frustration, affection. “anakin,” you say softly, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. “you’ve been my best friend for four years. do you really think i’d just disappear if something went wrong?”

he hesitates, and you can hear the faint creak of floorboards as he shifts his weight. “i don’t know,” he finally admits, his voice so small it makes your heart ache. “but i couldn’t take that chance.”

“you idiot,” you mutter, shaking your head even though he can’t see you. there’s no malice in your words, only exasperated affection. “do you have any idea how much i wanted you to kiss me that night? how much i’ve been hoping you’d just talk to me instead of leaving me in the dark?”

“i wanted to,” he says, the regret heavy in his tone. “god, y/n, i wanted to kiss you so badly. but then i started overthinking, and all i could see were the ways i might screw everything up. so i panicked.”

you let out a dry laugh, the bitterness in it surprising even you. “well, congratulations. you managed to freak yourself out over nothing and made things awkward anyway.”

he laughs, a soft, breathy sound that carries a hint of his usual warmth. “yeah, i guess i did.”

silence settles over the call, thick with unspoken emotions. it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s heavy, like both of you are trying to figure out what comes next.

finally, he breaks it. “so… where do we go from here, y/n?” his voice is tentative, like he’s afraid of the answer.

before you can respond, jubal’s voice cuts in, light and teasing. “how about i pay for your second date?”

you can’t help but laugh, the tension breaking just enough for you to breathe again. “i think that’s be wonderful, jubal.”

“good,” jubal adds, clearly grinning. “because it sounds like you two could use a do-over. no pressure, though.”

anakin’s chuckle rumbles softly through the line. “i wouldn’t mind that. a do-over, i mean. but only if you’re up for it, y/n.”

your chest tightens at his words, but this time, it’s not from anxiety. it’s hope, tentative but real. “yeah,” you say quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i think we could use a do-over.”

the radio show hosts cheer dramatically in the background, and even brooke chimes in with a delighted laugh. “now that’s what we like to hear!”

as the call winds down, anakin’s voice softens again. “can i call you later? you know, without the whole radio audience listening in?”

you grin, the weight of the past few days finally starting to lift. “yeah, anakin. call me later.”

“i will,” he promises, and for the first time in days, you believe him.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

One bed

Azriel x reader

Word count: 3000+

Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances, you end up in the same room as Azriel

Warnings: none

I'd love to say I have solved the Frozen thingy, but I haven't yet. I've started writing part 3 and that's where I stopped because of the madness around. I was so close to making a solid plan for it. Unfortunately, the work happened, then Christmas at work baking f***ing chicken farm. Then husband got fever🙄and he couldn't live without getting someone else sick as well, so now son has high fever too and I'm the last one somehow surviving here. At least I have whole week of holidays next week. I hoped to relax and write more, but we'll see. Wish me luck🥴

Anyway here's something small and not so angsty that just popped up suddenly. Hope you enjoy it.

And for everyone who celebrate, have a peaceful holiday 💕

"I thought I've reserved enough rooms," Rhysand sighed. The last hour he was talking with the owner of the inn we were staying at, trying all possible tactics to persuade him to find us one more room. Impossible task from the very beginning as the inn was full.

We were on non-official official mission. At first, there were only six of us supposed to go as Amren declined, intending to stay with Mor in Velaris, protecting it. However, the two of them had yet another quarrel recently, which led to Amren suddenly appearing with a packed bag in hand a few seconds before intended departure. Nobody, not even Rhys, had balls to tell her no. And that's why we ended up in this situation. Rhys had everything perfectly planned, as usual, but he couldn't have known this would happen. And now we were one room short, but again - nobody dared to tell aloud whose fault it was. Amren was like hungry bulldog, ready to tear to shreds anyone and anything at the best of her days. Now, she was pissed off.

Feyre and Nesta took their keys, Feyre giving me an apologetic look. From the start, they were supposed to share rooms with their mates. This was also kind of vacation for us, so it was only logical they wanted to be with their partners.

That left Rhys with last two keys in hand. Amren snatched one and without looking at anyone or even a small mumbled sorry, she left. We exchanged look and whole group finally relaxed.

"Sorry," Feyre murmured as she headed to her room with sorrowful expression.

Before she left, Nesta gazed at me with silent question and I nodded. I would be fine, for sure. Cassian winked at me as he followed her. They both knew about the feelings I had for Azriel for quite some time, each supporting me in their own way. At this point, probably everyone around knew, except for the mentioned Shadowsinger and I didn't plan to be the one to break the news. I knew my limits and he was off them.

Rhys turned to me and Azriel with sorrowful expression, brows furrowed. "I'm sorry, Az, but you know.. Ladies first," he offered me the last key. Spymaster didn't even as much as blink, no protests at all. He looked as his usual self, unbothered by the problem at the hand.

"Thankies," I smiled, took the key and looped hand to Azriel's arm. "Come."

They both opened mouth in surprise, none of them expecting this from me. Rhys recovered as first.

"Enjoy yourself," he smirked and I rolled my eyes.

"Ha ha ha, how funny," I stuck out tongue at him. He chuckled and hurried after his mate, leaving the two of us alone. I raised brow at Shadowsinger who was still too shocked to speak. He didn't even notice Rhys' teasing.

"What? Did you think I would let you sleep on roof or what?"

"B-b-but," he stammered, his cheeks dusted with pink.

"No buts. Come!" I had to pull reluctant Azriel down the hallway.

"I can try another inn-"

"Nonsense! You would miss all the fun. Plus, I really don't mind. We are friends after all. I have nothing to be afraid of, right?"

I came to a sudden stop, realizing something.

"Wait! You mind staying with me in the same room?"

Before, it didn't occur to me that he could be against. I thought we were getting along pretty well, given the fact that we tended to seek out each other's company, sitting together and talking. The two of us even often hung out in the city, venturing cafes and bakeries. I thought he liked to spend time with me, but it could be only my mistaken impression. I knew I couldn't hope for more than friendship and I was fine with that as long as I could be close to him. He could feel differently though.

"No!" he hurried with an answer, eyes wide. "No, nothing like that. It's just.."

"What is it?"

"It's just.. you are female and I'm male."

I was so relieved to hear that, that I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. "That means that you will pounce on me like an animal as soon as door close?"

He flushed fiercely, averting his eyes. "You know I will do no such a thing. It just means that you might be uncomfortable because of that."

"I'm fine. Believe me," I said softly and took his hand. "So come on, silly."

He chuckled and this time, he willingly followed me.

The room, we got, was quite a nice one for an old inn, but it was rather smaller one. Most of the space was occupied by bed big enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. It was one of the reasons Rhysand chose this place, thinking about the comfort of his brothers. We were supposed to spend here whole week, maybe longer, so it was necessary.

Except of bed, there was only small table with two old chairs, hearth and connected bathroom.

After we settled down, the air had somehow thickened, both of us suddenly embarrassed. And so I did what I could to lighten the atmosphere a bit, but every try for a conversation died out soon after it started. At last, I gave up.

"It was long day," I stretched out, all my joints making a satisfying cracking sound and Azriel grimaced. He didn't like when I did it. "I'm tired. Do you want to use the bathroom as first?"

"No, go ahead," he offered and started to line up on table all the daggers he had on him. I paused and watched him, amazed. How could he hide so many? I thought he had only two, max three. He noticed me and smiled shyly.

"I'll clean them while you take shower. Don't worry, I'll put them away afterwards."

"I don't mind them at all," I mumbled, ashamed I got caught. "I'm just stunned you managed to sneak in the whole arsenal. Seeing it now, I would bet that not only do you have one for each of us but also even one spare."

At that he finally laughed, the rich sound warming my heart. I already missed that sound. Corners of my mouth curled into satisfied smile and I quickly gathered all necessary things and went to the bathroom.

When I came out, the daggers were gone from the table. Azriel was seated on the same chair he occupied since we came, pyjama in hands. He was staring into space, looking somehow troubled. Shadows gathered around his ear and he looked up at me, faking smile. Without a word, he stood up and hurried to the bathroom.

While I was waiting, I shoved my used underwear to the bottom of my bag and climbed to the bed, snuggling up in a warm blanket. It was quite cold here, old window hardly blocking the cold wind from outside.

Azriel took quite long to finish. By the time bathroom door creaked open, I was almost asleep. He rustled around for a while and adding big log to the fire, he turned off lights. I waited. The room went completely silent.

I opened eyes. "Are you kidding me," I sat up, sighing. "Az, I thought, we already talked it out." I glared into a dark corner by the hearth.

"Don't worry about me and sleep," he replied from his place on the old chair.

"You can't sleep on that old crap. It will most likely give in soon." The only answer was silence.

"C'mon, Az. It won't do you any good if you're sleep-deprived. To none of us in fact. What if something happens and you won't be able to fight because you are too tired and sore?"

Again silence.

"Do you want me to help you to the bed? I warn you, I'm going to drag you here not by arm but by ear this time."

He chuckled. His wings rustled and mattress dipped under his weight. "Fine then. Have it your way."

I tucked him in like a small child, mindful of his wings and settled down, heart pounding in my throat.

"That wasn't necessary."

"Believe me it was. And don't try to fake it. I'm light sleeper. I will know if you get up in the middle of the night."

"Fine, fine." He sounded amused. He was lying on his back, wings folded and tugged close to his body.

"Relax. The bed is enough big for both of us. Even if you touch me. I'm not made of sugar, I won't melt into puddle," I assured him as I curled up on my side of bed with back to him, taking as little space as possible so he had enough comfort. He made a sound at the back of his throat.

I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep at all with him being so close. But as bed warmed up with his presence and his calming scent wrapped around me as another blanket, I fell asleep in no time.

* * *

Azriel didn't even blink an eye. He was just lying there, stretched on his back, gazing at ceiling. He wasn't used to falling asleep next to someone. After she reassured him, he relaxed a bit but only his body. He was too nervous and excited at the same time. He was scared to even breath, not wanting to wake her up. How could she sleep so soundly? Didn't she feel the same? Didn't his presence stir her nerves?

Shadows curled on pillow near his ear, whispering. They described him in detail how she drifted off with sweet smile on her lips. Smile that she was still wearing. He wished he could see it with his own eyes.

He dared to turn his head to the side to watch her back, her shoulder slightly rising with every breath. Even at place like this in the middle of nowhere, she kept smelling like field of spring flowers, delicate and sweet. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment.

He felt so lucky right now and thanked the Mother for sending Amren at last minute, giving him this opportunity. For years, he was trying to get closer to Y/N. No matter how many times, he was ready to tell her about his feelings, he always gave up in the end, not daring to even suggest it. She was everything he wasn't, beautiful, kind and perfect. She deserved better.

He watched her entire night, mesmerized. It was strange. She was always so energetic during the day, yet at night she didn't move at all. It made him wonder whether it was because of him or it was normal.

It was after the sunrise when he finally calmed down and dozed off for hour or two.

* * *

Three days later, a knock sounded on our door. We were just finishing off the lasts of our breakfast. We looked up in time to see Rhysand's head peeking in. He held hand over his eyes with sassy smirk on his lips.

"Can I come in? I wouldn't like to see something inappropriate."

I rolled my eyes while Azriel bid him in, unaffected by his teasing. Honestly, everyone was making fun of us for no reason. After the first night, Nesta pulled me aside to ask me how it went and how I felt. I had nothing to tell her. At least nothing interesting anyway. I slept like a baby and not only the first night, but every night after.

Every evening, Azriel dutifully took his side of bed and I curled up on mine. No touching, only a pleasant small chat between friends. It was noticeable that he didn't sleep much the first night, however after that, he didn't seem to have such troubles. I was glad for that.

"I came to inform you that finally one more room is available. If you want, one of you can take it," he grinned and waited for our reply with one brow raised.

Out of the corner of eye, I looked at Azriel who was already eyeing me with unreadable expression. It seemed he wouldn't speak and it was up to me to decide.

"Well.. I don't mind to share room with Az at all. But if you'd like to have your privacy.." I turned to him.

His eyes widened slightly and his lips moved without making a sound.

"I don't mind, too," he managed.

"So," Rhys dragged the word. "You want to stay together? Really?"

We nodded as one man, not willing to give him what he hoped for. He was visibly disappointed.

"Fine then," he sighed, "as you want. I'll inform the owner."

* * *

A week later we were so used to this situation and each other's presence that we returned to our usual selves, rambling about anything, laughing, even touching lightly.

Our mission was over and this was our last night of sharing room. Azriel was spread on bed next to me, his wing gently touching my back. I was slowly falling asleep while we did small talk. Somewhere between dream and reality I got idea. Crazy as it was, my sleepy brain didn't find anything strange or wrong with it and my body acted on its own.

With closed eyes I rolled to his side, wrapped arm around his waist and rested my head on his chest. Azriel made a surprised sound and stiffened, but he didn't try to push me away. His smell filled my nose, his warmth seeping into me. Frantic but steady melody of his heart lulled me deeper into sleep. Last thing I felt before I completely drifted off, was his body relaxing under me and his arm holding me close.

* * *

Azriel was so surprised, he couldn't think straight. What was happening? He touched Y/N lightly, yet she didn't mind. She was almost asleep, relaxed and seemingly comfortable with him as her pillow. He felt her smiling into his chest and that gave him courage to wrap his hands around her. She hummed with satisfaction and dozed off completely.

Azriel gazed at her, unsure what to think or feel. Naturally, it made him happy, a dream-come-true kind of situation, but was it really okay? Was it really happening? It seemed to him just like a figment of his imagination, fed by amazing week spent by her side, so close to her.

He pinched himself, really painfully, leaving a bruise on his forearm. It was real. He swallowed hard. Slowly small smile spread on his face. He could get used to this.

