#//this started as a drabble then became a summary but whatever

[lalannaoronir]

She could still remember how she felt that night at Kadjaya's Footsteps: a mixture of awe and an underlying terror she couldn't quite explain at the sight of the brilliant starshower above Thavnair.

Hear. Feel. Think.

She was only a child then, barely past her seventeenth nameday; could anyone blame her for ignoring Hydaelyn's call? She didn't even know it was Hydaelyn at the time. She didn't know who Hydaelyn was at all -- only the Sisters. And that voice did not belong to any of them. So she ignored it, or tried to, for three years.

But the visions. The visions of others' memories, the ones that overwhelmed her that day by the shore -- her, an Au Ra practically birthed to swim in Thavnair's clear waters -- she couldn't hide that. She couldn't think of an excuse quick enough to explain to her mother why she had nearly drowned in front of her.

She didn't want to leave, but she knew she couldn't keep going on like this. These visions, this Echo had to go. But the Students of Baldesion had wrote that a group in the far-off land of Eorzea would be able to help her, and so she believed them.

She boarded a ship heading to Aldenard, to Thanalan, and upon her arrival, the timid foreign girl requested aid of an official-looking armored guard.

"I am seeking the Scions of the Seventh Dawn," she pleaded. "Do you know where I could find them?"

Unbeknownst to her, the Scions had been accused of regicide only a day prior. The guard, a member of the Brass Blades, led her straight to a prison -- and only when he opened the cell door for her did she realize she was being arrested. All too late. They ignored her questions and pleas and that was it. Off the boat and into jail. She didn't understand what was happening. It felt like a nightmare. It was a nightmare.

It was only later that night, when even her terrified weeping had subsided, that a voice addressed her from the next cell over. Lalanna had never seen a Viera before, but then again, she hadn't seen very many Roegadyn or Lalafell, either, until she had boarded the ship taking her to Eorzea. She would talk to a plant if it spoke to her nicely enough at this rate.

She wasn't sure why Ben'aan had asked her what had happened to her. Curiosity? Sympathy? Boredom? He himself had been locked up by the Brass Blades for a few weeks, or so he claimed, due to being falsely accused of being a spy for the Garlean Empire. Lalanna knew better than to trust a stranger at his word, but she was so distraught and he was the only one willing to listen to her. She told him everything, including the Echo she wished to dismiss and her search for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

And for whatever reason -- she thought, at the time, it was just to escape -- Ben'aan offered to help her find the Scions, in exchange for her assistance in getting out of this prison. She had no reason to refuse, and soon, they were running out of Ul'dah with the Brass Blades hot on their heels. Eventually, though, they lost them.

Ben'aan had heard that the Scions had been accused of regicide, but that their headquarters lay in the small town of Vesper Bay. Upon arriving, however, Lalanna was horrified to find their supposed headquarters abandoned. Nothing but an empty warehouse, now. She had collapsed, all but consumed by her hopelessness -- but Ben'aan was not deterred. He insisted they leave for the Black Shroud, if only to avoid the Brass Blades' influence. Listless and with nowhere else to go (and no gil to her name to try and return home), Lalanna agreed.

Over the course of the next few months, the two of them picked up odd jobs around Gridania and its surrounding villages, keeping their ears open for word about the Scions and earning just enough gil to survive. Ben'aan even taught her how to defend herself, sharing the his own dual-blade fighting style with her. Through this, and the time they spent together overall, they grew close. It wasn't very difficult at all for Lalanna to begin to harbor romantic feelings for him, but it was hard to gauge his reciprocity. Still, she was content enough for now just to have a companion. After all, he had no reason to stay by her side now that he was free from the Brass Blades. Surely he liked her, at least to some extent, to stay by her side.

And then news arrived of the Scions once more: that the Scions' own Warrior of Light had began to bridge the gap between the Eorzean Alliance and the withdrawn city-state of Ishgard, and even helped to end the centuries-long Dragonsong War. Soon after, there were whispers of the Scions' new headquarters being located in the Rising Stones in Mor Dhona.

She recalled Ben'aan's initial hesitance when she proposed they seek them out, but he agreed so quickly she didn't pay it any mind. Perhaps, she thought privately, he was reluctant to change the familiar life they had settled into together. Regardless, they made it to Mor Dhona the same day that a forebooding orb had appeared in the sky, not unlike the story of Dalamund. Upon arriving at the Seventh Heaven Bar, she began to second guess her decision to seek them out -- but Ben'aan had encouraged her to go.

"This is something you need to do yourself, Lalanna," he urged. "I'll find us a room at the inn in the meantime. Come find me when you're done."

He took the gil they shared and left, presumably to pay for their rooms, and she steeled her nerves before making her way inside.

Fortunately, she had found the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Krile, in particular, had been a member of the Students of Baldesion and knew of the Auri girl that had been sent to seek Minfilia's guidance. But with this comfort came a new slew of revelations: the Echo could not be removed, nor silenced, and the Scions could do little but nurture the ability she had never wanted.

Distressed, Lalanna excused herself from the Rising Stones to find Ben'aan, only to learn that there wasn't a proper inn at this particular town. Puzzled, she searched the settlement, only to learn that the guards just outside the town had seen Ben'aan leave on a chocobo cart to some unknown destination an hour ago.

After all that time, he had left without so much as a goodbye. Again, she found herself lost and with no one to turn to. No one but the Scions, who fortunately were kind enough to take her in. Of course, she was inconsolable at first -- she curled up in the bed assigned to her in Dawn's respite and lay there, listless and overwhelmed for nearly an entire day. Eventually, however, a fellow Scion was sent in to try and get her to eat -- a fellow Au Ra, this one with dark green scales she had never seen before, carrying a tray and flanked by five curious little fairies.

Their name was Beetle Bleisyl. They had been one of the few arcanists in the Scions' employ when the Bloody Banquet had occurred, and had been doing their part to help find the Scions that had been lost during that time. They were also quite the little oddball, although Lalanna immediately felt a camaraderie with them upon meeting. Almost as though they had always meant to be friends.

With Beetle and Krile's support, Lalanna found the strength within herself to embrace her new life as a Scion. She finally had a chance to write her parents in Thavnair, assuring them that she was finally safe and working with her gift after nearly a year of no contact. She met the other Scions, including the Warrior of Light, albeit briefly, just before they departed for Gyr Abania.

In the meantime, she, Beetle, and a few other newer members of the Scions were tasked with culling the unruly monsters in Eorzea haunting local dungeons. Although it was frightening at first, it helped build her confidence as a fighter and as a person in general.

A few days into embracing her new role, she came across a stray kitten in Quarrymill, and immediately adopted her, naming her Butternut for the golden-tabby pattern of her fur. She would later get her own chocobo, too, and name it Puddles...because he liked to have accidents when he was excited.

Despite not having as much life or adventuring experience as others, Lalanna eventually became the unofficial leader of her team for how she took charge and looked after others. While not a prominent frontliner compared to the Warrior of Light's closest companions, she and her group stepped up while the events unfolded on the First. Lalanna and Beetle even assisted Tataru and Krile in recruiting Estinien Varlineau, and subsequent missions to eliminate Black Rose chemical plants.

Despite her shaky beginnings, Lalanna quickly grew into a competent adventurer and ally of the Warrior of Light. Still, she couldn't quite let go what had happened with Ben'aan. She vowed to find him one day and learn his reasons for leaving her behind herself.

[bvidzsoo]

From people you know, to people you don't

 𝝙 Boyfriend!Yunho 𝝙 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

∞ Warning: cursing, blood, manhandling ∞ Word count: 3.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, lovers to exes to acquittances!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Yunho wasn't the same man you had once known. What he had turned into, you didn't know. But you did know one thing, you'd do anything to keep your daughter safe and away from him.

∞ A/N: Hello...we don't speak of this. I know I'm supposed to be writing my thesis and Love Me Like A Rockstar (and Beyond The Obscure), but my mind had been plagued with short drabbles for all of our boys so...yeah, I'm writing a mafia drabble for all of them, it seems like it:) Yunho is the first one to start off this new mini-series, and the next members will be posted randomly. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated, I hope you enjoy!

 𝝙 Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            It hadn’t always been like this. Yunho hadn’t always been like this. Five years ago when we had met, he was a sweetheart. He was attentive and the kindest man I have ever known, so loving and a safe place. He bought me flowers every third day and took us out on dates every Friday, all throughout those two years that we had been together for. But then…somehow the cracks in his character started showing. His smiles became less genuine and his once protective hold became possessive and painful. There was something about his eyes that didn’t hold any warmth anymore, just scary, icy coldness that kept you rooted to your spot, shaking and praying to a God that he wouldn’t pounce on you and do only God knows what to you. He became a predator ready to hunt his prey…even if his prey was me. The woman he had once claimed to love furiously and ardently, an emotion now turned into constant anger and hatred whenever he looked in my direction.

I have never truly understood what I have done wrong, but after a while, I stopped trying to understand. I stopped trying to decipher who Jeong Yunho truly was, and why he was the way he was. I stopped trying to make it work between us when I found out that a fragile life was growing inside of me. I wasn’t ready to become a mother at the fragile age of twenty-four, but I wasn’t capable of letting the baby go no matter how hard I tried to convince myself. Despite our quickly deteriorating relationship, that baby had been conceived with love, and I knew deep down Yunho was a good man, he had just lost his way in life. And I was scared of him and of whatever he was capable of after that fated night.

A storm was raging outside, lightning illuminating the night sky every few minutes, thunder shaking the ground. I had a bad feeling, a really bad one, as I gripped my warm mug tightly in my hands, staring out the window. Yunho was supposed to be home by now, hours ago, actually, but he wasn’t. And he wasn’t answering my calls nor my texts. A tightness seemed to grip at my throat, prohibiting me from drinking any tea furthermore. The crash of the front door made me jump out of my skin, heart racing as I hurried to the hallway, stopping in my tracks at the sight of my boyfriend. Except that he looked nothing like my boyfriend. Dripping wet from head to toe, black hair falling in his cold eyes menacingly, panting through his open mouth, something red tainting his white t-shirt and seemingly dripping down his forearm. The right sleeve of his leather jacket had been sliced open and I could see a red wound peeking through angrily. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to make sense of the situation, hands slightly trembling as Yunho’s eyes slowly drifted upwards, settling on my form. I had planned on telling him tonight that I was pregnant, that we were expecting a baby, but I wasn’t so enthusiastic about it anymore. I was…scared of the man standing in our hallway, in our, once, safe home.

“Yunho,” I whispered, trying to mask the fear in my voice, “what happened to you?”

Yunho said nothing as he kicked his shoes off, my body stiffening as I finally noticed what he held in his left hand. A knife. A knife coated in red. A bloody knife. My heart started racing as Yunho’s eyes never left my form as he advanced towards me, unknowingly backing me against the living room’s closed door, making me gasp. He smelled…like smoke and like iron, like blood. What had he done? Who was this man standing in front of me?

“I had to take care of some business.” My once beloved boyfriend’s voice was deep, eyes dead as he looked me all over the face, his jaw clenching, “Business you fucked up, apparently.”

“M—me?” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact when Yunho’s eyes sharply found mine. He chuckled, but it wasn’t amused, it sounded sarcastic and irritated.

“Yeah, you.” He hissed, closing the gap between our bodies, reflexively making me hold onto my tummy. I was too early on in the pregnancy to show, yet I was already oh so protective of my little fragile baby, “And it’s the last time this happens, understood?”

“I—I don’t understand—” I stilled when Yunho’s large palm caressed my cheek, just a remnant of how he once used to do it, “I don’t understand what I had done.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Yunho chuckled, sneering, “you are too dumb to understand. How about you change workplaces?”

“What?” I muttered confused, flinching when he gripped my jaw tightly, yanking me forward, “Why?”

“I wouldn’t want the police tracing back anything to me, you know?” Yunho mused, the look on his face anything like him. He looked almost crazed, he looked dangerous.

“Did you kill someone?” My voice was barely above a whisper as we stared into each other’s eyes, my heart almost beating out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe as Yunho remained silent, a small smile stretching onto his lips as if I had said something funny. But instead of an answer, he just pressed his damp lips against mine, almost making me jerk away from him. But he held me in a vice like grip and the door behind me stopped me from going anywhere. When I didn’t kiss back, he bit my bottom lip and forced my lips apart, pinning me against the door as his tongue slipped inside my mouth, bringing tears to my eyes.

Yunho wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with anymore. He was someone else, someone that resembled the devil and was capable of anything. And so I had realized I had to save myself and our baby before it was too late for the two of us, before Yunho did something horrible to us.

            And after that night, I ran away without even as much as glancing back, without having any regrets. I was scared that he’d try to find me, but he never reached out. I left a note on the fridge, in the kitchen, saying that I couldn’t do this anymore and that I was breaking up with him, starting anew. I moved towns, somewhere far away from him, to a city that was filled with life and so many people that even if he looked in every nook and cranny he still wouldn’t be able to find us. Hyeri, our little daughter, and I, that is. Who will be turning three years old today. Life had been…quiet ever since I decided that Hyeri and I would do just fine on our own. Except for my mother, nobody knew where I had moved to. I was too scared that our mutual friends would tell Yunho about our whereabouts, therefore I broke contact with everyone from my old life.

Here, in the big city, I was cautious of who I allowed close to myself and to my daughter, but so far I was lucky enough to only meet genuine and lovely people. Hyeri seemed to like it here too, the little girl growing quicker than I could wrap my mind around it. Soon, she’d be going to daycare. Our day was long due to the little birthday party I had thrown for her, only inviting over my mother, my best friend and colleague from work, Hyeri’s two friends she met at the playground a year ago, and well, the landlord of my previous apartment whom I had become friends with soon after moving here. He was a funny and considerate man, always eager to help me out. My mother kept saying he had a harmless crush on me and that I should give him a chance, but I wasn’t ready to date yet, and besides…my mother somehow missed the fact that he was gay and happily in a relationship.

After having tucked Hyeri in and cleaned the house as best as I could once everyone left, I finally had a moment to myself as I went back to the kitchen and opened the highest cabinet I could reach to grab a glass and my favorite brand of wine. I settled at the table and popped the bottle open, pouring myself an acceptable amount of wine, relaxing into the chair as I placed one leg up on it, hooking my arm around it. I closed my eyes and savored the almost sweet taste of the wine, sighing quietly and being thankful that it was finally the weekend. I could forget for two days about the massive workload I had at my job, papers upon papers pilling up on my desk, a constant reminder of how overworked I was while being underpaid. But I suppose that’s just how things seem to work nowadays. I must be thankful that I make enough to provide for myself and my lovely Hyeri, still.

As I let my head fall forward and rest on my knee, a floorboard seemed to creak in the hallway. Did Hyeri have another nightmare? Or was just the house settling? I listened closely, but I haven’t heard Hyeri’s door opening, so it couldn’t have been her. Suddenly, the hairs on my arms stood and my body froze, sensing danger before I could even see it. I shoot up from the chair when I heard the floorboards creak again, and prayed to God that it was just my best friend coming back, having left something here. She had a key, after all, she was allowed to let herself in without announcing that she was coming. However, the tall and sturdy figure standing in my kitchen’s doorway made my heart drop to my stomach, hand clenching tightly around the glass of wine I was still holding onto for comfort.

Jeong Yunho.

But how—I had escaped him. Forever. I ran away, I did everything, I—my thoughts kicked into overdrive as I realized Hyeri was just a few doors down, sleeping in her bed, unassuming of the monster standing inside our home. I had to protect her. I just had to. Yunho could never know, he could take me, he could kill me, but he would never touch my Hyeri.

“Fancy little house,” Yunho’s voice was just as deep as three years ago, perhaps deeper now, as his eyes scouted the place, “looks like the dream house you always told me about.”

I gulped, unable to respond as Yunho pursed his cherry-red lips, stepping further inside the kitchen. Strangely, his shoes were missing and so was his jacket. Blue jeans clung to his long legs, a little baggy, and a grey sweater warmed his torso, some university’s name printed on the front of it, his silver rosary hanging over it. Yunho looked like—the man I had once loved. Like the dream guy I thought I was lucky to score. But I knew who he was, what he hid underneath that sheep mask of his. There was a wolf underneath, a dangerous predator waiting for you to lower your walls, to let him in, to be vulnerable.

