#and now it’s your problem 🤗🤗

[1800-lemon-boy]

Friendly reminder that hearthstone was blamed for his brother’s death even though there was nothing he could have done.

<33

[hearts4hughes]

HE’S NOT ME | ANAKIN SKYWALKER X READER

note: first writing for anakin! my obsession for him is reawakening, and yk my fav trope is bsf x bsf!reader 🤗

you’re sparring again.

fourth time this week. sixth time if you count the ones that end with him lying flat on his back, laughing, arm flung over his face like he’s hiding something (he is.)

the training room is warm. dusk curls at the windows. your saber slices through the air in a clean arc, but he parries it fast, almost cocky.

“you’re slow today,” he smirks, gaze falling to the way your fingers grip your saber. he shakes his head, trying to free himself from his thoughts.

you glare. “you’re annoying every day.” you lunge at him, your braid whipping through the air with the movement. he simply side-steps you, like he’s calculated your every move.

“true,” he says, and winks.

it should be harmless. you’ve known him since you were both initiates. slept in the same bunks, snuck into the same mess halls after curfew. sparred until your arms shook, until your breathing fell into the same rhythm.

but lately… something’s off.

his touches linger. his jokes cut deeper. and his stare? his stare burns.

“where were you earlier?” he asks, not even trying to sound casual.

“with quinlan,” you mutter, distracted by the way he circles you now. he’s measured, sharp, a little too tight.

he freezes. “quinlan vos?”

“yeah?” you raise a brow. “he asked me to train. we ran drills.”

anakin’s grip on his saber tightens. knuckles pale beneath the glove.

“he’s not your partner.” his voice is lower now. something deeper, darker sparkles in his eyes. “he’s not me.”

you blink. “are you seriously jealous?”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he lunges. his saber collides with yours so hard it makes your arms tremble.“you think he can protect you?” he grits out, eyes locked on yours. “he flirts. he doesn’t care. not like I—”

he stops. chest heaving.

not like what, skywalker?

“what’s your problem?” you snap, breathless. you throw your saber on the ground, and turn away from him. your arm cover your chest as you stare at the ground.

he drops his saber and steps into your space.

“you don’t get it,” he says, eyes dark and storming. “i see the way they look at you. vos, kenobi, every soldier in the hangar bay. they think they can.”

“can what?” your voice falters. curiosity lingers in your gaze as his muscles stiffen.

then, he leans in. heat rolls off him like wildfire. “touch you. take you. love you.”

you stifle our a dry laugh, absent of any humor. “and you think you’re any different?”

his eyes flash.

“no,” he says, voice breaking open. “i know i’m not. i’m worse,” his voice falters. “but at least i don’t pretend.”

then his hands are on your face, pulling you in like the force itself is dragging you together. and when he kisses you, it’s not soft. it’s not sweet. it’s desperate. possessive. like he’s been starving and you’re the only thing that could ever feed him.

you gasp against his mouth, fingers curling in his hair.

his hand slides down your spine, anchoring you to him, like you might vanish if he lets go.

“you’re mine,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours. “not theirs.”

you don’t say anything.

you don’t have to.

your mouth just finds his again.

and for the first time, he stops pretending to be your friend.

[xoxolaw]

I loveee your geom seongje fics so much!!! What about reader who hates smoking because either she doesn’t like it orr has breathing problems (you pickk) and seongje has an unspoken rule in the union that if someone smokes within 6ft of reader they’ll get…beaten up 🤗🤗

-🦕

+ SIX FEET OF SMOKE AND SILENCE

in which seong-je makes a rule in union to not smoke within six feet of his girlfriend, only for him to not follow it.

Geum Seong-je x reader

slight angst, fluff

Everyone in the Union knew one rule without needing it posted on a wall or barked across the courtyard:

No one smoked within six feet of Seong-je’s girlfriend.

There was no memo. No warning. But the message spread fast after one poor bastard lit up too close to her during lunch break behind the gym. He hadn’t even finished his first puff before he was on the floor, coughing blood and gasping through a broken nose. Seong-je didn’t say a word after. He just stepped over the guy, lit his own cigarette, and leaned back against the wall like nothing happened.

Since then, the six-foot rule was sacred.

She hated smoking. The smell. The burn. The heavy feeling it left in the air. It clung to her skin when she walked through the old wing where delinquents spent their time. And Seong-je—for all his stubborn chaos—smoked like it kept his pulse steady.

She didn’t ask him to quit. That wasn’t her way. But he knew how she felt. She never looked away from the truth, and when she wrinkled her nose or shifted just slightly away, he knew.

Today, the courtyard was empty, save for them.

She’d been looking for him, half-pissed, half-worried, when she found him under the awning behind the old practice rooms. A familiar white stick between his fingers, the faint hiss of fire at the tip.

He was already mid-drag when he looked up and froze.

Their eyes locked.

She didn’t speak. Just walked forward. Each step deliberate.

And Seong-je, for once, didn’t smirk.

The cigarette dangled loosely from his fingers, smoke curling lazily up like it wasn’t in trouble.

She stopped three feet from him.

He exhaled slowly. "I thought you were in the main hall."

She crossed her arms. "Didn’t realize that changed your personal radius."

He stared at her for a beat. Then, with a quiet breath, he flicked the cigarette to the ground and ground it beneath his boot. No dramatic sigh, no annoyed glare. Just a muted act of surrender.

She blinked. That…was new.

"You mad?" he asked, watching her expression closely.

She tilted her head. "You made a whole rule for me, Seong-je. But you can't follow it yourself?"

"That rule’s for everyone else," he replied, deadpan. "I make exceptions for myself."

She narrowed her eyes.

He hesitated.

Then his voice softened. "But I wasn’t thinking. That’s on me."

Silence stretched.

It wasn’t just about the cigarette. Not really. It was about the things that built up over time. How he always took care of her in his own violent, twisted way. How he respected her space, protected her name, and never let the world touch her with dirtied hands.

But still smoked like it didn’t matter.

"Why do you need it so badly?" she asked, arms still folded, but her voice quieter now.

His lips parted. He looked away, tongue running along his inner cheek.

"It shuts things up in my head," he said eventually. "Gives me something to do with my hands when I’m not picking fights."

A beat passed.

"You always seem calmer when I'm around."

He looked back at her.

"I am."

The silence grew thicker. Tension slipped in between them like static.

She stepped closer. Two feet now.

He didn’t move.

"Then maybe you don’t need it," she murmured.

His breath caught. Not from the words. From how close she was now. How she tilted her chin up, how the wind caught strands of her hair and lifted them between them like whispers.

"Maybe," he said, voice low. "But habits die hard."

Her eyes flicked down to his fingers—still twitching slightly, like they missed the cigarette already.

Then she did something that made him pause.

She reached into his pocket and pulled out the pack herself.

Seong-je blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Testing a theory."

She pulled one cigarette out, then held it up between her fingers like she’d seen him do a hundred times.

"You hate smoking," he said, stepping closer. Just inches now.

"I do."

"Then why?"

"Because maybe if you see me do it, you’ll stop."

He stared at her. Hard.

She was bluffing. He knew it. But then—

She raised the cigarette to her lips.

His hand shot out.

But instead of pulling it away, he held it for her. Between his fingers. Just like he always did.

"This is how you hold it," he murmured. His voice dropped, the space between them now non-existent.

His girlfriend didn’t move.

He brought the cigarette to her lips. She looked at him, stubborn but nervous. The kind of nervous she never let anyone see.

He lit it.

"Now inhale—slow. Then let it sit for a second. Then breathe it out."

She tried.

And immediately coughed, turning away, shoulders shaking.

He chuckled, low and smug. "Yeah, that tracks."

She glared at him with watery eyes. "Asshole."

"You tried to play cool. That’s on you."

She shoved him, but it was half-hearted. He caught her wrist.

"You hate it, don’t you?"

She didn’t answer.

His fingers curled around hers gently. "Don’t do that again."

"Then stop making me worry."

They stared at each other.

And something cracked open.

He raised her hand still holding the cigarette. Took it back between his fingers. Then brought it to his own lips.

Smoked.

Exhaled away from her.

Then tossed it aside.

He leaned in, close enough that she could smell the smoke clinging to him and feel the heat of his breath.

"I’ll quit."

She blinked.

"But only if you keep looking at me like that."

She shoved him again. He caught her around the waist this time.

Pulled her close.

"You really want me to stop?"

She nodded. Small. Honest.

He lowered his head, lips brushing her ear. "Then kiss me. And mean it."

Her breath hitched. She hesitated.

Then she kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t perfect. But it was raw, honest, and more addicting than any nicotine high he’d ever chased.

When they broke apart, her forehead pressed to his, he smiled. Not the usual arrogant smirk. Something quieter.

"Guess I found a better habit."

And for once, the air between them was clean.

---

AUTHOR'S NOTE + MASTERLIST

I hope you enjoyed <33 I love how everyone's making requests!! Also in case anyone's wondering how I am so quick at doing the request 😭 The exam gaps are the best motivation to do anything other than studying lmao.

[nfr-girly]

Healing hands 🩺 🩹 Michael Robinavitch x reader (spoilers)

Angst + fluff ❤️‍🩹 :: I’m not a medical expert at all so some of the information may be wrong 😵‍💫

Masterlist

~~~~

It was 12 hours into the shift. Robby was barely holding it together. Too much had happened today, Nick Bradley’s overdose, mr Spencer’s death, the little girl who drowned saving her sister, the shooting, Langdon, on top of today being the anniversary of Adamsons death. He wasn’t even supposed to be here.

It was like a never ending dance, every turn he took he had to deal with another problem, on top of that dealing with the stress of trying to save Jake and his girlfriend from bullet wounds. Luckily he had managed to save them both. (let’s pretend she survives 🤗)

It’s not an easy job, he knows that. It drains him every single day. But what motivates him to keep on going is very simply because of you. He does this job to build you two a life, he keeps on going because he knows you’ll be there at home waiting for him.

He knows you worry about him, how could you not? You see it on his face after work every day. All the lost patients, all the exhaustion. You know today is the most hardest on him. He hasn’t worked today for four years, when he got ready this morning you were hesitant to let him go. You knew he wasn’t stable enough, even though he told you he was, countless times.

No one at the er even knows about you two. The only ones who do are Dana, Frank and Dr Collins.

Right now, Robby seems to actually have a moment to himself. He sits at his computer, but really he’s only looking at his phone. He texted you a few hours ago how you were doing. It was your day off today, you made sure you had time off to be with Robby. (Before he ultimately decided to go to work). You hadn’t texted him back yet.

He didn’t want to worry himself too much, already on the verge of breaking down. So instead he sorted out documents.

He heard someone being brought in behind him, turning his head he tried to look, but the face of the person was covered by someone.

“They were involved in an attack by a drunken man. They were just walking in an alley when a man came up behind them and stabbed them in the shoulder.”

Robby overheard this as he got up and followed them into a room. Still not being able to see their face.

“Where’s the man now?” He asks, back turned to the patient as he puts his gloves on

“He’s been arrested, a man saw it and reported it to the police. He’s out there right now making a statement”

Robby nods, and quickly turns around, prepared to check their shoulder when he stops.

He felt his heart drop. All wind goes out his lungs and he can feel his ears ringing. Fuck.

There you were, lying on the gurney, your eyes were closed but you were alive. You were mumbling out incoherent words.

Suddenly the room was spinning, he could feel countless eyes on him as he spent about 20 seconds trying to assess the situation. Trying to convince himself that somehow you aren’t the one lying on the table.

“Alright catch me up on what-“ Dana speaks out as she walks into the room, but ultimately stops as she realises who the patient is. She looks towards Robby, who still hasn’t moved.

Dr Santos, now confused by the two, speaks up. “They have a stab wound on their right shoulder, got involved with a drunken man in an alley and he just stabbed them. It’s a little too close to the axillary artery for my liking.”

Dana nods in understanding, deciding to take charge of the situation while Robby still tries to figure out what to do. The room works around him, Dana occasionally leads the students on how to handle the wound. Suddenly, a voice can be heard.

“Robby”, it was muttered so quietly, any softer and no one would have heard it. Everyone looks towards him and he realises you’ve just called his name. He doesn’t know whether to sigh in relief or break down on the spot. He doesn’t leave time to think as he rushes to your side.

“Hey honey, I’ve got you you’re okay” he holds the side of your face and you give him the smallest smile you can. In the state you’re in, that smiles a godsend. Everyone around him seems to finally understand what’s going on. A newfound pressure is felt on everyone.

Robby immediately speaks up and gives out orders what to do, he doesn’t leave your side for a second.

Eventually, your shoulder is cleaned and is being stitched up now by Robby. Everyone has left you two to be on your own.

No words were exchanged between you two. You weren’t sure who would break the ice first.

While he stitches you up, you turn your head to look towards him, you can see the concentration on his face, but you can also see the worry, the stress from today. You don’t know what’s happened but you don’t need to be a genius to know he’s not okay.

“Robby.” You say, softly

He looks up at you and lets you speak.

“Are you okay?”

Robby chuckles quietly, not because of your question but just at how unbelievably caring you are. Even though you’re lying there, stab wound in the shoulder and half sedated, you still want to make sure he’s okay.

“I should be asking you that. What were you doing in an alleyway?” He feels guilty, if he hadn’t gone into work today you two would be at home right now, and you wouldn’t be hurt.

“I went to the shops, figured I’d cook us something special, I knew today would be hard so I wanted you to come home to something nice”

Robby looks at you in adoration. Jesus. He doesn’t deserve you.

“Has it been hard?”

Robby looks down at the floor. He doesn’t need to think about it, today’s been awful. He’s lost too many people, he almost lost Jake, and for gods sake he almost lost you.

No words come out his mouth, he just simply nods and looks up.

You look to him in worry, he’s done with your stitching, so you move your hands and invite him into your arms.

He smiles slightly, he doesn’t want to hurt your shoulder so he walks around to the other side of the bed, gets in it and lies his head on your chest. You carefully wrap your arms around him, your hand going through his hair.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask him

He shakes his head, “not now. Maybe later”

You bring your lips to his hair. “Okay”. You hold him tighter, not wanting to let go. Robby knows he has to be back out there, but a few minutes won’t hurt anyone.

He can’t think of a single moment today where he got the chance to just take a minute. To try and move on from the lives he hasn’t been able to save. Finally, in this moment he can, and with you it makes it significantly better.

~~~~

[sports-on-sundays]

Hello hello, I am back with another request! It's with Oscar again but friends to lovers. Hear me out, the most cliche thing ever. Oscar loves her, she loves him but both too dense to realise it. They are out and about and another dude corners her and tries to make out with her, Oscar saves the day (make him protective and violent pls, make him punch the guy (side note: I would pay money to see Oscar actually punch someone, don't ask me why idk🙈)). So then he comforts her, takes her home and she asks him to stay. I will leave the rest of the convo to you🤗. Let there be a first kiss and cuddle I beg I am the biggest sucker for those bcs Oscar seems like the best guy to have your firsts with.

Holy hell that's a long ass request haha. Thank you for reading all that🤣 have fun with it and feel free to change things up a little bit if you want to!

be / OP81

Summary: Oscar x female!best childhood friend!Australian!reader - You and Oscar are finally forced to realize your feelings for each other.

Warnings: panicking, someone forcing himself onto another person, blood, crying, i did change up the request a little bit 🤏, feeling sick

Requested: Yes! And don't worry about the long request, I really liked it, and thanks so much for requesting! Long requests are better sometimes anyway.

Author's Note: Guys I'm starting to think I seriously need my very own Oscar Piastri....

"It wasn't even that funny-"

"It wasn't even that funny!"

Both you and Oscar look up to who it was mockingly imitating Oscar's friendly teasing, and your eyes set themselves upon Lando Norris, smirking obnoxiously.

"What's your problem?" you demand, crossing your arms, most of the laughter from Oscar's joke that he made fives minutes ago (yes, you were still laughing your head off at it) gone.

"What do you mean? I'm just kidding. It's just funny how your boyfriend can make the most dumb joke, and send you both into a ten minute laughing fit-"

"Boyfriend?" you and Oscar seem to ask incredulously in sink.

