#they’re just escaping me rn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dipperscavern · 2 months ago

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jon snow brainrot rn.

like imagine finding him after the whole thorne execution, post-death and post-revival

i need to hold him so bad🙁🙁 in spite of the horrid crawl of his skin, hair at his nape standing on end, urging him avert his gaze as you approach, he can't help but seek your soft stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. and his heartbeat is quickening, and his breathing grows sharp

his hand trembles and no matter how desperately he tries to hold fast, he crumbles when you near, raising a hand to his cheek; warm and soft and tender. his breath hitches violently in his chest and his head falls to the crook of your neck, his silent sobs disrupting the quiet with small soundless gasps

and you hold him close, with a gentleness he deserves that he'd never before recieved, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back as he helplessly leans his weight on you to finally release the overflow of agony he'd all but drowned in 🙁🙁🙁

SWEET BOY, I NEED TO HOLD HIM💔💔

SONGBIRDS — JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x fem!reader, 3.1k words

synopsis: the ask above <3

authors note: ouh this was a rough one! i did in fact steal sentences from this ask, so thank u anon!! i love u!! become a writer!! thank u to my febu frongers @useralba & @eldrith for helping me not lose my sanity over this, love y’all!! enjoy i guess 🙄(if possible) (i’m gonna be quiet now)

SNAP

you’re brought out of your thoughts with a jolt, startled so badly you near fall out of the tree you’ve found sanctuary in. that doesn’t sit well with you, you’ve always been steady.

so was bran, a small voice whispers. so was he, another part of you agrees — and the one it mentions has naught to do with climbing.

was, your mind echoes bitterly. it seems like everyone who once surrounded you is only that anymore, a was. a whisper of the past, faces seen nowhere but in living memory; and now, he has joined them.

fresh tears roll down your cheeks, and you wipe them as soon as they join the conversation of grief. bitterness — mourning — desperation, all cradling you at once.

you readjust your form, limbs beginning to fall asleep from the tight position they’re in. if only you could do the same. it seems the gods have deemed you unable, as every time your eyes droop, you see the face of the lord commander.

the mere thought of him is paining, and the sight of him was entirely too much to bear. so much so that you fled, the memory squeezing uncomfortably at your chest.

his eyes, once ever-expressive, dulled to nothing but an expressionless saccharine blur. lips parted, yet no air being brought in to fill his lungs. the snow beneath him was stained a bloody crimson, and you can almost feel the familiar cold of the icy ground beneath your knees as you kneel beside the form of the man you love.

at first, you had cried. whispering pleas to whomever would listen, clutching any part of him you could reach — you had even attempted to stop the bleeding. stupid, stupid girl.

then, it seemed to occur to you that you were touching death. slowly removing your hands, looking down at the lifeless body of jon snow. and just like that, repulsion had entered your veins. no — rejection.

you rejected this. you rejected death, you rejected the finality you had been dealt. you had stood, clutching your bow, arrows lightly jostling from the movement. hunting.

you had been hunting while jon was dying.

if only time had dealt you a mercy, perhaps you would’ve made it back in time. to save him, or just to say goodbye, you’re not greedy in your wishing.

you glance to your hands, still stained with his blood. suddenly, your eyes flutter shut as you see the image of his body again — his wounds smoking in the cold nights air. it feels like a lifetime ago. rejection has long since abandoned you, leaving bitter acceptance in its wake.

you blink, eyes threatening tears, and your gaze finds the white and red blur of a weirwood tree. you return to the woods to escape, yet the gods find you anyway; what cruel mockery.

how could they, yet again? don’t they see all you lose? they must, you think, as they’re the ones who keep taking. is that the only joy a god may find? maybe now, that’s why you hunt; to send them a life as sick compensation for the one they took. what an acidic dance.

CRACK

this time, when a twig breaks, you are not so foolish as to think it only by coincidence. you aren’t the only hunter out here — yet you did not think to find yourself as prey.

whatever stalks you is enough to bring you out of the cynicality of grief, snapping you into a different mindset. though previously unsure how much more you can withstand, your body proves otherwise, flawless in its transition and execution.

you heart increases its rhythm, surefire in its performance, allowing extra blood flow and oxygen to be pumped to your aching muscles. your breathing changes, now quick and rapid breaths to take in more air which prove effective as you shift yourself from your sitting position.

you had chosen not the tallest tree, but the thickest and most concealed. it gives more room for stability, allowing you to exercise your position; a small decision you now are thankful for as you move forward, outstretching yourself on its thick limb to try and catch glimpse of whatever it is that seeks you.

unfortunately, the concealment that hides you does its job too well. you try to peer through the branches and leaves for what feels like ages, but they prove too thick. you curse under your breath, withdrawing from the branch to retreat back to the trees trunk once more.

closing your eyes, you listen. the gust of wind, the rustling of leaves, a raven cries in the distance. you wait.

there — your ears are graced with the light chirp of birds, in your own tree and in others nearby.

“If danger is near, the birds don’t sing.”

ned starks voice rings through your ears, so loud and clear that for a moment, you almost lose concentration. if asked why, you’d never be able to directly say why your eyes didn’t snap open, why your head didn’t swivel around, looking for the source of the voice you’ve heard. can you and the gods share a secret, if it’s one they decide not to include you on?

as the melody of songbirds continue, you shift to begin your descent.

in any other scenario you would stay in the tree, concealed by its branches until the threat was certainly gone. but things are different. jon is dead — you seek a fight. (do you, or do you refuse to allow the stranger your soul as well?)

the decision made, even in grief, isn’t a rash one. whatever it is isn’t nearby enough to silence the singers, and this may be your only window of opportunity to flip the coin; restoring yourself as predator, not prey.

your feet hit the ground, and you wince at the noise made. it’s midday, so you cannot hope for nightfalls rescue of concealment.

you pause, peering around you while you allow yourself a moment to think. your hunting grounds have always been the forest that surrounds castle black, and you had retreated to the very edge of it. your hunter has come from the north — funny enough, from the direction of castle black itself. if you’re careful, you can make a loop back east, foregoing your usual trail. swallowing your nerves, you begin to move your feet.

your senses are heightened, alike to how they are in battle, but this is different. instead of blood pulsing in your ears, they’re attuned to every sound, no matter how minuscule. the smell of blood and death is replaced by nature, the scent of oak & pine leaves fighting to not be smothered by the cold.

you don’t make much progress before you turn a corner and yelp in surprise, being met with a hulking figure, red eyes boring into you.

“Ghost—!” you shout; in surprise, frustration, and relief all at once. your breathing heavies, heart now beating wildly, ready to supply you should you need to run at a moments notice. then, somehow, you’re smiling. you smile at ghost, at the birds, who didn’t notice him enough to quiet themselves, and the childness of it all. you kneel, shouldering your bow and outstretching an arm.

ghost seems like he’s been waiting for your action, stepping forward immediately. you register his willingness — had he been searching for you? or did he find jon dead and left, as you did, finding you accidentally? if only he could speak; the phantom of a thousand words.

he’s soft under your hands, a small comfort parading in the wake of sad relations. and suddenly, you feel guilty. how long has ghost been by jon’s side? how fierce, the loyalty the direwolf has shown him? how fierce the devotion jon had shown him in return? he mourns alongside you, grief arguably more substantial, as he was given no explanation. how could he understand such matters?

an idiot thought, you're quick to push it away. you both have every right to grief, there is more than enough to go around.

eventually, ghost pulls away, and begins padding in the direction to castle black. you think he means to be solitary, but after a few paces, he stops, turning to look back at you. expectant.