“What are you doing here?” I found my voice at last, when his fingers touched the petals of the flowers I had placed in a vase, in the middle of the round table I had in my kitchen. Those were my favorite flowers; the same ones Yunho would always buy for me.

“I was passing through the city,” Yunho explained, smiling a little as he noticed a picture of my mother and I stamped onto the fridge, “thought I could stop by and say hi.”

“No.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as my heart did somersaults against my ribcage, “No, you can’t—you just broke in, Yunho! I’m calling the cops—”

“It’s not called breaking in when you have a key.” I all but blanched as he grabbed some keys out of his pocket and dangled them towards me. My blood froze over, body going numb. How did he have that? Just how?! “And the cops won’t be doing anything, my dear—”

“Don’t call me that,” I all but almost shouted, forgetting for a second that I had a little child in the house, “Don’t—you can’t be here, Yunho. You have to get out, right now.”

The friendliness slipped from his face as his eyes darkened, slowly walking around the table, coming closer. I backed away from him, trying to aim for the door, but before I could make a run for it, his hand had already wrapped around my arm, yanking my body into his. I gasped, his once familiar cologne wafting through my nose as Yunho’s dark eyes focused on my face, the same chocolate color as they used to be. But they were cold again, just like three years ago. He really wasn’t the man I had once loved.

“Oh, Y/N,” He sighed, leaning down and nuzzling his head against my neck, nose pressing into my skin, “I have missed you so much.”

I was shaking, frozen to the spot, trying to come up with an escape plan. I would have to go to the police, I needed help. How did he find me?!

“Get off.” I whispered, hands gripping his arms to the point my nails dug through his sweater, “Yunho, let go of me!”

Yunho groaned, pulling back to grab me by the nape as he lowered his head to be eye-level with me. I glared at him fiercely as I tried to wrestle myself out of his hold, but he grabbed my right arm and flushed it against himself, pinning my arm to his back.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to find you?” He sounded amused, yet his expression conveyed annoyance, “Did you think you could hide from me?”

My chest was rising and falling quickly as my glare bore into his eyes, his glare just as menacing as mine, “Did you think you could end things like that between us?”

“Yes.” I hissed, fed up by always feeling so small and scared of him, “I left you. There’s no us anymore and there’ll never be, Yunho. You’re a—criminal! You’re not the man I fell in love with, and I have nothing to do with you anymore.”

“That’s not how a relationship works, my dear, we take that decision together.” Yunho snapped, his perfectly calm mask finally slipping as he seethed, jaw tense and a fire in his eyes, “I am still the same man you fell in love with, I’m just not afraid to show all sides of myself to you anymore, Y/N.”

“You tricked me.”

“I didn’t.”

Silence fell around us as we both breathed through our mouths, breaths mingling as our faces were close to each other. My cheeks were slowly flushing from the adrenaline that was coursing through my bloodstream, ears ringing as I started feeling helpless. I had to get away, I needed to get Hyeri and flee this place.

“You would’ve ran away if you knew who I truly was so early on, Y/N.” Yunho sounded defeated as he averted his eyes to the floor, finally releasing my arm he had pinned to his back, instead cradling my face with both hands as he walked me backwards towards the table. I gasped as the back of my thighs hit the sturdy surface, and I held onto Yunho’s sides, trying not to fall backwards.

“Yet I still ran away, Yunho.” I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat, “You scared me away. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“That’s a wish I can’t grant you, I’m sorry.” He licked his lips as his thumbs started caressing my cheeks, his chocolate brown eyes falling onto my lips. My heart seemed to stutter when he leaned closer, his eyes fluttering almost shut, and when he was mere centimeters away from my lips, he paused. I gulped, heart hammering in my chest as I gripped his wrists, his hold turning painful, “When were you going to tell me?”

It was merely a whisper, but with how close he was to me, I heard it crystal clear. I went rigid, suddenly fearing for my daughter’s and my own life again, “What are you talking about?”

When Yunho’s eyes shifted to the side, where the fridge was, and I followed with my own, I stopped breathing. We were both looking at the drawing made by Hyeri, a little girl standing in the middle, holding two women’s hands. Mine and my mother’s. They stood in front of a house, smiles on their faces and with a sun that was a little too big for the otherwise cute drawing. I have never felt dread up until that moment consume my whole being, and before I could stop myself, my eyes glassed over and I gripping onto the collar of Yunho’s sweater, trying to breathe regularly.

“Yunho, no—please—you can’t—”

“I can’t what?” He looked beyond furious, hands crushing my cheeks as a few tears rolled down the,, “She’s my daughter too.”

“No, please.” I tried not to sob, scared it would wake Hyeri, “You can’t—I—I won’t let you. You can’t hurt her. I won’t let you, Yunho, she’s mine—”

“She’s ours.” Yunho snapped, shaking me in the process, making me whimper as I grabbed onto his face.

“Please, Yunho, just leave—just leave us alone.” I begged him, flinching as he started wiping my tears away, almost with a fascinated look on his face.

“You were never going to tell me, right?” He asked in a whisper, suddenly looking very sad. My heart stilled and I felt bad, but then I had to remind myself that he had killed someone and that he had probably done so many worse things that I didn’t know about, and didn’t want to know about. I never truly knew who Jeong Yunho was, and I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t let him come back in our lives. He would ruin everything again.

“I—”

“Mommy?” Both Yunho and I froze, our eyes going wide before Yunho was letting me go, stepping back, looking shocked as his eyes quickly fell on his daughter. I quickly wiped my cheeks clear of tears and tried not to sniff as I turned to smile at our daughter, forcing myself to mask my distress.

“My love,” I chuckled, walking around the table to get to her, scared that Yunho would try to do something, “you’re awake?”

“Bad dream.” Hyeri whined as she rubbed at her eyes, giggling when I hastily picked her up. My heart was beating even faster than before as I tucked her head against my neck, shielding her view from Yunho, who was unresponsive as he stared at us wide eyed. I didn’t know how he’d react, and I was terrified. The resemblance between Hyeri and Yunho was unmistakable. She was an exact replica of Yunho with her round cheeks, freckles spreading around it, and pouty lips, even her eyes were the same light color as Yunho’s in the sunlight. Her temperament, too, was similar to Yunho’s. My daughter was a constant reminder of who I once used to love, yet I could never hold that against her. She was everything I have ever wished for, my light, my life.

When Yunho went to take a step towards us, I quickly backed away, walking out of the kitchen altogether, seemingly making him freeze. He gulped, eyes searching my face for something, but I was begging him to stay back and leave us alone. His hands balled up into fists at his side and I feared what would come next.

“Who is man?” Hyeri mumbled against my neck, peaking at Yunho with her eyebrows furrowed. Yunho and her shared a long look, and it broke my heart as Hyeri gave me an even more confused look than before, “Is he uncle?”

I could only hope she was too young to understand reality.

“No,” Hearing Yunho’s soft voice made me jump and caught Hyeri’s attention again, “just someone—who loves mommy and you.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying in front of our daughter and instead forced a smile on my face as Hyeri looked at me wonderingly, “Really?”

“Yes.” I answered her, my own voice sounding unsure and shaky, “Let’s go to sleep while this man leaves, alright?”

“Mommy,” Hyeri mumbled, looking at Yunho again, eyebrows furrowing, “can man tuck me in?”

“What—” I whispered confused, looking at Yeri with furrowed eyebrows, “no, he—”

“Please.” But Yunho’s pleading voice full with regret shut me up quickly as he slowly approached us, very reluctantly reaching his hand out to pet Hyeri’s fluffy hair, “Please.”

And when Yunho’s eyes found mine again, I was alarmed to see the man I had once fallen in love with. Desperate, begging with everything he could, yet reluctant to reach out. Just who was Jeong Yunho?

“Just this once.” I whispered, arms tightening around Hyeri as Yunho’s face lit up, eyes clearing of the tears he was holding back.

“Thank you.” He’s never looked so grateful before, and my eyes widened when he pressed a swift kiss against my lips, making Hyeri giggle in my arms. And before I could interfere, Hyeri was making grabby hands at Yunho, smiling brightly as he carefully took her in his arms, cradling his daughter against his chest like it was his most prized possession. Yunho’s eyes shone like they were the sun and I stood frozen as he walked towards her bedroom, Hyeri muttering things to him that I couldn’t hear.

What was I going to do now?

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[mayullla]

Title: Princess rescued by the hero

Character(s): Hero (Named character/original work)

Summary: A Hero arrived to save you yet you could not help but fear him more than the villain.

Tags/Warnings: Princess!reader, male!yandere, general yandere themes, implied manipulation, drabble: 680 words

It was a classic tale of a princess, a hero, and a villain. The princess was taken away from her home and family by the villain, only to be trapped within an old and dusty castle, and later saved by a hero.

You thought that they were just stories, nothing more.

Your captor was a man who knew how to use both dark magic and the sword. His subordinates were monsters and shadows that he created to rule over the kingdoms and nations. You wondered what you had done to catch the eyes of such a man, but in the end, there was always a hero.

Someone who would save you from the grasp of the wicked man…

"Thank you for saving me." It was hard for you to breathe as you stood in front of the ruined halls of the old castle and stared at the hero's face. The man who saved you placed a hand on his chest as he got down on one knee along with his team. You couldn't see his face as he looked down, bowing at you in a respectful manner. "You are now safe, princess."

Maybe it was best that you didn't see his face, you thought to yourself as you looked at the hero and his group.

You were still conscious of what happened in the fight. Your hands shivered at the thought when the dark lord turned into a dragon to kill the hero’s group, only to die at the hands of the hero who stabbed his sword into the monster’s chest.

You looked to your side to see the dead dark lord who took you away from your home, or what was left of him. He had turned into nothing but a burnt corpse consumed by the flames that he made.

The fight was still fresh in your mind, the spells that were cast on both sides from the dark lord himself and a wizard from the hero's group. Arrows flew at both sides in such a small space, and the crashes of swords still rang in your ears.

"What is your name? I need to know the hero who saved me." You spoke, holding on to whatever little pride you had. Holding yourself back from stuttering after everything you have gone through till now.

"My name is Vale," he said, his head still down. You didn't want to see his face. You were grateful truly that you were saved, and able to return home, but you could not help but become suspicious of the hero.

The hero who saved you was someone you feared.

"Thank you, Sir Vale, for killing the dark lord and saving me from him," you said as you lowered yourself down to take the man's hand, telling him to stand up and asking him if he was okay. “I will not forget you and your group's sacrifices.”

You didn't have any pity for the dark lord, for he was the one who destroyed homes and killed many. You weren't sympathetic to his death. But the moment when the hero stabbed the dark lord in the chest, the determined look on his face held something else.

You avoided the hero's eyes. Avoided looking at the blood splatter on his clothes. You could not help but wonder if there was something that you didn't know here. His eyes held a certain kind of insanity within them. The overconfidence of knowing that he would win as if this whole scenario was staged from the start.

A stage that was to reach a goal.

And you knew that this had something to do with you. When your eyes met his, you were sure of it as he held your hand tightly, warning but also clinging. The love in his eyes was crazed as he looked at you with so much passion. You were familiar with those eyes of his even before he became a hero, and tried to avoid him. Was he the one who created this stage, you wondered by yourself.

You were a fool, as you have placed yourself right on his hand.

[ween-kitchens]

this started as a little drabble for an au and suddenly it's 2k words oops

in summary, scar is a wizard who was cursed into a statue for millennia, and eventually became the 'secret keeper' because everyone would confide in it. gem was the first to ask scar how it was doing

gem must not have been paying nearly enough attention to where she was walking, because she has somehow found herself in the secret keeper's grove. not that she minds, but- she could have sworn she started walking the complete opposite direction when she left her house. either gem is way worse at directions than she thought she was, or.. well, okay, she can't actually think of another reason, but she wanted to sound spooky. maybe there's some magical fate that has led her to this very spot- or she just doesn’t know her lefts from her rights.

well, whatever reason it ends up being, gem is stood awkwardly beneath the face of the statue, its eyes shut and face relaxed as if asleep. the cracks and vines across its body looks almost like scars, and gem has to appreciate its beauty. she has, of course, heard all the myths about this statue being some- evil wizard who went around killing people left right and centre, and was eventually turned to stone as punishment. whilst she doubts these stories are anything more than fairytales, gem has to admit that it'd be pretty cool if that was actually the case.

resting against one of the stone pillars in front of the secret keeper's statue, gem looks into its face. centuries of people confiding their deepest thoughts to this stone monolith, decades of fears and secrets and accomplishments all told to the resting face of what may or may not be an evil wizard from millennia ago. it's another very interesting thing, gem thinks, about how people will reach for any sense of attachment they can get. maybe that's why the statue was created in the first place; there is something about its face that draws gem to it, in an odd kind of way. 

"you know, I don’t suppose many people have asked how your day is going." gem says aloud, almost startling herself—she hadn't expected to actually say that.

unsurprisingly, the statue doesn’t respond, but something in its face looks- almost curious. is she making that up? she's probably making that up.

"I hope it's good." gem keeps talking anyway, because she honestly doesn't have anything much better to do anyway. "and if it's not, I hope it gets better."

she shifts a little on the earth, getting comfortable. in this new position, gem is instead facing another stone pillar rather than the keeper itself. "you’re a very lovely statue. I imagine it gets boring around here, but I suppose you have a lot of gossip to keep you going."

there's a kind of rustling from beside her, and she chalks it up to a bird of some sort—she is in the woods, after all. although- it might be someone else on the way to the secret keeper. that might be a little embarrassing, if they stumble across her asking a statue questions about its day.

"were you really an evil wizard, or is that just a story?" gem says idly, picking at imperfections in her nail polish.

"oh- i’d say greatly exaggerated." comes an unfamiliar voice.

gem looks up and shrieks in surprise, jumping to her feet. she immediately stumbles, almost falling flat on her face as she processes who just spoke. "you- how the-" 

a figure is now across the glade from her, looking somewhat bemused as it brushes its white hair from its eyes. the shawl over its shoulders is embroidered with sunflowers, and looks as if it'd been worn for quite some time—what with the tears and holes in the fabric. scars run across every visible part of its skin, some akin to the cracks in old stone, and some resembling battle scars.

the secret keeper blinks at her from where it (he?) sits on the grass, underneath the empty gap where the statue used to be. "oh- yeah, long story." it grins, brushing itself off. "I don't suppose you've seen a pair of crutches around here?"

"I- definitely not." gem says, practically frozen in place. what in wrath- how the- the secret keeper is a person now?? "it's- are you-"

the secret keeper scoffs, and gem can’t tell if it's playful or frustrated. maybe both. "oh- they'll have taken them again, no doubt. that's fine- i'll have my revenge!" it calls to the sky, before turning back to gem. "thank you for helping me out there- they've always  enjoyed playing tricks on me like that."

"what- no, I didn’t-" gem starts to say, but the secret keeper interrupts.

"how long was I stone, by the way?" it asks, offhand.

"oh." gem hesitates. "I- I don’t know how to tell you this. um- it's been a while."

the secret keeper pouts, brushing some stray stone dust from its shawl. "has it been a month again? I have things to do, y’know!"

"it's, um. it's been a thousand years, I think." gem says softly. 

she expects a huge reaction—after all, if someone had told gem that she'd been stuck as a statue for millennia, she'd be pretty upset. god- she can't imagine what that would make her feel; losing everything and everyone you know to time, whilst you stay exactly the same.

the secret keeper blinks, drops the pout and shrugs. "could have been worse." it says, voice surprisingly cheery. "oh- I bet my crutches will have disintegrated, or something." it's grinning like this is funny and not just cause for an existential crisis.

"I imagine so, yeah." gem says, as if she's not about to start freaking out over literally everything that's happening right now. "you- what are you gonna do now?"

the secret keeper pauses, and gem feels a little worry in having actually stumped it. "I, uh. that's a good question."

"if you want, you can stay with me and my friend for a while?" gem suggests, hoping that joel won't mind her bringing home a reincarnated statue to live with them. in her defence, he’s done weirder. 

the statue in question snorts. "I hope you're ready to be killed several times over." it grins, and gem's stomach drops. it seems to notice the look on her face and tacks on, "you guys can kill me too."

gem probably looks like she's seen a ghost, based on how the secret keeper frowns a little in concern. "I- how am i supposed to kill you if i’m dead?"