When the initial surprise and embarrassment had passed, he found himself enjoying this. His heart was pounding fast, as he touched her hair and pushed them aside to see her face. He couldn't help it and traced a single finger down her face and jaw, mapping her full lips, lovely nose and soft arches of her brows.

He chuckled lightly. Y/N didn't even stir. So much to a light-sleeper.

As he watched her, his fantasy took over, offering him all kinds of imaginary situations that could lead to them ending up in this position; from innocent snuggling together for the night to them being naked, covered in sweat and spent after good sex. His heart squeezed in pain. He loved it and wanted it all. He didn't even realize that he was tugging her closer and closer, holding her so firmly there was no space left between them.

Despite everything, the scenario of innocent snuggling immediately became his favourite one. It held a certain kind of peace and warmth, something he longed for the most. He kept replaying it again and again until he fell asleep, too. The fantasy followed him even to his dreams where it became so real that it was unbearable.

* * *

I woke up unusually early at dawn. Still drowsy I looked around, not comprehending where I was. I was warm and comfy, so ready to close my eyes again, until I notice rising and falling steady flesh under me. That completely woke me up.

I looked up, finding Azriel still fast asleep. He was smiling sweetly, yet the tears rolled down his cheeks, soft whimpers leaving his lips. My chest tightened at the sight. It hurt me to see him like this. I reached up and gently wiped the tears off.

He slowly opened eyes and looked at me, still smiling.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"'Morning, Y/N," he replied, his deep voice raspy in the most sexy way. His thumb started to move up and down my waist in soothing motion.

"Bad dreams?"

"Sometimes dreams can be so beautiful that they make one cry," he murmured. He sounded so sad that I felt like crying too. Instead, I placed both of my hands on his chest and rested my chin on top of them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I searched his eyes.

He shook his head and wiped off the rest of his tears. "I just wish I could go back and keep having the same dream for the rest of my life," he sighed, his eyes never leaving my face.

I propped up on my elbow and caressed his cheek. "You know that dreams don't have to stay dreams. They can became reality if you want them to."

His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something. Determination filled his eyes and he lifted up his head, stopping an inch from my face, waiting.

It was so sudden that I held my breath, but I didn't pull away. Watching me closely, Azriel leaned even closer and his lips lightly grazed over mine. I moaned, my body acting on its own. My eyes closed and I firmly pressed my lips to his. All the years of my suppressed feelings poured into this one kiss, not believing that there would be any more. He groaned and opened up, slowly moving, testing the waters. His fingers dug into flesh of my waist, holding me impossibly close.

It ended as suddenly as it started. He reluctantly broke the kiss and rested his forehead against mine, heaving.

"I want it to become real."

[pintrestgrl]

hihi it's me again, i feel super hyper rn , but bsf!jj has been stuck in my head!!! specifically bsf!jj & innocent!reader , it starts off as a innocent little hangout at the chateau and ends with a head full of blonde hair in-between readers legs .... reader vents about feeling starved-touch since the last time jj had played with her (story for another time) and jj, being the best friend he is obviously takes action!! after all isn't that what bsfs are for !

- 🩰

BSF! JJ ‘ND INNOCENT!READER

you missed your bestfriend. that’s all this was. simply, a quick hang out to ease the boredom. however, there was a few pushed away thoughts in the back of your head.

ones that consisted of missing jj for other reasons too, like physical ones. you remembered everything from that one night, the night where you two shared a few hundred kisses, and he had touched you in a way that left you wanting more.

you had never done that with anyone else. never done that at all, before that night. never gave up your body like that, been seen so vulnerable infront of someone. and nobody ever made you feel the way jj did that night.

that’s how you found yourself at the chateau, sat on the couch with him. john b and sarah were out at the beach, pope studying and kie grounded. it was just you two. you first started to watch a random movie he found, before you grew bored.

you didn’t wanna be doing that— you wanted him showing you the same amount of touch he did that night. you slowly began to gain the courage, speaking. “jay, i don’t wanna watch this.” he raised his brows, looking over at you. “you told me to pick whatever. what do you wanna watch then?”

you rolled your eyes. it was beginning to annoy you how stupid he was being. how you could feel your panties sticking to you. “i don’t wanna watch anything. i just—“ you paused, unsure of what to say next. you didn’t wanna seem weird.

jj had brushed past that night like it didn’t matter. you two never brought it up again, therefore it shouldn’t have mattered or affected you this much. but it did, whether you chose to acknowledge it or not. he noticed your nervousness. “what? spit it out, kid.”

you had enough of whatever game this was. you just wanted him close to you again. you began to speak, rambling. “i just— i can’t stop thinking about that one stupid night and what we did— i haven’t even been touched like that since then and i don’t know what to do and—“

he interrupted you, speaking. “you coulda just said that shit. didn’t really need to throw a whole fit about it.” you sighed with annoyance, getting frustrated. “really? that’s all you have to say?” he laughed, remarking right back. “i can show you better then tell you.” you furrowed your brows, confused.

he slowly began to change his position, laying on his stomach in front of your body. you began to get nervous, body tensing. he slowly kissed right below the hem of your denim shorts, the kisses leaving wet marks. he sat up, pressing another wet kiss on your lips this time.

you returned it, feeling his hand subtly creep up to unbutton your shorts. he shimmied them down your body, still continuing the sloppy kiss. he ran a finger through your panty clad folds, feeling the wetness coat his finger.

he slowly pulled away, laying back down. he was eye level with your cunt, and it made you feel embarrassed. but the feeling slowly went away, realizing this was your bestfriend. the same kid who had seen you in all phases of your life, awkward and not.

you eased up, watching as he slid the panties down your legs next. he licked a long stripe up to your clit, attaching his lips around the bud. he sucked, moving your thighs to lay on his shoulders as he held your thighs open. you whimpered, he had never done this to you before.

the farthest you went with him was fingering. this was different. it made you want him all the more. he dragged his tongue back down, sloppily pushing his tongue inside your pussy. he drew out a moan from you, your hands going to the blonde boys hair.

he continued his motions, hands holding your hips down as you writhed under him. you were getting close. you recognized the feeling from the last time with him. “mmph— jay, oh my god,” he chuckled into your folds, the vibrations putting you over the edge.

you came, his mouth once again attaching to your clit to ride you through it. you moaned, the feelings beginning to feel too much. you pushed his head away, as he laughed and sat up. he wiped his mouth. “you feel better now?” he said, grinning.

truth is, it did. seriously. you nodded your head, as he slid your panties back on. he sat back against the couch with a sigh, his hands going behind his head.

it went silent for a minute, before he spoke. “next time you need that, just tell me. don’t make it all weird ‘nd shit.” you nodded, his words registering in your mind. that plan sounded better, to you.

you didn’t wanna play a game like that again.

[r11yh1soka]

Eren angst pls? (No dying tho please because that’s too sad 🥺

Sure! :)

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

pairings: eren jaeger x reader

synopsis: ||modern au|| you and your husband of five years get into an argument over his workaholic tendencies and it doesn't end well.

"Y/n. Stop it. I'm tired of having this argument with you." Eren claimed, dismissing you from his desk chair in your home office.

You scoffed at him in disbelif, your hand on your hip and the other rubbing over your forehead with a shake of your head. You couldn't believe him right now, you couldn't believe your husband and father to your child was speaking to you like this right now.

"Well maybe we wouldn't have to keep having this argument if you put in a little more goddamn effort to our family!' you snapped at him angrily and his hand slammed down onto his desk in response.

"More effort? Who pays all the fucking bills around here, huh? I work my ass off to give you and our son the life you deserve but excise me if I'm a little fucking tired when I come home! Excuse me if I don't want to listen to you nag me about getting home late!" He shouted at you with an anger in his voice you'd never heard before.

"Nag you?! Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize asking you to put our son to bed or speak a bit kinder to me was nagging!" you scoffed again, dropping your hand from your face as the tears swelled.

"Well now you know!" he refuted loudly, looking at you from across the room.

The moment he spoke his eyes flickered wide with regret, as if what he said din't click until after he'd already said it. But the damage had already been done.

You shook your head and sniffled, looking at the man you loved love, speaking to you with so much anger in his voice. You reached into your back pocket, holding the news you we're once excited to share with him. You walked over to stand before his desk, your fist balled and the other clutching the black and white photo, you slammed it down on his desk in front of him.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm pregnant, it's a girl...but my apologies for nagging you. I'll leave you back to your work now," you mumbled and turned with tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Baby...wait..." he called out softly just as you shut his office door behind yourself.

You didn't waste any time fleeing, you hurried to the staircase and ran up the steps as your sobs became uncontrollable. You could hear footsteps after you but you didn't care. When you tried to care, you we're only met with another argument and you we're tired of it...so tired. You could hardly see, you stumbled into the nursey of your unborn daughter. You'd spent all week decorating it, you we're waiting for the right moment to tell Eren but he'd only come home tonight.

He worked late all week and when he was home he just busied himself with more work. You thought showing him the decorated nursey with splashed of pink in the decoration was the perfect way to surprise him with the news. That obviously was not the case.

Your back hit the wall of the nursey and yous lid down to the floor, in practically a puddle of your own tears. You sobbed with your face in your knees and your hand over your stomach, you heard the door creak open but you didn't bother looking.

"I..." he mumbled as he crouched down to sit in front of you on the floor.

"I have been nothing but cruel and neglectful...I'm sorry. I did not mean to raise my voice or say that you nag me," he apolgized and reached out to touch your arm but you snatched it away.

"But you did mean it. You meant every word," you cursed and lifted your head up.

"I didn't...I'm exhausted and I spoke wrongly...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." he apologized again and reached for your hand, displaying your wedding band between the two of you.

"I swore myself to you when I put this ring on your finger...I have neglected my vows and for that I'm sorry. I will never speak to you like that again...you're my wife, you could never nag me. Never," he muttered breathlessly and you allowed him to hold your hand.

"You don't talk to me. We are husband and wife but you don't tell me when you're struggling..I can help you but you don't let me, you just bottle it up until we argue. I don't want to live like that, Eren. I won't," you shook your head at the thought and he moved a bit closer to you.

"And I will never ask you to...I'm sorry, so sorry baby." his eyes watered, the bags underneath his eyes we're far from faint and the messieness of his hair told a story in itself.

He was exhausted, that was never a question. He held your hand in his before bringing his face to yours and pressing his forehead against yours gently, apologizing to you profusely.

"This is just a rough spot...we'll get out of it, I promise." he breathed and brought his hand up to your cheek gently.

"A vacation...let's go on a vacation. I'll take time off from work, as much as you think we need...to fix this," he whispered and you slowly began to nod as he wiped the tears off your cheek.

"And counseling...I want us to go to counseling." you suggested and you we're met with an immediate nod of agreement from him.

"Of course...whatever it takes for this to work. I love you...and I don't want to speak to you like that ever again." He held your face in his hand, speaking to you calmly.

He kissed your cheek gently, his affection was needed, it's been needed these past few weeks. He stood up and with a hand he helped you up too.

"Now...let me apologize to our little girl too." he insisted, sliding his hands down to your stomach and leaning down too.

You smiled at the gesture and the feeling of his hands on your bare stomach, your shirt lifted before him. You listened to him apologize to your unborn daughter, rubbing his hands over your stomach soothingly. He was trying...that's all that you'd ever asked for. You wanted to make this work and he did too, just as much as you did.

This was first rough patch in five years and in your book, you'd consider that a win...as emotional as this all has been. As you watched him speak to your unborn daughter and kiss your stomach, you knew that this was the man you wanted to go through hell and back with. You were sure of it.

[hisfavegirl]

Beneath the Veil of Sin.

Pairing : Modern!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary : This is a story of a love too powerful to ignore, yet too dangerous to embrace, where desire thrives in the dark, and the cost of passion may be more than either of them can bear.

The city lights were a blur as the car hummed steadily down the highway, the night air cool as it filtered through the slightly cracked window. You were on your way back from Daemon’s office party, a glamorous affair filled with work colleagues and polite conversation. You had always found such events to be a mix of excitement and discomfort, but with Daemon by your side, it had been far easier to navigate the endless smiles and small talk.

Daemon was different tonight, though. Even more handsome than usual, dressed in his perfectly tailored suit, his silver hair slightly tousled from the day’s events. He always had this air of confidence about him, but tonight, there was something more—a kind of quiet grace that made your heart beat just a little faster. The way his jawline was sharp, the way his eyes always seemed to hold a certain depth, even in the dim glow of the car’s interior—it was hard not to look at him.

As you stole another glance, you caught Daemon’s eyes flickering to you in the rearview mirror. There was a brief pause before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he chuckled softly.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement, but the kind of softness that made it clear he knew exactly why you was looking at him.

You blushed, a little caught off guard, but managed to stutter out, “No, it’s just… you look really good tonight.”

Daemon’s smile widened, but his gaze quickly returned to the road. “Always the charmer,” he teased lightly, his voice rich with affection.

The hum of the engine and the soft rush of wind through the window filled the quiet moments that followed. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It was a kind of quiet that you had come to appreciate—a silence shared between two people who didn’t need words to understand each other.

You watched as his hand rested casually on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping lightly in time with the beat of the music playing softly from the car speakers. The steady rhythm made everything feel calm, grounding me in this moment with him. The road stretched out ahead of us, endless and wide, but in the moment, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.

After a few moments, Daemon let out a soft laugh again, almost to himself, before speaking up. “You know, you make me nervous when you look at me like that.”

You frowned slightly. “Why?”