though your breath hitches and grief nags at you once more, you swallow it down, and begin to follow the only remnant of jon snow — a piece of him that the gods saw fit to leave you. what cruel mercy, coming from the same hands of injustice.

though content to wallow in your anger, your disbelief, you refuse to allow the direwolf to return to castle black alone. strangely, the farther you follow him, the more you get a sense of deja vu. it can’t be more than a few minutes before you see a tree with bark missing, torn off and left bare its left side, which is now your right. a mark you had left to remember your trail. ghost has tracked your scent from castle black.

with the realization arises conflicted feelings, as if they can’t agree on how you feel. loyalty rings faintly in the back of your mind, the things done for love.

you forcibly close your mind, numbing yourself as to be fully in the present. you’ll have the rest of your days to dwell on it; but only now are you here, in the company of trees and wolves and birds, oh how they sing.

and suddenly, the melody is quiet.

time itself has been stopped, halted in its tracks. there’s no rustling of branches, of leaves, no sound of birds, no sound at all — the world has become inaudible.

you and ghost mirror each other in the ways you both lurch to a halt. a sick feeling infects your gut, hairs rising on the back of your neck, and the instinctual need to flee almost takes over. but something keeps you there, rooted to your spot, feet unmoving. what anchors you, is another secret between you and the gods; another peculiar joke that you stay the punchline of.

then, after a moment, a gust of wind graces the forest. it blows your hair, rustles through the trees, and almost hesitantly so, the birds begin their song again. ghost looks back at you, surveying as if this is the first time he’s seen you.

he begins to lead the way once more, but a thought still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re unable to shake off the unease in your gut. what has dismantled the harmonious balance among living things so?

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

he wakes with a gasp.

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

it must be hours later when you approach the gates of castle black. one of the guards on watch takes notice, shaking the other awake. as they both stare down at you, you wonder.

are they close enough to see the mourning that rests forefront on your face? were they the same men who opened the gate for you upon your return last night, only to do the same thing minutes later after you found jon? do they feel guilty? should you?

the wooden gates protest opening, loud creaks and groans as it gives you access, and at first, you don’t see it.

at first, you walk in, and your gaze is trapped on the ground, lost in thought. you’ve come back empty handed, as you came back to jon — or rather, his body. but you don’t think anyone was expecting a stag draped across your shoulders. amidst the unexpected.

when you finally do look up, you’re startled for the ? time today. four men hang in the middle of the courtyard.

you stop in your tracks, but this time, ghost pads on ahead of you. he stops not for anybody, curving them all to fair left. the direction to jon’s chambers.

you don’t have long to dwell on the wolfs mistake, as peoples eyes find your frozen figure. among them, friends; edd, grenn, pyp, others you don’t recognize. some, not dressed in black. wildlings. you begin to walk forward, and a tall, ginger bearded figure spots you. tormund walks to meet you, an expression on his face unreadable — unable to be identified by your tired eyes.

confusion — surprise — apprehension — curiosity; all fight for their seat at the forefront of your mind, but they’re forced to share.

as you and tormund find each other, you glance past him at the hanging men. then to your left, expecting to see ghost still scratching at jon’s door — but he’s not there. was he shooed off? did you misread his intention?

“I don’t— what’s…” you start, but don’t finish. how could you even begin?

tormund reaches for you, hands settling on your biceps. whether he’s keeping you in place or checking for injury, you don’t think you care. the weight and warmth of the gesture is welcomed.

“Tormund, you’re scaring me—” your admission wouldn’t usually come so easy, but you can’t be bothered to guard yourself. you’re exhausted, your muscles are stiff, you’re confused, and you hurt.

he only turns you toward jon’s chambers, pointing, a hand on the small of your back. “In there, little bird.” he says, and you wish to tell him what a help he is. but you don’t. for some reason, you bite your tongue, sparing a last glance at him, before slowly making your way over.

all of the eyes on you make you nervous, and frustrate you all the same. why do they all act like they’ve seen the father?

it doesn’t take long for you to reach the door, curiosity guiding your step. you see ghosts muddied paw prints on the wood, but they don’t turn left or right — ending at the chamber door. your brows furrow almost instinctively. you can’t help but linger on the thought, setting your bow & arrows to lay nearby; your shoulders welcome the reprieve. with bated breaths, you push on the wood, stepping inside. what you find is beyond even your wildest imaginations.

what you find is jon’s head turning to look at you, and you can’t help the sharp inhale of air you take.

his bottom half is clothed, but his upper is uncovered, torso wrapped in bandages; covering the stab wounds that you know took his life.

you think him a hallucination, mind willing his fate to change so desperately it has conjured up its own delusion. but you glance to ghost, dutifully curled by his feet, and shift to turn, looking at the paw prints that led you here.

you turn back to (jon?), closing the door behind you. while your own flickers to ghost once more (an affirmation), jon’s gaze remains fixed on you. you inch closer, surveying him.

his eyes, now encasing life — not quite the same as you knew, but life nonetheless. lips, parted, as to suck in air to fill his lungs. lungs that in return, work in correspondence with his heart, beating to keep him alive.

no. this can’t be…

but it is.

he’s rigid — uncomfortable, yet a part of him fights to relax in your presence. how can it all be so unbalanced and so right all at once? you’re here. you’re all he’s ever wanted. but a part of him keeps him withdrawn, fighting him on reaching out for you.

perhaps it’s the horrid crawl of his skin, urging him avert his gaze as you approach. even so, he can't help but seek your gentle stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. you see it as you close in — the turmoil within himself.

a different part of him wins, and he reaches for you. you’ve been waiting, it seems, and reach for him with equal fervor. his hands are cold on your waist, strikingly so. your eyes widen, disbelief written on you like ink on parchment.

you had not expected to feel him. no, you expected for him to vanish underneath your very fingertips.

one of your hands find the bare skin of his torso, experimentally reaching out. jon is hungry for your touch, offering any part of himself for your taking. he has craved you desperately ever since he awoke.

he watches, patient as you register the warmth underneath your hand. there’s blood circulating through his veins. your pupils blow wide in the realization.

you’re anxious for more assurance, your right hand moving to his forearm to keep him in place (jon wouldn’t dare to move), as your left finds his chest. specifically — the part of his chest that keeps safe his heart. you feel it beat underneath your palm, and your reaction is immediate, eyes fluttering shut.

if he didn’t want to be touched, jon would’ve shied away from you by now. but he hasn’t. no, his eyes bore into you with the attention only divine beings receive

jons breathing heavies in anticipation, expectant. he gauges every ounce of your reaction, waiting for your evaluation of him — as a sinner would their god. is he worthy? do you deem him so?

when your eyes open, something clicks into place. jon is here, in the now, alive and breathing; your fingertips said so themselves. you don’t know how, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much in the present, not when you finally have him in your hold once more. what you would’ve given for this, hours ago in your tree. what wouldn’t you have given?

and now, your eyes roam over every part of him, drinking in all that you can. your gaze trails fast, mapping the expanse of his shoulders, down his arms, to his torso, across his bandages again.

your hand removes itself from his chest, only momentarily, but jon chases your touch all the same. you can’t bear to leave him wanting, sliding a hand up his shoulder, feeling the lithe muscle beneath it. you’re desperate to ground the feeling of him, to commit it to memory — and jon seems equal in his need.

you hand stops it’s ascent when it reaches his neck, cradling the juncture of it, thumb smoothing over the soft skin of his cheek, as you meet his gaze. your touch is warm and soft and tender, and in an instant, his eyes are watery. the hands on your waist tremble, and his breaths turn shaky in an attempt to hold himself together. his brows pull together, and his breath hitches violently in his chest. something stirs in you at the sight, the expressions of a broken man.

jon has passed your test of realism with flying colors, and when he realizes, he crumbles.

his head falls to the crook of your neck, closing the small distance between you. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, and jon’s immediate in pulling you closer — as close as you can get. the tears begin their flow easily, releasing the buildup of emotions harbored from death snaring & absolving him; akin to poison swallowed and retched before fully digested.

your touch is gentle, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back. he leans himself into you, almost helplessly so, as if he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. you accept his weight with open arms. if jon was asked why he fights so desperately, even in times it seems hopeless, he would say to repay the gods for their gift to him; you.

the only things that disrupt the steady quiet that surrounds you are his silent sobs, accompanied by the small soundless gasps that flow from his lips as a river of melancholy.

his grip is tight; he drowns in a vast sea of agony, and you alone are his anchor.

