#yeah so less fluff and more darkness in this fic

[the-silver-chronicles]

2025 Year Of The OTP February Prompts: "You're Mine" [Boa Lurking In The Bliss]

Tagging @imogenkol @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @raresvtm @josephseedismyfather @noodlecupcakes @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @adelaidedrubman @derelictheretic @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who'd like to join.

February Prompts based on this Year Of The OTP fandom event as well as something for Valentines Day. Tackling the following prompts: Valentines Day, "It made me think of you", Bed Sharing & Mind Control/Break.

Sharing the February Oneshot here, but alternatively can be found on my AO3 here. I suppose this will count as one of my major contributions to Faithbruary (despite the fact I'm doing this for the other months too).

Unlike January's oneshot Our Love, this Faithbruary oneshot You're Mine includes a content warning for dubious consent for kissing, mostly due to use of Bliss.

Anyway, you can read the oneshot below the cut or on my AO3 above. Enjoy!:

Title: You’re Mine

Series: The Silver Chronicles (Far Cry 5)

Pairing: Boa Lurking In The Bliss (Silva Omar/Faith Seed)

Prompts: February – Valentine’s Day, “It made me think of you”, Bed Sharing & Mind Control/Break.

Genre: Fluff but really Dark Angst.

CW: Mildly dubious consent for a kiss (Standard procedure with use of Bliss). The horrifying use of Bliss on a person. Obsession and possessiveness from Faith Seed.

Words: 2,623

In the unconscious chasm of sleep, Silva stirred upon feeling the familiar sensation of heat washing over her skin.

Though her eyes were heavy, she pushed herself through the tiredness to open them, undeterred by the brightness above. The sun seemed to be intense today.

Awakening, she stretched on the soft silk sheets of the queen-sized bed, the large blanket drifting down to reveal she was wearing a pyjama button-up shirt and shorts. She didn’t remember putting such clothing on yesterday, but the night before had been more or less a blur to Silva, so it wasn’t anything she should focus on.

Rubbing at her face, she paused when she noted her gloves weren’t on, her sensitive hands feeling tingly under the soft gaze of the sun. Her dark hair, usually braided into one tail, was also undone, allowing her long dark hair to flow behind her.

She furrowed her brows at that until her attention was turned towards an additional weight on the bed.

Her train of thought was swiftly forgotten as she focused on the beautiful mujer sitting on the edge of the bed, still ethereal in the white dress she wore. Her flowing light brown hair that reached a little over her shoulders was a majestic sight, but what captivated Silva most her alluring green eyes.

And when her lips quirked up into a content smile, Silva could feel her heartbeat quicken, and the fog on her mind felt heavier.

Faith was here.

When did she get here? Where is here?

The unprompted thought brought confusion, though she didn’t get to focus on it when Faith stated, “You’re finally awake.”

Silva blinked, and felt herself return a smile as she pushed herself up, sitting up against the bed’s head.

Her eyes briefly trailed to the surrounding foliage, mist with a green hue surrounding familiar white flowers. The logic of it baffled Silva, but she elected to ignore it in favor of a reply.

“I haven’t had a goodnight rest like that in ages,” she said, her grey eyes taking in Faith’s form before her, “How long was I out?”

How did I get here?

The thought repeated, and Silva felt something at the edge of her mind.

The crackling of gunfire. The blare of speakers playing soothing music. Eyes hurting, tears welling. Inhaling sweetness-

“Just a couple hours,” Faith answered, scooting closer to Silva with… a tray of freshly baked steaming bread and a cup of tea. She was surprised she didn’t notice Faith holding it sooner, but with a growl from her stomach, Silva’s priorities shifted from questioning to eating.

Silva rationalized she hadn’t fully woken up yet, hence why she didn’t notice the food Faith was holding. Even if she didn’t believe that herself. What’s going on with me-

Faith pushed the tray into Silva’s hands, forcing the dark-haired woman to shift concentration on not spilling anything onto herself or the bed.

“You had such a rough night though, you’ll probably need more rest for the celebration,” Faith mentioned, observing Silva settle the tray onto her own lap and breaking the hot bread in half.

“Celebration?” Silva raised a brow at that, taking a bite out of the softness of the hot bread. She resisted the urge to hum in contentment, not long before devouring it fully.

Faith only smiled in response, waving away the question, “Nothing to think about. It’ll be a long while until then. Leaves plenty of time for us…”

Silva had just picked up the teacup when she noticed the purr in Faith’s voice. She noted how Faith twirled a stand of light brown hair, her green eyes on the other woman with a familiar intensity of emotion.

“Us?” Silva repeated the distinctly emphasized word in a soft murmur, her tone inquiring while she looked away from Faith’s beautiful face. The use of that word accompanied by Faith’s behavior held an implication that only made her heart pump faster, so she took a sip from the all too sweet tea.

Not helped by Faith’s coy smile (was it coy? Or was it sly?). Nor how she reached her hand out to caress Silva’s cheek… and cupped her face…

The sweetness burned in her lungs. She knew she was a goner. She could already feel lighter-

���You know what today is, Silva?” Faith asked with a tilt of her head, keen to observe all of Silva’s expressive reactions.

Silva tried to remember if she even knew the answer. The days all kind of blur together ever since-

“February 14th,” Faith stated, taking the teacup from her hands and returning it to the tray, removing it from Silva’s lap to place it aside on the sheets, making room for her to shuffle closer to Silva on the bed.

However, Silva had a spark of familiarity with the specific date that distracted her from Faith’s enfolding approach.

“Got a special someone to spend some lovin’ on tomorrow, Dep?” asked the gruff, scratchy voice of one of the Guns. The flame-throwing one.

A brief panicked thought erupted in her mind, Why can’t I remember his name? I should know his name! Isn’t it-?!

“Valentines Day,” Silva muttered to herself, the thoughts gone in favor of realizing the day’s significance. She tried to claw on to that memory… the memory of a name, now too blurry to make out what the words were, but just as quickly as it came, it slipped from her grasp. Her eyes returned to Faith when she realized the other woman was straddling her.

In her hazy mind, Silva still recognized the proximity was an intimate gesture that she knew could only be shared between amantes. She remembered sharing her personal space with Irene before-

“I got something for you,” Faith softly told Silva, face ever closer, the smell of citruses invading her nose, strong enough to make her head dizzy. There wasn’t much distance between their faces, nor their lips; a dangerous thought whispered that, if Silva just inched more closer, she could probably capture Faith’s lips in her own.

��Wait, no! I can’t be thinking about kissing Faith Seed! She’s my en-!

Faith pulled out something from behind her, bringing it up between them; it was a small gift box, it’s size fitting on Faith’s palm.

Silva, with an odd hesitance, lightly took the little gift from Faith. There was an Eden’s Gate cross was drawn on the top of it.

The last thing she recalled before her consciousness fell into the familiar sweet darkness was how the dreaded cross looked down on her with a judgement as ferocious as the surrounding flames.

“Open it,” Faith encouraged, a wide and excited smile on her face.

Silva shook away the unprompted visage; somewhere in her mind echoed its insignificance. She followed Faith’s instruction, opening the little box’s lid to reveal-

A bracelet?

That was Silva’s initial thought, considering its design. It looked like a small grey python coiled around, poised to strike. It appeared to be made of a kind of special leather, one she’d expect to find at the Seed’s Ranch.

That thought provoked a glimpse of a familiar bearded man wearing a blue shirt and vest, his grin manic while holding a bloodied screwdriver.

Her hand went to her chest, where the skin had once been exposed. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the sweet and citrus air that put her at ease, she refocused her attention back onto the bracelet.

Inspecting it closer, she noted that it was a bit wide to be a bracelet and came to another conclusion.

“Is it a… choker?” she asked Faith, mildly curious on what compelled Faith to gift her this.

The light brunette stifled a snicker, uncharacteristic of the woman that Silva knew. Or thought she knew…

Regardless, Faith decided to correct Silva, “No, it’s not a choker. Close though. Think of it as… a “special necklace” or rather a pendant. Here, I’ll put it on for you.”

Without so much as a chance to decline, Faith took the pendant out of the box and got Silva to turn around. The way she pressed against her back caused Silva’s cheeks to burn and darken from the contact, but Faith didn’t seem to notice. Not that Silva entirely minded… not while the other woman coiled the necklace around her neck. Almost collaring her, but that thought was shoved away swiftly.

“And done!” Faith exclaimed, skidding back to let her check out the jewellery. Silva noted that it was a bit small, but she could see the chain and embellishment attached to it; she realized it was a love heart with the intricate engravings of a Bliss flower, the chain attached to the mouth of the python.

It was certainly a strange choice of gift, but not one she was against nor unused to wearing.

Wait… where’s my locket? Silva realized her golden necklace was missing. Which shouldn’t be possible. She took special care in ensuring it was close to her. I can’t have lost it! It’s too valuable! It’s the only way to feel close to-!

Silva felt a weight over her shoulders, which happened to be Faith slumping herself onto Silva’s back, wrapping her arms around the taller woman.

“I hope you like it,” Faith murmured into Silva’s dark skin, the vibrations of her voice like a tickle that caused her to shudder, “It made me think of you.”

Before Silva could form a reply, Faith pressed a soft peck on her cheek, much to the surprise of her companion.

She receded to the shell of Silva’s ear, whispering, “Happy Valentines.”

Silva had been trying to make heads and tails of the nature of their relationship, especially with this strange exhausting fog over her mind hindering her ability to even think clearly, but she just got her confirmation.

She was with Faith Seed. I’m with Faith Seed…

She was in the presence of Faith Seed – futilely struggling against the accompanying Peggies guarding the herald with declining strength – the Deputy’s allies were forced to retreat from the fields they’d been ambushed in, leaving Silva at the mercy of the Siren, who drew closer with a closed fist.

Faith wasn’t angry though; in her fist were more of the white powdered Bliss she manufactured in the Henbane. Her expression lacked the emotion too. Displayed across her face was-

“Silva? Is something the matter?” Faith asked her, head on her shoulder from behind. Glancing down, she saw such beautiful green eyes conveying a worry she hadn’t seen for a long while in anyone; at least, anyone close to her.

Silva felt the fog cloud her mind again, and she could almost feel an ache pounding in her skull; like an alarm alerting of danger. But looking around the foliage and mist of the Bliss, Silva could not find the supposed danger her mind screamed was close by. Not near her, not her amour, nor the big bed they shared under the hazy sun.

She tried to remember what she had been thinking about, but couldn’t recall, as if her mind was playing tricks on her again.

“Nothing… just that,” she stammered, thinking on any possibility, before she realized she’d been touching her new necklace, and came up with a different issue, “I didn’t get you a gift.”

Faith giggled, gently tugging Silva so the latter woman could turn around to the former. Once Silva had done as instructed, Faith leaned forward and softly told her, “Having you here is more than enough of a gift for me.”

Soon, she pressed a hand against Silva’s chest and started to tenderly push her down onto the mattress of their shared bed; Faith moving closer until she straddled Silva’s hips, leaning forward above her submissive partner.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Faith began, letting out an elated sigh as she stared down at Silva with such intense green eyes, “The grip you have on me. You never stopped invading my thoughts ever since you arrived. I could never get you out of my head, not when you showed up here, time and time again. There was always more to you than what my brothers could see… than what the Father saw.”

She descended closer to Silva’s face, continuing, “That determination. That fierceness. Most of all that cunning intellect. You’re stronger than you let on. No one’s noticed… no one except me of course.”

Faith smirked above her; a smirk Silva found familiar, something that alarmed her, interested her, left her bothered as she felt hot. She noticed that the sky above them seemed to blur from a visage of the heavens to a cold steel ceiling, the sun more akin to a bright light.

“My brothers don’t see it, or refuse to, but you’re just so… good,” Faith purred out, trailing her fingers down Silva’s face to the necklace, “So worthy of crossing Eden’s Gate. I envy that. Maybe they do too… but that could just be me.”

She giggles, and Silva found herself lost on any action she could do. Her mind seemed foggier than before. Names she knew kept slipping; important details drifting from her conscious thoughts into some sleepless dream.

“They want you though,” Faith kept speaking, even if Silva could no longer infer what exactly she was talking about, “They want you all to themselves, so they can fix you, because they think you’re already broken. But they’ll only end up breaking you instead. I don’t think you’re broken, though. I think you’re perfect. And they’ll only end up corrupting what’s so good about you.”

“But I won’t let them,” her fingers hooked under Silva’s necklace, pulling her up to meet closer to Faith’s delighted face, “Because you’re safe here, with me… in the Bliss.”

“And if they try to take you away from me,” Faith brought her hand up, beckoning a green mist of Bliss to dance around her delicate fingers through will alone, “Even though I would never go against my brothers… I’m sure I can convince them to see from my perspective. Just like those locusts from the prison…”

Faces Silva thought she recognized popped up in her mind’s eye, but they soon blurred into oblivion as all she could see was Faith.

“But it probably won’t come down to that,” Faith assured, dissipating the mist in her hands as she caressed Silva’s cheek with her palm, while her other hand flicked the pendant with that familiar smirk again, “Once they see a glimpse of this, they’ll know to back off.”

Silva recognized a dangerous glint in those green eyes, one which invoked a dying voice in her mind being drowned out by the overwhelming citrus and fog. It pushed her to do anything; anything to defy this, to refuse it. Not accept.

But all Silva could muster out was a soft, slurred question, “What makes you say that?”

In response, Faith lowered herself until they were face to face, lips barely gracing the other. A part of Silva wanted to connect… even if she wasn’t entirely sure that was what she really wanted.

“Because there’s a meaning behind it,” Faith replied, her smirk widening. Too familiar, Silva’s mind screamed as it became less and less clear, Remember, danger!

“And what’s the meaning?” she asked as that smirk reminded Silva of a memory involving it.

Silva could hardly process what came before and next; in no small part thanks to the Bliss ravaging her memories. She remembered just as Faith finally lowered herself to her lips, there was a murmur as they connected, a murmur that synchronized with the same possessive words she whispered to her fading consciousness in the aftermath of the ambush within those Bliss fields.

“You’re mine.”

[chuluoyi]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 (𝐔𝐍)𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋

- sylus x reader

master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, fluff, unrequited love, explicit smut, fwb, jealousy, hurt/comfort, description of major injury, blood loss, gore, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), spoilers! takes place throughout long-awaited revelry

note: my very first love and deepspace fic! :') w.c 5.2k ! i have a severe brainrot omg

Everyone knows of your relationship with Sylus.

The leader of Onychinus and his notorious lady assassin, you two strike fear into his foes and allies alike. You are as deadly as you are beautiful, and that's more or less why he keeps you around.

What everyone doesn't know, however... is that behind closed doors, you too share his wealth and his bed.

“I don't mind to spend the whole night with you,” he’d whisper in your ear seductively at nights, deft and veiny hands roaming your body all over. He often made you ride on top of him, dark burgundy eyes hazed with lust, knowing full well that you desired the very same goal he did.

And you’d respond his hunger with the same fervor, crashing your lips into his, your tongues intertwining, your hips moving vigorously against him.

“Ahh... ah!” Before you knew it, his cock—thick and long in size—slid inside you in such a snug fit, making you throw your head back and dig your sharp nails into his skin.

“Keep me going with your voice, kitten.” Sylus growled, eyeing your wobbling lips and tightly-pressed eyes as he sank even deeper inside you. “Yeah, just like that...”

Sylus always began roughly, seemingly not minding your breathless moans and wishes, and you liked him that way too—

“Is this... all you've got?” you panted in a hoarse voice, sweat lining your neck and forehead, the coil in your belly tightened so deliciously each time he thrusted into you. “Surely... y-you can do better...”

“Ha,” he gave a low snort, his red eyes blazing as he grabbed your bum and squeezed it, making you gasp. “Careful what you wish for... sweetie.”

And then your vision literally tilted upside down—Sylus gladly flipped your position so he could see you even better. This way, he also had even better access to you, intertwining your hand with his, spreading your legs wide so he could rut into you.

“—!” Breath was knocked out of your lungs as immeasurable pleasure washed over you, crashing and receding in an instant. You almost screamed as your back arched.

He broke into a satisfied smirk. “Let it out,” he murmured against your neck, biting gently into your skin, voice muffled. “You never hold back with me, do you, hmm? So, don’t start now.”

“You b-bastard...” you looked up at him with a breathless smile, knowing how close you were to losing your wits.

He simply made your nights worth remember. His allure was undeniable, with a voice that was naturally sultry. And his hands... fuck, they did heaven's work.

It didn't take you long to finally reach your climax, and once you did, your moans were the nastiest all night as you continuously lined his back with scratches.

You could feel how he was chasing his own orgasm all the while, before pulling out right at the last minute and made a mess on your belly, falling beside you.

“Tired?” Sylus’ chest rumbled with laughter as you laid sprawled there in a haze. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your burning cheeks. “I really like this look on your face right now.”

You rolled your eyes, catching your breath and shivered. “I bet you tell that to all other women you manage to lure to your bed.”

“How presumptuous.” He sent you a sour scowl. “I have a high standard— you should consider yourself lucky.”

Well, you do. Holding back a smile, you changed the topic. “I’m cold. Clean me up already.”

“Now, now… what a spoiled little thing you are…” Sylus chuckled, his voice deep and low, yet wrapping his arms around you nonetheless, hoisting you up.

Nights of passion. Mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more and less.

No strings attached.

This is thrilling. Intimacy without commitment is more than enough to spice your checkered life. After all, what could be better and more rewarding than fucking the hottest man in N109 Zone and getting away with it?

At least, you thought so.

. . .

“Damn, you’re going to make me sore…” you grumbled, letting out a deep sigh as you sank into the sheets after he had cleaned you up, still basking in the afterglow and ready to drift off to sleep. “Ahh...”

Sylus’ lips curved into a wry smile as he watched you make yourself comfortable on his bed, slipping on his black shirt. “Well, I’m just that good, and you did ask for it.”

“Are you going out?” you asked in a small voice, teetering between sleep and wakefulness as you noticed him taking out his favorite gun. “It’s midnight.”

“Luke and Kieran said she has arrived.” Sylus said in low voice, not even sparing you a look. “After all, she has gone through all that trouble to come here, it is only right that I greet her myself.”

The woman. Sylus had told you several times, how a woman with Aether Core and powerful Resonance Evol would eventually come to N109 Zone. And that when the time came, he would make her resonate with him.

A part of you didn’t really know what to feel about this vague plan of his. “Will you bring her here too?”

“I’ll have her stay here until we have reached resonance,” he responded casually while shrugging on his coat.

Sylus valued others depending on their worth. He said it so himself—he isn't a philanthropist. He saw potential in your evol—the Speech Manipulation—which is why he rescued you three years ago, even after you had swung a blade to his throat.

This time must be the same. You played with the edges of your hair. “Well, consider me jealous then. Seems like I’ll have a rival soon.”

Your quip finally caught his attention, as he finally turned to you, one side of his mouth upturned.

“Ha.” Sylus strolled over to where you lay on the bed and placed a hand under your chin, letting out a throaty chuckle. “Is there even anyone brave enough to go against you?”

You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “We shall see about that.”

Little did you know, the coming of this new girl would be the start of the undoing of your mutually beneficial relationship.

You would've expected the woman bearing Aether Core inside her to be way more interesting than that clueless, weak and easily spooked hunter from Linkon City.

But your and Sylus' definitions of interesting clearly differed though, as you caught him smiling after he pulled the most outrageous stunt on himself— having her shoot him right in the heart.

“She is funny,” he said to himself, almost snickering even as you wiped the blood off his toned body. “She was shaking so much the moment I pulled the trigger.”

“Is that your only finding—” you snapped as you wrapped the bandage around his bare chest, fuming. “—after shooting yourself just to mess with her?”

Luke and Kieran told you how he had used his Evol to pull the hunter girl onto his lap, then handed her a gun and made her shoot him. You couldn't believe it at first, until the sight of Sylus staggering to his bedroom, his shirt bloodied and clutching his chest made you almost scream in horror.

“Is that really necessary?” you scowled, tightening the bandage with more force than needed. “Or are you just trying to get her attention?”

Sylus’ sharp gaze settled on you then, seemingly not taking your comment well.

“What’s got you so worked up about this, hmm?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he observed your cross expression. “Last I checked, we agreed not to get involved in each other’s personal affairs.”

Personal affairs, he said? Everything you two had done had long past breached all personal boundaries.

But the fact remains that you two are nothing more than—

“Fine.” You tied the bandage abruptly and about to storm off, making no effort to conceal your ire. You couldn’t say you were worried or that you hated seeing blood smeared across him. That was never in the agreement.

Until you felt a hard tug on your arm—

“And where does the angry kitty think she is going, hmm?”

Before you could discern it, your back was pressed against the wall—your left arm pinned beside your head, with Sylus filling your view.

His sculpted abs were right in front of you for the taking, his scent permeated the air, and his unsettling swirls of crimson eyes had you completely captivated.

“Have I ever told you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?” Sylus laughed as he leaned in, gripping your chin with his other hand. “If I didn’t know you were more than capable of slitting my throat in my sleep, I’d want you to look at me like this every day.”

It struck you how your heart raced wildly under his intense gaze. With his perfect face so close, the only sound that seemed to be most prominent was the pounding of your own heartbeat.

“What’s wrong? We’ve been closer than this,” Sylus taunted with a wide grin, his breath warm against your ear as he pressed his body against yours. “What’s making you so nervous?”

If you knew anything about Sylus, it was that he took pleasure in seeing you squirm in his hold. You glared daggers at him. “I hate you.”

“How lovely.”

“You’re infuriating,” you spat, devoid of any amusement.

He barked a satisfied bout of laugh once again, before releasing your chin. However, to your surprise, that very same hand groped your chest roughly—

“Then perhaps...” he hummed, a wicked glint in his red eyes, whispering to you with sultry voice right before he pulled you into him and devour your lips in heat: “You can help to fix me, sweetie.”

His kisses were hot as his tongue and hands made his mark on your body. Pressed against his bare skin, you gripped his strong, broad shoulders as he lifted your legs to his waist.

As always, he managed to dissolve all your lingering thoughts with lust. You just never knew one day you would finally reach the last straw though.

. . .

"Are you going out again tonight?" you muttered, tracing your fingers along his abs as you lay in his arms, still a bit giddy after your passionate session.

"No, I'm sleepy," he replied quickly, his voice low as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep already, kitten."