He glanced at you again, his eyes warm. “Because I know you see right through me. And sometimes, that’s a little… too much.”

you tilted your head, trying to read his expression. “I don’t see anything I don’t like,” you said, your voice sincere.

Daemon’s eyes softened, and he gave a quiet chuckle, the sound almost like a secret. “You’re something else, aren’t you?” he mused, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You leaned back against the seat, the warmth of his words settling comfortably in the space between us. You didn’t need anything more, not right now. Just this—being here with him, sharing the quiet of the drive, was enough.

The road ahead seemed to stretch forever, but for once, You wasn’t thinking about where we were going. you was thinking about right now.

The car rolled steadily down the highway, the low hum of the engine and the rhythmic sound of the tires against the road were the only things breaking the silence. Daemon had his hand on the wheel, his fingers lightly tapping to the beat of the song playing softly in the background. The quiet comfort of the ride should have been enough, but there was a subtle shift in the air-an unspoken tension that had started to grow between us.

You didn't expect it. One moment, everything was calm, and the next, his hand—warm and firm-was gently brushing against your thigh. You froze for a moment, your breath catching in my throat.

His touch was so casual, so light, yet it sent a ripple of heat straight through you. You could feel the weight of his hand resting there, his fingers barely grazing the skin of your inner thigh.

You looked over him, catching his gaze for just a brief second, and he seemed completely at ease, his expression not betraying any hint of the small, quiet power that his touch had over you. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, and finally managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Daemon... you should focus on the road."

He glanced at you, his lips curling into a small, playful smile, his eyes flickering with amusement. "I am focusing," he teased, his voice low and smooth, like a whisper just for you. But his hand didn't move. Instead, it lingered, his fingers slowly making small, deliberate circles against your thigh.

You couldn't help but glance down, feeling the heat of his touch spreading through your body, making everything else seem distant and irrelevant. The weight of the moment was heavy-too heavy. You should have told him to stop, You should have pulled away, but something inside you stayed still, rooted in place by the connection between two of you.

Daemon's gaze flickered back to the road, but there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and the smile tugging at his lips only deepened. "You're not making this easy, you know," he said, his voice teasing but layered with something darker, something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You shifted in your seat, your body betraying you as you tried to pull away, but his hand didn't budge. It stayed there, light but persistent, a quiet reminder of how much of a hold he had on you.

"You should really pay attention," You muttered, your voice almost breathless now, your heart hammering in your chest.

Daemon chuckled softly, a sound that made the air between you crackle with something that felt dangerously close to something more. "I'm paying attention to you, princess," he said, his fingers tightening ever so slightly, as if to make sure you felt the weight of his touch.

The warmth from his hand, the subtle pressure, made your pulse race even faster. You felt trapped between wanting to pull away and wanting to stay exactly where you were. The air in the car felt thick, heavy with the unspoken, and you realized that this-this moment, with Daemon's touch lingering so close-was pushing you into dangerous territory.

"Daemon..." you whispered, your voice shaking, but before you could say anything more, his thumb brushed a little too close to where you could feel the fire building inside of you.

He didn't say anything more. His gaze was locked on the road, but you could feel the shift in him, the same tension that you felt in the pit of my stomach. For a moment, the world outside the car felt irrelevant. All that mattered was the two of us in this small space, tangled up in something neither of you knew how to untangle.

You bit my lip, your mind racing, and you realized that no matter how hard you tried to fight it, Daemon was never going to let you forget just how much control he had over you.

His hand, still resting on your thigh, seemed to burn through the fabric of your dress, and your breath caught in your throat. His fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, a touch so light yet so possessive that it left me both frozen and restless, trapped in the tension he had created.

Finally, his voice broke through the quiet, low and full of something dark and simmering. "I've been holding back since the party," he murmured, his voice rough as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye. "Seeing you in that dress, the way everyone looked at you... it's been driving me crazy."

You couldn't breathe. The weight of his words settled into the pit of your stomach, making everything inside you stir with a dangerous desire you hadn't expected. His hand remained steady on your thigh, each stroke sending jolts of heat through your body.

The thought of everyone at the party-his colleagues, the way they looked at you, the way they wanted you— made you feel both exposed and wanted in a way that was completely intoxicating. But it was Daemon's reaction, the way his jealousy flickered beneath th urface, that made you pulse race even faster.

Daemon's grip tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing a little higher on your inner thigh, and you shivered. "Seeing their eyes on you," he continued, his voice darker now, "like they couldn't wait to get their hands on you. It made me see red."

You bit my lip, trying to ignore the overwhelming sensation of his touch, but your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly into his warmth. You knew he was still looking at you, his gaze intense, but your own eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, unwilling to meet his. The emotions swirling between you-desire, possessiveness, and something much deeper-felt too much to handle.

"Daemon," You whispered, your voice barely audible, torn between wanting to pull away and the undeniable pull toward him. "You shouldn't be doing this."

He chuckled, low and deep, his fingers curling against my skin. "But I want to," he said, his voice thick with desire. "And I think you do, too."

You wanted to protest. You should have protested. But in the face of his touch, of the heat radiating from him, You found your words stuck in your throat. The world outside the car seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, caught in this dangerous, forbidden moment. The tension was suffocating, and yet, You couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

Daemon's gaze never left you, his smoldering eyes flickering with something dark and intense. "You don't know how hard it's been to control myself," he murmured, his voice low, almost like a growl. "I've wanted to kiss you all night. I've wanted to take you and show you how much I need you."

The raw honesty in his words was enough to make your breath hitch, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. He was dangerous, his words and touch dangerous, but there was something thrilling in that danger, something you couldn't ignore.

His hand moved again, this time higher, pressing against your heated core. "And seeing the way they looked at you," he added, his tone harsh now, "it made me want to claim you in front of everyone."

You moaned as you felt his hand start to stroke your core, his movements slow and sure. making small circles, which sent heat throughout your body. you leaned back in the car seat and spread your legs, the daemon who saw it just laughed softly. "look, my beautiful girlfriend turned into a whore because of my touch?"

Then you could feel him remove the g string you were wearing and insert two fingers, you arched your body because of it. his thumbs started to stroke your clit sending shivers through your body "Daemon.."

Daemon glanced at you before he finally moved his two fingers, curling them to touch your spot. He could feel your walls squeezing his fingers, and made him imagine how your walls would wrap around his hardening cock. He growled at the thought. "fuck, you look so hot you know that?"

His fingers continued to curl in and out of you, making the knot in your stomach tighten. You tried to hold back your moans, but to no avail. He added another finger and his thumb continued to stroke your clit as it began to swell. you opened your eyes, looking at him with a lustful gaze. your body arched again when his finger touched your spot, daemon just chuckled darkly he knew the power he held over you.

Your body begins to tremble as waves of pleasure wash over you. Slowly he pulled his finger that was wet with your fluids, then he sucked his finger. Feeling you on his tongue, he let out a hum of approval. "You taste so sweet my love" Your breath quickens, you lean back weakly, gathering your strength after the pleasure that he gave you.

Your eyes darted toward him, catching the way his jaw tightened, the way his grip on the steering wheel grew firmer. He looked calm on the surface, but you knew better. The restraint was costing him, and something about that knowledge sent a thrill through you.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you lifted your hand and placed it on his thigh.

His reaction was instant. You felt his muscles tense beneath your palm, the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric of his suit pants. He inhaled sharply, his grip on the wheel tightening as his knuckles whitened. His gaze didn't leave the road, but the change in his demeanor was unmistakable.

"Careful," he said, his voice low and strained. It was a warning, but there was no real threat in it —only a challenge, one that made your pulse quicken.

You let your hand rest there for a moment, testing the waters. His thigh was firm under your touch, and the heat of his body seemed to seep into your skin. You shifted your fingers slightly, just enough to remind him of your presence, and his reaction didn't disappoint.

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek, and you swore you heard him curse under his breath.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, your voice innocent but laced with a hint of mischief.

His laugh was low and humorless, tinged with disbelief. "You know exactly what you're doing."

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. "Do !?"

The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he were fighting a smirk. He glanced at you briefly, his eyes dark and full of something dangerous. "If you're trying to test my patience, love, you're doing a damn good job."

You smiled, letting your fingers move ever so slightly, tracing a small, teasing pattern on his thigh. "You seemed tense," you said softly, your tone laced with mock concern. "I thought I'd help."

His laugh this time was low and guttural, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "You're playing with fire."

"Maybe," you said, your voice steady despite the way your heart raced. "But I don't think you'll stop me."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension between you crackled like a live wire, and you could feel the weight of his desire pressing down on you, almost suffocating in its intensity.

Finally, Daemon exhaled sharply, a sound that was part frustration, part surrender. "You're going to drive me mad," he muttered, his voice rough and unsteady.

"Maybe," you repeated, a small smile playing on your lips.

Your hand rested lightly on his thigh, the heat of his body radiating through the fabric of his suit. You could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

Daemon's gaze remained fixed on the road, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white against the dark leather.

You let your fingers move slowly, tracing light, teasing circles on his thigh. His reaction was immediate-a sharp intake of breath, his jaw clenching as if he were trying to maintain control.

"Careful," he warned, his voice low and strained, but the edge in his tone only encouraged you.

Feigning innocence, you tilted your head and let your fingers trail a little higher. "What is it?" you asked softly, your voice laced with a playful curiosity.

His grip on the wheel tightened further, and his gaze flicked toward you for the briefest of moments, dark and smoldering. "Don't push me," he said, his voice a warning, though it lacked conviction.

You smiled, emboldened by the way his body betrayed him, the way his breathing had grown heavier. Your fingers continued their slow ascent, the teasing touch deliberate, testing.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stop?" you asked, your voice soft but teasing.

Daemon let out a low, guttural laugh, his head shaking slightly. "You're playing a dangerous game," he said, his voice rough.

"Am I?" you countered, your hand moving higher still, brushing against the fabric of his suit in a way that made him shift in his seat.

His reaction sent a thrill through you. His breathing was heavier now, his composure slipping, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. But just as your hand ventured too far, his own hand shot down, gripping your wrist firmly, stopping you in your tracks.

"Enough," he said, his voice sharp, commanding. His eyes darted to you, dark and filled with warning. "Don't push me unless you're ready to handle what comes next."

You leaned your body closer to him, your lips very close to his ear "maybe I can handle what will happen after this" then you bit the tip of his ear which made him moan softly.

Your hands began to unbuckle his belt, his grip on the steering wheel tightened. Your hands then stroked his hardened cock, and you pulled it out of his pants. seeing his erect and red cock made your mouth water. Without thinking you brought your mouth to suck on the tip causing Daemon to moan.

"fuck love, you are something else" he growled as he pushed your head down, forcing you to take his cock into your mouth. The tip of his cock touched the tip of your throat causing you to gag. You start sucking his cock, you bop your head in a slow and steady rhythm. His hands don't stay still he helps you by guide your head.

"fuck, your mouth fits so perfectly on my cock" he growled as he pushed your head to force his cock all the way down your throat. tears were already gathering in your eyes, due to choking on his cock.

His gaze remained on the road, but every now and then he glanced at you. His beautiful girlfriend was sucking his cock in the car. You could feel his cock starting to twitch in your mouth, he growled softly before finally cumming in your mouth. you suck his cock one last time before lifting your head and swallowing all of his cum. He laughed softly and shook his head, you sat back in your chair and smiled at him. "you really are something else my love"

The car slowed to a stop, the tires humming gently as Daemon pulled into a quiet, deserted area. The streetlights were few and far between, casting long shadows over the road. The silence in the car felt suffocating now, even more so than before.

Your heart raced as Daemon put the car in park. His hand remained on the wheel for a moment longer, his fingers curled tightly around it. You could feel the intensity building between you, an electric charge in the air that made it hard to breathe.

He turned to you then, his gaze dark and unyielding, like a storm waiting to break. There was no trace of the calm, collected Daemon you knew—his eyes were filled with something raw, something dangerous. The tension between you thickened, and you felt an unfamiliar pull, a magnetic force drawing you closer to him despite your mind screaming at you to stop.

Daemon didn’t speak at first. He just watched you, his stare heavy and possessive. The way he looked at you, as though he were seeing right through you, made your pulse race even faster.

“You’ve been testing me all night,” he said, his voice low and filled with a hunger you couldn’t ignore. The words were barely a whisper, but they felt like a command. “And now I think it’s time for you to learn what happens when you do.”

His voice, thick with desire, sent a shiver down your spine. The air around you seemed to get thicker, charged with the unspoken need between you. Daemon’s eyes never left yours, dark and intense, as though he was trying to read every thought in your mind.

You wanted to speak, to protest, but no words came. The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could stop yourself, your breath hitched. You were no longer sure whether you wanted to stop or if you were ready to give in.

Daemon leaned in, closing the distance between you, his face just inches from yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispered, “Don’t pretend you don’t want this.”

Every muscle in your body tensed, but you couldn’t pull away. His words, that commanding, dark tone, ignited something deep inside you, something you’d tried so hard to push down.

Daemon’s fingers brushed your chin, lifting your face so that your eyes met his once more. “You’ve had your fun,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “but now it’s my turn.”

The moment his lips brushed yours, everything else ceased to exist. Time slowed, the world outside the car fading into nothing as Daemon's kiss deepened, slow but firm, as if he were claiming you, marking you in ways words couldn't capture. His lips were warm, commanding, and unmistakably sure, and the way he kissed you made your heart race with a mixture of anticipation and something far more dangerous.

At first, the kiss was gentle, a teasing exploration, as if he was testing your reaction.

But as his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, the kiss turned more urgent, more possessive. He wasn't asking for permission anymore. He was taking, and you found yourself unable to pull away.