#dippys asks #game of thrones #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #nobody pay attention to this #this never happened #i need a cigarette

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kayewrite · 2 months ago

Text

WRONG IDEA RIGHT?!!

jeongin x reader!! prof jeongin x prof reader!! word count: 5k

genre: fluff, humor and..

summary: it started with a misunderstanding rumor, then a mess happened to professor yang's life.

an: I mean.. our maknae on top was always foine but seeing his instagram posts rn?? i cant help but to.. guys please read this!! this was too fun!!ps. im really sorry for being inactive! im not foine at all but im trying to be foine!!

Jeongin spotted a mosquito on your cheek as you were passionately explaining something. Without thinking, he raised his hand and—

“Pak!” The sound of the slap reverberated through the room as Jeongin’s palm connected with your face.

He blinked at his hand, confused. “Huh, it got away…” he muttered under his breath, completely ignoring the fact that you were now staring at him, clutching your stinging cheek in utter disbelief.

A thick, suffocating silence fell over the classroom. Every student had frozen mid-action, eyes wide, mouths open, not daring to breathe. Even Professor Yang, who had been explaining a diagram at the front, stood there with his pointer mid-air, looking as if someone had just dropped a bomb in the middle of his lecture.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, trying to piece together what just happened. Finally, through gritted teeth, you managed to stammer, "Why… did you slap me, Professor Y-Yang?"

A wave of shocked whispers exploded across the classroom.

“Oh my god, did Professor Yang just slap Professor (Y/N)?!”

“No way! That’s gonna be on the news for sure!”

“Do you think they’re secretly dating?!”

One girl gasped dramatically. “Did he dump her in front of everyone? OMG, is this a public breakup?”

Meanwhile, Jeongin stood there, his brain completely short-circuited. He had messed up. Badly.

Before he could open his mouth to explain, Principal Lee suddenly appeared, yanking Jeongin by the arm. "Professor Yang, we need to have a word. Now."

"W-Wait, I can explain—" Jeongin sputtered, but Principal Lee wasn’t having any of it and practically dragged him out of the room.

And just like that, you were left standing there, cheek still throbbing, while the rumor mill went into overdrive.

Later that evening, determined to clear the air, you stormed over to Jeongin’s house.

“JEONGIN!” you bellowed, bursting through his front door without even knocking. “Where are you?!”

A muffled, panicked voice came from somewhere in the house. “I-I’m not here!”

“You idiot, I can hear you!”

You found him crouched behind the sofa, wide-eyed and frantically searching for an escape. The moment he saw you, pure panic flashed across his face. Without missing a beat, he bolted for the window.

“OH NO YOU DON’T!” you screamed, lunging at him. Grabbing him by the back of his shirt, you yanked him down before he could launch himself out the window like some kind of fugitive.

The next thing you knew, you were both on the floor, with you straddling him and furiously punching his chest. “HOW DARE YOU SLAP ME IN PUBLIC?!”

Jeongin held up his hands defensively. “There was a MOSQUITO on your face!” he yelped.

“A mosquito?! You expect me to believe that garbage?!”

“Yes! I swear! I saw it!” Jeongin insisted, trying to shield his head from your onslaught of punches. “I was trying to save you from getting bitten!”

You paused, fists mid-air, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “And do you know what everyone’s saying now?!” you demanded.

Jeongin gulped, shaking his head.

“They think you dumped me in public and that I’m OBSESSED with you!”

Jeongin winced. “W-Wait… What? Obsessed?! How did that even—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the collar and shook him. “You RUINED my reputation!”

“I swear it was just a mosquito!” Jeongin whimpered.

Then, in a last-ditch effort to stop you, Jeongin did the most unexpected thing—he cupped your cheeks and kissed you, right there, on the lips.

The world came to a screeching halt.

Your fists dropped to your sides as your eyes widened. You blinked at him in shock, feeling your face heat up. Slowly, your hand came up to touch your lips. “O-Okay…” you stammered. “I-I believe you… about the mosquito, I guess.”

Jeongin let out a breath of relief, his face redder than a tomato. "Y-Yeah! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

But then, reality hit you both at the same time.

You squinted at him. “Wait. What about the kiss? What was that?”

Jeongin’s mind went into overdrive. “Uh… uh… it was, um… to make you stop hitting me?”

“Oh,” you said softly, your voice suddenly tender. “Well, I’ll also accept your confession.”

“Wait, what?” Jeongin froze. “C-Confession?!”

You smiled sweetly, batting your eyelashes. “You like me, don’t you?”

Jeongin’s soul left his body. “EH?!”

“Well, it’s about time! I like you too!” you announced triumphantly. “What took you so long to admit it, huh? You were probably hiding it because we’ve been friends for years, right?”

Jeongin’s jaw dropped. “Uh, I—”

You giggled, covering your face in embarrassment. “Don’t be shy, Jeongin! You can be my boyfriend now!”

Jeongin was in full panic mode. He didn’t like you like that! He had just kissed you out of desperation, not romance!

But now, standing in front of you, with your eyes sparkling and a grin on your face, he realized he was in way too deep to back out.

Well, guess I’m in this mess now, he thought miserably.

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you skipped down the halls of the university the next day, practically glowing. “Jeongin and I are dating!” you had blurted out to your colleagues the moment you walked in, unable to hold back the giddiness.

Word spread like wildfire. By lunchtime, practically every professor and student knew about your newfound “relationship” with Jeongin, and you were basking in all the attention. It wasn’t long before everyone started congratulating you—your students, your fellow professors, even Principal Lee.

Meanwhile, Jeongin? He was suffering.

“Congratulations, Professor Yang!” Professor Kim grinned, clapping Jeongin on the back so hard it almost knocked the air out of him. “It’s about time someone tied you down!”

“T-Thanks,” Jeongin managed to say, his smile so stiff you’d think it was glued on. His brain was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out how to survive the day without letting his entire soul implode from embarrassment.

“Ohhh, Professor Yang, I had no idea you were such a romantic!” cooed Professor Park, winking as she passed by. “First the slap, then the kiss! Very bold of you!”

Jeongin’s smile faltered as he tried to laugh it off. “Y-Yeah, bold… that’s me…”

You popped up beside him, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Jeongin! Can you believe it? Everyone’s so happy for us!”

Jeongin shot you a weak smile. “Yeah… ha… so happy.”

Principal Lee suddenly appeared out of nowhere, clapping Jeongin on the shoulder. “You sly dog! First you slap her in front of the whole class, and then this?! What a power move!”

Jeongin’s face was a shade of red not yet discovered by humans. “It’s not… I mean… well…”

You beamed at Principal Lee. “Right?! Isn’t he the sweetest? We’ve been neighbors for years, and I always knew there was something there!”

Jeongin felt his soul leave his body again as he gave Principal Lee yet another strained smile. “Yup… definitely… something…”

Principal Lee let out a hearty laugh. “You’ve made quite the impression, Professor Yang. Keep it up!”