The smile falls off of Lando's face this time, and is replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. "Waaaait... So you're trying to tell me you guys aren't dating?"

Oscar blinks a few times in confusion. "Y/n and I are just friends. We always have been."

"Yeah," you add quickly, nodding. "I don't know why everyone thinks differently."

Lando's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Maybe because you guys act like you're mad in love...? Like, all the time? Or maybe the fact that you come to every single one of our races? Or maybe it's the way you look at each other with heart eyes, like the other one is the only one in the room? I mean, I don't know. It could be the way you're always giggling and talking and yapping to each other... But, oh, what do I and everybody else know?"

"Good question," Oscar deadpans. "What do you know?"

Lando shrugs, rollings his eyes, and struts away. As soon as he's gone, Oscar turns back to you with a little shrug and says, "Sorry about that. I guess nobody gets that two people can love each other as friends without feeling romantic feelings..."

You nod, shrugging. It makes sense to you, simply because that's how it's always been with you and Oscar, forever. The two of you practically slept in the same crib (not literally!). You always just assumed he's like a brother or something, and it doesn't pay to consider anything else. So you haven't. Too risky, and besides- that's not worth it to waste your time thinking about. You like things just the way they are, no need to change them.

"-Y/n?"

"Hm?!" you look up, snapping out of your pondering.

Oscar smiles at you, his brown eyes soft, like they always are when he looks at you. You smile back, eyes equally as warm as he says, "Did you hear me?" in amusement.

You chuckle, "No, sorry."

He nods, giving your shoulder a little pat as he stands up. "I've got to go now get ready for the race. First of the season. Wish me luck!"

"Luck isn't needed," you say with a little grin. "You've got enough skill alone to win it."

He grins. "I guess. But luck never hurts, does it?"

"Not at all." You stand up with him and give him a quick half-hug, saying gentler, "Drive safe, and bring it home. I'll be cheering you on."

"Like always?"

"Like always."

"Hey, Y/n?"

You look up from your phone, shutting it off. You're sitting alone, long after the 2025 season opening race, the Australian Grand Prix, has ended. You haven't seen Oscar since the race ended, and have just been sitting around, not wanting to go home until you have a chance to talk with him. And there he is, standing there, back in his regular clothes: a black sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers, looking thoroughly sleepy.

You immediately stand up, smiling, saying simply, "It was a great drive."

"Well, I-"

"Hush. You scored points after what happened, and that's enough, for goodness' sake."

He smiles softly, and though his eyes say a lot more, he just nods and says simply, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. As always."

You nod promptly and say teasingly, "I know!"

He just rolls his eyes and says, already in a better mood just by talking to you, "Mum wanted you over tonight for dinner."

You grin, "She did, did she?"

"You know she always does, whenever I'm around, want me to bring you over. She adores you."

"She's the sweetest," you chuckle. "Well, I wouldn't mind one of your mum's home cooked meals."

Oscar nods, grabbing his coat, and saying, "I agree; that would hit the spot right now. C'mon."

You two make it to the car and get in, before you start heading to Oscar's mother's home. The car ride is mostly silent, but neither of you really mind. It's a comfortable, good kind of silence.

Towards the end of it, though, you ask simply, "So, that's the end of the first race week of the season. How're you feeling?"

Oscar shrugs, thinking for a few moments, before saying, "Hmm... I guess I'd have to say tired, but very hopeful."

You smile. "Good. You just need your beauty rest, huh?"

He glances at you with a cute little smile. "Right."

Dinner is nice. Warm, and reminds you of home, and your childhood, and everything good. And it's perfect for a rainy day like today.

Once he's finished eating, though, Oscar stands up, stretching, from the table, and says, "Well, I should be off to bed..."

"Oh, Oscar, you will give poor Y/n a ride home won't you?" Oscar's mother asks.

He looks over at you with a little smile and nods, saying, "Oh, right, of course."

You walk to the door together, but before Oscar opens the front door to leave, you gently grab his arm and say simply, "Osc."

He looks up from unlocking the door, meeting your eyes. "Hm?" he asks gently.

"You don't need to drive me home. I could get a cab or take the bus or whatever. It's all good. You've had a crazy week, as it is, much crazier than mine-"

"I mean, I was thinking maybe it'd be fine if I didn't drive you home, too, but you don't have to get a cab. I'm sure if I asked, my mum would be fine with you just staying the night or something."

You blink in surprise, but smile at the suggestion. "Oh. Well, I'd hate to bud in-"

He smiles. "You're family, Y/n. Don't worry." He takes your hand, tugging you back towards the dining room, calling, "Mum! Would it be fine if Y/n just stayed the night? We've both had a long day!"

"Oh, of course, honey! Tell her she can make herself just all nice and comfy and at home! Y/n's such a sweetheart, anyways. She's always welcome!"

Oscar smiles, looking at you. "You heard that, right?"

You smile back up at him with a little laugh. "Yeah, I heard that."

He nods, saying, "C'mon, let's go to my room."

The two of you head there, both of you knowing the way to Oscar's childhood bedroom from all the years you used to spend in there together. When you walk in, seeing all the dressers in the same place they always were, and all Oscar's old decorations from his karting days, memories seem to flood back, just like that, and both you and Oscar feel it. You crawl onto his bed, just like you always used to do, flopping down against his pillows, making yourself at home.

Oscar smiles and crawls in next to you. Just like he always used to do, too. "Last time we were both here was..."

"...right after you joined McLaren, right?" you smile at the memory.

"I guess so." He smiles down at you.

"I remember distinctly, one time, you had been gone so, so long, and I asked your mum if I could surprise you when you got home..."

Oscar starts laughing, clearly remembering it to. "Ohhh yeah. I threw open the bedroom door and flopped on my bed, even though you were on it. By the time I saw you and yelped, it was too late."

"Yeah, and I wrapped my arms around you and started tickling you," you say giggling.

He rolls his eyes, grinning. "I remember. By the end of it, I was gasping and near tears. God, Y/n, you know I was tired."

"I know. But I made you laugh and smile, didn't I? And I made you feel better, didn't I?"

"I mean, I was just happy to see you," he says, his gaze comfortably resting on yours.

"I was happy to see you. Do you know how much I missed you those months?"

"You miss me if you don't see me for a week, Y/n, still."

"Why do you think I come to every race that I can?"

"Because I pay for you to?"

You roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms, "I mean, yeah, but that's not the sentiment I was going for!"

He laughs, giving your shoulder a little playful tap. "I know, I know."

You sigh deeply, the sweet silence settling between the two of your for a little while, before murmuring, "And I hope you remember after that tickle attack, when your face was red and you were nearly crying from laughing, I gave you the biggest hug of all time..."

Oscar's face warms at that as he leans a bit closer to you. "Yeah... Yeah, I remember. You wanna know why that moment was special to me?"

"Why?"

"Because that was the moment I realized that there are some people in my life that never truly will leave me. Even if I leave them. And you're one of the best of them. That was when I learned what family is."

You nod slowly, thinking about that for a few moments, before saying, "That's... so sweet. I like it."

Oscar smiles. "Me, too. I like it too. I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you."

"And I so lucky to have a best friend like you."

Oscar smiles at that, nodding, satisfied, before letting out a big yawn, reminding you if a sleepy cat, before folding his hands up into fists and rubbing his watery eyes.

And, as if it's contagious, you let your own yawn, a few moments later.

Oscar smiles, this time more sleepily at you, before slipping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you a little closer to himself. You flop your head to lean against his shoulder, and murmur, "Time for us both to get the much-needed rest our bodies are begging us for?"

"Mmm-hm. Yeah. Whatever you said," Oscar murmurs as he drifts off, the hint of a smile still lingering on his mostly relaxed face.

And you both drift off, surrounded by that perfect warmth and tranquility that feels just like home.

A little under a week later, you're sleeping against Oscar in a very similar position, feeling like you're just as at home in China than you are in Australia, simply because of the person you're resting against, when you're awakened by the painful claims, "I ship it, the mechanics ship it, the other teams' drivers ship it, the fans ship it. My God, even my mum ships it! Literally everyone can see you're mad in love except you and her!"

You stretch, your eyes fluttering open, and murmur before you're even sure it's Lando's unwanted yapping torturing your ears, "Landooo shut uppp..."

Oscar gives your shoulder a squeeze, groaning to Lando in his perfectly alert awake state (contrary to yours), "Look at that, Lando, you made her wake up!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you'd hate for her to stop sleeping against y-"

"Lando, stop, it's not like that."

"How come every time a girl and a guy are friends, everyone ships them? I think that's society's problem," you comment as you rub your tired eyes.

Lando snorts, saying, "It's not every time. You guys are just obvious. And oblivious. You just need to admit it to each other."

"There's nothing to admit to each other, Lando," Oscar comments as he watches you slowly lean off of him, slipping his arm off your shoulders.

"Yeah, we're, like, brother and sister."

"Well, I wouldn't say that-" Oscar begins quickly.

"I mean, yeah, like-"

"We're more like just really close friends," Oscar finishes confidently.

"Yes, that's true, I agree," you say quickly, looking up at him. "We're family, but not brother and sister."

"Ah, so you're family, but it's not like siblings. What else could you be other than mad in love but just too dense to realize it?" Lando asks.

You just glare, crossing your arms, and Oscar comments, "I don't know, but it's not like that."

"Maybe it's just not like that simply because you both refuse to admit what you really want."

"Lando, I don't need you of all people being my psychologist. Could you just leave it?" you comment, feeling Oscar's eyes watching you.

Lando sighs (overdramatically), shrugs, and says, "Suit yourself. I'm just saying, you guys have got to get together soon, or else you'll drive yourselves and everyone else insane. We can all tell you guys just need to kiss already." And with that, he once again struts away.

As soon as he's gone, you whine, leaning your head into Oscar's shoulder, "I hate Lando!"

"Don't say that. He's just kidding," Oscar says gently.

You sigh. "I know... it's just..."

"Hm?" Oscar prompts gently.

"I don't want people thinking something that's not true."

"Who cares what they think? We both know how we feel about each other, and that's all that matters." But do we? Oscar's brain echoes.

"Yeah, you're right," you murmur, nodding, comforted by his words, not even picking up the way he stares forward, eyebrows knitted together, deep in thought.

You've heard what you think you want to hear, and that's all that matters to you.

The moment you see Oscar after his podium, after he stood on the first step, winning such a solid race as that, you run into his arms, causing him to laugh as he hugs you back, saying, "Hey, Y/n."

"I'm so proud of you!" you say excitedly. "Amazing drive- amazing!"

"Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. I'm so happy you were here to cheer me on."

You grin up at him. "Me, too, Oscar. Me too."

He celebrated with his team after the race, you staying in your hotel, since Oscar promised you he'd like to bring you home with him to Monaco, and have a more low key celebration, without as many people. Besides, you'd like it that way better anyway. And this way, you can get some extra sleep and try to avoid some of the jet lag from the long flight to Monaco.

Now you stand in Oscar's bathroom back in Monaco, gazing at yourself in the mirror in your white crop top and silver skirt, knowing that when you step out of the bathroom, all you need is for Oscar to tell you it looks nice, and then all your worries will vanish.

And once you do, of course, he stands up from the living couch and says, "You look really pretty. Ready to go?"

You smile softly, sighing in relief, and nod. "Yes. I'm ready to go celebrate with the winner of the 2025 Chinese Grand Prix." You laugh a bit, and add as you head out to the car, "Oscar, you know I'm so incredibly proud of you."

He grins. "I know, I know." You know he loves your lavishing, even if he wouldn't admit it. He's never gotten enough of it; you're one of the people that appreciate him the most, you think, at least. You appreciate him a whole lot, anyways.

Soon you get to your destination, and the night starts off really fun, you and Oscar just sticking with each other, laughing, singing, drinking, and dancing. But after too long, the air becomes stale, the noise becomes too loud, and the drinks turn bitter. You're tired, and Oscar's off somewhere, swept away with his other friends. You sigh deeply, leaning against the wall, running a hand through your hair.

It's then that you feel a hand on your shoulder, and it makes you flinch. It's unfamiliar.

It's not Oscar's hand.

You look up to see a man around your age with tangled overgrown curly brown hair and dark, cold eyes. He's wearing a gold chain around his neck and a football jersey. It's then that he shows you his unflattering smirk and says in a thick French accent, "I'm Jordan."

You just kind of nod, showing a fake smile and crossing your arms, not really in the mood for any antics with any strange guys.

His eyebrows raise as he says, "Do you have a name, or am I going to have to give you one?"

Your lip immediately curls up as you look at him from the corner of your eye, still not tilting your face directly towards him. "You're not smooth. My name is Y/n."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl. A sassy girl, too, at that. I like that."

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes in utter annoyance at this guy 'Jordan.' "Good for you..." you murmur, trying to send him the message that you really don't want to talk with him.

Jordan just hums and steps closer to you. You glance up at him for the first time, really, feeling a bit sick from how close he is to you. You murmur awkwardly, "Could you please step away?"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm enjoying your reaction too much."

"Please, stop."

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You swallow deeply.

"I really like your skirt..." he purrs, leaning in closer to you, completely ignoring your protests. His hand slips onto your thigh and grips it tightly.

"Stop... I don't care-"

"You don't, don't you? Well, what a shame... I reckon there's not much you can do about that..."

"St-"

He lips meet yours in a nasty, rough kiss. Your head pounds and spins as your knees begin to shake, panic of what's happening sinking in, your thoughts raging with anxious thoughts at the same time as your head being completely empty. You push at his chest, but he pushes his whole body up against yours, pinning you to the wall, further into a shadow.

You gasp, the panic sinking in deeper, and hardly register what happens next.

Oscar's familiar voice in all the chaos says in one of the angriest, coldest tones you've ever heard from his mouth, "Get your fucking nasty hands away from her."

Jordan tears his lips away from your mouth as Oscar grabs him, Jordan turning his head to look behind him, but before he has a chance to react, you watch as a fist comes flying across and hits him square across the face. He stumbles back and as blood begins gushing from his nose. For a moment, his eyes meet yours in shock, as if he expects you to help a dog like him, but it's then that you watch Oscar grab him by the collar and murmur in the darkest of tones to him, "I told you to get your nasty hands away from her, and you didn't. That's my girl, and no one dares to touch her like that. You better not think you can go on like this, and I hope this can be a reminder for you not to." And with that, Oscar throws another punch, hitting the guy in his eye. You slowly slip down the wall, still watching in shock as Oscar finishes him off by handing one more punch to him on his bloody jaw, before letting go of his collar, letting him fall to the floor, finishing with a yell, "The pain you're feeling right now is nothing compared to the pain you deserve!"

You watch as Jordan scampers up and, just like that, without even considering a fight, stumbles off, out of sight.

And then, everything hushed, Oscar turns, and his eyes meet yours. His hair is a little sweaty and messed up, falling over his forehead. For a moment, you see that remaining burning anger, but as soon as he takes you in, that vanishes, and is replace by the familiar warmth he seems to always look at you with.

And the moment your eyes lock, the tears start coming, and you break down.

Oscar is immediately by your side, pulling you into his arms, sitting on the floor next to you and holding you in his lap, gently stroking your hair. After a while, you hiccup, slowly leaning away, your body still shaking, and murmur, mopping up your eyes with your hands, "Os- Oscar... That was scary. I'm scared."

He gently takes your hand. "You don't have to be. I'm here. Are you ready to go home?"

You nod slowly, and Oscar helps you up, leading you out back to his car, his arm around your back protectively the entire time.

Once back in the car, as the events of what just happened replay through your head, you hiccup, more tears threatening to flow. Oscar gently takes your hand, murmuring in the dark of the parked car, "Tell me what I can do for you, and I'll do it. I hope you know I'll do anything for you to feel better."

You sigh shakily and just lean into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you for a few minutes, before you lean away again and murmur, "Let's just get home..."

Oscar nods. "Good idea." He turns the car on and begins driving, and as soon as he does holds his hand that he's not using to drive out to you. You put your hand in his, letting the warmth from it fill you and comfort you.