Your breath hitched as his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you into his chest. The heat between you was consuming, and you felt a wave of desire surge through you, igniting every nerve in your body. His lips moved with a rhythm that felt as if he had been waiting for this moment, and you couldn't help but respond in kind, lips parting slightly as a soft, breathless sound escaped you.

Daemon's mouth was insistent, demanding, and each press of his lips sent a shockwave of heat flooding through you. His kiss wasn't just about passion-it was about claiming you, taking ownership of the space between you, and you could feel it, deep in your bones.

You could feel the tension in his body, his restraint slipping as his hand slid lower, fingertips grazing your side. He made no attempt to pull back, and neither did you. Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit, pulling him closer, as if you couldn't get enough of him.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. You both just breathed in unison, hearts racing, the air between you thick with unspoken words. Daemon's eyes were dark, his pupils dilated, and the look in them was more than a promise-it was a claim.

Before you could fully process what was happening, you found yourself straddling his lap, Daemon's hands guiding you there with a possessiveness that made your heart race. His lips were on yours again, this time with a hunger that matched the intensity in your veins. Every kiss was a mixture of passion and control, his mouth pressing against yours with a force that was almost overwhelming, but you didn't want him to stop.

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. His breath was ragged against your lips, his chest rising and falling beneath you, and you felt the steady, insistent pulse of desire in every movement.

Daemon's hands slid to your back, pulling you even closer, his body hard and unyielding against yours. The feeling of him-so close, so present-was intoxicating, and for a moment, all your thoughts and doubts vanished. There was only him. Only this moment. Only the way his lips moved against yours with a rhythm you instinctively followed.

His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. The sensation of his mouth, claiming, taking, was enough to make your heart pound louder, the world around you growing smaller with every touch, every caress.

You moaned softly, and the sound seemed to fuel him. His hands slid down your body, tracing the curves of your waist before they settled on your hips, urging you closer to him. Every touch sent shivers through you, your senses completely consumed by him.

As your hands worked through his hair, tugging him closer, Daemon growled softly in approval, his lips trailing down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You shuddered at the sensation, your body reacting to every movement of his with a desperate need.

In that moment, everything felt heightened-the way his body felt beneath you, the heat between you both, the unspoken promises in every kiss. Your hands roamed over him, feeling the firm muscle of his chest and shoulders, as if trying to memorize the feel of him.

His fingers brushed against your side, sending a wave of heat through you, and you couldn't help but arch into his touch, the desire surging through you with every second.

His hands moved with purpose, steady and sure, as he adjusted the seat. The sound of the seat reclining echoed in the car, and before you could fully comprehend it, you found yourself leaning back into the now-angled seat, His body moving with you, keeping you close.

His lips didn't leave yours, deepening the kiss, and his hands roamed with greater urgency, his touch both gentle and commanding as he traced the curve of your body. The world outside was a distant memory, the night air and the dark road no longer mattering. It was just the two of you now, caught in an overwhelming tide of desire and tension.

With a swift motion, his hand slid up to your neck, his fingers gently gripping it, not in a way that hurt, but in a way that made you feel tethered to him. He controlled the rhythm, his mouth claiming yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the solidness of him beneath you, the way he held you as if you were the only thing that mattered. Your hands continued their exploration of his chest, pulling at his jacket, desperate to feel more of him, to pull him closer, closer, until there was no space between you at all.

His breath was ragged against your lips, and as his hand moved to your side, you gasped, feeling his touch trail up the edge of your ribcage. He was so close, so in tune with every shift of your body, that you felt as if you were slowly losing yourself in him, consumed by the weight of his attention.

Without breaking the kiss, he moved one of his legs, shifting you even closer, your body now pressed fully against his as the seat allowed for a deeper connection. His hands moved lower, his grip tightening as his fingertips brushed the edge of your clothing, and your heart raced as you knew there was no turning back.

He then lifts you up slightly, guide his already hard cock towards your already dripping core. As he pushed his cock in, the warmth of your walls wrapped around him and the way he stretched you so deliciously made you both moan together.

"fuck, i love it when you squeeze me like this" his hands found your waist and guided you to move your hips, you moaned feeling him fill you from this position. You could feel him all over, his veins rubbing against your walls making you go crazy. you tug his hair as he too started to slam his cock into you, chasing his own pleasure. you feel his warm breath on your neck, kissing you and moaning your name.

He keeps slamming his cock into you, and you move your hips against him to chase your pleasure. You could feel his cock starting to twitch inside you, he growled before slamming his cock roughly into you, making you moan his name.

The you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. indicating that you are about to come, he realizes it because your walls are squeezing him tightly. "come undon for me love" with his command, you let out your release. wetting his cock. then you also felt him cum inside you.

As his lips brushed against yours once more, the kiss was soft, almost tender compared to the intensity of moments before. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling his warmth envelop you. The taste of him lingered on your lips, and the world outside seemed to disappear as the sensation of his touch consumed your every thought.

Daemon’s hands were gentle as he helped you sit back upright, guiding you carefully into the passenger seat. His fingers brushed your skin, lingering just long enough to remind you of his presence, yet not forcing you back into the whirlwind of emotions that had just passed.

"That's enough for tonight, you should rest" His hand reached out slowly, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a tenderness that seemed to contradict the intensity of what had just happened. The touch was gentle, soothing, as if he were trying to reassure both of you in the midst of the silence that hung between you.

As the car rolled up the driveway, the familiar sight of your home came into view. The soft glow of the lights from the front porch illuminated the pathway, and you could make out the figure of your father standing near the entrance, waiting for your arrival. His posture was relaxed, but there was something in the way he stood that made you feel the weight of his gaze.

Daemon slowed the car, eventually coming to a stop in front of your house. The sound of the engine dying down was replaced by the silence of the evening, the only movement being the gentle swaying of the trees in the wind.

Your heart raced slightly as the car came to a halt. You hadn’t fully processed everything that had happened, and now you were faced with the reality of stepping back into the world you left behind for a moment. Your father’s presence, so steady and commanding, was a stark contrast to the whirlwind that had just passed between you and Daemon.

Daemon turned to you, his eyes dark and unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—perhaps a question, a thought unspoken—before he opened the door and stepped out of the car. You followed suit, your heart pounding in your chest, though you couldn’t quite place why.

As Daemon walked around the car, you noticed your father had already taken a step forward, his expression softening slightly as he saw you. His usual composure was still in place, but there was an edge of concern in his eyes, though it wasn’t directed at you. He was waiting, his gaze shifting between you and Daemon as Daemon approached.

Without a word, Daemon opened the car door for you, his hand offering silent support as you stepped out of the vehicle. His touch lingered on your arm for a moment longer than necessary, and you met his gaze briefly, the unspoken tension between you hanging in the air.

Daemon then straightened, turning to face your father. A small, polite smile curved on Daemon’s lips, and without missing a beat, he greeted your father with a casual, but respectful tone, as if everything between them was normal.

“Harwin,” Daemon said, his voice smooth, but there was an underlying layer of something—something heavier between them that neither of them acknowledged directly.

Your father, in return, gave a small nod, though his eyes briefly flicked to you, a question hidden behind his composed exterior. “Daemon,” he replied, his tone equally neutral, though there was a certain weight to it. “How’s everything?”

Daemon’s response was equally measured, and while they exchanged pleasantries, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the conversation hanging in the air, unspoken and layered. There was so much more beneath the surface, but neither of them said it aloud.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @callsignwidow

[mister0ctopus]

apart-mental issues part 2

mini series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: Neighbor JK x Reader

Summary: Just your awkward and embarrassing encounters with your next-door neighbor, Jungkook. This story has three parts.

PART 2 of 3 acceptance is key divas welcome to after hours what can i get ya? cockblock! we should start a podcast handyman buried things avoidance open the door crack mush mush

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Mini Series, Neighbor JK, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 5.9K

a/n: inspired by when i moved to my new apartment and my next door neighbor wasnt jungkook :(

🐙 Masterlist / AskMe

<- apart-mental issues part 1

🔑 acceptance is key

You gave up.

You’d stopped wondering why Jungkook always seemed to catch you at your most awkward.

It was like you were that good at embarrassing yourself, and he was that good at being there to witness it.

But his presence felt significant, not just because he always seemed to be there, but because those moments—however embarrassing—had started to feel oddly comforting, like someone silently rooting for you in the background.

Like that one person you never actually spoke to but who consistently likes all your posts?

Whether it was your latest hallway stumble or your random solo commentary about your grocery list, Jungkook was always there.

Watching. Smirking. Shaking his head.

Avoiding him stopped being a thing. You stopped trying.

It got harder to keep a fixed schedule.

Your classes kept switching between in-person lectures and online sessions as you focused on your thesis.

The apartment building turned into a stage for accidental encounters—hallways, the garbage area, the stairs. You’d exchange hellos, quick chats, banters, and fleeting moments that made you feel less…alone.

Today was no different.

You stepped out of your door, balancing your bag and an iced coffee, only to find him locking his door. His hair was still slightly damp, and he was dressed in an oversized white shirt and jeans.

“Morning,” he greeted, his voice low and slightly raspy, like he hadn’t been awake long. His dimple made its familiar appearance when he smiled, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger for a few seconds.

“Morning,” you managed to squeak, juggling your bag and fumbling with your keys. Your iced coffee wobbled dangerously in your hand.

You knew he was watching you struggle, but you didn’t know he was biting his lip to hold back a grin.

Finally locking your door and securing your coffee, you shot him a glance. “So, what’s the agenda today? More random appliance repairs for desperate neighbors?”

“Maybe,” he said, chuckling as he stepped beside you. “Depends on how many people I see kicking trash bins today.”

You groaned and covered your face with your hands, realizing he’d seen your meltdown. “Okay, that was one time. And it was a moment of weakness.”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Hey, no biggie. We all have our moments. There’s no shame in that.”

A warm feeling spread through you. Too warm. Too comfortable. You rolled your eyes and waved. “Alright, alright. Bye, Jungkook.”

💃🏻 divas

You had a presentation coming up, and, despite years of experience, the fear of speaking in front of people never quite went away.

The thought of standing in front of your class still made your stomach drop. So, you’d been practicing nonstop, trying to memorize the key points to calm your nerves.

By the time you hit the stairs of your apartment building, you were already in full-on presentation mode.

“Speech, speech, agriculture and resource management, speech, speech, inclusive development for a more equitable world—” you waved your hand dramatically as you climbed.

“And that, my dear friends,” you muttered to yourself, “is why we’re taking economics to... to TAKE THE FREEDOM WE DESERVE!” You raised your fist in the air like you were leading a revolution.

When you reached the top, you finished with a flourish, curtsying as though you’d just wrapped up a Broadway performance. “Why thank you, thank you. No time to prepare—it was all impromptu!”

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP

You froze.

Of course.

Jungkook. Standing at the bottom of the stairs with an amused grin plastered across his face, his eyes sparkling like he'd just witnessed the best performance of a century.

You blinked.

You'd grown used to these perfectly timed encounters with him, but that didn't make them any less embarrassing.

So, without missing a beat, you turned to him, giving a dramatic bow, as if the applause was exactly what you expected. “Thank you, thank you,” you said with an exaggerated flourish, playing along. “I couldn’t have done it without my loyal fans!”

Later that night, you found yourself in his kitchen, sipping tea as Jungkook crouched on the floor, sleeves rolled up, intensely focused on fixing your ancient electric fan.

Yes, it was old, but it was salvageable, and the repair was free in exchange for a cup of tea.

“You know,” you said, watching as he tightened a screw, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who willingly fixes things for their neighbors. Is this, like, a secret hobby or something?”

He glanced up at you, lips curling into a teasing smile. “Neighbor,” he corrected. “You’re the only one getting this free repair service. And no, not a hobby. I do this at work—electronic appliances, product development, testing… all the boring stuff.”

"Boring?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow. "No way. Not boring at all. Honestly, I think I should be friends with you, just in case. If you haven’t noticed, I’m basically a walking disaster. I could definitely use a repair guy!"

He laughed, setting the screwdriver down. "Hmm, should I start charging?" He leaned back against the counter, looking at you with a smirk. "So, what are you studying?"

“Just wrapping up my bachelor’s in economics,” you said, taking a sip of tea.

“And working too, right?” he added, tilting his head.

“Yup. Waitressing in the meantime,” you replied with a grin. “So, you know, living the dream. Hot stuff.”

His eyes widened slightly, clearly impressed. “Economics? While working? Wow. That’s… wild. And kind of amazing.”

“Yeah, right?” you replied, playfully tucking your hair behind your ear.

Jungkook’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer than necessary before he cleared his throat and turned back to the fan.

The conversation drifted from school to work to random bits of life—your rambling and his chuckles filling the space.

By the time he finished fixing the fan, you realized you’d been standing in his kitchen for over an hour.

🍻 welcome to after hours what can i get ya?

The next day, your shift started like any other at the bustling bar.

It was a casual spot, perfect for after-work crowds and people looking to unwind.

It was also known for its servers—those who “enhanced the customer experience” with short skirts, crop tops, and a whole lot of upbeat energy.

You adjusted your uniform, the cut highlighting your cleavage and legs. The regulars' eyes already followed you, but you'd grown used to it. It was just part of the job.

Balancing a tray of beers and nachos, you navigated the packed floor with practiced ease.

Then, you turned a corner and—

Jungkook?

There he was. Right in the middle of a group of coworkers, laughing at something one of them had said.

For a second, everything froze. His eyes locked onto yours, and his jaw dropped. He quickly grabbed his water glass and brought it to his lips—only to choke when he fully realized who he was looking at.

You’d told him you worked as a server—you just never mentioned where. Did that matter?