As soon as the principal walked away, Jeongin turned to you, his face twisted in a mix of desperation and panic. “You… you told everyone?”

You nodded cheerfully. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I? This is the best thing that’s happened to me in ages!”

Jeongin wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. But before he could say anything, a group of students walked by, whispering loudly.

“Did you hear? Professor Yang kissed Professor (Y/N) after slapping her in front of the whole class!”

“Yeah, I heard! Talk about a whirlwind romance!”

“I bet they’ve been secretly dating for years!”

Jeongin clenched his fists, trying to maintain the fake smile plastered on his face. This was getting way out of hand. He hadn’t even processed what was happening himself, and now the whole university was acting like they’d been following his fake love life like it was the hottest new K-drama.

You, on the other hand, were in your element, waving at everyone and basking in the attention. “Come on, Jeongin!” you said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. “Let’s go to lunch together. It’s our first official lunch date as a couple!”

Jeongin followed along helplessly, his heart sinking further with every passing second. “Lunch… date… great…”

As you both made your way to the cafeteria, you were all smiles and sunshine, happily chatting about how perfect everything was. Meanwhile, Jeongin stared blankly ahead, his mind going a million miles a minute.

How am I going to survive this? he thought miserably, his fake smile twitching as another professor gave him a teasing thumbs-up.

One week into this "relationship," Jeongin was still struggling to survive. The whole thing had snowballed out of control. The once small, laughable rumor had now solidified into a full-blown campus-wide "fact." Teachers, staff, and students alike were fully convinced that he and you were happily dating.

You, on the other hand, were living your best life. Your joy at the situation was contagious. Every time someone asked about the relationship, you gave them an enthusiastic update.

“Oh yeah, Jeongin and I went out for dinner the other night,” you casually mentioned in the teacher’s lounge one morning, and the other teachers lit up.

“Where did you go?” Professor Park asked, leaning in with interest.

“Just this little Italian place downtown. Jeongin insisted on treating me,” you said, smiling like a lovesick puppy. Of course, none of it actually happened, but it didn’t matter. Your storytelling skills had everyone hanging on your every word.

Meanwhile, Jeongin, sitting quietly at the corner of the lounge, pretended to sip his coffee while his life slowly unraveled before his eyes.

“Oh my god, Jeongin is such a gentleman!” someone whispered loudly, and the rest of the teachers nodded in agreement.

Jeongin internally screamed. Gentleman? Me? I just wanted to correct one misunderstanding, and now I’m the romantic lead in a drama I didn’t sign up for!

At school, things were no better. Jeongin couldn’t walk down the hallway without a student giving him an admiring look or a cheeky thumbs-up. Every day felt like a test of his endurance.

“Professor Yang, I heard you and Professor (Y/N) are like, relationship goals,” one student said as Jeongin walked into class. He froze, mid-step.

“Uh... thanks?” he managed to choke out.

Another student chimed in, “Yeah, my girlfriend and I look up to you guys. You’re the perfect example of true love!”

Jeongin felt his soul leave his body. True love? Are you kidding me? He forced a smile and shuffled to his desk, all while internally begging for some cosmic intervention to end his suffering.

After weeks of the messed up situation (for jeongin)..

Jeongin stood at the front of the class, his usual calm, professional demeanor in place. He was explaining the day’s lesson on statistics, but something was off. One of the students kept shifting in their seat, glancing nervously between him and their textbook. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, they raised their hand.

“Professor Yang…” the student began, their voice wavering slightly.

Jeongin paused, turning his attention to the student. “Yes? Do you have a question about the lesson?”

The student fidgeted. “Not exactly. It’s just… um… I really like Professor (Y/N). Like, a lot.”

Jeongin blinked, completely thrown off. The class fell into a hush, eyes wide, as they eagerly awaited his reaction. He felt his heart race, but somehow managed to keep his expression neutral.

Clearing his throat, Jeongin forced a smile. “Well… if you want a girlfriend like Professor (Y/N), you should focus on your studies. Get good grades, graduate, and maybe one day, someone just as amazing will come into your life.”

The student’s face flushed as the class erupted into giggles, and Jeongin awkwardly scratched the back of his head. This day can’t get any weirder, he thought to himself.

Later that afternoon, Jeongin found himself sitting across from you in the faculty cafeteria, trying to shake off the awkwardness of that confession. You, as usual, were happily digging into your lunch, oblivious to the chaos he’d dealt with.

Just as Jeongin was about to take a bite of his sandwich, you suddenly said, “I think we should break up for a while.”

Jeongin froze mid-bite, his eyes widening as he looked at you in shock. “W-What?”

You sighed, setting down your fork. “It’s just that… I think our ‘relationship’ is causing more harm than good. A lot of my students are heartbroken, you know?”

Jeongin blinked, still not processing what you were saying. “Heartbroken?”

“Yeah,” you continued, shrugging casually. “They all have a crush on you. Some of them have even stopped coming to my classes. It’s kind of a problem.”

Jeongin was stunned, staring at you as if you’d just told him the sky was green. “Wait… you’re saying we should ‘break up’ because our students are heartbroken that we’re together?”

You nodded, completely serious. “Exactly. I’ll fix it, and once things settle down, we can get back together. Simple, right?”

For a moment, Jeongin didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, dumbfounded. But then, slowly, he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. The absurdity of the situation was too much.

“Sure,” he said, trying to suppress the growing grin on his face. “I mean, yes. We should definitely, uh… fix our students first.”

You smiled back, completely missing the relief that was practically radiating off of Jeongin. “Great! Glad we’re on the same page.”

As you went back to eating your lunch, Jeongin sat there, still smiling to himself, feeling like he had just dodged the weirdest bullet of his life.

The news of your "breakup" spread faster than a wildfire during a heatwave. Within hours, whispers of your separation had reached every corner of the university. Students exchanged shocked glances, and staff members, who had once teased you both relentlessly, now approached with sympathetic smiles.

You sat in the faculty lounge, sipping on a cup of tea, when Professor Choi from the History department quietly slid into the seat next to you.

“I heard,” she said softly, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry to hear about you and Jeongin. Breakups are never easy, especially when you still have to see each other every day.”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it all. "Yeah… it’s been rough," you muttered, trying to look appropriately heartbroken.

Meanwhile, Jeongin was getting his own dose of sympathy. He sat at his desk, furiously typing up notes, when Principal Lee casually strolled over and leaned against the doorway.

“Yang,” the principal said in a low, solemn voice, “I know it’s tough right now, but… if you need to take some time off to, you know, process everything, just say the word. We all understand.”

Jeongin looked up, his face blank. “Time off?”

Principal Lee nodded, crossing his arms. “After the breakup… it can’t be easy to work with someone you still have feelings for.”

Jeongin blinked, finally registering what was happening. Oh right, the breakup. They think I’m upset…

Realizing he had to play along, Jeongin sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah… it’s been hard.”

The principal clapped him on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself, Yang. Don’t hesitate to ask for support if you need it.”

As soon as Principal Lee left, Jeongin leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. This is getting ridiculous, he thought, but couldn’t help smiling. The sympathy and comfort he was receiving was nice, though it felt incredibly unnecessary.

During lunch, the two of you crossed paths in the hallway. You caught each other’s eye, and despite everything, Jeongin had to stifle a laugh. You both knew how ridiculous the situation had become, but there was no turning back now.

“Got a lot of support?” you asked with a grin.

Jeongin nodded, smirking. “More than I can handle. They think I’m a broken man.”

You laughed. “And yet here you are, looking completely unbothered.”

Jeongin shrugged, unable to hide the mischievous twinkle in his eye. “What can I say? I’m handling it really well.”