As he drives, you suddenly say in the empty silence, "'That's my girl.' That's what you said."

Oscar just nods a little. "I know. I did mean to say that, you know."

You swallow, thinking for a few moments, before murmuring the simple question, "Why?"

"Because you've always been mine and I've always been yours, haven't I?"

You swallow. "I don't know what that means."

"Forget what it means. You're the most important girl- the most important person- to me. You're my girl, and I'm not going to let anyone be messing with you."

That feels right to you, and good to you, to hear that. And you're glad, in a way, that he's so confidently figured that out. It frees you to say back, "Well, yeah, then... I guess that makes you my boy, then..."

Oscar smiles very softly, giving your hand a little squeeze as you arrive at his home. Once you're both inside, before you have a chance to start worrying, Oscar says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder, "I want you to be comfortable. What do you need? I could get you something to eat, run a bath for you, get a change of clothes, all three, whatever else you need-"

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it-"

"Hush," Oscar suddenly interrupts, shaking his head. He moves to stand right in front of you, before gazing down into your eyes, and saying in all sincerity, "Look, I want you to be honest. I want to take care of you if that's what you need. I want you to be comfortable."

You swallow, nodding a bit, before murmuring, "A bath and a change of clothes might be nice... I'm not hungry, though."

Oscar nods, putting his hand on your back, leading you to his room. He opens his closet and says, "You can wear whatever you can find. I'm going to go run that bath for you; I'll call you when it's ready. I'll get a towel for you in the bathroom, too."

You nod, find one of his bigger McLaren T-shirts and a pair of black sweatpants, and head to the bathroom just as Oscar is calling for you.

Oscar smiles at you gently when you walk in and say simply, "Anything else you need?"

You shake your head 'no,' saying, "Thank you."

He nods. "Of course. I'll just be in the living room, you can come there when you're done. Call me if you need anything. And take your time, too."

You smile weakly, nodding. "Alright. Thanks, Osc."

He nods, leaving you to have your bath. You peel off your clothes and sink into the water, feeling its warmth surround you like an embrace. You let out a long sigh of relief as the water touches your sore, tense muscles, soothing them. After the night you've had, it feels good to just be. To just experience something genuinely good and calming, knowing Oscar is just in the next room.

Oscar. The way he stood up for you, was so protective of you, and beyond that, has been taking such good care of you... You know Oscar a good man... He was always a really sweet boy, and he's grown up to be a really very upright and sweet man. It was crazy- crazy- to see him go off on that stranger, and beat him up the way he did.

But somehow, it felt right. It was just proving he's good. That he cares so much about and for you, he won't let anyone hurt you without knowing the consequences of it from him.

How much does he really care about me?

The question almost feels good to ask, because you have a feeling the answer is one you like.

And then the way he so confidently called you his girl.

'That's my girl.'

Just looking back on it, for some reason, it makes your heart skip a beat. It's that chest-tightening nervous affectionate feeling you get often when Oscar does or says little things. Although this time, it's not little, and every new thing he does seems to make your stomach flutter a little more. It's a familiar feeling that you're sure you've gotten hundreds of times before with Oscar, but for some reason, you're only realising it now. Why, you have no idea, and what the strange feelings could mean, you have even less of an idea.

Soon, you finish your bath, and after drying yourself put on Oscar soft, comfortable clothes, no matter how over sized they are on you. Besides, you don't care in the slightest about that as soon as you inhale his familiar, comforting scent when you put them on. You go to the living room and see Oscar laying on the couch on his phone, now in a T-shirt and sweatpants, just relaxing. As soon as you walk in, though, he looks up.

"Osc...? Do you have a brush I could use for my hair?"

He nods, hopping up from the couch, and says, "Yeah, I do. Wait here, I'll be right back. Just get yourself comfy."

He leaves, and you shrug, taking his advice, and curl up on the couch, waiting for him to come back. He takes longer than you expect him to, but soon enough, he walks back in and sits next to you, saying, "Why don't you just relax, and I can brush it for you?"

"Seriously? You don't have to," you say immediately, secretly wanting badly for him to brush your hair for you. You love the feeling of other people playing with your hair- and if it's Oscar, even better.

He smiles at you. "I know, but I want to." And with that, to both of your delight apparently, begins gently brushing through your hair. When he's done, he slowly start running his fingers through it, starting from the bottom and going up to the top. You sigh, leaning back into him, and Oscar just simply loves it. After a while he says, softly amused, "You just seem to melt when my hands are in your hair."

You shrug, smiling a little, and say, "What can I say? It feels really good."

He chuckles that low comforting chuckle that feels just like home. "I can tell." After a few more minutes he says, "I found a hair tie I think you must've left here at one point. Do want me to braid your hair or something?"

You smile, glancing back at him, and say, "You can do that? I don't know if I can trust you."

He just smiles back at you. "You should. I'm good at it. Remember, I grew up with three sisters."

You shrug again before saying, "Well, alright..."

He chuckles softly again, before he gently begins braiding your hair, his fingers gently weaving through your locks, slowly, until he finally finishes and ties it on the end. Once he's finished, you turn around to face him.

He smiles at you.

You smile back, taking his hands in both of yours.

"You're beautiful," he suddenly says, looking right into your eyes. "I don't think I've told you that enough. Because I think it all the time, whenever I look at you."

For some reason, your friend saying that makes you blush. There are a few moments of silence, before you look down at your joined hands and murmur, "Crazy that the hands that beat up that guy are the same hands that just gently braided my hair."

Oscar shrugs, smiling a little. "They have different uses in different moments. And I don't regret what I did for a moment, not any of it. I would do the exact same thing if I had to do it all again. In fact, just thinking about it makes me really angry. But what matters most is that you're okay."

You sigh slowly, nodding, your head a bit dizzy at the thought of it all. "I'm just so thankful for you, throughout it all. You, like, saved the day..." you chuckle wryly.

He shrugs, nodding a bit. "I guess." A little laugh.

More silence.

You stare down once more at your joined hands. "But Oscar..." you begin hesitantly.

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

"...I'm sorry."

"Y/n... for what? You did nothing wrong-!" Oscar begins somewhat incredulously.

"It's just... You were celebrating your win..."

"Oh, Y/n..." Oscar begins, his tone softening. "Come on, now. Look up at me, will you?"

You sigh, doing so.

"It's not your fault, what happened," Oscar says. "It's that idiot's fault, and we both know that. What happened happened, and there was no preventing it. And if you're worried about me, don't be. I had a perfectly good time celebrating in China with my team. This was more that I wanted to do something with you, for you. But look at this right now. Here we are, sitting together, anyway. Isn't that what matters the most anyway; isn't that the point? So why don't we just make the most of this moment, right now, hm?"

You sigh again, nodding slowly, before saying, you heart almost feeling like it's being squeezed, "Okay."

"Hey," Oscar murmurs, his hand touching the bottom of your chin. "You're looking down again. Talk to me." He gently raises your chin.

You swallow, and suddenly, words that you hardly knew you even thought start coming from your mouth, and only now as you hear them in your voice do they even begin to make sense: "I guess it's just that... You're so caring and gentle with me, and protective. And we like each other so much and get along so well and we've known each other for years and... I guess sometimes I wonder about us... You know, our relationship, like, what even is it? I mean, I think we'd both readily admit we most definitely love each other, but I guess... well, I don't know..."

Oscar nods slowly, before whispering, as if it's some long kept secret, "You guess you just wonder in what way we love each other?"

You swallow, nodding. "Well, yes, exactly. Because... well, I don't know."

"Can I tell you how I feel about you?"

You study his face for a few moments- his handsome face- and nod.

"I feel about you the most deep feeling I've ever known, deeper than I ever thought I could experience. The love I have for you is beyond anything I could describe in a physical sense- it's beyond a romantic love or and family love or the strongest kind of named love I could think of. All I know is that when I look at you, I see fulfillment, and happiness. I see everything I've ever needed, plus everything I've ever wanted. I see a priceless jewel- the sort of thing that anyone would honor and protect with their life. I see beauty herself, on the inside and out. I see my best friend, my favorite person, the one I would spend any and every moment with, if I could. I see comfort, I see love. I look at you and know the great lengths I would go for you. I know it's all so cliche, but it is a love beyond words. It is. I just..." he trails off, before leaning in and whispering, "Are you crying?"

You sniff, looking away, your heart pounding. "No..."

He smiles gently, his hand leaving yours to reach up and wipe a tear away off your cheek with his thumb, "Don't cry."

"That's just so... sweet... and... everything I exactly feel, too, put into words..."

"Y/n..." he hums gently with a little chuckle. "I don't want you to cry, though."

"Don't worry," you say with a little hiccupy laugh. "They're good tears."

He smiles a bit, grabbing your hand again and giving it a squeeze. "Okay."

You swallow, before daring to ask, "What would the difference be, if you were my boyfriend instead of my best friend?"

Oscar eyes seem to light slightly at the question, and he says simply, "Nothing at all, except for one thing: we would be able to express that deep love for each other in different ways."

You nod slowly, swallowing.

Oscar leans in closer to you. "How does that sound to you?"

"I... I think it could be just what I need."

Oscar smiles softly. "I mean, I feel like... it would be nice to not just have to use my words to tell you how much I love you. You know, to be able to kiss you, or something, instead."

You find yourself smile a little at the words, nodding as pinkness gets to your cheeks. "Yeah... that doesn't sound so bad."

Oscar smiles, just gazing into your eyes. "Yeah?"

"It's just that... with tonight, with what happened..."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning we had to do anything tonight- just to think about. You know...?"

You nod slowly, before muttering, "But maybe... Just maybe tonight is the night to do it." You pause, before continuing, "You know, with all that happened, maybe if we just decided... tonight, let's just take a little step... it would help me to leave that. You know, it wasn't my fault... and I have someone who really does love me."

Oscar smiles. "And I really do."

You smile back, looking back up into his sweet brown eyes.

He slips his hand out of yours and gently brings it to your cheek, muttering, "Well, is it okay if I kiss you? Just a little kiss?"

You smile wider, feeling your stomach flutter at the sincere question. Nodding, you reply, "Yes, I reckon that is okay."

Oscar nods, his thumb stroking your cheek a bit as he leans in, his other hand gently touching your waist. His hand on your cheek shifts to cup the side of your neck, and he whispers, his warm breath on your ear, "You still okay?"

You nod.

And with that, he leans in, and, pulling you closer to himself, kisses you in the most perfect way. His adoration and love for you flows through the kiss, while still keeping it short and gentle. When he leans away, he whispers, "How was that?" with a little adorable smile.

You just sigh shakily and murmur, "I think you should do it again."

And he does without a second more of hesitation. His lips meet yours as he pulls your body closer to himself, lost in the kiss, lost in his emotions. When he pulls away again, he's pulled you onto his lap, but neither of you seem to care, both too swept up in each other's gazing eyes.

"I didn't realize for how long I needed to do that..." he whispers gently.

You smile a little. "I didn't realize how long I needed that from you."

He smiles back. "We'll call that both of our first kisses, okay?"

You nod. "Does this mean I'm your girlfriend now?"

"I like the sound of that."

You smile and throw your arms around him in an embrace. He pulls you closer to him, leaning back so that you can lay your head on him, and rubs your back, whispering, "I love you so much, Y/n. So, so much. To the moon and the stars and all the way back."

You smile up at him. "I don't know about the moon and the stars for me Oscar, but I'll tell you this: I love you enough to want to spend my life with you. I love you enough to want to grow old with you."

At those words, Oscar's arms tighten around you, and he chuckles, "See how sappy we suddenly get as soon as we decide to just give it up and kiss? My God."

You grin into his chest. "Yeahhh... But I don't mind it."

"Oh, trust me, I don't either." He shifts, moving you with him, making you both comfortable, so that you're laying together, cuddling.

"I really like this."

He hums. "Me too."

"You know we'll never hear the end of it from Lando if he finds out."

You feel the vibration of his laugh in his chest. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just relax. I just want to be. Be with you."

"I think that sounds like exactly what I was made for. To be with you."

He smiles, and you shut your eyes, content to listen to his heartbeat and just be.

Just be with him.

[formulaonecrumbs]

Hi :) I don’t know if this is the kind of thing you usually write, but could you make an angst where Lando has a secret girlfriend!reader and doesn’t plan on going public with her for now, but he’s always seen with another girl (I’m inspired by Magui, but you can change the name if you want) and everyone online thinks they’re dating. Reader starts feeling uncomfortable with it, but he keeps saying there’s nothing between them and that the reader is the only one in his life even though he keeps going out with the other girl while hiding the reader?

almost (never) yours

Lando Norris x secret girlfriend!reader

summary: lando has a secret girlfriend but won’t go public with her. meanwhile, he’s constantly seen with a model, amelie, and the internet thinks they’re dating.

warnings: pure angst. dickhead lando. implied cheating. implied breakup. emotional neglect. no comfort. no fluff.

A/N: thank u for the request, anon :)!!! as much as i feel i suck at writing angst, i love it 🤗🤗 i need a good cry, i’ll open this app and find the saddest, most angstiest fucking fic ever. anyways, i hope this is what u wanted, i tried. i got a little into (i didn’t even plan on making it pure angst) but i just kept writing and writing. also yes, i did feel a lil weird using Magui’s name cause idk it feels like im using that situation for my own personal gain (idk if that makes sense, i just wanna respect lando 😭) but i have no problem using papp pics of them from pinterest OOP also guys pls send in requests u have for ANY driver. cause i’m so in writers block when it comes to new ideas. need something to stimulate my brain. sorry for the ridiculously long note IM DONE NOW, ENJOY!! love u ❤️❤️

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

lando always said he wasn’t ready.

“just for now,” he whispered into your hair at 3 a.m., his voice thick with sleep, arms wrapped around you under hotel sheets that still smelled like his cologne. “i like having something that’s only mine.”

you didn’t question it back then. it felt intimate. sacred. like a shared secret too delicate for the world to touch. like the love between you existed in its own little universe where no one could ruin it.

but lately, it didn’t feel romantic anymore. it felt like erasure.

because while you were a secret, she was everywhere.

amelie.

you knew her name before he ever said it. the internet made sure of that. tagged in every photo. every story. always beside him. model-perfect with eyes that sparkled and smiles that made people fall in love instantly. the kind of girl people expected to see with someone like him.

and everyone online loved them together.

“look at them. literal endgame.”

“can she just soft-launch him already?”

“i didn’t know i needed lando and amelie until now.”

you read the comments. not just once, but over and over, even though every time felt like a dagger.

you tried to brush it off. at first.

“she’s just part of the group,” lando said the first time you brought her up, his hand resting lazily on your thigh as he scrolled through tiktoks beside you. “she’s around a lot, yeah, but it’s nothing like that.”

you wanted to believe him.

but he didn’t post you. never even hinted you existed. and meanwhile, she was in frame in every group picture. she was on his story at dinners. at parties. in the background laughing during his livestreams. and his friends — max, oscar, carlos — they all seemed to know her. joke with her. tag her.

you felt like a shadow. a hidden chapter in his life no one else was allowed to read.

“i just don’t want people in our business,” he said one night as you lay beside him, both of you staring at the ceiling in silence. “they’ll twist it. they’ll ruin us.”

but it was already being ruined. and not by strangers online.

by him.

because it was always her.

every day, another comment. another rumor. another clip from a fan account showing her brushing his arm, whispering something that made him laugh like she was the only one in the room. and he never corrected it. never once said, “no, i’m with someone.”

you started to wonder if he was embarrassed of you. or if you were just something to come back to when he was done being adored by the rest of the world.

then came the photo.

someone had snapped it at a bar — blurry and dimly lit but clear enough. lando with his arm around amelie’s waist. her head tilted toward his. close. too close. her smile soft. his eyes focused only on her.

and the caption?