"I can't sleep."

"Poor you. I can though."

You quirked a frown at him. "You're so annoying these days."

"Oh?" Sylus cracked his eyes open, a smirk on his lips. "If you find me so disagreeable, you can always make me obey you, no?"

Your speech manipulation could make people do your bidding and it was a pretty useful talent. Apart from the first day you met Sylus three years ago in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you had never tried using it on him again.

"I won't, you idiot." You sighed and turned away, your back facing him. The idea of bending him to your will somehow didn't sit right with you. It was against your conscience now.

"Why are you facing away? It's freezing," he grumbled almost in a petulant voice. You nearly rolled your eyes, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.

"Why are you hugging me? We’re not usually this touchy after sex."

"I'm telling you, I'm cold, and you're my heat pillow."

"You're so damn insufferable..."

Despite your sharp retort, a smile found its way to your face. Moments like this were rare, and when he was the one seeking you, you couldn't help these butterflies in your stomach. Still...

You two are not in love, dammit. Sometimes it confused you a great deal. What is love anyway?

“Caw, caw, caw!”

“Mephisto, shush.”

Sylus’ robotic pet crow had surprisingly taken a liking to you shortly after you began living in the base. He obeyed your commands just as he did with his owner. The same couldn’t be said for Miss Hunter though, as Mephisto seemed to have a strong dislike for her.

You were idling at the living room with the crow when you realized how close it was to dawn.

“Luke, Kieran,” you called to the twins, who were bickering over a crate of oranges, frowning. “Where did Sylus go?”

Both stopped and looked at you, and Kieran blurted out, “Boss? Oh, he went out with Miss Hunter!”

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were nonetheless. “And he still hasn’t come back?”

“Ah, yeah... but I think they just went on a short errand. He’s probably back or already on his way?” Luke mused, and you clicked your tongue.

It irritated you, it gnawed at you—how Sylus had been spending so much time with that hunter these days. He was trying to make her resonate with him, but still, the way you saw it, he was going through his playbook—

Just as he had done when he pursued you.

Calling her “kitten”, “sweetie”... everything he did with her seemed like a replay of the first year you spent in this place.

Deep down, perhaps you had hoped that, in some way, Sylus would see you as you saw him. Love might be out of reach in your bleak existences, but you at least wished he would consider you an irreplaceable presence.

You were petty, and you knew it.

“Mephisto,” you whispered to the cooing crow as it turned to you pliantly. “Go find and bother her, okay? Don’t let her out of your sight,” you added, letting the bird fly away on your command.

Deciding to rest in his room, you left the living room with a sense of exhaustion. You had stayed up for Sylus on a whim, as he had promised to share his plans for the upcoming auction soon. However, sleeping at dawn was giving you frequent headaches, and the habit was wearing on you.

You took a bath and then headed to his bedroom, and you would have never guessed what scene you'd walk into—

Sylus, in his bathrobe, and that girl… nestled against his chest on his bed. The very same bed where you two made out just the other night.

“Y/N?” Sylus looked at you over the girl’s shoulder, and you were frozen on the spot, feeling an indescribable rush of emotions washing over you.

In the next moment, the hunter girl scrambled away from him in panic, her face flushed with shame. “I-it’s not what it looks like! I swear! Sylus— I was just trying to find his brooch and—!”

In that instant, something inside you turned ice-cold. Her frantic explanations—none of it registered to you. The fact that he let her into his bed was enough for you.

You weren’t sure if Sylus noticed, but your eyes darkened, your fists clenched, and a storm raged within your chest.

“Sorry for intruding,” you said frostily, cutting her off and casting a contemptuous glance at both of them before turning on your heel and slamming the door shut.

It was no use, you finally realized. In this twisted relationship you two shared, there could never be anything more than hot sex and flirtations.

Somehow it hurt more deeply than you expected, as though your heart were being scorched. Yet, you couldn’t even find the tears to cry—as you weren't allowed to do so.

Sylus noticed the change in you immediately.

You vanished from the base and returned in the evening, not sparing him even a look and he could tell then that you had come back a different woman.

And it was the part he hated the most. These days, he couldn't read you at all.

"Luke and Kieran, keep an eye on her tonight," he instructed his two underlings as the two of them were getting ready.

"Who? Miss Hunter?" Luke questioned.

"Or the missus?" Kieran supplied.

Both of them liked you as well. Unlike him, you’d spend your free time indulging their nonsense, and over time, they even gave you that friendly moniker.

They didn't really know the nature of your physical relationship though. Or at least, didn't really know fully.

"The latter," Sylus gruffly replied, and then he went to the hunter girl to prepare her as well.

He had a justified explanation. If you had asked him, he would tell you nothing had happened. Your ire was better than silence, definitely a hundred times better than this.

But why didn't you come to him?

And why does he want you to come and demand him for an explanation?

However, tonight was the auction for the Aether Core. He had to finish this first before he could get a word with you later.

At least that was what Sylus had thought... until he saw you at the auction venue.

You were stunning in that black cocktail dress. He didn’t know when you had your hair done, but you looked as if you had spent the entire day preparing for this occasion despite having barely two hours after coming back. You were definitely a head-turner, drawing the attention of many vermin as you navigated the ballroom with grace and everlasting smile.

And it grated at him. Severely. Sylus's eyes were locked on each lowlife hell-bent on taking his life and desperate to get into your pants, knowing he would end them all tonight.

...and as if it wasn't enough, he then saw you entertaining one of them with that sort of smile you used to reserve for him.

. . .

"Mm-hm, really?"

"Yes, I've heard they are inside the safe number 209."

You coyly smirked, looking the man with mask in front of you, whom you had led to a deserted hallway, who had been complying and smiling at each and every question of yours.

"Thank you then." You flashed him your best smile, about to go back to the main hall.

"And uh, miss," he suddenly turned to you in a flurry. "I believe I haven't gotten your name—"

You chuckled, facing him again. "Oh, you want to know my name?"

"Very much so!"

This was like bread and butter to you. You effortlessly wrapped an arm around the man's neck, standing on your tiptoes, and whispered in his ear:

"Halt."

He went rigid the moment the command left your lips, and you could feel his panic rising as you pulled away.

"W-what happened—!?" he thrashed against the invisible hold manifested by your Evol in pure panic, to no avail, whereas you regarded at him with a cold smile.

"What a shame. I planned to let you be, but then you gave me the perfect opportunity." You maintained your eerie smile as you pulled out a thin, needle-like blade from the hem of your dress. "You have been a great help. Thank you."

With that, you slit his throat, and blood splattered onto the ground in a continuous pool as he jerked, collapsing like a broken statue.

You felt nothing at the sight, but you knew you weren't alone as you felt his presence.

"You started the party without me?" Sylus' deep voice resonated through the hall. "Didn't know you have that much of bloodlust this early, sweetie."

The clench of your heart was still there, even when you had decided to discard all your lingering feelings for this man. Still, you put on the perfect poker face when you met his eyes.

"I want this to be over and done with quick. I'm exhausted already."

Sylus eyed you calmly, yet somehow it felt as if the depths of those red eyes were trying to assess your soul. "Your actions said otherwise. Is flirting with him necessary?"

"You're one to talk, Boss," you scoffed at the last word. "As long as it entertains me, why isn't it?"

Sylus didn't deign you with an answer, and you decided to pour more oil into it.

"Strictly professional, no?" You lifted your chin defiantly. "Last I checked, we were not supposed to meddle in personal affairs—"

You didn't realize it until he did, because the next thing you knew, his right eye suddenly glowed with that terrifying shade of crimson. "You—!"

He has seen it all. In the three years since he took you in, Sylus had never used his Aether Core-infused right eye on you to peek into your mind. The first and only time it had happened was when he restrained you from attacking him on the day you first met.

This was the second time. And now, he knows. Of your petty feelings, of your deepest, truest desire.

At first, Sylus remained silent, but then his eyes narrowed at you, low voice booming through the hall.

"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Y/N."

And after all that he knew, that was the only thing he could come up with?

You felt shame wash over you. You wanted to run from him. This was too much because he most definitely didn’t reciprocate your feelings, did he?

"I don't want to hear it," you resolved, the space around you felt constricting all of a sudden. You walked past him, about to break into a sprint—

Sylus immediately caught a hold of your arm though, sending a glare at you. "You—"

"It ends here," you blurted in heat. "I don't want it anymore. We're through, Sylus."

"Listen to me!"

He snarled at you, and it was the very first time he did so. However, you paid him no mind and pulled out your ace card, staring hard into his eyes. You could feel the start of his black and red mist, but your Evol was faster—

"Move."

His hold on you loosened, and he jerked back several foot away from the impact. You kept your manipulation on him, avoiding his fury-blazed eyes, bolting away before he could catch you.

. . .

The night escalated so much worse than you had imagined. Explosions and a sudden appearance of an Arbiterwings threw the whole auction into chaos.

You were fighting off the sudden wave of wanderers alone, relying solely on your blade since your voice was too hoarse to use your Evol. When one of them struck you and sent you crashing into a wall, you just sat there in a daze.

It was exhausting. Usually, Sylus would be by your side, covering your back at the very least. He wouldn't let a single scratch get to you. His black and red mist of doom would dominate the battlefield, offering you protection while at it.

You loved that bastard. It was so beyond stupid. Why did you have to ruin everything by having these feelings? If your heart was gone, would these feelings go with it too?

You got your answer sooner than you thought.

White-hot pain engulfed you when something impaled you right in the chest. The searing agony was mind-blinding, the only thing you could discern was your own wails.

No, the feelings didn’t go. Even as you teetered on the brink of death, that damned love only evolved into many regrets.

And in your final moments, you could've sworn you felt the exact moment your heart stopped beating.

"Oh my god! Luke! She is here!"

"Kieran...! Is she alive?!"

"So much blood—! Luke, call Boss! Call Boss here!"

"Boss! We found her!"

"What do we do?! Shit! It's right... in her heart..."

"What!? Boss! S-she is...! Oh lord..."

You had a dream, and it was of your first meeting with Sylus.

Three years ago, in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you were a mere scavenger until he found you. You had thought he was a threat much like others in this lawless city, so you unwittingly showcased your Evol before him in defense, until he pinned you down on the hard ground, crimson eyes holding you in place.

"I'm giving you two options: go with me and live, or die here in vain," he had told you then, a smug smile on his face. "I assure you, so long as you're still useful to me, you won't have to worry about food or roof above your head ever again."

What kind of homeless person would refuse that tempting offer?

Since you followed him, Sylus had never been untrue to his word. He made good of his words, idly engaged you in his circle, showered you with gifts, and at one point—

"You're... trying to tempt me, aren't you?" he growled amidst kisses, pinning you on his desk. Apparently, seeing you up close and personal every day in his home had worn down his patience. He was just a man, after all.

You wickedly giggled, even breathless, cradling both sides of his face and admiring those ruby eyes of his. "What if... I am?"

"Then consider me tempted, little kitten," he chuckled, his baritone voice casting a spell over you. "Remember though, curiosity can kill most cats."

Thus began your thrilling relationship, and you knew you would gladly stay with him just to have a taste of that heaven. And you knew too, he wouldn't cast you easily this way.

And of course, so long as you are useful to him, that is.

When you came to, you felt warm, and your position was so comfortable that you were almost lulled back to sleep.

At first, it didn't register to you where you were. The scene before you was so familiar, but you were so lethargic that you were late to recognize it.

"Awake?"

Sylus' bedroom. The realization dawned on you as that deep, low voice questioned you flatly. You jerked instinctively, looking up at him as he came into view, holding a glass of wine.

He was still the same. Even with you out of commission, he would still indulge himself with his wine. Somehow you couldn't really pinpoint what you should feel about it.

However, Sylus then did the thing you didn't expect him to. He went back to his pantry to get a glass of water, and then he came to your side to prop you up.

"Drink," he commanded, positioning the glass on your chapped lips. You complied and did so, feeling relief for your throat. Once you were finished, he gently laid you back on the bed and tucked you in, never once taking his eyes off you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Have been better," you quipped dryly. Then it dawned on you that he had never been this gentle with you before. He was showing care, which confirmed one theory you had about him: Sylus could be considerate when he chose to be.

The very fact that you ended back here didn't really faze you much, because in the end, you belonged to him out of all people. Just one thing that still didn't make sense in your mind: "What did you do?"

His burgundy eyes squared at you. "What?"

"There’s no way I could've survived that," you mumbled, trying to gauge his reaction. "You must’ve done something."

“Ha, when it comes to these things, you’re sharp,” Sylus said with a light scoff, and you frowned.

"Answer me."

"Aether Core," he supplied. "It was now in you, repairing your coronary system."

"You..." you were rendered speechless. "You—what? You infused my heart with a Protocore...?"

Just like the one in his eye, he had implanted you with that dangerous fragment that was from something as horrific as a Wanderer. The very thought made your breath hitch.

"Stay calm," he commanded, his hand found yours when he noticed your horrified expression, squeezing it as if to provide some sort of reassurance. "You'll be fine."

"H-how... why..."

"That was your only chance, or you would’ve been dead." Sylus' tone was harsher now, his jaw set firmly. "I keep telling you not to rush in carelessly, and yet you did. Did you even know how bad your state was when I found you? No, you didn't."

The way he spoke made you feel as though you were being blamed, and overwhelmed with your frustration, you retorted sharply, "No one asked you to save me."

Awkward silence lingered for a good one minute after your jab. You turned away from him, feeling conflicted, because you knew you should be grateful that he did so, because it meant the Aether Core inside you now was the one he had been looking for in that auction.

He gave it up to save you.

Still, it confused you.

“If I died...” you began, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Then it just means I’m no longer useful to you. You always discard things that no longer serve your purpose.”

You turned back to him, meeting his impassive gaze. “So why? Did you pity me after discovering my feelings? Is that why?”

There are many labels in your relationship. Master and servant. Onychinus leader and his right-hand woman. But you were also his lover, even unsaid. Was that fact that did it? Or a mere charity for the weak, you?

Suddenly, Sylus placed his palm over your chest, right where your heartbeat pulsed. You stiffened, bracing for some sort of impact.

But no, it wasn’t anything sensual like he usually did. His hand—large and warm—was a comforting presence, resting on your chest and feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Haven't I told you that I never act out of pity?" Sylus' voice was strained but softer than usual, his deep burgundy eyes holding yours. "Do you really need me to spell it out?"

You didn't dare to look away, for the moment of truth was right in front of you.

"My only regret is not being able to pull you back," he said quietly, his tone somber. "I shouldn't have let you get hurt."

Oh. You blinked, taking in his sincere words, something inside you softening and warming at his words.

You had noticed it too. Despite his roguish exterior, he had always looked after you during your time together. It was just that you hadn’t dared to hope for more.

“The naughty little kitten has managed to worm her way into me, it seems,” he chuckled then, flashing you that cocky smile. “So now, she has to be held responsible for her actions.”

His red gaze narrowed as he added. “Moreover, since I have saved your life— you owe it to me not to throw it away so easily. So you can’t rush into danger carelessly again, you hear?”

Those playful remarks were enough to dispel your doubts and insecurities. They answered everything you had been questioning, and knowing it, finally you let out a relieved sigh and exasperated snort. “You shameless bastard...”

And when he leaned in to place a fleeting, innocent kiss on your forehead, you realized that, in his own way, he saw you just as you saw him, even if only a little.

Sylus settled into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his arm. Tonight, there were no passionate kisses, no steamy foreplay, or dirty talks— just you being alive and well in his embrace.

“How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks, woman. Luke and Kieran keep mourning you everyday.”

“Three weeks?! How did you manage without me for that long?”

Sylus glanced at you, a contented smile on his face as he held you close. “It’s been horrid.”

Neither of you would be caught dead saying “I love you”, and yet, regardless, you knew that right this moment meant so much more.

[dior-luxury]

Love your works. Can I request a fluffy romantic sleepover scenario with the housewardens x female reader please? Thank you

The Sleepover

( ✧ ) ────── boyfriend stories . fluff - no prns .

- [𝐜𝐡.] dormleaders

- [𝐩:𝐬] Kissing / Physical Affection . Comfort Fic / Hurt-Comfort Vibes . Established Relationship

Note: Finally did your request @alastor-simp, hope you like it!

Riddle Rosehearts

You were already brushing your teeth in Riddle’s private bathroom when he poked his head in, fresh from changing into his immaculate sleepwear: crimson silk pajamas, white trim, buttoned all the way to the top. His hair was slightly tousled from the towel he’d used to dry it, and without his uniform or dorm leader posture, he looked… young. Softer. Like the boy beneath all the rules.

"You’re using my toothbrush cup," he murmured with a little smile.

"And you’re wearing the pajama set I got you for Valentine's," you shot back with a grin.

He blinked, mildly flustered. "They’re... comfortable."

Once the two of you were settled in his bed — everything folded just so, duvet fluffed to Riddle-standard perfection — he reached out, guiding you closer with a hand at the small of your back. His touch was gentle, like he was afraid you might vanish if he wasn’t careful.

“You always bring a kind of chaos with you,” he whispered, his nose brushing against your cheek, "but… it’s the kind I think I might need."

You laughed quietly and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of rose tea and crisp linen. He had a book on his nightstand, half-read, but he didn’t reach for it tonight. Instead, he just lay there with you, fingers tracing idle patterns along your back.

At one point, he pulled back just slightly, enough to kiss your forehead — once, then again, just a little to the side.

“I’ve always believed rules bring peace,” he said softly. “But with you here, I realize… peace can be warmth, too. Messy, unpredictable, but warm.”

You curled into his chest, heart quietly glowing at the rare emotional vulnerability he offered. His arms tightened around you, and the two of you drifted into sleep with your hands intertwined, the silence broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves outside and the rhythmic heartbeat beneath your ear.

That night, Riddle didn’t dream of tea parties or exams — only strawberry constellations and the way you smiled at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona’s idea of a sleepover was less about planning and more about dragging you into his world of naps and laziness — but the romance in it? Unspoken, constant, and powerful.

You were already under the covers in his massive bed, wearing one of his soft, oversized tank tops that smelled like sandalwood and summer heat. Leona lay beside you shirtless, his arm lazily thrown over his eyes, his tail flicking against the sheets in contentment.

"You keep fidgeting," he drawled, not opening his eyes. "You're worse than a sand flea."

You smirked and rolled toward him, draping yourself across his chest. "You love it."

He cracked one golden eye open. "Tch. Unfortunately for me, yeah."

Leona wasn’t one for mushy words in the daylight, but here, in the quiet dark, he became a little different. He let you touch the soft curve of his ear, his tail loosely wrapping around your leg in that instinctive, possessive way.

“You’re comfortable,” you whispered.

"Mm. So are you," he muttered, his voice deeper and more intimate in the silence of the room. "You're the only person I let in this close. You know that, right?"

You nodded against his chest. “You don’t have to say it. I can feel it.”

Still, after a long silence, he spoke again — low and gruff, but honest:

"...I used to sleep alone by choice. Thought I preferred it that way. But now… if you’re not here, it’s like the whole damn room feels wrong.”

You smiled softly and kissed his collarbone, and he exhaled — a quiet sound of surrender. His hand found your waist under the covers, warm and grounding, holding you like you were part of him. Not an accessory to his life, but a vital piece of it.

Outside the window, the breeze whispered through the night like a lullaby. Leona’s breathing evened out, one hand tangled in your hair, his body curved protectively around yours.

And just before sleep took him, you heard him murmur:

“Stay the whole night. Stay for the morning. Hell… stay as long as you want. I’m not lettin’ go.”

Azul Ashengrotto

You knocked gently on the door to Azul’s room, feeling your heart flutter. Though you'd been dating for a while now, staying the night in his private quarters was still a rare treat — something he hadn’t quite gotten used to offering, even if his expression always softened when you asked.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing Azul — no glasses, sleeves rolled, a surprised blink in his silver-blue eyes.

“Y-you’re early,” he stammered, then gave a quick, embarrassed smile. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

His room was dimly lit with soft, bioluminescent blues, the ocean theme present but muted — elegant. Nautilus shells adorned the shelves, and the low hum of water magic pulsed subtly through the walls like a heartbeat. You walked in with your overnight bag and saw that he’d already prepared a second cup of tea, neatly arranged beside a stack of parchment and a spellbook. As always, Azul tried to make things perfect.

He gestured toward the velvet couch near the fireplace. “I thought perhaps we could start with a little tea and reading, or — if you’d prefer — I could show you a new potion I’ve been working on for relaxation…”

You dropped your bag, walked over, and gently wrapped your arms around him instead.

Azul froze.

Then, after a long second, he let out a breathy chuckle and rested his forehead against your shoulder. “You always manage to disarm me, you know that?”

Later that night, when you were in your pajamas (he lent you one of his oversized Octavinelle robes — comically big, but warm and smelling like sea salt and citrus), the two of you lay beneath a navy blanket, the enchanted ceiling mimicking the ocean surface above.

Azul, no longer the composed businessman, pulled you close — shy at first, then more confidently once he felt your hand reach for his. You nestled into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the silk.

“I used to think I was safest alone,” he whispered, thumb brushing across your knuckles. “But when you’re here, the silence feels... gentle. Like I’m not just waiting for the tides to shift anymore.”

He kissed your temple — tentative but full of meaning — and tucked you close beneath his chin. The light from the ceiling dimmed as you both drifted into quiet conversation, then soft silence, wrapped in each other and the ebbing tide of sleep.

And that night, Azul didn’t dream of contracts or power plays — only the comfort of someone who stayed not for what he could offer, but simply because they loved him.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim greeted you the moment you stepped into the dorm — arms wide, grin beaming like the sun. "You're here! You're really here!" he cheered, practically tackling you into a hug that lifted you off the ground.

You laughed as he spun you once before setting you down, his joy infectious and unfiltered.

His room was extravagant, but in a cozy, familiar way. There were layers of vibrant blankets and embroidered pillows, gold and crimson drapery fluttering from the warm breeze that wafted through the arched windows. The ceiling above was open tonight — enchanted to reveal the real desert night sky — thousands of stars twinkling in full view.

“I made sure the cooks prepared all your favorite snacks!” Kalim said, dragging you to a low table overflowing with treats. “And I told Jamil to take the night off so it’s just us!”