“Are you okay?” one of his friends asked, slapping his back as Jungkook coughed.

You? Completely unbothered. Professional. Cool. Totally unaffected by the fact that your cute, laid-back neighbor was sitting there, staring at you like he’d just realized you had boobs. Or a woman. Not the pale, messy-haired, oversized hoodie-wearing mess you were at home.

“Hi, welcome to After Hours,” you said smoothly, pulling out your notepad. “What can I get for you guys?”

Jungkook’s friends rattled off their orders—beer, nachos, the usual—but Jungkook? He stayed silent, eyes still wide, locked on you.

“And you?” You turned to him, giving him a soft smile.

“Uh—just, uh, a burger,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“Fries with that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, smile never leaving your lips.

“S-sure,” he stammered, those boba eyes wide and a little embarrassed.

“Got it,” you replied, flashing him a full smile. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.” You turned to leave, but you swore you caught him sighing softly as you walked away.

The smirk that crept onto your face was unavoidable. He’d tried to play it cool, but his eyes had lingered just a bit longer. Not that you blamed him. The uniform was designed to get reactions like that, and you knew the effect it had.

Yeah, I look different in my work clothes.

Wait, why are you enjoying this?

When you returned with their beers, you set them down with practiced grace. “Enjoy,” you said, in a rehearsed, flirty voice, flashing another sweet smile before turning to walk away.

As you leave, you heard one of his friends say, “Dude, she’s hot.”

You didn’t catch Jungkook’s reply, but you kept walking. Still, the smirk never quite left your lips.

🍆 cockblock!

The next evening, you were coming home from work, juggling a grocery bag and your tote when you spotted Jungkook ahead of you, walking toward his door. You were about to joke about your brief interaction at the bar the night before, but—

This time, he wasn’t alone.

There she was—tall, gorgeous, and effortlessly stylish. She stood by his door as Jungkook unlocked it, laughing at something he’d said, her hand resting on his arm.

You froze mid-step. Should you keep walking? Turn around? Pretend you’d forgotten something?

Why did you feel so awkward?

Too late. He looked up and saw you.

“Hey,” he greeted casually, flashing you his usual soft smile.

You managed a stiff "hey" in return, offering a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod before bolting to your door like a startled deer.

Inside, you tossed your keys onto the counter, muttering under your breath, “Cute. Whatever. I don’t care.”

But you did.

You stood there, groceries in hand, staring at the counter. What was this feeling?

You couldn’t name it. It lingered, unresolved, like a song stuck in your head but with no tune.

You lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling, bracing yourself for the night. Part of you half-expected to hear the sounds of his obviously better-than-yours sex life drifting in from next door.

Thin walls.

But the night stayed quiet. Too quiet.

The next morning, you bumped into him on your way to class. He was dressed in sweats and a shirt, his hair slightly tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed, a black plastic trash bag in his hand.

“Morning,” he said, offering that small, easy smile.

You hesitated before blurting out, “Thanks for keeping it quiet last night. As you can see, I had to get up early for class today.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, before a grin spread across his face. “Oh, uh... that’s because she didn’t stay long.”

You froze. “Oh…Okay. Well, I hope I didn’t cockblock or anything.”

Jungkook let out a soft laugh, brief but warm. “All good.” His eyes crinkled at the corners, and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you nodded awkwardly and turned to walk away, silently cursing yourself.

“Hey,” he called after you.

You stopped and turned, heart racing for no reason.

“Yeah?”

“Have a good day.” He shrugged, his smile lingering longer than neccesary.

“You too,” you mumbled before hurrying toward the exit. Your cheeks may or may not have been red.

As you walked away, you realized your hands were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it hurt.

Stupid Jungkook, with his stupid bunny smile.

🎙️ we should start a podcast

“YOU THINK I WOULDN’T FIND OUT?!” A loud voice, followed by the unmistakable crash of something glass breaking.

You glanced at the time—7:10 am.

The walls of this building might as well be paper.

Groaning, you buried your head in your pillow. You were free today. No classes. No work. Just sleep.

The yelling grew louder, words like “cheater” and “homewrecker” repeatedly thrown around during the heated argument.

Sleep was a lost cause now. You sighed and sat up, glancing at the clock.

By the time you opened your door to investigate the noise, Jungkook was already leaning in his doorway, a mug in hand, grinning like he was watching a reality TV show.

“Good morning!” he said, raising the mug in a mock toast.

“Ugh! They’re still going?” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes as you heard the voices not backing down.

He shook his head, chuckling. “But free entertainment, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

You’d planned to sleep in, but somehow, you ended up in the middle of the hallway with Jungkook, coffee in hand, both of you fully immersed in the commotion.

You’d nod dramatically whenever someone made a solid point, raising your mug like you were cheering them on, and then pull exaggerated faces every time someone threw out a lame argument. Honestly, this was way more entertaining than staying in bed.

A few hours later, you and Jungkook were on your couch, two empty bowls of bibimbap scattered on the coffee table. You were trading theories about the fighting neighbors. Jungkook’s convinced the third party is someone from within the building.

“Jungkook, where are you getting this idea? Only Murders in the Building? You don’t even watch that show!” you groaned. It’s been hours, and he’s still holding on to this theory.

He leaned in, eyes wide with drama. “I swear I saw the guy in the parking lot at 10 pm last week. He was with a blonde lady who looked like the woman from the first floor. Heavy smoker, big hair, dirty blonde? You know her. They whispering.”

“What if they’re just talking? Friendly talk?” you quipped, not buying his theory because of weak evidence.

“In the dark? Behind a car? At 10 pm?!” He was practically jumping off the couch.

“Well, still! They could be just talking.”

“Whispering,” he corrected. “And about what? Hmm? Recipes? Best day to take out the trash? What’s so important to discuss at 10 pm in the dark?”

He was so invested now, his hands gesturing with full animation.

“Okay, okay, calm down, Perez Hilton. Jeez.” You raised your hand, mock surrendering.

He threw his head back, and you both laughed.

“We should start a podcast. Only Gossips in the Building with Jungkook & YN,” he said, his eyes glinting with excitement.

And just like that, your conversation was a whirl of podcast names, wild theories, and dramatic reenactments.

Hours flew by, with no signs of slowing down.

🔧 handyman

The next morning, you barely managed to drag yourself out of bed for your morning online class, splashing water on your face in a half-awake state. As you reached for your laptop, a knock at the door startled you.

Opening it hesitantly, you found Jungkook standing there, a black repair tool box in hand and a soft smile on his lips.

“Good morning!” he said, his voice a little too cheerful.

“Good... morning?” you replied, eyebrows furrowed. You were too groggy to connect why he, was at your door first thing in the morning.

He gestured toward your living room. “So, I noticed your bookshelf yesterday—half-built, just sitting there taking up space, and, well, I figured you’re home for classes this morning, right? Thought I’d finish it.”

Oh. That bookshelf. You cringed internally as you remembered your disastrous DIY attempt. The instructions had seemed so simple… until they weren't. That was three weeks ago.

“Honestly? I could really use your expert services,” you admitted, stepping aside to let him in.

He chuckled and followed you to the living room. Kneeling in front of the half-built bookshelf, he inspected it with a quick glance.

“My services aren’t free anymore,” he said, deadpan.

You gasped in mock offense. “Wow, already monetizing your skills? How much are we talking here?”

“I’m happy with just a cozy cup of coffee,” he said with a playful smirk, not looking up.

You clutched your chest dramatically. “Oh, thank goodness. Something I can actually afford. Guess I should milk this generosity before you raise your rates, kind sir.”

His laugh was low but genuine as you shuffled to the kitchen.

When you returned with the coffee, you handed it to him like it was a prized treasure. “Here you go. Only the finest instant brew.

He accepted the cup with a quiet “thank you” and focused on the instruction manual you’d abandoned weeks ago.

“I’ll be at the dining table for my lec…” You paused mid-sentence, scanning for your bag when you remembered you still needed to put on some lip tint. You couldn't show up looking like a zombie today for an important class.

Jungkook, still waiting for you to finish, simply stared at you, his gaze soft but expectant.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, distracted. “Just remembered I need to look alive for class today.” You quickly began rummaging through your bag as soon as you found it on the couch, your fingers grazing over everything but the lip tint.

“You look perfect no matter what,” he said casually, not missing a beat, his attention already back on the bookshelf.

Your heart skipped a beat, the warmth spreading across your cheeks as his words settled in. You tried to shake it off, your voice a little shakier than usual.

“Lectures starting soon, so… if you need anything, which I highly doubt, just wave me down.”

You didn’t even look at him when you spoke, but his simple compliment hit you harder than you expected, and your stomach fluttered in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

From your seat at the dining table, you caught glimpses of him—his brows furrowed in concentration, an occasional nibble on his lower lip. Every now and then, his eyes flicked toward you, and you could’ve sworn he caught you staring back at him too.

By the time your class wrapped up, Jungkook had not only finished the bookshelf but had also fixed the lamp that he’d switched on yesterday but didn’t work.

As he packed up his tools, you blurted, “I’m so sorry. A cup of coffee isn’t enough for all this work.”

He shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “It’s fine. I had the time. Besides, I couldn’t just let these things stay broken when they’re easy fixes… they mess with my peace.”

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Mr. ‘I can fix you’ guy. But still..."

An idea popped into your head, and before you could second-guess it, you walked over to the fridge.

“Hey, so, I made pasta last night... It’s not, like, fancy or anything. I was actually craving japchae but, didn’t have the ingredients, so... pasta. Anyway, um, take this as payment? I mean, if you want... It’s not much, but it’s food, so... yeah.” You hesitated, still unsure about offering your cooking. It wasn’t exactly top chef materiall. You offered the container to him.

His smile widened as he took the container. “Pasta works. Thanks. Wow, honestly, I’m enjoying getting paid more than I thought.”

“Good,” you quipped, opening the door for him. “Maybe we can negotiate a discount next time?”

He chuckled, giving a lazy wave as he stepped out. “See you, YN.”

The next morning, when you opened your door to start your day, a paper bag greeted you. Inside was your container, now filled with japchae, and a note:

“I cooked too much last night. – JK”

⚰️ buried things

Slowly, without meaning to, Jungkook became a constant in your life.

Before you even realized it, you found yourself spending more and more time in each other’s apartments, as if it just... happened.

You slowly started making space for each other in the chaos of your busy lives, finding yourselves yapping away at the end of each exhausting day.

You’d talk about the most random and dumbest things—the mundane happenings in the apartment, his annoying coworker that he’d impersonate to perfection, or your professor, whom you were pretty sure was having an affair with one of the faculty staff.

And you’d end up laughing so hard, you’d be on the floor, tears in your eyes.

He’d fix things for you without you asking or pick up on the little things you’d meant to take care of but forgot.

He’d listen to your mindless ramblings. You’d catch yourself mid-story, realizing you had already told him this a million times before—and you’d apologize. But Jungkook would just look at you, smile, and say, “It’s okay, I like hearing this story. Especially the part where you—“ and he'd lean in, genuinely interested in what you said.

It was like he saw all the tiny messes in your life, both literal and figurative, and took care of them because he wanted to. It was just in his nature.

And somehow, you started feeling more and more comfortable talking to him about everything—those random, unfiltered thoughts that flitted through your mind. You didn’t feel the weight of being judged or the worry of being too weird.

You didn’t even know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you started really noticing him. It wasn’t just that he was attractive—though, of course, he was—but there was something beyond that.

You noticed little things.

Like, how good he smelled, that subtle hint of fresh laundry mixed with his cologne. Or how he’d touch his ears when he got shy.

And oh, food! The way he got so dramatic about it. When the food was amazing, his face would scrunch up like he was about to start a fight with anyone. It was like he was angry, but also excited, and it was so ridiculously endearing.

But the one thing you couldn’t ignore anymore is the way his eyes lingered on you. Not in a way that felt strange, but in a way that felt like he saw you.

There seemed to be stars in his eyes, and sometimes they lit up even in the dark, appearing brighter when you smiled.

The things you've buried are clawing their way to the surface, and it terrifies you.

It’s been ages since you allowed yourself to truly feel.

How do you face what’s been hidden for so long?

So, you do what’s easiest, what’s most familiar:

🫥 avoidance

You avoided him again.

This is the best course of action.

When you heard his door open, you’d pause mid-step, holding your breath until you were sure he’d gone inside.

If you were in the hallway when he appeared, you’d suddenly remember something you “forgot” in your apartment and make a quick retreat.

Once, you almost tripped over your own shoes in your rush to slam your door shut. Smooth.

"People can only meet you as deeply as they've met themselves."

And you're not ready to meet yourself at the level life is requiring you to be at.

But Jungkook noticed. Of course, he did.

One evening, there was a knock at your door.

🚪open the door

You hesitated before opening the door, uncertainty gnawing at you. Were you ready for this?

When you did open it, there he was—Jungkook, standing with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes were searching.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, blunt as ever, but his tone was gentle, almost hesitant.

“No,” you replied too quickly, the word almost sounding like a question.

He raised an eyebrow. “Then stop pretending you don’t see me in the hallway. Stop shutting the door before I can say hi. Stop avoiding me.”

You winced, retreating into the safety of your living room. He followed, shutting the door quietly behind him. “I’m not—”

“Sure. You’re just too busy, right?” he said, his voice softer but laced with frustration.

You folded your arms defensively. “I am! Work and school are killing me, Jungkook. I barely have time for myself, let alone anyone else.”

Silence hung between you.

When you finally turned back to face him, he sighed softly. Slowly, he stepped closer, his hands still buried in his pockets as if to keep them from reaching out.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “I just… I feel like you’re avoiding me, and I don’t know why, or if I’ve done something wrong. That’s all.”