By the end of the week, the whole campus was buzzing with the “tragic” news of your breakup. You couldn’t walk down the hallway without someone giving you a sympathetic look or a pat on the shoulder, and Jeongin… well, he was practically swimming in support from all directions.

On Friday morning, as you arrived at your desk, you found a small gift bag with a note attached.

Stay strong, Professor (Y/N)! Heartbreak is tough, but you’re tougher! - Faculty Support Team

You shook your head, trying not to burst into laughter. Jeongin had just walked in, clearly trying to avoid eye contact with anyone for fear of being bombarded with more sympathetic words. But as fate would have it, Professor Lee from the Economics department appeared out of nowhere, placing a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder.

“Yang,” Professor Lee said in a voice heavy with emotion. “I just want to say… we’re all really proud of how strong you’ve been. You’ve handled this breakup with so much grace. It’s truly inspiring.”

Jeongin blinked, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “Uh… thanks?”

“If you ever want to talk about it,” Professor Lee continued, “my door is always open. Sometimes, it helps to let it all out.”

Jeongin could barely suppress an eye roll but managed to keep his expression neutral. “I appreciate that.”

As soon as Professor Lee left, Jeongin plopped down in the chair next to yours, groaning. “I can’t take much more of this. It’s like everyone thinks I’m seconds away from a meltdown.”

You snorted. “They’re just being considerate. You are going through a ‘devastating’ breakup, remember?”

Jeongin sighed dramatically. “Yeah, but do they have to constantly remind me? I’ve been offered counseling, time off, and even baked goods—like, six times this week.”

You grinned. “That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me.”

Jeongin shot you a playful glare. “Easy for you to say. You’re over here getting gift bags.”

The two of you shared a laugh, and for a moment, the whole ridiculous situation didn’t seem so bad. But then, as if the universe had a personal vendetta against Jeongin, Principal Lee strolled into the lounge, spotting you both at once.

“Ah, Professors!” Principal Lee said, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “It’s good to see you two… managing things so well.”

Jeongin internally groaned. Here we go again.

“I just wanted to say,” Principal Lee continued, his tone taking on a deep, meaningful note, “you’ve both handled this transition with such professionalism and maturity. I’m proud of how you’ve put your students first during this difficult time.”

You and Jeongin exchanged a glance, you gave a solemn nod. “Thank you, sir. We’re just trying to focus on what’s best for everyone.”

Principal Lee gave a final nod of approval before walking away, leaving the two of you.

Jeongin sighed deeply. “Professionalism. Maturity.”

You giggled. “Hey, at least no one’s asking if we’re getting back together yet.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes with a smile. “Give them time.”

After the news of your "breakup" spread, the campus vibe completely shifted. Students who once looked heartbroken at the sight of you and Jeongin together were now noticeably more cheerful. Some even started paying extra attention during Jeongin’s lectures, no longer distracted by their imaginary heartbreaks. The campus seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

In particular, a few students had grown oddly enthusiastic about your newfound "single" status.

One day, during lunch break, you left the faculty room to grab a coffee.

Across the room, Jeongin was pretending to focus on his papers, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw an entire thing unfold. A tall student, clearly nervous but determined, had crept into the faculty room, glanced around cautiously, and then swiftly placed the milk on your desk before practically running out.

Jeongin raised an eyebrow. What the…?

As soon as the student was out of sight, curiosity got the better of him. He glanced around the room to make sure no one else was watching, then stood up and made his way over to your desk. He leaned down, inspecting the little pink carton like it was evidence in a crime scene.

Strawberry milk? Really?

Jeongin shook his head, slightly amused. He knew exactly what was happening—some student had a crush on you, and now that the breakup rumors were out there, they were shooting their shot.

Jeongin leaned against your desk, arms crossed, staring at the milk with an expression that could only be described as a mix of disbelief and mild irritation.

First they’re heartbroken, and now they’re trying to make a move? he thought, a small smirk playing on his lips. He wasn’t sure if he should be amused or… annoyed.

Just then, you walked back into the room, catching sight of Jeongin standing near your desk with a carton of strawberry milk in his hand.

“Uh… what are you doing?” you asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

Jeongin looked up, trying to act nonchalant as he pointed to the milk. “You’ve got an admirer, it seems.”

You blinked in surprise. “What?”

He handed you the milk, still smirking. “Found this on your desk. Some student dropped it off, probably hoping to win your heart with sweet drinks.”

You stared at the carton, then back at Jeongin, trying to process what he was saying. “A student… gave me strawberry milk?”

Jeongin nodded, leaning in slightly. “And not just any student. That tall one from your class—the one who always sits in the back and pretends he’s not staring at you the whole time.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Well, at least it’s not another breakup sympathy gift.”

Jeongin chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, but now you’ve got students lining up to be your rebound.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “Oh, shut up.”

But as you sat down, opening the milk and taking a sip, Jeongin couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions. He didn’t like you romantically—that much he knew. But seeing other people making moves on you… it felt odd. Not bad exactly, just… odd.

Still, he shrugged it off, returning to his desk with a final glance at you sipping the strawberry milk.

Well, at least she seems to be enjoying it, he thought, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

Over the next few days, you noticed more of those small gestures—the occasional extra pen left on your desk, little notes with doodles, and once, someone even left a small bouquet of sunflower. The attention from your students, though sweet, was starting to get a bit overwhelming. Meanwhile, Jeongin was secretly keeping track of every “gift” like a personal tally, finding it both amusing and somewhat annoying.

But today, Jeongin found himself in a particularly bad mood. He wouldn’t admit it, but every time he saw one of your students sneaking something onto your desk, it grated at him more than usual. And the last straw came when you received yet another carton of strawberry milk.

This time, Jeongin was teaching in the adjacent classroom when he noticed the same tall student from before standing outside the faculty room, peeking in to make sure no one saw him. The moment the coast was clear, the student dashed inside and left another carton on your desk, sneaking away as fast as he came.

Jeongin frowned. Again with the strawberry milk? Is this guy serious?

Later, as you entered the room after class, Jeongin was already standing there, staring at the carton as if it had personally offended him.

“Uh… are you collecting these now?” you teased, walking toward your desk.

Jeongin held up the milk with a bemused expression. “Don’t you think it’s weird that this guy keeps giving you strawberry milk? I mean, come on, he’s got no creativity.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re jealous of a carton of milk now?”

Jeongin blinked. “W-What? No! I just think it’s… repetitive,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

You laughed and took the milk from his hand, giving him a light-hearted smile. “I think it’s kind of sweet. You know, harmless.”

Jeongin snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Sweet, huh? Well, maybe he should try actually talking to you instead of leaving mystery drinks on your desk.”

You were about to respond when suddenly, the tall student walked past the door, clearly not expecting to see Jeongin still standing there. He froze, eyes wide as he saw Jeongin holding the milk, his face turning beet red.

“Oh—uh, hi, Professor Yang!” the student stammered, nervously fidgeting.

Jeongin’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile remained in place—though it definitely didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, it’s you again. What’s this, another gift for Professor (Y/N)? You know, if you want a girlfriend like her, you should focus on your studies first. Maybe graduate, too, before you start handing out milk.”

The student’s face turned even redder, and he gave a quick nod before practically running away.

You gave Jeongin a look. “Did you just… scare him off?”

Jeongin shrugged, feigning innocence. “I’m just encouraging academic focus. That’s my job.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, laughing softly as you sat down. “You’re impossible.”

One afternoon, as you stood outside the faculty room, you were approached by the father of one of your students. He looked a little troubled, so you smiled warmly and asked how you could help.