You spent hours sprawled across a plush nest of pillows, laughing, sharing stories from the week, feeding each other fruit dipped in honey. Kalim, ever the affectionate one, would rest his head in your lap when he got sleepy, or tug you into his side like a human blanket. He was completely at ease around you — happy, open, unafraid.

And when it was finally time to sleep, he practically glowed with excitement.

"You can have all the pillows you want!" he offered, already tugging you onto the oversized bed. “Actually, never mind — just sleep right next to me.”

So you did. You curled up against him under layers of soft, embroidered blankets. Kalim’s warmth wasn’t just physical — it was the kind that radiated from someone who loved deeply and sincerely. He pressed a soft kiss to your hair and whispered into the starlit hush:

"Did you know? When I was little, I’d wish on stars for someone like you."

You smiled, snuggling closer. “And did the stars answer?”

His arm tightened around you. "They must have. ‘Cause I can’t imagine anyone better.”

The sound of Kalim’s breathing slowed and deepened, his body warm and relaxed beside yours. He slept like someone with nothing to fear — and you slept like someone who finally understood what it felt like to be cherished.

The stars above shimmered, silent witnesses to a night that felt like magic wrapped in gold and laughter.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil’s room was its usual masterpiece — pristine, elegant, and softly illuminated by gold sconces and candlelight. A gentle mist of his favorite essential oil diffused through the air, and a playlist of low, instrumental piano music played quietly in the background. He was waiting by the vanity, brushing out his long golden hair with slow, deliberate strokes when you walked in with your overnight bag.

"You're ten minutes late, liebchen," he said, arching a sculpted brow, but there was a sparkle of mischief in his amethyst eyes.

"Fashionably late?" you offered with a grin.

He scoffed, setting down his brush. "Lucky for you, I allow a certain level of chaos when it's you."

You knew Vil was careful with his routines, his space, and especially his sleep — so the fact that he invited you into this deeply personal bubble meant more than he ever put into words.

After your evening skincare ritual (which he guided with precision, dabbing product onto your cheeks with a tenderness that surprised even him), you changed into matching silk pajamas — his idea, naturally. As you both slipped into the large bed with its silky ivory sheets and plush pillows, Vil turned to you, perfectly composed but visibly more at ease in the soft light.

"You always look at me like I'm... human," he murmured, running a hand gently along your arm. "Not a celebrity. Not a dorm leader. Just me."

You rested your head on his chest, fingers tracing lazy spirals over his heart. "That’s because I love you. Not the brand. You."

Vil let out a slow breath, his usual guarded exterior melting. “Then allow me a rare indulgence, darling.”

He turned and kissed you slowly — no theatrics, no pose — just warmth, sincerity, and quiet devotion. When he pulled away, he tucked your hair behind your ear and laid his forehead against yours.

"You’re good for me," he whispered.

Later, when the candles flickered out, and all that remained was the sound of your breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets, Vil pulled you close in his sleep — face softened by dreams, lips parted in a small smile. No mirrors, no cameras, no critics. Just you, and the safety of love unspoken but deeply felt.

Idia Shroud

When Idia first invited you over for a sleepover, you honestly thought he was joking. Not because he didn’t love you — you knew he did, deeply, painfully, in the way that made him stutter and overthink every time you smiled at him — but because this was Idia. The man whose greatest battle wasn’t a raid boss, but eye contact.

So when you stood at his door with your overnight bag, you expected him to panic.

Instead, the door hissed open, blue flames flickering low and soft, and there he was: hoodie a little too big, slippers shaped like some obscure anime mascot, and a red face that could probably power a toaster.

“Y-you really came,” he mumbled, eyes wide behind his glasses. “I had like... a 14% chance calculated, based on previous patterns... but you actually— I mean—uhh... welcome?”

You stepped inside, and instantly felt like you’d been dropped into a neon-saturated sanctuary. His room was dark but glowing — monitors lit up the walls with shifting colors, plushies of his favorite characters lined the shelves, and you spotted a giant beanbag throne next to his bed, already prepped with snacks, sodas, and a pair of wireless headphones.

"You made this for me?"

He shrugged, face still crimson. "I-I mean, it’s not like I didn’t maybe spend a whole day setting up your preferred snack distribution pattern and optimal screen brightness levels for sleepover mood… but whatever… it’s n-not a big deal or anything."

It was a big deal. For Idia, this was like handing you the keys to his soul.

You ended up curled together on the beanbag in front of the biggest screen — playing co-op games, fingers occasionally brushing on the controllers, until the competition dissolved into you leaning against him, both of you giggling at the absurd in-game dialogue.

Eventually, the controllers dropped. The games turned into streaming anime. The anime turned into whispered headcanons. And then... silence.

Not awkward. Just safe.

Idia, surprisingly, was the first to shift closer. His arms wrapped around you slowly, like he was still trying to believe it was okay to touch you like this. You leaned in — close enough to feel the way his breath hitched — and rested your head against his shoulder.

"I don’t get it," he whispered.

"Get what?"

"Why someone like you would choose a low-stats, cursed flame introvert NPC like me."

You looked up and pressed a gentle kiss just beneath his jaw.

“Because you’re my favorite character.”

He was so quiet after that, you thought he might’ve frozen — but then he exhaled sharply, tucked his chin against your head, and murmured, “...Critical hit.”

Later, when you crawled into his bed (covered in a ridiculous galaxy-print comforter), Idia pulled the blanket over your shoulders like he’d seen in one of his many slice-of-life anime. You were both lying face-to-face, the soft glow of his floating tech illuminating the pink in his cheeks.

“I know I’m not good at real-life stuff,” he whispered, eyes avoiding yours. “But if you’re here… I’ll try. I’ll keep leveling up.”

You kissed him softly, and he practically melted.

And when you fell asleep, your hand resting in his, his voice barely made it to your ears:

“…I’ve never felt like a main character before. But with you? I think maybe I’m the protagonist after all.”

That night, for the first time in forever, Idia didn’t stay up obsessively doom-scrolling or replaying every awkward moment in his mind. Instead, he held you close, your warmth anchoring him, and let himself drift into a dream where he was loved — glitchy, nerdy, brilliant him — exactly as he was.

Malleus Draconia

When you arrived at Diasomnia that evening, the halls felt quieter than usual. There was a stillness in the air — not heavy, but ancient, as if the castle itself knew this night was special.

Malleus met you at the tower stairs, eyes glowing faintly green in the dim torchlight. "You came," he said softly, as though he hadn’t fully believed you would.

He took your hand — large, cool, and gentle — and guided you up to his room. It was more like a sanctuary than a bedroom: high arched windows let in streams of moonlight, and ethereal green flames floated in glass orbs along the walls. A dragon-carved fireplace crackled gently, filling the space with warmth and flickering shadows.

"I’ve never hosted a sleepover before," he said, watching you set down your bag.

You turned to him, smiling. “Then we’ll make this one perfect.”

He offered you one of his robes — dark velvet, embroidered with silver thread in patterns resembling stars and wings. You swam in it, but it was warm, and it smelled like lightning and old magic. Malleus’s room didn’t have a regular bed — instead, a nest of pillows and woven blankets near the hearth, surrounded by books and ancient tapestries. He invited you into it like a dragon offering a place beside his hoard.

“I hope it’s comfortable enough,” he murmured, lying down beside you.

You curled against him, the size of his body making you feel effortlessly safe. His hand rested lightly on your hip, his claws careful, reverent.

“Malleus?” you asked softly. “Do you ever get lonely up here?”

He was quiet for a long time, then whispered, “Not anymore.”

The two of you spent the night sharing stories — of your childhood, your dreams, your fears. Malleus listened with unwavering attention, his gaze fixed on your face like he was memorizing every blink. When it was his turn to speak, his voice dropped to a lullaby cadence — telling you about ancient festivals, about storms he’d danced through, about how long he’d waited to feel this warmth with someone.

At one point, you yawned mid-sentence, and Malleus chuckled.

“Rest, my treasure,” he said, cradling you close. “I will keep the night watch.”

You drifted to sleep in the arms of a fae prince, surrounded by timeless magic, moonlight, and the kind of love that felt eternal — as steady as the stars above and as deep as the ancient roots beneath the castle.

And somewhere in the silence, Malleus pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and whispered:

"You are my dream in a world where I thought I would never have one."

[pitlanepeach]

From Eden | The Epilogue (8/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Summary — Francesca Gold is an introvert with a quiet life and a Youtube channel where she talks about books, drinks too much tea, and rarely ever shows her face. She prefers it that way - tucked into her London flat with her cat, Henry, and safely hidden behind a screen.

Oscar Piastri is a Formula 1 driver. Fast-paced, high-stakes, always on the move. He hasn't read a book in years, but he's watched every single one of Francesca's videos. Just for the sound of her voice.

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings — Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety. Seasonal Depressive Episodes. So much fluff it’ll rot your teeth. Time skips.

Notes — Not the longest, but I think that it's perfect. You have all shown this fic so much love. Thank you, I hope this ending does their story justice — Peach x

liked by oscarpiastri, hattiepiastri, landonorris, and 102,374 others

bookishgoldie surrounded by so much love

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user1 henry is like HELL NAH MOM TAKE ME BACK INSIDE RIGHT NOW😭

bookishgoldie he actually loves being outdoors!!!! until he sees people and/or other cats

user03 the texts😌😌😌 ur faves could never

user63 CAN WE HAVE A SEQUEL UPDATE PLS??????

bookishgoldie 😉

user17 are you going to be at the GP this weekend?

user91 she hasn’t been to any of the last 3 😕

bookishgoldie just because you haven’t seen me, doesn’t mean im not there!!🫶 been having a hard time lately so ive just been hiding from the cameras

user91 feel better soon francesca❤️

user60 bf oscar crumbs…. IKTR

user76 you might actually be the prettiest girl in the world. like your HAIR????????

oscarpiastri glad those are the texts you decided to post and not the ones a little further down 👍🏻

bookishgoldie OSCAR

oscarpiastri 🧡

user75 god this feels like watching my parents flirt🤧

user33 new vlog soon? ♥ by bookishgoldie

—

Things always got a little harder to deal with in the winter.

Cold weather, dark, shorter days. 

Oscar, gone more than he was home, spending more time in England than Monaco, preparing for the new season at the MTC. 

Katie arrived after Christmas with sacks full of presents and the intention to stay for as long as she was welcome.

And Francesca let herself struggle.

She didn’t mask it or push it down. She let herself sleep in. Let herself cry into the collar of Oscar’s hoodies. Let Katie wrap her up in blankets and feed her shitty microwavable pasta. She let herself feel the heavy days without guilt.

And then spring came, slow and golden. The sea looked blue again. Henry sat at the window for hours, purring in the warmth.

Francesca curled up in the corner of the sofa, a half-drunk cup of tea resting on the armrest. Oscar stretched out beside her, hair damp from the shower, an arm slung loosely over her shins.

Their bodies were tired, but their faces were soft — content, a little dazed, totally at peace.

There was music playing faintly from a speaker in the kitchen. The balcony doors were open. The scent of jasmine drifted in with the breeze.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

Then, without opening her eyes, Francesca whispered, “I think I’m ready.”

Oscar turned his head, brushing his nose against her knee. “You sure?”

She opened her eyes. Looked at him. Smiled. “Yeah.” 

— 

The wedding wasn’t extravagant.

They’d talked about a big one — at home in Monaco, or away in Lake Como, with flower arches and string quartets and draped silk. 

But in the end, the choice was easy.

A coastal garden just outside Melbourne. A warm autumn breeze. Less than fifty guests. A white dress with long sleeves and lace along the hem. A charcoal grey suit with a crooked boutonnière that Oscar kept fiddling with until Logan smacked his hand away.

Katie cried the entire time. Her mascara was streaked halfway down her cheeks by the time Francesca walked down the aisle — Max, seated beside her in an unusually well-fitted suit, held her hand tightly, leaning in to whisper something that made her laugh through her tears. Henry had a bow tie and a seat in the front row, though he spent most of the ceremony asleep in Zac’s lap.

Oscar didn’t stop smiling. Not once.

He cried when she reached him. Not dramatically — just soft, silent tears. 

Their vows were simple. Sweet. (“I’ll never stop choosing you,” he’d said, thumb brushing her knuckles as his voice caught. “In every version of life, in every timeline — it’s always you.”)

After the ceremony, they danced barefoot under fairy lights. They kissed for too long during dinner. Katie gave a toast that quickly turned into a roast, full of sharp jabs and softer edges, the kind only a best friend could get away with. Mark cried during the father-daughter dance — harder than he had the day Francesca first asked him to step in for her absent father. Lando caught the bouquet.

And when the music quieted and the guests thinned, they stayed. Just the two of them. Sitting on the edge of the dance floor, champagne in one hand and her heels dangling from the other.

“You happy, baby?” Oscar asked, nose against her temple.

Francesca leaned into him, her lips brushing the line of his jaw. “Yeah.”

They didn’t rush off on any kind of honeymoon. There was a race two weeks later. It didn’t matter. Wherever they went, Monaco, London, Melbourne, a grid in the middle of nowhere; they had each other.

And that was more than enough.

— 

There were tiny shoes by the front door — worn at the toes, one toppled over like it had been abandoned mid-adventure. A toddler-sized karting suit swayed gently on the balcony, its colours faded slightly from the sun, dancing on the breeze like a memory.

Inside, the apartment held a hush, the kind that settled in the late afternoon when the world was between moments. Oscar was gone — somewhere fast and loud and far away — and her baby girl slept soundly, curled in a bassinet adjacent to Francesca’s desk. 

Francesca sat in front of her computer, bathed in soft light, her fingers moving slowly across the keys. A new manuscript sat on the screen. This one was different. Quieter. Gentler. Woven with the kind of love that had grown slowly over time, deep-rooted and certain. Her tea, long forgotten, sat cold beside her.

Sunlight spilled across the floor, golden and drowsy, stretching toward an old pet bed in the corner. Henry lay there, curled up in a patch of warmth, his ginger fur dulled with age. Curled beside him, a kitten — all fluff and white — snored in perfect harmony, their bodies forming a sleepy, tangled mess.

A quiet rustle, the creak of little feet on hardwood.

Francesca paused, fingertips hovering above her keyboard.

From the living room, the low hum of the television drifted in. The race broadcast, crowd noise swelling like waves. And then, clearer than anything else, a small, delighted voice rang out, “Daddy!”

She was smiling even before she pushed up from her desk. That voice, high and sweet and excited, cut through the stillness like some kind of magic. 

Her little boy was standing in front of the TV, one hand pressed against the screen where Oscar’s face was displayed. His curls were rumpled from sleep, cheeks still flushed, tiny fingers smudging the corner of the screen as if touching his father would bring him closer. 

Francesca leaned in the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, her heart full. 

The race commentary carried on in the background, and her little boy bounced on his toes. 

Her gaze drifted to the balcony, to where the tiny karting suit hung in the breeze; the sleeves smudged with stains, the knees scuffed from victory. It was so small that just looking at it made her chest ache. 

Her little boy had won his first race a week ago. The youngest in his category. Sharp in the corners. Smooth on the throttle. Brave.

It was in his blood.

His father, now a three-time world champion, had scooped him up in the pit lane like he was the one who’d just won a title, not the other way around.

Generational, they called it.

Her little boy caught sight of her in his peripheral and beamed. All toothy grin and sun-kissed cheeks. Without hesitation, he ran to her, arms outstretched. She bent to meet him halfway, grunting softly as she lifted him onto her hip.

He wrapped himself around her neck, squeezing her tight. 

He didn’t have to win races to be held like this. Didn’t need to be the best or the brightest or the bravest. He didn’t have to earn a single inch of her love.

It was already his. Always would be.

She kissed the side of his head, inhaling the familiar scent of sun and sugar and something impossibly sweet.

“You hungry, darling?” she whispered into his hair.

He nodded. “Toast, please. With jam.”

“Coming right up.” She gave him another squeeze before setting him down gently. “You wanna stay and watch daddy?”

He nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling as he twisted his head around to watch the TV screen, where Oscar was currently navigating through an interview.

She carried him over to the couch, his small weight settled against her side as she tucked the quilt around him, the soft fabric a cocoon of warmth and comfort. He curled into it, content and safe.

She took a few steps toward the kitchen, paused, then pulled out her phone and took a photo. 

— 

iMessage — Francesca & Oscar 

Francesca 

*insert photo* 

Oscar 

Thank you

Needed that

Love you

Francesca 

Love you <3

— 

The sun was low in the sky. Francesca sat on a pink towel, legs stretched out, toes buried in the cooling grains. Beside her, Oscar lay propped up on one elbow, his eyes half-lidded as he watched their son dart across the shore, chasing a scuttling crab with wild delight. Their daughter sat nearby, deeply engrossed in her sprawling sandcastle mansion, occasionally glancing up to make sure her parents were still there, still watching.

Oscar shifted slightly, pushing up onto both elbows now, his brows knitting as he stared out at the horizon. 

Francesca moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” she asked, her voice soft, knowing.

He shook his head a little, a half-smile pulling at his lips. “Just... thinking.”

She raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just watched the sun dip lower. Then, finally, his voice low and sure, he said, “I think it’s time.”

She frowned, confused. “Time for what? To head back? It’s still early.”

Oscar sat up properly now, brushing sand off his palms. He looked at her — really looked at her — and the air between them seemed to hold its breath. He dragged a hand through his hair, fingers lingering at the back of his neck, before resting his gaze on her again. “Time to retire.”

Francesca’s heart stumbled. “Retire?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the sea breeze. “What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath, turning his attention back to their children. Their son let out a triumphant laugh, clutching an empty bucket in one hand, while their daughter patted the top of her castle with precise, serious little chubby fingers.

“Five world titles,” Oscar said. “I’ve done it. I’ve done more than I ever dreamed of. And I’m proud of that. But I think… I don’t need the next ten. I just want this.” His voice softened. “You. Them. No more risks. No more being away. I want to be here.”

Francesca’s chest ached. She’d thought about this moment before — hoped for it, in secret. But he was still so young, only thirty-two. He could have gone on for years. He could’ve shattered more records, chased more championships.

But he didn’t want that anymore.

He wanted to come home.

She smiled, even as her eyes stung. Her lips trembled slightly as she asked, “You’re sure?”

Oscar reached for her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at her jaw with a kind of reverence that made her breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything, ‘Cesca.”

Her hand covered his, grounding herself in the moment, in him. “Okay,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “Okay.”

— 

Laughter rang from the garden just beyond; a bright, bubbling sound that tugged a soft smile from Francesca as she stood on the back porch, watching.

Katie was kneeling in the grass, a crown of daisies crooked on her head, her arms raised in mock defeat as Francesca’s daughter tackled her around the middle with giggles. Her son cheered his sister on from the sidelines, face smudged with dirt, holding a water gun like a trophy.

“You little shits,” Katie cackled, falling onto her back with theatrical drama, arms splayed wide as the children climbed over her triumphantly.

Francesca laughed. She stepped out into the sun, barefoot on warm stone. “You’ve completely lost control of them,” she called out.

“Excuse me,” Katie said, sitting up with a toddler’s arms wrapped around her neck. “I am their queen, thank you very much. This is just… a temporary coup.”

Francesca sat beside them in the grass, brushing a hand over her daughter’s hair as the little girl nestled into Katie’s lap. 

“I hope you know,” Francesca said eventually, softly, “You’re their aunt, but you’re also my sister. The first real family I ever had.”

Katie looked over at her, blinking fast. “Christ, Fran, don’t go saying stuff like that, I’m trying to maintain my badass aunt image.”

Francesca smiled, eyes shimmering. “Too late. You’re a daisy-crowned queen now. Fully compromised.”

Katie laughed, leaning over to bump their shoulders together. “Love you too, dummy.”

— 

Students bustled around them, dragging suitcases, clutching dorm keys, hugging parents goodbye. It was a flurry of new beginnings and tender goodbyes.

Francesca stood just off the main building, one hand loosely curled around her husband’s, the other pressed gently to her sternum, like she was trying to hold herself together from the inside out. Their daughter was walking away with her new roommate at her side, after their teary goodbye’s had drawn to an end.

Oscar watched her with quiet pride, his thumb brushing the back of Francesca’s hand when their daughter turned and waved — eyes bright, a little glassy, but shining with something solid and sure.

“She’ll be fine,” he said softly.

Francesca nodded, though her throat was tight. “I know.”

They lingered, neither of them ready to break the moment. It felt impossibly full — their daughter stepping into her future, their son already chasing his at breakneck speed, halfway across the world, poised to win the F2 title, just a year after securing the F3 championship.

Francesca exhaled a breath that trembled at the edges, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe all of this started in my tiny London flat.”

Oscar leaned in, pressed a kiss to her temple, and let his forehead rest against hers, warm and steady. “We built a whole life out of that flat.”

They stood together, quiet. Proud of everything they'd managed to create. Two lives made with care. A family grown with love.

“Ready to go?” Oscar asked his wife gently.

Francesca smiled, her heart full. “Yeah. Let’s go see our boy win his second championship.”

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 || 𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠-𝐖𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: angel of satisfaction || part two: here

summary_the fallout of your love story with jeong-won and how he begged long enough to drastically change your life.

warnings_ age gap (not specified but reader is in uni), implied sex, cheating, fluff, angst but happy ending , reader smokes, is implied to be American and PLOT TWIST at the end, NO PROOFREADING

notes_ need to watch goblin and the silent sea :( using the salesman tag to avoid the flop allegations

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ———୨ৎ───୨ৎ

The smell of cigars filled your home: you never thought you would deliberately find yourself smoking.

But there you were, looking at the cloudy skyline while you threw out the unhealthy smoke.

Your phone rang and you pulled it out of your pocket.

The ninth call of the day. Three times three is the charm.

“What the fuck do you want?” You neutrally ask, ignoring the beating of your heart.

“…y/n? Thank goodness you’re answering” You roll your eyes. “We need to talk, there’s a lot you-“

“Jeong-won, I don’t want to talk about anything with you” The exasperated tone in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by him, which makes him feel even more stressed out. “In fact, I don’t want you to keep calling me. I don’t want you messaging me. I don’t want to have your follow on social media. I don’t want to hear your music in the clubs. I don’t want to ever fucking see your face again”

“Please, y/n. I don’t deserve to explain myself but-“

“I told you, you only had to pay for that dinner and forget about me. I suppose you didn’t mend things with your wife…” you abruptly cut him off, watching the smoke of the cigar fly out of your place.