You shook your head, unsure of how to respond. Confrontation wasn’t your strong suit, and right now, you felt cornered.

"I’m sorry," was all you could manage.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was heavy, charged. His gaze didn’t waver as it traced over your face, as if searching for some hidden clue. Your heart raced beneath the weight of it.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, his tone serious but gentle. “But you don’t have to do anything about it, okay? I just... I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

You froze.

His eyes held that look—like he was about to spill something that had been bottled up for too long.

You’ve never been good with spilled milk. Do you just wipe it up? What if it’s too much to handle?

Can you just leave it and cry? Panic crept in, and you took a step back.

No no no.

“Jungkook—”

“I like you, YN” he said, cutting you off. His voice was steady, but his hands fidgeted with his thumb, betraying the tension in his body. You caught the slight tremble in his fingers as he continued, “A lot. And I know I wasn’t exactly subtle.”

Your breath caught. “I... I don’t know what to say—”

“It’s okay,” he said, his words softer now, warmer. “I just needed to tell you, because it’s been sitting with me for a while. I don’t expect anything from you. There’s no pressure to respond or feel the same way. I just think…you deserve to know how amazing I think you are. That’s all.”

There it was. Spilled.

You stood there, frozen for a moment, as his words settled around you, your mind scrambling for the right words, but none came. His gaze held yours, patient and kind. He took another step forward, his hands reaching up to gently rest on your shoulders.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. As if he read the questions in your head, he added, “It’s okay. You don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his warm fingers brushing your cheek for just a moment.

You felt a shiver run through you at the softness of his touch and closed your eyes, letting it linger.

“Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

“Okay,” he said, his lips curling into the faintest smile.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel rushed.

You didn’t feel like you had to fix anything, clean up the mess, or even apologize for the things you couldn’t face.

It was enough to just be.

🖤 crack

You feel like dying. No seriously.

Achy, feverish, and barely able to breathe through your nose, you debated ignoring the insistent knock at your door. You know it is Jungkook, who else?

You open the door to find Jungkook standing there, his bunny smile all teeth flashing and eyes crinkling. “Hey, I cooked too much last night,” he says, holding up a huge container. But his smile fades into concern when he sees your state—blanket draped over you, eyes red.

“Wait, are you sick?” he asks, placing his hand on your forehead.

“Yeah, I feel like dying. I’m just gonna sleep it off—”

“You need to eat and take medicine,” he cuts you off as he steps inside.

“Jungkook, I’m literally contagious—”

“My immune system is strong, I’m not gonna get sick,” he says confidently, already heading into your kitchen and rummaging through your cabinets like he lives there.

“What are you doing?” you ask, wanting him to leave so you can go back to bed.

“I’m gonna reheat the food so you can take your medicine,” he says, placing the pot on the stove.

“Don’t you have work?”

He waves you off. “I’m not going in. My strong immune system and I are staying here,” he says with a gentle smile.

You groan, leaning against the doorframe of your room. “You’re gonna get sick too!”

“Nah,” he says, stirring the pot with a ladle. “But if I do, you’ll owe me, and I’ll think of something as payment.”

You blink at him, too sick to come up with a sharp reply. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re stubborn. Now, let’s get you to bed while we wait for your food.” He smiles as he gently guides your shoulder toward the bed.

You obey, mostly because you don’t have the energy to fight him, and watch as he moves around your apartment, reheating the soup and fussing over your blanket situation, saying it wasn’t warm enough.

You sleep the entire day, letting the sickness take over, but Jungkook makes sure you eat, stay hydrated, and take your medicine. He checks your temperature every four hours and places a damp cloth on your forehead.

When you woke up in the middle of the night, you found him curled up on the couch. You noticed he had changed from his work clothes this morning into sweatpants and a hoodie, which was now pulled over his head, his face smooshed into a pillow. His legs were bent awkwardly to fit your short couch, and the blanket you’d thrown over him earlier had slipped halfway onto the floor.

You shuffled closer, your socks muffling your steps. "Hey," you whispered, gently nudging his shoulder.

"Hey," he mumbled, blinking up at you groggily. "You okay? Need something?"

"Yeah.” You smiled softly, trying to keep the laugh from escaping at how adorable he looked, all disoriented and sleepy. "You to not sleep on my couch."

He blinked at you in confusion, his sleepy eyes squinting. "What? Why? It's fine—"

"Just come sleep on the bed with me. Please?" you interrupted, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself to ward off the chill.

He stared at you for a moment, his gaze softening as his lips tugged into the faintest smile. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yes. Let’s go."

His smile widened, and the dim light from the lamp caught in his eyes, making them sparkle. Slowly, he sat up, picked up the blanket from the floor, and followed you to your room.

The bed creaked slightly as he slid under the covers beside you, keeping a noticeable gap between you both. His movements were careful, as though he was afraid to disturb you more than he already had.

"Don’t steal the blankets," you mumbled, already half-asleep again as you burrowed into your pillow.

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he murmured back, his voice so soft and gentle it felt like a warm blanket of its own.

You felt the faintest brush of his breath as he settled beside you, and the space between you seemed to hum with a comfortable warmth.

You drifted back to sleep with a clogged nose and a full heart.

The next morning, when you woke up feeling more like yourself, Jungkook was gone. But there was a neatly folded note on your nightstand, beside a full water bottle and your medicines neatly arranged.

Take your meds on time, okay? There’s food in the fridge for the whole day. Rest up. I’ll see you tonight. – JK

You sat there, staring at the note, feeling your chest tighten in the best way. Like this tiny piece of paper had power over you. And then, like it was nothing, you felt the corners of your mouth curve into a smile.

When you opened the fridge , you find everything prepped and labeled, you couldn’t help but feel flutters in your stomach.

After eating and taking your medicine, you returned to bed. As you settled under the covers, you heard a crack... but you smiled, because it was just the walls you’d built starting to crumble.

♥️ mush mush

Life with Jungkook had become like a well-worn hoodie—cozy, familiar, and easy. It was a rhythm that felt so natural, you sometimes wondered how you’d survived without it. You’d always thought your schedule, your goals, and that thick wall around your heart left no room for anyone else.

But he didn’t just fit into your life. He expanded it, creating space for you to breathe and for himself to occupy every empty corner you hadn’t realized was there.

You learned his quirky habits, and he learned yours.

His laundry hobby (yes, hobby) was a serious thing to him. Jungkook treated it like a sacred ritual, complete with special detergent and fabric softener combos he swore by. “It’s about the clothes-to-detergent ratio,” he’d explain, holding up his freshly laundered Calvin Klein boxers like a badge.

Meanwhile, you’d start one task—say, doing the dishes—and somehow end up reorganizing your bookshelf because, obviously, that was the logical next step. Jungkook would laugh when he caught you confused, gently nudge you back to the original task, or finish whatever you had left undone.

The cooking thing had become a ritual too. You’d started cooking for each other when time allowed—mostly him, though, because he was always willing to cook. So, on your day off, you decided to surprise him with his favorite dish. When he walked in and saw it, his face lit up, eyes wide with genuine surprise.

“Did you make this for me?” he asked, his voice dripping with surprise, his eyes big and bright.

“No,” you shot back, “It’s for the cute guy right next door.”

“Oh, he’s cute? No, no, he doesn’t want to be called cute. He’s hot, right?” He pouted.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a bite, “He’s so hot I’m gonna ride his dick someday.”

Jungkook choked—and you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked at you in wide-eyed disbelief, but his smile was already tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Careful, baby.” He smirked. “That’s a very dangerous thing to say.”

You just kept eating like you hadn’t just said something that made your own insides warm. But your bravado faltered when Jungkook leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your lips.

“You’ve got sauce,” he said softly, wiping it away with his thumb. And then—like it was the most casual thing in the world—he brought his thumb to his lips, licking it clean.

The sound he made was enough to make you press your legs together.

Fucking hell.

Of course, you’d had your moments. The intense, messy, make-out sessions that left you breathless and tangled in each other’s arms. But nothing beyond that. Not yet.

Because Jungkook was gentle. Respectful. Even though you could see the hunger in his eyes, he never pushed. Never made you feel like you were anything less than perfect, even with all your hesitations.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him.

Jesus, have you seen the man? A full-course meal. A body that screams sex, a face that could make anyone write fanfics about him. He could easily be a Calvin Klein model!

But some part of you still felt like crossing that line was final. A seal on something monumental, something with the power to change your world in ways that scared you more than you'd ever admit.

But tonight, as you watched him laugh at your antics and go about his weird little Jungkook ways, you realized something else.

It’s been two months since his confession, and even though he told you he didn’t need an answer, you know deep down that you can’t keep avoiding it.

Jungkook had bared his feelings with such honesty and vulnerability, and even if he insisted he didn’t want a yes or no, you knew better.

Because you knew, deep down, the walls around your heart had fallen…

Crushed, powdered, nothing but dust now.

And as you sat with that realization, you understood something even more profound:

It wasn’t force that shattered them.

It was his gentleness.

apart-mental issues part 3 (wip) ->

a/n: hey <3 if you enjoyed this piece, could you let me know what you liked? it helps me understand what kind of writing i’ll focus on in the future. thanks for your kind words, really really made my heart dance holy shit just realized i have a validation kink aaaah! thanks for reading! -🐙

taglist: @goldietigers294 @ericawantstoescape @kyljjk @daskewl

[kickingitwithkirk]

Christmas Wish

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 1975

Warnings: Some cursing, bit of flangst

For: @starrylanex @spnfanficpond secret santa exchange

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

No Beta-all mistakes are mine

Opening the bar's door, you sigh in happiness as warm air flows outward. While Vancouver wasn’t the coldest place you’d lived, the dampness made it feel worse. Hanging up your outerwear, you make a beeline to the bar and order from the holiday drink menu.

Thanking the bartender, you sip on the Spiced Silver Bell, gazing about, understanding why it’s the SPN cast's favorite hangout when Jared's voice booms over the party noises. “Hey, Y/N! I thought you bailed on us tonight!” Spotting them crowded in a circular booth, you squeeze in next to him, noticing the tipsy flush on his face, “I got stuck doing last-minute ADR thanks to a couple of petulant children on set today.” 

Jared gives an unabashed laugh and slides you a half-filled cup of eggnog when Mark piped up. “Don’t drink that, luv, it’ll put hair on your chest.” 

So, it has finally come: your trial by fire as the newest cast member and that onscreen Christmas gag flash through your mind. Determined to prove you can roll with this crew, knock back the overly rum-laden nog without a flinch. “Damn, sweetheart, color me impressed!” Jensen said, sitting down, draping his arm across the seat back behind you. You grin and hold the out cup, asking, “Please, sir, I want some more.”

****

It’s late into the night, and most everyone is well into their cups (except Mark), sharing what holiday plans they’d made when you felt Jensen’s fingers playing with your hair, making all sorts of naughty ideas about the man you’ve had a crush on for ages run rampant when you realize he’s speaking to you. Your huh response makes him chuckle, “I said your ass is ringing.” You felt his broad hand sliding slowly down your back before dipping into your pocket, retrieving the phone, felt a sudden panic seeing the number and knowing how mischievous Jensen gets when drinking, started wrestling him for it. But it's too late, and in his best British accent, he answers…

“Y/N Y/L/N, wanton sex goddess, with a very bad man between her thighs.”  

Jensen’s eyes widened. He sat straight and spoke most respectfully: “Mr. Y/LN, I...I apologize. Yes, sir, my mama raised me to know better, sir. " Jared was in hysterics, and Jensen flipped him off while handing you the phone. You put on your sweetest voice while glaring at Jensen. “Hi, Daddy! How are you? Give me a sec; I can barely hear you.”

Once outside, you regret not grabbing your coat, feeling Vancouver's damp coldness seeping through your thin shirt, and start to pace back and forth to stay warm. “Can you hear me? Yes, sir, I’m sorry about that. My coworkers tend to get silly after a few. What were you saying? Oh, when do you head out?” 

You’re filled with that particular disappointment you knew too well, having been raised by a single father in the military. Being a brat has prepared you for the life of a working actor, never knowing how long any job would last or where you’d end up next. The downside was that your father often deployed to places you couldn’t go and missed a few holidays, birthdays, and other milestones in your life. 

Peering through the window at the ongoing merriment inside felt a twinge of envy. “Yes, sir, I’m disappointed too. Perhaps we can try again next year. Be safe, love you.” You sit down and locate the information needed to cancel your holiday trip. You must have been outside longer than you realized when a warm coat draped around your shivering shoulders looked up to see Jared's and Jensen's concerned expressions.

****

Jensen had begun wondering what was taking you so long when he walked to the bar front and saw you sitting at one of the outdoor tables, typing on your phone. Shaking his head, he grabbed his coat, knowing Jared would be right behind. Draping the coat on your shoulders, neither could miss the unshed tears glistening in your eyes. Pulling up the other chairs, they sat down with you, and Jensen asked, “I take it your dad's not going to make it?” 

 “Yeah, he got called up for some yada yada. Wouldn’t you know it? The one time I didn't have a backup plan.” Jared frowned, “You canceled the whole trip?” You wave the phone, “Dad was using his military discount for the plane tickets.” You weren't making above scale since you hadn’t been in the business long. “I checked around, but the fees are out of my budget.”

 “So what are you going to do now?” Jensen asks, and you shrug, “I’ll just hang around till hiatus is over.” You miss the look the guys exchange as the three of you return to the bar; you pause. “Do me a favor. Keep this between us. I don’t need everyone feeling sorry for me.” 