"Ah, Professor (Y/N), I just wanted to talk to you about my son's performance in class," the father started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "He's been struggling lately, and I think it's because of some issues at home…"

You listened attentively, nodding as he explained the situation. Unbeknownst to you, Jeongin had just come out of his own classroom and saw you in conversation with the man. Out of habit, Jeongin walked over, stopping beside you. He crossed his arms and subtly observed the situation, his expression calm but his gaze sharp.

The conversation with the student's father went on for a few minutes, mostly focused on academics. But then, out of nowhere, the man smiled a little too warmly and said, "You know, Professor (Y/N), I really appreciate how much you care about the students. Maybe I could get your number so I can reach you if there’s anything else about my son I need to discuss?"

Before you could respond, Jeongin stepped forward. “Actually, I’m Professor Yang, her colleague,” he interjected smoothly, a polite but firm smile on his face. “You can contact me directly if there’s anything you need to discuss about your son’s progress. I’ll make sure the message reaches Professor (Y/N).”

The father looked a little taken aback by Jeongin’s sudden presence but nodded slowly, glancing between the two of you. “Oh, I see. Well, thank you, Professor Yang.” He accepted the number Jeongin offered, then awkwardly excused himself.

Once he was gone, you turned to Jeongin, your arms crossed, eyebrow raised. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Trust me, I did.”

You chuckled, nudging him lightly. “What, were you jealous of a parent now? I mean, come on, he was just asking for my number.”

Jeongin’s jaw clenched slightly, and you could see the faintest flush on his cheeks. “Jealous? No. I’m just being cautious. That guy… something felt off.”

You chuckled, giving him a light nudge. “Sure, sure. You’re totally not jealous.”

Jeongin stayed silent for a moment before turning to face you fully. His expression was serious now, his usual playfulness gone. “Look, I’m kind of tired of this… seeing things like that happening.”

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Jeongin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before blurting out, “You should just get back together with me already.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, completely caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

He looked at you, dead serious now. “Yeah. I’m tired of pretending. All this break-up stuff and guys sneaking around leaving you milk—it’s driving me crazy. So, let’s just stop playing games and get back together.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to process his sudden confession. Then, a teasing grin spread across your face. “Wow, Jeongin… I didn’t know you were this in love with me. You’re really losing it, huh?”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed and leaned in closer. “Alright, fine. We’ll get back together… but,” you paused for effect, “let’s keep it a secret relationship. You know, for the thrill of it.”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, clearly not amused by the suggestion. “No.”

You blinked. “No? Why not?”

He crossed his arms, standing firm. “If we’re getting back together, I’m letting everyone know. I’m not hiding it.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling a mix of surprise and excitement. You raised an eyebrow. “Wow… you’re really serious.”

Jeongin nodded, his gaze steady. “Yeah. I am.”

News spread like wildfire—no, like how Lightning McQueen drives! In no time, whispers of “Professor Yang and (Y/N) are back together!” buzzed through the halls.

And this time, Jeongin wasn’t just accepting congratulations; he was practically beaming! With a newfound confidence, he grinned as faculty members and students approached him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him on “landing the best professor in the university.”

“You’re a lucky guy, Professor!” one student chirped during class, his eyes wide with admiration. “I hope I can get a girlfriend like her someday!”

Jeongin smirked, leaning back in his chair. “If you want someone like me, you better ace my quizzes!” He paused, his smile growing mischievous. “Alright, everyone, grab a piece of paper! Surprise quiz time!”

Later, while you were teaching your class, a girl shyly raised her hand. “What’s it like being Jeongin’s girlfriend?!” She squealed, and the rest of the class leaned in, practically vibrating with excitement.

You couldn’t help but laugh, loving the attention. “Well, let me tell you, it’s like having a baby dinosaur in your life!” You grinned as they squealed, hanging on your every word. “He’s really sweet, but also super clumsy. When we were kids, he once tripped over his shoelaces while trying to impress me with a magic trick. Spoiler: the magic trick failed, but it was pretty funny.”

The students were wide-eyed, hanging on to your every word, as you shared more stories about Jeongin and his antics growing up. Laughter filled the room as you recounted tales of his childhood mishaps, and you could see how much they adored the idea of their professors being so relatable and real.

"Now can someone answer my question, just like his magic trick.. why rubbing a plastic pen through your hair pick up little bits of paper in science?" you smirked

After all the chaos of rumors, misunderstandings, and awkward moments, it felt good to share those light-hearted memories with them. You glanced over at Jeongin, who was peeking into your classroom with a playful grin, and your heart swelled with happiness.

As the day wound down, you couldn’t help but think: After all the mess and everything, life is good. You had your friends, your job, and most importantly, you had Jeongin—your partner in crime and your forever accomplice in laughter.

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

an: thank you for reading. a heart, reblog, and comment is very much appreciated

(randomly mentioning some jeongin stans. thankyou)

masterlist

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids #skz #jeongin x reader #skz jeongin #skz in #jeongin smut #jeongin fluff #currently reading #lee know #han jisung #seungmin #changbin #college life #yang jeongin #maknae on top

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angelyuji · 5 months ago

Text

violent short-tempered yandere type characters

i cant remember where i got this idea. either i saw it on a show or it came to me in a dream.... alsooo im mostly basing this off of rick sanchez cuz im insane and i love my men crazy, smart, and old. im also addicted to rick and morty rn and im praying the next season comes out soon..... anyway

tw // murder, kidnapping, yandere stuff, treating someone like an object/pet (i cant remember the word for it)

they're busy people. they dont have time to date you or stalk u for long periods of time. they’re impatient and short-tempered and generally assholes. they literally saw you once and thought u were the cutest thing ever.

they watched, angrily, as your partner’s hand squeezes your butt. they watched as you giggled, lightly pushing your partner. they knew in one glance that you shouldn't be with your asshole partner. you deserved better. someone smarter, kinder, stronger like themselves. their fists clenched as they pushed past everyone in the way, seeing red. no one is allowed to touch you like that except for them. no one should be able to feel your warmth and see your smile except for them. they finally get close to the two of you and in one quick movement, your partner’s brains had splattered onto the pavement. your scream filled their ears and a sense of peace filled them. they grabbed your arm and the two of you disappeared from view.

you dont even have to meet them. one quick glance from you is all they need. they kill anyone in their path. anyone that poses a threat to you. anyone that even thinks about taking you away from them.

theyre mean to you, but all they want is to keep you safe. to hold you. to keep your love to themselves. they’re so easily jealous.

(like how rick cares abt his family, but he’s still an absolute asshole to them) (rick brainrot guys i need the old fuck NEOW) (i think i just love fictional older men who have committed heinous crimes…) (anyway)

the only time they’d be kind to u is if they feel like you’re pulling away or thinking of escaping. its a lot of hot and cold. you would constantly annoy them. to them, you should be seen, not heard. there when they need comfort, but you need to fuck off otherwise. you’re quite literally their pet. they keep you to entertain them.

definitely: homelander, omni-man, sukana, william afton, ooc rick sanchez

maybe: canon rick sanchez, ooc captain america

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months ago

Note

Hi 👋🏻 I’m currently very sick rn and I need cuddles and love from either Clark Kent or Simon Riley, you pick. And could it just be fluffy and sorta angsty with a ps!reader who is just super mopey and mad about being sick and others things. You can pick most of the background for this!!

Btw love 💗 all of your writing 💛🦡🙃

.⋆｡Sick Days and Comfy PJs｡⋆.

Clark Kent x plus size reader

Sick days require your boyfriend to become your live-in nurse, but who are you to complain.

Warnings: sick!reader, fluff, little smidge of angst but not really, general sick warnings, brief nudity WC: 840

A/N: I hope you feel better soon! I’m so glad you find joy in my writing and I hope you get some out of this one 💚

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“I’m dying.”