“It’s complicated…” he sounds tired, sad and pathetic.

“Yeah… Everything’s that way with you. I just didn’t want to see it” you spit out, hanging up, leaving him to make a mess over the deadline.

You didn’t know how, but you would try everything just to forget him. But when you get out of the apartment the first thing you notice is the public trash can.

There lies the flower bouquet that appeared at your door three days ago. It had been Jeong-won’s first attempt to say sorry.

But so far it wasn’t working.

…

Three weeks into trying to move on. The first days felt like walking throwing a dark alleyway with no return. Tears always find a way to run out of your eyes, but you couldn’t deny, that you felt better.

Your friends helped a lot. Seoun-mi was the only one who said that if Jeong-won insisted, you could let him explain himself. Ruby and Jade immediately said no.

The spring was right around the corner. The rain was slowly coming to an end. The coats were being replaced with sweaters and cardigans. Even the sun cooperated, warming enough to make you go out to run.

Jeong-won crossed the street to walk towards his car. He had submitted a mini EP of music, expected to release mid-spring.

The city looked active, almost as if everyone had been trapped by the winter. He pulled out the keys to his car when he looked up.

His feet dragged him away, noticing a woman jogging down the street.

His face turned in awe after realizing it was you. Your matching grey tracksuit was hard to miss. He remembered you mentioned you were asthmatic, he wondered if you carried your inhalator.

“Y/N!” Jeong-won couldn’t care less if everyone stared at him as if he was insane. He started running hoping to get your attention.

His heart started beating so fast, the rush of seeing your face again, the hope of having you by his side again.

But that didn’t happen, you didn’t even listen. Music was playing so loud through your wireless headphones.

Jeong-won stopped running. He stared at your blurred vision and sighed in dismay.

His phone rang and he answered, still looking at you.

“Are you busy?” In-ji asked.

“No. I’m going home…” the man answered.

…

As the desperation started to burn you, the need to go out also grew stronger.

Ruby and Seoun-mi had seminars, and Jade had a meeting with her major advisor.

The outcome? You dancing all alone in a club.

You couldn’t go to the same one where you used to go. That’s where you met Jeong-won, it was too painful.

But as the alcohol sinks in, you start to feel tipsy, alerting you to stop drinking.

For a second you thought it was already too late but Han Jeong-won was actually there.

He gently pushed people to come to you.

There isn’t even time to feel angry, nervous, or panicked.

“What are you doing here?” You ask loudly.

“I came with a friend…” he admits, looking hopeful.

When you try to sneak away, Jeong-won grabs your wrist and pushes you against his chest. Only to then kiss you.

In his arms, you felt safe.

With his kisses, you felt cherished.

The man who urgently smashed his lips with yours in the middle of the dance floor while music blasted from the speakers was the love of your life.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Couldn't miss the chance and needed to let you know he always loved you. That everything was true.

"Please, believe me..." he pleaded, holding your hands.

"Fuck you, Jeong-won"

Frivolously, you leave the taste of poison on his lips. His hand tried to grab yours again, but you slipped, leaving him.

Like you had already done before.

But it didn't make it easier, because tears started falling down the first step out of the club.

And in the middle of the cold night, you slip into your coat and start a quiet walk towards home.

You wished you knew he was mourning a life he had before you.

…

Caffè Americano…

The smell fills your nostrils and the warmth of the cup soothes the cold of your hands. Too many thoughts have run through your head over the days. And it was very rushed to say you were over Jeong-won. Walking through the same streets you once walked while feeling in love was devastating, as dramatic as it sounded.

But it’s a good day. You can feel like you are reaching peacefulness and it’s enough.

It’s been a month and a half since you last saw him. The world is not fresh, but it’s still open.

You walk out of the coffee shop, your boots sound with every step you take and the cool air makes the very few cherry blossoms in the trees fall.

Your eyes scan the street; everyone is just there living.

When would you start feeling like yourself again?

Apparently not at that moment. After coming down the little steps of the coffee shop, you look up and meet two people talking, just inches away.

Why was life so cruel? Why do you have to meet your ex-boyfriend and his wife right then and there?

They feel someone staring, but they try to act so normal, like you hadn’t seen them. You start walking away. With firm steps and a well-hidden urge to run as well.

His hair looked the same, but his face looked less tired. She looked younger if that was even possible, with longer hair and more casual clothes.

Jeong-won and In-ji stare at each other awkwardly.

“Go after her” she softly tells him. Jeong-won stares back at her with unease before turning back his attention to you.

He knew you wanted to run away the moment you saw them.

“We already met once. What if we met again and she’s in the middle once again?” He can’t deny the anxiety growing as you stop waiting for the traffic lights to change.

“Jeong-won, perhaps we were really never meant to be together…” his face almost turns into a childish pout.

But maybe… In-ji was right.

She was kind, supportive and caring. She would’ve been a great wife. But their marriage started as a contract, Jeong-won never knew her completely.

He never felt the same way he did with you.

“We couldn’t even say ‘I love you’ to each other…” the woman admitted with a sad smile.

Then both turned to look at you.

“Go, explain her everything. And if we see each other again. It’s because we are meant to be friends. But that’s it…” Jeong-won almost felt his eyes turn glassy. But he nodded, gave Noh In-ju a brief kiss on the forehead, and literally started running towards you.

For a moment he thought about

You are still waiting for the green light when you hear him. You spot a cab and make him a sign to stop by you.

“Y/N !” When you look back, you see Jeong-won running, out of breath with his hand waving in an attempt to make you notice him.

You sigh, already feeling stressed out.

“This needs to stop. I can’t take it anymore!” You almost yell as soon as he ends up face-to-face with you. “I know it was just a coincidence and she’s your wife, but it’s not fair. I can’t do this anymore…”

You’re so mentally exhausted that you don’t even notice your eyes tearing up until the cool air makes you aware of the tears.

“Please, don’t cry. If you just let me explain… you and I-“

Boom. You explode…

“YOU AND I, NOTHING!”

It spills out of your mouth. The words even hurt you since you know it’s not true. People around stare but you don’t care.

“This is why I can’t go out anymore. I’m so scared that I will have to see your face again… “ his heart breaks, he can’t stand your tired and hurt tone, your burning cheeks, and your red eyes.

He wants to make it better but doesn’t know how.

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he admits with his broken voice and you find the strength to chuckle. “I will remember that when I’m gone…”

“You’re leaving?” Jeong-won finds himself panicking, already desperate to make you stay.

“If the office approves my petition, yes. I’ll leave in three weeks” his face goes pale. “And even after everything… I can’t hate you, Jeong-won”

Your cab arrives just in time, and you disappear without saying anything else. You don’t even look at him again.

And as the cab drives away, you begin to think about anything else. In hopes of forgetting about everything, starting with his face.

…

2:00 am…

You can’t sleep. It was the following night after a hangover day. Your friends almost cried, pleading you stay at least the rest of the semester. You hadn’t thought about leaving the apartment and all of the good memories built there.

You look through the open curtains at the skyline. The same crystal diving you from the city that once was your lullaby as Jeong-won hugged you and combed his fingers through your hair.

You were so sober that you even questioned if he deserved to explain himself.

What if he was in a bad marriage and he couldn’t get divorced but started seeing you? No… Then why did they look very happy talking to each other the last time?

What if he actually never meant to cheat on his wife but tremendously fell in love with you? No… He still cheated and never told you about it.

But he said he loved you.

And he looked sincere while doing so…

*beep beep*

Your phone makes you touch the ground again.

After hours of being in the dark, the light of the screen blinds you for a second.

Five new messages…

Jeong-won ♡

You never removed the heart beside his name in the contract.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I can’t sleep again.

and not because I’ve taken

the pills again. I miss you like

you have no idea.

I know I hurt you despite not

wanting to. But as I said, it’s complicated.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

My first wife and I had issues.

She always wanted to

control me. We almost had a kid,

but we lost it and that shattered my

life once again. So she urged me

to sign a fake marriage, now I see

how twisted and stupid it is.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I was so uncomfortable when this

new woman appeared at my place.

It was already a bad place

and it added up to my neglect. It was

never my intention to cheat on In-ji.

I was only being friendly

that night we met in the club. But the

more I heard you, the more I realized

how lonely I was. It was luck or a fluke

that you were in that burger shop

days after.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I swear to you, y/n, that every

word, caress, and moment I shared

with you was real. Never in my life

I’ve been more sure about

feeling like this. I wanted to tell

you about the marriage, but I

didn’t know how. I thought that

no matter how much I tried to

explain, it would sound terrible.

I was so close to falling in love

with her. But thank goodness

I didn’t, because I would have

settled for so little compared

to you. The marriage contract is

over. That day you saw us together,

it was the first time I saw her

in months. She told me to go after you.

Jeong-won ♡ ׂ╰┈➤

I don’t think it’s enough

explanation. But I hope it’s

enough for you to believe me

when I say I truly love you.

I’m so sure I want to waste as

many years as needed as long as

you forgive me. Please don’t leave,

I need you. Even when I don’t deserve

it.

✓ ✓

You don’t cry, you don’t panic, you don’t even blink. You just lock the phone and set it aside. Your eyes locked on the ceiling as you start drifting off, succumbing to sleep.

…

It could’ve been any other day. But it was raining when you decided to drop the final papers to withdraw from the study abroad program and return home. The apartment was a mess, half of it already packed up inside carton boxes and the other half resting as if nothing was happening.

The decision was not properly made, that was clear.

Your head was a disaster, a swimming mess.

Your life has been quite boring but comforting ever since you entered your teenage years. Never in your wildest dreams, you thought you would be stressing over a failed relationship where the man was married.

Three months after that embarrassing night at the restaurant, you are in a very different place and situation.

The rain has stopped, the sun peaks between grey clouds but the streets are still a wet mess.

You avoid the puddles of water that form across the sidewalk. Your cable earphones get tangled with the bunch of papers in your arms. It’s annoying until you slow down to take them off and hold the papers properly.

You bump into someone. The altercation being a little violent makes you almost fall to your knees, but the stranger holds your shoulders.

And the papers fall from your hands, drenching in the water.

“Fuck…” you whisper, hurrying to kneel, not caring that your knees get wet, you can only save the top papers. You see the hands of the stranger also trying to save them. That’s when you look up at the stranger.

Without a warning you end up smiling, Jeong-won smiles back at the instant. Both of you chuckle.

The half-drenched papers slip from your hands again, completely drowning in the puddle of water.

“Is it too late?” He asks.

“For what?”

“For begging you to stay with me…” your hands snake to grab his. He had a black turtleneck sweater and a jacket hanging over his shoulder. He looked painfully gorgeous.

You think about all those hours you spent re-reading his messages.

“I think you have begged enough” you reply.

Needless to say… you just know it was meant to happen.

Your arms lock around his neck and it’s you the one kissing him. Jeong-won mentally sighs, feeling relieved and renewed.

You can feel his arms embracing you tightly, as if scared you would slip away from him again.

Out of breath, he rests his forehead against yours, witnessing how the pain slowly washed away.

“It’s okay…” you almost whisper, he nods, briefly smiling. “Jeong-won, let's go home”

You knew he understood. Both of you knew home was wherever the two of you were together.

…

The heat was slowly building up. The windows started to remain open all day and night. Jeong-won was slightly stressed out, he had an upcoming trip and was in a mall, outside of a candle store.

His phone was almost burning when he realized the day was indeed hot.

“Jeong-won?” He turns only to encounter In-ji, smiling brightly at him.

“In-ji…”

His ex-wife appeared upon him, looking gorgeous. She looked happy, with her long hair now dyed chocolate brown.

“How are you?” He asked giving her a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you in… a long time”

It had been a year, to be exact.

“What happened with y/n?” She asks straight to the point and Jeong-won chuckles. “Why are you laughing?”

“It was bad… Remember?” In-ji nods, then he points at a woman squatting while looking at candles inside the store.

It was you, wearing a sundress that hunched over the floor. A purse hanging from your shoulder with many keychains. And when you stood up and turned to the side, In-ji noticed your left arm was also busy, holding a newborn baby.

“HAN JEONG-WON, YOU HAD A BABY?” the man starts laughing while nodding. “Oh my goddess! Congratulations!”

“I can’t believe it myself” he admits after accepting the hug In-ji gave him.

It felt nice to see her. She was right, they functioned better as friends.

“It’s a girl, right? What’s her name?” His eyes brightened at the subject.

Jeong-won had a baby with you…

“She has two names. June Iseul” the name of the baby rolled over his tongue and he found himself smiling again.

June Iseul was born in the peak of the winter, weighing and measuring less than expected, with matted raven hair and grey irises that were slowly becoming like yours but shaped just like her father’s.

“That’s adorable!” In-hi admitted, feeling awe at the sight of the baby in your arms, wearing a rainbow onesie.

“And I guess you married her?” Jeong-won huffed.

You never denied how June Iseul had been an accident. She came to slow down your academic career, she also made you gain weight and lose some hair but her arrival amidst winter gave you half a year to recover. You felt amazing and June Iseul was growing healthy.

Jeong-won was happier than ever. He was just a little worried about the reason why they were in the mall. Your parents were slightly mad and very confused as to why you left home being single and a full-time student and you were going to visit them being a part-time student, with a boyfriend and a baby.

Jeong-won was nervous, excited, and eager to marry you.

“Well… happens that y/n doesn’t fully believe in traditional marriage. I’ve asked her on multiple occasions but she keeps saying that we shouldn’t push it yet” Jeong-won admits rolling his eyes, she chuckles, turning her head to see you invested in the newborn section. “She’s very smart”

“She is…” he agrees, joining the chuckles and smiling like an idiot at the sight of you with his daughter.

“Well I didn’t have a baby, but I got married” In-ji revealed, making Jeong-won almost gag.

“What? When?”

“Two weeks ago. I met him in Thailand and… I don’t know. I’m just… very happy” Both smiled, feeling in peace knowing everyone had moved on. “I’m happy for you, Jeong-won. I can tell you are living a dream”

“I’m also happy for you…” both smiled at each other.

…

An hour later, you are done shopping and the most important thing is in your hands; a stroller for June Iseul.

Jeong-won pushed the stroller as both of you walked towards a pasta restaurant.

“It sucks that you got me pregnant before my twenties ended. I should be in the club!” you object, exaggerating. You can hear Jeong-won huffing in disbelief.

“You literally go out to the club every week!”

He was right. Your life pretty much remained the same.

“And that’s one more reason I love you so much”

Even with the arrival of June Iseul, Jeong-won had no problems with staying with the baby while you attended classes or decided to hang out with your friends. He used to have a lot of free time, but now… he found the perfect routine.

“What are we ordering?” He asks, grabbing a menu as you both wait your turn to order and pay.

“You pick the pasta and I want a pizza with truffle oil. What do you say?” You negotiate with a smile.

He gets so lost in your beautiful face that he ends up smiling back like an idiot.

“What?” You ask again, chuckling at his silly face. “Nothing, I just love you so much”

You blush. And before you can say anything.

You hear some coos.

“I’ll order, you pick a table and feed Junjun” Jeong-won reassures you, knowing very well his daughter was demanding and using the silly nickname he had given her.

You take a seat at a secluded table and turn the stroller so you can uncover it.

June Iseul was awake.

“Hello, little blossom” she smiled and it melted your heart. “I know you’re hungry…”

She was very small and soft. She had that baby smell but as her mother, you thought your baby smelled perfectly compared to the others.

She locked her eyes with yours as you breastfed her, not caring about the attention because your back was facing the world, and the table was secluded enough to cover you.

June Iseul’s pale skin resembled her father’s, making her look a little like a porcelain doll. Like the one your friend Jade gifted her from Japan months ago.

The doll was very sophisticated and rested along with some baby books and toys.

“Your father isn’t very good at conversations with strangers, right?” You ask your baby as you pull her out of the stroller and into your chest. Your boyfriend seemed to awkwardly be exchanging words with the woman taking the order. It made you chuckle.

After a long night talking and him telling you every single detail of his life, everything changed.

Just when he got a little house in a modest neighborhood and asked you to move in, you accidentally got pregnant.

What seemed like a challenge turned out to be easier than expected. Jeong-won had been the perfect partner all along.

Ignoring the judgment from your peers in classes after you waddled around campus with a baby bump, everything was perfect.

Also ignoring all the insults you threw to Jeong-won while he held your hand in the delivery room, everything was perfect.

So seeing him come with the receipt of the order and taking June Iseul from your arms to burp her made you realize how lucky you were.

How fucked up things were until they weren’t.

You have a boyfriend begging you to marry him and a perfect baby that looks like him. Both are in wait to visit your homeland and parents for the first time.

The flash of your phone pulls Jeong-won out of his trance with June Iseul.

“Are you taking us a picture?” he asks.

“Yes, you both look so adorable” you admit looking at the screen. June Iseul perfectly locked eyes with his father and you captured it in a picture.

You would print it, use it as your lock screen, and send it to your friends.

Ruby immediately replies in the group chat, then Jade, and lastly Seoun-mi.

Rubz <3 ׂ╰┈➤

DILF + adorable baby spotted!!!!

Jadore ׂ╰┈➤

Is that the onesie I bought her?

June Iseul my baby 🩷🩷🩷

misu :) ׂ╰┈➤

Tell Jeong-won he’s not

holding her neck properly:)

misu:) ׂ╰┈➤

I love her <3

you ׂ╰┈➤

Everyone gets In-N-Out and

animal fries after we come

back to Korea (cold ofc)

you ׂ╰┈➤

For being such a good

trio of aunts 💋

You lock your phone with a smile on your face as you stand up.

“Where are you going?” Jeong-won asks.

“To wash my hands, silly” You lean forward to kiss him briefly and you can feel him smiling amidst the kiss.

It’s inappropriate but since the table is secluded, you feel playful enough to add tongue and have a little touch with his.

And then you remember your daughter is in the middle of you two and had just burped.

“She spilled some milk…” Jeong-won hurriedly says, breaking the kiss.

You chuckle and kiss your daughter’s matted hair.

“Then clean her, Jeong-won,” you say before leaving to finally wash your hands. As your steps grow further, you can hear your boyfriend talking in Korean with June Iseul.

“Your mother is a little spitfire. That’s why I want to marry her…”

There’s an embarrassing smile on your face when you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

___________________________

Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @czarinera @dovediva @dreamersparacosm @girlythings111 @love2fangirl @migueloharassoulmate @fangirl4lifetime @wonallofme @otakusimp1 @muchwita @preppyfella @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[blkgirlsreadfanfic2]

for fanfic writers and readers

as a black girl who loves a lot of different movies and shows, fanfic allows me to read stories that put me in the middle of my favorite things. however, fanfic often (unintentionally) excludes girls who look like me.

i am so sick and tired of reading a fanfiction and having to rewrite it in my brain because a character description immediately implies that the reader is white. if you don't know what i mean, here are some examples.

"your skin turned pink" or "you blushed": black girls and women with darker skin tones CANNOT blush. our skin does not just turn pink

"pulled your hair into a messy bun": my 4a hair cannot be pulled into a messy bun at random. i may be able to do a ponytail if i have braids in, and i might be able to tie it up if I have an old twist-out, but a "messy bun" is often not possible.

"he ran his hands through your hair": yeah...unless my hair is in a silk press (and an OLD silk press), that's not happening

there are a plethora of other examples that would make this post insanely long, so let me get to the point. there are very easy ways to make fanfic a bit more inclusive; all you have to do is tweak a few character descriptions. OR, put in your pairing or warnings that the reader is implied to be white.

and finally: please, please stop tagging your DARK fanfictions "xblack!reader." i am tired of searching for fluff under the black reader tag and finding non-con, dark themes, etc., ESPECIALLY when the fic ends up being for a white reader💀.

the goal of my page is to create a safe space for black girls who love reading fanfiction. i am only one person, so if you'd like to help, here are some ways to do that!

send me fics (preferably marvel and stranger things to start) that are with a black reader

comment some other things in fanfics that imply that the reader is white or that make the fic a little less accessible

REBLOG FICS BY BLACK WRITERS

[hadesrise]

## can’t help falling in love !!

summary──── no matter what tragedy strikes, you and jason can’t help falling in love with each other. based on “can’t help falling in love” by elvis presley.

pairings──── jason peter todd x addams!male reader

warnings──── fluff, angst, very suggestive in the beginning, foul language, death and resurrection, mentions of violence, brainwash, hurt/comfort, destined soulmates, possessiveness if you squint, blood

author’s note──── okay, i take back what i said. i probably won’t stop writing addams!reader anytime soon. by the way, i don’t have specific jason in mind so any universe can be imagined for all my jason fics.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

The chilly air makes goosebumps appear on Jason’s skin as he hugs himself to shield away from the cold. Dark shine of the moon bringing peace to the silence completely surrounding him, Jason admires the statues littered across the graveyard behind the Addams manor in honour of your fallen ancestors. Despite darkness lurking behind every shadow and spirits wandering around tirelessly, this place held utter peace and comfort, warming Jason’s heart by embracing it tightly in their arms.

Each ancestors had extraordinary headstone that fits them best with their statue standing tall and proud, it truly shows how Addams honour their family members the right way. None of their headstones were simple or boring, each having unique traits that Jason was certain they used to have when they were alive. Each Addams have unique traits that differed from one another, but all of them were undeniably extraordinary. They aren’t like any other, much like how his lover’s not like any other.

Jason feels a coat being wrapped around him before two arms sneaks around his waist, shoulder weighing slightly from where you rest your chin on it. He fights back a smile.

“You could’ve called for me, beau. My siblings wouldn’t have minded one less duelling partner.” You softly say, pressing a kiss on his shoulder.

Jason instinctually leans back, snuggling to your neck. “Yeah, but you should spend more time with ‘em. Always with me, they’re gonna start thinking you’re forgetting your own siblings.”

“I assure you, they would not.” You start slowly swaying your bodies together to a non-existent music as Jason follows through with you. “They’re going to start thinking you’re forgetting them. Wednesday and Pugsley prefer you more than me, sweetheart, especially Wednesday.”

“Oh, really?” Jason smirks.

“Yes, really.” You nod with a sigh, though he could tell you weren’t annoyed at all. “She pushed me down the stairs last night after we’ve gotten back from our date.”

Jason throws his head back with a laugh, “Sorry, babe. She might or might not have invited me to throw an axe at Pugsley and I turned it down.”