"wh- 'cause you’d come back?" the secret keeper looks as confused as gem feels. "why wouldn't you?"

"what do you mean, come back? if I die that's it." gem grins. "you’re joking, aren't you?"

the secret keeper shakes its head, less confused and more concerned. gem cannot seem to understand what's happening here. "did you- were you not given the blessing?"

"I.. don’t know what you’re talking about." gem says, smile beginning to slip from her face. "what blessing?"

"you don’t- the one that lets you regenerate?" the secret keeper says, almost frantic. when gem doesn’t show any recognition, it continues. "from- when you die? is that- how do you not know?"

gem blinks. "is that a story from when people thought magic was a thing? i’ve never heard of it before."

the secret keeper stares at her. "magic is a thing. i’m- i’m magic. I just got turned into a human from stone- what do you mean magic isn't a thing?"

"that's- yeah." gem pauses. "so- wait, why would we not have that anymore?"

"wh- I have no idea!" the secret keeper throws its arms out. "it's such a simple thing to do- you give the blessing to your baby, and then it grows with the kid! it's perfect! you don’t have to worry about exploding them with too much magic, because it's always just the right amount!"

"that is smart." gem says. "that's so weird- how has that gotten lost?" she tilts her head to the side. "I suppose it has been a thousand years."

"okay, so- I won't kill you." the secret keeper says, and gem remembers what started this whole conversation. "since apparently you guys are mortal. would I still be allowed to come with?"

"'course." gem grins. "I did suggest it. uh- how will we do this?"

the secret keeper looks at her blankly. "well. I assume we'd walk. do you not do that anymore either?"

gem snorts. "no, we do, I just- you said you had crutches. which I assume you would need."

"ohh." gem suppresses another laugh as it seems the secret keeper has apparently completely forgotten about the crutches. "yeah, that's a good point actually."

"I could try carrying you." gem says, and the secret keeper quickly covers its mouth. "what?"

"nothing!" it says, unconvincingly; gem can hear the smile in its voice. she raises an eyebrow. "well- you’re quite a bit smaller than I am."

"wh- I can carry you!" gem says, mildly offended. "i’m strong!"

"I don't doubt that!" the secret keeper says. "but I could just use my magic."

gem pauses, processing. "wait- so why do you need the crutches?"

the secret keeper grins, and it's almost uncannily sharp. did it just laugh? for some reason, it sounded too high pitched. "it's a little exhausting." it says, and suddenly the smile looks normal again. huh. "I can’t do it all the time, or i’d just- pass out. for a short time though, i'll be alright if I rest."

"you can do magic? still?" gem says, suddenly excited to see it happen. she's sure joel can make crutches for it when they get back—that won't be a problem. "how does that even work?"

the secret keeper seems a little flattered by her interest. "i can’t see why I wouldn’t. I might look a little weird though—my skin goes blue, my hair goes white, that kind of thing."

gem tilts her head. "isn’t your hair already white?"

"what?" the secret keeper's eyes widen a bit, pulling a strand of hair in front of its face to inspect. something shifts in its expression. "oh." 

there's a stab of worry in gem's chest. if magic makes its hair go white and also exhausts it, what's going to happen right now? does- is there something that could happen? man, she does not know nearly enough about magic to answer any of those questions for herself.

before she can actually ask, the secret keeper just shrugs. "weird! anyway-"

it closes its eyes, apparently concentrating hard on something. the air in the grove seems to solidify, crackling with unseen energy, and gem can’t tell if she's holding her breath or if she simply can't breathe anymore. the secret keeper doesn’t react as it begins to rise off the floor, a blue sheen spreading from its fingertips throughout its whole body—scars whitening until they're essentially translucent. tattered wings unfold from its back, skin spread so thin, gem thinks a strong wind could tear them into pieces.

the secret keeper opens its eyes, and grins sharply, wings supporting its entire body. "ta da! how's that for magic, huh?"

gem laughs in delight, applauding it. what else is she meant to do in the face of that? "that was incredible! you can fly?"

"too right I can." the secret keeper beams, swelling with pride. "now, lead the way- uh. I don’t know your name, do I?"

"gem." she smiles, gesturing for the secret keeper to follow her as she begins to walk out of the clearing. "I don’t know your name either."

"well, gem, I am the one and only scar!" it announces, floating next to her. "named after my many- oh! oh- what!" 

gem looks over, slightly panicked, and sees it inspecting its arms. more specifically, the scars on its arms that gem had likened to cracks in stone. "are you okay?"

"I didn’t have these before." scar says, tracing them with its finger and nearly floating into a tree as it does so. "they look like-"

"cracks?" gem suggests, and scar nods. "yeah- I think, with how long you’ve been stone.." she trails off, a better explanation escaping her.

scar seems to understand regardless, nodding. "I guess. hey, that's kinda cool." it looks back up at her, grinning again. gem has to wonder why (and how) it's so pointy. "that's a story to tell at parties!"

"I- yeah, I suppose." gem says, slightly unconvinced. she's not sure how scar has managed to completely accept everything she's told it without a single panic attack, but she isn't sure if that's a good sign. she hopes that people from a thousand years ago were just way better at processing their emotions. "I think the whole stone thing is also something to tell at parties."

"oh yeah, you guys don't have magic." scar says. it scoffs. "you must be so boring."

gem makes an indignant noise, and scar laughs. "excuse you! we're not boring. you were stone for millennia- if anything, you’re the boring one."

scar is still laughing. "you say that like you didn't just stare at me while I transformed. i’m so cool."

"okay, i'll admit, you are cool." gem grins, and scar pumps its fist.

[cjonesjr]

・﹒・ i see you, you're beautiful

Summary: After living your entire life in a vault, you never got to experience any type of weather, only learned about it in school. So after raiders took control of your vault, you escaped to the surface and come across a ghoul who you immediately became fascinated by. After some time adjusting in the Wasteland, it started raining one fateful day and you couldn't help but enjoy it.

Warning: 18+, fluff

Pairing: The Ghoul x GN!vaultie!reader

Notes: Just a short drabble inspired by a thunderstorm last night

At first you didn't notice it, then it happened a second time, and the third you knew something was falling on you. But when you looked at your hand, there was nothing. The Ghoul must have caught your confusion and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Huffing, you then started to feel more of...whatever that was, finally realizing that it was coming from the sky. Turning your head up, you saw the dark clouds that were present earlier right above you, then it clicked right as the cowboy spoke.

"That's rain, Vaultie. Did they not teach you down there?" He was making fun of you, causing you to huff as the raindrops grew in frequency quickly, now starting to feel them all over your body. Smiling, you ran ahead of him as the water dropped faster and even more, now getting completely wet. But it felt so nice, in the vault there wasn't any weather, it was kept at a comfortable and controlled temperature at all times.

Spreading your arms out, you felt the rain on your hands and then wanted to feel more of the coolinv liquid on your skin. Not caring of what the ghoul thought- you quickly unzipped your vault suit and took the sleeves off, pulling it down to rest on your waist. Spreading your arms out again, you started to laugh and twirl around, closing your eyes and head up to face the sky. It felt so much nicer than a shower, so much more...freeing, in a way. After a few spins, you lowered your head and opened your eyes to find Cooper staring at you.

"Join me!" You yelled, wishing he would dance with you.

"You can have your fun, I'm not lookin' for a shower" He started to turn towards the nearest abandoned house when you grabbed onto his hands and dragged him with you.

"Hey!" You laughed at his disgruntled self, mumbling as he let you drag him and spin him around. He didn't seem mad though as he didn't try to get away- just a bit annoyed, which you'll take given his track record. You then looked up again and closed your eyes, letting the rain hit your face again.

"Don't you see it, Ghoul? Isn't it beautiful?"

"I see you, you're beautiful"

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— SCREAM (YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IT’S HALLOWEEN)

SUMMARY : it’s Halloween and it’s also your birthday, and Dean’s made a lot of promises about how it was gonna be the best night ever.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, fluff, tiny bit of choking, nipple orgasm

WORD COUNT : 3.4k

A/N : happy Halloween (if you celebrate) !!! title from avenged sevenfold and muse song. my sister convinced me to write this LOL. this is pretty much a Drabble, lol, leaving it open ended basically, you’ll see why… (also, when I write I pretty much assume everyone’s watch Supernatural at least once.. I never put any spoiler disclaimers bc I forget… lol but, yeah. pretty much everything I write will mention something from any and all seasons) XX

The Bunker was chilly this Halloween night, and for the first time in years, Y/n and the Winchesters weren’t tangled up in a hunt. The monsters, for once, didn’t take advantage of the holiday to get away with their usual tricks and modes of preying.

To be fair, their numbers had dwindled significantly since Jack became ‘God’ or whatever the hell happened. Hunting wasn’t nearly as hard as it was before, as if even monsters had free-will bestowed upon them. As if they’d chosen a better life rather than one in which they are hunted and killed.

Good for them. Everyone wins.

The only prey tonight is Y/n, but as far as she’s concerned the running is only part of the fun, and getting caught wasn’t something she’d hate.

As she breathed erratically and ran as fast as her platform heels could carry her across the concrete floor of the Bunker, her heart raced as if she were on any other hunt. But what made this hunt different was the spark of excitement that tingled up her spine and the flush of her bare skin.

She stopped at the kitchen and caught her breath momentarily, looking around the place as everything flashed red. To add to the thrill, mostly. She walked on shaky legs to the refrigerator and took out some water to drink it quickly. As she swallowed down a fair amount, she could feel the cold water travel down to her stomach and she sighed as her thirst and the dryness in her throat disappeared.

After about twenty minutes of hiding and running away, she was on high alert, her senses were heightened, and she could easily hear his footsteps—even over the alarm Dean had set off in the Bunker to scare her even more.

She quickly made her way out of the kitchen after setting the half-empty water bottle on the metal counter, checked both ways and began making her way into the dungeon, wondering if maybe Dean was there. If he could just catch her already, the dampness of her lace panties wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Especially since she could easily feel it with the cool air inside the concrete walls of her temporary home.

Much to her disappointment, Dean wasn’t anywhere to be found in the dungeon or anywhere around there. Even if he’s the one that’s supposed to be looking for her, she just wanted to know what would happen once she was caught by him.

Besides, her feet were starting to ache, her legs were practically turning to jelly at this point, and her sweat was starting to feel uncomfortable. It didn’t sound very sexy to her, but she knew Dean would still jump her bones despite that. It was a nice feeling, to be loved… by him specifically.

She had to wonder if he was even trying.

Just forty minutes ago, he had texted her to take her clothes off and to wear the lingerie set he’d placed in Sam’s room for safekeeping. It had been in Cas’ room before that, but once Sam left to be with Eileen, Dean placed the white box on Sam’s bed. A huge, royal blue bow glittered in the middle of the boring room, perfectly positioned on the box with her name and a sexy note from Dean promising to make it the best birthday ever.

She’d waited in Dean’s room excitedly in the light blue lingerie and when he’d made his way to her, she couldn’t believe what he had in mind, what his plan was. He had some heels in his hands and she gaped up at the Ghostface mask that covered her boyfriend’s handsome face. He was covered from head to toe in a thick black robe, laughed at the look on her face, and got down to put her heels on her.

“How’s that, sweetheart?” He asked, his deep and hot voice muffled behind the mask.

“Uh,” she tried, then just decided to stand up and moved her legs around a bit to test the comfort. She nodded and he tugged her towards him, the smooth and cool material of his robe brushing against her soft and warm skin. She could feel every inch of him, and wondered momentarily if he was completely naked underneath, but instead of asking him flirtatiously, she just gasped.

She stumbled backwards for a few steps when he began to walk forward with her still in his arms. She chewed on her bottom lip when he had her pressed against the wall. She could see his green eyes through the thick black cloth that covered his eyes, the way they were looking down at her with so much amusement. If she had to go by those crinkles by his eyes, she had to guess he had the hottest, smuggest look on his face.

And he’d be right to.

He lifted her leg up slowly, held her knee by his hip, and squeezed her closer to him by her waist. Her heart raced at the sight of him and she felt wetness grow between her legs when he slotted his hips between hers.

All the while, she just clung to his arms, staring up at him in surprise and completely aroused by his calculated movements. Even her breaths had gotten irregular and he hadn’t said or done much of anything, but that was the effect of Dean Winchester.

“Run,” he murmured deeply, releasing her before stepping away.

She blinked up at him, “uh, what?”

He looked away, laughed softly, and grabbed her wrist. She chewed on her lip and let him spin her around gracefully. With a nice slap on her ass, he repeated the word ‘run’ much more sternly than before. She looked at the hallway in front of her in surprise, then looked down at herself in lingerie, then back over her shoulder at him in his costume.

He jerked his head to the left, quietly telling her to go.

And that’s why she was running now. They were half-assed attempts most of the time, but when she spotted him behind her, she felt her stomach flutter, and started to break out in a thrilled sprint across whatever room she was in to get away from him. When he chased her, the small hairs on her body raised above her skin, a shudder of excitement ghosting up her spine. It was way too fun to end the game, but getting caught piqued her interest, too.

Dean wouldn’t just start this whole game only for it to end at the capture. No, he was far too creative and way too frisky for that. He had something in mind, something mind blowing, some big treat at the end regardless of the outcome of this chase. That much she knew.

She made her way out of the dungeon, speed walking through the halls, checking her surroundings. At this point, she was considering the removal of her heels. They were very sexy, but definitely not ideal for running. Also, they practically announced her location with each click on the concrete floor, despite her efforts to walk awkwardly in attempts to muffle the sounds.

She had already checked the infirmary, the library, kitchen, bathroom, shooting range. She basically paid a visit to every room in the Bunker and had no luck in bumping into Dean in any of those places.

She thought about what to do about the heels as she went to the one place she hadn’t checked—the garage, where Dean’s favourite sexy, old cars remained. They were perfect for hiding in. Of course, Dean could be waiting to pounce on her from within any one of them, if he was looking through each room. She hoped for the latter, it would give her feet some rest from the painful running. She simply couldn’t walk in heels this tall for very long.

She quietly made her way up the stairs to stand at the entrance of the garage when the alarms stopped and the lights flickered off. She cursed softly under her breath, but Dean already gave his location away by shutting off the loud noises and distracting lights.

Once she slowly set foot deeper into the garage, she quickly scanned around the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She walked to the end of the garage where the black Bentley S2 was and looked around one last time with her hand on the door handle before sneaking inside the backseat of the vehicle.

The leather squeaked beneath her bare skin as she slid across and shut the door once she was inside. She wiggled around to lay down over the beige seat and relaxed at last. Bending her knee, she lifted her leg up to finally remove the heels. Mentally, she apologised to Dean when she took them off.

She lowered her legs and groaned when she looked at the tiny space between the backseat and the front seat. It wasn’t nearly as big as the Impala’s, really rather small, way too small for her to slip between comfortably on her back. If she were on her side… but no, that was out of the question.

She rolled her ankles, stretched her legs, bent them… She did everything until the aches in her legs mostly disappeared. And, wow, she could fall asleep right about now. Except there was a loud bang from something in the garage that made her jump, one of her hands immediately flying to her mouth to contain her hysterical laugh and a yelp.

“I know you’re in here,” Dean taunted nearby. She removed her hand to smile curiously and raised a brow. She wished she could sink into the car seat right about now, but also wanted to lift herself up to see him, but decided against it. Instead, she waited as he looked through every car, every second feeling like a lifetime and yet when he gently pushed against the car she was in with a loud bang, she shouted.

His chest was heaving, his gloved hands were placed on either side of the door where her feet were and she started to laugh instead.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted in a raspy tone, his voice slightly muffled behind the mask. He proceeded to open the door of the car and she sat up, her heart thumping excitedly when he peeked inside and saw her feet covered only in the white thigh highs. “Your feet okay?” He asked, then grasped her ankle, she barely nodded when he tugged her roughly towards him by her foot.

She quickly gripped the seat as the leather squeaked against her ass, heating up her sensitive skin. “Ow,” she chuckled, echoing his own apologetic laugh. He grabbed the seat and leaned inside, his other hand slid up her calf to grab behind her knee. She licked her lips and her face flushed as he parted her legs. Wetness pooled between her thighs, her clit pulsed at the ideas running through her head, instantly becoming aroused as he climbed inside the car, settling into the spot between her legs.