“if this isn’t confirmation, idk what is.”

your heart stopped. your phone slipped from your hands and hit the bed with a soft thud. you just stared at the screen, waiting for him to post something. say something. tell people it wasn’t what it looked like.

but nothing came.

just silence.

for two days.

you didn’t text him. didn’t answer when he called. you couldn’t. you didn’t even know what you’d say.

when he finally messaged you — “are you okay?” — it felt so small. so weak. like he was trying to put a band-aid on a bullet wound.

he called after. three times. you picked up on the fourth.

“hey,” he said, and his voice was gentle, like he already knew he’d fucked up.

you didn’t say anything. you just listened to the static on the line, and your own heartbeat in your ears.

“you saw the picture,” he said.

you could hear him shifting. maybe pacing.

“i wasn’t kissing her. i was just—fuck—it was loud. i had to lean in.”

you stayed quiet.

“it didn’t mean anything.”

you finally spoke, voice flat. “your arm was around her.”

he sighed. “i know how it looks. but it wasn’t like that.”

“wasn’t it?”

“come on, you know me.”

“do i?”

your voice cracked, and you hated how fragile it sounded.

because god, you did know him. or at least you thought you did. the version of him who held your hand under the covers, who kissed your forehead when you fell asleep on long flights, who sent you stupid memes at 2 a.m. when he couldn’t sleep. you loved that version of him.

but the version the world saw? the one who laughed and smiled and stood beside a girl who wasn’t you?

you didn’t know him at all.

“i love you,” he said. quiet. urgent. “you’re the only one i care about.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“then why does it feel like i’m the one you’re hiding?”

he didn’t answer.

“everyone thinks you’re with her,” you whispered. “and you let them.”

“because it’s easier!” he snapped suddenly. and then, softer: “i just want to protect this. protect us. once people know, they’ll make it ugly. they’ll pick it apart.”

you laughed, hollow. “they already have. and you stood there and let them.”

he was breathing heavily now, like he wanted to say more but didn’t know how.

“you don’t protect someone by pretending they don’t exist,” you said. “you don’t love someone in the dark.”

there was a beat. then another.

“i’m sorry,” he said finally.

but it was too late.

sorry didn’t change the fact that you were a secret.

sorry didn’t take her out of the photo. or erase the comments. or make your heart stop breaking every time someone called them “perfect.”

sorry didn’t mean anything anymore.

so you hung up.

and this time, he didn’t call back.

not that night. not the next day. not even when fans started speculating that he and amelie were actually together now.

you waited. you told yourself he just needed time. that he’d show up at your door like he always did, with soft eyes and quiet apologies.

but days turned into weeks. and the silence stretched so long it stopped hurting and started feeling normal.

you never got closure. no goodbye. no explanation.

just a soft fade-out — like you were never part of the story at all.

and when he finally did go public… it wasn’t with you.

it was probably never going to be with you.

THE END :>

part two.

[cheonstapes]

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘SUGAR BABY CHRONICLES’ ヽ(´o｀；

･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡. miguel o’hara x fem!reader .｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･

SMUT

REQUEST from my lovely @miguelzslvtz; So I was thinking of an older!Sugar daddy Miguel x reader. The reader is working at small country club and Miguel noticed her. She’s serving him drinks, and taking care of him. He tells her she’s too good to be working there and introduced the idea of being her sugar daddy (basically some arm candy). He invites her over to his mansion for a party and she’s dressed up for him🫶🏻 all night she’s being looked at by other men and woman, he’s being very protective of her. He loves on her all night and makes sure she’s taken care of💗💗spoiled✨

cw; older!miguel, slight age gap (reader is in early 20s, miguel is in early 30s), cumming inside, slight breeding(not really, i just have a problem), sugardaddy!miguel, readers a little bit of a tsundere kinda, miguel’s really in love, cunnilings, shower sex, hair pulling, NAWT PROOFREAD!!

4k+ words (longest fic omg!!)

@cheonstapes; hi again…🤗 these hiatuses are killing me. i’ve been absolutely swamped and i lost so much motivation to write but im glad to say i think i’ve found my footing. i found myself again and i’ll work on balancing everything from now on! i apologise for the mammoth amount of time it took me to do this (this is what i get for working chronologically) and i have not forgotten about your requests if you sent one! pyramids and project ex will still be coming but i want to make sure requests are out of the way as they’ve been there for months and it’s not fair for the lovely people who’ve waited so long. thanks again! i love you all🩷

you loved your job, you really did.

not many people can say that genuinely, but when you’re getting the tips you’re getting, seeing the men you’re seeing, you definitely don’t wanna leave anytime soon. working at such an elite club meant you were among the rich of the rich — the big shots of the city that wouldn’t be caught anywhere else.

at the very least, the uniform was modest enough — obviously though, there would always be a few buttons left undone on your shirt, your skirt pulled up just that little bit higher. that window of flesh, no matter how small, was a guaranteed extra thousand in your pocket by the end of the night — and that wasn’t even counting him.

mr. o’hara. that’s all you knew him by. the man was overtly secretive, often arriving alone or occasionally with a very small group of associates. he was by far your biggest tipper. at times, you wondered if he owned the club due to the pure influence he has on your boss — somehow, much to your excitement, convincing him to bump your pay-check up by a lofty sum. the amount of money you make could send you into an early retirement, but of course you wouldn’t do that. it meant you wouldn’t get to learn more about him, and you needed to learn more about him.

summer was always the busiest, the great weather meaning there was more members than usual coming out to play. although, running around and serving for 9 hours a day was extremely tiring — gruelling even. there was sweat dripping down your face, your black dress feeling like a leather coat with the way it clung to you like second skin.

one last drink. you had one last drink to serve and then you could go on your break. double checking the table number, your eyes widened slightly as you saw him. mr. o’hara was not a small man by any means — the bulging muscles tucked away under his tight dress shirt, shoulders almost akin in length with the table. to put it simply, he was the epitome of sexy. you were barely at his table and you could smell him already, the masculine musk of his oud creating a musky, rose scented bubble that ensnared all your senses.

“‘s that for me, sweetheart?”

yes, yes it was. but he really wanted to hear you say it. your voice was such a sweet caress to his ear — he could guarantee an angel got its wings every time you spoke. miguel usually prides himself on being in control of his emotions, his body — but having a pretty, little thing like you just within his grasp was the ultimate challenge of restraint.

the man felt absolutely helpless, his heart pounding in his chest like a hormonal teenage boy when you placed the drink in front of him. “you know it, mr. o’hara — you order the same thing everyday.” fuck. the sip he was having was definitely becoming more than a sip the longer he held the cup to his mouth — chub twitching against the fabric of his slacks.

you were just the sweetest little thing — much more enthusiastic than the other girls that worked there. he might be just imagining it too, but he can feel deep in his heart that you dress up just for him. miguel knows you want him, and he’s more than happy to give himself to you.

“you know me better than i know myself, dulzura. almost like you’re keeping tabs on me, hm?”

“i mean, yeah, i kinda am. it’s my job, mr. o’hara. you’re one of our most frequent regulars, it’d be crazy if i couldn’t tell you your order ‘fore you give it to me.”

oh…yeah.

in miguel’s defence, it’s been a while….a long while since he last flirted — and having an 8-year-old daughter who’s judging your every move means there’s not a lot of time to work on your game. but he’d be damned if he lost an angel like you, he will be yours. plus, gabi does need a woman like you in her life too.

“do you enjoy it, though? your job, I mean — not keeping tabs on me.”

“you probably won’t believe this, but i actually do. the pay’s good, at least, and i can afford to pay my bills, uni, and still have fun. i’m kinda lucky, i guess.”

“you wouldn’t have to worry about that with me, nena.”

miguel knew he was probably breaking some sorta rule, flirting with staff or whatever — but god you were worth it. if being able to take you home meant that he would never set foot in the club again, then so be it.

“sorry, what was that, sir?”

“…quit your job — not in a ‘you’re bad at your job way’ — i’ll take care of you. i can give you everything, anything you want.”

you couldn’t say you were surprised, especially with the nature of your job — old men say stuff like this to you all the time. but, miguel wasn’t any old man. as much as you loved your job, had a stable income and good connections — the thought of quitting and running away with a man like him? fuck, it was so tempting.

“alright then. i hope you live up to those words, mr. o’hara.”

———————————————————————————

mr o’hara (sugardaddy?)

I’m throwing an event at work tonight, I want you to be there.

sent 16:42

(y.n)

hi, mr o’hara. i’d love to but i finish work at 7,i don’t know if i’ll be able to make it. and i don’t really have anything to wear :(

sent 16:50

mr. o’hara (sugardaddy?)

Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. I’ve already got you off work for the rest of the week, and I’ve got you something nice to wear.

sent 16:50

(y.n)

oh, really? well, i guess i’ll see you there then! ;)

sent 16:56

mr. sugardaddy

Mmhm, I can’t wait to see you, babe. And call me miguel.

sent 16:56

———————————————————————————

miguel had promptly sent his driver to pick you up in a sleek black sports car, much to the dismay of your co-workers. a beautifully wrapped box was placed on the seat beside you, a bouquet of orchids and a small note that read ‘for you, las flores más bonitas para la chica más guapa - m’

it was hard to not feel a tinge if heat was rising in your face, for someone whom you’re only just getting to know to be so utterly romantic — it was a new experience! relationships had never been something you were particularly interested in, but there was no denying the allure that someone like miguel held and only time could tell how it would all play out.

arriving at his mansion, which was nothing short of jaw dropping — the halls were mostly desolate aside from the quite bustle of the staff that were preparing for tonight’s ball. an elderly woman escorts you upstairs to the master bedroom, your eyes roaming the area as you take in the grandeur of the building — aged walls paired with a modern nueva york touch.

“where’s mr. o— miguel?” the woman turns to you, an indecipherable smile on her lips.

“mr. o’hara is just getting prepared for the ball. don’t fret over him, he’ll join you shortly.” well, it was a bit rude to invite someone over and not be there to greet them but ok! “ah, i forgot to mention,” she opens the door, stepping aside to let you in. “i left you a little something on the dresser. i believe you both’ll be needing it.” the woman winks, silently closing the door behind her — leaving you alone in the large room.

god, even the room smelt like him. a musky wood and cinnamon smell, with the faintest hint of vanilla from the candle burning by the window sill. it wasn’t everyday you were in the presence of such luxury, especially old money luxury. your eyes flitted over to the dresser the woman was referring to, that sneaky grandma.

a box of xl condoms, birth control, towels, all wrapped in a cute gift basket. “seriously? who does she think i am? i’m not fucking on the first date.” wait— was this a date? it definitely felt like one, but it was hard to be 100% sure. this was too much to deal with now, all that was left to worry about was the ball and getting ready.

on the bed behind you lay a beautifully wrapped box, with a red ribbon to top it off. it fell gracefully onto the bedsheets as you unwrapped it, lifting the lid to reveal the shimmering red dress underneath. a sleeveless satin dress, fabric lined with the finest crystals, a slit raising mid thigh, lined a sheer lace. it was the definition of classy, with a hint of seduction.

putting it on felt like a crime, something so beautifully should be preserved and put into a museum. it took all of your willpower to not tuck the dress away somewhere safe and just go and get one of your own — but alas, it was a gift, the least you could do is wear it. the craziest part was how perfect it fit. practically a glove, clinging onto every curve and crevice of your body — extenuating places you never even noticed before.

smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure it was as perfect as possible — fuck, you looked hot. the colour complimented your skin exquisitely, adding a soft glow to your complexion. in the time it took you to get ready, it seemed like the party was already amping up. you could see the surge of people from the window, flashing lights and an abundance of cars being handed to the concierges. you still had yet to see miguel and what better time to look for him than now?

there was a pair of red heels that matched the dress to a T, slipping them on and bouncing down the steps. the butterflies fluttered wildly in your tummy the nearer you got to the party, joining the line of people being checked in by security. though, from the corner of your eye, you catch sight of him. standing there in all his 6’ glory, curls lightly slicked back, wearing a tight button up shirt and those sexy slacks.

something about seeing miguel like this, so carefree and relaxed, set something off inside of you. even though you were supposed to be his guest, you did everything in your power to avoid his gaze — purely cause you don’t think you’d be able to maintain eye contact him for longer than a few minutes without jumping his bones. but of course, fate was destiny’s whore, and soon enough you were being escorted straight into the ballroom.

“were you avoiding me, cielo?”

a hand splayed across your waist, leading you deeper inside the hall as he whispered in your ear. it was obviously due to the fact that you probably couldn’t hear him all too well because to the loud music, but the way his hands caressed your sides, his lips brushing against the lobe of your ear — it felt all too intentional.

“no…i just didn’t want to cut in line. i figured i’d see you when i see you.”

“is that so?” he slid a champagne flute in your hands, grabbing one of his own as he tilted his head at you — a stray curl unfurling down his forehead. “you’re like an open book, cariño. you think i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head by now?”

“so you’ve been studying me, hm?” now it was your turn to raise a brow, tilting your head back as you took a long sip of your champagne. it wouldn’t be a huge surprise if he had been, it was kinda obvious from all the stares he’d give you and when he’d ‘enquire’ about you from your colleagues.

“mmm, studying’s a strong word. i was simply…observing you. can’t blame me for wanting to know someone as enchanting as you better.”

he had quite the mouth on him, didn’t he? you couldn’t stop the small smile that graces your lips, shaking your head in disbelief.

“you’re so stupid, miguel.”

“if falling for you is stupid, then i’m the dumbest of them all.”

it was so bad, so bad that it was actually good. and that comment shaped the rest of your night together. considering your new arrangement, he took the liberty of introducing you to his circle of friends and their wives — conveniently leaving out that he was your new sugar daddy, but that was a story for another day. miguel revelled in the looks they all gave you, seemingly forgetting they themselves had a date nestled on their arms. he really couldn’t have picked a better dress, but damn if it wasn’t killing him.

you really didn’t know how beautiful you were, and he so badly wanted to show you. the dim lighting was a blessing for the tent in his slacks, giving him a flimsy disguise for the arousal he felt at that moment. after more than a few drinks too, wandering hands and lingering words, it was becoming unbearable. however, scaring you off wasn’t on his bucket list tonight. he didn’t take this long fighting for your attention to loose you on the first date. he vowed to do everything at your pace, leaving it up to you to make the first move.

as the party wrapped up, and miguel said his goodbyes — you stood at the door, shivering from the cold air as it nipped against your bare arms. the fun you had was incomparable to any party you’ve ever been to, but you thought you may have overstayed your welcome. shakily tapping on your phone with freezing fingers, ordering an uber to pick you up —

“leaving already?”

“yeah, i had a lot of fun tonight, though.” it was a genuine smile, one that spoke a million words. “thanks for inviting me, miguel.”

for a man so big he sure did move so silently. he stood behind you, gently grasping your hand in his as she looked down on you. “when i invited you, i didn’t invite you as a mere guest — you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like.”

it didn’t even sound like he was simply offering, miguel was begging. you could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice — urging you to stay the night, stay with him.

“miguel, are you sure? i don’t even have anything to change—“

“i’ve already organised sleepwear for you, but you could wear something of mine if you’d like?”

that sly smirk slid its way onto his face once again, rolling your eyes as you walked past him — pulling out your phone to cancel the uber. “fine, i’ll stay. i might take you up on that offer too.”

lo and behold, an array of skincare and pyjamas were set out on his bed as you entered the master bedroom once again — and to top it off, gift bags filled with designer items that you’d never thought you’d ever own. “miguel…is this all for me?”

“unless i have another sugar baby, who else would it be for? ‘course it’s for you, darling — consider it a…’welcome’ gift.”

“more like my entire tuition fee, hell. you didn’t have to spend all this money on me, y’know?”

“cariño,” you could see miguel walking up to him from the mirror in front, his arm slipping round your waist to pull you into his back. “i spend my money how i want, and i want to spend it on you. so i don’t want to hear no more complaining from you, understand.” the small nod you gave earned a small grin from him, a hand smoothing up the curve of your back until it reached the shimmering zipper under your neck.

“you look like a goddess tonight, baby. so fucking beautiful…” his words were whispered softly into your neck, gentle breaths caressing your skin. as he spoke, the zipper slid lower and lower — until your dress was held together by the tips of his fingers. the cold metal of his rings brushed against your bare skin, the tips of his fingers dancing on the curve of your waist as he lets the fabric pool at your feet.