“No wonder she was beyond irritated with me,” Amusement fills your tone as the corner of your lips twitch up to form a subtle smile. Jason looks at you over his shoulder and you immediately lean in for a lingering kiss, butterflies erupting in his stomach as his heart skip a beat. You then kiss his cheek and forehead before resting your chin back on his shoulder with eyes closed.

Jason sighs in content, admiring your captivating features that somehow reminds him of death. But your presence wasn’t as cold as death, it’s warm and engulfing despite your touch rivaling that coldness of an ice. He leans closer for a moment, only to lift your arms that were around him so he could face you while still being embraced by you, burying his face on the crook of your neck.

“I really love you.” He sighs, arms secure around your back.

“I would do everything for you,” Your reply was instant, resting your head against his. He felt your arms squeeze him as if to emphasise, and he chuckled.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” The silly question slips from his lips, half-joking and half-serious, pulling his head back to look into your nearly lifeless eyes. He’s reminded of how it’s only alive because of him.

Your eyebrows raised slightly in mere question and amusement, but you take his hand and press a tender kiss on his palm.

“I adore you in every universe. I love you just as much as Icarus has loved the sun — even more than he’s loved the sun. I would shatter the ground and raise hell just to find you wherever you go. I would paint the sky with shooting stars to fulfill your wish. I would tear the world apart and watch the universe collapse if you are ever taken from me, for a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving. I would worship every ground you stand and walk on to an extent which I wish not to touch the ground you haven’t touched yet, for it hasn’t been blessed with your divine greatness. I would offer you my eyes if your vision fails, my voice if yours can no longer function, my heart if yours cease to beat, my hands if you can no longer hold the world in yours, my legs if yours fail to take you to places you’ve dreamed of. Only death shall keep me away from you, and even so, it would merely be enough to prevent me from either clawing the dirt apart and rising alive to hold you in my arms, or dragging you down with me to rest for all eternity together.”

By the end of your speech, Jason was already crying ocean of tears as his eyes twinkles in overwhelming happiness, extremely touched.

Both of you always make long and romantic declaration of your love for each other in most random times, and while his speech makes you smile from ear to ear and giddy like a high schooler, yours often never failed to reduce him into nothing but a sobbing and crying mess. He hates it, but could never bring himself to hate you for making him cry.

You smile gently at him and press very soft kisses on both of his eyelids before continuing, “Therefore, the answer is yes, my love. I would still love you if you were a worm.”

Jason chokes out a chuckle, sniffing. “Fuck you for always catching me off guard and making me cry.”

Your hands cup his red face as you coo, “Do not be ashamed for shedding your tears, Jason. Quite frankly, I find them very captivating.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “You like seeing me cry?”

“Ah, yes...” A flirtatious smirk appears on your lips, one arm pulling him close and the other hand sneaking up to gently clasp your fingers around his throat. “Indeed, I do. Especially in bed.”

Jason resists his urge to moan when you squeezed slightly, tilting his head back a little to give you more access. “Why in bed when you can make me cry right here and now?” He whispered, rather lusciously as you stare into his lustful eyes.

You lick your lips before smashing your lips on his hungrily and Jason quickly reciprocates, no longer feeling the chilliness of the graveyard air.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you?

Jason loves you more than words can express. He loves you oh so dearly that he would turn back to the God that his heart stopped believing after he came back to life just so he could recite prayers for an eternity with you. Jason never thought it was possible to love someone so much so that he’d be willing to both give up everything for you and give you everything you want.

But sometimes, love makes him afraid.

Afraid of losing you. Afraid of seeing you hurt. Afraid of knowing anyone and anything can take you away any moment. He hadn’t thought about what you feel everytime you see him injured, but when you walked into the living room all bloody, bruised and slashed, his heart stopped and the mug he was holding just slipped from his hand to shatter on the floor.

You laid down on the large expensive sofa with a slight wince as Jason ran off to find some medical kits available in the Addams manor, being helped by Thing to locate its whereabout, before running back in with the necessities. He almost got a heart attack when he saw you had your eyes closed, seemingly not breathing, looking paler than usual. Dropping the medical kits on the carpeted floor below the sofa, he quickly checks on your pulse and sighs in relief when he feels it, just then remembering that an Addams is very unlikely to show any physical signs of breathing unless letting out a sigh.

You open your eyes and admire his face twisted in worry and fear, moving up a hand to pat his head twice. “It’s not necessary to be overly concerned, my dear. Nothing to fear of, these are mere injuries that can easily be treated.” You wave it off with the same hand, somehow very calm and nonchalant despite how intense your injuries looked.

Sadness now replacing the look on his face, Jason wordlessly shakes his head and begins to treat the bruises and cuts on your face with careful and soothing hands. You stop him gently to remove your vigilante suit before letting him continue, comforting silence filling the almost grim atmosphere. Jason doesn’t realise you’re watching every bit of his expression, seeing the way his perfect eyebrows furrow and his lips frown slightly every time he moves from one injury to another. It feels like the injury’s getting worse the more he moved to the next, and it made his heart heavy.

Your gaze softens, knowing he was having second thoughts about speaking the things that bothered him.

It seems Jason has quickly gathered the strength to speak because before you can throw encouraging words, his quiet voice interrupts the comfortable silence. “I know you’re not afraid of dying or anything with your culture and all, but it makes me worry a lot.” You nod to let him know you’re listening. “I sound like a real hypocrite ‘cause I go out on mission then come back here looking like a fucking zombie more than I want to admit, so I don’t have the right to say anything like this, but you almost gave me a heart attack.”

The corner of your mouth twitched, silently encouraging him to speak his thoughts more as he cleans your wounds. You don’t miss the way Jason’s hand trembled.

“You’re not...” He trailed off, hesitant to continue as he bit his lip as if to contemplate whether or not to say it out loud. He followed through it, anyway. “You’re not gonna leave me, right?” Jason tries, looking up and meeting your eyes. His emerald irises were wavering in worry and hint of fear.

Your hand gently caress his face, Jason leaning on it immediately. “As I’ve said before, mon amour... Death is merely enough to prevent me from crawling back to you.” Ignoring your freshly bandaged wounds, you pulled Jason on your lap and tugged at the back of his neck to kiss his lips passionately and comfortingly. “Leaving you only means leaving my heart and soul behind, darling. We wouldn’t want me to feel incomplete, would we?”

Jason sighs in content against your lips, before carefully shifting on the big sofa so he could squish beside you and pull you to his chest, initiatively big-spooning you.

“m’just really scared to lose you,” He whispered, burying his face on your hair and hugging you close, but not tight enough to hurt. It’s not like you’re capable of feeling pain, but you appreciated his kindness nonetheless.

You press a tender kiss on his chest, looking up at him and frowning softly. “I sincerely apologize for frightening you, my love. I’ll make an oath to be careful next time.”

Jason nods, basking in your warmth, your scent, your presence.

Gods, he loves you too much to let you go. He could never, would never. You belong to him just as much as he belongs to you and even death has no right to take that away. You were his, and only his — in life and in death.

You feel Jason’s arms tighten around you, and resisted the smile spreading across your face. Death can never intimidate you as your culture revolves around it, but the thought of losing Jason was always triggering for you. It made you dive into insanity and quickly get rid of the problem at hand, as if you’ll suffocate if you’re not quick enough to eliminate the threat. Handling Joker physically, handling Bruce mentally, handling those irrelevant crime lords who nearly hurt Red Hood off the streets violently, all things of sort.

Fall down with me further, mon chéri.

Your mind shall be filled with me and only me, even if it’s the utter fear of losing me.

A dreamy look flashed across your eyes before disappearing fast, burying your face in his chest and embracing him tighter. If you’re both too afraid for the other to die and lose them, then maybe dying together would not sound so bad at all.

You had read once on a book that falling in love is a curse, for you’ll drown in it before you even realise and fail to resurface once you fall too deep, unable to ever get out again.

However, if that is the case, you disagreed. Because it was never a curse, it’s only ever been a blessing.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

“Where the fuck is he!?” Jason yelled in rage, red clouding his vision as he threw the mug on a wall. Panic, anger, and worry filled his chest that made his frustration grow even more.

Bruce sighed, worry also plastering his face as he attempted to grasp your location with the computer. “He’s only been gone for an hour, Jason. Be patient.”

“Anything can fucking happen in an hour!” He growled back, glaring harshly before the worry and panic began to overthrow his anger, one hand slipping through his hair and tugging at it. “I— fuck, what am I gonna do? I shouldn’t have let him go alone, I should’ve went with him—”

Dick quickly approached his little brother when his breathing started to grow uneven. “Jay, hey... Breathe, calm yourself first. He’s going to be okay, he’s an untouchable badass.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Jason shakes his head, rubbing his face. “I wouldn’t know what to do without him— I can’t live without him, Dicky. I can’t.” His voice broke as he trembled, silence filling the air with everyone frowning in sadness and worry.

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Jason felt his heart thumping loudly against his chest when he saw you fighting enemies with only sustaining little injuries, relief flooding throughout his body. It’s like the world brightened up again, ironically.

You made eye contact in the middle of the fight, smirking at him. “Can’t get rid of me easily, love.”

A light-hearted chuckle erupts from Jason as he joins you along with the Batfam in fighting the League of Assassins, you and Jason moving in sync as if dancing through the violence. Both of you moved swiftly together, fitting each other perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle, using each other occassionally as a leverage against them.

“This is like dancing in our graveyard,” Jason grinned under his Red Hood helmet, adrenaline rushing in his veins.

“Indeed, it does feel like it.” You responded with subtle enthusiasm, only noticeable by your lover. He laughs at your answer, enjoying the moment even when it was violent.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

He doesn’t know why he got distracted. He doesn’t know why he didn’t pay attention more to his surroundings. But before Jason knew it, Raj’s Al Ghul’s sword was nearly piercing into him.

Until your firm and cold hand pushed him away, everything feeling like a slow motion in Jason’s eyes as the sword pierced into your chest and through your back, directly striking the heart. Jason’s eyes widened, anguished call of your name slipping from his lips. Blood dripping from your mouth, you tightly held onto the sword before driving one of your sais on Raj’s Al Ghul’s throat, where a vital point is.

The League of Assassins member fell on the ground first, clutching his throat and choking on his own blood.

Amusement flickers in your eyes, even at the graveness of the situation. You looked back at Jason and smiled, grabbing the sword’s handle and pulling it off your chest despite Batman’s loud protests. Loud metallic clank echoes within the warehouse as you dropped the sword on the concrete, stepping forward once towards your lover, but your legs giving away made you almost tumble down.

Jason immediately catches you in his arms and lays you on his lap, tears stinging his eyes as his breath quickens, removing his helmet to throw it beside him. Heartbeat rapid and restless, heart dropped to his stomach, nausea forming in the pit due to the sight of blood flowing outwards to your vigilante suit from the hole on your chest. He could feel a panic attack nearing, but couldn’t be bothered to care when the blood kept pouring out even when he applied pressure.

“No— no, no, no, no.” He chokes up, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, trembling hands continuously putting pressure on your chest. “Stay with me, please. Stay with me. I can’t—” He sobbed. “I can’t lose you.”

Your breathing was shallow yet no fear plastered your face. There’s your usual calmness, the nonchalance that Bruce used to be so unsettled when he first met you, your almost dead eyes still sparkling in love and adoration for Jason. You don’t seem to care about your injury nor the outstretched arms of the Grim Reaper.

Your bloodied lips stretches to form a weak smile, captivated by Jason’s beauty under the moonlight. “You’re still magnificent, cherí… A sight to behold… under the moonlight…”

“Baby, now’s not the time.” Jason whined pathetically, tears flowing endlessly from his eyes. Dread, fear, devastation settling in his chest. “Please, baby. Please. I don’t know- fuck, I can’t live without you.” He cried, uncaring that you two were surrounded by his family. “I don’t… I can’t, baby. I— I can’t lose you, please.”

Adrenaline rushing through your veins and motivated by your sheer love for him, you reached up to wipe his tears and grab his other hand to intertwine it with yours. Jason’s heart drops further down the abyss when you then used it to pull out his dagger — the one you gifted him — out of his holster. “You would not lose me, by other’s hands, my sweetheart… I made an oath, to only offer you my life and soul, with no one else to have the privilege of ending me.”

“No— please, baby, no…” Jason weakly shakes his head, sobbing.

You gripped his hand that held the dagger. “You ought to, cherí… It is an honour for me to die by your hands. Please, allow me… to love you, one last time.”

Jason whimpered your name, crying heavily as he leans down to rest his head on yours. You were so cruel, wanting to die by his hands, wanting him to live forever with his hands stained in your blood— but Jason knew that’s how extent your love was for him. He could never deny you, not when it was your greatest wish.

Croaks and sobs escaping him, Jason finally drives the dagger through your chest, right where the sword pierced you. It is only then you slumped against him, hands slowly dropping to your sides with mouth slightly turned up in a smile of peace and satisfaction.

The greatest proof that you love him. Carving yourself deep into his heart, so he could never be alone even when you’re physically gone.

Jason wailed in anguish and sorrow, hugging your now lifeless body close as he brokenly recites the speech you gave him in the graveyard.

You hurt him badly, loved him too cruelly, but it was still better than losing you forever. He would’ve driven the dagger into his own beating heart if only you allowed him.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Jason lost the brightness he had in him. Emerald eyes lifeless that seemed as if you took his soul with you, still functioning yet lacking in human emotions as if he was a robotic being.

Sometimes, he breaks so suddenly. Utters your name like a curse, sobbing and weeping in his room, scar so deep in his heart he scratches at his chest in attempt to get it out to stop the ache. His emotions were too unstable that left him unqualified to continue the vigilantism, which he agreed emotionlessly when pointed out by Bruce.

Sometimes, he’s shattered too much and far too gone in grief that he sleeps on your grave. Covers himself in blanket and nuzzles on your headstone, as if it would give him the warmth you always radiated despite being as cold as death. He could only sleep that way; the sleeping pills don’t help, but being close to your body does.

He holds his dagger close to him all the time. Stained in your dried blood that he never got the nerve to wash off, afraid that his mind would someday choose to forget your existence to block out the trauma.

He wears everything you used to wear. Uses your weapons, things, accessories. His favourite is your sunglasses. Having your possessions close always made him feel like you were embracing him.

No one ever attempted to get them away from him in fear of shattering his soul furthermore. His entire being seemingly dependent on everything that reminded of you, they didn’t want to trigger something inside of him any more than the scar in his heart did.

“Love truly is the greatest twisted curse in the world, Mr. Wayne.” Morticia mutters in sorrow as she looks out the window of the Addams’ manor, watching Jason curl up against your headstone with tears silently streaming down his face.

Bruce looks down in dejection, nodding his head.

His boy was beyond repair, and no one could do anything about it because you were gone.

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Jason’s eyes were wide in shock and horror. Emotions swirled within his chest; anger, disgust, sadness, grief, disbelief, and joy battling one another that overwhelmed him all at once. His family stood with him in front of the monitor, their expressions just as horrified as him, the familiar situation causing dread to settle in the pit of Bruce’s stomach.

The monitor showed you, alive and well with the exception of your eyes seemingly more dead and lifeless than before. Everything was the same from your emotionless face to your vigilante suit that you died in, but Jason could see right through you. This wasn’t you. This you wasn’t his.

Not when you were standing in the same room as the Joker who you’d immediately kill if you were put together.

Jason was even more certain you weren’t his when he sees you up close, your personality different from that sophisticated, nonchalant yet wonderful one you had before. You’re just… blank. A dead person living without humanity and following orders. You don’t follow orders, you hated being controlled.

The familiarity makes his chest clench and hurt. He’s been through this exact thing, he never thought you would experience it too.

“I don’t want to fight you, baby.” Jason whispered, voice cracking. His helmet hiding the heartbroken look on his face that you were standing in front of him with your sais pointed dangerously in his direction.

You scowled. He’s somehow familiar, your chest erupting in unknown emotions that Talia never taught you about. The urge to hold him close was tugging at the strings of your heart, but you stay glued to your spot. “I do not know you, fool.” You emotionlessly remark.

Hurt flashed across his face. There’s nothing he wanted more than to be held by you and hold you close, but how could he when you don’t recognise him? Did they brainwash you? Your memories lack, but they could come back, right?

“Red Hood,” Batman warningly calls his name when you lowered your stance.

Jason still didn’t pull out his guns.

“Baby, it’s me.” He whispered weakly. “Please, you said you’ll hold me again. You’ll crawl out of dirt to hold me or pull me under with you, remember?” Jason tried again, tears shimmering his eyes. His throat burned.

Your eyes narrowed, brows furrowing. You feel like you’ve told him that, but couldn’t remember. Something was banging on your head from the depths of your mind that made it throb. Gripping your sais, you desperately ignored the pain to focus on your task.

“Ignore it,” Talia’s voice entered your ears. “Kill him.”

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

“Fuck!” Jason yelps when you managed to slash him on his leg, dodging your next attack quickly. “Wait— please, listen to me!”

“Red Hood, watch out!” Red Robin shouts just as Jason narrowly avoids your sai flying towards his head.

He couldn’t find any other way to get you to listen. The way you attempted to tune him out makes him believe you were feeling something, but there’s nothing he could do when you keep coming at his throat. Desperation runs through his veins, heart still bleeding out for you even as you try to kill him. The coldness in your eyes was foreign that carved another scar in his heart, but he can’t hate you no matter what.

Jason’s heart jackhammered against his ribcage when you finally caught him by the throat and slammed him harshly on the floor, your murderous look that he always loved plastered over your face. He stops struggling after realising he could never hurt you again, and slowly hovers his hand over your wrist. Your grip on his throat was tight, but Jason couldn’t be bothered to panic.

He finally had you again at last. Why should he panic when the source of his life was so near to him?

“Have you gotten exhausted of fighting back?” You calmly tilted your head, curiosity in your eyes. Jason doesn’t miss the split seconds of conflicted look.

“I can’t,” He replies quietly. “I love you, baby. Never stopped.” His other hand raised to remove his helmet, ignoring Bruce’s protest, and your grip on his throat faltered as soon as you make eye contact with the emerald eyes that you adore too much.

“I don’t want to fight you. So kill me,” Jason mumbled with a soft voice. “Allow me to love you one last time and stab my heart with your sai. For a life without you is a life full of unquenchable thirst and eternal hunger unworthy of surviving.” He recited your own quote back to you with a tearful smile.

Closing his eyes, peace overtakes Jason for the first time in a long while since losing you as he waits for the abrupt pain of being pierced through the heart. However, all that came was softness attaching itself to his lips.

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

Jason snaps his eyes wide open in shock at your lips pressing against his, the death grip on his throat loosening just to hover affectionately over it. His body naturally reacts, moving on its own to reciprocate your kiss and relish in it, arms flying up to wrap around your neck.

You pulled away when he yearns for oxygen, a sob nearly escaping him again when he sees the love and warmth in your eyes. You smile gently at him, brightness returning to your previously dead eyes. “I’m deeply sorry, my love. I’m back.”

Jason tearfully chuckled and crushed you in a hug, heart rapidly beating against his chest. Relief wasn’t enough of a word to describe the happiness he felt. The feeling of being embraced tightly by you causing tears to stream down his face for the nth time, his longing and yearning finally being fulfilled. He missed this, he missed you, he missed his only home.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

Neither you nor Jason had left the bedroom since returning, having locked yourselves up in his room that you shared to obtain privacy for yourselves. None of the Waynes were bothered too much as they understood how much Jason yearned for your presence, the only comfort he’s ever had in his life.

Jason’s been holding onto you for dear life with the fear of you vanishing out of nowhere, his face buried on the crook of your neck and hand resting on your chest directly above your heart to feel it beating through his palm. Your arms securely wrapped around him in reassurance makes him feel more safe and at peace than he ever did. He pulls away slightly to look up, seeing you already staring at him with fondness and comfort.

“Don’t leave me again, please.” He croaks like a lost child, voice cracking.

You kissed his forehead. “I’d return to you in a heartbeat, my Jason.”

Jason stares into your gentle eyes, snuggling closer to you and intwining his legs with yours to feel every part of you. “Can’t live without you, baby.” He whispered.

You smiled. Perhaps, it was time to tell him.

Even death can’t severe the emotional bond and love you have for each other, which leaves one option; together. Falling out of love was never in either of your vocabulary, anyway.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

© all rights reserved to hadesrise ──── stealing, plagiarising, or using my works for monetary gain is strictly prohibited. ask permission before reposting or translating.

[auroralwriting]

hi! here’s a little fic idea or something to maybe toy around with: spencer with a blair waldorf-esque partner (maybe just a similar upbringing?? idk) but yeah, maybe like the insecurity that comes from growing up like that. or like the softness in finally opening yourself up to love where you had to make yourself cold before. idk.

fashion!

spencer reid x fem!reader

an exposing gala finally reveals your hidden wealth to your team, and to spencer

word count: 2.4k / warnings: pure fluff, negative self thoughts, spencer is a sweetie and rossi is supportive dad, no use of y/n, bombshell/rich girl reader

The luxurious life you lived was one you kept hush-hush, private, and behind closed doors for all who wanted to peek in. You knew it was obvious that you came from some money. You went to Yale and got your masters from Harvard. Sometimes, you wore more expensive clothing, like classic Louboutin heels or Dior sweaters.

You kept all of your money and lifestyle private for the simple fact that you didn't want to be treated differently at work. Your teammates, friends, were your favorite people. They were all very humble, sometimes minus Rossi, and so incredibly kind. You didn't want them to assume that Mommy and Daddy bought you this job. That you didn't deserve your position in the FBI.

However, when Rossi invited the team to an expensive gala where you knew people would recognize you, you realized you were absolutely doomed.

"I have no clue what to wear to things like these!" Penelope cried out in faux agony. You and the rest of the girls were shopping in the mall, not a fashion mall, but a regular one, for clothes to wear to the gala. "I don't dress up fancily ever!"

JJ smiled calmingly, "Pen, you'll look gorgeous in anything you wear."

Your brain began to work overtime, fashion knowledge bustling in your brain at a million miles an hour. "Pink," You said. Your voice was always on the cool side, your demeanor stoic like Hotch. You were the fun one, though, and knew how and when to let loose. You liked to think of yourself as highly mature and collected. "A blush pink, not rose. Rose will wash you out."