She reached out for his robe and tugged him forward. He reached up and brushed her soft strands of hair away from her shoulder, then let his hand slide to the nape of her neck to grip on it. She pushed out her chest, silently begging for his eyes to drop down and admire her. “You caught me…” she trailed off, feeling a tingle run down her spine when his gloved fingers brushed against her scalp.

“I did…” he teased, tugging her hair. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching to shut when she felt the pressure in her skull run dully to her clit.

The darkness made everything better. She could hear his breathing, her own just as quick as his.

“Are you ready for your first birthday gift?” He asked, disappointingly untangling his fingers from her hair to slide his gloved fingers teasingly down her neck, to the strap of her bra.

She shivered and bit her lip, felt her nipples tightening against the lace of her bra as her fingers slid down the front of her strap. “I thought this morning… with the crepes and with the way that you—”

“Well, this is gonna be your first gift of the night,” he interrupted her, sounding smug. Slowly, Dean slid his hand beneath the strap to drag it off her shoulder, and kept his hand there to push her down onto her back.

“How many gifts do you have for me?” She asked, watching him tilt his head thoughtfully.

“How old are you?” He asked rhetorically as he lifted her thighs above his.

She stared at the mask covering Dean’s face with confusion, then it twisted into incredulity. The soft material of his gloves slid up her sides teasingly, then right back down to playfully snap the garter she was wearing against her soft skin.

“You look so fucking hot, baby,” he groaned, hands sliding slowly over her belly, up her ribs, then coming together over her lace-covered breasts. He squeezed them playfully, felt her thighs become tense against his, and heard her breath hitch softly. “Was that fun?” He asked quietly, pulling the cup of her bra down, she inhaled shakily and whispered a ‘yes’.

Gently, he brushed his thumbs around her nipples, one uncovered and the other still safe inside the lace cup. Still, she felt a tingly sensation spark up on her breasts and between her legs. She murmured his name and arched her back slightly, reaching between her legs to grab his waist.

“I haven’t made you cum like this enough times, have I, sweetheart?” He gently rolled her nipples between his fingers and pinched them, slowly teasing, building up the arousal. She looked at him, face covered in a mask, but there was something so arousing about the darkness, the car, his hands on her chest, the material of his gloves creating a perfect sensation… about wearing the lingerie he bought for her, hearing his ragged breaths moggling with hers, occasional gasps and quiets moans filled up the backseat.

“We never have time…” she agreed, dazed with the yearning. She squirmed, wanting to feel more, but instead of removing his gloves he lowered the other cup and played with them both, used the same techniques to erect them and make her feel desperate, kindling her orgasm.

“Please,” she moaned, fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging up.

“What?” He asked softly, playfully exasperated by her grip. He knew what she wanted as she searched for the edge of the cuff and began tugging downwards.

“I want to feel you,” she murmured, thumbs gently brushing over his pulse point where she could feel his heartbeat thrumming swiftly against the pads of her fingers.

“I thought you liked the feeling like this…” he murmured, removing one hand from her chest and sliding the other upwards to teasingly squeeze her neck. He teased her clit over the lace of her underwear with gloved fingers, her breath catching and barely moving past his gentle grip on her neck.

The teasing didn’t last and neither did the fuzzy breathlessness of his grip on her neck. He removed his gloves quickly and ghosted his fingers sensually up her body again, showing her the feel of his warm, calloused hands on her flushed skin.

She hummed softly, almost a pur, and placed her smaller hands above his, squirming as she attempted to hurry his hands. He only laughed at her attempts, ignored her little whine, and slid his hand under the baby blue bra. He lifted the lacey bra up her chest slowly, so the lace would teasingly brush against her sensitive nipples, and then made an arch over her cleavage.

Her gently used his thumbs to rub the underside of her breasts first, building up the feeling of his warm palm before cupping her breasts. With a gentle squeeze of her breasts, he murmured little praises to her, and tapped around her nipples.

She wiggled impatiently, her excitement growing by the second, heat rising from head to toe like conduction from the warmth of his teasing fingers. The little taps slowly moved inwards, it was gentle, and felt so good, but she wanted more. No amount of squirming from her made Dean accelerate his touch, minute by minute, he kept with the same technique, and finally switched to rubbing her nipple, pinching, twisting..

“More, Dean…” she whined, feeling irritated at being on the edge of her orgasm, like a wave that never came.

“Like what?” He asked playfully, tweaking her nipples to shut her up half way through her ‘fuck you’. Her knees pressed into his sides needily, her back was arched again and he rolled his eyes in amusement when she reached up to his face to pull off the mask. “Tell me first,” he murmured, leaning backwards, getting away from her hands.

“I need…” she laughed softly, “your mouth.”

“Good girl,” he praised tenderly, moving one hand away from her breast.

He moved the mask out of the way with one hand and leaned down over her body to flick his tongue against her nipple a few times. Her knees pressed harder into his sides and she moaned loudly, hands sliding into the hood of his cloak to grip his hair tightly. He wrapped his lips around her nipple, teeth pressing roughly around her flesh, tongue lapping at the hardened bud, and made his cheeks hollow as he sucked harshly, pinching her other nipple roughly with his hand.

Finally, she orgasmed, groaning out a long fuck as she shivered and pulled his face closer to her chest. It wasn’t nearly as intense as if he’d stimulated her clit or any of the spots inside her vagina, but it felt amazing nonetheless.

He smirked against her chest and waited for her body to relax before he pulled away from her chest with an obscenely wet sound and lowered the mask again. He rubbed her hips comfortingly and squeezed her flesh.

“You’ve got some real talent with that tongue of yours and those fingers,” she told him breathlessly, sitting up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“That was more than clear to me this morning,” he agreed with a laugh, gently running his hand up and down her back. “Hold onto me, sweetheart,” he ordered suddenly and wrapped an arm around her waist. She clung to him a little tighter and wrapped her arms around his waist as he made his way out of the backseat of the car.

When he stood straight, rather than setting her down, he kicked the door close—abandoning her heels inside, and began to walk toward the exit of the garage. He turned after a few metres and set her down onto the cold hood of the pale green car. She hissed softly at the coldness of the metal against her skin and let go of him to stare so the confusions into the darkness where Dean was standing.

“Can’t carry me anymore?” She teased, biting her lip.

“You’re really gonna be mean to me?” He snorted, dropping his hands to her thighs to play with the little, light blue bow on her long socks.

“No…” she pouted, reaching out for his hips to bring him closer. “I need you..” she whispered needily, feeling uncomfortably wet. He quietly unclipped the garter from her socks, gently trailed his fingers above the soft hem of them to get to the other side and do the same. Excitement began creeping up in her again and she bit her lip.

Languidly, he slid his hands up her thighs, snapped the waistband of her underwear and trailed his fingers over her pelvis. He hooked his finger under her underwear, felt wetness as he brushed past her folds, with a little moan, he pulled her underwear to the side and thumbed between her folds to gently brush against her clit.

She gasped quietly, her arms shook the longer he teased her. Torturously, he lowered her underwear and let them stay around her parted knees. She slowly lowered herself onto her back with his hand on her ribs pushing her backwards gently.

He lifted her feet to lay fat on top of the car, staring down at her silhouette, clearly making out her lingerie. She parted her legs as far as she could with the underwear around her knees. His fingers ghosted along the inside of thighs, as he kneaded her thighs, he murmured, “one down…”

➥ standing next to you

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[bump1nthen1ght]

Made For Love (Incubus x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Sex worker!Incubus x GN!Reader

Warnings: Explicit content ahead! (18+ ONLY), Loss of Virginity, Spanking, Unsafe Sex (wrap it before you tap it folks)

Word Count: 2098 words

Summary: Sick and tired of waiting, you decide you’re ready to finally lose your virginity. Lucky for you, a friend of yours has a tantalizing suggestion on how to do so…

A/N: Ok so this was ORIGINALLY supposed to be a short drabble ( <1000 words) for Kinktober, but as y’all can tell I went into a writing frenzy and it became a full fic. Please forgive any typos, as the horniest muse ever possessed me as I typed and edited this and I’m too impatient not to post it lol. Hope y’all enjoy!

(P.S. Sex Work is Work and all sex workers deserve to be treated with respect. Do not necessarily take this fic as a completely accurate depiction of how sex work is performed. Nevertheless, enjoy some sweetness)

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

The motel room you find yourself in is surpisingly homely. The flickering overheads have been turned off and replaced by soft lavender fairy lights strung around the bed frame. Cheap and stiff blankets have been neatly folded and put away in the closet, the bed now decorated with a big fluffy duvet and several plush pillows. Some candles have been lit and placed on the nearby desk.

“It's Joranez, right? Want to make sure I’m saying that correctly.”

“That’s right, but you can call me Jora, darling.” He winks, taking hold of both your hands, holding them to his chest. The action isn’t very intimate, but it can’t help but send a hot blush across your face. Jora is stunningly attractive, his silken hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His purple skin is flawless, shiny just like his horns, which curl and twist upwards. His smile is charming, sharp canines seeming so friendly despite everything.

“Is this okay?” Jora whispers, rubbing a thumb across the back of your palm. You nod, letting your fingers unfurl and touch the bare skin of his chest. “Do you remember the safe words, the ones in the email?”

“Y- yes. Lime for go, strawberry for stop.” You take a deep breath. “A-and banana for slow down.”

A clawed hand runs across your cheek, goosebumps running down yiur heck as Jora draws even closer. His breath brushes across your face, his yellow eyes glowing in the low light. Even though he’s a stranger, you can’t help but feel very safe.

“Good pet. Now, shall we get started?”

—

Jora had been recommended to you by a mutual friend, one of your best friends actually; Rory. She worked nights at a sex hotline and Jora often took shifts there during the drier months of the year. From what she had told you he was highly requested and had great reviews, known for perfectly crafting whatever mood or scenario his customers wanted. You had asked if it would be weird, sleeping with someone she knows so personally, but Rory had quickly quieted your fears. If anything it was better, as she knew you’d be in great hands and she was often quite protective.

So Rory gave you his work number and you scheduled the appointment to lose your virginity.

Given how you’re feeling right now, you think you made the right decision.

“You make such beautiful noises, dear.” Jora whispers in your ear, his long tongue licking up your trembling neck. “I’d love to hear more.”

He gets his wish, a moany breath leaving as he scissors his fingers inside of you, pads pressing hard on your outer walls. He chuckles, a warm sound that only makes your body hotter.

How easily he was able to undo you. You lay naked in his lap, legs spread wide and chest heaving with each breath. Sweat drips down your collarbone and your skin feels on fire, every soft touch and caress leaving tingles across your body. The duvet provides just enough purchase for you to dig your fingers into, still too shy to yank on Jora’s open robe.

The pleasant ache as Jora stretches you open on his finger was far better than you imagined, probably far better than some random hookup would have provided you. Starting with one, now two, he’s somehow slowly unraveled your senses. Now you sit as a putty ball of pleasure in his lap, all for him to treat.

Guess I’m a sub. You joke in your head, though you already had a suspicion before this. Or maybe Jora is just such a master of control that anyone falls to their knees in front of him. It wouldn’t surprise you.

“How about three?” Jora whispers in your ear, waiting for your timid nod before sinking a third finger inside you. He splays them out, stretching out your walls before resuming to thrust. Black and white spots speckle behind your eyelids, that burn in your gut only growing hotter. “So good pet, you’re doing fantastic.” Jora plants a soft peck on your temple, his free hand rubbing affectionate circles into your hips. Said hips jerk and spasm on his digits, desperate for more.

“I t-think…” You whimper, somehow still shy as this incubus is literally inside of you. “I think I’m ready for you c-cock.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jora teases, flexing his fingers again. “I think so too, lovely.”

Jora is slow and methodical as he pulls his fingers out of you, gently coaxing your hips to flip you around. Your shaky legs straddle his lap, Jora giving another gentle kiss to your lips. He grinds against you, getting a squeak and a shiver.

Jora begins to sit up, pushing you onto your back and adjusting for missionary position, but you stop him with hand to his chest.

“Actually, could we do Doggy style?” You request, somehow not stuttering your way through it.

Jora’s eyes widen, but its accompanied by a delighted smirk.

“Of course.”

With another gentle press to your hips, Jora flips you onto your stomach. A strong palm smoothes down your lower back, arching it into his hips as he adjusts himself. You can hear the sound of the lube bottle as Jora gets more, rubbing it over your entrance. A heated presence presses up against your hole, throbbing and slick. Even without seeing it, you can tell Jora is quite well endowed.

“Tell me if it hurts to much, okay dearie?”

You give a simple “uh-huh.”, trying to decide if you want to shove your face in the covers or stare into the void of the motel room.

Your brain decides for you, biting your lip and clenching your eyes when Jora finally begins to slide in you.

It doesn’t hurt, thank goodness, but it is a little…unusual. It’s a fullness where you didn’t even realize there was emptiness. As Jora goes further, you get the stretch in places you've never reached before, not with fingers or even a dildo. The unexplored is extra sensitive, your hips spasming as Jora eventually bottoms out inside you. He swivels his hips, the head of his cock brushing against something that feels amazing.

A clawed hand rubs your scalp, reaching down to pat your cheek. You can feel Jora’s body heat as he leans his chest closer, his robe rolled down his shoulders to expose his bare skin. “How does that feel?”

“Good.” You mutter, digging your face half into the covers. The noises bubbling in your throat are so whiny, so debauched, you can’t help but try to tamp them down. “You can m-move. Slowly.”

“Of course, dear.”

Jora sits up, grabbing gently onto the fat of your hips. The bed shifts as he pulls out halfway, before gently thrusting upward. You gasp, a strange sensation shooting up your stomach. Jora chuckles, pulling back slowly again. That emptiness feels wrong now, it feels incomplete.

“Faster, p-please.”

Jora must nod, though you didn't see it. His fingers dig into your sides, not enough to even leave a mark, and he begins humping in earnest.

Those noises you tried to suppress become impossibly loud, even in shaky breaths and moans. Bed springs squeak underneath you, the slap of Jora’s hips against yours sending a hot sensation down your legs. It's so lewd, but it feels so right.

“You feel amazing.” Jora moans. “Such a tight hole, all for me.” Jora speeds up a bit, met with your eager hips throwing backwards on his cock. “And a pretty face on top.”

All you can do is bite your lip, feeling a hit blush as Jora lavishes you with compliments. His pelvis pounds against your ass, toned muscle meeting the plush flesh. Jora begins to fondle the fat, giving it a light pat, holding back for your sake.

“Please slap my ass.” You whine, getting an extra eager thrust from Jora in response. You can’t see it, but you’re sure he’s smirking.

“You’re wish is my command.”

Jora’s palm meets the skin with a resounding slap, enough to jiggle your cheeks and surely to leave a mark, but you doubt it’s as hard as he can go.

“H-harder, please.”

Jora hums, rubbing the spot he just hit.

“Surprisingly naughty, aren’t you?” This time Jora reels back his hand and gives you a proper spank, enough to send your lower half forward. You weren’t quite sure what to expect, but you didn’t realize how good the stinging could feel. “I love it, you want some more?” Jora gyrates his hips, pressing his cockhead to the very deepest parts of you.

“Yes, yes!” You barely reocgnize your voice, keening and desperate. The moans as Jora slaps your ass again are depraved, downright erotic. He switches hands and slaps your other ass cheek, taking a moment to squeeze and fondle the fat afterwards. He begins to alternate his slaps, using the other hand to hold onto your hips and yank you back onto his cock. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he’s picked up the pace, each thrust reaching your guts at a quick speed. You can hear the slap of Jora’s balls as they hit your underside.

“You’re so gorgeous.” Jora purrs, voice so composed you wouldn’t even realize’s he’s blowing your back out. “Don’t you want to see yourself?”

Jora must see your brows furrow, cause he leans down and tilts your jaw forward. “Look up, dear.”

Opening your hazy eyes, you notice a full-length mirror in front of you both. It hadn’t been there before, or so your cock-drunk mind remembers, and you wonder if Jora had moved it in place with some minor magic. He was an incubus, after all.