“m-miguel, i’m sweaty from all the dancing! at least let me wash up first, or something.” if you weren’t sweating much then, you were definitely sweating buckets now. the heat radiating from you mixed with the heat simmering between the two of you made for a heady cocktail of unspoken desire — and you silently cursing yourself for almost breaking the number one rule: ‘don’t fuck on the first date.’

“we can use my shower then, it’s large enough for the both of us.” we? oh, you’re definitely breaking that rule now. “i didn’t say this was gonna be a joint effort, did i? i can wash myself, miguel.” you weren’t even convincing yourself with the breathy way you spoke, the way he was caressing you, the pure adoration in his voice was something you haven’t felt before. plus, this is the guy who’s willingly paying you to simply be around him — it’s a win-win situation.

“i know you can, baby —“ letting out a deep chuckle, miguel intertwined your hands and lead you towards the bathroom — “but it’s more fun with two, no?” the gentle pitter-patter of the waterfall shower reverberated through the silence of the room, the sound of fabric rustling followed shortly after. glancing down at your feet, miguel’s clothing was promptly discarded — your widened eyes trailing up his hefty frame.

“fucking christ…”

the man in front of you was nothing short of absolutely beautiful. despite spending everyday surrounded by older men, you never found yourself truly attracted to them until now — or maybe it was simply just miguel himself. “i thought you wanted to take a shower, muñeca?” oh, yeah, the shower. before you could even finish your thought, miguel was already occupying half of the space in there, leaving a small pocket for you to slide into.

the expeditious beating of your heart was muffled by the steady stream of water, but it was more than clear to miguel what you were feeling in that moment. the moment was strangely intimate, and dare i say innocent, for the predicament you found yourself in. his hands gently roamed your skin, barely making contact with any sensitive areas aside from fleeting brushes. he made a point to use his hands instead of a rag, claiming he could ‘clean you better than a flimsy cloth’.

it was truly getting unbearable, utterly frustrating. your subconscious and ovaries were in an intense battle of wits, when a third party made itself known in the worst way possible. you really had forgotten that miguel was as naked as you were until you felt the base of his cock slide between your ass cheeks, chest flush against his back. the slightest hitch of your already shaky breath earned another rich laugh from within him, thick fingers playing with the skin of your tummy.

“you feeling cleaner or what? i’m more than happy to keep going if you are, baby.”

of course you wanted him to keep going! you were already as wet as is, in every way possible. “i..i think you might’ve missed a spot.” the hand on your tummy paused, his breath hitting your ear as he bent down slightly. “i did? i like to consider myself very thorough, cariño — enlighten me.” you did your best to turn with the small space you had, looking up at him with a more confident expression than the one you wore previously.

“here.”

now it was miguel’s turn to be surprised, the tip of his finger brushing against your swollen clit before tapping against your slit. it had been so long since you had a real good fuck, and right now you were genuinely about to give this man some babies if he kept on smiling like that. “mm, looks like i did. forgive me for being so careless. i’ll make sure she gets extra attention.” his words trailed off as he sunk to his knees, the gentle spray of water splattering against his face.

he tapped your ass, lifting you up with one hand as he pressed you against the cool glass, legs resting on his shoulders. his pretty lashes were dusted with droplets of water as he gazed at you from between your thighs, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin as he kneaded your skin gently. his thick tongue was enough to completely spread you open, eagerly collecting your creamy essence.

miguel was moaning like a pure slut, you would think he got more pleasure in eating you out than you did. his eyes were rolled back, hips absentmindedly bucking to the rhythm of the shower as he sucked on your clit. the position was not uncomfortable by any means, but the unadulterated pleasure you were feeling made it hard to stay upright — nails raking down the expensive marble tiles as you practically grasped for straws.

“grab my hair, darling. i don’t want you to fall.”

whilst his words were slightly muffled, the undeniable concern in his voice had you moaning embarrassingly loud. miguel was clearly strong enough to hold you up all alone, so you surrendered the grip you had on the wall to rake your trembling fingers through his hair — tugging on the curly strands.

“nngh..fuck..”

he fucking whimpered. miguel o’hara, the richest and most powerful man in this city, was shamelessly whimpering between your thighs. that was certainly the biggest ego boost ever, the fact that it’s your pussy that has this huge man so drunk. pushing out your hips, you practically smothered his face — riding him mid-air as you felt the delicious sensations bubbling up inside of your stomach. breathless chants of his name left your lips, panting softly as your head fell back against the panels.

“c-cumming! ugh— fuck, miguel!

the jerks of your body made miguel grip your ass tightly, licking his lips of your release as he shuffled upwards, grinning down at your disheveled form. “you’re breathtaking when you cum for me, beautiful. can’t believe you’re all mine.” he whispered against your lips, forehead to forehead as he kissed you for the first time. it felt like a million tiny fireworks going off inside of you, the previous tension in your body instantly melting away as you leaned into his touch — tongue’s pressing against each other as drooled slipped down your necks.

he kept his mouth latched onto yours as he gripped his leaking cock, dipping the pearly tip inside of your sensitive hole. his movements were unhurried, sloppily kissing you as he dipped in-and-out, in-and-out. it was a steady pace that you soon found yourself liking more than usual, a stark contrast to the inexperienced fucking’s you were getting before. “inside, please…i wanna feel you, all of you.”

you were too dangerous for this old man’s heart. having a pretty little thing like you beg for him to fuck you like you deserved, to mold that sweet cunt into the shape of his cock — it was all too tempting. he was more than willing to do anything his sweet baby asked him to, and he wasted no time in giving in to you. “shit, cielo, no one’s ever fucked you right, huh? she’s gripping onto me like a vice.”

he was right, in every sense of the word. you didn’t know how many partners he had before you, and really didn’t want to find out — but one thing was for sure, miguel knew exactly how to please you. your head fell against his chest, his hand lifting it up by your chin as he pumped into you. “tell me, dulzura, i’m the only one that’s made you feel like this? only man to fuck this perfect pussy right?”

he took the tiny nods and breathy whimpers as a yes, grinning like a madman as he revealed in the satisfaction of ruining you for anyone else — not like he was gonna let you go in the first place. his pace picked up vigorously, finding the perfect balance between pounding into your sore cunt and softly rutting against your ass. the skin where you both combined was tinged red, the on-going waterfall above unable to fully wash away the evidence of your cream on his pelvis.

“only you, miguel — no one…no one’s better than you. i’m yours, daddy.”

those words, hushed and warm, pushed his already inflated ego to the edge. his hips bucked widly, prodding at the spongy spot inside of you as she pressed his lips against yours once more. all sounds were trapped between your connected lips, muffling the choked squeal that left your lips and the guttural groan that left his as he came deep inside you. he did promise to clean you extra throughly, and what better way to do that than flushing out your canal with his cum!

he lazily rolled his hips against yours, ignoring the sticky liquid bubbling on the side of his spent cock. “did so well for me, my beautiful princess. i’m so proud of you.” the fluttering of your heart made you instinctively turn away, cheeks flaring with heat as you pouted — you really can’t believe you fucked on the first bloody date. your little tough act didn’t fool miguel, in fact it fuelled him even more. he continued to praise your very essence, worshiping the ground you walk on despite your protests — smiling softly as he sees your fierce resolve weaken. “there she is, you ready to let me love on you now?”

“yeah, yeah. but first, we need an actual shower. no fucking this time.”

“no promises.”

this was the last place you saw yourself in life, but maybe being in miguel’s arms were where you were supposed to be.

- thank you for waiting and make sure to watch ateez at coachella!!!!!

[mullermilkshake]

The missing mother

Part 18 <- Part 19 -> Part 20

Hae-in is missing. She's in the most unsuspecting place.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags. - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT Pregnant reader, emotional distress, restraints, needles, arguing (kinda), medical stuff, (TW) high risk pregnancy

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST CLOSED

I wanted to make this chapter longer, but I felt the end was a good cut off point and didn't want to put just some filler in that didn't help advance the plot, but I hope you still enjoy it. 🤗

So, Jong-in disrupted Jinwoo’s moment with you, because he couldn’t find his bit on the side?

Because that’s all Hae-in was to him, right? Now the man had another hunter pregnant, he’d probably toss her aside too. Hae-in most probably saw her worth and disappeared with her baby to get away from all the dramatic shit.

Just like now, with Jong-in on Jinwoo’s doorstep, worse for wear and looking dishevelled after some kind of all-nighter, but in truth, he looked hungover.

“You can’t find her?” You asked, your hand holding your belly for comfort.

Jinwoo wanted to kick himself, he hoped at least this time, you would actually listen to him and stay in the bedroom. Of course not. He adjusted the door to keep Beru hidden, casually leaning against the door with an invisible huff he forced himself to choke down.

“I went to see her this morning, to check on her. But she wasn’t there, she told the doctors that she was going out for an early walk this morning like she's been doing the entire pregnancy, but she hasn’t come back. I’ve been losing my mind trying to look for her, I didn’t know who else to turn to. I apologize for how late it is.”

You lost your baby mama and now decide to make it our problem? 

Jinwoo didn’t want you getting involved, not with Jong-in. Any time together was far too much in his eyes and a recipe for disaster.

“We’ll help you, right Jinwoo?” You watched him with cautious eyes, telling him a message with your expression.

Not asking. Telling.

“We’ll help, but you can stay at your place. I can use my shadows, so there’s no point in everyone going out at night.”

“You want me to just wait here?” Jong-in was ever the polite one, even if he was reacting to being turned away.

Jinwoo nodded nonchalantly. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I want you to do, there’s no point in getting worked up. I’ll find her.”

He would essentially still have to traipse out and look for her manually if Igris couldn't find her, he just didn’t want Jong-in sniffing about. The shadow he used initially was sitting nestled in Jong-in’s shadow, Not Hae-in’s.

You, however, must have caught on to that.

“Jong-in, can you wait outside for a moment?” You walked up and closed the door before he could answer, your brows together with a hidden scowl. “I know that you need to be close or something to put one of your shadows on people, just like you put Igris on me. What’s your deal? You’re coming off as really combative.”

He threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m not, I just don’t see the point in us all going out in the dark. Hae-in’s capable. We can’t treat her like she’s made of glass and fragile, neither of you are. So, I’ll go and look for her, I'll have my shadows patrolling the city, something will pop up eventually. It’s late and you’re exhausted.”

You yawned as he said that, but shook it off. “No, there’s something else. You always get tense around Jong-in and I just… I can’t tell what you’re thinking. Care to tell me why?”

What could he honestly tell you? That he was growing a type of hatred towards the man like a tumour, every second you were in his presence. Or that he'd thought of many ways to make him disappear or suffer just to put a smile on Jinwoo's face. Sometimes fantasising wasn't enough, and the only reason he hadn't done anything yet was because of you.

If you knew the sort of dark things he kept a lid on, you would leave him in a heart beat.

Yeah, none of those explanations were acceptable.

“Will you let me go do this if I don’t say anything?”

“No.”

Jinwoo whispered, forgetting that Beru still stood there, awaiting the drama so that he could finish his show. “Because he’s in love with you. You just never noticed.” 

“Me?!” You matched Jinwoo’s volume, but shouted in a hushed tone to scold him. “He’s not in love with me, are you for real right now?! There’s no evidence to substantiate that, there never was.” 

Were you for real?

"It’s there written on his face every time he looks at you, you just don’t see it. He was disappointed that he was never paired with you, he told us that he wanted that but settled for Hae-in.” 

Okay, Jong-in never said that, but the only people currently in the room that recalled the conversation that day was Jinwoo, so who was counting?

You wanted to speak and you even stuttered a little, your mouth moving and closing into utter speechlessness. The cogs were turning in your brain, realisation perhaps? If an opportunity presented itself, Jinwoo had to take it. To drive the wedge that had already grown distant between you and Jong-in further than ever. To sever it completely.

“I’m sorry I’m naturally defensive around someone who's in love with my girlfriend.”

“But… Why is he so upset about Hae-in then? It doesn’t make sense- I saw yesterday that she was head over heels for Jong-in now, it was so obvious. Even with the other woman he's paired with. Why would you feel like that? They have literally nothing to do with us."

Jinwoo couldn’t exactly say that he was territorial and growing more and more possessive over you as time went on either. It took everything in his power not to lose himself like did in the beginning with the headquarters staff member.

Okay, Okay... The first guy really was a fluke. But I'd do it again.

He lied when you asked him if he’d kill for you. While it took him by surprise, it was more headway than he thought was possible this side of the pregnancy. You were still independent a lot of the time and owning your own thoughts.

Yet you still asked him.

It was a given that he would kill for you, but what he wanted to say to you, was that he would abstain from killing, which he had done since. It never made his impulsive thoughts easy to deal with, and despite it all, he managed it.

Because it was for you.

“I feel like that, because I’m in love with you. You’re pregnant and we don’t need the extra drama he’s bringing on our doorstep. I’ll go and find her, because it’s Hae-in. And it’s for you. Not for him.” 

Was it a dick move to say that? Yes. Did it make him better in his head that you knew part of the truth now? Definitely.

Jinwoo opened the door before you even made a sound. Jong-in still stood there like a petrified deer in headlights. “I’ll go find Hae-in, you go get some sleep. I’ll let you know when I find her.”

The night should have long since been over. Jinwoo should have had you in sprawled in bed all fucked out after one thing leading to another, which it would have done had Jong-in not knocked. Then, Jinwoo would have laid in bed with your head on his chest, entangling his fingers in your hair waiting for the twins to move so he could feel it.

But Jong-in robbed that of him.

“Then I’m coming with you, you aren’t going on your own.”

Before Jinwoo could protest, you left the hall towards the bedroom, Beru still stood behind Jinwoo getting antsy but still remaining silent.

“Beru, go and watch your show.” He ignored the little happy dance Beru did and tried not to pay attention to the almighty thud on the couch.

He’ll trash the apartment at this rate. 

Coming back to Jong-in, he didn’t seem to notice anything. But he was getting on Jinwoo’s nerves just standing there, not being his usual self, like he cared. “I’ll come with you-”

“It’s fine. Get some rest.” And he closed the door on him without another word.

When you emerged, you took note of Beru’s position on the sofa and Jong-in's lacking presence. “Where did he go?”

“He went back to his apartment. It’ll be better if I just go- Igris, come out here.”

Igris appeared on cue, wisping out of your shadow and kneeling at Jinwoo’s feet. “Go and find Hae-in, let me know when you do.”

The shadow vanished, Jinwoo took the opportunity to take a glance at the spyhole through the door to await Jong-in’s departure. He was no longer there, whether he did as he was told, or went back out to find Hae-in was another matter Jinwoo did not care to think about.

He just couldn’t stand the man. In the eyes of everyone else, including you, he’d done Jinwoo no harm. Even so, it was the potential to ruin everything that Jinwoo had worked for that turned his stomach at the man who otherwise did absolutely nothing.

“Alright, we’ll go together. But if it gets too much, you’re coming straight home.”

“Jinwoo, I’m pregnant, not unwell. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

There’s that attitude I admire. Shame it's coming at the wrong time. “Alright then.”

By the time Jinwoo grabbed his jacket, you were half way out of the door. He turned to Beru who was still in the same place, eyes peeled to the screen of two characters dancing, or were they fighting? He wasn’t sure, but he called to him like a father ensuring the teenager left in charge wouldn’t burn the apartment down.

“We’re leaving, keep the noise down and come back to me when your show is finished.”

“Yes, Sire!”

Hae-in was probably off somewhere to get some peace and quiet, you made weird comments about the facility from what you had heard. How noisy it was, the lack of privacy due to constant tests that Hae-in mentioned, poking and prodding her with large needles. whether it was entirely true and not an overexageration because of exhaustion and other contributing factors were to be revealed.

However, that could have been you last night had Jinwoo not thought on his feet. Never would he allow you to go anywhere. Never. Never. 