Oh, jingle bell,s batman smells

Robin laid an egg

The god-awful singing outside your apartment’s front door jerks you awake, wishing upon the Christmas star that you hadn’t had that fourth eggnog last night; stumbled around the unpacked moving boxes, yanking open the door to find Jensen, clad in an elf hat and ugly Christmas sweater, continuing his off-key caterwauling when you neighbors poke their heads out, scowling as his voice boom out the song's outro.

The batmobile lost its wheel, and the Joker got away!

You hustle him in before awkwardly waving to your shocked-looking neighbors and shutting the door. You close your eyes and slump against it, noticing the guy has become eerily quiet. Cracking open one eye, Jensen, who is more reserved than you or Jared (who literally and metaphorically showed his rear end many times), is blushing to the top of his elfin ears and comments, “Wow, I didn’t know you had a tattoo by your Lady Jane.” Snatching the afghan off the couch, you wrap it around yourself and ask, “If you’re done with classic literature references, mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here?”

“Jared and I got to talking, and we couldn’t let you stay in Van for Christmas by yourself.” You crossed your arms, “And?” He scratched the back of his head, “We umm, well, we rock, paper, scissored to see which of us you’re staying with, and I won.” 

“I can’t believe you guys!” You huff in annoyance, but Jensen sticks out his full bottom lip and makes that pouty face you can’t resist, “Okay, you win. Can I at least know where we’re going so I can pack? What a minute, strike that. I thought you were going home for the holidays?”

“It ended up being more of a couples thing.” Jensen awkwardly says, and you nod, understanding why it’d be uncomfortable with his recent break up with his longtime fiancée. “And Jared bought you some clothes for the trip.” He pointed to a bag you hadn’t noticed, and you groaned, “Oh god, please tell me there’s not a string bikini in there.”

Driving alone with Jensen was a much different experience than you’d imagined. You were used to having an overly hyper-sasquatch in the car. 

But neither felt the need to fill the space with constant chatter, comfortable in each other’s presence; the stretches of silence during the trip weren’t awkward. And sometimes you got a concert for one when Jensen would sing along with the radio. 

Passing through the small, historic town near your destination, you began telling Jensen about visiting a similar place as a child. He asks about the other places you’ve been to, and before you know it, he’s turning into a long drive. 

You glimpse the luxury mountain home in the evening light filtering through the trees. “Holy smokes! You rented this?” You inquired as he parked in front of the three-door garage. “No. A friend of mine is out of the country and lent it to me.”  

Shouldering your duffel, you follow him in and stop in your tracks, taking in the main room (holy moly, it’s bigger than your apartment). Despite its size, it felt homey with its natural woods and rock fireplace all aglow. Jensen bumped your shoulder, “Come on, speechless. Let’s unload the car, then I’ll give you the ten-cent tour.”

The days flew by in a whirlwind. Each one presented a new adventure for the two of you, doing something the other had never done before.

Jensen took you tobogganing, and you got him in snowshoes. You couldn’t stop laughing because he moved like a penguin. You talked him into ice fishing (something he’d never do again because he almost froze his balls off) but made it up to Jensen by cooking the best-steamed trout he’d ever eaten. 

There were trips to the quaint town where he would drag you into all its small shops, shocking you how much he liked shopping. Later, he’d take you to the local pub for warm drinks or dinner if neither of you wanted to cook.

Christmas Day arrives, and after a leisurely morning, Jensen wants to take you skiing, bewildering you, and ask why since you’ve demonstrated how uncoordinated you are when ice skating. Reassuring that he’ll take the easy slopes till you get the hang, you reluctantly agree. Jensen found he needed the patience of Job because your legs kept wobbling like a giraffe,  crisscrossing the skis and landing on your jacksie in every turn. You call it a day after your third run, telling him to enjoy himself, you’ll be in the bar.

Jensen shows up a couple of hours later, worn but happy, and after consuming a warming drink, you head out. When you reach the house, the day spent on the slopes catches up; you notice Jensens not moving too quickly when climbing the steps to the front door and mutually agree it’s time to test out that hot tub on the deck.   

You step out the glass door to find Jensen submerged to his neck in bubbling water. Crossing over, you handed him a bottle of champagne and glasses. You felt his eyes on you as he fiddled with the corkscrew. “Guess it's a good thing you’ve already seen me in the altogether, but remind me to kill Jared when we return.” Before he can ask, you drop it and watch his eyes pop, along with the bottle's cork, at the thong bikini that leaves little to the imagination as you climb in.

Taking the offered glass, you sip on it before sitting it by your head and sinking till the waters over your sore body. After a while, you are completely relaxed and slightly tipsy when the question on your mind slips out; feel Jensen's leg twitch.

”Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked about your broken engagement.” Jensen waves it off, and he responds that she’s the one who broke it because she thought he was seeing someone else. “What? When the hell would you have time? You’re on set at least twelve hours a day, not to mention all the cons.” 

“She was looking for an excuse, thought I should have moved on instead of sticking with some show on a low-ranking network. But I am grateful she did dump me.” You weren’t sure you’d processed what he said correctly, which must have shown on your face.

“I’m free to admit she was somewhat correct. I do see someone else almost every day who makes me want more. And since we’ve had this time to get to know each other better, hoping she’s willing to fulfill my Christmas wish and give my grumpy ass a shot?”

You move to him and, straddling his thighs, wrap your arms around his shoulders. “If you promise not to make me go skiing again, I’ll make all your Christmas wishes come true.” 

[daughteroftheteleri]

A little Christmas gift for you all

Wow guys, I can't believe the year is practically over. I've had such an amazing time on this account, I've made some amazing friends, reblogged so many amazing things from other members of this wonderful community, and received more love and appreciation than I ever expected I would over my fanfics and fanart - thank you, all of you, for this year and warm welcome you've given me to this website. My Christmas gift to you is a bit of festive bagginshield reshirement drabble (with no plot in sight) that hasn't been beta'd but was fun to write:

"Hold still, Uncle Thorin!" Frodo chastised the dwarf below him, who merely grunted in response as he fought to keep his balance with the fauntling perched on his shoulders. "I'm not done yet!"

"I don't know about this," Bilbo stood nearby nervously, wringing his hands. "I'd hate for you to fall, Frodo."

"What, don't you trust me, my love?" Thorin teased, earning him a playful eye roll from his husband. He could see the sassy retort already forming on the hobbit’s lips, but their nephew cut him off with a triumphant declaration:

"There! All done!"

Thorin bent down, allowing Frodo to jump off his shoulders. Straightening up, he nodded in approval at the sprig of mistletoe the little hobbit had tied onto the arched doorway. "Well done. But I believe we should still test it out, right, Bilbo?"

"I certainly think we should," his husband smirked as Thorin pulled him into an embrace. As they kissed, Thorin savoured the moment, taking his time to appreciate the warmth of his one in his arms, the taste of the gingerbread they had made earlier still fresh on his lips. Thorin did his best to ignore the gagging sounds Frodo was making.

The sound of the doorbell pulled them apart, but even without him in his arms, the gorgeous smile that Bilbo shot him filled Thorin with warmth regardless. "That'll be the Gamgees."

Upon opening the door, Frodo immediately grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him away to play in Bag End’s snow covered garden. Thorin left his husband to entertain the other Gamgee family members while he followed the fuantlings outside.

The two best friends were engaged in an intense snowball fight. Thorin was proud to see that Frodo was winning, as he lobbed a projectile at the blond hobbit while his back was turned.

"Ow!” Sam rubbed his head indignantly. “That is not fair, Mister Baggins!”

"Sam, stop calling me that! We're not boring grown ups," Frodo laughed. Thorin lit his pipe, watching the scene unfolding before him with fond amusement. "Call me Frodo!"

"Ok, Mr...um..." Sam stumbled over the words awkwardly. "Mr…Mr Frodo."

"Close enough!" Frodo giggled, and the fight resumed.

The two continued to throw balls of snow at each other until Frodo, his raven hair speckled with white, paused mid throw. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then promptly shut it again, grabbing Sam's hand. He dragged both of them over to Thorin, who snuffed out his pipe, curious as to what inspired Frodo's sudden silence and wide eyed look.

"Uncle Thorin," The fuantling whispered in awe, pointing just beyond the fence. "There's a reindeer here!"

Thorin squinted at the brown shape his nephew was gesturing towards. The dwarf couldn't see well at the best of times, let alone in the gathering darkness of the winter dusk while flecks of snow fell softly down. Carefully, he crept closer, keeping his footfall quiet. Thorin wasn't nearly as good at sneaking as his husband was, (he could admit that), but he could still move with a surprising degree of stealth when the situation demanded it.

The shape grew more defined as he got closer, and a smile tugged at the dwarf's lips. It wasn't a reindeer, but a young faun, with red brown fur and big, nervous eyes.

"It's a reindeer, right, Uncle Thorin?" Frodo's tiny hand had found his own.

"Indeed it is," The dwarf smiled, unwilling to dampen his nephews’s enthusiasm or discourage his imagination. "Come now, it's getting cold. Back inside, the both of you."

They returned just in time to hear the doorbell ring again. Bilbo, returning from delivering cups of hot cocoa to the rest of the Gamgees, exchanged a confused glance with Thorin. They were not expecting anyone else over for yule this year. Before they could wonder any further, a playful shout from behind the door interrupted them:

"Hurry up and open the door, it's freezing out here!"

With a delighted laugh, Bilbo pulled open the door. Thorin couldn't keep the goofy smile off of his face as Fili and Kili piled in and pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned fiercely.

"I thought the road over the Misty Mountains was not safe for you to travel through this year?" Bilbo asked when they had finally separated.

"Pfft! As if a little snow is going to keep us from seeing our favourite cousin!" Kili replied joyfully. "Where's Frodo?"

"I'm here!" Frodo ran into the waiting arms of Fili, who scooped him up and onto his shoulders. "Wait a minute! Aren't I your only cousin?"

Thorin laughed alongside the others before a serene, feminine voice drew his eyes back to the door. "What, do I not get a hug as well, brother?"

Dis stood framed by the doorway, her fur coat speckled with snow and her midnight green eyes sparkling with warmth and affection. Thorin ran to her, pulling her into a tight hug which she returned gratefully.

"I'm glad you could make it, sister," he murmured into her hair. She just giggled, pulling away from him and lightly punching his shoulder.

"Like my youngest said. No amount of snow is ever going to keep us from visiting you during Yule."

"I hope you still have our presents!" Fili joked, Frodo swaying dangerously on his shoulders. Bilbo swatted him away, a faux scowl on his face.

"Drop my nephew and I'll replace them all with lumps of coal," he playfully snapped. As soon as Frodo was safely back down on the ground, Thorin’s husband led their new guests into the lounge, where the yule tree stood proudly beside the fireplace. Everyone began to settle into comfortable chairs around the hearth, save the fuantlings, who sat on the ground playing, and Fili and Kili, who had decided to play with them. Bilbo, noticing that only one person had yet to join them, turned back to his husband and held out his hand expectantly. "Are you coming, Thorin?"

Filled with contentment, Thorin took his hand, lovingly weaving their fingers together. "Of course, Amrâlimê."

[inazuman]

love, pancakes & robots

sae x reader fluff (suggestive) for @pixelcafe-network 's challenge friday!

“What are you doing?”

Looking for you the moment he's up is rare for Sae. It's the weekend, you love to sleep in, and he's usually heavy enough to keep you tucked into him even if you rise first.

“I was trying to make pancakes." There's a set of ingredients to your left, a plate of half-baked and burnt ones to your right…

"Doesn't look like it's working."

He says the comment off-handedly, but you catch that almost-grin of his before he manages to turn away and you shove him, your hand meeting the hard muscle of his chest. He barely budges, but he presses a hand to himself like you knocked the wind out of him, eyes wide with faux-pain that finally has you out of your pancake-making stoop and laughing.

"It's a fancy pancake maker! The one we got gifted, remember? They're meant to pop out perfectly every time."

"Y'know, there's nothing wrong with making them the old fashioned way." He grabs the box to the side, casually flipping it in his hands.

"This is new tech, Sae! New tech! It's supposed to just spit a pancake out at you like a robot!"

"Like that dumpling maker that doesn't actually roll a dumpling together no matter how you put it in?"

You wave your hand. "That's just proof that dumplings need to be folded with hands and made with love."

"Hmm," Sae puts the box down, pours the pancake mix in along with some chocolate chips.

It pops out perfectly.

"You," you stab him in the chest with a finger. "Are a robot whisperer."

"I read the instructions on the box like a normal person."

"I did too!"

"Oh really? You can read? That's surprising." He grips your wrist before you can smack him again, eyeing you playfully like he's just daring you to try, pulling you in until his arms are wrapped around you.

He dips his head to speak softly in your ear. "Maybe the robot just likes me better."

You pull away from him, tapping your hands on his cheeks. "Then the robot is misogynistic."

"A robot with skewed moral values? Governments might start using it for politics."

He spins you around in his arms so you're both facing the pancake maker, where he pours it in again and watches as it chucks out yet another perfect piece. The pure shock on your face has him chuckling into your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"It's alright. I love you enough for both me and the robot."

He squeezes your waist, and you miss his warmth immediately as he moves towards the doorway.

"Hey! Come back here and do the rest, magic robot man!"

"Mm," he makes an act of considering it, tilting his head. "What do I get in return?"

"Outside of chocolate pancakes?"

"You know I don't care about pancakes." He swoops towards you fast and lifts you up by your thighs, placing you on the countertop, hands on either side of you as he leans in. "So?"

"Well," you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in even closer, "what do you want?"

He grips the back of your calves, tipping you until you're lying flat on the counter, looming above you.

"I think it's clear," he tells you in a low tone, "what I want."