But those thoughts come second to seeing how unraveled your look. Your face is flushed, sweat beading on your forehead. Your back is so arched you can see the way your ass jiggles with every thrust. Not to mention Jora, whose pony is slowly coming undone, looking like a literal Adonis. His sultry gaze burns in to you, toned chest and abs flexing with his humps. He had been so sweet at the beginning, but it seems your naughtiness has drawn out his mischievous side; He wears a big smirk, biting his lip and admiring the naughty picture you make in the mirror.

“See? Just as I told you-” Jora gives a particularly hard thrust and stars shoot across your vision, “-gorgeous.”

Your entire lower half feels lit up, a faint buzz going all the way down to your toes as your abdomen grows tighter and tighter. It’s so similar yet so different from when you’ve masturbated before. The coming climax feels hotter, more explosive, like a high you’ve only dreamed about.

Jora can tell, either with his specially-tuned senses or by the way your hole clenches. “Close, love?”

All you can do is nod, tongue lolled out with a mind too far gone. You’re thankful Jora had the wherewithall to ask where you’d like him to come at the start, as you have no way of giving an answer now.

“That's right, cum for me. I want to see you.”

That’s all it takes, the knot splitting in an instant as you come with Jora’s cock deep inside you. You can see him clench his eyes shut as your hole milks him, just pulling out in time to cum all over your back.

The next few minutes are a bit hazy. Your legs had collapsed under you, your brain thoroughly cock drunk and trying to reboot. Jora, ever the professional, quickly recuperated. He rubbed soft circles into your lower back, leaning over to get some cleaning wipes. You vaguely remember him flipping you onto your back, tilting your chin up and giving you some water. The sensation of the back of his knuckles, brushing along the side of your face comes to mind as you sipped.

“Good dearie.” Jora gives you a peck in the cheek. “You did so well, love. I’m happy I was able to share this with you.”

Jora is sweet and leta you take plenty of time to rest and come back to yourself, giving you another kiss and his card on your way out.

“If you ever want to be naughty again, love.”

You walked out with a tired yet enthusiastic pep in your step.

You definitely owe Rory one.

[redroomreflections]

Our Little Family - The Loud House Drabble

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: a direct response to Thread of A Promise. Natasha and R reflect on how far they've come a few years into the future.

The Loud House can be read on a03

note: a friend requested this so y'all can thank them for that.

tw: mention of child loss

Sometimes, you try not to think about it too much. You try to push that morning to the back of your mind. It's been years—three to be exact. You’d woken up to your worst nightmare and the deepest heartache you’d ever experienced. These days, it's a bit easier to bear.

With the loss of your child, you gained clarity. You knew what was important, who was important. You poured all your energy into volunteering, spending more time working with children in any capacity you could. You and Natasha became foster parents. Children have come and gone from your home, and you’ve loved and cared for them all the same.

Now, you have Cara. She’s the light of your life and the sassiest little preteen you could have ever asked for. Her adoption went through just a few months ago when you got another call for respite care. With Willow back in Atlanta, the sound and pitter-patter of little feet is missed. Of course, you jumped at the chance.

James and Charlotte are like breaths of fresh air. They fit right in. Charlotte is three and spunky. James at barely fifteen months old is still developing his little personality. 

 Mostly, he enjoys clinging to you and Natasha. He still has so much time to explore the world. Getting the kids into a routine is a feat. It's only been a few weeks since they've been home and their future is uncertain. Which causes a touch of anxiety for the ever-perceptive Charlotte.

Tonight, she'd thrown her first epic temper tantrum, kicking and screaming for what seemed to be no reason at all. Of course, you could probably pinpoint a few things. You'd had a work meeting that ran over a little too long. Natasha was stuck in traffic after training and therefore came home a little late after dinner.

You tried your best. You read her a bedtime story and gave her a little more warm milk. Still, she threw the bottle across the room. That in turn startled James who had been feeling a bit insecure on his own. Natasha had stepped in to see the tail end of things. She didn't ask questions. She rolled up her sleeves and got down to business. She carried Charlie into the bathroom to get started on a bath. Charlie mostly clung to Natasha as she watched the bubbles form in the water.

Meanwhile, you got James undressed too hoping that a bit of skin-to-skin would calm him down. He was all red-faced and teary-eyed as you walked toward the bathroom. Your frustration dwindled when you saw Natasha and Charlie standing beside the tub, both dipping their hands in and trying out the bubbles. Charlie still had a few tears streaming down her face along with hiccups but even she couldn't help but laugh at Natasha's antics.

She blew a few bubbles, then tried to pop a few of them, and she had a look of pure concentration on her face. It's so adorable, you can't help but watch.

"Can you tell me why you were sad, Charlie?" Natasha asked as she stood next to the little girl.

"Um, I wanted you," Charlie stuttered."I wanted you to come home." She swiped a hand across her cheeks. "To be with me."

Natasha nodded, then looked to you."Why didn't you use your words and tell Momm-y/n?" Natasha corrects herself. It's habit she's so used to talking to Cara. She doesn't want to force it on Charlie. The little girl could use whatever title she saw appropriate. "We've been practicing."

Charlie shrugged."'Cause...I don't know."

"Because you were afraid or sad?"

Charlie's bottom lip jutted out and she nodded."Yeah."

"I'm here now. And y/n did her very best," Natasha said softly, her eyes flickering to yours for a moment. You're standing with James tucked against your chest. "I'm sorry you were feeling bad. I know how you like our routine just as it is."

"And baby brother was crying too and it was so loud," Charlie pointed out. Even though she was partly to blame for his crying. You would never tell her that.

"He gets upset when his schedule is thrown off," You said."We should've made sure to keep it together. We'll do better next time, right Nat?"

"Yes, we will," Natasha promised. She helped Charlie step into the bathtub. Meanwhile, James refused to be put down. He whimpered when you tried to set him onto his feet.

"Okay, okay," You sighed."I guess you're staying with me, little man." You bounced him on your hip and pressed a kiss to his temple. He settled after that. You watched Natasha bathe Charlie. Eventually, he calmed enough for you to include him in the bedtime ritual. Tonight though you knew the kids needed a little more loving.

With them all dressed and moisturized, you turned on their favorite lullaby music. The nursery housed the crib and Charlie's bed. After a lot of trial and error, you realized they slept better being in the same room. Charlie was protective of her brother and often wanted to be with him. This was the compromise. Eventually, during this little routine, you and Natasha switched children. The heavier weight of Charlie was comforting as she rested her head on your shoulders. She sucked her thumb into her mouth, her eyes fluttering closed only briefly as she fought her sleep. Natasha was having a good time beside you as she rubbed James' bare body soothingly. He's barely fifteen months and still so tiny and cuddly. This moment felt like heaven.

"Mmm," James babbled to himself. Just like his sister, he was fighting his sleep.

"It's funny how life turned out isn't it?" Natasha spoke softly.

"Hmm?" You questioned as you moved your gaze from Charlie's sleeping form to Natasha's loving gaze.

"I was just thinking," She breathed. "About him," Natasha said and you instantly knew what she was talking about.

"I think about him sometimes too," You avoided her gaze. Your unborn baby was always on your mind. It's funny that even after all this time you both were insistent on being a boy. You'd lost him before you could ever find out.

"I think about how I was scared out of my mind."

You frowned and looked at her. "Of what?"

"I was terrified to become a mother," Natasha confessed."I was terrified I wouldn't be a good mother."

"Well, I can say for sure that I was right," You smiled. "You are one badass boy Mama."

Natasha chuckled and shook her head."Thank you. But you were so confident and ready."

"Not really," You disagreed. "I was scared too."

"But you were so excited and open to the idea." Natasha began. "I was too but I don't know. I knew would have this. What we have here."

"Our own little James," You dared to say. He's not even yours yet. Not truly. He still belongs to the state. Both of them do. But you hope and pray that they get to stay.

"Is it hard for you? The fact that he has the same name?"

"At first it was..." You trailed off. "I was afraid of the memories and the pain but now...now it's the sweetest memory."

"That's how I feel," Natasha agreed.

"I don't want to let my thoughts slip and believe in reincarnation or something freaky," You shake your head. "The ages kind of align."

"I've noticed," Natasha hummed. She planted a sweet kiss atop James's head. He gave her a soft coo in return.

"I don't want to treat him as if he is ours in that way," You shook your head. "As if he's just here to fill some void and that he has the same name. It's just... have you ever felt like you're right where you're supposed to be."

"More than you know," Natasha's lips spread into a smile."I never thought I would have any of this. Now I do and it feels amazing."

"I never thought I'd love someone the way I love you."

"And I love you more than anything in this world," Natasha promised."You have the biggest and the most beautiful heart. I love the family we have created."

"Me too," You sighed happily.

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Playing a game with Seungmin ‗ ❍

Pairing : Kim Seungmin x f reader

Summary : chapter seven of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff,

Word count : 620 words

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Maybe it was the fact that you were two teasing little shits made for each other. Or maybe competitiveness was just in your blood. Or then again it just kind of became your thing when you went to live together.

Many things since then had become a game. Literally. Sometimes you'd be planning dates based on who won the game.

"If I manage to throw the bottles in the bin three times in a row, we're going to the next baseball match on Sunday"

"And if you miss?" you teased.

"If I miss I guess I'll just have to tag along to whatever my boring girlfriend wants to do" Seungmin rolled his eyes, toying with one of the empty plastic bottles.

"Boring? Oh, I'm gonna take revenge on that one, just so you know." you replied, waving your hand towards him. "C'mon, shoot."

Not that spontaneity was dead in your relationship or anything, you simply found it fun. You'd actually just play with each other, more than anything. A bet, an actual table game, cards, impromptu little stuff...and well of course there's the other kind of games and playing reserved for the bedroom, but still.

"I want meat tonight" he said as he threw his card pick on the pile.

"Well I felt more like sushi" you replied, placing your own card on top of his, effectively making Seungmin huff as he picked up four extra cards. You smirked, an idea already forming in your head.

"Okay, how about we start over and if i win we get sushi and if you, somehow, win, then we get meat?" he squinted his eyes, accepting the challenge.

"Bring it on"

And of course, you won. Uno was kind of your thing, you were unbeatable at it. So sushi it was. But he didn't sulk, he liked it too and regardless he knew that you could've eaten meat the next day.

When one of you was mad sometimes all it took was literally some tickles and play fight to cool down the situation. That's because it was never that serious in the first place.

"Seungmin"

"No"

"Min?" you tried again.

"No"

"Seungminnie" your voice got higher in pitch, as your arms slumped over his shoulders.

"No"

"Minnie" your head resting on his. Still nothing.

"Okay enough with the cutesy stuff, then" suddenly you started to tickle his neck with your fingers, which made him yelp and stand up from the couch quickly.

"Yah! St-stop it!" he screamed, as you climbed over the couch and dragged him back onto it, to then straddle him.

"Tell me why you came home angry and I'll stop" you manage to say as you keep attacking his sides. He can't help but contort himself, giggling and cackling like a little kid.

"I-I don't- AH- wanna talk 'bout it" he finally managed to take both of your wrists in his hands, spreading your arms above him.

"I don't want to see you sad" you justified, not trying to free yourself. He looked up back at you with his puppy eyes, then sighed.

"I'm not sad. Just annoyed. I had a small argument with one of the boys and then messed up a bunch of times at practice." he explained, "Enough?"

You gave him an understanding look and then slowly brought your hands back down, which he didn't fight, freeing them gently.

"Alright. I'm sorry it was a shitty day. If you want you can talk more about the fight later" you said sweetly, positioning yourself on his chest, hugging him.

"Now cuddles because I'm tired"

"You tired yourself out" his voice hid a smirk and some irony.

"Whatever. I did it for you, you kid."

[eddiemunsonw]

Leaning Away

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie has been avoiding you and you're starting to feel like he doesn't like you, in general, as a person. You're determined to find out why. CW/Disclaimer: A bit of angst, but this drabble is so short you'll be hit with good feels almost right away. Other than that: fluff, Eddie is awkward and cute. Author's note: Hope you like and if you do, please show some love! Likes, reblogs and comments are massively appreciated, it's what keeps me going. :) Words: 2445

You had been friends with the gang for a while now. While you weren’t sure exactly when it happened, you started hanging out more frequently when Steve, Robin and you started working at the same place after briefly being co-workers at Family Video. It was obvious that the group liked you around and you found that it became almost a weekly occurrence lately. At least, almost everyone. For whatever reason, you didn’t get that vibe from Eddie all that much.

He engaged in conversations with you, sure, preferably when drunk or high, but even during those times it was as if he would suddenly remember who he was talking to and he’d quickly cut the conversation in favor of going somewhere else or striking up a conversation with the nearest person aside from you. Not only that, but due to Jonathan being Jonathan, it wasn’t a rare occurrence that there was a camera on hand for someone to take pictures throughout the evening. Even Steve had taken up an interest in photography lately, liking the idea of having some tangible memories of good times. So therefore, pictures were being taken. At first you assumed that Eddie didn’t like his picture taken, since he always moved away once a camera came into view. But the more pictures you saw, the more you realized that apparently he only seemed to have a problem being photographed next to you.

There were a bunch of pictures with other people where he clearly didn’t have a care in the world for it, sometimes even posing silly for them. It wasn’t until this one night where you were all hanging out together and Jonathan gave everyone a copy of the group photo that had been taken sometime ago, that you reached your limit. 

It was the one photo where Eddie had stood next to you because it had simply been the better spot for him to stand according to the person who took the photo. You remembered vaguely how much closer you stood to Robin than Eddie did to you, but it became all the more obvious when you had the actual photo in your hands. His whole upper body was leaning away from you in a way that was simply too obvious. He never did that with anyone else.

Although this situation had been bothering you for a while now, you had avoided bringing it up with anyone from the group since you were essentially the odd one out and weren’t feeling like creating an awkward atmosphere. However, the longer you gazed at this photo, the more you felt like you didn’t belong anyway. Not if Eddie had a say in it.

So there you were, making your way over to Eddie who was already stuffing his copy in his back pocket. As soon as he noticed you, his eyes darted away and he looked downright uncomfortable. Great. Great start.

“Sup, Y/N,” he greeted you awkwardly while pushing his thumb through a belt loop. His other hand fiddled with an empty beer can that he was trying to balance on the bushes next to him.

“Hi, Eddie,” you started, glancing around to see if anyone was in hearing distance. Regret was already starting to seep in. “Can I ask you something?”

Everything about his expression told you that he’d rather be anywhere else than in front of you right now, especially with the way he avoided looking at you.

“Uhh, sure.”

He frowned slightly and decided it was the perfect time to light a cigarette. As you tried to build up the courage, Eddie gathered his lighter and busied himself trying to get it to work. You wondered if anyone else could see the tension oozing out of you the way you felt it.

“Did I ever do or say something to make you dislike me?”

You watched as his frown deepened, still flicking his thumb over the striker in slight frustration and you could tell the moment he registered your words, as his eyes immediately flick towards you.

“Huh?”

A soft sigh escapes your lips, cheeks flushing from embarrassment for making a big deal out of this. He probably couldn’t care less whether you were around or not. He was probably just indifferent to it all. Still… you just wanted to know.

“I mean that, uhm, you kind of avoid me whenever you can? And… I don’t know, this?” You showed him the photo, your finger easily fitting between the gap between you two, whereas everyone else is very much huddled close together. You were almost certain you heard him swear under his breath and you immediately feared that you had annoyed him even more. Wasn’t it a fair question to ask, though?

“I don’t dislike you, Y/N,” Eddie mumbled, his cheeks tainting a little pink. “That’s the whole problem.” Finally, he managed to get his lighter to work. He took a drag of his cigarette while continuously fumbling with the lighter so much to the point of it dropping onto the floor. He huffed around his cigarette, smoke leaving through the small gaps near the corners of his mouth. Wordlessly, you picked it up for him and your fingers briefly brushed each other before he snatched the lighter away from you so he could stuff it back into his pocket.

“What do you mean?” you decided to ask when you realized he wasn’t going to elaborate. He was once again avoiding your gaze and it became harder for you to keep your patience.

“Means I— like you. And I kind of don’t want… things to get in the way of, y’know, this,” he mumbled as he gestured around. “The group. Everything.”

You crossed your arms, vaguely registering that he just confessed something to you but you were too annoyed to let it linger in your brain for too long. Apparently, you had been feeling bad for weeks, months even, because Eddie Munson had decided it was better to avoid you.