By the time the elevator made its way up to the floor, you were already stepping in, anxiously biting at the dead skin on your fingers and tapping your feet like it was making the elevator move faster. “I knew it was a bad idea Jong-in letting her go to that place. She’s all on her own, it must be so lonely. Why didn't he fight for her?”

"Fighting requires effort. It depends how much pressure he's under from the association."

"You fought for me."

Jinwoo snapped his gaze at you, surprised at your forwardness, slipping your hand into his like a real real couple. It nearly made his heart explode. "I did. I always will."

You never let go, but you dropped the deep inhale too were keeping in your chest. "Why did all of this get so fucked up? I mean, from what I've seen of Hae-in, she seemed so calm and steady. running off like this is unlike her, I guess."

Anyone could pull there jerk reactions from a hat under the right circumstances, even docile hearted Jong-in. "What would you do if you were in her position? Where would you go?”

The question caught you off guard, Jinwoo saw it but how you watched him closely, your body closer yet you said nothing at first.

“I would… I’d go to the place I felt most safe if I was feeling lonely.”

“Which is?” He knew already, well, he hoped. Jinwoo wanted to hear it from your lips.

“Home... In the apartment. With you.”

"It's home to me, too.," Jinwoo smiled, he wanted to kiss you, and he almost did, but the pit of his stomach twisted.

It was Igris.

“He found her. That was too quick to have found her- hold on to me, I’ll exchange- I’m sorry, but it’s going to make you sick.”

“It’s fine.” You didn’t need telling twice, vigourously shaking your head like it would dispel the link from your brain to your stomach.

Jinwoo held you close whilst you clung to him, and he switched places with Igris.

What the- This is the association facility. 

You let go immediately and heaved, hunching over the nearest trash can. A miniature one in the corner invited you, Jinwoo shook away his astonishment on Jong-in’s part and held your hair back. Moaning into the metal container made it echo, your groans of how unfair things were, something about your mana and that you really weren't ever doing that again.

Jinwoo's attention fell on the walls of the facility, cold and modernised with a blinding white artificial overhead light that barely peeked through the overwhelming stench of rubbing alcohol and bitter antiseptic. The linoleum stuck to Jinwoo's shoes, almost crispy from the overuse of cleaning substances and misused adhesives under the mislaid grey carpet that was just as dull as at the illness posters on the wall.

How the fuck did Jong-in not look in the place Hae-in was living in?

Idiot. 

“Let me go! Stop it!” The room at the end of the hall.

It’s where you instinctively ran to, holding yourself and wiping your face with your sleeve as you did so. Jinwoo followed close behind and prevented you from entering into the commotion.

Hae-in laid in bed, restrained to the side bars in wide eyed tears mixed with the perspiration of an athlete across her forehead. She noticed you first before Jinwoo.

Well, this was anticlimactic, she was here all along. 

“You came- you came! You have to get me out, they’re crazy!”

She tugged through gritted teeth, and hissed at the red swelling over her jittery wrists. Hae-in naturally relaxed a fraction in your presence, you rushed over and tried the restraints, noting the padlock on each cuff.

“Holy shit- Jinwoo, help me!”

“You have to get me out of here- I can’t be here anymore. I want to go back to the apartment, help me get back to Jong-in, I don’t want to be here anymore!”

Hae-in thrashed around at Jinwoo’s hesitancy. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was because something didn’t sit right. If she was here the entire time, then why did Jong-in come to the apartment looking for her?

To get time with you? No. Jong-in’s had plenty of other opportunities to speak to you about other things and he hasn’t, he’s just picking odd times. There has to be something more to this. 

“Jinwoo! Snap out of it and help me!”

Shit. The room stood still for Jinwoo, not for anyone else in the room. He came over and took a look at the locks, an easy break with his bare hands, he managed one with no effort.

“I’d stop that if I were you-”

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped and pawed at your chest, turning and slipping between Jinwoo’s arms. “Doctor, I didn’t see you there.”

She smiled, though it never reached her troubled eyes. “It’s alright, I get that a lot. I didn't mean to scare you.”

The dark pits under her eyes looked right back at Jinwoo, diabolical in nature to make her dishevelled appearance. A running theme tonight. She did her best to adjust her lab coat and smooth down her hair, but undid everything by rolling up her sleeves.

“Stay away the hell away from me!” Hae-in kicked off the bed covers into a slumped pile on the floor and yanked the digging chain on her other wrist.

“Hunter Cha.” The Doctor slipped a clip into her hair, rushing to open the medicine box on the wall. “Please. You need to calm down, this isn’t good for you or your baby.”

You blinked rapidly, they gaze between Hae-in and the medical professional. “What is going on, doctor? She’s hurting, you need to let her go. This isn't good for her.”

“I will, as soon as she calms down- we found her by the bay, wet and barely dressed, shivering to death. She’s extremely stressed and her pregnancy has become high risk, she needs strict bed rest or she could end up labouring early- Hunter Cha, you're putting your life at risk, your baby's life, please take a deep breath, your blood pressure is through the roof!"

She was distressed and sweaty, wiping away what perspiration she could from her forehead before preparing a syringe to which Hae-in recoiled at. She was hysterical, pulling at the restraint which could dislocate his arm at any time.

“Hae-in, calm down.” You said. “The doctor’s trying to help you, let her help you. You’ll pop a blood vessel like this!”

“No, no, no, no! Get that away from me- I don’t want it, I want to go back- let me go back!”

“Hae-in!”

The doctor came round to her free arm and tried to catch it swinging for her face. “I’m so sorry, I really am- your health is at risk, you need to listen me and calm down. I really want to help you.”

She snatched her arm at the first chance she got and held it to inject her, Hae-in amped the reaction like the doctor was radioactive.

Jinwoo was curious. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. “Hae-in, what’s gotten you so upset?”

She was struggling for breath behind her distraught tears and wails. “They want- they want to take my baby away!”

What?

Part 18 <- Part 19 -> Part 20

Thank you for reading and all of the support on this fic! ❤️ Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated and I appreciate you all! See you next time 🤗

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DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[melanchoire]

reader coming home with nipple piercing and suprising wonyoung 🫦

an old ask (20 days ago... sorry bro 🙏🏻)

cw: nipple play, titsucking, thigh riding.

seeing your girlfriend again after a long time due to her complicated schedules for solo and group promotions. wonyoung has been busy since last year, supernova love being released at the end of the year, releasing an album at the beginning of this year, and promoting non–stop since january, just now having “breaks” or promotions not so often

so imagine how sweet it would be to come home and see that wonyoung is already here, smiling brightly at you and welcoming you with open arms, a loving and warm hug filled with love and long–repressed feelings 💕 she is super romantic and cheesy, although it may not seem like it, she loves quality time even when it is something more casual like a quiet outing or a simple evening walk

sitting next to her on the couch and catching up, her talking to you about her work and what she's been up to lately, or you talking to her about your work and how your studies are going, just casual!

until wonyoung’s gaze unconsciously falls on your chest... she saw what appeared to be your hardened nipples against the shirt you were wearing, at first she didn’t give it much importance because it’s something common in the body! especially now that winter was coming, it was common for a simple breeze or cool weather to cause the body to generate a certain reaction

but after a certain amount of time she realizes that your nipples can’t stay in that state for too long, but of course, she doesn’t dare to comment on it

and you notice her gaze! a chance to tease her

“oh, have you noticed them? i recently pierced them. i wanted to try something new.”

“nipple piercing? seriously?”

“yes.” and you would say it with the biggest, brightest smile possible, acting like it was something that was completely affecting wonyoung’s brain 😁

sitting on her lap, taking off your shirt and exposing your bare chest… you had chosen the prettiest and most sparkly pair of rings, one that you were more than sure wonyoung would love, and she did! she had her eyes glued to your breasts, her eyes traveling from one mound to the other and stopping for a moment to admire both at the same time

ar first she would tell you that she just wants to admire them, asking questions about whether it hurt too much or if the healing process and care involved in the piercing were too long… all to have an excuse to be able to see your tits without any kind of problem 😇

and of course, this ends with wonyoung playing with your tits 🤗 first starting with something more subtle like taking your tits in her hands and feeling their weight on them… until her thumbs begin to rub your nipples, the moan that leaves your lips almost instantly is the signal wonyoung needs to continue her assault

i see wonyoung as someone who likes nipple play SO if your nipples were already sensitive before because of how much she liked to make you sit on her lap, lift your shirt and she would play with them until she got bored, they would be twice as sensitive now that they were pierced! something that wonyoung more than loved

taking your nipples in her mouth, the contrast of the cold metal of the ring and her warm mouth making your head spin 🫠 at one point you couldn’t stand the feeling of your soaked panties any longer and you shifted uncomfortably on her lap, and wonyoung is to the rescue! guiding you to sit on one of her thighs, giving you the freedom to ride her thigh to your liking… at one point she would slide a hand inside your shorts and push your underwear aside, deciding to finger you and at the same time use her thumb to rub your clit 😵‍💫 you decided to give wonyoung a nice surprise, and she would be in charge of thanking you properly

[intutive-peechu]

Topic : Your first argument with your fs

( collab with one and only @kiddotarot)

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Disclaimer :- This is a general reading, it may or may not resonates with you . If you are thinking that your pile doesn't mach, so you can choose another one . And if someone is not inrested they can leave 🤗💚

please like , reblog and comment below to let me know it's nice . Thanks you 🫠 now let's start the reading.......

Notice : I'm going to use pronounce in readings according to energy I'll pick the most ! So you guys can read it from your prespectives and about these pics of girls ( I'm a girl so it's a first point and another reson is that most of the people are here girls or women if someone is man or he / him let me know) so hope it does make sense lol .

Pile 1 . Pile 2 .

Pile 3 . Pile 4 .

Pile 1 💚

Read by @intutive-peechu

Cards : the hierophant , six of pentacle, temperance, death reversed, justice.

Hello my pile 1 💚 welcome to your reading so I get that your first argument with your fs will happen because of slow movement in your relationship, it started to feel like that things are nit moving further and energy will fell stagnant, you want to work on this relationship step by step and want to merry them as per both of your wish . But you feel that they are taking soo much time and not taking action and things are not moving or developing between you too . You want both of you to generous with each other want this change of energy , this giving and receiving so it won't feel like that only one person us putting efforts and another is giving cold shoulder. Your first argument will happen because how you both had been working for this relationship and where you both were lacking and how fragile relationships are ! In relationship you both are require to work to put efforts for each other and handle things with maturity so it won't feel like a burden instead of love . This argument will lead you both to talk about creating balance , equality, rightness of both of you , fairness , cause and effect ( how your actions and words will impact you both and your relationship) and how you both stand your ground and get to the truth . That's it my pile 1 💚 hope you like it thanks for being here .

Pile 2 💚

Read by @intutive-peechu

Cards : the empress, hierophant, temperance reversed, the hermit, tower.

Hello and welcome my pile 2 💚 let's dive in your reading, so your first argument with your fs will happen because one of you will be rushing for marriage, not planning anything clearly , about future and what impact it will leave there will be sudden changes which will lead to fight, argument,conflict, misery and distress . ( I'm getting the one who will be rushing is with masculine energy ) disagreement might happen because of one's career or dream , there will this huge chaos between you two that you guys might stop talking and go in hermit mode for introspection. And will look within for answers, I guess for sometime you both won't contact with eachother and spent time with the group of your friends, and will try to get a clear vision . It might take a lil bit of time but then you both will come together more stronger and mature and will work on this together , at last there will be this love and fruitful energy between you too , I'm getting that one resolving this fight will be one who hold motherly and nurturing energy ! That's it pile 2 💚 hope you like this reading.

Pile 3 💚

Read by @kiddotarot

Cards - The world( r ) , 10 of pentacles, the tower ( r ) , page of cups ( Hermit ( r ) at bottom)

Your first argument with your future spouse happens because you both may not feel growth. There is a feeling of not completing a goal or something that is important and there is some kind of lesson which you both need to learn with this argument or problems. There is problem can be related to leaving a certain things or position behind and circumstances leaving behind it can be related to family or family money / inheritance related and this is important to build a strong base of foundation in your marriage but someone in you either it can be your fs or you resisting change and they don't want to involve or leave the things behind , they don't want much change and that's why this argument will take place between you. You both need to see things from a new Perspective or change their mindset regarding the situation. Maybe starting things with a totally new point of view will help. And of course you need to find clarity and go with your intuition because at that time there can be chances that you both feel lost in this situation and misunderstand it.

Pile 4 💚

Read by @kiddotarot

Cards - the moon ( r ) , The Empress, queen of wand ( r) , king of pentacles ( r ) ,( king of sword at bottom)

Your first argument with your future spouse can happen because of some unseen problems and the changes to things which can be hidden . Someone you either you and future spouse are not volunteering in a situation despite knowing that this Is time yo be strong . The argument can be related to pregnancy, parenting or starting new things in relationships which help you to improve your and their relationships more but someone is unsure about this big step. They are not confident or not feeling sure about what they can do or are they ready for it ? . So they decide to take a step back when it's important to be a leader and take a bold move. They are not feeling emotionally ready for it and I think it's because it can be related to having a baby or not like an unplanned pregnancy. This will Be resolved but you both need to sit and make a plan and strategy about and trust on each other you both will sit and think that how can we start a new life with new happiness.

Read by @kiddotarot and @intutive-peechu

Ruh...

[umbrella-show]

Hello 🤗 just wanted to say I really love your work, and I have a request (if requests are closed and I didn't see, then I apologize)

I was wondering if you could write some romantic yandere head canons with shadow milk cookie (or if you are able to write for burning spice cookie and mystic Flour, you can add them too) with a corrupted beast! Reader who is like nightmare moon from my little pony?

The reader has her personality, the same hair, the horn and the wings etc. and their castle/palace is in the middle of the forest, all day everyday is night. And when the beasts + reader get imprisoned, you could maybe write how the reader was instead imprisoned in the moon (like the show, y'know?)

It's a lot, ik, and you can ignore this if it's too much or not descriptive enough. Have a good day/night 👋

Okay so I haven't seen mlp so I'll try my best to get their personality right.

You were imprisoned with the beast after their corruption, the witches forcing them to watch as extra punishment for their actions.

First off, Shadow Milk cookie would be PISSED that the witches had imprisoned you in the moon, far far away from his prison in the Silver Tree.

If you were going to be trapped, it should have been with him!

He had screamed your name, fought in his cage, extending his arm out as if he could somehow reach you.

Alas, you were sealed within the moon, forced away from him and the other beasts.

Years passed, and while you were never corrupted like your friends when you were imprisoned, you were forced to watch the world go on without you.

It caused you to grow bitter, resentful of the cookies beneath you. They were able to live on, to enjoy their life while you were forced to helplessly watch.

You had eventually become corrupted, vowing to cover the sky in eternal night and bring misery and pain to all. If you couldn't be happy, no one could.

You waited, seethed, plotted your eventual return.

And your patience paid off.

Shadow Milk cookie was the first to break free from the tree, freeing the other beasts in the process.

Of course, he didn't forget about you. When he burst out of the giant split in the tree, he looked up at the moon.

A huge smile spread across his face. He could practically feel your misery, your indignance, your ever burning rage.

Oh, this was going to be a show for the AGES!

After Shadow Milk cookie's first attempt at retrieving his soul jam failed, he switched gears.

He decided to lay low for a bit, gather his faithful followers to put on a new show that was sure to not fail!

And you were one on his stars.

Of course, freeing you would be no problem for him. While the magic containing you in the moon was weaker than the magic that contained the beast into the Silver Tree, he knew you couldn't escape all on your own.

And so, with a sprinkle of magic from him to boast your strength, you had felt the constrictive chains holding you down break.

You had emerged, spreading your dark wings out as your gave a hardened stare towards Shadow Milk cookie.

"Ooooh!~ I looove the new look! Ah, me and the others always knew dabbling in a little darkness would do you some good. And, by the looks of it, we were right, of course we were!"

"I see you've become even more insufferable then when I last saw you."

"Sheesh, grumpy pants! Have some appreciation. I AM the reason you're finally free, am I not?!"

"..."