“No you’re not.”

“I feel like I’m dying.” There was a sigh.

“You just have the flu sweets.”

“I swear it’s the plague.” The bed groaned and the weight of another person settled on top of it but you didn’t move to look at them. A large hand cupped your head over the thick blanket draped on top of you.

“Can you let me take your temperature again?”

You grumbled back. “No. Too cold.”

There was another sigh and then the blanket was moved aside, sending a wave of cold air into your little cave of sickness. You groaned in annoyance as you attempted to escape the disruption but before you could, your boyfriend’s thick arm wound around your hips and pulled you up.

“That’s just the fever talking.” His voice was much clearer now as he held you to his chest while he rummaged around the mountain of things on your nightstand. Your head was pounding with a migraine that was only compounded by your clogged sinuses.

“Clark.” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut against the harsh light bleeding in from the hallway.

His palm spread out across your back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your shoulder blade as he finally found the thermometer. “Just a couple minutes sweets and then you can go back to sleep.” The cold metal tip prodded your lips for a second before you begrudgingly opened your mouth. “That’s a good girl.” He cooed and pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“I hate you.”

He chuckled softly, the vibrations of it rumbling through his chest. “I know sweets.”

“Dumb alien genes.” Clark sighed again.

“I can get sick sweets, just not with anything here on Earth.” You cracked your eyelids open to glare at him again, letting him get a good look at your bloodshot eyes and dark bags from three days of fitful sleep. “Fine. I’m sorry I can’t get sick. How can I make it up to you?”

“Grill me a cheese.” The thermometer beeped and Clark gently pried it from your lips. You gave out a rattling cough. “And lemme wear your pjs.”

He tsked and wiped off the end with a tissue. “Still too high. Alright, how about a nice hot shower and I can throw my clothes and your blanket in the dryer so they’re nice and warm by the time you get out.”

“And a grilled cheese?” He gave you a look.

“I’ll heat up some of that soup mama made. A grilled cheese might be too heavy for your tummy.” You stuck out your bottom lip at him. Clark tugged you up higher on his chest, letting your soft legs wrap around his waist as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. His hands fell to your ass and unable to help himself, he gave the plump cheeks a gentle squeeze.

“But you’re the one that got me sick.” He had taken you out on a little fly around Metropolis four days ago, ignoring your warning that it was too cold for you to be whipping around the clouds with him.

“That’s not- ok fine, I’ll make you a grilled cheese.” You beamed up at him. “But only if you don’t complain about a stomach ache afterwards.” He rose to his feet as gently as he could, keeping you from being jostled too much.

You sighed and clung onto your boyfriend, feeling utterly sorry for yourself. “Don’t like being sick. Hurts so much.”

“I know sweetheart.” Clark kept you wrapped up safely in his arms as he turned on the hot water.

“You won’t leave me?” Steam soon filled the small bathroom, making it a little more bearable when he gently stripped you of the old pyjamas you had on. Clark paused.

His brows furrowed and he looked up at you from where he knelt on the tiled floor, one socked foot in his hand. “I’d never leave you. Where-where’s this coming from sweets?”

You shook your head and roughly wiped away the tears of aggravation. “It’s dumb.”

Clark pulled off your sock and threw it into the laundry basket in the corner before standing up to his full height. “It’s not dumb if it’s making you this upset.” He cupped your full cheek. Your hands curled into his t-shirt and you nodded.

“I’m sorry I’m so annoying, making you take care of me.”

“Hey. I take care of you because I love you, you aren’t annoying or a burden. You’re mine and that means I take all of you. Ok?” You nodded and he rewarded you with a soft peck to your chapped lips. “Good. Now that we’ve cleared that up. Finish your shower and I’ll get everything ready for you.”

With a gentle pat to your ass, you were bathed in hot water, easing the pressure behind your eyes. “Love you sweets. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

And as the bathroom door shut, you smiled. Sick days with Clark weren’t bad at all.

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year ago

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—𓆩[i’ll kill you]𓆪—

hey anon honey, quick little thing, the ages don’t make sense so reader is 2 years younger than Tobias, initiated into Dauntless and is in training rn but you and Tobias are dating - more explained in the story. — also, this got out of hand, this is like 2.2K words-

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

You chose Dauntless because Tobias went there, but you never expected it to fit, or how much the rest of the initiates could see you and Four’s relationship.

Tobias came to see you the night before you would be choosing the faction you would spend the rest of your life in. He snuck into your house, especially because you certainly weren’t fitting into Abnegation.

You held back giggles as the Dauntless soldier quickly slipped inside, a smile on his face as he leaned forward to try and kiss you.

“Tobias!” You whisper shouted, thankful that your parents were heavy sleepers as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips, pulling you closer. “What happened? It’s been a while since your last visit.”

“Everyone is so caught up with the ceremony tomorrow, I finally got the chance to escape,” he says, smiling as you lay back on the bed and he quickly straddles your waist. He lets his hands dance along your sides, his mouth pressing kisses to your neck. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

You giggle, pushing your hands through his hair. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What did your results say?” He asks, his head resting on your collarbone, lips softly pressing into your skin. “You can tell me.”

You paused, thinking about the results you had gotten, ‘Inconclusive’. She told you not to tell anyone, but Four didn’t count, right?

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I’ll go anywhere you go. I can become a guard at Candor, if you stay here I’ll do patrols, if you go to Amity I can become a wall guard-”

“My results were inconclusive.”

He pauses, looking up at you. “What?”

“They were inconclusive,” you repeat, inhaling deeply. “She asked me what faction I planned to go into and put it as my result.”

“And what faction is that, my love?”

“Dauntless,” you whisper, looking down at him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I want to be with you the rest of my life.”

He smiled, lifting himself up with his arms to lean down and press another kiss to your lips. “And I want to be with you, Y/N. I promise, I will never do anything to hurt you.”

You nodded, smiling up at him. “I know.”

The next day, you did choose Dauntless, along with another Abnegation girl named Beatrice. She sat next to you, giving you a slight smile which you immediately returned. “I’m Y/N.”

“Beatrice.”

“I’m aware,” you say with a slight hum, shrugging. “I know everyone in Abnegation. Kind of my job.”

She pauses, staring before gasping. “You’re Y/N! You couldn’t choose when you were supposed to.”

“Right,” you giggle, shrugging. “Now I’m here. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You both stick together until the train, where you both meet Christina who tilted her head at you. “You seem familiar.”

“My name is Y/N.”

She hummed. “Right, you’re the one who used to know Marcus’ son.”

You pause, but nod. You still knew Marcus’ son, he just escaped and told you not to tell anyone of what happened. You never knew why, mainly because Tobias never told you, but you were hoping it’s because he wants to see his father fall apart on his own accord - mainly because that’s what you wanted.

“They’re jumping,” Christina announces, looking back. “They’re fucking jumping!”

You weren’t surprised, this is something Four told you would happen. You stand, looking out the open door and looking back at them. “Well, you guys ready?”

“Are you sure you were born into the right faction?” Christina asks, scoffing playfully. “You’re not even hesitating.”

“I’m not scared,” you say, shrugging. You had a slight twist at the bottom of your stomach, but it wasn’t fear, maybe excitement? “Let’s go! Or I’m jumping without you guys!”

Beatrice smiles, standing as Christina scoffed. “Alright. Together?”

“Together!”

You all grab each other's hands, you being the first to jump and roll into the gravel covered rooftop. You inhaled deeply as you tuck your head under your arms, your thin gray Abnegation dress bunching up around your waist as you finally stopped rolling and landed on your back. You smiled, laughing as you laid there before Christina stood and held her hand out over your body.

When you stood, Eric was announcing they needed someone to jump. No one was speaking up, so you slowly offered a raised hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Well then, get up here.”

You recognized Eric from when Tobias came around, and you were sure he knew somewhat about your relationship. Slowly, you slipped off your sweater, ignoring the taunting of one of the men before quickly jumping onto the edge. “Today, initiate,” he leans close to your ear, humming. “Your boyfriend will be down there to catch you.”

You glared at him before slowly tipping forward, giggling as your weight finally got caught by gravity and you fell straight down. For a minute, you thought you’d keep falling until you finally hit the net, gasping as you finally fell into it, bouncing before you looked to the side. You smiled widely when you saw Four, quickly crawling to him as he offered his hand.

“Did someone push you, Y/N?” He asks curiously, smiling as you shake your head.

“Mm mm,” you hummed a no, taking his hand as he helped you out of the net. “Just thought about seeing you.”

“Well then,” he smiles. “First jumper, Y/N!”

Dauntless was different, and to be honest, you were liking it before you were shown the dorms. “If you like this, You’re going to love the bathrooms. There’s clothes on the cots, Y/N,” he looks at you, humming. “You’re coming with me.”

Your nose scrunches in confusion, looking back at Christina and Tris who stared at you. “Wh-Why-?”

“Y/N,” his voice is more stern, a raise of his brow making you inhale deeply before grabbing your clothes. “Come with me.”

You quickly walk after him, inhaling as he leads you down the hall before he signals you to come to his side. “To- Four. Four, where are we going?”

“You can call me by my real name, Y/N,” he smiled, his hand slowly pushing into yours and pulling you down the corridor. “I like it when you say my real name.”

You giggled, holding his head as he pulled you closer to him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. He was never really one for pet names or terms of endearment, but he always made up for it in actions. “Where are we going?”

“To my room. Our room,” he corrects, shrugging. “I pulled some strings and you can stay with me. For the rest of your training and life, our life.”

You gasped as he pulled you closer to him, his hand pulling your body close to his as you hummed against his lips, stroking his hair. His hands hold your hips, grunting softly as he pressed you harder against the wall, his fingers bunching up your dress before someone clears their throat, laughing. “You got a stiff as a girlfriend, Four, I didn’t expect that.”

Four pulled away, glaring at Eric as he pulled your face into his chest. “Fuck off, Eric.”

“Well, the stiff doesn’t look that stiff anymore,” Eric leaned against the wall as you attempted to cover your face in embarrassment. “Does she? She staying with you, hm? Don’t think that’s fair to other tributes… or instructors.”

“You better choose your next words fucking wisely, Eric,” Four pushed you behind him, shoving the other Dauntless male. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Four,” you whispered, tugging on his shirt. “Please, take me to our room, I want to leave.”

He looked back, cursing under his breath before shoving his finger into Eric’s chest. “Fuck with her I’ll fucking kill you.”

He pushed you back, slowly turning around before guiding you down the corridor. “See you both later!”

It didn’t take you both long to get up to his room, watching as you changed in front of him. He stared at your form, your body not foreign, but the need to memorize was filling his head. He stared at your body, the curves of your torso and your hips, eyes staring at your beautiful body.

“Look good?” You giggle, spinning in the leather pants and tight black shirt. “I like it.”

“You look perfect in it,” Four stands, walking towards you and pressing a firm kiss to your lips. “Do you want to go eat?”

You pause, then shake your head. “I’m not very hungry.”

“You want me to bring you back food?” He offered, smiling when you nodded. “Okay. Get some sleep.”

You nodded, leaning up for a kiss as he slowly pushed your hair back. “I love you, Tobi.”

“I love you too, honey.”

During training, you were certainly doing better than anyone would’ve thought, and maybe that was the problem. “Maybe our little stiff is sucking off Four to get some more points,” Peter says, laughing as Will snorted. You didn’t miss the slight giggle falling from Christina’s mouth, but Tris looked shocked.

“Why would-”

“Oh, the other stiff doesn’t know!” Peter stood up straight, walking towards you. “Y/N here is in a… relationship with Four. Or is it just a fuck buddy thing, because if you’re sucking him off, that means you can do the same for me? Hm?”

It was a split decision to punch him, taking great pleasure in the way he groaned and quickly held his nose before smashing your elbow in between his eyes and kicking him in the shin to watch him crumble to the ground. Your hand grabbed the back of his head, slamming it into your knee before Christina tries to step forward. “Y/N, calm down-!”

“You’re thinking the same thing, aren’t you?” You let Peter fall forward, shoving her. “All of you are!”

She scoffed, but didn't fight back knowing you damn well would beat her. “What else do you expect us to think, huh?! Just because you’re doing so well in physicals, you’ve passed up fucking Dauntless borns!”

“But no one is questioning Tris? Why not, why is it just me?!”

“Because you’re fucking a damn instructor!”

“Fuck you, Christina!” You clenched your fist, holding back from shoving her as you groaned. “Fuck all of you!”

You left in a hurry, storming up to Four’s room and screaming out in frustration. You were glad that he wasn’t here as you kicked everything in sight, shoving the walls as though they’d move.

“Y/N, what the hell happened?” Four asks as he came inside, your naked form covered with his thin blankets as you hugged his pillow. “Y/N? What's wrong?”

“Am I… is the only reason why I’m high in the ranks because I’m fucking you?” You whisper, the word already making you wet. You had already gotten off a few times against Four’s pillow that you hugged tightly, mainly because you stripped and being surrounded by everything that belonged to him was such a turn on.

“What? The fuck are you talking about, did someone say something?” He was walking towards you as you tighten the blanket around your body, watching as he paused. “Someone said something, didn’t they?”

You inhale shakily, nodding as he slowly pulls the covers off of you, humming when he sees the wet patch on his pillow. “I… I love you, I love you Four, but I'm doing… Am I doing good?”

He nodded, pulling off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, slowly pulling your legs apart. “You’re doing so fucking good, honey. Perfect, everyone thinks so, and what you did to Peter just proved it. I think… I think that I should give you something to celebrate how good you're doing.”

You smiled, biting your lip with a nod. “Yes… yes, I think I should be praised. I want you to… show me how good you think I’m doing.”

He laughs, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips and letting your hands tug at his pants. “You think I’m lying to you? I could’ve gone to Candor, darling, I would never lie to you. I think you’re doing great,” he hummed as he let his fingers push into you, a gasp falling from your lips as his two thick fingers slid into your pussy easily. “Fuck, you already fucked yourself? How many times did you cum?”

“Th-Three times,” you whisper, whimpering as he twists his fingers inside of you and flexes them. “Thinking about you, Tobias. Thinking about your cock fucking me.”

He groaned, humming as you slowly gripped his cock, pumping his already hard length. Four smiled, hissing softly as you pulled his tip to your entrance, bucking your hips. “You want me to fuck you? Hm?”

You nodded mindlessly, eyes rolling back as he slowly pushed into you, groaning. “Fuck, fuck Tobias!”

He groans into your neck, sucking hickies onto your skin, his girth making your legs spread wider in an attempt to make your cunt suck him in faster. You whined loudly, attempting to make him push deeper as he laughs. “You’re that desperate? After three orgasms, you still want my cock? Fuck, I like seeing you like this. I love seeing you like this, I think it would be fucking amazing if I came home every day and you’re fucking yourself thinking about me. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, your mind focusing on his cock ramming into you, eyes rolling back and head thrown into the pillows as your hands held his shoulders. “Yes! Yes, I can! I can, I can!”

He groaned loudly, his cock finally bottoming out as he panted above you. “I’ll show you how good you’re doing, honey, because you’re so, so good.”

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