“Well that’s a pretty shit reason to treat someone like garbage.”

Eddie, who had been avoiding your gaze up until now, looked up with big eyes, concern in them wide and obvious.

“G-Garbage? I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. In fact—” You held up a finger and walked back into the house wordlessly, leaving him standing there. Argyle gave you a nod as you passed him while he was getting him and Jonathan another beer. You fished out some tape and scissors from a drawer, decided that you didn’t need the latter as you ripped yourself and eddie off the picture, only to tape it back together horribly so that you disappeared and Eddie stood next to Robin instead. Without a gap. Eddie met you halfway on your way back to him, blocking the doorway as he spread his hands across the doorpost.

“Y/N—”

“Here. All fixed.” You pushed the photo into his hands, gave him no time to respond and walked away. To your surprise, you ran into Steve near the front door as he just came downstairs.

“Oh, leaving so soon?” he asked you curiously, “weren’t you gonna get a ride with someone?”

You shook your head and gave him a weak smile.

“No, change of plans. Gonna get picked up in a moment, so… I’m heading out. See you soon?” It wasn’t meant to be a question, but suddenly you weren’t too sure if you were going to see him or anyone for that matter anytime soon.

“Oh, alright. Yeah, soon!” He gave you a quick shoulder squeeze and one of his warm smiles and you knew that if he hadn’t drank that much, he probably would have waited to see if you actually had a ride. Lucky for you, that meant you could grab your jacket and slip out quietly.

Eddie was busy chewing his bottom lip away from stress as he tried to come up with something to say to you, to make it up. It had never been his intention to hurt you at all, he was just… protecting himself. Which was apparently the stupidest idea because now he hurt you of all people. He looked up, already stumbling over his words as he heard footsteps approach him and he was eager to grasp onto his second chance when he realized it was Steve instead.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She went home,” Steve shrugged, grabbing a beer and waiting for Eddie to let him pass.

“Wasn’t she supposed to get a ride with Jon and Nance?”

Steve shrugged again.

“She said she was being picked up in a moment.”

Right. As if. Despite his disbelief, he nodded and gave Steve a pat on the shoulder.

“Alright, thanks dude.”

Without announcing his departure, he left through the front door and took a left. The plan had been to stay over at Steve’s place, so he had consumed beers with that in mind and didn’t feel like driving would be a smart idea right now. But man he hated walking. Or jogging, which he was actually doing. He knew the quickest road to your home, he wasn’t stupid. He paid attention. Not just for reasons. He totally hadn’t sat in his van at the corner of your street, wondering if he should just spontaneously ring the doorbell since he couldn’t get a word out whenever he tried to phone your house. Ever since you had brought up “this creepy anonymous caller who keeps hanging up after some noisy breathing” he hadn’t dared to try again. Needless to say, he never gathered the guts to go over and actually act out his plan.

This however, was different. And with shortness of breath, his band tee sticking to his torso already due to the humidity this summer, he finally caught up to you.

“Y/N!”

You turned around at the sound of your name and your eyes widened when you spotted Eddie, hunched over, hands resting on his knees as he huffed short breaths. Mind you, you had only just rounded the corner of the street Steve lived on. Which wasn’t that long.

“Jesus… H— Christ, I hate running,” he groaned, wiping the sweat off his forehead and messing up his bangs in the process. A little annoyed, he lifted his t-shirt to ruffle through his hair a bit to fix it, exposing his stomach in the process. Not the point, you forced yourself to think as your eyes dragged over his happy trail.

“Then why’d you run?” you asked dryly, hands on your hips because your brisk walk had gotten you a little out of breath as well, with all the emotions running through you on top of it.

“Because I couldn’t let you leave like that. Also— Getting a ride? My ass. I knew that was bullshit when Steve said it.”

“Must be because I’m so unlikable, right? Who in their right mind would offer me a ride,” you mumbled as you rolled your eyes.

“Me! Did you not hear what I said before?” Eddie asked slightly exasperated. “Where does this fucking sweat keep coming from Jesus Christ—”

“Yeah, you like me so much that you go out of your way to make me feel unwelcome and act like I’m some sort of repellant you want to stay away from. Nice.” Eddie sighed softly and took a few steps towards you, making him close enough for you to have to look up to meet his eyes. Your heartbeat was deafening, and it had nothing to do with being a little out of breath.

“I never, ever meant to make you feel unwelcome, Y/N. I get why you feel that way, I do, and I’m sorry. I don’t want this,” he mumbled sincerely, grabbing the ripped up picture you taped together. You glanced down at his hand holding it and followed it all the way down as he let it drop onto the pavement.

“You shouldn’t litter,” you mumbled weakly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll— Fine.” He crouched down, picked it up and stuffed it back into his pocket. “I still don’t want it though,” he said pointedly. His eyes met yours briefly and it was easy to drown in those stupidly beautiful eyes of his. You followed his gaze as it wandered down to his hands, empty now. 

“I want…”

His hands hesitantly took hold of yours, slightly calloused thumbs rubbing the back of your hands gently.

“This.”

You gave his hands a soft squeeze and dared to look up at him only to find his gaze fixated on your hands, his cheeks giving away a subtle flush in the dim light around you.

“Y’know what the problem is, Y/N,” he added softly, thumbs never breaking their circling pattern as he spoke, “when we talk, or when you’re close to me, all I wanna do is kiss you. And I don’t think you’d be into that, not like that, anyway. ‘Cause you’re like… fuckin’ perfect, y’know? And then there’s me, acting like I just fished my brain out of my ass and am still trying to figure out how it works. I’m an idiot.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips without your control and he smiled softly.

“You are an idiot, Eddie,” you agreed and realized you needed to speed up your words when you saw the slightest hint of acceptance in his eyes, as if your hurtful statement held any truth to it in the way he expected it to be. “For thinking I wouldn’t want to kiss you like that.”

“I know I— What? Don’t fuck with me now Y/N or I swear to fuckin’ whatever,” he pressed, eyes large and actually, kind of hopeful.

“Or what, you’ll be a dickhead and avoid me?”

“Y/N, come on, I—”

Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words, right? In this case, you were certain it would speed up the process of a mutual understanding between the two of you. In one move you released your hands from his grip and wrapped them around his neck instead, pulling him downwards until your lips met in a sweet kiss. Eddie didn’t kiss you back right away— but once he realized what was happening he melted against you and kissed you back as eagerly as any guy would kiss a girl during spin the bottle. 

Except this wasn’t spin the bottle. This wasn’t based on chance and both parties wanted to kiss each other just as badly, without any coincidental circumstances. And so what if Steve and the others were a little confused with your sudden return? There was always the next day.

Tonight was about you and Eddie.

[pedrospatch]

jealousy l a safe haven drabble

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: When Esther invites Joel to her place for dinner, he reassures you that you have nothing to be worried about.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. jealous reader, soft Joel, infidelity, at this point these two are having a full on affair, fluff.

word count: 3k

“Helloooo? Yoohoo, is anybody home in there?”

“Ouch,” you gasp out as a foot connects with your shin underneath the table. You look up and shoot an annoyed glare at the curly haired woman sitting across from you at one of the smaller tables in the commune’s mess hall. You reach down, your hand rubbing over the spot where she’d kicked you with the hard toe of her boot. “What the hell was that for, Martha?”

Martha giggles. “Oh, hi. So glad you could join us again.”

Glancing from her to Maria, you frown. “What are you talking about?”

Maria playfully scoffs into her glass of lemonade. “Oh wow, she was so zoned out that she didn’t even realize she was zoned out.”

“I was not zoned out,” you counter, shaking your head.

“Okay, if you weren’t zoned out then tell me, what were we talking about right now?” Martha challenges, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. It widens when she sees the uncertainty in your gaze. “Just now, what were we saying? Hm?”

Shit.

“You said that—um,” you rack your brain, desperately trying to remember what the two women had been chatting about. “Something about—it was something about the market, right?”

“Aha! I knew it,” Martha laughs again, pointing an accusing finger at you. “That proves it. You weren’t listening.”

“Alright, alright. You caught me, Sherlock. I wasn’t listening,” you admit, sheepishly. “Sorry. It’s just that my mind’s been a little preoccupied.”

“Yeah, we can tell,” Maria teases, shaking her head. “And judging by that big ol’ smile you’ve had plastered onto your face all afternoon, I’m guess that whatever’s on your mind is a good thing and not a bad one.”

You glance down at the plate of fresh garden salad on your lunch tray, avoiding your friend’s curious gaze.

It’s been a couple of weeks since you’d started meeting with Joel. Early on, you both decided it was safest to meet after midnight and spent a couple of hours together, going your separate ways in the earlier hours of the morning just before sunrise to avoid being seen by anyone who woke at dawn for first shift work duties. Once you were certain that Luke was fast asleep, you’d carefully climb out of bed and silently slip out of the house, then walk over to Joel’s where he would already be waiting for you on his front porch. You would sit together on his porch swing—you wrapped up in the warm embrace of his strong arms, your head on his chest as you talked, stole kisses, and held each other for as long as possible until it was time to return to reality.

The reality where you’re not his and he’s not yours.

You’d tell him stories about where you grew up, described to him the foothills of your town and talked about your family’s ranch with fondness, with such passion that at one point, Joel had started to feel like he’d been there before. You told him about your family, your childhood, the dreams you had before the outbreak had pulled the rug from beneath your feet—and he listened earnestly, wanting to know everything there was to know about you. In exchange, Joel would tell you about his own life before the world ended. He’d talk about his life growing up with Tommy in Texas, how the two of them became contractors and started their own business together. He wasn’t quite as open as you had been, and oftentimes, you could sense Joel wasn’t ready to fully open up to you about his past—not only his past before the outbreak, but everything in between then and when he’d arrived in Jackson with Ellie. He wasn’t ready to talk about any of it, and you didn’t mind it.

Just like with Ellie, you’re willing to be as patient with Joel as you need to be.

Maria’s voice breaks into your train of thought. “What’s got you grinning from ear to ear, anyhow? Is there something we should know about?” She pauses, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth before asking, “Is there some kind of special news that you maybe want to share?” Placing a hand over her small, but now prominent baby bump, she gives you a hint as to what she’s insinuating.

She’d never lost faith that, one day, it’s going to happen for you and Luke. But little does she know that your desire to carry your husband’s child died a long, long time ago.

“I’m not pregnant,” you tell her, causing her to frown in disappointment. You finally look up at her and shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. To add another casual touch, you reach for your glass of iced tea and take a sip before saying calmly, “I’ve just been in a good mood lately, that’s all. I don’t think that’s anything too out of the ordinary, is it?”

Before either of them can chime in and say another word, a familiar voice rings over the loud, lively chatter in the mess hall. “Ladies!” Esther hurries over to your table and drops down into the vacant chair beside yours. “I’m so glad you’re all here!”

“Where the hell else would we be?” Martha remarks with a snort. “It’s lunchtime, Estie.”

“Where’s your lunch tray?” Maria questions her. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

Esther waves her hand dismissively. “You will never guess what I just did,” she says, excitedly, looking around the table. She waits and when nobody responds, she rolls her eyes and urges, “Come on, take a guess!”

“We’re not teenagers,” Martha chuckles, tossing her an eye roll right back. “Just fucking spit it out. What did you do?”

“I asked Joel to come over for dinner tonight!”

As you’re about to take a bite of your lunch, you drop your fork and it clinks loudly against your plate. All three women glance at you.

“Sorry,” you mutter quickly, your cheeks burning. “Clumsy me.”

Martha turns her attention back to Esther. She shoots her a skeptical look. “You asked Joel Miller over for dinner—and the man said yes? Are you serious?”

Beaming, Esther nods. “Yes! He’s coming over to my place. Tonight.”

Your stomach gives a violent, nauseating churn and for a split second, you’re afraid you’ll be sick all over the table.

“Wow,” Maria says, incredulously. “I can hardly even believe it. My brother in law likes to keep to himself most of the time. I can’t picture him agreeing to a dinner date.”

Esther doesn’t seem offended—in fact, there’s a glimmer of pride in her eyes. “Well, you had best believe it,” she says with a smug smile. “Because tonight, I do in fact have a dinner date with Joel Miller.”

You still haven’t said a word. 

You can’t speak.

You feel like you can’t even breathe. 

All you want to do is get up and leave the table before you can hear another word come out of Esther’s mouth, but you know you can’t do that without raising suspicion—or making your jealousy painfully obvious.

Esther turns to you and waits expectantly for your reaction. “Well?”

“That’s great,” you manage to reply, giving her the best supportive smile you can muster under the circumstances. “I’m really happy for you, Esther.”

“Wait, so if you’re going to cook the man dinner, then does that mean you’re going to be his dessert?” Maria jokes, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Of course,” Esther smirks. “Oh, with the things I plan on doing to him tonight, I’ll have to go down to the church house tomorrow morning and confess all my sins.”

The women burst into a fit of schoolgirl giggles. 

Suddenly, you feel even sicker than you did a minute ago, but you have no choice but to force yourself to laugh along with them.

“Alright, come on, my love. Let’s pick up the pace. That’s a good girl,” you murmur softly in encouragement to Luna. You’re outside in the paddock hand walking the mare and observing her legs, searching for abnormalities in her trot. Ellie had mentioned she thought she’d seen the horse in some discomfort while she’d been out on an afternoon ride. Wanting to see it for yourself, you decided to take Luna on a stroll out in the paddock while Ellie and Dina are inside the stables taking care of the grooming. “Come on, pretty girl. Little bit faster now—”

The sound of Joel’s deep voice saying your name causes you to stop in your tracks. Stiffening, you glance over your shoulder.

He approaches the paddock, his rifle hanging over his shoulder by a worn, black leather strap—you immediately know he’s just gotten in from afternoon patrol. He’d mentioned to you that he had been taking on extra shifts, even working doubles after there had been sightings of potential raiders fifteen miles south of the gates. Afraid they’d draw closer to the commune, Tommy decided to heighten security, placing more men and women on the wall as well as on every patrol route.

“Hi,” you greet him. There’s a cool edge to your tone as you turn back towards Luna. You don’t even realize how hard you’re gripping the lead rope in your hand until you look down and notice how tightly your skin is stretched over your knuckles. “Ellie’s in Shimmer’s stall brushing her.”

Joel chuckles. “S’good to know, but I came to see you, darlin’,” he states, lowering his voice. There’s no one else out in the paddock, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Being seen together can easily be played off by the fact that his kid’s working in the stables—but being overheard would be detrimental to yours and his blooming relationship. “Listen, I had an idea I wanted to run by you. Was thinkin’ we could meet out behind the barn tonight. Might be a bit safer than hangin’ out on my front porch—no risk of the neighbors seein’ us. What do you think?”

You don’t reply. 

“We’re still on for tonight, ain’t we?” he asks, his hopefulness subtle, but present. “S’the first time all goddamn week I ain’t gotta work a double or do overnight patrol.”

You lift your unoccupied hand, resting it on Luna’s neck, focusing your eyes on her. “I don’t know, Joel. You tell me—are we still on for tonight?”

Frowning, Joel reaches out and places his hand on your arm—you immediately jump away, as if he’d burned you. “Hey, hey.” Though he’s confused, he remains composed. “What’s the matter?”

You try to meet his gaze, but you can’t even look at him. “Nothing, Joel.”

Stepping forward, he hooks a finger underneath your chin, lifting it as his eyes try finding yours. “Baby, look at me—”

“Joel, stop,” you hiss, swatting his hand away, your head furiously whipping around. “Don’t do that! Someone could see us.”

“Relax, darlin’. No one’s around. What the hell’s got you so worked up?” Perplexed by your strange behavior, Joel’s eyebrows pinch together. “There somethin’ I should know ‘bout? Did somethin’ happen with Luke?”

Your jaw clenches.

Either he’s a gifted actor or he’s genuinely clueless. 

But Esther is your friend.

Surely Joel knows you would find out about their dinner date.

“Talk to me,” he encourages softly. 

You release a small, but heavy sigh.

“I was having lunch in the mess hall with Martha and Maria today. Esther joined us and she told us all about how she invited you over to her place for dinner tonight.” You cringe at the way your own voice trembles. “She said you accepted.”