"See! Now, c'mon, come closer to me, my dazzling star!"

"No."

He is EXTREMELY clingy. Whenever he's around you, he's always touching you in some way. Interlocked arms or even sitting on your shoulders when he's feeling especially cocky.

He finds amusement in your seriousness and stoicism. He likes to purposefully annoy you to get a reaction out of you.

He is around you 24/7, trailing along with his boisterous voice as you try to find a way to get some peace. Of course, he won't allow that.

Life in the Spire of Deceit isn't the worst. Just extremely boring. You are forced to wait as Candy Apple cookie lures those worthless ants here in order to steal back his Soul Jam, and completely reign his full power.

You constantly voice your complaints, growing increasingly agitated as more time passes.

"Why do we need your full strength back to plunge the world in eternal darkness?! In fact, if we do it now, when they least expect it, it will be easier to take back the other half of your Soul Jam. There is NO POINT for this useless waiting!"

"Aww, is my stunning little nightmare still a little cranky from their thousand year slumber?~ We will make eternal night right after I take back what’s rightfully mine, mkay? Besides, I got a REAL good performance planned, I pinky promise it'll be entertaining!"

"...As long as it doesn't take long."

"See!~ I knew you'd come around!"

He likes to dance with you under the stars. You two perfectly in sync, the cracked moon above a reminder of your freedom. Whispers of deceit flow gently through the breeze of the eternal night.

While you two have very different personalities, you can compromise with shared goals. Bringing utter chaos and darkness to Earthbread.

The Beast of Deceit curls himself around his star, his actor, his dazzling nightmare, as inferno of chaos beneath burns bright. All of those pesky gnats fall to their knees at their feet, bright blue strings around their limbs compelling them to crumple forward. Darkness, as black as tar, expands through the sky, shielding the sun's light from ever reaching the surface. Shadow Milk cookie cackles manically, grasping you tighter than ever, for you two had finally won.

[goldfades]

PARDON MY EMOTIONS / I SHOULD PROBABLY KEEP IT ALL TO MYSELF ── 𝐉𝐁⁵

❪ requested -> "jude angst to fluff WITH PLOT!" ❫

─ pairing | jude bellingham x fem!reader

─ word count | 1.7k

─ warnings | lots of angst to fluff, miscommunication (kind of), jude being an ASSHOLE but making up for it.

─ ev's notes ! | i'm now in my football kick due to the euros and copa america so please send in requests!!! 🤗🎀

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with England's star football player had its ups and downs.

You got to be a WAG, enjoying the glamorous lifestyle that came with dating Jude. From attending high-profile matches and exclusive events to traveling the world and mingling with other footballers and celebrities, life was never boring. The media attention was overwhelming at times, but you learned to navigate the spotlight and maintain a sense of normalcy.

However, that was the problem. You longed for a sense of normalcy, that was all you wanted was for your relationship. The glitz and glamour of being a WAG was only fun for a bit, not it seemed like you never got a moment to yourself. This was the root of all your relationships, somehow ─ Jude never understood why you wouldn't like all the media attention.

"It's overwhelming," you muttered as you played with the bottom of your of your coffee cup, the warm ceramic providing little comfort. Jude sat across from you, his expression both of concern and confusion.

"What do you mean, overwhelming?" He replied, his gaze locked on you. "This is part of the life we have. The attention, the media... it's just something we have to deal with."

You sighed, looking out the window at the city outside. "But that's just it, Jude. I never wanted this. I love you, and I support your career, but I miss having a private life. I miss being able to go out without cameras following us or people recognizing us everywhere we go."

"Overwhelming for you?" He sighed, his expression hardening. "How do you think I feel? Look, I'm not asking for much ─ I've given you the best life I can,"

You scoffed, he wasn't listening to what you were saying. "This isn't about you or-or what you've given me. I'm grateful, I really am-"

"Doesn't sound like it," Jude cut you off, his voice rising in frustration. "It sounds like you're not happy with anything I've done."

You felt a surge of anger, the words bubbling up before you could stop them. "That's not fair, Jude," you sighed. "I've been by your side through everything, and all I'm asking for is a little understanding. I need space, I need to feel like my own person, not just an accessory to your life."

Jude stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "So, what? You want me to quit football? Give up everything I've worked for?"

"No!" You stood up as well, your heart pounding. "I don't want you to give up anything. I just want you to see things from my perspective for once. I'm losing myself in all of this, and I feel like an accessory you just get to show off."

"Well, you know that's not true," his eyes softened for a moment, but then the frustration returned. "I thought we were a team. I thought we were in this together. But it feels like you're just... giving up."

"I'm not giving up," you said, your voice breaking. "It's hard for me too, like I'm just a pretty face with no dreams or aspirations. That's what they think-"

"Who cares what they think? I know you're more than that, everyone you care about knows that." Jude let out a huff as he glared at you.

"Well it's always just been about you, Jude," you didn't mean it to come out so harsh ─ your tone hard and cold. "Moving to Spain and-and all this, it's hard on me too."

That seemed to hit a nerve because Jude's eyes went wide before he scoffed. "You think this has been easy for me? You think moving to a different country, dealing with the pressure of a new team, and trying to keep us together is all about me?"

You flinched at his words, but your frustration was too strong to back down now. "That's not what I'm saying, Jude. I just want you to see that I'm struggling too. I left everything behind to be with you. My friends, my family, my life — everything."

Jude's face softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight with anger. "I need you to understand that this life comes with sacrifices. We both have to make them, this is what you signed up for."

"I know that, Jude," you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffled. "But sometimes it feels like I'm the only one sacrificing. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I don't know how to fix it."

You wiped away a tear before continuing, averting your gaze from Jude. "I just need to feel like I'm more than just your girlfriend. I need to feel like I have my own purpose."

"You are!" Jude snapped, before sighing.

You sent him a glare as you sighed loudly, getting tired of not being heard. "Don't raise your voice!"

"You're being ungrateful, I've given you everything! A nice house, a nice car, you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?"

That was the last straw. Your mouth was slightly agape as you took in his words. Ungrateful? How could he say that after everything you've sacrificed to be with him?

"Fuck," you sighed as you looked up, meeting his gaze. "Is that how low you think of me? Fine, then. Let them have my position, since apparently, you think I'm just here for the perks," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger.

Jude's face fell, a mixture of regret and panic crossing his features. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just frustrated. I love you, and I want us to be happy."

You shook your head, taking a step back. "That's not enough, Jude. Love isn't just about the nice things or the glamorous life. It's about understanding each other. And right now, I don't feel understood."

"That's not what I meant," Jude sighed as he began rubbing his temple. "Jesus, I need some space from you."

You glared as he grabbed his keys from the counter and you watched him walk out of the room, feeling your stomach twist in anxiety and hurt. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Tears streamed down your face as you sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the argument pressing down on you.

You sat there for a while, trying to process everything that had just happened. The love you had for Jude was undeniable, but the constant feeling of being misunderstood was taking its toll. You needed to find a way to reclaim your sense of self, to feel heard in your relationship.

After a few moments, you wiped your tears and took a deep breath. You needed to do something, anything, to clear your mind. You decided to go for a walk, hoping the fresh air would help you think more clearly. Grabbing your jacket, you stepped outside and started walking aimlessly through the streets of the city.

As you walked, you reflected on your relationship with Jude. There had been so many beautiful moments, but lately, it seemed like the challenges were overshadowing the good times. You loved him deeply, but you needed to find a way to communicate better, to make him understand how you felt without it turning into a fight.

After a while, you headed back home, feeling a bit more centered. When you entered the apartment, you heard the TV and sighed. You took off your jacket and made your way to the living room, your gaze landing on Jude was too immersed in the show he was watch to realize you'd come home.

He finally met your gaze and instantly muted the TV, the tension palpable as you walked toward him.

"Hey," you whispered as he gave you a small smile.

He tapped to the spot next to him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitated for a moment before joining him on the couch, the silence between you heavy with tension.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I've been thinking about what you said."

You nodded, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. "Me too. I just... I need you to understand how hard this is for me."

Jude took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. "I know I've been incredibly fucking selfish, and I haven't been listening to you. I didn't realize how much you were sacrificing and how it was affecting you until now and... and I'm sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. "I appreciate that, Jude. I love you, but I need to find my own way, to have something that's mine."

He nodded, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I get that. And I want to help you find that. We can work on this together, maybe you can look into things that interest you here, find something that makes you happy."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I’d like that. And maybe we can set some boundaries with the media, try to keep our private life a bit more private."

"Yeah, absolutely," Jude agreed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll talk to my manager and see what we can do about that. Your happiness is important to me... you are important to me."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of reassurance. "Thank you, Jude. I just want us to be happy together, without all the pressure and stress."

He kissed the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you protectively. "We will, I promise."

"I love you, a lot," Jude continued, his voice soft. "I didn't mean anything I said earlier, I was just angry. I don't know..." He trailed off, before pausing. "I don't know what I'd do with you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his brown ones, and you could see the depth of his feelings for you. "I love you too, Jude," you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion.

As you cuddled together on the couch, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, you felt a sense of peace.

"How about we start fresh tomorrow?" Jude suggested, his voice gentle. "We can spend the day together, just us. No media, no distractions. Just enjoying each other's company."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief. "I'd love that. It sounds perfect."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Good. It's a date then."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Looking for Part 2? Click here!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.

[bad268]

aaa hii I love your bernard the elf one shots and I was wondering if you could write a romantic one-shot where the reader is also a head elf // becomes one of the head elves?? idk why but I feel like there would be more head elf’s and assistants to take shifts at the workshop or something 😭

if you can’t it’s okay but if you can tysm!! 🤗💕

Carry You Home (Bernard X Head Elf! Reader)

Fandom: The Santa Clause

Requested: Clearly (I usually don't accept requests for fictional people anymore, but I was in a mood)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1101

Summary: At least you had Bernard to carry you home.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You walked through the workshop looking for one person and one person only: Bernard. You hadn’t seen him since that morning, and you were too busy running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Christmas was right around the corner, and as Co-Head Elf, you had a deadline to uphold. 

You two had decided that splitting up would make everything easier on both of you, and Santa was all for letting you do whatever you thought would make December run smoother. So far, it had been successful, so who was he to say no?

Right. The only problem with the system, that you found, was the fact that you only saw Bernard at the beginning and end of your day. Sometimes, you would get lucky and run into him during lunch, but that wasn’t a guarantee. Today, you were meant to meet up with Bernard for a status report before dinner, but your rounds went longer than you expected. You didn’t finish until nearly eight PM, and by the time you realized that Bernard was nowhere to be found, you started panicking.

You looked through the workshop, upstairs and downstairs, in the reindeer stables, in the kitchen, in the courtyard, in every nook and cranny you could think of, and there was no sign of Bernard. None of the elves were much help either, most having said they hadn’t seen him in hours. That just raised more red flags in your mind as you frantically ran through the workshop for the one-hundredth time, it seemed.

That’s when you had a lightbulb moment. If you couldn’t find him in the workshop or your flat, he had to be in his office. That was the only option you could think of, so you set off for it immediately.

It was in the far corner of the workshop because Bernard always complained about the noise and how he could not work if it was too loud. You always thought that was BS since he was the one who opted for all of the louder, faster-paced environments during rounds and let you take the smaller, quieter departments. That was your thing.

You made your way through the corridors before you reached the now significantly darker hallway. It didn’t take you long to reach Bernard’s office door before you raised your hand to knock lightly on the wood. You barely tapped it before the door opened slightly. You pushed your way in carefully and stopped in your tracks as soon as you registered the scene in front of you.

Bernard was slumped back against his chair, asleep. You should have known this was where he would end up. He had been working himself to the bone every day in the lead-up to Christmas. It wasn’t something you saw often because he usually waited until you fell asleep before he dozed off. 

You smiled to yourself as you walked up behind the chair and gently grabbed the blanket that was folded neatly across the back of his chair. He shuffled around in the chair for a second, causing you to freeze and hold your breath as he settled back down. When he finally did, you let out your breath and unfolded the blanket to place over him. You did not want to wake him up, everyone knew he needed all the sleep he could get, and if he was going to sleep in his office, the least you could do was make sure he stayed warm. You tucked the blanket around his shoulders, making sure it wouldn’t somehow fall off during the night. Then, you quietly made your way out. Just as you were about to close the door behind you, you heard rustling from inside his office again, so you peeked your head through the doorframe. 

Sure enough, your eyes immediately met Bernard’s bleary ones. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” You whispered with a smirk as he yawned and rubbed his hands over his face, “Well, it’s not morning, but you looked like you were getting some good sleep there. Santa knows you needed that.”

“Would’ve been better if you were here,” He teased as he leaned back in his chair, looking like he was ready to fall back asleep any second.

“You’re such a flirt when you’re tired,” You rolled your eyes as you walked back into the room. “Is that your attempt at getting me to sleep in here with you? To be honest, I would much rather lay in our bed in our flat where we don’t have the threat of Curtis or someone walking in here randomly.”

“People don’t just randomly walk in here,” Bernard dismissed as he stood up, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders before walking up to you and pulling you into the blanket with him. “And even if they did, that’s their problem.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d also rather not sleep in my jeans that I’ve been wearing all day,” You pointed out, wrapping your arms around his waist and absorbing his body heat. That’s when you realized just how cold you actually were as well. “Plus, our heater is better.”

“You’ve sold me,” He sighed with a joking eye-roll before kissing your forehead as you yawned. “Jump up. I’ll carry you home.”

“You literally just woke up, and now you’re offering to carry me? You’ve been having too much eggnog,” You questioned as you looked at him skeptically.

“Maybe I have,” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “Maybe I just like carrying you.”

“Weirdo, but I’m not gonna turn down a free ride.” You jumped up and wrapped your arms around his waist as he adjusted one arm under your legs and the other around your shoulders, holding the blanket up.

“Hold the blanket,” He said as you used one of your arms to keep the blanket around your shoulders while he moved his other arm to keep you up. Then, he walked out of his office, pausing to let you turn the light off and lock the door. “I’m not trying to drop you. That would make me a bad boyfriend, and I’m not trying to get on the naughty list this close to Christmas.”

“That would not be a good thing,” You commented as you leaned your head against his shoulder and looked up at him as he walked through the workshop. It was mostly silent by now, save for the couple who were passing through to the kitchens or whatnot, but it made you realize just how late it was getting. At least you had Bernard to carry you home.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[maidragoste]

Modern Cregan × reader (she/her) uni vibes ?

Cregan Stark x Reader

Hi anon, first, thank you so much for your request. Second, I hope you don't mind if I use your request to write to ex-husband! Cregan and the reader when they were in the college

I hope you all enjoy it. If you like it, please don't hesitate to leave a like, comment, and reblog. The comments and interactions always motivate me to continue writing 🥰🥰💖💖

If you have any ideas, questions or headcanons you want to share, my inbox is always open 🤗💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I hope you have a good reading!

Cregan Stark is the most patient and loving man you've ever met. You never imagined that the boy who had asked you for help during Valyrian classes would end up being your boyfriend. The truth is, having a boyfriend wasn't in your plans because your father only wanted you to focus on college, and a boy meant distractions. But Cregan wasn't a distraction; he was your partner and your supporter. When you had to practice for a presentation, he was always willing to listen and give you tips. When there was something you didn't understand about an author, he would take the time to read it or look it up and explain it to you. And when you were too tired to cook after studying all day, he had no problem taking over.

But exam week was over, so the two of you were free to go out and have some fun. You two accepted Jacaerys's invitation to go see him play at a club. You spent most of the night dancing and drinking. You drank too much because it was impossible for you to walk straight alone, so Cregan guided you with his hands on your back so that you could enter his apartment without crashing into anything. He led you to his room and sat you down on the bed. He then patiently helped you undress and put on the pajamas he'd kept there for the nights you stayed over.

Cregan left you alone for a moment, only to return with a glass of water. He forced you to drink it while he went to the bathroom to get the makeup remover and cotton.

“I drank it all, so now I want my reward,” you demanded when he returned. Cregan laughed before kissing you. The moment he felt you deepen the kiss, you began to tug at the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He pulled away.