"Sae," Heat rushes through you, hyperaware of everything -- how warm his hands are, the cool countertop underneath you, the way his stature is the only thing that makes a position like this even possible.

"Pancakes first, you try to tell him, your heart beating fast in your chest, "or we'll never eat today."

"You sure?" He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, then one higher up, and it has you gripping at his hand.

"We eat at this table."

"Who says that's not what I'm about to do?"

"You're cruel."

this is my first time doing a challenge!! the prompt i was given was: “What are you doing?” “I was trying to make pancakes but it didn’t exactly work” i hope i've done it justice!!

[ravenslady]

Five Stages, Two Talons, and a lost little Crow

****Dragon Age Veilguard spoilers AHEAD, read at your own peril ****

>>> 

Follow up scene with Lucanis and Viago – After “Scents and Grief” and the letter This scene is prompted by what was not shown of the companions during the Regret Prison. Viago is a worried older brother, just do not tell him I said so. My Rook is a nonbinary Crow!Mage!Rook but this scene does not necessarily give any descriptions of Rook, other than their name, so you can inject your own into the scene if that helps you.

>>> 

The sound of the room’s double doors slamming woke him from his depressed slumber.  Darkness flooding his sight as he opens his eyes to the still dimness of the wardrobe and with a brief intake, the comforting perfume slips into his nose and settles into his lungs.  The feathers of the blanket brush against his skin and a crumpled parchment clutched in his hand falls to the floor of the wardrobe as he comes back to himself.  Remembrance dawns for a moment, chilling the brief warmth in his chest.  The void of anguish spreads and Lucanis starts to sink back down as his mind fights the web of miserable exhaustion and emptiness, only to remember that the loud sound of the double doors slamming woke him.

“Where the Maker are they!?” booms an angry voice laced with deeply seated fear and worry.  The familiar and irritated lilt of Viago’s voice travels through the stone chamber and bounces off the aquarium glass, barely muffled by the wardrobe doors.

Lucanis cannot seem to muster a mood to deal with Viago in this moment and Spite uses the lack of response from Lucanis to jump to the fore, responding with irritation and unkindness, “GET. OUT!”

Lucanis rolls his eyes, and directs a thought at Spite, thanks for that, pissing off Viago is not the best idea…especially when we failed to tell him what happened to Rook...

Spite seems to catch on this thought and tilts his head, NOT GONE. ROOK IS OURS; WE WILL FIND THEM. ADDER’S MUSTACHE CAN WAIT.

Lucanis goes to respond when the doors of the wardrobe are furiously pulled open, the flood of watery shimmering light from the aquarium casts a tint of greenish-blue into the dark cupboard, an enraged Viago speaking with clipped tones as he attempts to bodily drag Lucanis into the room, “Hiding Dellamorte? Answer me!” Viago is speaking through clenched teeth and the grip he manages on Lucanis’ gear feels like claws dug into flesh.

Lucanis’ emotional reserves may be numbed to the point of oblivion but his instincts are well honed and the hostile way that Viago is demanding Lucanis answer to him allows the cool exterior of indifference to slide into place as the innate need to defend himself and his safety takes hold.  Lucanis surges forward from his nest and uses the offset of Viago’s footing to push up and out of the wardrobe while grabbing the forearms of the raging Fifth Talon.  Viago senses the shift and tries to throw his mass to reorient the balance and allow Lucanis’ sprung energy to overbalance him.  In the same instance Viago attempts to drop his weight, Lucanis anticipates the use of encumbrance for leverage, feeling himself cross the center line and performs a slight spin to disengage, freeing his hands of Viago’s forearms and preparing for a more concerted response.

“Where are they, Dellamorte!?  Where is my…Rook?!” Viago seems to strain to contain an emotional reaction as he yells the final question and Lucanis makes a quick assessment, seeing the always brooding but usually composed Viago breathing irately; a wild look about his features.

Lucanis immediately disengages and holds up his hands, stepping just out of range. “Viago, I…” he responds with a stripe of shame and guilt seeping into his voice.

“Don’t you fucking dare!  Where is Rook?  And don’t you fucking say what you almost said…where is Fae!?” Viago steps forward, pressing the advantage, fear and anger mixing in his voice as he fights for some semblance of control to get an answer. An answer that does not involve apologies.

“They…were…pulled into the Fade…” Lucanis starts to explain, the guilt and the weight of his emotional decline is evident in the way his voice drops in timbre, almost breathy as he forces out words he has not wanted to say.

“And when in damnation were you going to tell me that a member of my House was in the bloody Fade? Were you going to leave me to wait obediently in Treviso without a single word?!” Viago continues to advance, though his shoulders are dropping as if a weight is dragging him past composure.

“We…I do not have answers. They were there…one moment…the next they were not and they cried my…” Lucanis swallows and stops then, unable to say more without losing face. “I was going to come to Treviso to tell you, to tell you to your face.” Lucanis almost pleads, the mask of the assassin’s calm drawing back to reveal a haunted expression.

Spite circles Viago, stalking and observing him. SMELLS LIKE POISONS…AND…ROOK. He seems perplexed by this and tilts his head like a bird, assessing the rumpled look of Viago’s hair and the puffiness of the skin below his eyes. DROWNED IN ANGER AND GRIEF. Spite steps closer at this point, knowing Viago cannot see or hear him.

Spite, back away. Viago is Fae’s teacher, their older brother of sorts. Do not push him. Lucanis mentally tries to pull Spite away from Viago.  Watching the man absorb the response.

Viago sees the strain on Lucanis’ face and the pieces of fragmented information starts to paint a saddened expression of understanding and commiseration, “Who and what do I have to kill to get them back…is there another of these so-called gods that we need to sacrifice to bring them home?” Viago looks directly into Lucanis’ eyes, the wheels of negotiations and plans already churning in his mind.

Lucanis hesitated for a moment, not knowing the right answer and after their little breakdown last night, he was not currently apprised of the battle plans or developments from the rest of the team.  He knew Emmrich had been formulating some theories; Neve as well.  Harding and Taash had immediately started reaching out to their contacts and network.  The loss of Davrin and Assan, and the capture of Bellara had not even been discussed, everyone avoiding the subject all together.  The team had been in shock, disassociated from the reality of their losses when they had mercifully escaped Tearstone Island following the firestorm that Elgar’nan had kicked up in response to the slaying of Ghilan’nain.

Viago looks at him in anticipatory silence, Lucanis shakes off his hesitation and responds with a voice of surety he is certainly not feeling, “Let us go down to the kitchen table, we can put on coffee and discuss with everyone our strategy going forward.” Lucanis steps forward then and places his hand on Viago’s arm, redirecting him with very little effort toward the doors.

“We will get them back Viago. We must.” Lucanis promises, not entirely to Viago, not allowing acceptance of anything less.

WE WILL. Spite affirms, settling into Lucanis with purpose and determination.

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 9

Blake: *glaring daggers at Jaune*

Ren: ... Jaune, what did you do?

Jaune: *shrug* I stated the obvious. *Point to the cat ears* It's not like she even TRIED hiding her identity. *Doing a little wave at her, with a smile*

Blake: *looking furious*

Ren: ... But why the antagonisms?

Jaune: If i told you it keeps her from thinking about running away from here, you'd believe me?

Ren: ... Does it have anything to do with what happened at the docks?

Jaune: ... No?

___________________________________________

Team RWBY: *arriving at the docks after Blake was "forced" to explained her backstory to her team*

Blake: What the-

Jaune: *speaking with one of the White Fang which is already in handcuffs* Oh don't get me wrong, i don't like the SDC one bit, but-

Ruby: *perplexed to see her friend here* Jaune?

Jaune: *turning to see them* Oh, hey gang!

Yang: *looking at the bunch of White Fangs being arrested by the police* What... Happened here?

Jaune: *shrug* They tried stealing a shipment of Dust. And hey, i'm the first person to say that the SDC suck-

Weiss: Hey!

Jaune: *smiling* Weiss, your father is the main reason why Vacuo is dirt poor. And they refuse to send dust to Menagerie.

Weiss: *pointing at the faunus on the ground* Because of them!

Blake: *frowning at Weiss*

Weiss: *rolling her eyes* The terrorist, not the faunus.

Jaune: *taking a pamphlet from his pocket* Actually, the embargo debuted BEFORE the White Fang was even a thing. So it's totally because of segregation, Weiss.

Weiss: B-but-

Jaune: *cuting her with a smile* Anyway, that's not important for now. What's important is that the situation was de-escalated and that nobody was hurt.

Blake: How!?

Jaune: ... I called the authorities? *Shaking his head* Blake, they are civilians, not trained soldiers. Heck, it wasn't even hard to explain to them that if they cooperated, they wouldn't be tried as terrorists, but as thieves.

Black: *who had a "perfect" speach ready* Uh!?

Grunt: ... He also knocked out most of our heavy hitters while WALKING to them with a smile. And we were shooting him! So uh... Yeah, we aren't dealing with that.

Yang: That's badass.... *Smirk* And frightening.

Jaune: *Sigh* It also hurts like a bitch. *Chuckle* I wouldn't recommend it. *Picking up one of the guns* The only reason it worked was because they were using subsonic ammunitions of 9mm.

Grunt: *sigh* The guy, Roman, said it was for discretion. If it wasn't of that, we would have been fine.

___________________________________________

Ren: You did steal her moment, no?

Jaune: *shrug* Meh, it's not like that's going to be the last time... Also, duck.

Ren: *perplexed* Duck? *Get hit behind the head by a creampie Blake tried to throw at Jaune* !?

Silence in the cafeteria

Nora: *jumping on the table* I'LL AVENGE YOU! *Throwing a fish at Yang by mistake* Oops...

Yang: *her semblance activating with a grin* FOOD WAR!!!

___________________________________________

Velvet: *under a table with Coco and Russel* You want Coco expertise?

Russel: Yeah!

Coco: ... Your team did bully V, why should i help you?

Velvet: *frowning* Coco, Russel's a good guy. And even the rest of his team aren't really that bad. *Sigh* Cardin was mainly angry because the white fang kept attacking his mother's store.

Coco: ... *Sigh* You are too good, V. *Looking at Russel* What do you want?

Russel: W-well, i-

Dove: *taking cover* Oh, hi you Velvet. You were still interested in coming to the arcade with us?

Velvet: *smiling* Hey Dove and yes! But i was wondering if my team could come?

Dove: Don't see why not. *Cardin falls next to him* Hey big guy, Velvet wants to know if she can bring her friends with her to the arcades?

Cardin: *shaking off the food from his head* Uh? *Looking at Velvet with a slight blush* Oh uh, yeah, sure. *Picking up a plate as a shield, going back into the melee*

Dove: *looking for a "weapon", picking up a breadstick and following his leader*

Coco: uh... They do seem a lot nicer. *Looking back at Russel* So back to my help.

Russel: *picking up invitations to a nice restaurant from his pocket* W-well i was planning to ask my girlfriend out, but i don't really have anything nice to wear and-

Coco: Say less, i'll help you out.

Russel: *smiling* Thank you! Now if you excuse me *picking food for the fight* My team needs me! *Leave the cover to follow his friends*

Coco: ... By the way, the big guy totally has a crush on you.

Velvet: Pfft, Cardin? That's ridiculous!

Coco: Uh-huh, if you say so.

[dollfacefantasy]

hey silly

question: how we feel about the idea of Leon or Carlos making their partner come for the first time ? (Like it's literally their first time ever. Ever ever)

Love you

hey yourself <3

first of all, i think both of them would be kinda appalled you’ve never cum. like not mad at you, but just upset on your behalf. you’ve never gotten to experience one of life’s most blissful feelings. so when you’re comfortable and ready, they’d be more than eager to give you that.

for leon, a certified munch, he’d make you cum using his mouth. you’re super shy at the start. you’ve never experienced something so intimate before. but he calms you down. he kisses up your inner thighs and rubs the outer skin of your legs with slow strokes. you watch him work down there, and when he finally, licks your cunt, his eyes look up into yours. his lips lock onto your clit, sucking away before the tip of his tongue traces little shapes onto the swollen bud. it doesn’t take long before you’re clutching his hair and throwing your head back. every little whine you make has his cock kicking in his pants. he slowly grinds himself against the mattress, groaning against your folds. you get squirmy and try to wriggle away, but his hands grip you tight and tug you closer, keeping his face buried against your cunt. “ah ah, let yourself feel good sweetheart,” he mumbles, “trying to make you cum all over my tongue.” when you do finally reach your peak and see stars, he keeps lapping at you all through it. he teases the idea of overstimulating you before pulling away and smiling. he kisses your cunt once more before crawling up your body to check on you and then make both of you cum together.

for carlos, he’d lay by your side, holding you close to him. he has his head right next to yours where he can speak into your ear and kiss your neck. his hand starts by groping your breasts. he squeezes them and rolls your nipples between his fingers. it’s a warm up, getting you wet before his hand ever ventures south. when it finally does, he starts by toying with your clit. the rough pad of his finger swipes back and forth. he chuckles at how your legs can’t hold still. “feels better than when you do it yourself, doesn’t it baby?” he murmurs. after you nod, he works faster and holds you even closer. he nuzzles and kisses at your throat. “that’s right. you just need me to take care of you,” he coos. when you start to get closer, he finally slides two of his fingers down to your entrance and works them inside. you grab at his bicep, bucking your hips. he pumps them in and out with skilled precision. it takes a matter of minutes to make you finally cum. once you do, he’s praising you and kissing your lips, fucking you through it and telling you how you’re so perfect for him, his sweet girl. when you’re all done, he pulls his fingers out and licks them clean. it’s just the start though. you’re soaked enough to cum on his cock now <3