“Jesus, I knew that woman had a big fuckin’ mouth,” Joel mutters, irritably. He shakes his head. “Yeah, s’true. I accepted the invitation,” Noticing the disappointment—the hurt—that flashes in your eyes, he holds up his hands in defense as he begins to explain himself. “Look, it just happened. Me and Tommy were walkin’ to the mess hall after mornin’ patrol to grab a quick bite to eat before headin’ back out for afternoon watch when she came up to us and said hello. She asked me right then and there if I wanted to come over to her place for dinner—right in front of Tommy. She put me on the spot and I blurted out a yes ‘cause I knew Tommy would give me shit if I said no to her. Trust me baby, I wanted to tell her no. Almost did, but Tommy’s been insistent on help’ me meet someone. Figured acceptin’ one dinner would get his ass off my back.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, your eyes flit down and you stare at your boots in silence.

“Wait just a minute.” There’s a hint of amusement on Joel’s tone. “You ain’t jealous, are you darlin’?”

“I’m so glad you think this is funny,” you mumble, your face growing warm under his curious stare. You finally bring yourself to lift your gaze and it meets his. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s being honest, but that does nothing to make you feel any better—or any less envious. Foolishly, you add, “She’s planning to seduce you, Joel. She said something about being your dessert.”

He smirks. “She really said that?”

You glare at him. “Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?”

Joel laughs. “Oh, c’mon now, peach. Y’know I’m just messin’ with you. Esther could serve me dinner naked and I still wouldn’t be tempted,” he reassures you, confidently. “Look, I’m just goin’ over to her place to have dinner with her. That’s all. After that, I’m gonna head back home and wait ‘til it’s time to see you. Alright?”

Anxiously, you nibble the inside of your cheek. 

You believe him. Of course you believe him. But there’s another part of you, the jealous part of you, that isn’t thinking rationally. Esther’s one of the most beautiful women in the entire fucking town—maybe he feels certain he’s not interested now, but all it could take is one look into her crystal skies to make him realize he could find happiness with someone he doesn’t have to sneak around with.

“I’ll meet you tonight,” he promises. “I will.”

“Joel, what if something happens and you decide not to show?”

“M’gonna show, peach.”

“But Joel—”

You stop abruptly as Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and begins to walk away from you. 

“Midnight,” he says over his shoulder. “Behind the barn.”

Squinting, you hold your watch up to the moonlight to check the time.

It’s five minutes after twelve and Joel’s nowhere in sight. 

He’s coming, you silently offer yourself the reassurance as the panic begins to settle in. Relax. He’s coming. He said he would be here, so he’ll be here. 

…but what if he isn’t?

For all you know, Joel and Esther could be in her bed right now, tangled up in each other’s arms as they—

A pair of large, rough hands grab at your sides, startling you out of your thoughts.

Squealing in fear, you whirl around.

Joel doubles over slightly, muffling a laugh in the palm of his hand. 

“Joel,” you hiss, narrowing your eyes at him. Slowly, your heartbeat slows, returning to its normal rhythm. “That wasn’t funny! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

“Y’must have your head up in the clouds if you didn’t hear me comin’, darlin’.” Grinning, he reaches out and pulls you into his arms. He goes in for a kiss and chuckles again when you turn your face, his mouth meeting your temple instead of your lips. He gives your body a gentle squeeze. “C’mon, sweet girl. Don’t I get a kiss hello tonight?”

You lightly push him away. “That depends,” you state, taking a step backwards. “On whether or not you got a kiss from a certain blonde earlier this evening.”

Joel’s eyes twinkle. “Wow. You really are jealous, huh?”

You say nothing as you wait expectantly for his answer.

His smile fades slightly as he admits, “She, uh—she did try to kiss me tonight.”

Crestfallen, your heart sinks deeply.

“I dodged it,” he adds, quickly. “Look, Esther’s a nice woman and she’s real pretty—”

“Keep talking, Joel,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re doing great.”

Joel exhales something caught between a scoff and a laugh. His fingers curl around your wrists as he tugs you forward into his chest once more. “But she ain’t you, peach.”

Surprised, you glance up at him, your lips parting slightly.

“Y’know what I was thinkin’ ‘bout the whole time I was with her?”

“What?”

“How fuckin’ bad I couldn’t wait for it to be over,” he tells you. “All I was doin’ was countin’ down the minutes ‘til I could go back home—and when I did go home, I started countin’ down the minutes ‘til it was time to come see you.”

The tense, taut muscles in your body finally relax.

“Really?”

“Swear it on my life,” Joel murmurs. “I’m hooked on you, baby. Been hooked since the first time you ever smiled at me. You remember that mornin’?”

“Of course I do. During winter, in the stables. You were in Buck’s stall, saddling him up when I walked by and saw you.” You laugh softly as you recall, “You didn’t smile back at me.”

Exhaling an amused huff through his nose, Joel presses his lips to your forehead. “Yeah, I know I didn’t,” he acknowledges quietly against your skin, his guilt evident. “But I couldn’t forget it. Even after all that time passed when I wasn’t here, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget it and I didn’t know why. And then when I came back, I saw you again and you gave me that same goddamn smile. You even know what it did to me, peach? Hell, do you even know what you do to me, baby?”

You lean forward, resting your head on his chest. Closing your eyes, you relish in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping softly against your cheekbone.

Joel nuzzles his face into your hair. “Don’t want anyone else but you,” he declares. “Swear it. You’ve got me, sweetheart. Alright?”

Eyes still closed, you make him the same promise. “And you’ve got me.”

[fayes-fics]

Teacher Bridgerton

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Modern AU Benedict, primary school art teacher

Warnings: none... fluff, dad!Benedict

Word Count: 830

Authors Note: Last of my 2k follower celebration drabbles. This is for @guiltywaves with the prompt of art teacher Benedict (ask here). i had to end with some soft dad!Benedict, Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“Is this right, Mr Brid-etun?” a boy holds a piece of paper aloft, struggling to enunciate the last name a little, wiggling in his tiny chair.

“Daniel, this is art,” Benedict explains softly as he drops to kneeling next to the little boy. “There is no right or wrong; just whatever you want to draw, do that. And please call me Ben.”

The boy looks at him wide-eyed, almost suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure. I am your art teacher, remember?”

The boy nods solemnly and reaches across the low table for a crayon. 

“Fank you, Ben,” he murmurs, a little peek of tongue at the corner of his mouth as he draws an arc in bright green.

Benedict smiles at the little boy and then stands back up to survey the cheery art room filled with 5-year-olds, preoccupied with crayons and their imaginations. It never fails to make him happy when Reception Year has its lesson every Wednesday morning. And not just because of one very special person it contains.

He never saw himself as a teacher, but a 2-month volunteering stint at summer classes on a whim became a temporary placement the following term that somehow became a job. That was seven years ago—he has never felt more content.

“Uncle Ben, I drew a cat!” a voice pipes up proudly, and he turns around to see Mary Bridgerton beaming up at him, holding a picture of what could possibly be a cat. It's a bright purple circle with rather demonic-looking red eyes and lightning-bolt yellow whiskers.

“Mary, that's very… colourful,” he offers diplomatically, bending down to ruffle her hair. “But remember, I'm just supposed to be Ben at school; I'm Uncle Ben at home,” he whispers as his brother's youngest child taps a finger to her nose with a wink, her pretty brown eyes shining as if agreeing to safeguard some grand secret. 

“I want to draw a car,” Mary’s friend Lila sighs wistfully.

“You can do it, Lila. Here,” Benedict hands her a blue crayon. “Try with this. I can help if you get stuck. I’ll be right here. And look, it's blue, just like your Mummy’s car.”

Lila rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know, Daddy. I’m not colourblind like Uncle Colin,” she replies dryly, eliciting a peal of laughter from Mary. She is often far more mature than her years, and she is growing up so fast that sometimes it terrifies him.

“Lila!” he admonishes quietly. “Remember, you must call me Ben when we are at school! And Uncle Colin isn't colourblind; he is just clueless about how to dress himself,” Benedict adds with slight relish.

“But Mary just called you Uncle Ben,” Lila retorts, drawing a quite impressive version of a blue car for her age—Benedict's heart wells at the sight but schools his expression the best he can.

“It was a accident!” Mary pipes up, indignant.

“It’s okay, Mary,” Benedict soothes. “Just remember to call me Ben at school if you can.”

She agrees and returns to her art—starting on a quiet terrifying-looking green dog. 

_____

“Mummy, look!” Lila runs up to you as you walk in from work after a long day, the delicious scent of garlic and herbs greeting you as soon as the front door opens.

She is holding aloft a remarkable drawing of a blue car. Very much like the one you just climbed out of.

“That's wonderful, Lila!” you compliment as you drop your work bag and take the paper from her for a closer look, kissing her cheek before she runs back to the kitchen table excitedly.

You wander in after her, admiring her handiwork, to be greeted by your husband feeding your baby boy in his highchair as dinner simmers away on the hob.

“Somebody is taking after her Daddy,” you smile indulgently, leaning in to kiss his jaw as you watch his face light up with joy, seeing what you have in your hands. He turns his head to capture your lips instead.

“I am so ridiculously proud; she's my star pupil. That's bad to say, isn't it?” he confesses over your lips, grimacing slightly in an utterly enchanting way.

You chuckle, nuzzling his face, enjoying the slight rasp of stubble. “It's just fine, Mr Bridgerton. I do believe it’s okay to play favourites if the class contains your own daughter.” 

“I'm just glad she draws better than Mary,” he confesses, keeping his voice soft enough that Lila cannot hear.

“That bad, eh?” you laugh, dropping a kiss on your son's hair as he mashes banana into his own cheek, burbling happily.

“Stuff of nightmares,” he shudders, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I'm certainly not telling Anthony,” you warn, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his twine around your waist, pulling you into his comforting embrace. “Or Kate.”

“Yeah, me either; I’ll give Mary a gold star and lie at parents' evening,” he jests into your hair.

“Smart man, teacher Bridgerton.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

[holylulusworld]

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (3)

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, shy reader, fluff, getting to know each other, implied innocent reader, protective/possessive Sherlock, mentions of getting robbed

A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (2)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

You wake warm and cozy, Sherlock’s arms locked tight around your middle. He nuzzles his face in your hair, whispering your name. “Sir, I mean Sherlock.”

“Good morning, Precious,” he husks in your ear. “How did you sleep? Does your face still hurt? I can call for the doctor again.”

“I feel better,” you say. It’s a little too much this morning. Sherlock being so close. His change of behavior. Sherlock seems to be everywhere you are to shower you with affection. “It barely hurts anymore.”

“Good, that’s good,” he softly kisses your hair. “I’ll be away this morning for a few hours. But I promise to come back soon. Mycroft and Enola will arrive tonight. We need to discuss her future.”

“Do you want me to prepare something special for them? Maybe I can help in the kitchen.”

“Y/N, you are the lady of the house. You don’t need to take care of the food. I already prepared everything,” he kisses your temple. “And I’ll take care of the problem with Mrs. Demeter too. She will never treat you the way she did.”

You snuggle in your pillow to get a little more sleep as Sherlock slips out of bed. He watches you fall asleep before turning to get ready for the day.

“Sleep well, my precious angel. I’ll see you soon.”

“Mrs. Demeter, we are expecting guests tonight. We need more flowers, don’t you think?” She sneers at your words. You only wanted the dining room to look more welcoming, and all she did was ignore your every word.

“I don’t think so,” she finally says. “Mr. Holmes asked me to prepare everything for tonight. I think his brother and sister expect more than flowers from dinner with Mr. Holmes.”

She rushes out of the room, barking orders at the staff while you stand in the dining room, close to tears. Nothing has changed. 

Sherlock is gone once again and Mrs. Demeter acts like she’s his wife, not you.

You wipe your wet eyes and flee out of the dining room. If your husband is more interested in listening to what this woman has to say, he can spend the evening with her and his guests.

“Precious open the door,” Sherlock hammers against the door to your bedroom. “What has gotten into you? Mycroft and Enola will be here any minute!”

“Why don’t you ask Mrs. Demeter to join you for dinner? Obviously, she’s the woman you trust the most. I’m having a terrible headache!”

He sighs and knocks again. “Please open the door. Whatever happened while I was away wasn’t my fault. I told her to respect you.”

“She will never respect me, Mr. Holmes. I think we should consider this marriage as what it is. Loveless and hopeless. You are married to your cases. And while you are away your precious Mrs. Demeter makes my life even harder. I will never leave this room again.”

“Brother, what is this about?” Mycroft hurriedly walks toward your room. “Where is your lovely wife? Why doesn’t she join us? Is she sick, or still scared because of the incident?”

“She’s angry at me,” Sherlock sighs and runs his fingers through his locks. “Mrs. Demeter…she…”

“You should talk to that woman while I try to make your wife feel safe and welcome in this family again,” Mycroft snaps at his brother. 

“She’s my wife, not yours,” your husband glares at his brother. “I know how to make her feel safe.”

“No. You don’t,” his brother exclaims. “If you did, she wouldn’t have locked herself away from you, and the world.”

Sherlock grits his teeth when Mrs. Demeter dares to walk his way. “Mr. Holmes, Sir.” She coos his name and tries to make him believe you are suffering from female hysteria.

“Mrs. Demeter,” Sherlock raises his voice, making even his brother flinch. “I must mishear! Did you accuse my wife of being hysterical? This diagnosis is nonsense. Every person with a sharp mind knows it.”

“Sherlock,” Mycroft tries to calm his brother, but Sherlock moves closer to Mrs. Demeter. He towers over her, panting heavily. “You are dismissed. I want you to pack your things and leave my home.”

“Mr. Holmes, you can do this! Not over this hysteric girl and her lies,” she cries and begs but Sherlock won’t have it.

“Mrs. Demeter, you should leave now. My brother is close to losing his composure. Believe me, you don’t want to feel his wrath.”

Mycroft leads Mrs. Demeter down the stairs to give your husband time to talk to you.

“Please open the door. I believe she’ll treat you with respect. I wanted to give her one last chance. I owed her that much.” He presses his ear to the door. “Precious, open the door.”

“Only when she’s gone,” you unlock the door and step away. “If you lied, I’ll stay here.”

Sherlock opens the door, almost ripping it open to get to you. He wraps you in his arms and peppers kisses all over your forehead. “I’ll never disappoint you again, wife. From now on, I’m your loyal servant…”

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[venusbby]

hi!! hope you are doing well <3

congratulations for 200 followers, you deserve even more🙏🏻 for this event can i have no.6 with sae, but the reader says the line? it will be amazing imo , and thank you for your hard work!!! take care of yourself, xoxo (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

midnight

🍁 character & prompt : ITOSHI SAE // #6. "i've never seen you smile like that before."

note: thank you so much for your love ! <3 have a great day and i hope u like this !!! # drabble game prompts here

summary: your boyfriend hates the idea of letting you go out alone at night. even if it's a one minute walk. and even if it's for ice cream.

the warmth of his hand radiated throughout your whole body as you walked side by side on the empty street, in contrast to the chilled air of the clear night.

"you seriously didn't have to come with me," you mumbled, gesturing to the small bag in your other hand when sae hummed in question. your footsteps coordinated with each other's. left and then right. you felt silly when you realised how it made you smile to yourself.

"i wanted to. i needed a breather anyway." he replied, voice raspy. neither of you had talked much on the short walk to the supermarket, with your stomach yearning for the taste of your favourite ice cream and sae following after you with his hands buried in his hoodie and his head kept low in an effort to be hidden.

your midnight cravings were maybe a little ridiculous. but sae wasn't one to complain. especially when you were so insistent on not letting him tag along, saying 'sae, it's just a minute away. i'm gonna be fine.'

no way in hell would he ever let you go somewhere alone at this time. so he told you to shut up and wait for him as he threw on a hoodie and slipped on the shoes that were easiest to wear. he felt relieved that he was spending the night at your place. if he wasn't there, you'd still go alone for your beloved ice cream and he just can't stand the thought of not being with you.

he had also realised that he never knew your favourite ice cream flavour.

not that he was supposed to know from the very beginning.

because your relationship hasn't even reached its five month anniversary. not until next month.

not that he remembers the date.

he does. he's waiting for it. he's thinking of what he should do for you. he almost considered asking his brother for help until he became annoyed. how dare his brother get into a relationship before him?

but now he knows your favourite flavour.

and he knows how loud your laugh is, because you just laughed out of nowhere and it's booming through his ears because the neighbourhood is so quiet.