Penelope blinked in surprise, "Really?"

"Absolutely." You nodded in confirmation.

"Ooh," Emily clasped her hands together, "Do me!"

It took you no less than a second to reply. "Dark red, burgundy, maroon. You suit a darker feminine look." You turned to JJ, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever considered emerald green?"

JJ paused for a moment, "No, I haven't."

"You should. It would bring out your eyes." You replied with the smallest hint of a smile.

"How do you know all this?" Penelope asked, highly intrigued. "Are you some fashion goddess?"

You felt yourself fully smile, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "I've just always been really good with color-analysis, I guess." It wasn't a lie, color analysis went into profiling, and it came with growing up rich as fu-

"What are you going to wear?" Emily curiously asked, setting her hand in her head.

"I have a few ideas." You nonchalantly replied. "I think I have some dresses at home that will work."

Leading up to the gala, you found yourself feeling anxious anytime someone brought it up, which was all the time. Yes, you knew it was excitement, but it made you nervous to rationalize whether your friends would hate your or not after this. You tried to play it cool, nodding along to the conversations, but one comment really bothered you.

"God, I cannot wait to eye all those rich girls," Derek dreamily sighed, thinking about how much flirting he was going to participate in. "I hear the aristocrat-girls know how to push your buttons."

You knew Derek didn't mean it to be insulting, he was just joking, but it caused you feel a pang in your heart.

As the others continued to talk, you felt eyes boring holes into your body. It was Spencer, probably your closest friend on the team, and the guy you were hopelessly in love with. You'd never admitted it to anyone, the fear of rejection buried deep in your bones. You didn't want to lose him as a friend above anything else.

"Hey," Spencer softly whispered, taking in the look that had settled on your face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Spence." You nodded, allowing yourself to give him a sweet smile, the one that he knew was reserved for him and him only.

Spencer gave you a suspicious look. "You know Derek didn't mean it like that," He offered, reaching out to squeeze your arm.

"I know," you nodded. "Really, Spence. I'm okay."

The loss of your usual glimmer in your eyes had vanished before Spencer's eyes. He knew you better than that. Something was definitely up.

Even if he was your best friend, he found it hard to gather a good read on you sometimes. No one had ever been to your apartment, knew where you lived, met any of your family, absolutely nothing personal. You went to everyone else's places, met their families, it made Spencer's brain wrap around itself trying to figure you out. You were so open with him, yet so closed off at the same time. It was like you were hiding some deep, dark secret that you didn't want to hurt him. Nonetheless, he trusted your judgement, never prying too hard. He was too in love with you to even consider hurting you.

The night of the gala finally approached. You sat in front of your vanity, finishing up your hair and makeup. Reluctantly, you gave Rossi your address to come get you. He had hired out a limo to take the team to the gala.

As you walked outside, the cool chill of the air was a huge contrast to the heat inside, reminding you of how brutal Virginia autumn's could be. As you opened the door, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Rossi.

"I had a feeling you didn't want anyone to know where you lived," He remarked, a knowing look on his face. "From one to another, I know when someone has expensive taste. You, my dear, struck me as an aristocrat from day one."

"Does anyone else know?" You asked softly, biting your lip.

Rossi let out a huff of air, "Of course not. But you should tell them, preferably tonight."

"What if they think differently of me?" Your voice felt small, and you noticed the way Rossi looked at you with comfort. It was obvious that this was an unusual way to see you, but deep down, you were a sensitive, caring soul who played the part of the cold, badass agent too well.

"I can assure you, they won't." Rossi squeezed your hand for a moment, allowing you to buckle yourself in.

One by one, the team began arriving. They all looked amazing, of course, but the one that stuck out to you was Spencer in his classic black and white tux. Of course, his eyes couldn’t leave you, either. Mentally, you made a note of this eye-checking out, or eye-fucking, as Derek so gracefully called it.

Penelope was the last to arrive, and she gasped when she saw you. “That’s Prada!” She pointed, her mouth agape.

“My mom gifted it to me on my twenty-first birthday,” You explained, feeling relief when the team played it off as a very generous gift.

The gala was gorgeous, white, gold, and black filling your eyes. Of course, you’d definitely seen better, but it was your first gala in a few years. It was refreshing to see. The team, on the other hand, looked amazed at it all.

“This is the most amazingly spectacular thing I’ll ever witness in my life.” Penelope gaped.

“It really is gorgeous,” JJ nodded in agreement.

Even Hotch was staring wide eyed at the hall. “Hey,” Derek asked. “Why do you not look at all surprised or even any other feeling besides neutral at this? That cold?” Derek teased, unknowing of your true feelings.

Before you could answer, you heard a gasp from behind you. Your name was emphasized. You turned around to see a woman, her early forties, and the worst fucking haircut— Maggie Lowdry.

“My dear! It’s been far too long since you’ve been to a gala. Had us all worried sick you’d vanished, or far worse.” Maggie gave you an elegant hug that you reciprocated.

“I’ve been very busy with work,” You replied with a wide smile. “Maggie, this is my team. My team also includes Agent David Rossi.”

Maggie went wide eyed, “David Rossi! What are the odds Miss Heiress and my favorite author know each other, let alone are co-workers!”

You cringed at her words, sucking in a breath. Rossi chuckled, responding for you. “Not that low, for the area. Please, let me grab you a refreshment.”

Rossi gave you a knowing look, guiding Maggie away. Closing your eyes, you slowly turned around. “Look-”

“You’re rich?” Emily asked, interrupting you.

“Yes, but-”

“For how long?” Derek interjected.

“My whole life, I guess. It’s-”

“What do your parents do?” JJ inquired.

“They both own their own finance companies. This isn’t-”

Spencer’s words cut the deepest, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Covering your mouth, you shook your head, refusing to let tears well to the surface. The look on your face surprised the team. They hadn’t expected you to be so touchy about this.

“I’m sorry, I need air.” You quickly walked away and back outside to catch your breath.

“She’s sensitive,” Hotch began to profile you meticulously. “She puts on a cold front to trick us into thinking she’s someone completely different. In reality, we know she isn’t cold from how often she jokes or laughs and smiles. We know she’s hiding something, maybe a bad past. If we looked closer, we would have realized that this is why she never let us come over, or hardly went shopping with the girls.” Hotch paused for a moment, “She’s scared we’ll treat her differently.”

Emily frowns at his words, "We would never treat her differently because of her background."

"Or because she's rich," JJ added.

Hotch shook his head, "We're all lower-to-middle class. Maybe she thought we would resent her, or potentially believe we assume her parents bought her everything."

"A common stereotype for children of aristocrats is imposter syndrome," Spencer began. "Is that what.. is.."

"Reid, maybe you should go check on her." Derek insisted. "You're her favorite, anyway."

Biting his tongue at Derek's words, Spencer silently agreed as he followed in your previous footsteps. When he exited the building, he saw you sitting on the stone steps, staring into the city.

Spencer softly spoke your name, causing you to look up at him. No matter how hard you tried, Spencer noticed the redness in your eyes. "Can I sit?" Spencer softly asked, gesturing beside you. When you didn't respond, Spencer took that as an opening. He slowly sat next to you, his eyes never once leaving you. "We aren't mad at you."

"Do you think any differently of me?" Your voice was softer than Spencer ever thought he'd heard it before. You'd been with the buero for eight months, twenty six days, and thirteen hours. Even if he knew you well enough, he knew you'd done a damn good job of keeping your own secret.

"Yes," Spencer honestly answered, causing you to look at him wide-eyed as he continued. "I think you're much more sensitive and sweet than you let on to be. Sometimes, we could see the real you if we looked hard enough." You felt your heart beat die down at his words. "I think you're scared that we won't like you anymore because, what, you're rich?"

Your brows furrowed, "Is that not it?"

"Of course not," Spencer chuckled, grabbing your soft, manicured hands. "It doesn't matter if you're the President or anything less than,"

"I thought you guys would hate me," You chuckled at yourself, taking in Spencer's words. You'd been silly this whole time.

Spencer gave you a sympathetic look, "How could we ever hate you?" His thumbs rubbed the top of your hands, just in front of your knuckles. "Plus, I think we all already thought you came from a little money, that or you had incredible debt."

You laughed at his words, causing Spencer to smile brightly. "Maybe some things gave it away."

"Maybe," Spencer warmly agreed, the smile on your face making his heart soar. "Honestly, I know I only feel much better about you,"

"Yeah?" You breathed out.

"Yeah," Spencer confirmed with a nod. "I feel like I'm really starting to understand you. I really think I'm gonna love this you." He paused, taking a deep, supporting breath in. "But, I already do, so maybe that means it'll only get stronger."

Your breath hitched in your throat as your lips slightly parted in surprise. "You- You love me?"

Spencer awkwardly smiled, "Yeah, I love you."

"I love you, too." You admitted, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "I have since, like, they day I met you."

"I fell in love with you two months and three days after I met you." Spencer replied. He took note of your confused face and decided to help clear up what he meant. "Remember that case where you nearly got set on fire to grab one of the Hutchenson kids from their house fire?"

The memory came back to you in an instant, "That's when you fell in love with me? When I was coughing and covered in ash?"

"When you risked your life to save a child, even after the fact sending her to the first ambulance that arrived despite the fact that you couldn't breathe." Spencer corrected as you shook your head.

"I cannot believe that's when you fell in love with me." You admitted with a small laugh.

Spencer gave you his dorky half-smile, "If it helps, I'm falling in love with you all over again right now." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ears, "So you get a do-over."

After a moment of the two of you just simply existing together, relishing in the presence of your love, you decided it was time to go back inside. "We need to go back inside soon. Or, I do. My presence is expected."

"Of course, I can't hog you all to myself, can I?" Spencer teased as he helped you stand up.

"You can have me all to yourself anytime there isn't a gala," Spencer's cheeks grew red at your words as you internally cheered. "Plus, now I have a boyfriend to introduce?"

Spencer nodded quickly, "Yes, you do."

"Good," You smiled, slowly turning around to walk back inside. "I hope you know how to dance too, by the way. The waltz is common at these types of galas."

"Wait, what? No, no, I can't dance- hey, wait up!"

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

delicate

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend's father was not what you imagined when you met Joel Miller at a country music festival a year before you even met his daughter in college and became best friends with her. And it should have ended once you found out, but both of you just couldn't keep your hands from each other. Not even when his daughter was sleeping on the couch in the same room.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.7k

Rating: E

Warnings: bfd!Joel, no-outbreak, age gap (twenty-ish year; I imagine reader in her mid to late twenties), fluff, smut (a handjob and some cumplay), secret relationship, lies, fucking while someone else is sleeping in the same room, more implied smut

A/N: i am still not sure what to think about this, so let me know yeah?

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

It was dark outside when your eyes blinked open, the TV still running, the only light source in the room. 

„Didn’t wanna wake you,“ you jumped when you heard his voice from your left, your head almost knocking against his as you looked up at Joel. 

You were spending the holiday weekend with The Millers.

Joel had joined you and Sarah after he got home from work as you were in the middle of a Star Wars marathon. 

Sarah had just broken up with her boyfriend and needed some quality girl time. Something you were never saying no to, much less since you moved into her home town after finishing college. 

You were a couple years older than Sarah, both of you meeting at College when she started and you were in your last year. You had clicked immediately and been inseparable ever since. 

Even once you moved away after finishing college you stayed close, Sarah being excited over you moving closer to her childhood home. 

The last person you ever wanted was to hurt your best friend. 

Which was hypocritical considering you were fucking her father. 

Not that you knew that Joel was her father when you met him on a country music festival in Austin some years back. 

No, you had only found that out when Sarah had invited you to one of her birthdays, almost two years after you met in college. You weren’t sure if you would ever get over the shock you felt when  she introduced Joel as her father. 

You had known that he was a single dad. You just never thought he had a grown up daughter that was studying at the same college that you were.

And that enough should have been reason to stop having sex with him. 

That you had continued seeing each other after the first time had been a miracle to you in the first place, but now? It was like the universe was telling you to stop this nonsense. Both of you had called it quits many many times. First there was the age gap, Joel feeling like he was holding you back from living your life, being almost twenty years older than you.

Then there was the distance. You were studying a four hour flight away and wouldn’t be able to just fly over for a quick(y).

That he was your best friends Dad should have been the biggest hint to stop seeing him. 

But both of you were weak people when it came to each other. So you kept having sex. It had been almost three years now. 

You hummed, stretching your arms as you looked over to the love seat where Sarah was sleeping like the dead, back towards you. You grinned to yourself, seeing the empty glass of wine on the table next to her. 

„She’s out,“ Joel smiled next to you and you nodded before you let your head fall against his shoulder. Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, his scent in your nose. One of his arms came behind your back, pulling you even closer. 

„Missed you lately,“ he said, kissing your head and you hummed. 

„New job has been kicking my ass,“ you sighed. 

„And here I thought you moving to Austin would mean we could spend more time together,“ he said and you smiled. 

When the job offer came and you read that you would have to relocate to Austin you were happy and sad at the same time. Happy because it meant being able to spend more time with Joel, and sad that you wouldn’t see Sarah every day anymore. 

She still had at least two years to go, before she would start her residency to work towards her PhD. Both of which she planned to to in Austin.

„You and me both babe,“ you said and looked up at him. He kissed you softly then, one of his hands tilting your chin up so he could deepen the kiss. 

You had missed him more than you’d like to admit. 

Being in love with your best friends Dad was not something you signed up for, yet here you were. Making out with him while your best friend was sleeping a few feet away from you. 

You really needed to come up with a plan to either tell her or break up with him for good. 

„Should have moved in here,“ he mumbled against your lips and you sighed, sitting yourself up to get closer to him. 

„That would be hard to explain when Sarah comes to visit,“ you whispered as he kissed down your throat. 

„I’d find a way,“ you felt him grin against your skin and you rolled your eyes, before you put one hand on his cheek. He stopped and looked at you. 

„Do we tell her?“ You whispered and he closed his eyes. You were almost sure you ruined the mood when his eyes opened again. 

„Yeah. Yeah we will,“ he said and you heart fluttered in your chest. 

„Yeah?“ You asked. He nodded. 

With a grin you pressed your lips against his, your hand wandering down his chest. 

„When?“ You asked against his lips. His hand was now under your shirt, sliding upwards to your tits. 

„Soon. Don’t wanna sneak around anymore,“ he said, groaning when your hand came down to squeeze his cock through his pants. 

You looked over your shoulder towards Sarah who was still lying with her back towards you, quietly snoring. 

When you looked back at Joel you saw him checking her too, before he looked at you. 

He kissed you again, while you kept rubbing his cock, but soon that wasn’t enough anymore. 

You slowly worked your hand into his pants, Joel hissing when he felt your fingers slipping over his length.

„Baby we can’t….“ He groaned a low fuck as you pulled his cock out of his jeans, already hard as if waiting for you to finally give it some attention.

„We can. If you keep quiet,“ you winked at him before you spit in your hand. Slowly you wrapped your hand around his cock again, slowly pumping the length. 

Joel’s eyes were flying between your face and the love seat where Sarah was still sleeping, none of the wiser to what you were doing with her dad. 

Sometimes you felt guilty for what you were doing with her father. 

Because ever since you met in college you never hid anything from each other. You were lying to your best friend and for what?

Well for one, the best sex you ever had in your life. 

But it was more than that. And a twenty…. No it was seventeen year age gap wasn’t that bad, wasn't it?

Fuck, why were you thinking about that now?

„Gonna put me in your mouth?“ He asked as you slowly kept your hand moving, jerking him off.

You smiled cheekily. 

„I though we couldn’t do that?“ You asked, all innocently. He rolled his eyes. 

„Might as well finish what you started now, Darlin’,“ he hummed and you grinned softly. 

„But maybe I suddenly feel very tired and wanna go to bed?“ You leaned closer to him, lips on his jaw.

„Only if you come to my bed,“ he murmured followed by a low groan as you tightened your fingers around him. 

„We both know if I come into your bed, we both can’t keep quiet,“ you teased and he smirked. 

„I could find way to keep you quiet,“ he rasped, mouth now against your ear as one of his hands squeezed one of your tits and a shiver ran over your body. 

„Could fuck your little mouth with you on your knees in front of me,“ his other hand came to rest over your hand that was jerking him off, guiding your hand a little faster. 

„Could have you sit on my face, eating that wet little pussy while you suck my cock,“ he twitched in your hand and you sighed softly. 

„Or I’ll take you outside in my workshop to fuck you. No ones gonna hear us there,“ he said before he finally kissed you. He moaned against your lips, pumping his length faster. 

„Gonna cum, fuck,“ he groaned and you quickly parted from his lips to lean down, closing your mouth around his tip, his cum filling your mouth seconds later, his hand on the back of your head as you quietly hummed around him. 

„Fuck baby,“ he whispered as you looked up at him, his other hand in his hair, his lips parted as he looked down at you.

„Show me,“ he mouthed and you grinned before you parted your lips, sticking your tongue out that was covered in his cum. 

„Fuck you dirty little girl,“ he shook his head, before he pulled you up and kissed you, his tongue diving into your mouth, tasting his own cum. 

The moment was interrupted as the love seat where Sarah was still sleeping on made a noise as she moved. With wide eyes you jumped from another, Joel pulling the blanket over his lap to hide his cock. 

You both looked towards Sarah, barely breathing before you both realised that she was still sound asleep. 

Looking at each other you both released a long breath before you chuckled. 

He reached under the blanket, tucking himself back into his pants while you got up, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. 

„How about I meet you in your workshop outside in ten minutes?“ You asked, already walking towards the garden where he had transformed a shed into his workshop. 

He raised one eyebrow. 

„Gonna need more than ten minutes after that,“ he said and you smirked. 

„That’s okay. I have some ideas,“ you winked. He smirked, shaking his head. 

„Tell Sarah I already went to bed,“ you whispered, knowing he would wake her so she could go to bed and he nodded. 

Thankfully Joel had a guest room that you used when you stayed over. At least Sarah thought so.

„See you in ten,“ he whispered back and you turned away from him, walking out of the house. 

[thatdammchickennugget]

Happy Birthday

pairing - remus lupin x fem!reader

a/n - my last fic for hogmarch this year! using the forbidden forest prompt. this is also my little present to myself, so yeah, pretty self indulgent, this one hehe

warnings - fluff

wordcount - 985

The day passes in a dull, aching disappointment.

Not that you expect a parade, but maybe at least something. A squeeze of the hand, a whispered Happy Birthday between bites of toast, a smuggled chocolate bar slipped into your pocket during class. But the sun sets, and the halls thin, and curfew looms. And nothing.

You drag your feet toward your dorm, feeling absurdly childish for the sting behind your ribs. People forget things. Even the people who love you. It doesn’t mean they care about you less.

“You’re not going to bed, are you?”

Remus steps up to you before you’re able to disappear in the common room, arms crossed over his chest, casual and with a lazy smile.

You hesitate, fingers curling around the strap of your bag. “It’s nearly curfew.”

“I know,” he says. “Come on.”

You blink at him. “What?”

He doesn’t answer, just tugs at the sleeve of your jumper and starts walking. You don’t think about it—when Remus Lupin tells you to follow, you follow.

The castle corridors are eerily silent, save for the soft tread of your shoes against stone. He’s warm beside you, even at a distance, even as he keeps glancing at you like he’s making sure you’re still there. The staircases shift in your favor once. The tapestries ruffle but let you through.

“This is very unlike you,” you whisper.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Breaking the rules?”

“Yeah. At least without Sirius, James and Peter involved.”

“Well.” He nudges you. “I make exceptions.”

The night air bites at your cheeks as you step outside. He leads you across the lawn, past the greenhouses, into the dark expanse of the Forbidden Forest.

“Remus,” you start warily.

“Trust me?”

You do. You always do.

The trees thin, revealing a clearing bathed in soft golden light. And your breath catches.

Floating lanterns bob gently in the air, casting rippling patterns against the grass. Strings of fairy lights twine around low branches, flickering in harmony with the glow of tiny winged creatures, their iridescent bodies humming with quiet magic. There’s a blanket spread in the center, a small cake balanced precariously atop a book, and—

“Oh.”

Remus exhales like he’s been holding his breath. “Happy Birthday.”

You turn to him, overwhelmed. “You remembered.”

He swallows, gaze flickering to the lanterns. “Course I did.”

A lump rises in your throat. “I thought—” You break off, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” He steps closer, hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to pull away. “I know today was— I should’ve said something earlier. But I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“It certainly was.”

Your voice is small, but he catches it, the corners of his mouth twitching as he ducks his head.

You stare at him in the soft glow, the golden light pooling in the hollow of his throat, the curve of his nose, the gentle, unguarded look in his eyes. His hands twitch like he wants to touch you, but he doesn’t. Not yet.

“I—” you start again, but then there’s a loud rustling from the trees and—

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You jolt as Sirius, James, and Peter tumble into the clearing, grinning wildly. James swings an arm around your shoulder, Sirius shoves a wrapped present into your arms, Peter brandishes a bottle of something suspicious.

“Did we ruin the moment?” Sirius asks, unrepentant.

Remus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You laugh, breathless, heart impossibly full. “No,” you say. “You made it better.”

James summons a stack of more fluffy blankets, Sirius dramatically flops down wrapped into one, and Peter pulls out a tray of cupcakes that look slightly lopsided but smell incredible. The air is filled with warmth, with magic, with the kind of chaotic joy only your friends can make you feel. They hand you gifts—small things, trinkets really, but thoughtful in a way that makes your throat tighten.

“Here, this is for you,” Sirius says, shoving a hastily wrapped package into your lap. You pull off the twine and unfold the soft fabric, revealing a scarf in your house colors. It’s a bit uneven, the stitches imperfect, but it’s warm and soft. You run your fingers over it, touched beyond words.

“You knitted this?” you ask, grinning.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius says, expression serious, but his eyes give his lie away. “I stole it.”

James hands you a small enchanted photograph of the group, taken just a few weeks ago in Hogsmeade. It’s candid—you’re laughing at something, eyes bright, Remus is beside you, watching with a soft expression, and Sirius and James are shoving each other in the background while Peter looks on in exasperation. The edges are slightly worn, as if James has been carrying it around for a while before deciding to give it to you.

“It’s not much,” James says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s perfect,” you assure him, tucking it carefully into your pocket.

Peter hands you a box of Honeydukes sweets, a mix of your favorites. “For when you need a little extra sugar rush,” he says.

As the night deepens, you sit beside Remus on the blanket, knees brushing, sharing a slice of cake that’s slightly squashed but delicious. He watches you with quiet fondness, his fingers twitching near yours. The others are engaged in a heated debate about the best Quidditch teams, voices rising and falling like a familiar lullaby.

“You know,” Remus murmurs, so only you can hear, “I wanted to do something just us. But they refused to stay out of it.”

You glance at him, heartbeat stuttering. “Yeah?”

He nods, gaze flickering to your lips before he looks away, like he wasn’t meant to be caught. “Maybe we could. Tomorrow. If you want.”

The warmth in your chest spreads, unfurling like petals in the sunlight. You nudge his knee with yours, smiling. “I’d like that.”

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

[pombeom]

you’re such a tease! | bnd taesan fic (nsfw)

pairings: strangers to friends to lovers, college/university au, dom!taesan x sub!reader

warnings: lowercase intended, lots of flirty jokes, smut, unprotected sex, nicknames and name calling, teasing, taesan is a big flirt, boob play, dry humping, fingering, edging, creampie, dirty jokes??, fluff ending?

a/n: hello! long time no see! it’s been months since my last post on here and i’m so sorry for that 😭. i’ve been really busy with university and i guess writing kinda took the back seat. can’t promise that i will keep writing consistently, but i really want to post more regularly in the new year. also i know that this isn’t txt content, but i’ve been a bnd stan since debut and i really wanted to write this so i really hope you like it none the less! if you want more bnd drabbles then please lmk!

mdni! nsfw content!

the entire car journey was filled with nerves and excitement. the combination of both drove you slightly insane as you shuffled around in your seat constantly, trying to calm yourself down. you checked the maps once again and see the time has changed from 30 minutes to 5. now you really struggled to hold it in. 

as your dad steered the car right, you enter the campus, welcome banners awaiting your arrival. this was it. your new home. the thumping in your chest grew louder as your mouth stretched across your face into an eager smile. 

“you ready?” your mum asks as your dad parks the car. 

you nod in response, trying to contain your exhilaration. almost jumping, you head off to the main reception following the yellow signs. you weren’t surprised but a long queue awaited you. of course there were other students moving in too. but you were patient and took your place at the back of the line. 

eventually, you made it to the front of the queue and after giving the lady in white your full name and details, she hands you a set of keys and a brochure of instructions. you smiled, thanking her and walked back grinning at your new keys. 

“ah! watch where you’re going!” a raspy voice calls out. 

you turn to face a tall guy dressed in a black band tshirt and dark wash jeans, your head having to tilt a significant amount just to be able to see his face which bore a grimace which changed instantly upon meeting your eyes. his once sour expression morphed into one of flirtation. 

“i’m so sorry. i wasn’t looking.” you say hastily in attempts to end this interaction as soon as possible. you weren’t sure how much longer you could take his staring before you start melting under his control. 

“that’s quite alright. my name’s taesan. what’s your?” oh great. seems like he has other plans. 

“y/n. you’re a first year right?” to which he nods. 

“where are you living this year? i’m guessing on campus?” 

“mhmm. yeah. i’ve been placed at oak hill house.”

“really? me too.” despite the obvious excitement of the news, he maintained his cool tone, still giving you a flirty smile. 

“oh that’s great! i have to go now. my parents are waiting outside but i guess i’ll see you around then?” 

“yeah sure. see you.” 

you wave him a quick goodbye and sped off away from him. the breath you had been holding comes out frantically. no one has managed to make you feel as nervous as taesan just did. with that being said, you prayed that you would never have to run into him again. 

it takes a few hours for you to unload the car and unpack everything into your room, bathroom and kitchen, but with your parents help, everything eventually finds its place and before long, they bid you farewell, taking turns to hug you as you cry into their arms. 

even though you were excited at the prospect of freedom, leaving your parents was always going to be the hardest part of university. you send them off as you stand there holding in your tears, not wanting any of your peers catching you crying outside and soon they drive off until you’re left there alone. 

just as you turn to head back into your block, a familiar face awaits you by the entrance of your building. 

“taesan? what are you doing here?” 

“i live here stupid. i’m on the 3rd floor.” 

“oh right. i forgot. i’m on the 2nd.” 

“did your parents just leave?”

“yeah…it feels so empty now,” you tried not to bring down the mood but he seemed willing to listen. 

“i get it. my parents left earlier too and it felt weird being alone.” 

there was a still silence that followed but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. instead you felt at ease in his presence. 

“do you want to go somewhere?” he asks, pulling his charming expressions once again, making it almost impossible for you to say no. 

so off you go to spend the rest of the evening with your new friend. 

“oi! give me some!” you jump up trying to grab the packet of haribos from taesan. 

he was dangling it above his head, seemingly teasing you for your height, as he burst out laughing at your attempts to grab it from him. no matter how high you jumped it was always just inches away from your reach, and each attempt had taesan laughing at you even more. 

“taesan come on! give me some too!” 

“what do i get for giving you some?”

“i’ll literally do anything. just give me one!”

“anything huh? will you give me a kiss?” he points to his cheek, grinning at your defeated expression.

his request had you freeze as you try and make sense of what he just said. but instead of giving him what he wants, you begin playfully hitting him and as soon as he let his guard down, you grab the packet from him and run off giggling like a child. 

eventually, you slow down catching your breath thinking you were at a safe enough distance from him. you were wrong. your feet are suddenly lifted from the ground, and your body is no longer in your control. taesan picked you up and fling you over his shoulder and begins carrying you back to your accommodation. 

“taesan put me down for fuck sake! i’ll give your sweets back please just put me down!”

“is that you begging, honey?”

you’d known taesan for 2 months now and so you’d grown accustomed to his playful teasing. although there were times you weren’t sure if he was joking or not. 

“oh shut up!” 

“keep up that attitude and i won’t put you down anytime soon.” 

“i’m sorry. but please can you out me down. i can feel my braincells shaking from being upside down.” 

“oh come on y/n. stop being dramatic. but if you do want a real good ‘braincell shake’ i know a way to give it to you.” you couldn’t see his face but you knew he was smirking at his very subtle joke. 

“why am i even friends with you?” you sigh grudgingly, trying to appear annoyed when in fact your stomach was doing flips. 

even though you were just friends with taesan, you couldn’t help but be attracted to him. whether it be his excessive physical touch or random flirty pick up lines, you were always on edge around him, completely unsure of what to expect and how to behave. he’d always push your buttons and get your face looking redder than a tomato when you end up leaving. 

finally, you felt your feet touch the ground as he puts you back down. you try and reorientate yourself and once you do, you realise you’re outside your block. he’d seriously carried you all the way back from the convenience store. 

“come on, let’s go each a movie at mine.” he grabs ahold on your hand and drags you through the several doors in the building until you’re standing outside his room. taesan digs into his pocket to get his keys,  unlocking the door whilst swiftly pulling you into his room. 

in the last few months, you’d been in here more times than you could have counted so you were familiar with the small confinements of his room. you took your usual seat at the end of the bed as he passes you the sweet bag and gets his laptop from his desk. 

“honey, move up. give me some space.” 

after a bit of shuffling, the two of you are squashed under the covers of his single bed, his long legs almost hanging off the end of the bed. till this day you still wander how he even fits in the bed. 

“what do you wanna watch?” you ask, scrolling through netflix. 

“you.” 

you felt the best of his stare and immediately you’re flustered, visibly turning red. 

“taesan stop joking around!” you give him a playful slap on the arm as he chuckles. 

“i meant the show called ‘you’. it’s good apparently.” the smirk that remained on his face, however, suggested that this was just some sort of coverup for his joke. 

“ugh. you’re such a tease.” you roll your eyes at him and turn your attention back to the laptop screen, searching up “you”. 

“you think this is teasing, honey? want me to show how much of a tease i can be?” his arm reaching out in front of you caging you between his body and the wall beside his bed. 

his eyes pierce into yours with a glint of playfulness. you don’t realise his movements but he shuts his laptop, shifting it to the bedside table and swiftly pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him. 

“taesan…what are you doing?” your voice comes out in an almost whisper as your chest heaves up and down as your heart rate increases. 

“teasing you, darling. you look so cute when you’re flustered.” 

his hands grab ahold of your thighs, slowly inching up towards your heat. he gives you a quick squeeze upon reaching your inner thigh, earning him a sharp moan. 

“taesan stop. we’re just friends. we can’t be doing this.” you slightly stutters as you try and move his hands away from your legs. 

“just friends? does it look like i wanna be ‘just friends’ with you? i’ve liked you since we first met. and im almost certain you feel the same way about me. so no i don’t think we’re just friends, don’t you agree, honey?” 

he was right and you were afraid to admit it. the exchanged looks and casual holding hands wasn’t something that “just friends” did. 

you weren’t sure how to respond so instead you shift closer to his body, feeling his now hardened cock against your core. the feeling of it against your clothed skin had you biting your lip, trying to not react to the sensation. 

without wasting any time, taesan holds your face, pulling you closer towards his. you close your eyes and part your mouth, expecting to feel his lips against yours but instead you’re met with a soft snicker. 

“are you that desperate to kiss me?” your eyes open, slighting raging at the extent of his teasing. 

“fuck you! i can’t believe i le-“ before you could finish your sentence, his mouth crashed against your engulfing you into a deep kiss. your stiffened face relaxes against his palm, allowing yourself to melt into the kiss. your hands travel to his neck, wrapping yourself around him, letting him deepen his embrace. 

he’s the first to break away, slowly moving away from you. his hands travel up your shirt, caressing your skin as he makes his way to your chest. your low cut top gave his easy access to your breasts as he begins fondling the plush of your boobs through your bra, your silenced moans escaping your swollen lips. 

soon enough your top comes off leaving your pink bra exposed. 

“my god, y/n. who knew you were hiding such sexy lingerie under that top. did you wear that for me?”

he’d clocked you again but you weren’t going to admit it so you just too your eyes and unclasp the hooks and pull it off in one move. 

“are you gonna get to it or what?” 

“ooh, feisty. how did you know that i liked my women in charge?” 

his palms give each breast a squeeze before starting to suck your hard nipple. his fingers diligently move over to the other one toying with it, pinching and pulling every so often, whilst his other hand rests at the curve of your waist. 

he begins to kiss around the muscle of your breast, slightly biting and leaving red marks around it. you fingers interlace his hair pulling his head closer to your chest. 

you became needy and it showed. you forced him to detach from your tits and pulled off his red t-shirt. your hands trailed down from his neck, making its way to his lower abdomen, edging close to the band of his jeans. 

“now, now. let’s slow down. there’s still time for that,” his expression now containing a mix of flirtation and lust, “i need you to strip. but keep your panties on.” 

you wasted no time to remove yourself of your jeans as you then go back to straddling him. 

“i want you to ride me, princess. i wanna see you ruin yourself over my jeans.” 

steadying yourself, you hold his shoulders for support as you begin grinding against his clothed crotch. your panties were thin and wet increasing the friction between the surfaces. your speed increased with the volume of your whimpers and you rut against him in hopes for a release. 

“ahhh! fuck! i’m so close.” 

“keep going, y/n. keep grinding on me like the whore you are.”

the sudden profanity of his language clicked something in your head, feeling the buildup of your first orgasm in between your legs. 

“ahh! taesan! i’m gonna cum.” 

instead of feeling the bliss of your first release, the sudden loss of contact, sends your high crashing back down. 

“what the fuck!” you exclaim, noticing taesan rejoicing at your annoyance. 

“i told you. i’m gonna show you how much of a tease i can actually be.” 

“can you just fuck me already?” 

“only if you beg for it, honey.”

“taesan, please can you fuck me. i need you in me.” 

“is that so? i can make that happen of you really want.” your rapid head nodding has him giggling, “you’re so cute.” 

he removes his jeans and boxers in one go and flips you to trap you under him. pulling your panties to one side, he dips his fingers into the wetness of your pussy, barely pumping his fingers in and out of your entrance. your back arches as he continues to provoke your pussy, hoping for more contact.  

“taesan please, i want your dick.” your whimpering has him on a chokehold because his cock slammed into you less than a second later. 

the sudden brute force in your pussy, has you gasping as he begins to move along your tight walls. he push was strong, his tip hitting your cervix each time. 

“fuck, y/n you’re so tight. your pussy is clenching onto my dick.” 

his pace starts of rhythmic, going steady as he slammed into you. he was hitting deep and hard. it didn’t take him long, however, to pick up his speed, quickly going off-rhythm. his frantic movements had you gripping his sheets, your moans coming out as an almost cry. 

his hand once again hold onto your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples as his other wraps around your neck. his grip was soft yet effective as you feel yourself begin to feel the buildup of your high. 

“shit, honey. i’m gonna cum but i want you to beg for it first.” 

“taesa- ahhh- please. cum inside me. i’m gonna — cum too!” you cry out, almost sobbing at the pleasure of his rutting. 

he is now fucking you at an inhumane speed, chasing after his own high. you feel your stomach knot as the sensation of your orgasm creeps up your lower back. his strokes hit deeper and more intentional now despite the rapid pace, and with one more hit, he spurts his white strings of cum inside you as your own high has you rolling your eyes back deep into your head. 

“look at what a mess you’ve made in my bed,” taesan points out after pulling out. 

you then acknowledge the wet patches of your tears that now stained his pillow case and then look down to see his cum spilling out of you onto his sheets but you didn’t have the energy to react. 

as you catch your breath, taesan begins cleaning both of you up, grabbing a clean towel to wipe you down. he then sits you onto his chair as he changes the sheets, helping you back into bed once he’s done. 

“aww my poor baby,” he comments noticing your legs shaking, being unable to stand without his support, “maybe i went too hard on you.”

“no, it was perfect. best sex i’ve ever had. and with my favourite person too.” 

taesan hops back into bed, wrapping the two of you up in the duvet, engulfing you in a warm embrace. 

“i like you, y/n. i may mess around with you a lot but i really like you. if you’d let me, can i take you out on a date and i promise i won’t tease you like this again.” 

“i would love that. but only on the condition that you continue to tease me like you always do. i like it. and i liked the sex that came with it too. and i also really you.” 

“if that’s all it takes then i promise.” 

[guiltyasdave]

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?” 

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?” 

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[holdmytesseract]

🩷Salut mon amie🩷

I just can't let this perfect opportunity slip... What about a Daryl x f!reader post-outbreak song fic with “So High School“ by Taylor leading your wonderful mind??? 😊

Clandestine Meetings

Daryl Dixon x fem!Greene!Reader

Summary: You sneak out to meet Daryl in the watch tower - the first moment of privacy you share since months.

Warnings: 18+!!! Minors do not interact! veeery suggestive smut/'smut' (not very graphic, but it's there), fluff, we ignore the age, humour?

Set in Season 3!

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Thank you for requesting, my friend! I don't know if it fits 'So High School', but that's what my mind came up with. Hope you like it! 🤍

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist °☆• Echoes of Hope Masterlist

The sun was about to set when you made your way out of the C-Block. Snuck was probably the more fitting word, though. You snuck your way out of the C-Block. To your luck was everybody else occupied with other things, so you had more or less free rein to get unnoticed to your destination... The watch tower. Once you reached the yard, you adjusted the rifle strapped around your shoulder; a victorious smile spreading on your lips.

You crowed too soon.

"Y/N?" A very familiar voice suddenly cut through the air and caused you to stop dead in your motion. "What are you doing out here? Where are you goin'? It's almost dark..." Maggie... Your sister.

"Damn..." You cursed under your breath; now seeing her approaching you, wearing some of the police gear. A bloody knife was in her hands.

You lifted your head to meet her eyes. "I could ask you the same, y'know," you retorted playfully; hoping that you'd somehow get out of this situation. Maggie frowned for a moment; stepping closer. "Been out with Glenn; fixing the fence and gettin' rid of some walkers." "Ah..." You nodded, "Ya sure do look like it." and giggled; still hoping to get away.

"Where are you goin'? We shouldn't walk 'round here alone. Especially at night. Even though the yard is cleared." "I'm not plannin' to walk around," you immediately said; lifting your hands in surrender. "Don't worry, sis." Your sister crossed her arms over her armoured chest; a stern expression on her face - and you knew immediately that she wasn't up for jokes anymore. She was being serious now. "Spit it out, Y/N - and it better be the truth." You sighed defeated; knowing that you had lost. Well, perhaps you were just really bad at lying and keeping a pokerface. "I wanted to go to the watch tower," you finally admitted; nodding towards the tall building at the foot of the prison. "The watch tower?" Maggie raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Since when are you on watch this late?" "I'm not." You shook your head. "But, uh, Daryl is."

Maggie looked at you surprised. "Daryl?" You nodded; biting your lip. "Uh.Huh. Thought I keep him company for a bit." "Keep him company?" "Mhm."

Your sister gave you a suspicious look, before crossing her arms over her chest. "Is there somethin' I should know about?" "No," you said, but the pink on your cheeks was betraying you. "Y/N..." Maggie pushed; your awkward behaviour rising only more suspicions. "Okay, fine!" You sighed once more. Yeah. you had lost. For real now. Maggie wouldn't let you go without telling her the whole truth. She took her sister role very seriously.

"I, uh, I really like Daryl. Have been since the farm and well, uh, we're kinda together?"

A big smile stretched over Maggie's face. "Honestly? I suspected that you two were a thing." You blinked; shocked and surprised. "W-Wha'? How?" Her smile widened as stepped closer; wrapping an arm around you. "The looks you give each other? Him always making sure you're safe? Especially when we were on the road? I noticed, sis. You two were being not quite subtle..." Your cheeks reddened even more at her words. "Hey, sweetie. No need to be embarrassed 'bout it. I'm happy for you, truly. Daryl is a good man - but if he hurts you, I'll still cut off his balls." You couldn't help but giggle; your nervosity finally melting away. "He won't, Maggie. He's a keeper." "I know. I'm just sayin'..." Your sister said and started to walk away. Halfway, though, she turned back to face you; a smug grin on her lips. "Hey, sis?" "Yeah?" "If you need some, Glenn and I can spare a few condoms," she hollered over; winking and causing you to blush once again. "Maggie!" "What?" She laughed. "Wrap it 'fore you tap it." You rolled your eyes and reached inside your pocket; fishing for something. Once you found the little foil package, you lifted it up for Maggie to see. "I know! I'm prepared!"

Your sister's smirk even widened, "See you in the morning then." and winked at you once more. Before she could walk away, you stopped her. "Maggie?" Again she faced you. "Don't tell daddy yet, okay?" Your sister nodded, "I won't. This is up to you." and truly walked away this time.

Your gaze lingered on her for a moment, before you made your way to the watch tower; silently closing the door behind you and walking up the steps to reach the top door. Cautiously, you stepped inside; finding Daryl gazing out of the window.

"Yer late," his deep, gruff voice urged to your ears as he turned with the tiniest smirk twitching on the corner of his lips. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I, uh, ran into my sister on the way." He shook his head, "'No need ta apologise, darlin'. Hell, 'm happy ya even came." and put his crossbow carefully down; leaning it against the wall beside you rifle.

You raised a playful eyebrow at him. "Why on earth shouldn't I? This is the first time we have some real privacy since the farm." Daryl shrugged his shoulders; chewing on his bottom lip. "Dunno. Coulda lost interest in me or somethin'." "Lose interest in you?" You asked almost in disbelief, "Daryl..." and stepped closer to the archer. You casually leaned against his broad body; hands playing with the buttons of his ruby coloured shirt. "I will never lose interest in you. I love you way too much for that - and the things you make me feel."

A small, smug smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "The things I make ya feel, huh? Tha' good?" You scoffed and playfully slapped his chest. "You know damn well it is."

The archer held your intense gaze for another moment, before he cupped your cheeks and without further ado connected your lips with his; dragging you into a fierce, passionate kiss. A kiss which was enough to light up the fire between you.

With his lips still hungrily moving against yours, Daryl's big hands went to grab your waist and swiftly turn you around in order to urge you forward. When the back of your thighs collided with the edge of a little desk, you knew what Daryl had in mind. Before you were even able to finish your thought, one of Daryl's strong arms engulfed your waist and effortlessly lifted you onto the desk. A soft squeak escaped your lips at his sudden movement, but it quickly faded into a moan as the archer started to latch on your neck; his arm still firmly wrapped around you.

"D..." You gasped and tried to somehow signal him that you were in desperate need of more; arms clinging to his broad upper body. But the man was so lost in you and your sweet scent, that he didn't notice. So, you had to take the steering wheel.

Wrapping your legs around his thighs, you urged him closer; hips colliding with yours. A deep, guttural grunt left Daryl's lips. He pulled back to look at you; pupils blown wide - swallowed by love and desire. Now he got the hint.

Wetting his lips, he made quick work to open your tech-wear pants. "Get rid of 'em, will ya?" He grunted with a nod; now undoing his own rugged jeans. You giggled at his sudden impatience; shedding your pants and underwear, before hopping back onto the desk.

Daryl stepped between your open legs; calloused fingers dancing over your bare thighs, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

In a swift motion, he hooked his palms underneath the back of your knees and pulled you forwards; lips crashing against yours once again. Before your hazy brain was able to catch up, were Daryl's hips moving against yours. All you could do was moan into his kiss and hold onto the archer for dear life.

"D-Daryl..." You breathed; fingers clawing into his angel-winged vest. You could feel him shaking his head against your shoulder. "I-I know, s-sunshine," he grunted; biceps bulging at how tightly he grasped the edge of the wooden desk. You moaned; burying one hand in his hair, which had grown quite a lot in the past months.

Moments later, you fell into the sweet abyss of pleasure together.

The archer was panting hard against your neck; palms now resting on your thighs. "I love ya, too." You giggled and turned your head to press a lingering kiss against his scruff cheek.

Tags: @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @celtic-crossbow @erebus-et-eigengrau @sweetz1919 @fuseburner @in-this-minute @stitchintimefan @suniloli @mandywholock1980 @mischief-dream @km-ffluv @crimson25 @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @marvelcasey05

[destinationtrekk]

i notice (when you're not around)

He promised to always answer when you needed him, no matter what. Or, 5 times he answers your call, and one time you answer his.

2.3k, 5+1 things, mentioned/referenced sex, cursing, domestic fluff, jealousy, canon compliant, S.T.A.R.S reader, I just think Wesker would be the best husband

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3

-> masterlist

-> i notice (when you're not around) on ao3

One

“Wesker speaking.” 

He’s standing in the hallway, only half paying attention to his phone as he keeps an eye on the agents in the conference room. Chris and Barry sounded to be on the verge of snapping at each other, but he had promised to answer when you called. 

“Captain! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

He hums absently, narrowing his eyes into the room, before his attention snaps to you. “Are you crying?” 

You sniffle a few times and clear your throat. “I- no! No, I’m fine! It’s okay, listen I shouldn’t have called, you sound busy-” 

“I am, we’re debriefing with the Beta team. What do you need?” He doesn’t mean to sound harsh, you��re obviously upset, but he really can see Chris’ eyes about to bulge out of his head with every word Barry spits at him. 

“I- well, it’s really embarrassing, actually, but someone rear-ended me and they drove off, but I can’t get dispatch to answer because I think there’s something going on downtown-” 

He barks out your name, “Get to the point.” 

You suck in an audible breath and sniffle again. “My car is totaled, and I think I have a concussion.” 

Chris is now standing over the table, sneering at Barry while Jill and Rebecca hold both of them back. Wesker sighs heavily, and hangs his head. “Where are you? I’m leaving now.” 

Two

You’re sitting stiffly on his couch - the couch , you keep forgetting this is technically your home now too. He’s only been gone a week, but the dark woods and long driveway outside the house drive an eerie feeling straight through your stomach. Your phone is pressed tightly to your ear, the dial tone like a death bell over the speaker. 

“Wesker speaking.” 

You suck in a breath, suddenly at a loss for words. What had you even called for? 

He makes a sound like he’s checking the phone and grumbles. “I'm busy. What is it?” 

You snap out of whatever nervous trance you were in. “Sorry, it’s nothing, I just thought I heard something and I thought- it’s fine!” Your voice squeaks as you try to excuse why you really wanted to call. Somehow over the last year he's become a comfort to you, somewhere between being your suave mysterious Captain to stealing you away after the Arklay incident. He hadn’t left you alone longer than a day or two since then. Now, sitting alone in the middle of the night in his- your - dark, empty house, you just really needed to hear his voice. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He sounds smug, and you hear the crunch of snow and distant yelling. “Poor pet. You miss me, don’t you?” 

You scowl and blush. “Wha- no! When are you coming home?” 

He chuckles darkly and hums. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you bite your lip as you sway in place, trying to channel your nerves. How do you ask for the terrorist who practically kidnapped you for reassurance? His voice has an unfamiliar note to it when he replies. “Shouldn’t be much longer. You know I can’t tell you more.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” You swallow around the lump in your throat, voice sounding small. “I just… can’t sleep. I got used to you talking in your office, and now it’s… really quiet outside.” 

He’s quiet again, and you laugh awkwardly to fill the same silence that’s making you paranoid. “Sorry, that’s probably weird-” 

“Go lay down, pet. In my bed.” 

You freeze at his words, choking on a breath as he sighs. You had been in his room a total of once, only after you drunkenly kissed him and he put you to bed. You hadn’t talked about that night, but he had been…not affectionate, but certainly less distant since it happened. 

“I’m serious. I can talk for a few more minutes, but that’s it.” 

You quickly make your way to his room, crawling under his soft sheets and laying there stiffly. He must hear the rustle of the sheets and your tense breaths because he scoffs. “It’s just a bed, relax. Nothing is getting in there without me finding out.” 

You whisper a weak “Okay,” and listen as he begins to tell you about something simple he’s been doing in Antarctica, and you realize he’s definitely making up details to cover what’s really going on. You don’t mind though, and quickly begin to drift off to the gruff rumble of his voice. You’re nearly asleep when he says he has to go, but you swear you can hear one last thing before he hangs up, and the three quiet words sound suspiciously like what you had whispered to him, right before kissing him. 

You might be wrong though, but the sheets smell like him, and you finally sleep through the night. 

Three

“Hello, dearheart.” 

“Are you alone? Take me off speaker.” Your voice was dark, and you heard Albert’s sigh. You imagined him rolling his eyes the way he did when you made a joke he didn’t like. “I’m serious, Albert. This is important.” 

That caught his attention. You heard him speak low away from the phone, and then the click of a door shutting. “What’s wrong? Are you oka-” 

“You need to get rid of her. Right now.” You cut him off, gripping your phone so tight your fingers were starting to ache. “I mean it, if I so much as hear her voice -”

“What the hell are you on about?” He sounded nearly as pissed as you now, and you felt a spark of vindication in your chest. “I don’t have time to listen to you throw a tantrum because I can’t babysit you. I have work to do.” 

“Watch your mouth, Albert, I’m not the one letting an Italian nepo baby run her filthy hands all over me. I don’t give a shit what work you have to do, you should consider yourself lucky I haven’t gotten rid of her myself.” 

He was silent for a moment, and then his laugh rumbled through your speaker. “Fiesty today, are we, pet?” He paused, and sighed. Despite your anger, your lip twitched in amusement at the thought of him sliding his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am… sorry, that she did that. But you know what’s at stake here, and that she is a key part of Tri-Cell-” 

You scoffed. “Yeah, Tri-Cell’s expansion, whatever. I don’t care. She can be a key part over a fucking Skype call for all I care, just keep. Her hands. Off of you.” You growled into the phone, white-knuckling the desk you were standing over. His desk, actually, where you had sneakily logged into his database and were watching his hacked security systems. You smirked to yourself at his bristling silence. He may be the evil mastermind, but he didn’t keep you around for nothing. 

“I’ll do what I can.” 

It was as good a promise as you would ever get from him, and you hummed flatly, your anger starting to dissipate. “Fine… please come home in one piece.” 

He huffed again, but sounded softer. “I will, sweet thing.” 

You let a smile slip out at his words. “I love you, Al.” 

“Stop going into my office when I’m gone.” 

The call clicked, and you set your phone on his desk. You looked back up to the monitors, seeing him enter the room with Excella and Jill again, but this time he pointedly waved her off as she approached. Your mouth twitched in a smirk. Albert may not be a sweet man, but he certainly knew when to listen. 

Four 

“I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris. How disappointing…” 

Before Wesker could sneer at Chris’ cheesy retort, his phone rang in his pocket. He immediately pulled it out, recognizing your ringtone like he would his own voice. “Yes?” 

“Hi, baby. You’re not busy, are you? The neighbors just did the absolute worst thing and I really wanted to-” Your voice was like honey to his ears, before you dropped the sweet tone and cut yourself off. “Is that Chris?” 

He dropped the phone to his side, smirking as Jill took the BSAA agents out with ease. He could hear your voice still jabbering from the speaker, no doubt confused and nosey about where he was. He ignored you a moment longer, sneering at Chris pinned to the floor beneath Jill as he taunted him. “...I’ll leave you two to catch up.” 

He quickly reactivated the P30 device on Jill, before he turned and entered the elevator, pointedly ignoring Chris’ obnoxious yelling. He finally raised his phone back to his ear, where, no surprise, you were still yapping. 

“-Anyway, that wasn’t really the point, but Greg said he thinks it’s my brake system, but I’m not having a problem with-” 

“It’s not your brakes, I just had those changed in December.” Wesker scowled, annoyed by stupid neighbor Greg’s complete incompetence. You stopped talking, and laughed breathily. “Oh, good you’re listening again. Was that Chris? You didn’t tell me this was an arch nemesis mission, you should’ve told him I said hi!” 

“He is not the point of this ‘mission’, my love. Merely an obstacle I have to kick aside, as usual.” 

You hummed knowingly, odd shuffling and tapping sounds coming though your end of the call. Wesker’s mouth twitched in a smile, you were probably making lunch right about now. 

“Did you fight him? I wish I could’ve seen, I bet you were doing that sexy hand thing agai-” 

“What are you yapping about now?” He growled, face quickly heating up. Only you had ever managed to make him blush like a teenager with your frankly vulgar mouth. 

“What? You know what I’m talking about, the thing where you start bending your fingers like you don’t know how to make a fist- it’s actually kind of cute, but you do something similar every time you’re fingerin-” 

He let out a choked breath, and hung up the call right as he heard your bright laugh. He struggled to will away his red cheeks before the elevator doors opened. God forbid Excella see him like this, he would never hear the end of it from either of you. 

Five

“Hngh- what is it?” 

You’re glaring at the soup aisle shelves when he answers, his voice gruff and raspy from sleep. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen. Shit, you hadn’t even thought he might finally be asleep. “I’m sorry baby, were you napping? I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

He groans and the rustling of sheets crackle through the phone like static. “S’fine. What do you want?” 

You can’t blame him for sounding grumpy. You would too, after all, if you had been dragged half-burned-alive covered in black goo from a volcano less than a month ago. “I’m at the grocery store, what soup do you want? I know you usually like the stew but Uro made you sick when you had it the other day so I’m thinking maybe just broth?”

He grumbles, and you think he might actually be mad now. “I told you to quit calling it that, it isn’t a pet, it’s a damn virus.” 

You hum noncommittally. “Well, we’re kind of stuck with it forever, and it really does have a mind of its own. Do you want to try ramen instead? You said you liked the chicken when you had it that one time, but we don’t have to use the powder.” 

He’s silent on the other end, and you frown, calling his name worriedly. He groans and rustles the sheets again. He heaves a great sigh, and mumbles a quick “I want chicken noodle.” 

You smile widely, setting a few cans in the cart, and then grabbing a couple more just in case . He used to eat enough for a football team, and his appetite has slowly been coming back since he’s been home. “Gotcha. I should be home in about an hour, traffic was kind of bad on the way-” 

He’s snoring through the speaker, a deep rumble of air that he would absolutely blush and stammer and scowl about if you mentioned it. You just shake your head fondly and end the call. 

Maybe his stomach would be up for trying something sweet tonight, you’d better get a box of hot chocolate as well. 

Plus One

You’re surprised when your phone rings as you crawl into the hotel bed, the sheets stiff but soft, and also freezing . You’re tempted not to answer it, but you can’t stop yourself. 

“You know we aren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding, Al.” 

He doesn’t talk, but you can hear the wet slide of his hand as he strokes himself. He’s panting, soft puffs of air. “We aren’t seeing each other- ah, we’re on the phone.” 

You smirk, and begin to pass your hand down your chest, feeling the blush heating up your skin. “Wes’... you’re gonna give us bad luck.” 

He groans weakly, the slick sounds picking up. “C’mon, baby, just a few minutes- I won’t even touch you, I just-” he gasps, and you adore the way he sounds utterly broken fucking his own hand. You hum, pretending to consider it for a moment. 

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you should finish at all, actually.” You can’t help the teasing lilt of your voice, or the way your stomach drops when he moans again.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t get over here, now-” 

“Goodnight, Albert.” You murmur breathlessly, making sure he hears the wet drag of your fingers between your legs, and at his choked groan you hang up the call. Just a few more hours , you think as you bring yourself over the edge at the memory of his wide, calloused palms. He’ll be mine.

[gracescoolbeans]

but nights with you are better [A.Giarratana]

paring: angela giarratana x reader

summary: sleepless nights aren’t so bad when you have angela to keep you company

warnings: none, just fluff; a few dashes of anxiety; sleepy angela being way too cute; shameless nerdy prudes must die plug; not proofread!

wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: i’ve been having a really hard time falling asleep lately so i wrote this fic instead of actually doing something about it 😅 i’ve been wanting to write angela fics since i started this blog but i’m finally committing! i have far too many ideas and not enough time but i’ll make it work somehow…hopefully 😶 anyway, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

A sigh tumbles out of your mouth as you roll away from your girlfriend and stare up at the dark ceiling above you. You close your eyes and try to fall back asleep to no avail.

Looks like another sleepless night.

You turn your head to look at the brunette next to you, a part of you wanting to reach out and wake her. The two of you haven't been living together for long and you were still getting used to sharing a sleep schedule with someone else.

More than that, you were slowly becoming an expert in getting up out of bed without making a shit ton of noise. It wasn't as easy as it sounded. Especially because Angela's ears were somehow completely tuned to you.

You were making it work, though, and the slight challenge was a small price to pay to live with your girlfriend.

You and Angela had decided moving in together would fix both your need to find a better place to live (with slightly more manageable rent) and her need to spend more time with you in between her endless gigs. Her work ethic was admirable, albeit slightly unhealthy. At least this way, you could keep an eye on each other.

Of course, you'd sort of forgotten to mention the troubles you usually have with falling asleep and staying asleep. You didn't necessarily consider yourself an insomniac, but you did go through days, weeks, sometimes even months, of struggles that couldn't be soothed with warm tea or less screen time.

Your girlfriend, on the other hand, couldn't seem to get enough of sleep. She could nap anywhere as long as she was somewhat comfortable. It would be awesome if you weren't so jealous of her ability.

Angela needed her sleep, though. She worked way too hard for way too many hours and her only form of self-care was simply a plate of pasta and a glass of wine.

That's why you decided that instead of waking her up with your endless tossing and turning, you'd get up and put a comfort movie on the TV and chill there until you got sleepy again.

Instead of a movie, though, you stumbled across Nerdy Prudes Must Die and decided to watch it for the hundredth time. It didn't replace the soft sound of Angela's voice next to your ear when she held you against her, but it was good enough for now.

So, you snuggled up on the couch with an unbelievable amount of pillows, a warm blanket, and a slightly grumpy Spork next to the couch.

That's exactly where you were when Angela made her way out of the bedroom in search of you. "y/n?"

You turn your head at the sound of your girlfriend's voice, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips when you take in her sleepy appearance. "Hey, babe. Why're you awake?"

"Dunno," she shrugs as she struggles to suppress a yawn. "But I got worried when I didn't feel you. You okay?"

Her concern, paired with her extra raspy voice, makes your heart swell. "Yeah, I'm fine, just couldn't sleep."

She pouts, walking over to join you on the couch. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"So you could be grumpy and complain?"

"Good point."

You chuckle as you move over to make room for Angela. She manages to fit in between you and the couch, her arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you against her chest.

"Wait, what are you watching?" She asks.

"What do you think, doofus?" You reply, playfully elbowing her stomach. "Don't talk so much, though, it's my favorite part."

Your favorite part, of course, being the entirety of Dirty Girl. Angela, on the other hand, always has a hard time watching that part since she's way too focused on herself and her "mistakes". 

What she calls mistakes, though, you call her acting quirks. Quirks that turn Grace Chasity into one of the most complex and entertaining characters you've ever seen.

"Do I really have to watch this?" She grumbles, leaning down and burying her face in the side of your neck.

"You can go back to sleep if you want." Your hands find their way on top of hers and you allow your fingers to trace the backs of them, along with the slightly protruding veins that cover them.

"Not while I'm listening to myself."

It's hard not to find her constant complaining funny and you barely manage to hold in your laughter. She's always slightly more sensitive than usual when she's tired, so you take pity on her...for now.

Thankfully, she stops pouting long enough for you to watch the best part of the whole musical. You don't miss the way she sings the song under her breath even though you decide not to call her out on it.

"How many times have you seen this?" She asks once she's sure your favorite part has passed.

"A lot," you say, feeling your cheeks heat up with the admission. "I watch it when I miss you."

"Baby-" She tries her hardest to hold in a laugh but ultimately fails. "You could have just woken me up!"

Angela's clear amusement does little to soothe your growing embarrassment. You try to squirm away from her to avoid any further teasing but she simply holds you tighter, pulling you closer until you're flush against her once more.

"Sorry, sorry, you know I'm just teasing," she mumbles, pressing a line of kisses to the side of your neck.

"You're annoying," you huff.

Despite your words, you sink back against her once more, tilting your head slightly to give her better access to your skin.

"You know you love me, princess."

"That doesn't make you any less annoying."

Her kisses trail up your neck and onto your jaw before finally landing on your lips.

"I'm serious, by the way," she whispers once she pulls away. "Wake me up next time. I don't care how tired I am. I want to be here with you."

"Hmmm..." You pretend to think about it for a second just to steal another kiss from her. "You've got yourself a deal, angel."

She laughs again as she rests her chin on your shoulder, silently going back to watching the musical with you.

You make it all the way to Hatchet Town before your eyes grow far too heavy for you to keep them open. 

Angela gently shifts you until your head rests against her shoulder. She watches you for a few moments until she's sure you've gone back to sleep.

She knows her back will be awfully sore tomorrow morning and you'll definitely have a kink in your neck but it's a small price to pay for a few more hours of cuddles. Not just cuddles, though, she was banking on you staying asleep until morning this time.

She'd stay up all night to keep an eye on you if she had to. You're far more important to her than some extra hours of sleep.

[moon-ttokki-x]

𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨' 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 ⊹ 𝙮𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙜

pairing: bang chan x reader

summary: you go out on new year's eve with chan and the rest of skz

genre: literally just fluff, it's cold ig

a/n: happy new years, everyone! i wanted to do a little special fic to mark the start of a new chapter (ha ha not literally) and even though it doesn't snow here, i wrote colder weather into the fic anyway for that extra vibe 🌨️

skz masterlist

Your breath puffs out in front of you in sharp, frosty clouds as you and Chan weave your way through the busy streets. The air is tangy and cold with the promise of more snow to come, though in the morning, most of it will begin to melt.

Everywhere you look, there are people; weaving through the busy sidewalks, holding hands with their loved ones, streaming out of shops or stores.

Next to you, Chan grins, his cheeks feeling stiff and iced with the cold weather, but slowly thawing with the warmth of his smile. He was in his element; he'd told you a while ago that he had made it a tradition with the kids to go out on the very first day of the new year, spending hours into the night laughing, eating, and exploring.

So, this year, he decided to bring you along too. It's chaos, but for once, Chan doesn't make an immediate move towards Seungmin and Jeongin, who are tossing back and forth creative insults a little way ahead of you on the sidewalk, or to Hyunjin, who's busy scooping up handfuls of snow to put down Felix's shirt.

Minho hovers nearby, his phone camera at the ready, and the neck of his shirt tucked in tightly, secure and cheeky-dongsaeng-proof. The rest of the boys are scattered up ahead, and though Chan hangs back, holding your hand and letting the other members supervise for once, you can tell he's checking in every few minutes anyway. Just in case.

You squeeze his hand a little tighter.

Normally, for you, the new year brings about a sense of loneliness and gloom; you were a storm, overcast with the grey feeling of another year passing by without feeling like you'd achieved anything. And for some reason, it seemed to weigh down on the times when you were supposed to be happiest. Like now.

Of course Chan noticed; yet again, his gentle, perceiving nature had reached out a hand to you, though it was shaking a little with the cold. So you had taken it, and now you found yourself seated next to him at a cosy, steamy restaurant on a street corner, all the other members crammed around the table, packed in tight but their spirits and feeling flying free.

You rub your nose, feeling the inside thaw a little as you inhale steam floating from the kitchen. Everything is soaked in rosy, warm light; your hands, Chan's face, the table in front of you all, and all the other guests chattering away and eating at their own tables.

Chan nudges you. You look up at his face; kind, dark eyes, a flush high on his cheekbones, staining the skin pink. He's a little paler than usual because of the cold, and his hands look the same way, but the radiance of his usual self shines brighter no less.

"You okay?" He whispers.

You nod back and you notice that his teeth are chattering slightly.

"Yeah, just recovering from the cold outside. It's much warmer in here."

Chan nods, puffing out a laugh. "I thought the boys were gonna freeze out there too, alongside us."

You steal a glance at the seven members, who are busy bickering and chattering and being their usual selves. They all erupt into laughter just as Felix pulls out a chunk of snow from the hem of his jacket and shoves it down Hyunjin's shirt instead.

You chuckle. "They move too fast for the frost to catch them."

Chan sighs wearily in agreement and you laugh, feeling the grey, stormy cloud hanging over your head lift a little.

Two hours, a lot of food, and nine full bellies later, you're all walking back down the street to a famous lookout point. It's not midnight yet and it won't be for a while, so Changbin suggested killing time by looking over the city of Seoul before heading back to watch the fireworks.

You all reach the steps to head to the lookout tower and the boys scramble up, skipping stairs. Joking threats of pushing each other down the steps and playful bickering disturbs several other people and Chan bows hurriedly before moving to follow the rest of his band. His hand is still glued to yours, however, and he jolts in his tracks as he moves and you stay rooted to the bottom of the steps.

"Channie," you say quietly. "Wait."

He steps back to your level, looking into your eyes with curiosity. "What is it? Are you okay?"

Though it's cold, you feel your palms sweating a little as you reach into your pocket, closing your hand around something as you keep eye contact with the man in front of you.

"I wanted to give you something," you whisper. "Because you always do so much for me, and I wanted you to know that I love you."

Chan smiles warmly. "I love you too."

You pull out the flat box from your pocket. It's dark blue and about the size of your palm, and you hand it to him with shaking fingers, soothed by the brush of Chan's own fingers brushing yours as he takes it gently.

He opens the box. Inside is a silver bracelet; a chain, just like the ones he loves to wear. There's a pendant at the bottom; a silver love knot threaded with tiny black diamonds, and two smaller pendants either side of that one, each depicting little bold letters spelling out yours and Chan's names.

Chan takes it out of the box with shaking hands and you help him clip it to his wrist. He turns it over and over, his eyes almost glowing with soft, adoring affection.

"I love it," he whispers. "Thank you."

You smile and pull back your own jacket sleeve, where an identical bracelet rests. Where the diamonds on Chan's pendant are black, yours are a silvery white, the colours opposing but still working so well together. Chan's eyes widen at the sight of it. Black and white.

Yin and yang.

You're still holding back your sleeve as Chan stares with unfiltered adoration at the identical chain circling your wrist. Earlier, the cold stung and whipped icicles against the softness of your skin, seeping into your bones and biting with icy teeth.

Now, you don't even feel it. It's like a bubble of warmth has begun to radiate from your shared presence at the bottom of the steps, the snow beginning to fall lightly around you both. You can almost feel waves of it rolling off of Chan's body and you sink into his inviting, cosy warmth, wrapping your arms around Chan's shoulders as his arms circle tightly around your waist.

The cold does nothing to hurt you now, not while Chan is here. The last remnants of stormy cloud dissipate and you feel a warm, pleasant feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. With Chan, it is warm, and safe, and the love between you is known.

You hope it stays that way.

a/n: first fic of 2025 hehe