“Miss, I won’t do anything to you in this state,” he said, and you pouted but didn’t insist. You were grateful to have him. “Now let me take off your makeup so you can go to sleep.” He kissed your forehead, making you smile.

And so you ended up sitting cross-legged with Cregan sitting opposite you while he delicately rubbed the makeup remover over your face.

“I could marry you,” you said without thinking, making Cregan’s heart race.

“I can’t wait for that day,” he confessed with a smile and soft eyes, making you feel warm. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you declared with shining eyes and gave him a small kiss.

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[ghostlynightpanda]

Just thought about something that might be funny but feel free to refuse it if you want 🤗

Maybe AiB characters reacting to reader wearing these earrings I made for myself?

I dunno bro, I just love to bite people, I have a problem 😭🙈

AIB Characters react to Reader biting them (affectionately)

content/warnings: Ann, Kuina, Mira, Aguni, Niragi, Last Boss, Chishiya, canon typical blood and violence, 2.870 words

Ann

You weren't sure what part of this new world had unlocked the more feral side of your personality, but you were fairly confident that the culprit was standing beside you right now — completely oblivious, totally composed, and annoyingly attractive.

Ann.

It wasn't her fault, really. She just had that face — serious, stoic, criminally pretty — and a calmness that made your brain short-circuit. The more collected she looked, the more your unhinged little goblin brain wanted to nibble her arm.

And so far, your strategy of getting her attention by gently biting her when she wasn't looking? Questionable. Effective? Absolutely.

You two were currently crouched in an alley, waiting out a patrol during a late-night Hearts game. Tension was high. Ann pointed toward a rooftop, discussing escape routes. Her arm moved in front of your face.

Mistake.

You bit her.

Lightly. Shoulder-adjacent. Not a chomp. More like a respectful nip.

She froze.

You blinked at her, the red heart earrings dangling beside your face swaying slightly. One of them read: "THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH." The other: "I NEED TO BITE PEOPLE."

Appropriate branding, really.

Ann turned her head, expression unreadable. "Did you just... bite me?"

"...Affectionately," you said, not even attempting to look guilty. "It's a sign of respect in some cultures."

She arched an eyebrow, lips twitching like she was holding back a smirk. "In what culture?"

"Mine."

Ann rolled her eyes and resumed watching the rooftops. "You're a menace."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

The silence stretched comfortably for a moment. Then she spoke, soft but deliberate.

"You're lucky I like menaces."

Oh.

You stared at her, momentarily stunned into not biting, which was saying a lot. "Is that you flirting with me?"

She didn't answer. Just reached out, very casually, and gently bit your arm.

You almost passed out on the spot.

Ann tilted her head slightly, her voice low and dry. "Respectfully."

You clutched your chest in mock anguish. "I think I'm in love."

She shrugged. "Therapy is not enough."

You grinned. "Exactly why I need to bite people."

Kuina

Kuina had seen some weird things in this world — games that made no sense, people with names like "Hatter" or "Last Boss" and an inexplicably large number of people who still had the energy to flirt during life-or-death scenarios.

But you? You were something else entirely.

Today's flavor of chaos was you biting her.

Not hard. Not in a feral zombie kind of way. More like a little gremlin nudge of affection, always paired with a mischievous smile and those ridiculous red heart earrings bouncing next to your cheeks.

One said: "THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH." The other: "I NEED TO BITE PEOPLE."

And Kuina? She'd be lying if she said it didn't kind of grow on her.

It happened after a tense bout of hand-to-hand in a Clubs game. You'd both made it through, bruised and panting, collapsed on the rooftop of the building where the game had taken place. The sun was setting — which would've been romantic if you hadn't immediately leaned over and nibbled her arm like she was a damn fruit snack.

Kuina blinked down at the bite mark. Then at you.

"Seriously?"

You flopped dramatically onto your back. "I don't have the words, Kuina. I just have teeth and feelings."

Kuina laughed, the kind that was sharp around the edges but secretly fond. "You're so weird. That's your idea of a love confession?"

"Did it work?"

She tilted her head. "Maybe."

You lit up like someone had just handed you a bag of candy and a second chance at life. "So you're saying if I bite you again—"

She lunged forward and gently bit your cheek before you could finish the sentence. You froze mid-sentence.

Kuina pulled back, grinning. "Two can play that game."

You stared at her in awe. "That was so hot."

"Yeah?" she smirked. "Try biting me again and I'll really show you what hot looks like."

You squinted at her. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

"Yes."

You flopped over onto her lap and sighed like a Victorian maiden. "Take me, my sharp-toothed queen."

She laughed, playing with your hair idly. "You're lucky I like weirdos."

"You say that like I'm not the best decision you've ever made."

"I haven't made it yet," she teased. "Still weighing the risks of dating someone who bites people like a nervous hamster."

"You love it."

"...I kinda do."

Mira

You met her during a lull between games, in one of those eerie moments where the world felt still — too still. You were lounging across a couch in a half-destroyed hotel lounge, wearing your red heart earrings with their signature declarations:

"THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH." "I NEED TO BITE PEOPLE."

Mira's gaze had lingered on them. Then on you. She smiled, slow and sharp.

"A cry for help, or a warning?"

You tilted your head at her like a cat deciding whether to pounce. "Depends on the day."

She laughed — that musical, spine-tingling kind of laugh that made most people question whether she was flirting or threatening them. You didn't care which it was. You were already enamored.

It wasn't until days later that the biting actually happened.

She was standing beside you, pointing something out on a map, her arm right in front of your face — and your brain activated like muscle memory. You leaned in and nipped her wrist, a light, playful bite.

She didn't flinch.

Just turned to you with a look of amused curiosity, like you were a strange animal doing tricks she hadn't taught yet.

"Did you just bite me?" she asked, voice calm and laced with delight.

"Yes," you said proudly. "It's how I say I like you."

"And what happens if I bite you back?" she purred.

Your brain blue-screened. "...Then we're dating?"

Mira's smile turned positively wicked. She stepped closer — too close — eyes glittering like she'd just found her new favorite game.

"Interesting," she murmured. "So affection for you is... a full-contact sport?"

You shrugged. "Well-adjusted people don't wear earrings like these."

She reached up and gently brushed her fingers over one of them. "No. But they do make things infinitely more entertaining."

And then — in the most confusing, flustering moment of your life — Mira leaned in and bit your shoulder.

Soft. Intentional. Infuriatingly slow.

You short-circuited.

She leaned back with that same unreadable smile. "Consider this... mutual interest."

You blinked. "So... like. Do we bite more now? Is this a thing?"

"Only if you can keep up," she said, already turning away, voice like silk. "Try not to fall in love too quickly, darling. I like to take my time with my... amusements."

You stared after her, mouth slightly open.

"…I'm in so much danger."

And you'd never been happier.

Aguni

Aguni wasn't used to softness.

He'd known violence. Leadership. Loyalty carved in blood and grit. But softness? Playfulness? Ridiculous red earrings that read:

"THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH." "I NEED TO BITE PEOPLE."

Yeah, that was new.

And unfortunately for him (and fortunately for you), you had decided that Aguni — intimidating, silent, built-like-a-tank Aguni — was your favorite person to bite.

Lightly. Respectfully. But still. These arms, these shoulders… They were made to be nipped on. 

It started when he pointed at something during a strategy meeting.

You were standing next to him, trying to focus, really trying, but then his arm moved in front of you — taut muscle, veiny forearm, god-tier bite zone — and before your brain could intervene, you leaned over and nibbled his bicep.

The entire room went silent.

Aguni turned his head. Very slowly.

You looked up at him, completely unapologetic. "I'm expressing affection. Please don't crush me."

He stared at you. Just stared. No reaction.

Then — somehow more terrifying — he said nothing and kept going like nothing had happened.

You spent the rest of the meeting wondering if you were about to be gently executed.

But he didn't avoid you.

In fact, he let you follow him around like a feral little shadow. And when you bit him again — this time the shoulder, mid-walk — he just sighed and muttered, "You've got problems."

You grinned, heart earrings bouncing. "Yeah, but I'm your problem now."

He looked at you then. Really looked. And there was the faintest flicker of a smirk.

"Guess so."

You found out he liked it more than he let on when, during another bite (this time sneak-attacked to the ribs), he actually reached over and pulled you into a headlock.

"Think you're cute, huh?" he said gruffly.

You squeaked. "You're smiling! Admit it, you like it!"

"That's not a smile," he grumbled.

"You're smiling with your soul, Aguni."

He rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I don't bite back."

"Don't make promises you're not prepared to follow through on, big guy."

Pause.

Aguni raised an eyebrow. "...You want me to bite you?"

Your brain caught fire and spontaneously combusted.

"Hypothetically," you said, suddenly shy.

He just chuckled, deep and low, the sound vibrating through your chest.

"Get through one day without biting me," he said, "and maybe I'll return the favor."

You gasped. "You're evil."

"No," he said, walking off. "You are."

You grinned, biting the air in his direction.

"See you tomorrow, Aguni~!"

Niragi

Most people knew better than to get close to Niragi.

You, on the other hand, had walked right up to him, locked eyes, and bitten his arm.

Lightly. Affectionately. But still. No hesitation. Just a clean little chomp.

And then, as if that wasn't enough, you pulled back, smiled up at him, and said:

"Hi. You seem emotionally constipated. I bite people I like."

The earrings swinging beside your face didn't help your case. "THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH." "I NEED TO BITE PEOPLE."

He blinked.

Then laughed. Not the maniacal, I'm-about-to-light-someone-on-fire kind of laugh you usually heard from him — but a genuine, startled, what-the-hell-is-this-creature kind of laugh.

"You're absolutely insane," he said.

You beamed. "So I've been told."

Most people backed off when Niragi got close. You? You got closer.

When he shoved people around, you shoved back. When he made one of his signature threats, you responded with, "Aw, is that your version of flirting?"

And when he stood too close, trying to intimidate you with that cruel, sharp-toothed smirk?

You bit him.

Every. Time.

The first time he caught you off guard, you were sitting on a rooftop, watching the city burn a little in the distance — and Niragi, weirdly quiet, had dropped down beside you.

You didn't say anything. Just reached out and bit his sleeve-covered forearm, gently.

He exhaled slowly. "You never quit, do you?"

"Only when I'm dead. Or married. Whichever comes first."

He stared at you for a long moment. Then leaned in close. "You know what's really messed up?" he muttered. "I think I like it."

Your heart did a weird little hop. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes gleaming. "Kinda makes me wanna bite you back."

You blinked. "...I am listening."

And then — like he was testing you — he leaned in and bit your neck. Quick. Not hard. Just enough to make your breath hitch.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. "You bit me."

He smirked. "Yeah. Now we're even."

"No," you said, already grinning. "Now we're dating."

He scoffed, but didn't move away. "You're so weird."

"And yet here you are, biting me on a rooftop like we're in some kind of feral rom-com."

Pause.

"…God, you're lucky you're hot," he muttered, flopping back beside you.

You smiled. "You gonna bite me again?"

"Probably. Try and stop me."

You held up your arm like a sacrifice. "Here. I'm yours."

He laughed again, shaking his head. "You're a menace."

You leaned against his shoulder. "Takes one to love one."

Last Boss

Most people were afraid of Last Boss.

And to be fair — yeah. Reasonable.

The guy was a tattooed, sword-wielding enigma who barely spoke but made intense eye contact like he could see your secrets. Even the loudest members of the Beach gave him a wide berth.

You? Not so much.

You had made direct eye contact, walked up to him, and after thirty full seconds of silence, bitten his arm like a squirrel trying to assert dominance.

Lightly. Respectfully. But still.

He didn't flinch.

He didn't even blink.

Just looked down at you with a blank expression as your ridiculous red heart earrings swung gently beside your face.

One said: "THERAPY IS NOT ENOUGH." The other: "I NEED TO BITE PEOPLE."

You swallowed. "It's a love thing. Or, like, a you're-cool-and-I-wanna-nibble thing. Please don't stab me."

He blinked. Once. Then —slowly— tilted his head.

"You bite people… you like?" he said, voice calm and weirdly gentle.

You nodded. "It's how I cope with overwhelming affection. Some people write poems. I use teeth."

There was a long silence. Then something utterly insane happened.

He smiled.

Not a smirk. Not creepy. Just… genuine. The faintest upward tug of his lips, like your chaos had broken through whatever steel wall he lived behind.

"…Interesting," he murmured.

From then on, it became a bit of a game.

He'd appear behind you silently (as he always did), and you'd instinctively bite his arm, shoulder, or sometimes his side if he got too close while you were distracted.

He never told you to stop.

Sometimes he'd even lean in, like he was offering himself up.

"Here," he'd say once, nudging your face with his forearm. "I annoyed you earlier. You can bite."

You blinked at him. "You're enabling me."

"I think I like it."

"...You're a menace in monk's clothing."

"I am whatever you think I am."

You blinked slowly. "Are you… flirting with me?"

"I don't know," he said quietly. "Am I?"

One night, you bit him on the wrist while he was cleaning his sword. He didn't even look up.

"Is this what dating is now?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I don't make the rules."

"You kinda do," he said. Then, casually — like discussing the weather — he leaned down and bit you back.

Your soul left your body.

"Okay," you squeaked. "That was not in the rulebook, but I'll allow it."

He tilted his head. "Should I stop?"

"Absolutely not."

He didn't say anything, just smirked faintly again — a rare gift — and went back to sharpening his blade like he hadn't just activated your entire nervous system.

You were the gremlin with the bitey heart earrings. He was the quiet sword guy who let you chew on his shoulder to express affection.

Together, you were terrifying.

Chishiya

There were three types of people in the Borderlands:

Those who feared Chishiya.

Those who respected him.

And then there was you, who walked right up and bit his hoodie sleeve.

No warning. No context. Just a full-on, casual "hello I'm unwell" nibble.

You pulled back and shrugged. "You were in biting range. That's on you."

Chishiya stared at you like you were a particularly interesting virus under a microscope. "Was that… a threat?" he asked, mildly amused.

"Nope," you said brightly. "Affection. I bite people I like."

He blinked slowly.

Then looked down at your earrings.

"…Fitting."

You expected him to avoid you after that. That's what most people did.

Instead, he started lingering.

He'd pass by close enough for you to reach out. He'd sit within biting radius. He'd "innocently" lean forward while pointing at maps, his arm drifting right in front of your mouth.

So you bit him again. And again.

Once on the sleeve. Once on the wrist. Once directly on the hoodie cord just to see if he'd react.

He never pulled away.

But that glint in his eye? That was dangerous.

"You're studying me," you said one day, after a particularly bold shoulder bite.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're very biteable."

You blinked. "That's not a word."

"It is now," he said, clearly delighted by your outrage. "Biteable. Like huggable, but with teeth. Describes you perfectly."

"I'M the biter—"

"And yet," he interrupted, stepping closer, "you seem very… biteable too."

Your mouth opened. Closed. Blue-screened.

"I— what— you— are you threatening to bite me back?"

Chishiya smiled. "No. I'm promising."

When he finally did it — out of nowhere, in the middle of a quiet corridor — it was so quick you almost thought you imagined it.

A sharp, precise little bite to your shoulder. Then he stepped back like nothing had happened, his hoodie half covering his smug little smirk.

You blinked. "Did you just—"

"Must be contagious," he said.

You squinted at him. "You're flirting."

"I prefer 'psychologically experimenting.'"

"Same thing."

"Only if it works."

Pause.

You stepped closer, grinning. "It's working."

He tilted his head, letting you bite his wrist again like it was a secret handshake.

"I know," he said, smug.

You became known as "Chishiya's pet gremlin" around the Beach, which you took as a compliment.

He, for his part, simply let it happen — and smirked whenever someone asked why he tolerated your bitey nonsense.

"They make life more interesting," he'd say.

And occasionally, just occasionally, he'd bare his teeth like a cat about to pounce.

"Careful," he'd murmur. "Bite too hard, and I might bite back."

Which, for you, was less of a warning… and more of a challenge.

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