"sorry. the cashier's face when he saw you— it was so funny," you cackled, not bothering to think about the people who were probably sleeping in the houses that you passed by.

"he definitely thought he was seeing shit. the guy's probably been working all day." sae said with a hint of a chuckle.

the thought made you laugh harder for some reason. you grabbed his hand tighter and stopped in the middle of the street, right under the streetlight, hunching over and laughing your heart out. sae looked at you and saw your slightly guilty expression as you couldn't stop.

he smiled.

it was not his fault that your laugh was so contagious and your cheeks looked so cute when you smiled wide.

you started to quiet down from the sudden laughing fit when you noticed his smile.

"i've never seen you smile like that before."

sae blinked. was he smiling?

"noooo, why'd you stop smiling now?" you whined, getting cut off by sae when he gently but swiftly placed his finger on your lips.

"shhh. people are sleeping." he played it off, looking below at the bag in your hand. "and your ice cream will melt."

you smiled and kissed his finger. he retreated with instant regret. still, he liked that.

"sorry," you sheepishly replied. "your smile is just.. something."

"whatever. let's go home."

you hummed, continuing the walk. this time, you both walked faster.

but you couldn't stop yourself from saying it. your face felt warm when you stared at your partner. he avoided your gaze and looked forward with a twitch in his lips.

"i'm gonna bring that pretty smile on your face again. just watch."

he exhaled. you grinned.

it's not going to take a long time for you to make him smile once again— he knows that deep down. and he's happy that you're the reason for it.

🍄 taglist: @hyomagiri @yoimyas @beanxiv <333

[ginnsbaker]

shattered (drabble)

Summary: Yelena learns about you moving on for good through a phone call.

Word count: 1.3K | A/N: Set in the ILGOSS universe, this one was suggested by @canvascoloredin; not sure if this counts as drabble, but there's really no other context here than Yelena finding out you're getting married to Wanda.

A direct sequel also to Rivers and Roads Til I Reach You

Masterlist

-

She finds out about it right in the middle of a casual hookup.

Yelena’s small apartment located in a rural section of Leeds is quiet, lit only by the yellow light of the street lamp outside her window. She'd brought him home from the bar—dark hair, sharp jaw, and a wit that kept up with hers. Names hadn't mattered; their chemistry spoke for itself. But as they are tangled on the couch, fervently exploring one another, her cell phone begins to ring persistently from the coffee table.

At first, she tries to ignore it, her lips not leaving his for more than a breath. But when it starts ringing for the third time in a row, she groans in frustration, pulling away.

“Sorry,” she pants, “Just... give me a second.”

Expecting perhaps a miscall, the name flashing on the screen siphons the breath from her lungs. Natasha. Immediate and family, requiring her attention even amidst the haze of…whatever it is she’s been doing with these strangers for the past few years. Apologies form a tight lump in her throat as she delicately extricates herself from the man’s grasp, scooping up the phone with a trembling hand. 

“Nat?”

Whatever she's expecting, it isn't a ghost from six years past being thrust back into her present. An abyss opens up beneath her, swallowing the words she might have formed in reply. The man, mere feet away, dissolves into nothing—because he’s nothing. Compared to you, he means nothing. None of them ever mattered to her as much as you did—still do. Even if her connection to you has been silent, a chapter she’d folded neatly away into a corner of her mind, trying to erase the memory of tears staining long-distance calls to New York.

“Yelena are you there?”

It takes two more seconds for Yelena to collect herself. “Y-Yes…”

“I said Y/N’s getting married,” Natasha says.

The numbness that enveloped her shatters suddenly by a biting sensation at her earlobe. The man, perhaps thinking the call isn’t of importance, tries to recapture her attention by nibbling at her. In an unexpected, almost involuntary reaction, Yelena pushes violently against his chest. The force sends him stumbling off the bed, surprise coloring his widened eyes.

“Hey! What the hell?” He exclaims, humiliation etching across his face. For a second, Yelena's gaze flits to him, seeing but not really registering his indignation. The burning gravity of the revelation about you consumes all her thoughts.

His anger brews as he hastily gathers his belongings. He shoots her one last incensed look before storming out of her apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Yelena just stands there, phone still pressed to her ear.

There’s silence on the other end of the line before Natasha's voice filters through, softer now, even though she has no idea of the impact of what she’s just revealed. “Lena, are you okay?”

But how can she be?

“When?”

“When what?” Natasha responds, genuinely puzzled by the abrupt question.

It’s then that Yelena realizes how deep into her own world she's drifted. She clears her throat, the words forming barely above a whisper, “When are Y/N and her fiancé getting married?”

There's a pause, and Yelena can almost picture Natasha's brow furrowed in mild confusion. “Lena,” Natasha finally begins gently, “I was asking when you’re coming home. You should be here for the big moments, don't you think?”

Home. A term that has morphed and twisted in meaning for Yelena over the years, especially since you became part of her past. And even in its twisted meaning, she still envisions home as being exclusively you and her sister.

Yelena swallows hard. “I don’t know, Natasha. I haven’t thought about home in a long time.”

“But you should think about it. You've missed so much, and we've missed you,” Natasha persists, her voice threading through the line with an edge of vulnerability that's rare for her.

“Nat, I—”

“And don’t you think it’s time to tell me?” Natasha asks, exasperatedly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Natasha snorts, the sound failing to get a rise out of Yelena, who continues to stay quiet.

“Come on, Yelena,” Natasha presses. “You think I wouldn’t notice? Ever since you left for the UK, every time Y/N comes up in conversation, you shut down. Why do you do that? Why won't you talk about what happened?”

Yelena grips the phone tighter, feeling as if she's been cornered. She hasn’t ever really talked about it, not with anyone. Because doing so would mean facing the fact that she chose to leave you behind. And now you’re planning to live the rest of your life with someone else.

“I just...” Yelena starts, her voice trembling. “It's in the past, Natasha. What’s the point in bringing it up now?”

“Because,” Natasha says. “It’s clear it still affects you. And maybe if you talked about it, let it out, you'd feel better. Holding onto it hasn’t done you any favors.”

Yelena sighs. “Fine. But you have to promise me you won’t say a thing to Y/N.”

When all has been said, her story ends just as it did when it actually happened: with tear tracks on her cheeks, trouble breathing, her hands shaking, and her eyes swollen and red.

Natasha doesn't say anything the entire time she's pouring her heart out, with only her steady breathing confirming her presence on the other line.

“I’m sorry,” Yelena whispers, her voice choked up, “I didn’t mean to unload all of this on you.”

“I love you,” Natasha says softly, filling the silence. “And I want you to come home, to be with us. But now that I’ve heard everything… I understand if you can’t. I understand if it's too much.”

“Does it get better?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe. It has to.”

The call ends abruptly, with neither of them saying another word. The phone slips from her hand, landing with a muffled thud on the carpet below. Her gaze lifts, scanning the surroundings of her apartment—her sanctuary. A place she had built from the ground up when everything else in her life seemed to be crumbling. The well-kept shelves, the carefully selected art pieces, the sofa that had cradled her through many solitary evenings.

And yet, despite the comfort her sanctuary has provided, it has never been able to shield her entirely from the bouts of loneliness that creep in, often in the stillness of the night. Now, as she stands in the center of it, Yelena realizes that those earlier moments of isolation were mere ripples compared to the tsunami engulfing her now.

She wraps her arms around herself, wandering to the window, and peering into the night. After this, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever find the strength in her to come home. She’s deluded herself into believing that when she comes back, you’d still be there waiting for her. Those dreams of returning to a world where you'd be waiting for her, where everything would magically revert to the way it was, now seem like fantasies. Perhaps they always were. She had crafted them as a lifeline, a comforting illusion to help her cope with the loneliness and the consequences of the decisions she’s made.

But tonight, reality has shattered that illusion. She’s been strong for so long, building barriers and facades, and in this moment, the façade wavers. Had she known that the last ‘I love you’ spoken between you would truly be the last, would she have said more? Fought harder? Stayed?

She’s left with the bitter acknowledgment that sometimes love stories, no matter how epic, don’t always have the resolution we crave. Sometimes they simply end, fading away in the unsaid and undone.

She lingers by the window a while longer, lost in her heartache, before finally turning away. 

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ jjk angsty oneshots + drabbles

‹𝟹 summary: SFW angsty oneshots. inspired by sad songs T_T

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

✦ p1: you promised to watch a movie with me ✦

›› yuuji itadori x reader

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: death, depression, sadness, disordered eating, grief

‹𝟹 tags: au- college with powers, y/n dies, sad yuji, no happy ending only sadness

‹𝟹 notes: this oneshot is heavily inspired by the song 'you promised to watch a movie with me' by sally.

link if you can't click it -> https://open.spotify.com/track/2gllZYkRxVyztap9ojXalD?si=d7fb946564544f66

listen to the song! and look up the lyrics if you wanna be extra sad ;_;

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

you were yuji’s first girlfriend. he had never met anyone else with the same hobbies and also a passion for helping people that rivaled even his. you first met at jujutsu tech as first years. he was too shy to ever talk to you aside from missions and class time though. when he heard which college you would be going to after graduation, he immediately applied to that same school that night. he didn’t know why he wanted to be around you so much, he hadn’t even introduced himself to you yet.

it didn’t matter though, because your bubbly and talkative personality immediately reeled him in. of course yuji had the same major as you, and tried to take as many classes as he could with the same professors. he always admired you from afar, not in a creepy way, but like you were untouchable, unattainable force and he was a fly on the wall.

he couldn’t believe himself when he was placed in a project with you and you both instantly connected. talking to you was actually really easy, it came naturally. or maybe you had that vibe, the aura that makes anyone around you comfortable. of course, throughout the duration of your project you two would make any excuse to hang out, study, revise the project, whatever. it came to a point where you didn’t even bring your laptop or materials when visiting yuji; you just wanted to be around him too.

you tried to be more forward, more direct with him; you could see that although he has a vibrant personality, he needs someone to get the ball rolling before he takes over. so you would ask to come over to his place, and every single time yuji would respond back with his cute ’yes :)’ almost immediately after.

yuji was thrilled everytime you would hang out at his place. he loved watching movies—from comedies to romance, horror and thrillers, and so many more—yuji loved sharing his passion with you. when he found out there was an extracurricular film critique class at your university, he immediately jumped on that; although it’s mostly because you said you were taking that class. he loved the new perspective he could analyze his favorite movies from, and he loved it moreso that you could do it together.

life in a world of curses and jujutsu constantly reminded you both of its presence. when you weren’t working on “regular” schoolwork or hanging out, you were both on jujutsu missions together. when you were done with missions, you would crash at yuji’s place and tend to each other’s wounds if needed. it was a nice respite and reminder that not all of life is solely your ability to protect people, but also these intimate moments together.

--

yuji never thought you would ask him to be your boyfriend, he thought that was something he had to do. despite this, he appreciated that you were so forward, and he gladly took on that role.  time went on with your usual routine of mundane schoolwork, followed by missions, and then staying at yuji’s apartment.

in any given month you were at his place more than you were at yours. as your relationship together grew, you both thought it natural that you would just fully move in to yuji’s apartment instead of sleeping over. that way you could both start to fully integrate your lives together.

a few months in, you both became busier and busier with solo missions. yuji had been critically injured in his last mission, and no one else was available to accompany you for yours. you might have been too confident in your abilities, but you persuaded the higher ups to let you take on the mission solo anyways. you were always headstrong, charging forward to save whoever you could on your way. yuji always admired that about you.

you gave a kiss to yuji on your way out, patting his fluffy pink hair as you told him you’d be back soon. he believed in you and knew that you always kept your promises.

a little while later, you remember that yuji hadn’t changed the bandages around his wounds. shoko could fix everything, but lately she’s been very busy and yuji’s injuries weren’t deemed critically important enough for her help. instead, he just had to take it easy for a few days while the stitches finished healing. you shoot yuji a text, giving him some extra reassurance and concern for him.

you: hey yuu, don’t forget to switch the bandages. and make sure to wash your hands first!!!! I don’t think this mission will take too long. I miss you :c I promise we can watch something together when I get home ^_^ see you soon, I love you!!!!

yuji checked his phone at the buzz of your text, and replied back instantly:

yuji: okay lovebug. I miss you too c: and ty for the reminder! (salute)

you read his message but got interrupted by your car door being opened and someone instructing you outside. you had this in the bag.

--

yuji made sure to meticulously wash his hands before changing the gauze and bandages of his wound. he appreciated that you were always looking out for him. you always helped him feel better when he was sick or sad, and he could only hope that he made your life better too.

he busied himself with cooking you a delicious meal for when you got home. he didn’t want you to work yourself any more than you had to, and he felt this was the least he could do to make you feel that much better. he kept obsessively checking his phone, trying to see if there were any new messages from you.

it was starting to get late, yuji had long since set up the table for you two and had the food ready to serve. he sat at the couch, waiting for a call or a text that he didn’t realize would never come.

it almost 10pm, still no sign of you. usually your missions would only last a few hours, not 7. he started getting worried, pacing around the apartment before he grabbed his keys and left towards jujutsu headquarters. he needed some answers. the food he had prepared sat on the table, forgotten and cold.

yuji sped way over the speed limit on his way to headquarters. he was practically running inside the building, looking for gojo or anyone who could explain what had happened to you. he stumbled into satoru, looking up at him and words stumbling out asking where you were “what happened to ___? where is she? is she okay?”

satoru only looked down at him, a weak smile of pity taking over his face. “I’m sorry, yuji… she’s gone. the enemy had more reinforcements than we had planned for, I arrived to her laying on the floor, lifeless.” satoru was blunt, but still brought yuji in for a hug.

yuji’s tears flooded his eyes before rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto his shirt. he cried in satoru’s arms for what felt like eternity.

he doesn’t remember how or when he got home. his mind turned off the moment after he heard the news about you. he can’t remember anything from then until now, where he can only hear thoughts and anger floating around in his head.

he was mad at the higher ups, for letting you go, mad at satoru, for not being there faster. mad at yourself for being overconfident… but overwhelmingly pissed at himself for not being there. if only he hadn’t gotten injured. he shouldn’t have shown anyone his injuries and just endured it. he should’ve done anything if it meant you would not go on a dangerous mission alone.

tears were streaming down yuji’s cheeks once again as he just stood in the doorway of his room, staring at the table that had been set for two. he had no appetite, he would probably throw up if anything even came near him. he turned around and looked into your shared room. he  saw some of your clothes strewn on the floor, your messy and unorganized desk with knick knacks and various papers, and your plushies that you demanded stay on your bed or else they’d ‘”eel left out”. what felt like rivers of tears flowed at this point, and yuji questioned where they even came from. his throat felt like the desert, he was surely dehaydrated at this point. he couldn’t rationalize anything, and chalked it up to the “tear curse” making him feel this way. that made him chuckle for not even a second before he felt even guilty. how could he even laugh at a time like this?

days went on of yuji holing himself in his apartment, staying in bed and just drifting in and out of sleep. every waking moment he was filled with despair and tears as he clutched at your plushies, trying to hold something, anything of yours to comfort him. eventually he would pass out from exhaustion and repeat the cycle again. only when he felt a splitting headache overcome him did he pull himself out of bed to find water and maybe something to eat.

during his waking moments, yuji would check his phone, hoping you had sent something and that this was all a ruse. he started texting you too, in a state of near-delusion, until your phone died and the texts stopped getting delivered.

he felt like he had lost his other half. he only ate a slice of bread when he felt the gnawing pain of hunger in his stomach. he only drank water when he knew he’d probably die without it. all he could do was blame himself for not protecting you. you were seemingly untouchable and unattainable, and he had got you for himself, before ultimately letting you slip through his fingers.

he stopped talking to other people. he didn’t even turn the tv on anymore. he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a call or text from you, ending his waking nightmare. he cried when he was reminded of the movie you were both planning to watch the night you came back. he sobbed, waled, and cried out in anger and frustration at everything in existence.

before drifting off to sleep, yuji had one last fleeting thought. “I miss you, ___. I love you, and I want you back home. you can’t leave me, you promised to watch a movie with me.”

‹𝟹 notes: sad irl so this means i make angst lolol. lmk what y'all think! more parts coming soon maybe lol

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie