#and not that she would want to anyways - hes just very stubborn and it might be easier to get commands through than to change karos mind

[illbegottenfaith]

kiss me better, love

as the two of you stumble into bed after a Valentine's dinner date, theo realises it's not fair how much he loves you (theo nott x reader)

a/n - valentines fic #2 !!!! thought of this idea in a class literally 5 hours ago and idk if its the sleep deprivation but this is sooo self-indulgent writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet frfr 😭 all I have to say is if this isnt me and my future partner I dont want him I send him BACK

tropes/warnings - physical touch as a love language, angry theo but also soft theo 🥰🥰 no (read: minimal) proof reading we die like men etc etc

word count - 1.5k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson @ebriton @thaliashifts @friedfreyfries @allie-sturns

The door shuts behind you both, plunging the room into near-darkness. You barely take a step before bumping into Theo, your knee knocking against his thigh, your hands flying to his shoulders as you stumble.

"Merlin,” he mutters, steadying you with a grip at your waist. “Can you - ”

“You're the one barging into me,” you shoot back, tucking a lock behind your ear as you tighten your grip on Theo’s shoulder, making him wince.

“Anyway, like I was saying, it hasn’t even been a week since Missy - ”

Theo exhales sharply, blindly reaching for the zipper at your back. “Is this something I really need to be hearing right now?” he asks somewhat waspishly.

“Yes.” You barely register his tone, still preoccupied. “So I walk into Charms in Tuesday, expecting to find Josh understandably distraught and/or in mourning. But who do I see him chatting up instead?"

"Hair."

You gather your hair up in one hand to hold it up and go right on talking. You barely notice Theo's largely ineffective attempts at pushing your sleeves off your shoulders.

"Pansy Parkinson! Pansy flipping Parkinson. What, does he think he's a free man now or something? Melissa's halfway across the world, she's not dead."

"Mhm."

You sigh exaggeratedly at his lackluster responses.

“Well? Don't you have to anything to add?"

“Yeah - hold still.” You This is just ridiculous, Theo was thinking. What kind of dress needed buttons and a zip?

You huff, switching your hair to your other hand. “Honestly, Theo, have you listened to a single thing I’ve been saying the past hour?”

Theo groans, still fumbling at your lower back. He had figured out the buttons were decorative, bless him, but your dress was on the more delicate side, and if he ripped it, he'd never hear the end of it. “Uh, yeah, that Abernathy guy...he’s two-timing Melissa?"

“He is not,” you say, peering over your shoulder to see what was taking Theo so long. Seriously, what was going on back there? It doesn't help, though, not when you can barely make him out in the dark. “not yet at least. He might. And if he's going to, well, isn't it better she finds out now rather than ten years down the road? Or am I an awful friend for thinking that?"

"Thinking what?" Theo asks distractedly.

"Willing my best friend's boyfriend into cheating on her."

Before he can formulate a response, your stubborn zipper finally decides to cooperate and moves down an inch - snagging at his finger. A sharp hiss cuts through the dark, followed by some emphatic, muttered swearing.

You pause.

“…what was that?”

Theo slips his injured finger out of his mouth briefly, his voice strained as he struggles to keep the pain out of his tone. “Nothing.”

You shift slightly, trying to catch his expression in the dark, but he’s suspiciously still now, his hands nowhere on you anymore.

“Theo.”

“I’m fine.”

Your brow furrows. Then, his suddenly subdued demeanour and oddly neutral tone clicks in your head.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

There’s an immediate rustle, followed by Theo’s very delayed attempt at nonchalance.

“…no.”

Oh, you could throttle him. “Was it the zip again?”

“You keep saying that like I do it intentionally - I never mean to-”

“And now you're trying to suck the pain away like a child?”

“Would you rather I bleed all over your dress?”

“I’d rather you watch what you’re doing so you don’t get maimed by a bloody zip in the first place!”

Theo exhales sharply, his frustration palpable. “I keep telling you - I don't-”

“You never mean to, but here we are.” You cross your arms. “Third time in two weeks, Theo. This is getting ridiculous. Should I hire a nurse for our dates? A medic? Do you need to start taking my clothes off under medical supervision? Is that what we've come to?"

Theo glares at you (or the shadowy figure he was mostly sure was you), trying to pull his attention away from the stinging pain. “Oh, don’t start - ”

“You don’t think before you do things.”

Theo groans. “I think plenty.”

“No, you rush plenty. Really, it’s a miracle you still have all your limbs -”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“First, you burn yourself on my curling iron -”

“Okay, one, you shouldn't be leaving your things out like that.”

“Then you cut yourself opening a tin of biscuits -”

Theo tips his head back in exasperation. “You sh - you literally shoved it at me!”

“ - and now my zipper is out to get you?” You throw your hands up. “What are you telling me, Teddy? That every item I own has a personal vendetta against you?”

"Mattheo agrees with me, you know," you continue smugly, in a so-there kind of tone. "He told me about that time you nearly broke your neck falling down that flight of stairs on the way to Transfiguration, which wouldn't have happened if you weren't - "

"Rushing, I know." Theo steps back as if to escape. “Merlin, you are insufferable - ”

“And you are reckless.”

“I don't need you to lecture me.”

“You’d be fine if you just listened to m - show me your finger.”

A brief struggle ensues.

You lunge; he sidesteps. You fumble blindly for his hand; he twists out of reach.

“For fuck’s sake -”

“Stop being so difficult.”

“I’m not being difficult, you’re being a menace.”

“At least I don't get mauled by zippers.”

“I'm telling you, that zipper has it out for me."

“Well, maybe if you weren’t always in such a bloody rus - ”

“Enough with the rushing!”

“I can't help it if you never learn - ”

“I do learn,” he snaps, stepping back further - only for you to grab onto his wrist and pull.

There’s a shuffle, a scuffle as Theo stumbles back into the dresser with a thud.

“Oi - ”

“Oh, stop squirming, you big baby.”

“You stop grabbing- ”

“Theodore, you are injured. Act like it.”

“I am n- ”

“Then give me your hand.”

A long, heavy pause. Then -

“No.”

You groan, exasperated. “Merlin, you are the most - ”

“And you are relentless - ”

But at last, in an impressive show of determination, you manage to latch onto his wrist, wrenching his hand towards you before he can twist away again. Theo groans in frustration, but you’ve already found the wound—his fingertip, warm and damp against yours.

“Oh, for - ” You tighten your grip as he tries to pull away. “You are bleeding!”

Theo tenses, his entire body bristling. “It’s nothing.”

“On my zipper,” you say incredulously. “Again.”

He exhales sharply as if this is somehow your fault. “You don’t need to make a whole production of it - ”

“I told you to be careful - ”

“And I was - ”

“Clearly not enough!”

Theo groans, tipping his head back against the dresser. “I’m buying you a tear-away dress next Valentine’s.”

You bite back a smirk. “I’d like to see you figure that one out.”

He mutters something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, but you’re already bringing his hand up, brushing your lips over the wound.

He stills.

The fight, the irritation, the tension - all of it dissolves instantly under your touch.

You press another kiss there, softer this time. Through a sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains, he sees your face - your impish expression, your eyes, alight with amusement and plain adoration. You watch his face too - his furrowed brows relaxing, the slight part of his lips, his sharp features softened by something indiscernible.

His eyes flick to yours.

And Merlin, it’s not fair, he thinks. It’s not fair how you can drive him to the brink of insanity one second and then look at him like that the next, like you could never get your fill. It's enough to make him think you're worth all the trouble you put him through. It's enough to make him want to slow down. Merlin knows the last thing he wants is to rush through his days with you.

“…better?” you murmur against his skin after a moment.

Theo exhales, rolling his eyes as though he isn’t already relenting. "It's a start," he says grudgingly.

Your smile widens as you bring his hand up again, pressing another kiss there, then another, then another.

Theo groans, tipping his head back again, his frustration dwindling with every sympathetic brush of your lips.

“You like this,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, but his voice has softened, his body relaxing into yours.

You grin, pressing a kiss to his wrist. Then his palm.

Theo groans again, for reasons unrelated to his earlier irritation, his fingers curling at your waist.

You laugh softly. “Want me to kiss you better everywhere?”

Theo smiles weakly, pulling you closer. “That's the best idea you've had all night."

[blueivyy99]

Sylus? No ... Skye?

Sylus x NonMC

summary: you didn't know that your lovely sweetheart is the most wanted man in all of Linkon. you knew him as Skye. one year with him was bliss, then suddenly he ghosted you.

tags: fluff, angst, sylus as skye, non mc reader more tags to follow

taglist: @animegamerfox @lazypostfandomer @mentaltrouble2201

note: ACKKK new series hiii! Hope you enjoy this

Masterlist

"How is my darling?"

Destiny cafe is particularly busy during this time of the day. Chatters from friends and the sound of the coffee grinder fills the place. So when you heard a familiar voice talking in your direction, you tear your gaze away from your laptop and looked at them. It's your very adorable boyfriend -- Skye. You immediately shoot him a smile. He's finally here.

"You're just in time. I'm actually loading up my cart for skincare products. Come and help me choose."

He groaned before plopping to your side and looked at your screen. That made you giggle. He doesn't really like doing all of these and in his own words he can "just help pay for it" but he tolerates you anyway.

"Sweetie, didn't we just bought some a few months back?" he asked while still scrolling through different brands of facial masks looking for the ones you two already tried and tested.

"Months. It's been months, Skye. We already went through all of them. We only have a week's worth."

"Fine. Go and check out this one. I like the scent."

Your afternoon went on like that. Nothing new. Just a fun and light moment with your long term boyfriend. It has been a blissful year since you two got in a relationship and so far, he did nothing but make you smile. Although he is stubborn at times and makes your head ache with his sudden disappearances, you didn't question him for it. You wanted to, but it seemed like he isn't ready to tell you where he goes and as an apology when he returns he gives you a bouquet of peonies.

Skye tells you that he is just a lowly fruit vendor whose income depends on how his fruits sell and that he got lucky supplying a few bigshots costumers here in Linkon, but sometimes it's hard to believe that. His motorbike collection alone is enough to pay for your year's worth of salary and so far he used at least five different big bikes around you. Not to mention his cars that's another puzzle that you cannot wrap your head around.

And the way he spoils you is out of this world! You're not one to police someone's spending habits but if Skye is telling the truth and he is just living off of his fruits, then he should start cutting back on the amount he spends on you.

"Skye, if you ever think of paying for this, I'm telling you now: don't." you said trying to be stern. "Let me cover it this time."

He raised a brow at you, "What kind of boyfriend am I if I let my lady pay for the things she loves?"

When he is like this it's so easy to just give in and do what he wants especially when he looks so offended that you don't want him to pay for you. It might no be obvious to him, but he has this little pout whenever he doesn't get his way and his eyes looks so disappointed that it makes your heart clench.

But no. You will not be swayed.

"You will be a responsible boyfriend who will be mindful of his spending habits so he can maintain his lifestyle." you answered him looking directly in his eyes. "You have been spending wayyyy too much on me, baby. It feels like for a week alone, you already managed to gift me an entire month's worth of my salary."

"Fruit sold so well it's fair that my lady gets her share."

There he is again. Using his charm and sweet words to get to you.

"I love that you had such a provider mindset, that's very husband material of you." you said emphasizing your last phrase because you know you get him to listen to you when that kind of topic is brought up. "BUT you have to spend wisely. It's not everyday that you will sell well. What if a competitor comes and you lose all your costumers, then what? I would happily provide for us, but if we can avoid being broke then by all means let's avoid it."

Skye knows you and your history. You didn't come from a rich background and you had to work your entire high school until college just to finish studying so you know hard work and how important it is to be mindful of your purchases and seeing Skye just burn his finances like it doesn't hurt his pockets is something that you would just watch.

"What I'm saying is, you need to save up for your future. You never know what might happen."

He took your hand and laced it with his, bringing it up his lips and kissed it.

"Don't worry about that 'kay? I'm not spending more than what I can lose. We won't go broke." he said and smirked, "But I think I would spend more on you. I like it when you get so ... wifey. Makes me wanna put a ring on you."

You blushed hard. Feigning irritation, you took your hand back and crossed your arm.

"Well, I won't marry someone who doesn't care about our finances."

"Hey! Don't say that!" He made you face him but you won't budge.

He sighed defeatedly when you didn't speak further. "Fine. I would spend less."

You smiled and finally looked at him. "Promise?"

"Promise." he looked like a kicked puppy it's adorable. You kissed his cheeks to mend his broken heart.

"Love 'ya. Keep that up I might propose to you myself."

He was wide eyed when you said that.

"Don't you dare, sweetie. Let me do the proposing." he said.

"If you are gonna spend a couple of thousand dollars on it, then I would say no." you stuck your tongue out just to piss him off.

He chuckled at you and your childish antics, "A man don't kiss and tell about the prices of their gifts, sweetheart. You wouldn't know."

You just pinched his ears lightly careful not to hurt him. "Take me seriously, Skye. Don't spend too much on me. Save some for yourself."

"I know, baby. I hear you. I will try, okay?"

You nodded your head. That's good enough to hear for now.

==

You walked out of the cafe planning to chill in your home and watch movies when Skye received a phone call from his shop assistant Luke. He answered it while keeping his hand on your waist to guide you to the front seat of his car.

"Hello?" He shut the door to his side and started driving putting Luke in speaker mode.

"Boss Man, we're on our way to deliver watermelons. The client wants to meet you. It's important."

You can hear Skye grumbling under his breath. He hates it when these kind of things happen especially when his time with you gets cut short. You two only see each other once or twice a week and it really pisses him off when he can't spend it like he intended to. You took his free hand and held him nodding for him to go.

"But -"

"Do it. Visit me tomorrow or the next day. Just text me and I will take a day off." you said. You really missed him too but his business needs him and you won't be the one to cause it's downfall.

He just sighed and answered Luke, "I'll be there. I will just take Y/N home."

"Copy boss!"

==

He pulled up in front of your apartment. You can see that he hesitates to leave because he doesn’t even look at you and he has that little pout on his lips again. When Skye is like this, you really want to kiss him silly.

“Skye,”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Tsk.” He turned off the engine and went out to open the door for you. “I will be back as soon as I can, okay? I love you.”

You gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. You need your fill for when you wait on him.

“I love you too.”

You watched his car leave. Feeling hollow on your chest.

You went inside hopeful that he will see you in two days tops.

But then a week had passed and no message from him. You tried to call but it only rings.

It made you worry and you don’t know any way to reach him.

If you had known that it would be the last time you would see him after a very long time, would you have let him go?

note: how was itttt? i hope you enjoy. this will be at least 3-4 parts only. love you!!! reacts, comments and reblogs are much much welcome 🤗

[muqingslover]

Your latest fic destroyed me (in the best possible way, im weak to angst) and I've been binge reading the other stuff you have here in order to console myself lol (love it all btw!!)

What I wanted to ask is, what features do you think lads' kids would inherit from them? In the case of the guys that want kids ofc. I have this hc that Caleb's genes are stubborn af, and all his kids have his eye colour copy paste. (If you're open to requests, that is!!)

[ Thank you for your kind words anon! 💕💕 I'm always happy to hear that you guys enjoy my work! For those who are curious, this is the fic anon is referring to!

Your request ended being quite short though bc there really wasn't much for me to elaborate (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ I've mentioned before I don't see some of the boys with children, but I did them anyway for you to make up for the length! ]

⊹ His physical traits gene is like a Russian roulette, but his personality genes are unbeatable.

⊹ If Xavier was to have children they'd be as sleepy and clingy as their father.

⊹ They miiiight get his hair color, but the rest? A carbon copy of you.

⊹ I also feel like his children would be really whiny in a super cute, not annoying-toddler way.

⊹ The most adorable puppy eyes and pouty face. It feels impossible to say no to them.

⊹ The strongest genes known to man.

⊹ His children are literal copy-paste of himself. White hair, red eyes, dragon traits, ECT.

⊹ They however have your personality plus are also very, very high energy.

⊹ He absolutely adores them of course, but Sylus would ask to keep trying until he gets a mini version of yourself. What can he say, he loves you.

⊹ Oh and they're super high maintenance, much more than most kids. The twins do very little to actually help and just add to the chaos for most part.

⊹ The perfect balance of the two of you.

⊹ The little girl would have his green eyes with your hair and is just gorgeous.

⊹ The personality is a mix of both, except she is as smart as her father.

⊹ If you're an extroverted then she might be more outgoing compared to Zayne, though still enjoys sitting and playing by herself.

⊹ Annoying father = Annoying children.

⊹ Okay okay I'm joking! Kind of. The children all get his purple hair and dramatic flair.

⊹ And that my friends results in the little ones and their dad to butt heads all the damn time.

⊹ The only person they listen to is mommy, including Rafayel.

⊹ The mermaid lineage is also very strong so invest in a much bigger bathtub and prepare your heart for the water bill.

⊹ I totally agree with you that this man's genes are very stubborn.

⊹ You get a literal duplicate of him when that sweet little boy is born, personality and all.

⊹ This extends to his obsession with his mama and their silly banter over who gets to cuddle you to sleep. (He lets the little one wins because his heart is weak)

⊹ Personally though? Caleb wants a perfect mix of the two of you if you're willing to keep trying.

[bayjaruchel]

Underneath The Strobe Light

－－－

Pairing: Mike Schmidt (2023)/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You're aware of your feelings for Mike, but you're unsure if he feels the same. A single late-night conversation changes everything. (4.2k | originally posted on ao3 | Masterlist )

Extra Notes: Posted October 29, 2023

－－－

You know Mike, sometimes. Mainly in bits and pieces. 

You know he has that poster of Nebraska above his bed; you know he's got a soft spot for terrible eighties cartoons. You know he likes his steak well done. Maybe it's generally useless information — but you've tucked it all away in a dear corner of your brain, in a well-worn cardboard box with his name scrawled fondly on the side in Sharpie. 

He's been busy nowadays, especially with his awful new job at that abandoned restaurant. You've always been there if he needs someone to watch over Abby. It's a strange juxtaposition— spending more and more time at his house, but spending less and less time actually talking to him. But you know he's exhausted, both mentally and physically. 

You don't expect much. You don't need much. Even though Mike's always offered to actually pay you for babysitting Abby, you've always declined. 

However— needing and wanting are two very different things. 

And you want. So, so much. 

Sitting here, on the couch in his living room, your mind always wanders back to him. Abby's a really nice kid, even if she's a little on the eccentric side. Whenever you're sitting with her, watching her draw or watching the television, you can't really focus on Mike. But now, with her safely put to bed … There's nothing to stop you. Nothing to distract you from the empty spot next to you on the couch. 

You blink, already bleary-eyed from the hour. There's some mediocre sitcom playing on the television. It's practically white noise, and you can feel yourself slowly but surely being lulled to sleep. The stubborn part of you wants to fight it. The tired part of you wants to just let it happen. You fumble for the remote instead, switching the channel. 

World News Now? 

Not bad, you think wryly, slumping back into the pillows. You liked the guy playing the accordion and singing about the news, polka-style. Hopefully they'll bring that back. Maybe large broadcasting networks actually do know their audiences. 

Yeah, no. 

You stifle a yawn, tugging your blanket a little tighter. The room's dark, so the only real sources of light are coming from the kitchen and the bluish glow of the television. The only sounds besides that of the T.V. are the occasional car passing by, joined by the gentle chorus of crickets. It's quiet, but not in a discomforting way. 

It's kind of perfect. Like your own little bubble in the world. Untouchable. Not until the sun rises, anyway. 

Your bubble suddenly pops when a car pulls into the driveway, tires crunching on the pavement, and your heart skips. 

It couldn't be anyone else. 

About a minute later, there's the sound of keys turning in the lock. The door swings open and then shuts behind him. Softly. He knows Abby would wake up if he slammed it. Then there's the thump of him setting down his stuff— carelessly. 

The couch cushions squeak a little when Mike sits down next to you. Silently. He's gotten rid of that stupid security vest. 

"Hey," you offer. 

"Hi," he obliges. 

You're sure he's not really paying attention to the T.V. "How was work?" 

It's bland small talk at best, and brutally annoying at worst. But it's the only way to move into interesting conversation territory. And he didn't just trudge past you to go flop down on his bed, so you're assuming he does want to talk. You might pretend not to know, but you're well aware of his social life— or lack thereof. Everyone needs to talk, sometimes. 

"Pretty dull." Rolling his probably stiff shoulders, he lets out a small sound of discomfort. Sheepishly, he murmurs: "I kind of … I kind of just napped, to be honest." 

"Aren't you supposed to be a security guard?" You tease. "That's a really important job, you know. You have to stop all the dangerous teenagers from breaking in and spray-painting dicks on the walls." 

He huffs out something reminiscent of a laugh. "Honestly, the pay's too low to take it seriously." 

"And yet … " 

"There weren't any kids, okay?" Mike shakes his head. When you turn to look at him, though, he's smiling. It's faint, but it's there. "No dangerous teenagers that I had to fight off. It was fine." 

"Fine?" 

"Fine." 

You don't want to let the silence set in. 

"Oh, yeah, we finished the leftover spaghetti earlier. For dinner. I hope that's okay." 

"No, it's terrible," he deadpans. "I hate you." 

"Asshole." 

"Whatever." Mike snickers, and you bask in its gloriousness. "Yeah, it's okay. I know that I probably wouldn't have eaten it anyway. Did you, uh … " He pauses for a split second. "… Did you like it?" 

His tone makes you wonder, but you hastily brush it off. "Yeah, I did," you clarify, "the sauce was pretty great. Was it store-bought, or?" Because if it was, then where can I get it?

"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p'. "Great stuff, for something that's canned. But I always add a little more garlic powder, too." 

"Oh, really?" 

Mike hums an affirmation. "It's like magic, I'm telling you. Doesn't even take a lot to add flavor." 

"That's cool." You rustle with your blanket again, adjusting it more out of habit than anything else. That, and it's kind of cold. "I'll try and remember it for later." 

He's almost cheeky when he speaks. 

"It's life-changing." 

You can't help but snort. "You sound like an addict." 

Incredulously, he glances at you. "To what? Garlic powder?" 

"Pretty much, yeah." 

"I can't believe that you'd say that." He slowly shakes his head, for the second time in the span of roughly a minute. "Especially as someone who's experienced it firsthand—" 

"—you're the one talking about how life-changing it is—" 

"—you can't possibly ignore the irresistible savoriness of garlic powder." 

You look at one another for a moment. The sheer absurdity of the situation sets in all at once. And, well. He starts giggling, and you can't hold it in, either. How could you? Even though he looks at least part zombie, his eyes are still very much alive. Despite the blatant awkwardness and lingering shyness that always follows him around, he's still got a very contagious laugh.  

After you both calm down, he lets out a long sigh. 

"It's getting really late." 

You cling to what little stubbornness remains. "Yeah?" 

"Are you gonna head home?" 

Again, there's something there. Despite his nonchalant attitude, it's almost like— 

—but you're probably overthinking. Wouldn't be anything new. He has to get some rest, and so do you. The drowsiness repeatedly threatening to tug your eyelids closed is a testament to that. Normally, you'd just pass out on the couch or something, and take off early in the morning; before Mike and Abby wake up. But now, it's different. Now, you actually have to make a choice before your sleepy body makes it for you. 

"Um." You rub your eyes again. "I mean. I could, if it's bothering you—" 

"It's not." 

He interrupts you so quickly that it catches you off-guard. It seemingly catches him off-guard, too, judging by the way he promptly averts his gaze and pretends to care about the guy on the television going on about some sort of plumber strike in the city. 

"Oh." You need a second to process. "Oh, okay. Well, in that case … I don't really think that it'd be safe for me to drive right now." You laugh, a little too airily for it to be completely genuine. "I'd probably fall asleep at the wheel or something." At least that's the truth. "I'll just take the couch. As usual." 

"Okay," he says. He's back to murmuring. 

"And I'll be gone before you eat breakfast." Subconsciously, you're fiddling with the slightly frayed edges of the blanket. It's well-loved. "As usual." 

You think you hear him suck in a breath, seconds before: 

"Why don't you stay?"  

Your own breath stutters in your chest. 

"... what?" Is all you can manage, without horrifically humiliating yourself. 

"I mean," he rushes to correct himself, "you come by sometimes because you want to spend time with Abby— she likes you a lot, you know, sometimes I think she likes you more than she likes me . I think—" He's properly nervous now, his knee bouncing up and down. But he's already continuing before you can get a word in. "I think she'd like you to be here in the morning. And you don't accept pay, anyway. You just— won't." 

His nervousness is spreading to you. "Hey, I—" 

"Why are you here, anyway?" 

The question sounds like it's been a long time coming. He's demanding you now, brow furrowed and eyes sparking with emotion. "Is it out of pity? Do you feel sorry for me? Do you feel sorry for Abby? Because if you do, then— then you can just—" 

"It's not!" You exclaim. 

Immediately, you realize that there's a sleeping girl not too far away, and shamefully lower your voice. 

"... It's not, I promise. I just—" It takes a little while for you to gather the right words, and when you do, you don't drop your gaze from him. All of his previous frustration is all but gone, replaced by a slightly wide-eyed expression that's making your heart ache a little. "I genuinely really like spending time with Abby, okay? She's really sweet, and creative, and just a really great kid. And I—" 

You stop yourself. 

"And you what?" Mike asks, gently. 

Might as well, huh? 

"And I really like spending time with you, too," you admit, finally unable to meet his eyes and focusing on your lap instead. 

There's an incredibly tense beat, in which you swear your life flashes before your eyes. 

Then: 

He's barely audible when he speaks. His knee has stopped bouncing, but he's playing with his thumbs. Clearly, your confession— vague as it was— resonated with him, in some way. You hope he understands what you meant, because you couldn't possibly put it all into words in a way that would make sense. 

"Feeling's mutual," he mutters. 

Your head almost snaps up at that. Maybe you had expected it, deep down— you're not oblivious, duh— but it's one thing to have a hunch, and another to have that hunch proven. And out loud, no less. 

"Yeah?" You dare to ask. 

Slowly, he looks up. He meets your eyes. 

"Yeah," he repeats breathlessly, like the wind's been knocked out of him. 

You let your blanket fall from your shoulders, and it slides all the way onto the floor. 

You reach out. 

He lets you lace your fingers through his. 

Mike's palm is sort of clammy— and he's shaking a little— but he still squeezes your hand. On instinct, you guess. It still makes you smile. He doesn't return it, but his lips are parted a little, and you really, really like that. More than you probably should. You like a lot of things about him more than you probably should. 

You scooch a little closer, and he doesn't move away. You let your gaze drop back down to his lips again, making your intentions clear. Still, you don't know if it's clear enough. You lean in, just barely. 

"... Can I?" 

His reply is almost instantaneous. 

"Please."  

You swallow all of the witty quips you could make, and kiss him instead. 

He's very tentative at first. Like he hasn't done this for a while. But you ease him into it— and before long, he's got one hand on the back of your neck, the other somewhere near your waist. He tastes like coffee and something else you can't really put your finger on. It doesn't really matter, though. Because you are kissing him, damnit! 

His eyes are still shut when you part— with a soft smack — but they flutter open after a second. You're not sure if you're supposed to say something meaningful. Luckily, he leans in instead, and your thoughts are immediately transported elsewhere. 

You kiss like this for a while. It's really nice, and you know he needs it. So do you. 

However— when you start losing track of time, lost in the moment, he makes a noise. 

It's quiet, definitely. But it's nothing like the little hums and sighs he's been making so far. It makes you shift closer, pressing more insistently into him. And he responds, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around you, closing the little distance between your bodies that there was. You can practically feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest when you slip your tongue past his already kiss-swollen lips. 

He moans.  

You indulge yourself. For a little longer. And Mike chases you when you part. 

"We shouldn't do this in the living room," you whisper, nearly panting. "The couch is a little—" 

"Okay," he whispers back, already sounding wrecked. "Okay." 

You've been in his room before. You've sat on his bed— you've even laid on it before. But you've never straddled him on it before. It's a position that makes your head spin a little, and you occupy yourself with kissing him again. His hands fit perfectly on your hips, but they don't stay there for long, tragically— they trail upwards, up your waist, to your back. To your shoulders, and then back down again. It's as if he just can't get enough. You can't either. You need more. 

So, you tug at his shirt. He gets the message right away— hands scrambling to pull it up and over his head. He's still rather slim, but with a slight softness, mostly located in his midsection. There's a light dusting of dark hair on his chest, as well as the provocative happy trail leading down from his navel. You drag your eyes downward, admiring him, and then decide that you're wearing too much clothing. Your top comes off, dropped onto the floor near his. 

Mike takes more time to admire you when your torso is completely bare. His hands are warm on your bare skin, and slightly rough. Like before, he's hesitant at first, but when you encourage him— either literally or with physical indications— he grows bolder. His stubble scratches gently against you when his lips find your collarbone. 

You squirm a little, not even realizing it— and you feel him. Simultaneously, you both gasp. He's not fully there, but he's at least half-hard— and it can't be comfortable in those jeans. 

"Should I—" 

"Yeah—" 

With steady fingers, you unbutton his fly, and then unzip him. It's a little awkward when he shimmies out of the jeans, and when you wriggle out of your bottoms— you both snicker a little, but he's back to comfortably breathless when you settle back onto his lap. Under normal circumstances, you would tease him again. And yet, you can't bring yourself to. Not right now, at least. 

All you want to do is keep going. 

You roll your hips, testing the waters. His breath audibly hitches, and his hands fly up to settle back on your hips. He looks up at you, eyes already half-lidded— and they close when you grind down again. And again. His lips are clumsier this time when you kiss him, but he still reciprocates all the same. The sensation of him directly underneath you like this is intoxicating. You can feel every little twitch and every little jolt. 

"Fuck," he breathes, long and drawn-out, " God, I can— I can see the spot on your—" 

"Yeah?" You encourage, grinding down again, drinking in his answering groan. "You like that?" 

  "Yes —" 

"You want me to take 'em off?" 

Mike's pupils are blown wide, even though his eyes are already dark as is in the dimness of the room. He nods, once, then twice. "Yes," he murmurs. "Please," he adds, for good measure. 

He stares openly when you get off him, just enough to peel off your last remaining layer of clothing. And when you sit back down, well. It's obvious that you'll have to give him a second. "Can I," he says, finally, "can I touch you?" The way he's looking up at you again is just so sweet, so needy, that you consider saying no. Your throbbing core quickly shuts that idea down. 

"Go on," you encourage. 

He helps you move so he has easier access, and—  

His fingertips find your slit, already wet for him.

"Look what you did to me," you murmur. 

He visibly flushes— and then carefully works one finger into your slick heat. The feeling, combined with his thumb brushing against your clit— it's relief that you've needed this entire time, and you can't help but let a quiet sound escape your lips. It's apparently enough incentive for him to quicken his pace a little. Deliberately, he continues massaging your sensitive nub in a firm but easy pattern as he gently pushes a second finger inside you. 

Mike may be out of practice, but evidently, he still knows what he's doing. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, some more open-mouthed than others. Crooking his fingers, he maintains his diligent rhythm. A thought floats through your mind, unbidden— he must have strong hands, if he's been able to keep up like this—   

Two becomes three, and you're spreading your thighs a little wider for him. He's still transfixed, but speeds up at your urging, breath hot against the divot between your neck and shoulder. You chance a glance down, and you can see the visible outline of him through his boxers. You did that to him. He's desperate— for you. 

"Mike," you gasp, "nnh—" 

"Yeah, c'mon," he mouths, against your neck, "c'mon—" He's not letting up in the slightest, and when you tell him to, he speeds up again. He needs to see you cum just as much as you need to feel it. Your needs and wants are rapidly blending into one. You squeeze your eyes shut, but open them to look at him. His dark curls are a mess, his hand working tirelessly between your legs. 

  "Mike —" 

He says your name in return, like he's the one in the vulnerable position. 

"Mike , 'm gonna— 'm gonna—"  

"Please," his breaths are ragged, debauched, "cum, please, c'mon, lemme see it—" 

"Oh —" 

The tension snaps, and you spasm around his fingers. Your hips twitch, and you moan, your mouth falling open as you ride out your orgasm. You're rising— falling — molten honey pooling in your core, before flowing throughout your body. And Mike keeps going throughout it all, letting you enjoy the sensations until you're fully satisfied. 

Nearly boneless, you sag backward. His fingers, soaked with your glistening release, slip out of your cunt with a wet noise. He doesn't waste any time in bringing them up into his mouth, cleaning them off with his tongue— at the taste of you, he groans, even though it's muffled. Your mind takes a moment to catch up again with the world, but another thought manifests itself— how would he react, if you let him use his mouth on you? How would his head look between your thighs? He would be noisy, wouldn't he? Enthusiastic, pliant, and—

Your desire, although it waned for a short minute, comes back tenfold. But you take one look down again and— you can do that later. Right now, you want him inside you. 

Mike lets you tug him down for another kiss. He lets you feel the worn fabric on his thighs, almost playfully. When you palm him through them— he hisses through his teeth, hypersensitive even though you've barely touched him yet. You're going to fix that, though. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, you tug them down. 

You were right. He's desperate. As soon as his overheated skin meets the cool air, he lets out another quiet hiss. And when you take him in hand— 

"Mmh —" A firm stroke from base to tip, and you've already got him. He's average in length, but a little girthy. You know he'll be perfect. There's a little drop at the head of his cock, and you resist the urge to lick it off, focusing instead on warming him up a little. He whispers your name, once, when you pump up and down, twisting your wrist. 

"Got a condom?" You ask, stilling for a second. His eyes snap to you. 

"Oh my God, " he quickly mutters under his breath, before raising his volume, "uh, yeah, I think so. Lemme—" And he's already scrambling off the bed, opening the drawers of his nightstand with speed, but somehow simultaneously managing not to make much noise. He rifles through them, but soon emerges victoriously with what he was looking for. It's a little funny, how he doesn't waste any time in ripping it open and tossing the garbage into the mostly-overfull pail near his bed. Hastily, he rolls on the condom. You think he's expecting you to lay back or get up on your hands and knees so he can fuck you like that— you wouldn't be entirely opposed to it— but that's not what you want right now. 

You place your hands on his chest and push him back down so he's sitting against the headboard. He goes without complaint, even shifting when he understands what you want to do. He's flushed almost down to his neck. 

When you sink down on him in a smooth slide, still slick from earlier, you both moan. He sounds strained— he's biting his lower lip, squirming until he finally bottoms out. You have to take a moment to catch your breath, too; the fullness is just how you imagined, but it's so, so much, especially because of your lingering sensitivity. 

"I'm not—" He audibly swallows, hands tightening on your waist when you move just a little, "oh, fuck, I'm not gonna— I'm not gonna last long." He's babbling a little. "You're tight, fuck." 

You rock back and forth, once, and it's enough to force a choked noise from his throat. You watch his face, observing every little twitch, the clenching of his jaw. You can't hesitate for much longer, though— so you begin lifting yourself and dropping yourself down on his cock. Just in little movements at first, so you can get used to the feeling. His eyes squeeze shut— 

"Look at me," you demand, and he does. He doesn't try and thrust up into you when you really start to move. Up and down, up and down, with lewd plaps that accompany your sounds; his grunts—  you swear you hear him whimper .  His eyelashes flutter open and closed, as he struggles to follow your command, wanting to be good. For you. Even though you can see his thighs flexing as he holds everything back. You ride him for all you're worth. 

True to his words, you can tell when he gets close. Maybe he's been on edge this entire time. You thread your fingers through his hair— he buries his face into the crook of your neck, maybe out of embarrassment. You can feel how flushed he is, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies. Your muscles are aching, but you're determined to make him cum. You're determined to do this for him. 

He says your name, but it's more of a whine. "Please — I'm gonna— I can't — "  

"Go on," you pant, "you can. Don't hold back." Your arms are wrapped around his neck, now, holding him tight; just like his arms around your waist. The contact is almost too much, but somehow it's still not enough, despite him being inside you. "Go on," you repeat, after he whines again, the sound sending white-hot heat straight to your core. "Cum." 

Mike twitches, and you can feel him pulse— the sound he lets out is high-pitched, muffled into your skin. You slow your movements— the aftershocks of his orgasm last longer than yours. It might've been a little while for you, but it had definitely been longer for him. 

He doesn't let go, even after his breathing's slowed down. 

Gently, you pull his head back so you can look at him. He looks up at you with slightly wet eyes. The kisses you press to his cheeks and forehead make him scrunch up his face. 

"Hey," he rasps, "I gotta throw out the condom. Hang on." 

"Yeah, okay." 

When he slips out of you, you both sigh a little. With unsteady fingers, he ties up the condom before chucking it into the pail. 

The sheets are cool on your skin when he pulls them over you both. The room reeks of sex, but both of you are too exhausted to care. When you turn to lay on your side, he's behind you, throwing an arm over your waist. Tugging you closer. Almost absentmindedly, there's a kiss pressed to the back of your head. 

"Thank you," he mumbles. 

You stare at the far wall, unable to close your eyes just yet. 

"For what?" 

"For—" A pause. "For everything, I guess." 

The awkwardness is back. But you let it in. You smile. 

"You're welcome." 

He doesn't respond, but shuffles nearer, chest pressed up against your back. It's not long before you're both fast asleep. 

[a-hermit-pining]

Irrevocably Fond

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." (Emma, Jane Austen)

AN: keeping my word from the Spring banner

Pairing: Zayne x gn reader

Genre: Omegaverse

Ingredients: 95% fluff, 5% comfort

Summary: The first time you proposed to Zayne, you were both 6. At your father's tea party. While your mother bragged about her newest presents to her mate, you did the very mature job of gifting her emerald ring to your father, to Zayne, who professed a preference for sapphires.

(I do not own any of these characters)

"What will you be when you grow up Zayne?" Your mother asked the boy sitting next to you, happily munching on honeycomb snack (you offered him your share, because of how much he liked it).

"I want to be a doctor," Zayne replied without looking up. "A doctor of heart, so I can treat you," he looks your way, as if already planning your treatment.

You mother chuckles at that, "Oh darling, wouldn't that be a wonder," she wipes his face. "But a good omega must choose worthy profession."

You frown, just in time to protest, at how Zayne could be anything he wished, when your mother looked at you, "And what about you, what do you wish to be, my child?"

"Zayne's mate," you reply without missing a beat, grinning to reveal a mouth missing multiple teeth.

The adults in the room shake this heads fondly. Laughing off your childhood fancies.

Of his, to be a doctor, and yours to be his.

How foolish they were.

"For someone expected to lead the household, you sure are careless," Zayne frowns at the report, while your bask in his presence.

He is lovely. So very lovely.

You clutch your hands, resisting the urge to run your fingers through his hair. It wouldn't be proper, not until he accepted you.

And then agreed to a proposal. Which would take months, or years even if things were left at this pace.

The first time you proposed to Zayne, you were both 6. At your father's tea party. While your mother bragged about her newest presents to her mate, you did the very mature job of gifting her emerald ring to your father, to Zayne, who professed a preference for sapphires.

He denied every present, every proposal ever since. Never accepting it, yet not rejecting it either.

You had been waiting for 18 years, and you only loved him more. With ever passing day.

You could not understand how he could not be taken, how the world did not fall to its knees for him?

How could they not see the pure delight in his eyes at the sight of sweets, or how both animals and plants flourished around him, how incredibly stubborn he was to fight every label and become the first omega surgeon?

But you weren't complaining. You were okay without competition to fight. As long as, you got to be near him, for your proposals to be considered. You could wait.

You give him your honeycomb snack.

He doesn’t ask. You just do it. Press it into his hand like it’s sacred.

Zayne’s never had one before. It's sweet and strange and clings to his teeth.

“I want to be a doctor,” he mumbles around it. Your mother chuckles.

“A doctor of hearts,” he clarifies, glancing at you. “So I can treat yours.”

You grin, toothless and delighted. “Then I’ll be your mate.”

The adults laugh. Zayne doesn’t.

You shove a ring into his hand at a tea party.

Your mother’s emerald one. He blinks at it. Then at you. “I prefer sapphires,” he says.

You pout, but don’t take it back. He hides it in his pocket.

He never tells anyone.

You’re twelve when you beat up a boy for calling Zayne “useless.”

Zayne doesn’t say thank you. Doesn’t scold you, either.

He just sits beside you in the infirmary, quietly dabbing your bruised knuckles with ointment.

“I don’t need you to fight for me,” he murmurs.

“I know,” you say holding back furious tears. “But I will anyway.”

He doesn’t smile. But his hand stays on yours a little too long.

He’s sixteen and top of his class. You fail organic chemistry.

He tutors you. Ruthlessly. You grumble. He ignores you.

But he makes you tea every time. Always sweet, always the kind you like.

He pretends not to notice when you rest your head on his shoulder during breaks. He never moves away.

You’re twenty. Your parents are getting impatient. You’re expected to propose to someone else.

Zayne says nothing.

But that week, he texts you for the first time at 2 a.m. “Don’t do it.”

No name. No explanation.

You don't ask for one.

You never propose to anyone else.

He becomes the first omega cardiologist in the region. The press calls him radical. Dangerous. Revolutionary. You call him brilliant.

You bring him honeycomb snacks that night.

He doesn’t eat them right away. But later, you find the empty wrappers in the trash. Every single one.

You stop proposing after eighteen years.

He notices.

He pretends not to.

But every time you’re in the room, his shoulders soften. His voice lowers. He listens closer.

He never stops reaching for you when you’re near. Your sleeve, your elbow, your wrist, his fingers barely brushing yours in some unuttered need to be close.

You're sitting on a bench, half-asleep from a long day, post work, you insist on coming to him. He sits next to you.

“I still have that ring,” he says quietly, not looking at you.

You blink. “The emerald one?”

He nods. “It’s not a sapphire. But I’ve kept it.”

You stare at him. He finally meets your eyes.

“…Was that a yes?” you ask.

Zayne pauses. Then gently, carefully, takes your hand.

“I think,” he says, “it’s always been yes. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

[kisapmta]

one by one | c. sturniolo

masterlist

summary: a look into decorating your daughter’s room

pairing: christopher sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: the use of mommy and daddy but like NOT in a kinky way<3 also idk how accurate this conversation is for a four year old but ik your baby w chris would be a smart girl anyways

notes: one more blurb before i start school again tomorrow </3 this has been collecting dust in the drafts since this surprise came out.

word count: 1.3k

—

The ice dispenser was stubborn and got jammed a couple times, but finally, you managed and are now headed upstairs to your daughter’s room, hands full of bedroom makeover pick-me-ups. Three glasses of pepsi, two drinkable straight from the cup and the other topped with a pretty flower straw.

It’s the weekend and your day off from work, but you guys have been busy since the morning. Now that the pink paint on the walls has had the time to dry overnight, you and Chris have spent the past couple hours rearranging furniture and adding the final touches to your daughter’s room. Princess covers, a cozy mermaid lamp, and as per her request, sparkly star stickers.

When you make it back to the entrance of her room, you find the two of them exactly how you left them.

Chris is cross-legged in the middle of a fluffy heart shaped rug, leaning back on his hands as he watches your daughter who is sitting way too close to the wall. She presses a collage of pink stars to the surface in no particular order.

“Yesterday Ms. Claire gave me a gold star for my drawing,” your baby says mindlessly, tilting her head at the wall to figure out where to place the next sticker.

Chris gasps softly. “No she didn’t,” he replies. His tone is wondrous like he’s asking her to tell him more.

“Yeah. She said my drawing is perfect and she stuck it to my paper.” A boxy smile, the same as her dad’s, finds its way to her face. Her tiny voice is proud as can be.

“Perfect, huh? Bet you get a million of those stars a day then.”

A giggle almost escapes your lips when she nods smugly at Chris’s words. Like she knows, in fact, that she is perfect. You keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt their conversation.

“Yeah. More than all of these,” she claims, poking at each star on the wall one by one with her glittery finger.

Chris hums thoughtfully. "So can Daddy get a star then?"

Her finger freezes in the middle of the biggest star, her whole body pausing at the question. "Uhh," she says, voice serious in that very specific way only a four year old can manage. "But you only get stars if you’re perfect."

This time you can’t hold back your laughter. The sound draws both of their heads toward you, and you laugh even harder when you see Chris’s expression. His mouth has fallen open, still upturned at the sides, but his brows have pinched together in slight betrayal at her words.

“Baby that was a little mean,” you tease her, moving to set down the drinks on her night stand and sit next to her on the bed.

It’s clear from your daughter’s expression that she was genuinely just stating a fact, which somehow makes it even funnier. And Chris, of course, isn’t actually offended. But you still take the moment to say something you want her to remember.

"Daddy might not be perfect, but you don’t always have to be to get a star," you tell her, smiling gently as you brush a piece of hair out of her face. "That would make life way too hard, baby. Lots of times, you’re gonna get them for just trying your best."

She listens intently, her hands frozen in midair.

"I think Mommy would have zero stars if I had to be perfect all the time," you add, smiling at her.

She frowns slightly in confusion, thinking you’re still talking about the actual stickers. "I never even gave you any," she says.

You chuckle and scoot closer to her.

"No you haven’t," you grin. "And that’s the thing. Your stars aren’t always gonna be stickers. Just like mine aren’t—I have your dad instead." Her beautiful blue eyes grow wide, taking in your words. "And you," you finish, before attacking her chubby cheeks with wet kisses, your fingers tickling her sides until she’s a giggling, squirming mess.

From where he’s sitting on the floor, Chris can’t help but smile so big as he watches the both of you. Your words melt his heart and the sound of her giggles makes his chest swell; his entire world so happy together in each other’s arms.

Your daughter puts up with the tickling a little longer, then pushes weakly at your shoulders, laughter still bubbling out between breaths.

"Mommy stop," she giggles, her whole face lighting up.

You pester her for a couple more seconds before finally letting up, smiling so fondly at your baby as you squish her cheeks in your hands. “I just love you so much,” you tell her, “you’re so cute, oh my god.”

She sticks her tongue out at you, very reminiscent of her dad’s mannerisms, then giggles and pulls herself out of your hold to get back to her stickers. You place one more kiss to the top of her head and finally look back at Chris.

He’s watching you with the biggest grin on his face. You can’t hear his thoughts, but they’re sweet and so filled with love. You’re such a good mom, and she’s such a good kid, and he doesn’t know how he ever got this lucky.

You make your way to stand next to him. At his side, his hand slides around your hips as he leans his head into your thigh. Instinctively, you place your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his temple.

The moment is quiet as you admire the work of the room. The three of you are stuck in your own little worlds until Chris squeezes playfully at your bum to get your attention. You tsk at him.

“Chris,” you scold.

He laughs as he looks up at you, neck strained to see you from under the rim of his cap. “Sit down, baby, we’ve been moving all day,” he says.

You roll your eyes but listen anyway, fitting yourself beside him on the plush rug. Before you can get fully comfortable, you crawl forward on all fours to reach for the drinks on the nightstand. In the position you are in, you feel Chris pat your ass again.

“Yo can you stop?" you laugh, grabbing the glasses and returning to his side. You hand him his drink, but he doesn’t respond right away. He just smiles at you, soft and a little mischievous, like he’s about to say something—definitely dumb or inappropriate—but he stops himself.

Instead, after a moment, he finally replies with, "I love you."

You chuckle and shake your head at the words, but you still feel your chest warm. You glance over at your daughter making sure she’s distracted, and then flip his cap backwards, before placing a hand onto his jaw. You angle him towards you and there’s a second where you smile at each other, before you kiss him softly, then a little deeper.

“I love you, too,” you tell him against his lips.

—

Later that evening, as you get ready for bed, you giggle when you pull off your sweats.

"I must’ve sat on one of her stickers," you say, peeling a pink star off the butt of your pants.

Across the room, Chris tugs off his shirt and looks over at you, already smirking.

"No, I put that there," he confesses the earlier thought he never said out loud.

Your hands fall limp at your sides, the sticker dangling between your fingers. You tilt your head at him, silently asking ‘are you serious?’

Chris laughs at your expression and steps toward you. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you in by the hips, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Nothing more perfect than your ass," he says, grinning as he leans in close, "deserves a million stars in my eyes."

You laugh, half in disbelief, and toss the sweatpants straight at his face.

"You’re the weirdest person ever," you say, still grinning as he catches the pants one-handed and tugs you even closer.

—

a/n: i miss my future daughter</3 and i wanna be chris's wife</3

[explorevenus]

dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles. 

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now. 

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems. 

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make. 

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space. 

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side. 

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you. 

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon." 

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly. 

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you. 

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?" 

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment. 

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while. 

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true. 

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall. 

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge. 

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it. 

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab. 

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. 

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged. 

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that. 

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open. 

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!" 

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response. 

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now. 

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression. 

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view. 

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you. 

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him. 

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct. 

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?" 

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!" 

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed? 

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato." 

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be. 

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot." 

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you. 

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--" 

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!" 

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile. 

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to. 

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!" 

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half. 

"Leon, quit--" 

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him. 

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner. 

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs. 

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh. 

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?" 

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him. 

"N-No," You admitted. 

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?" 

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him. 

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat. 

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind. 

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now." 

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles. 

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears. 

That just wouldn't do. 

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?" 

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you. 

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass. 

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either. 

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality. 

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in. 

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..." 

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first. 

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him. 

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure. 

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now. 

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago. 

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort. 

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

[amiaclone]

Oh hello! I love the way you write, could you write something like the reader is pregnant by player 333 and he protects her no matter what in the games,ty ✨️

YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR PLAYER 333

Soo since this is basically just Junhee I’m gonna add a bit more to the plot if you don’t mind!

You were in the first games like Gi hun you didn’t win although you escaped after you lost at one of the games (let’s say marbles) was living with Gi hun for a good while then moved out etc met Lee Myung gi (player 333) got you pregnant did the scam etc anyways you wanted to help Gi hun but not get involved but Front man kidnapped you anyways for fun and well….here you are

Since I like Junhee I don’t wanna erase her so she’s like a spy or sm 😔 a whole different plot but interesting still

Anyways here it is!

Lee Myung Gi x Fem! Reader

You sighed in annoyance as your ex came to bother you about if you were okay or needed anything the usual

You didn’t even wanna be here but be with him? No way!

You won’t lie you *did* need help in a place like this but with him? No way!

“Do you need my extra milk? A place like this isn’t fit for someone like you! Bla bla bla” that’s all he ever said

Myung gi and you used to be one of those lovey dovey couples who you’d think would get married or something…..it could of happened if he didn’t end up with you losing your money and ghosting you

For the money? Meh you didn’t care as Gi hun managed to pay off your debts but ghosting? That was cold you called almost everyday and received little knowledge……yeah he deserves what’s coming to him

Currently it was after red light green light and he was bothering you about a new thing!

“You played these games before and never told me?”

You rolled your eyes “Yeah cause telling someone I was kidnapped and forced to play children games and could die is so believable”

He shook his head “Yeah well things like this aren’t just things you can forget about! How did you leave why did you go back-“

You turned to him rather harshly “Not that it concerns you but I don’t wanna be here just as much as anyone else” you sighed staring at your stomach for a bit your child could die here…..you could die here was it really worth it?

He noticed and stood firm “Well I’ll protect you” you gave him a small glare

“How am I supposed to know I can trust you?”

He shook his head “Don’t be stubborn y/n in your condition if the majority votes to stay….your chances are very slim”

You sighed looking up at the roof “Fine. But don’t think this means I have forgotten anything”

He sighed smiling that you’d agree maybe this is a chance to finally make things up with you?

Cue to the six legged pentathlon

You teamed with Gi hun followed by your ex who’s been following you around the whole time like a lost puppy except the puppy is preventing anything from even looking at or touching said person aka you

So far you agreed to do Jegi as it seemed the easiest

“Don’t you think it’d be dangerous-“

“I’m doing it”

Luckily we barely lived even though In ho/Player 001 nearly screwed it over for us and you all headed out

Once again Myung Gi stood by your side you even cheered with him for passing it he smiled

Oh wait your still supposed to be mad at him you quickly erased that smile with a frown

“Well thanks for protecting me i suppose you’ve been nice…”

“Nice enough for me to finally show you I’m sorry?”

“No”

He mentally groaned he knew he messed up but he really did miss you ghosting you was a big regret but he didn’t want you getting involved because people were trying to kill him!

Well atleast you’re nice enough to try tolerating that’s a start…

Cue to mingle

You haven’t seen Myung for almost the whole game and to be honest you were getting kinda worried you were with Gi hun and the team you formed back in six legged pentathlon

The new number was seven you grabbed onto Junhee a kind girl who told you in secret she was a spy for the government (Cool plot might use it for an oc) who you’ve bonded with the whole time you were here

You ran but someone fell you think it was Young Mi? Anyways just as the door was about to close *He* walked in

Ah typical Myung gi smiled staring at everyone specifically you as he expected to be seen as a hero

Why were you kinda relieved to see him?

Which you agreed he did technically save your lifes you empathised heavily with Hyun Ju banging on the door crying for Young Mi it gave you flashbacks of the first games you didn’t lose anyone typically close you can recall but still a sad time..

Anyways Hyun Ju blamed Myung gi while Myung gi defended himself and begged any of us to agree with him which you did

“I’m sorry about Young mi Hyun Ju but he’s got a point we all would have died”

Myung gi seemed relieved and when you were all walking out walked up to you “Thank you for defending me does this mean we can talk? Oh! Watch your step”

He points at the wall when you were a good distance from it you rolled your eyes

“This doesn’t change anything I just agreed with you cause you were right”

Before he could say anything the last round started

It said 2 and he immediately grabbed you before you could even comprehend who it was luckily he found a random door barely and slammed it shut breathing heavily

“Thanks” is all you could mutter heavily breathing

He smiled

“As long as I’m here I’ll protect you”

And why did you feel comforted by that….

I loved this one smmmm we need more Myung gi fanfics! Hope you likeddd it

[landososcar]

packing it up ; LN4

— pairing(s) ; college hockey player!lando x figure skater!reader

— summary ; in which lando's transfer to a new school not only brings him a new team, classes, and friends, but a girl who will change his life forever.

— warnings ; not edited, i'm not american, im also not a figure skater so there's probs plenty of inaccuracies lolll

chapter two — prev … next

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

that night, i couldn’t stop replaying the dinner conversation in my head. lily’s unwavering support wasn’t surprising—she’d always been in my corner—but lando? his empathy had caught me completely off guard. i didn’t know if it made me feel comforted or embarrassed. 

as i lay in bed staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

i sat up, my heart skipping a beat as i reread the message. my thumbs hovered over the screen, but i had no idea how to respond. why would lando go out of his way to talk to his mum about me? we weren’t close; i barely knew him.

but as i put my phone down, a spark of hope flickered in my chest.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i returned to the rink, throwing myself into practice with a determination that bordered on desperation. the icy air bit at my cheeks as i glided across the ice, pushing my body to its limits. the rhythmic sound of my blades slicing through the rink was usually soothing, but today it wasn’t enough to quiet my thoughts and the knot in my chest wouldn’t loosen.

i was mid-spin when a warm, unfamiliar voice called out from the edge of the rink.

“beautiful form.” startled, i faltered slightly but regained my balance before turning toward the source. a woman stood near the boards, dressed in a stylish coat and scarf, her posture poised and confident. there was something familiar about her—the same warm eyes, the same gentle smile, “you must be y/n.”

i skated over, unsure of what to say. “that’s me. and you are...?”

“cisca norris,” she said, extending a hand. “lando’s mum. he told me a bit about your situation, and i thought i’d come take a look.”

my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “oh, i—he didn’t need to do that.”

she smiled kindly. “he’s a good boy, my lando. and a little stubborn when he wants to help. i’m glad he told me, though. i can see you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” i said, still feeling flustered. “but i don’t even have a partner or a coach anymore. i’m kind of stuck.”

her expression softened. “you’re not stuck. you’re just at a crossroads. if you’re willing to put in the work, i’d be happy to help.”

“you’d... coach me?” my voice cracked slightly, disbelief colouring the words. i didn’t know what to say – i didn’t want to be a burden to her, and i didn’t know how to repay her.

she nodded. “i haven’t coached in years, but i still know what it takes. and i’ve got a really good feeling about you, y/n.”

i blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion. “thank you, b-but i don’t know how to repay you for this… i don’t know what to say.”

“say you’ll show up tomorrow ready to work,” she said smiling, “we’ll take it one step at a time.” i nodded almost desperately and she must’ve seen the water brimming on my eyes because she went to pull me into a hug, “and as for payment,” she said gently, “just make sure my son is feeling at home, would you?”

i laughed softly, wiping my eyes. “i was gonna do that anyway.”

“i thought you might say that,” she said with a smile, brushing an invisible strand of hair from my face before we parted.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

as i got back to my dorm for the night, i was greeted by my best friend’s beautiful smile. lily was sprawled across her bed, headphones on and sketchbook in hand, her pencil moving in quick, confident strokes.

she looked up as i closed the door behind me, her eyes lighting up. “hey! how was the rink?”

i kicked off my shoes, my heart still buzzing from the day’s events. “you’re not going to believe this.”

her eyebrows shot up in intrigue as she sat up straighter. “spill. right now.”

i tossed my bag onto my bed and sank into the desk chair, still trying to process everything myself. “okay, so... lando talked to his mum about me. apparently, she’s a former skating coach.”

lily’s jaw dropped. “no way.”

“and not only that—she came to the rink today. she offered to coach me, lily. can you believe it? out of nowhere, she just... showed up and said she wanted to help.”

for a moment, lily just stared at me, then she let out an excited squeal, throwing her arms in the air. “i knew it! i told you lando was the best! and his mum? she sounds like an actual legend.”

i laughed, her enthusiasm infectious. “she is. i mean, she’s amazing. the way she coaches, the way she just... believes in me. i don’t even know how to thank her—or him, for that matter.”

lily rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin in her hands. “you thank her by killing it at practice tomorrow. and as for lando...” she smirked mischievously. “you could always bake him cookies or something. or, you know, just say thank you like a normal person.”

i rolled my eyes, though i couldn’t help but smile. “i’ll figure it out. but honestly, it feels like things might actually be looking up for the first time in forever.”

lily beamed at me, her expression softening. “of course they are. you’re incredible, y/n. you just needed the right people in your corner. and now you’ve got them.”

warmth spread through me, easing some of the tension that had been weighing me down for weeks. i didn’t say it out loud, but lily’s unwavering belief in me meant just as much as cisca’s. maybe, just maybe, she was right. maybe things really were finally looking up.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i arrived at the rink early, my nerves humming with anticipation as i laced up my skates, the sharp cold of the ice already creeping through my layers. today wasn’t just another practice.it was the first step toward figuring out my future—and maybe, just maybe, rebuilding what i thought i’d lost.

as i stood on the ice, stretching and warming up, cisca arrived. she walked in with a graceful confidence that made her instantly commanding yet approachable. a small bag hung from her shoulder, and her warm smile made me feel instantly at ease.

“good morning, y/n,” she greeted, her voice as gentle as it had been the day before.

“good morning,” i replied, my voice trembling slightly with nerves.

she set her bag down on the bench and pulled out a notebook, “i have to admit, i missed this,” she said, almost to herself. “it’s been a while since i’ve coached, but it all comes back so easily.”

i couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm was a little contagious. “thank you for doing this. it means more to me than i can say.”

she waved a hand dismissively, though her smile softened. “lando said he’s been told you’re very talented,” she paused with a smile, “i think you’ve got some amazing friends willing to help you however they can… let’s get started.”

the next hour passed in a blur of movement and focus, diving into the intricacies of technique. cisca’s coaching style was unlike anything i’d experienced. she was direct, offering feedback that was honest but never harsh. when i struggled with a step or faltered during a spin, she didn’t scold; she analyzed.

“your jump is good, but let’s work on the timing of your takeoff,” she said at one point, skating out onto the ice to demonstrate. “if you push off too early, you lose momentum. watch me.”

she executed the jump with ease, landing gracefully and turning back to me with an encouraging nod. “now you.”

i tried again, this time paying closer attention to her tips, and when i landed smoothly, she clapped lightly. “there it is! perfect.”

her praise sent a swell of pride through me, something i hadn’t felt in months. maria had always been strict and demanding, rarely offering compliments unless the move was flawless. with cisca, it felt different. her belief in me wasn’t conditional; it was unwavering.

by the end of the session, my muscles ached in a satisfying way, and my spirits were higher than they’d been in weeks. i sat on the bench unlacing my skates when cisca joined me, her expression thoughtful.

“you’re a hard worker,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence. “that’s a quality even the most talented skaters can lack. if you keep that up, you’re going to go far.”

i looked at her, unsure how to put my gratitude into words. “thank you,” i said, my voice soft. “for everything. i don’t know how to repay you.”

her hand rested lightly on mine, her touch warm and reassuring. “you don’t owe me anything, y/n. i’m happy to help. and honestly,” she added with a playful smile, “you’ve already made it worth my while just by showing up and giving it your all.”

i chuckled, feeling my cheeks warm. “still... thank you.”

she leaned back slightly, her gaze turning more serious. “and don’t forget what i said yesterday—make sure lando feels at home here. he’s putting on a brave face, but i know my son. he’s adjusting, too.”

the mention of lando made me pause, her words stirring something in me. “i will,” i promised. “he’s been so kind to me already. he must get it from you.”

cisca smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that reminded me of lando. “he’s got his moments,” she said with a wink.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

later that afternoon, i found myself walking back toward the skating arena. lando had practice, and while i hadn’t planned on going, cisca’s words lingered in my mind. i owed him at least a thank-you.

the unmistakable sound of skates cutting across ice greeted me as i stepped inside. the cold air nipped at my cheeks, but the energy of the rink was infectious. players zipped back and forth, their movements sharp and deliberate, the clatter of sticks and pucks echoing through the space.

it didn’t take long to spot him. lando moved with a precision that stood out, his focus intense as he weaved through the defence. even as someone unfamiliar with hockey, i could tell he was good—really good.

when he skated off the ice for a break, he noticed me standing near the boards. his face lit up with surprise as he walked over, his cheeks flushed from exertion. “y/n! didn’t expect to see you here.”

i smiled, feeling slightly awkward because of the other men around us, but pushing through it. “i just wanted to say thank you. for talking to your mum. she’s... amazing. i can’t believe she’s helping me.”

he grinned, leaning casually against the boards. “told you she was the best. so, how’d it go?”

“she’s incredible,” i said earnestly. “i feel like i might actually have a chance now. i don’t know how to repay either of you.”

“you don’t need to,” he said easily. “mum wouldn’t do it if she didn’t believe in you. and honestly, i’m glad i could help. you’ve been through enough.”

his sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, i just looked at him, unsure what to say. finally, i smiled. “well, i owe you at least a coffee or something.”

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “i’ll hold you to that.” i laughed, watching him skate back onto the ice with the rest of his team before heading out of the bulky double doors and back to lily and i’s shared dorm. 

later that night, as i laid in bed trying to rid my mind of the pretty boy with the brown curls so i could sleep, my phone lit up with a notification. i sighed and debated on checking it, knowing the light from my phone would completely restart my attempt at sleeping. i grabbed it from the bed side table and couldnt help the upturn of my lips when i saw what it said.

landonorris started following you!

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

a/n ; i’m so sorry this took so long lmaooo chapter 3 is pretty much done so i’ll post it asap (fr this time)

taglist (comment or send an ask to be added<3) ; @leclercdream @britenysbitch @cabbyhabs @jule239 @tvdtw4ever @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @f1and1d4eva @sid-is-gr8

[fastandcarlos]

Silent Treatment : ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

summary: off the back of a pretty horrible argument, lance finds himself broken when you decide to give him the silent treatment

A sigh came from you as you walked through the front door, dropping your bag and slipping off your shoes. Lance’s eyes looked in your direction as soon as he heard you enter, smiling weakly across at you only to see you walk straight through the house and upstairs. 

“Love!” Lance called out, desperately hoping that you would turn back around and come down, but you didn’t. Your actions brought a groan from beside Lance too as your daughter’s confused eyes followed you. 

Her heart sunk as she watched you walk away, turning to Lance to try and make sense of what was going on. Lance equally felt guilt as he met her eyes, knowing that she was innocent in the argument that you’d had. 

“What’s wrong with mummy?” She asked him, climbing into Lance’s lap so that she was able to face him. 

Lance’s eyes closed for a moment as he let go of a deep breath. “Mummy got upset at daddy because he wasn’t very nice this morning,” he told her, “I thought maybe mummy would be alright when she got home, but I think she might still be annoyed.” 

Your daughter’s head nodded, “so you need to stop making mummy annoyed?” 

Lance couldn’t help but smile at how well she read the situation. “Yeah, I think daddy might have some making up to do with mummy, what do you think?” 

As much as he wanted to pretend like things were fine, Lance knew that you had every right to still be annoyed at him. He knew he’d dropped himself in it earlier in the morning with his words, and now as your daughter scolded him too, there was no avoiding what had happened any longer. 

“I want mummy to come and sit with us,” your daughter frowned, poking Lance against his chest in an attempt to try and get him moving. 

“Me too,” Lance whispered in reply. 

There was nothing worse than arguing with you, Lance hated when the two of you weren’t on speaking terms. He felt guilty at the best of times, but especially now that a small pair of sad eyes looked across at him too. 

“You stay there and I’ll go and see mummy,” Lance told her, lifting her off of his lap and onto the floor. “I’m sure mummy will come back down once daddy tells her that he’s sorry.” 

Your daughter nodded as she positioned herself in front of the television, willing to do whatever it was that she needed to do in order to see her parents back together again. 

“You can’t come back without her,” your daughter warned as Lance stood up and started heading to the stairs. “You have to just keep saying sorry to her.” 

“I promise that I will let her know how sorry I am sweetheart.” 

Your daughter flashed Lance a smile, as if she was sending him some encouragement. “See you in a bit daddy!” She called out, waving him off. 

“Behave yourself,” he jokingly told her as he disappeared. 

Lance’s footsteps were quiet as he reached the top of the stairs, noticing that your bedroom door was slightly ajar. You were laid out on your bed, scrolling through your phone, aware of Lance’s presence in the doorway, deciding to try your best to just ignore him.  

As he walked into the room, you remained still. Lance sat himself down on the edge of the bed, his eyes watching, hoping, that you would acknowledge him and mutually agree to stop the tension between you both. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance eventually spoke, “I didn’t mean to upset you with what I said earlier, they were stupid things for me to say anyway.” 

You turned your phone off, placing it down beside you as your eyes looked at Lance. You were still quiet as you sat expectantly, knowing that Lance still had more that he wanted to say. 

Lance slowly pushed himself further onto the bed for laying down and stretching out. He reached across and tried to rest his hand over yours, relieved when you stayed still and didn’t push him away. 

He had his moments when he could be stubborn, but Lance usually knew when the game was up and it was time to swallow his pride. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew things that morning were definitely his fault, he’d let his mouth run away from him without thinking, a habit that Lance had far too often for your liking when it came to your arguments. 

“I regret it, everything,” Lance whispered across to you. “To even suggest that you’re not doing enough for our family is ridiculous of me, you do more than I could ever wish for, apparently I’m just rubbish at appreciating all of it and keep taking it all for granted.” 

“I’m tired of you treating me like I’m some sort of slave around here Lance, we’re supposed to be a team.” 

His head nodded, understanding exactly where you were coming from. You’d decided to confront Lance about the share of jobs around the house, hoping he would get it. Instead, he went on the defensive, and ended up digging himself a much bigger hole then he could have ever imagined. 

“I know that I’m an idiot, most of the time, but I do see all the things you do, and even if I don’t always say it, I’m thankful for it. Every last thing that you do. I promise that I’ll do more, whatever you need me to do, we’re supposed to be a team working together.” 

“You’re not an idiot most of the time,” you reassured Lance, “only just some of the time instead.” 

His smile turned up as he heard the first bit of cheeriness in your voice. “Whatever needs to be done for the rest of the week I’m going to do, you can just put your feet up and relax. That’s the least I can do for being such an awful husband this morning.” 

Your hand turned, slipping your hand so that it was holding onto Lance’s properly. He shuffled closer towards where you laid, resting his head just above your shoulder and pressing a kiss against it. 

“I wouldn’t say something like that, there’s some pretty gross jobs that need to be done around the house that you don’t want to sign yourself up to.” 

“I’ll do them,” Lance shrugged, his voice full of confidence. “There’s a little girl downstairs who wants her mummy, so you go and entertain her, and I’ll do them all, no matter what,” he smiled, hearing little footsteps creeping up the staircase. 

You both looked as your daughter appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face as she noticed how close the two of you were to one another. She walked around to your side of the bed, holding both of her hands around your free one, bouncing on her toes. 

“Are you coming downstairs mummy?” She excitedly asked you, confident of the answer. 

Your head nodded as you and Lance both sat up. “Daddy’s got some jobs to do, so I’m going to come and play, if that’s alright with you?” 

“Yeah!” She yelled out, standing in between you both so you both held onto one of her hands. “I’m glad you are friends again.” 

“I’m glad we’re friends again too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[mshalfemptygirl]

Cupid (S.R)

Plot: Our favorite Doutor confess feels to his best friend also co-worker, Y/N.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Contents: Really quicky mention to drinks, cases, makeout but fluffy for sure.

A/N: hello readers, I disappeared for a year because of work and college and a serious health problem but I'm better than ever and coming back to writing has brought me back to life. I hope you like her because she's cute, a couple from a romance movie basically, so like and share if you like it.

"Alright, Spence. What are your thoughts on the woman over there in the dark green dress? She looks elegant, charming, and quite attractive. She might even share an interest in the books you enjoy, don’t you think? What’s your take?" I gestured toward the woman who had just taken a seat at the bar, alone. I was on a mission to play matchmaker for Spencer. Although he hadn’t asked for my help, I thought it would be useful to offer a female perspective. Spencer’s inherent shyness meant he needed substantial guidance in social situations, especially when it came to women.

The ambiance was pleasant. We were seated at a table near the main entrance. Given that it was Thursday, the bar was relatively quiet, but it was the only day we both had free to unwind after a grueling series of cases in New York. Honestly, I’m not sure what’s been happening this past month, but I’ve reviewed so much material that when I close my eyes, I still see the words on the pages. And Spence? The poor guy has never analyzed so many maps in his life. I thought this break was well-deserved, and he certainly deserved a chance to spend time with someone special. Well, both of us could use a moment with someone, but I’m on a cupid’s mission and need to stay focused—no distractions, no more than three drinks.

"She’s attractive, but I’m not fond of blondes, and she seems a bit too tall for my taste. I don’t think it would work out," he replied. I frowned and looked at him with disbelief. This was the fifth woman he had dismissed that evening, and his options were rapidly dwindling. I downed my beer in one gulp and stared him down, hoping to make him realize it was now or never. "Spence, you don’t need to be so selective. I understand it’s challenging for you, but you’re only looking for someone to kiss. I’d love to kiss that girl! She’s stunning. Just approach her, buy her a drink, and then kiss her. Go on, now," I urged impatiently. He needed to make the first move.

"I understand, Y/N. She’s attractive, but I don’t want to kiss her, that’s all," he said, turning back to the bar and taking a sip of his whiskey. I knew him well enough to sense he was hiding something. This was a significant step for him, and despite our discussions about taking a break, he seemed reluctant to pursue it. Ugh, he could be so stubborn.

"I know there’s more to it, love. Are you feeling overwhelmed? Am I being too pushy, is that it? I’m sorry if I’m a bad cupid. I’ll stop. Look, I’m waving the white flag—peace," I said, grabbing a napkin and waving it theatrically. I flashed a grin, and he chuckled. It was always like this: he was the serious one, and I was the humorous one. He loved books, and I adored movies. He was the little angel, and I was the little devil. "Very amusing, but I swear, I have nothing to hide from you," he assured me.

"Spencer..." I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. He looked uncomfortable, but he started to speak anyway, with a hint of resignation in his voice. "Well, there’s this girl I’ve developed feelings for... she’s incredibly nice and fun. When she talks to me, I can’t think of anything else. I’m not sure how to articulate my feelings, but I don’t want to kiss anyone else. She’s everything to me now." I was overjoyed and exhilarated. I’d never seen Spence so in love before, and now he had someone special in his life. Of course, I felt a twinge of jealousy, but I was also genuinely happy for him. This was a delightful surprise.

"Spencer Walter Reid!! Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?! Did you—" I exclaimed, relieved that the bar was mostly empty. His face flushed red as he tried to cover my mouth with his hand. "Y/N, please don’t shout!!! I didn’t know sooner, I didn’t realize it until now..." he explained. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my excitement. "Alright... you need to go talk to her right now and give her a proper kiss! I’ll handle things here. Just go for it!"

He looked at me wide-eyed, his hands on my shoulders. "You really think so? Are you sure?" I snorted. "Absolutely, go now." And that’s when he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as if steeling himself for what he was about to do. His fingers gently gripped the back of my neck, his touch both tender and urgent. He leaned in, and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin before our lips finally met. I was stunned, my body tensed, and my eyes remained open for a moment, but his lips were so soft that I quickly surrendered to the kiss. Our lips moved together in sync, and I felt a profound connection. He wasn’t as shy as I’d thought—he had a way with words and was incredibly sweet. I couldn’t explain it, but he was perfect. Suddenly, I found myself bewitched by the very arrow of Cupid I had sent forth.

As we broke away from the kiss, I gazed at him, utterly bewildered, my heart racing with every beat. "Spence, what was that? You just..." I asked, my voice trembling with genuine confusion. He looked at me with an expression that blended sincerity and vulnerability before responding in a tone that was soft yet deeply meaningful: "Well, the truth is, the woman I’ve been admiring all along is you. I’m sorry if this comes as a shock, but you asked me to act, so I did."

I was momentarily stunned, a whirlwind of emotions overtaking me. How could I have been so blind not to notice this sooner? I opened my mouth for the first time in minutes to speak my heart. "Spence, there's no need to apologize. I'm just... surprised! That was really something," I said, still trying to wrap my head around the moment. I paused, letting it all sink in. "So, does this count as our first date, or would you rather have a more traditional one?" I asked with an amused tone, trying to ease the tension that had built between us, feeling a bit uncertain about what came next.

"Oh, I definitely want another date. How about I take you out for dinner, and you wear that dark blue dress you had on at Rossi’s? I love the way it looks on you," he said, his words making a warm sensation spread through me. "You’re so sweet, Spence. I hadn’t really noticed it before. If I’d known you kissed like that..." I replied with a laugh, hugging him tightly. "And you can bet I’ll wear the dress if it makes you happy." With a gentle caress on my face, I brushed his bangs off his forehead, feeling a bit strange about kissing one of my best friends, but I was glad he had the courage to confess something so significant.

I looked at his face again and could see him a bit embarrassed by the events of the night that had unfolded in a public place. It wasn’t something he had planned, and he likes to plan things. "Y/N, may I kiss you a little longer?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for permission. Instead of answering, I pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss, savoring the moment.

Talk to me

Spencer Reid Masterlist

A/N: let me know if you want me to tag you

[nanaooyoo]

nct jisung oneshot

request for anon: you have a kid without your highschool boyfriend ever finding out. sorry this request took a long while my life has been so insane lately that I haven’t had time to do much of anything besides work. Anyways enjoy ✨

warnings/headsup: light swearing • teen pregnancy • tiny bit of angst • major fluff fest • 7.8k words • female reader • light proofread • jisung x reader kiss • melodrama • crisp autumn vibes • dad!jisung • D/N = daughters name • miscommunication • so much cheesiness

Moving On: Jisung x Reader pt. I/I

High school was a complicated time for Jisung. He was managing school, keeping up with friends, dealing with his overbearing family, and a slew of extracurriculars, all while making sure to pay attention to you; his girlfriend. Sometimes it all felt like too much, sometimes he felt like he should just quit. Nevertheless, you were always there to support him. You were constantly by his side and that’s what really mattered. Whether it was bringing him snacks in between classes, helping him study during free periods, waiting for him at the dance studio while he practiced, or just being a shoulder to lean on and a safe space to vent whenever he may have needed it you were there... Jisung couldn’t even express how grateful he was for having you around! Even with all his appreciation and love for you however, he still wasn’t aware of just how far you were expending yourself to keep him happy and healthy.

People often joked about just how close you two were, how you were like second mother to Jisung and his entire friend group, the way you were always ready and able to give them rides and take care of Jisung and all the people important to him. Jisung’s mother would have probably said the opposite. Though she was never overt about it you know she didn’t like you. She would scowl whenever Jisung left you two alone together and the smile she forced on her face whenever he brought you home was just about the fakest thing you’d ever seen. Jisung always tried his best to talk you up to his parents, but where his mother was stubborn and resentful, his father was uninterested and indifferent. He didn’t want to believe that the people that had raised him couldn’t see in you what he saw, it pained him to think about so he just didn’t. He was in complete denial most times about the relationship between your two families and the fact that you came from much lower economic means didn’t help your case. When he first pitched the idea of you being his girlfriend to his mom and dad that was the very first thing they pointed out in fact! That didn’t stop him however. He would just tell himself that they were overly protective and that you and his mom were actually quite similar. You two would have to get along at some point… at least he hoped you would…

Jisung almost never failed to point out your motherly instincts: to protect him from bad news, to make sure he excelled in everything he did, to simply keep his head afloat. Unfortunately, no one knew just how that instinct would eventually have to develop. For better or for worse that instinct might have just been the end of the life you were once so used to.

It was late spring when you started noticing a bizarre sense of dread in the air as the reality started to set in for everybody that lives were starting to shift and change, and relationships were experiencing a much different sort of ebb and flow. No wonder you felt a little sick, it was the dread in the air! Right?

Sometimes your period was late… but it was never this late... You had no idea what you were supposed to do in a moment like this! A wave of anxiety washed over you and your body as you began to feel queasy. You felt nauseous, and even a fair amount afraid. This might have been the absolute worst time in your life for something like this to happen! You were so close to wrapping up high school. Senior year was supposed to be the last year of you and your peers lives before becoming "real" adults. You were deciding which university to go to and what subjects to major in. You were getting ready to say goodbye to friends and unfortunately hadn’t yet had the sit down talk with your boyfriend about if he was comfortable going long distance or even staying together at all…

You loved Jisung, you really did, but you also loved the idea of a bit of freedom. You would never explicitly say that to him for fear of hurting him or just sounding like you wanted to complain, but you were tired. Tired of being so busy, tired of so many people depending on you, tired of always being referred to as Park Jisung’s girlfriend, tired of his family looking down on you and yours. You honestly thought that most people had forgotten your name at this point. You wanted something of your own, something to explore outside of and away from Jisung, however sweet he was. You thought that college might be time for a change! A chance to reinvent yourself apart from your high school boyfriend and the hovering hand of his mother. No matter how lovely and accomplished he was, you two couldn’t be together forever right? At least that’s what you told yourself. You thought of your parents, you thought of Jisung’s parents. You were sure that if the Park family didn’t already detest you they surely would now. You dreaded what two little lines on a flimsy piece of plastic might mean for all of that. His parents already thought of you as unsophisticated, a burden to Jisung’s future and this would not help your case. You knew you had to tell Jisung while he was still around but you just didn’t know how… but first you had to be sure what you were planning on telling him.

You sat on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat all alone but face still flushed with warmth from embarrassment. You got up and washed your hands and gave yourself a once over in the mirror. You barely recognized your own visage. The bags under your eyes had bags, and the dark circles looked more like new permanent attachments than temporary indications of sleepiness. You subconsciously prayed to whatever god was out there that your period was just late again this time. “It’s just two or three weeks” you told yourself looking back to your reflection in your bathroom mirror and plastering on your best cheery smile. It only lasted a moment but for a fragment of a fragment of a second you were almost smiling genuinely no matter the result.

You went and did a quick lap around your house to release as much pent up stressful energy as possible but also to make sure your parents really were out of the house. You peeked out through the living room curtains one last time just making sure that there were no cars other than your own parked in the driveway. You ran back up the stairs as soon as you heard the faint ringing of the alarm you had set on your phone. You couldn’t stop the trembling of your hands as you picked up the little pink and white pregnancy test you had set on the edge of the counter. You sucked in a deep breath, inhaling sharply through your nose as the sheer terror and excitement of what you were looking at created a blockade in your throat. You felt a tingling sensation all over, unable to properly breathe, only sucking in air for another few seconds before finally letting out your first breath in what felt like several minutes.

Although, it wasn’t just any regular breath, it was a laugh. Well less of a laugh and more or a low groan that slowly turned into a chortle. You practically keeled over as you fell to the ground on your hands and knees, stomach and back heaving as sloppy tears fell down on the sides of your face and almost splashed back into your eyes with the velocity at which they hit the tiled floor. You didn’t know what your reaction would be once you looked at the test but you definitely did not expect this! You were so afraid before, so worried, so adamant that you wanted, needed it to be negative! Now here you were staring at the two thin lines on the near microscopic test screen indicating a positive result and all you could think of was how you hope’d it’d be a girl.

𖦹

“So I have good news and I have bad news” you whispered to Jisung as you two sat in the back of the school library “do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first”?

“Uhm I don’t know… I guess the bad news” he said.

You screamed internally, wondering why he just had to choose the bad option first. Jisung rifled through several books struggling to pick one for a final paper, paying you little mind as he laced his fingers through yours absentmindedly and dragged you down each aisle of bookshelves behind him.

It had been about a day or two since you had taken the test and you had even talked it over with your parents. They were understandably uneasy at first when you said you planned on keeping the child but you assured them that you would absolutely keep working on your studies. You told them you would talk to Jisung yourself and figure out the rest from there, and all your parents could do was support you and whatever decisions you made, the best they possibly could. They could see the stress in your eyes as you mentioned next steps. Though your parents supported your relationship they weren’t too fond of Jisung’s family either. The pretentious nature and lack of grace when talking about their son’s girlfriend, your parent’s daughter, it made them upset to say the least. The thought of having to join your two families was the last thing they wanted to think about right now. You explained to them in detail exactly how you wanted to move forward with your life and what you planned on telling your boyfriend in the process. “Just let him down easy” your mother said, knowing how difficult of a conversation this would be, especially to have so young “don’t tell his mom… tell him.” Your mother’s voice was emotional and awkward and your dad gave you a half hearted smile and stiff hug. Their words rang in your head as you looked up at Jisung.

“Are you sure you want to hear the bad news first?” You asked, hoping that if you told him the good news was that you were pregnant, he would already be on board to end the relationship and you wouldn’t have to say what you had to say next and his mom would never have to be proven right about how messy she thought you were.

“No I want to hear the bad stuff first and just get it over with” he said reaching over you with ease to grab a book off the highest shelf. “Hey do you think this would work?” He clicked his tongue paging through whatever novel he had picked up this time.

You sighed… “okay but it’s really important so I need you to really listen!”

Jisung continued checking out books and only really half listening to you. “Of course” he said as he carried on skimming all the literature around him.

“Jisung I’m serious! I didn’t want to do this here but this is the first time we’ve been alone together all week!”

“Totally…” he responded

“Jisung look at me!”

“I am looking at you…” (he wasn’t). He kissed your hand tenderly, muttering the words on the page he was looking at to himself.

“Jisung!”

“What babe?”

His nonchalance angered you. Couldn’t he tell how upsetting this was for you? “Jisung I want to break up!” You swore you could hear a pin drop on the complete opposite side of the library. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest in the time it took for Jisung to fully absorb what you had said. Those few seconds felt like an eternity, but once they were over you already wanted to go back to before you had said anything.

“You’re joking…” he said, actively scoffing in your face.

What ensued was potentially the first and only ever argument between you and your then, now ex boyfriend. All you really remembered was how he kept asking "why". You told him all the little reasons, how you wanted space, how you couldn’t do long distance, how your families would never get along, but you omitted the most important reason... Sure those other things were true but you also just couldn’t see yourself raising a child with the first guy you had ever slept with, and Jisung had so much going for him, you knew there was no way a dance career could have him stationed in one place long enough to focus on a new family. His mother would never let him have a kid with you, you just knew it! She would think you were trapping him, his father would question you incessantly, and Jisung would eventually have to choose between his prospective future or yours. So you decided to choose for him.

“So we’re just over then” his voice was hoarse and defeated “you don’t want to see me again”…

All you could do was nod “this one should work well, it fits all the criteria for the paper”. You said, handing Jisung a hefty book of the shelf, helping him for seemingly the last time…

You couldn’t completely avoid Jisung the last few weeks of school. You both had sort of silently agreed to keep as much distance as possible, only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary. When people asked why you two had broken up you both had slightly different answers but they both went along the lines of “growing apart.” It really hurt to think about, especially all that was left unsaid but you simply had to trudge forward. The last time you saw Jisung was at graduation where you each exchanged a friendly yet faintly sour handshake and wished each other good luck. You watched the smug smile on his mother’s face as you two parted ways and the way she turned up her nose when your dad foolishly went in for a cordial handshake.

You sort of regretted not telling him about your ‘situation’ but you also felt like it was for the best! You thought you might never see him again and once your daughter D/N was born nothing else mattered. You put off school for a bit, moved to a new town and got very used to living alone with just you and your little girl. You put all your best skills to use once you had entered university. All your experience planning, keeping others organized, staying on task, and being a mother really lended itself to your field and your incredible business acumen was undeniable. You worked hard to make sure that you and your daughter could live in the best house, afford the nicest dinners, get the very best babysitters, and whatever else would make the little one’s life easier.

Obviously you still thought about him. Every time you looked at your child’s face you saw him. Every laugh, every cough and sneeze, every silly statement, every whine just reminded you of him. She never asked about her father but you wondered if she would eventually start. You sort of did want her to meet Jisung but your life had changed so much since, you wondered if after all these years if he would even care. You weren’t immune to looking him up every now and then or asking your parents if they had heard any news about him or his family. You suspected he would be angry or hurt if he found out, and he had every right to be. Despite that though, you still just wanted to see him again, even if it was just to yell at you for lying or cuss you out, even for just a brief moment you wanted to see him…

𖦹

“There’s no way… there’s no way…” Jisung muttered to himself slowly bringing his shopping cart to a halt and planting his feet firmly in the middle of the aisle. People gave him dirty looks and confused stares. He stood there, oblivious, only focused on a woman about his age, a woman he’d recognize anywhere even from a hundred feet away, a woman who nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces and broke up with him before moving across the country and becoming the most successful person from their high school by a mile. It couldn’t be, or rather it shouldn’t be!

What were you doing back in your home town? He wondered. The last he had heard you graduated college with about a million academic achievements under your belt, and were making more money than he could ever dream of at some big conglomerate. Though there you were, same put together appearance, same pretty face, same sweet voice, bending over to talk to a little girl who looked just like you. He did a double take, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. He squinted and blinked and did just about everything he could to clear his vision but nothing changed. All he saw was you.

He felt like he had to say something… if he didn’t he thought he might go insane. What kind of guy would he be to just ignore your presence. Sure you two hadn’t ended things on the best note but that was years ago, and you were just kids at the time! Maybe you’d forgiven him at this point. At one point Jisung wasn’t sure if all the resentment he once held for you was gone but seeing you in person just confirmed that it was. There was no reason to be mad anymore. He really missed you. He just wanted to talk to you again…

Was it really you standing there? The child didn’t look that old but was she really yours? Had you moved on so quickly after leaving town, after leaving him? Who were you with now? His head was spinning like a freshly oiled revolving door and full to the brim flooded with questions.

Jisung felt like his stomach did a 360 degree flip as he tepidly approached you. “Y/N” he stated more than asked hoping but already knowing it was you. Though, in case he was wrong he braced himself for a much more awkward encounter.

You almost dropped the can of food you were holding blinking rapidly and registering the person before you. “Jisung?” You said, giving him a once over. He was somehow even taller now with jet black hair and dark thick rimmed glasses slightly covering his tired brown eyes. He was as cute as ever. There he stood looking pretty much the same as he did when you left, but boy was he handsome!

“Jisung what’re you doing here?” You asked out of impulse, already knowing the answer. You acted like you hadn’t heard he was in town from your mother who ran into his folks a couple weeks ago, who proceeded to unabashedly brag about their son to her. Of course you then immediately went and stalked him on social media.

“I- I came back recently for a family reunion…” his face was a bit strained as he said it and then he trailed off, noticing the little girl who shyly held your hand once more. Up close she looked ever more like you, down to the way she looked him up and down and examined him with curious eyes. She stared without a shred of recognition on her face or in her eyes but still refused to break eye contact with the strange adult towering over her. He also couldn’t help but notice the way her cheeks rounded out the same way his did as a child and how her face transitioned into the same confused expression he made, mirroring him perfectly.

“What are you doing here?” He said trying his best to look at you and to not stare back at the little girl clinging to your side examining him like a foreign creature trapped behind bars at the zoo.

“I’m visiting my parents” you said clearing your throat a bit “with my daughter.” You raised her little hand trying to make her wave.

“How old is she?” He asked, mentally doing the math of just how long ago you two broke up.

“She’s five…” you said bashfully. You tried to run every possible scenario in your head about what the best course of action would be in this moment. Was it selfish to just keep the information to yourself, or was it better to just tell him now. Maybe the grocery store wasn’t the best place to let Jisung know that you’ve sort of been hiding a secret daughter from him for the past five years, but also the longer you hid it from him the worse you felt. You had to tell him, it really felt like now or never. You had kept her from him for so long it just felt cruel at this point. Plus, even though your daughter was young the way she eyed Jisung up and down made you feel paranoid enough that she had already figured it out herself. Maybe Jisung already knew too, maybe he wanted nothing to do with you or more importantly with her, but you still had to tell him. The words had to come out of your own mouth whether you wanted to speak them or not! You had to make up for the immature decision you made at that time. It was like you were in that library all over again...

“Hey do you want to meet up- I mean we should probably talk, it’s been a long time”. You fumbled over your words not sure exactly what to say.

Jisung perked up “I’m free tomorrow. If you wanna grab coffee!” He was happy you took the initiative to invite him out because god knows he didn’t have the courage to do it himself.

“That sounds... nice!” you said as the little girl tugged on your arm mumbling something about wanting to watch some tv show at grandma and grandpa’s.

“I assume your number’s still the same.” He said remembering all the times he meant to text you but stopped himself out of fear.

“Yeah it is.” You said. You felt the same giddy feeling you got on the first day of high school when a cute boy in your homeroom asked for your number for “study purposes.” There was that cute boy once again standing in front of you giving you the same smile he gave you when you first met. A smile you hadn’t seen in years, but healed a hurt you didn’t know you had inside instantly.

You had to chew on your cheeks to hide your smile as you drove home. You could see your daughter in the rear view mirror drumming her little fingers on the arm rest of her car seat along to the music on the radio. You would peek at her every once in a while and try to gauge her focus. What was she thinking about? Was she afraid of him? Was she curious about him? Did she even care?

You cleared your throat only half getting her attention as she sang along to the words of whatever song was playing, mostly making up her own lyrics and swaying in her seat. “So what did you think of mommy’s friend?” You asked.

She didn’t respond for a bit or even give you any indication that she heard you. She was silent for a few minutes before speaking. “He’s nice… but… too tall…” she said.

“You might be tall like that one day” you chuckled “would you ever want to meet him again?” You wanted to at least have an idea of what to tell Jisung when you saw him next. In your mind, your daughter’s opinion (though still young and uninformed) mattered the most. If she wanted nothing to do with him at this time it didn’t matter what Jisung’s response was. All that mattered was her and what her needs were.

“Is he good at playing games?” She added out of the blue.

“What?”

“Mommy’s friend... Is he good at playing games?”

“Uhm, I guess so? From what I remember he was always fun. I’m sure he’d be good at playing games.” You smiled at her through the rear view mirror a little “Why D/N? Did you want to play a game with him?”

Your daughter just looked out the window and nodded her head, soon after getting distracted. “When are we getting home? I wanna watch my show.” She huffed and grumbled almost like an adult. Almost like Jisung.

“Soon.” You said.

As you pulled into the driveway and walked into your parent’s house, your daughter was practically vibrating with energy. She practically dove out of the car as you unbuckled her seatbelt, running into the home as your mother opened the door and greeted her with a big hug.

“How was the store?” Your mother asked as she ushered your little one down the hall to go bother your father in the living room.

“It was alright… I ran into Jisung…” you walked over to the kitchen and placed a few shopping bags on the counter.

Your mother looked surprised “both of you?”

You sighed “both of us.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked to grab coffee, he actually seemed happy to see me!”

“Were you happy to see him?” Your mother asked.

“Of course I was! It was awkward but I have to tell him sooner or later. Whether he wants to be in her life or not I have to tell him.”

“-and you think the best way to do that is over coffee?”

“No!” You said. “But I might not have another chance.”

Your mother looked at you with this awkward guilty expression on her face. She started to unpack the groceries biting her lip and looking everywhere but into your eyes.

“What? Do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?”… there was silence as she opened the fridge and began to rearrange some condiments, suspiciously shaking her head as if to neither completely agree or disagree. “You think I should keep it from him? Mom it's been long enough, it would just be wrong to not tell him. D/N wants to meet him! Why are you being so weird about this? Aren’t you the one who told me I should tell him the next time I see him?”

“What if he already knows?” Your mother blurted out.

“So what if he already knows…” you furrowed your eyebrows “wait… what do you mean?”

“Nothing” your mother said.

You knew that was bullshit. “Did you tell him?” You asked in a frustrated tone. “You told him didn’t you—”

Your mother looked at you and then went back to avoiding your fiery gaze. She was never good at keeping secrets but you thought something of this magnitude would be able to stay hidden. She promised to let you tell him on your own terms, so why had she betrayed you?

It took her a while to fess up but eventually she did, sort of… “I didn’t tell him directly, it just sort of slipped out… I— I just had to say something she was so… ugh!” Your mother groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked and took a deep breath. Your mother swallowed harshly and looked down at the floor. “I promise to hear you out, I just want to know what I’m getting into mom.”

“It was around last month… Your dad has been golfing so much lately, so he got us a membership to the country club with the money you gave him for his birthday. I don’t personally use it much but he loves it down there, and I like to use the pool, and the tennis court is nice, and every once in a while I like to just sit in one of the dining rooms with a glass of wine, and…”

You sucked in your cheek as your mom rambled knowing that she couldn’t avoid the point forever. “Yeah exactly.” You said dryly.

Your mother gulped once more “To make a long story just a bit shorter… The Park family also goes there and I ran into Jisung’s mother, and she was just bragging about him nonstop and she hinted that he was better off without you and I just remembered how much you loved that boy! She was talking about some date he went on and how great this girl was. Greater than my daughter? I doubt it! She thought her son could do no wrong! That he was so perfect and you were so not… I just couldn’t help but tell her that whether she liked it or not you two would always be connected! I- I looked at her and I said ‘ya know you may want to let your son know that you already have a granddaughter and she’s not related to that rich heiress you want him with so bad!’ That’s what I said to her for looking down on us all these years… I told her about how my daughter and my daughter’s daughter were just about the most wonderful thing in this world and she had no right to talk about you or even her own son that way.”

“You really said all that stuff?”

“Yes…” Your mother replied hesitantly.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and a swell of emotion inside you. You put a hand over your mouth to stop the audible sobbing that threatened to leave your mouth. You could tell just how long your mother had been holding in those words. She was always so non confrontational but the fact that she said all that warmed your heart. You were angry at first but in this moment you realized that it didn’t matter what Mrs. Park or even your ex boyfriend thought of you. You had some choice words for Jisung’s parents as well but you knew it would create more trouble to let them out. All that mattered was that your mother loved you guys enough to be proud of you. You always felt a bit embarrassed when having to explain to others that you weren’t the babysitter you were just a teen mom, but your own mother didn’t even care. She loved you all the same and made sure that no one would let you feel ashamed of yourself. “I should’ve known you couldn’t keep a secret anyways.” You said choking up a bit. You gave your mother the biggest hug you had probably ever given in your entire life, and she hugged you right back!

“You aren’t angry?” She asked.

“Oh I’m furious” you said “but not at you. I have no idea what I did to make that woman hate me so much but I’m glad you stood up to her!”

Your mother sighed. “I know you wanted to do it on your own terms but I feel like she might’ve already told him… I just don’t know for sure.”

“It’s alright.” You said. You and your mother finished unloading the groceries, tearfully laughing at how strange the whole encounter must have been. The thought of your soft-spoken mother raising her voice at a stern and snarky lady filled you with joy. Just imagining the shocked look on Jisung’s mom’s face was enough to keep a slight smile on yours for the rest of the day.

Later that night, after putting D/N to bed, you sat on the couch with your parents commiserating about all the awful experiences you had with the Park family over the years. It had been pent up for so long that all of you took the opportunity to air out even the smallest of grievances.

“I don’t know how such a sweet kid could be related to such obnoxious people” your father said as a small ping emanated from your phone.

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as you saw the first text from Jisung in half a decade appear before you.

“Wanna grab that coffee around noon tmrw?” It said.

You considered being coy and waiting a few more minutes to reply but your fingers worked faster than your brain. Before you knew it a “sure!” was sent in response.

Then there was one more ping. One more text. It was small. It was innocuous. It could have meant nothing. But to you, it meant everything. It was one small red heart, one little emoticon that hinted to you that he still might feel the same…

𖦹

The next morning was an early one for you. You spent hours perfecting the exact right image that would make you look good enough to go on what was essentially a date, but not so good that Jisung would immediately clock that you two were on a date. Sure meeting up with an old fling to talk about a secret child over coffee wasn’t the most romantic premise, but you couldn’t help but want to put your best foot forward when it came to him. It was almost shameful to admit internally how much you felt for him, but it was the honest truth. You still loved him.

The ding of the coffee shop door seemed to ring out like a chorus of hollow bell chimes in your ears as your head began spinning. Jisung was sitting at table to the far end of the cafe. You could see the rays of somber light peeking in through the window, diffused by the dusty oranges, reds, and browns of the fall leaves. Jisung fidgeted in his chair looking down at the table, and then his watch, then his phone, and back to the table. Two brown paper cups stood tall on the table in front of him, steam rising from them and collecting on the lenses of his glasses. He cracked his knuckles and gnawed at his fingernails nervously until finally catching a glimpse of you walking towards him. “Y/N” he exclaimed, clumsily getting to his feet and lightly tripping over a leg of his chair.

You tried your best to hold back laughter as he bumbled around, rushing to pull out a chair for you. You smiled and thanked him as you sat down. The rich pungent smell of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet steamed milk filled your nostrils and Jisung gently pushed one cup over to you.

“I assumed you still drank the same coffee. If that’s okay.” He cleared his throat hesitantly.

You could just about burst into tears at this very moment. After all these years he still remembered your coffee order. He was only missing one thing...

“Wait just a second…” he fumbled through his pockets for a moment and pulled out two small packets of sweetener. “I know you like to stir in your own sugar” he said.

Now it was perfect!

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked.

Jisung’s consideration for others, you in particular was always so evident. It’s like he couldn’t stop himself from making the kind of small talk that involved checking in on people. “I did.” You replied.

The two of you spent some time just sitting and catching up. You talked about school, work, old friends, tv shows, and just about everything you two would have talked about and experienced together had you been in contact for the past five and a half years. You didn’t really realize when, but the both of you had slowly transitioned to taking your coffee shop 'date' outside of the coffee shop and made your way to the park across the street. The air was cool and refreshing and Jisung couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud but the way you were bundled up with your scarf, gloved hands clutching your coffee like it might run away from you if you let it go was adorable. He also took not of how your coats subtly matched. Yours a light brown, and his a deep tan color made you two look complimentary, almost like a couple… almost.

“Did your daughter make it in time to watch her show?” He asked out of the blue.

You chuckled “You remembered that? She did actually. She even talked about you a bit after… before she went to bed she asked if I was meeting up with you soon.”

“No way!” He said and bumped your shoulder lightly with his coffee cup.

“Really I mean it! She’s so interested in what I do. She always asks about my friends.”

“Are we still friends?”

Your eyes went wide, your hands tensed up and a chill ran down your spine. “I mean- We were good friends at one point!” You choked on your words not knowing what to say.

“We were more than just good friends Y/N” he said.

“I know…”

Jisung bit his lip and you both looked at each other sheepishly, you caught his gaze and he caught yours before you both broke out into a fit of laughter. You two as a pair had a way of bringing out a silliness within yourselves that had you cackling like hyenas together but looking like absolute madmen to any onlookers passing by.

Your walk in the park was peaceful and comforting. So comforting in fact that you had almost forgotten why you wanted to meet up with him in the first place.

𖦹

“So what was the good news?” He said, taking a sip of his drink.

“What?”

“The good news! Remember before we broke up you said there was good news and bad news… the bad news was the break up and the good news was…” he giggled awkwardly “well I never got to find out”.

Why now of all times did he have to bring that up? What could you even say? You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hunker down somewhere and hide. You had to talk to him. It was now or never.

“Yeah about that… the good news was mostly good news for me”. You were internally facepalming at your high school self’s method of delivery when it came to something so important. ‘Good news and bad news’, how idiotic could you have been.

“That’s okay, I still want to know-” Jisung gently placed your hand in his, picking it up to wrap your fingers within his warm grasp. He knew it might be wrong but he really didn’t want to ask about your relationship status right now. “I was obsessed with everything you did back then, that part of me still really wants to know… Like would it have changed anything? I know that sounds stupid but it’s true…”

You couldn’t help but melt a little being in his hold once again. It lulled you in a way that made you forget the gravity of what you were about to abruptly spit out. “The good news was D/N”! You felt a lump form in your throat and you were jolted back a bit as Jisung stood there frozen in the midst of the cobblestone path. You immediately went into panic mode. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time and my parents pretty much told me to do whatever I thought was best! I didn’t want to push something so big on you right before graduation” You rambled on and on watching as Jisung seemed to only take in bits and pieces of what you were saying. Still you weren’t sure if he was buying your excuses or if they were going in one ear and out the other. He continued to just stand there stiff as a board tightening his hand around yours as you tried to usher him to a bench to sit down. It took a few minutes, but eventually you two found a quieter more private area of the park to talk it out. Jisung mostly sat and listened to you explain your reasoning for keeping D/N a secret from him for so long but he also acknowledged how this wasn’t information he would have wanted to receive any other way than in person and face to face.

He had always wanted to hear something like this from you but he always imagined it was going to be far in the future after you guys got married. Jisung’s thumb lightly caressed your knuckles and you thought your fingers might go numb from the prolonged hand holding. He looked down at your hand and as quiet as a mouse he laughed.

He laughed… Right there on the bench as the cool breeze swept his hair out of his eyes, he laughed. He slowly met your worried gaze, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes just as they did in yours. “Of course you went on to have the perfect life and be the perfect mother all without me.”

His words caught you off guard “Perfect? I’m like a mess ninety percent of the time, I just keep it together in front of my daughter.” You sniffled a bit “I did- I mean I still do want you to be in her life, it would be good for her…”

“Just for her” he asked playfully, tears still welling in his eyes.

“...and for me…” you looked down at the ground.

“Would your boyfriend be okay with that?”

“Boyfriend?” You felt the embarrassment return to you. “I haven’t dated anyone since you and I-” you could barely finish your sentence before Jisung’s lips were crashing into yours. His hot breath made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. His eyelashes gingerly brushed against your cheeks as he caught his breath. Exhaling through his nose he went back for more. Maybe it was because it had been so long, maybe it was because he was older and more experienced, but Jisung had never kissed you like this before. There was quiet desperation in the way your lips melded together as if he was asking you, begging you to be his again.

“Me neither” he said breathlessly finally letting you come up for air.

“I thought you had a girlfriend?”

“No way, I haven’t gone on a real date since I started college…”

“But your mother said-“

“My mother has been trying to set me up with some girl whose parents own a couple buildings downtown for ages now.” Jisung cupped your cheek affectionately. “She seems nice and all but it’s hard to go out with anyone else when all I do is think about you!”

“I think about you too.” You treasured the way such simple touches and matter of fact words could flip your worlds upside down. “I wish I had told you sooner… I really wish I told you so much earlier…” You really couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now. You imagined just how crazy you looked crying on a public bench. “One second” you said reaching into your purse and pulling out a few tissues and some baby wipes. You lightly dabbed at the corners of Jisung’s eyes.

He reached over to you and used his thumbs to wipes your face simultaneously. “You’re such a mom.” He joked.

“I don’t understand how you aren’t mad at me right now?” you said.

Maybe he should have been, you wouldn’t have held it against him if he was. “Being with you is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. If that makes me crazy then so what. I’m crazy about you.”

It was hard to hide the shock on your face, you couldn’t believe he had just outright confessed his feelings to you before you even had time to process that wonderfully unexpected kiss.

“Anyways, it’s a relief that D/N is mine. If you had a kid with some other guy I don’t know what I’d do…” he planted another small kiss on your forehead.

“I think your parents would have been elated…” you trailed off.

“Who cares what my parents think! We’re not in highschool anymore!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“I always knew we were meant to be family, it doesn’t matter how long it took. Just never keep a secret like that from me again” he laughed.

“I promise it’s all honesty from now on” you replied as Jisung pulled you into a warm embrace. He brought your body closer to his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two took in the autumn scenery.

𖦹

It took a few weeks of coordinating but Jisung had finally come up to visit you in your home in the city. D/N was probably more excited than you. Your last couple days back at your parent's were spent watching Jisung play with your (now his) daughter in your parents living room. He seemed to have lived up to all her expectations and she had gotten over her qualms with his height one she realized how high up she could sit when on his shoulders.

You still hadn’t told her he was her father. You and Jisung agreed to wait to tell her until you two were more established. Sure you had dated before but this was now a whole new relationship. Your daughter practically leaped from her spot on the couch once she heard the doorbell ring and her dad’s signature tepid knock on the door.

You opened the door to see your boyfriend’s smiling face as he reached down to pick up D/N as she peppered him with questions. “Hey you!” He said nuzzling her nose and leaning over to give you a kiss as your daughter winced in disgust. He lugged in a large rolling suitcase with his one free hand as you ushered him through the front entrance.

“That’s all you brought?” You asked.

Jisung nodded “yeah for now… I was so eager to get over here that I only packed the essentials, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with all my stuff at once.”

“Please Jisung you’re getting ready to move in. You’re going to overwhelm me anyways” you teased.

“I’ll get the rest later! Right now I just want to hang out with you guys!” He put your daughter down and ruffled her hair. “So are you going to give me a tour?” He said leaning down to talk to her at eye level.

She just wordlessly dragged his wrist along to show him all her favorite spots in the house as you trailed along.

Much to the behest of his mother Jisung planned on having many more days like this and little did you know that the ring burning a hole in his coat pocket back in your hometown was the thing he was most excited to bring back in the next suitcase...

- 🍌🍶

[captainlunaxmen]

Dragon's Healer

Chapter 1

Daemyra x fem!reader (very brief mention of Harwin Strong x fem!reader)

Dark!Aemond x fem!reader (in future chapters)

I'm trying new things... I just hope you'll like it.

Let me know if you want to be tagging future chapter and let me know what you think❤️

Chapter summary: The reader is Rhaenyra's lady-in-waiting. They share more than a friendship. This, first chapter follows the events leading to the questioning of Luke's legitimacy.

Warning: death, hinting at infertility, very very vague hint to rape.

I walk as quickly as I can, trying to hide my excitement and eagerness from the eyes of the courts, towards Rhaenyra's chambers.

The maesters apparently needed more ointments right this morning, adding to Rhaenyra not wanting me to help her through labour, I suspect I'll be the last one to see the baby. Once I notice I'm alone, I literally rush to her door and knock softly on it.

"It's me." I softly say, "may I, princess?"

"Come in." Her muffled voice comes from beside the door.

I open the doors, quick to close them again when I see Harwin Strong holding the newborn. I fondly smile at him then my eyes fall to Rhaenyra's tired figure.

"How are you feeling, princess?" I ask, walking to stand next to Harwin looking at the baby.

"You already know the answer." She weakly chuckles.

"He's so pretty." I say and look at the guard nodding his head, "he got your nose."

"And the family's insolence, apparently." Rhaenyra adds and I chuckle, "I believe he might have your mouth."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, my dear." I sadly tell her, smiling nonetheless.

"You know you're his mother just as I am." She tells me firmly.

"She's not wrong." Harwin agrees and I playfully glare at him.

"It's a nice thought." I say, caressing the little boy's cheek with a finger.

"Well, Jace and Luke consider you like a second mother." She insists.

"It's not the same thing."

"You love them like they were your own. They can feel it." Harwin says softly, making me look up at him catching his loving gaze on me.

"Don't look at me like that." I jokingly scold him.

"You know, I think he took her insolence." He teases, talking to the Targaryen princess.

"She's part of the family, my statement remains truthful." She smiles brightly and I decide it's time to join her on the small couch.

"Are you okay?" I check on her.

"I am."

"Why are you all dressed?" I ask, just noticing her wearing one of her dresses.

"The queen wanted to see the baby." She sighs, I'm at loss for words, briefly looking at Harwin.

"Right after you gave birth?" I ask and she nods, "gods... couldn't she come herself?"

"And give her the satisfaction?"

I sighs deeply, shaking my head.

"Let's just hope he won't take after you in stubbornness." I softly smile at her, caressing her cheek with my hand, she moves hers to gently grab mine and hold it to her. "Do you need anything?"

"I promise you, I'm fine." She nods, letting my hand go.

"So... does he have a name already or?" I ask, standing up again to walk to the baby in Harwin's arms.

"Jeoffrey." Rhaenyra answers.

"Jeoffrey?"

"Laenor chose it." She tells me. That gives me everything I need to understand, I nod my head and go back at looking at Jeoffrey.

"So so pretty."

"You two would look amazing as parent." I hear Rhaenyra's soft voice commenting. I sadly smile at Harwin, he returns it.

"May I?" I ask him to hold the baby.

"Oh of course, my lady." He says, carefully passing the baby into my arms, "I have duties to attend to anyway."

"Go and protect us, Commander." I smile at him.

"Princess." He nods at Rhaenyra, "my lady." He nods at me, I see him linger for a moment before exiting the room.

I walk to Rhaenyra, rocking the baby in my arms to keep him asleep.

"He's really pretty, love." I say.

"After all the effort I put, I hope so." She smiles.

"Did Alicent say anything?" I ask.

"Nothing... as always she merely implies things." She winces slightly sitting up.

"Careful." I scold her, "get some rest."

"Yes, yes," she dismisses me, "I meant it, you know."

"What?" I absently ask, smiling at the baby as I put him in his crib.

"You and Harwin would make amazing parents."

"Rhae... you know I can't..." I sadly say, sitting with her.

"You never tried again..." she gently takes my hand.

"The maesters said it's impossible... and I don't see it happening with Harwin... not after all these allegations, at least." I squeeze her hand, "it's okay, you said Luke and Jace consider me like a mother... that's enough."

"But..." she sighs, determined, I admire how even in her tired condition she's still stubborn as always, "maybe your condition changed and..."

"Rhaenyra," I stop her, "I've never bled... I've never... before your parents took me in, there have been situations in which I could've... fallen pregnant, yet... I never did, in those cases thankfully, but still... I don't think it will ever happen" I sadly explain to her, "it's okay. And, I mean, marrying the commander would probably imply me moving away from here. Him becoming lord and me his lady wife... would you want me away?"

"I would never, you know that. I just see you with Jace and Luke... even with Alicent's children. And you deserve it." Her smiles warms my heart.

"I'm happy as I am. I promise you." I lean to kiss her softly.

She kisses me back, I can feel she's still tired from labour, so I let her lay a little more.

"If it ever becomes too much for you, I want you to tell me, please?" She tells me, firmly but keeping a hint of sweetness in her tone.

"Is that an order, princess?" I tease.

"It definitely is." She grins, "and just you wait until I'm fully recovered."

"Ooh is that a threat?" I grin too, standing up.

"It depends on how wet it gets you." She winks and I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Her grins only widens, "I got my answer."

"Oh, fine... let me get you to bed so you can rest and stop teasing me." I offer my arm to her, she gladly takes it and let me guide her to her bed.

"Just you wait." She teases.

"I'll wait." I smile, "do you need anything? Want me to call a maid?"

"I'm fine, my love." She reassures me, "I'll see you later."

"Alright. Rest, princess." I say before leaving her chambers.

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

I got announced by the guard, not that I care much to wait as I enter the room, glad to have found Alicent.

Before I could start speaking, I notice Aemond's hurt expression.

"What happened?" I ask, confused as I also notice the boy's state.

"He went into the caves to... claim a dragon." The queen sighs deeply.

"Again?" I ask, turning to Aemond, his hurt expression turns slightly into one of shame, almost, and I too sigh, "what did they do?"

"What do you think they did?" Alicent slightly snaps at me. "Those kids made fun of him again.."

"I'm not asking you." I state, firmly, "you weren't there, were you? Tough, I'm pretty sure your oldest son was." I glare at her accusations, "you were too busy summoning a woman who had just given birth to show you the baby."

"I didn't as-"

"We can talk about it later, your highness." I cut her off, "that is not the pressing matter right now, don't you think?"

"It is not." She reluctantly agrees, "that's why I need to speak with the king about it." She then adress her son, "remember what we said."

Aemond nods, not exactly convinced, but he does. Alicent gives me a look before exiting the room.

I let out a long sigh, then I cross my arms in front of me and look at Aemond, who keeps avoiding my eyes, looking down at the floor.

"So? Should I try to guess or you want to tell me?" I adress the matter again, the boy briefly looks at me before letting out a puff of breath.

"They made fun of me again." He simply says.

"Yes, your mother said so." I nod, "but what happened?"

"They dressed a pig like a dragon... they made wings and all." He explains, looking at the ground.

I face soften, now noticing a small bruise on his forehead.

"Come, let's put something on that bruise." I motion for him to go sit by the table.

I walk to him as I take out a small bottle from the bag I always carry around, and a small tissue.

"Why do you think I don't have a dragon?" He suddenly asks, before I could raise the tissue, I stop my movement and sigh, lowering my arm.

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not the right person to ask that."I say softly, raising again my hand and finally cure his small wound.

"You can't stop it anymore." I hear Haelena mutter, I pay her no mind for now, I instead focus on Aemond.

"I don't understand it." He says.

"Maybe you're destined to claim one of the famous unclaimed dragons. Or maybe you just need to wait a little longer than them." I sigh, softly, hoping to make him feel at ease, "regardless, do not listen to their mockery. You all are still kids, nothing you say or do is always what you truly mean. Don't take their action to heart, you are not what they claim."

"And what am I?" He asks, almost defeated. I out down the tissue, and I make sure he looks at me.

"You are a smart kid, I've never seen anyone learning old valyrian as fast as you. You understand things on a deeper level, you're not defined by a dragon. Remember that, okay?" I urge him, he nods and I sweetly smile at him, patting his shoulder and standing up, "and never say never, maybe you'll claim a dragon tomorrow," I walk to the door, " or the day after, or the day after that. Now c'mon, I believe you have training with Cole."

"Yes, I do." He nods and he walks towards me.

"I guess I'll try," I whisper, "Haelena, would you like to join me in the gardens?"

"I'd like to, but I'm needed here." She says, flatly.

I look at Aemond who shrugs and shakes his head.

"If you change you mind, send for me." I wait a moment for an answer that never comes, and with Aemond walk out towards the training ground.

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

As soon as I heard what happened with Cole, I went looking for Harwin, hoping to find him alone.

I'm lucky enough to find him alone, I saw his father walking away, understandably upset. I walk to him and, silently, I tell him to follow me.

Once we're in a more secluded area, I check one more time in case there are unwanted ears nearby. Then I turn to him.

"What were you thinking?!" I whisper yell at him.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I couldn't see anymore." He softly says, looking down.

"Clearly." I sternly reply.

"I just... he treats them with less respect then the queen's, he-"

"I know that. He's always done that, what the fuck happened for you to hit him?" I ask, frustrated, I'm scared something bad could happen to him.

"He wasn't giving them any useful instructions, cruelty instead of tactics, then the insinuating started..." he explains.

"Harwin..." I sigh, "people's been insinuating since Jace was born, why lose your temper for something Cole ever said? He's just a bitter man, finding comfort in humiliation and cruelty."

"He tried to subtly call you a whore." He finally raises his eyes to meet mine, "tried, because I didn't let him finish the sentence."

His proud smirk make me chuckle a little, but I recollect myself quickly.

"Everyone has called me that at some point, Harwin, it's not the worts I've heard." I take him hands in mine, "they've called me worse than that." When I catch his questioning look I go on, "I've been called an opportunist, I've been called a snake, a non-woman, broken or contagious... whore is just... nothing."

"I couldn't stand him saying it." He grits his teeth in frustration, "and you're not broken, you-"

"Harwin, while I appreciate it when you compliment me and are so sweet to me, this is serious. You could be sent away." I remind him.

"My father was kind enough to explain it again." He rolls his eyes.

"Well he's right, your outburst will be used as fuel to all the rumours." I scold him, "it's treason, Harwin."

"He said that too." He look away again, annoyed, annoyed because he's know we're right.

I sigh, closing the distance between us, to make him look at me.

"I don't want to lose you, Harwin." I say, "I can't."

I see his eyes softening, he leans his forehead on mine.

"You won't." He pulls back a little to look at me, "you know, I've always dreamed of running away with you."

"You've said that, maybe once... or twice." I cheekly smile at him, trying to hide my own fear.

"Taking two horses and run ride away, just us." He softly whispers, "but I never asked."

"You know I-"

"You couldn't leave her." He finishes for me, "I know, and I couldn't ask you to leave her behind. I wouldn't ask you to."

He lifts my chin just enough to leave a small kiss on my lips.

"Don't ask me to say goodbye to you either." I warn him, "I won't."

"I know." He kisses me again.

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

I didn't say goodbye.

I didn't. I simply watched Harwin leave with his father. I cought for a moment his eyes on me as he left, and I wanted to go to him, but I couldn't.

The days after that have been... caotic to say the least. After Harwin departure Rhaenyra decided to move the whole family to Dragonstone and Rhaenyra and I tried to comfort each other. The news of Harwin's death, still fresh, broke something in me.

"I'm really sorry, my love." She told me one night as we sat in front of the fire.

"It's not your fault in any way, Rhae. Do not blame yourself." I tell her.

"If I let you marry Harwin, maybe you-"

"You didn't force me to stay by your side, Rhae, I wanted to. Harwin understood that, if anything, he deserved better than me." I sighed, "he deserved better."

"You chose to stay with me, like he chose you. He wanted to be with you, and see you happy, that's what he cared about." She told me, sternly, to avoid me entering a bad place in my mind.

We didn't say more, we just held each other in front of the fire.

But the days after that were even crazier, Laena's death was like a thunder while the sky is clear, unexpected and shocking, and so was Laenor's "death", at least to Rhaenys and Corlys. A cruel, but necessary mean to an end.

But I still remember the incident so well...

I remember hearing noises outside my chambers, I arrived to a room where Jace and Luke's bloodied faces greeted me.

"What happened?!" I exclaimed kneeling in front of them and checking their wounds.

"Ask them." Alicent furious tone told me.

I looked up at her, just then noticing Aemond sitting with a Measter close to check him. I walk to see why he deserved more care than the others and saw his wound.

"Gods..." I exhaled, "how..?"

"I told you to ask them." Alicent repeated.

I watched Alicent closely, then I looked at Jace and Luke, Rhaena and Baela scared close to them.

I looked back at Aemond and the Maester's work.

"Leave it, you're butchering his eye." I tried to shove him to take his place.

"He was-" Alicent started.

"Butchers do cleaner jobs, I assure you, my queen." I said, taking the needle and started to stitch the wound myself, along with my oils, "just hang on a little longer, my prince."

"How could you allow such a thing to happen?" King Viserys demanded "I will have answers."

"The princes were supposed to be abed, my King." Harrold answered.

Alicent came right next to me to check in on his son, I let her because I understood her anxiety.

"Who had the watch?" Viserys kept his interrogation going.

"Young Prince was attacked by his own cousins, your grace." Criston chimed in and I forced myself to contain a scoff.

"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!" The King exclaimed, furious.

"The kings guard has never had to defend princes from princes, your grace." Criston tried to defend himself.

"That is no answer." Viserys shouted at him.

"It will heal, will it not?" Alicent asked, "will it not, lady Y/n?"

I could feel all eyes on me.

"I..." I sighed, keeping my hand as steady as possible, "the flesh will heal. Yes. But, I'm afraid, the eye is lost."

"Where were you?" Alicent stood up abruptly to ask Aegon.

"Alicent.." I tried to calm her, since I finished with Aemond's wound.

"Me?" Aegon couldn't even ask before Alicent slapped him, "what was that for?"

"Thay was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool"

"I'll get you some oils to keep on in to make it heal faster," I told Aemond, "and you just lost an eye, your life is not over. Remember that."

In that exact moment, Corlys and Rhaenys arrived demanding explanation.

I stood to better check on Luke and Jace, when Rhaenyra came in too, followed by Daemon. When I met his eyes, his usual smirk made its way to his face, and he winked at me.

"Are they okay?" Rhae's voice was what got me our of staring at Daemon.

"Uh, yes, yes, just a few scratches, princess." I assured her.

"Who did this?" She asked.

"They attacked me!" Aemond immediately answered, starting a chorus of children shouting to be heard.

I deeply sighed, and looked again at Daemon, the smug expression ever present, I looked at Rhaenyra as they all fight back and forth, alost tuning out their voices. I suspected they did... something. Rhaenyra always felt a pull towards her uncle, not that I couldn't blame her, but I was worried said something could've had consequences.

When my eyes landed on Alicent's hand holding Visrys' dagger walking directly to Rhaenyra, I snapped out my dazed state wanting to put myself in between them, but Rhaenys' hand held my elbow.

"Do not mourn me, Mother." Aemond started to speak earning the attention of all presents, "it was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon." He finished, proud of himself.

"This proceeding is at an end." The King commanded.

Just then, Rhaenys let me go, letting me walk by her side to check on the cut the dagger left.

Daemon joining our side of the room as well.

Something that night shifted, not in the best way.

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

The sun coming from the big windows puts a smile on my face as I watch Daemon walking back to the castle, the hard look on his face creates a confused frown on my face.

"Something happened?" I ask once he's close enough, "the eggs?"

"Three healthy eggs," he assures me, caressing my cheek briefly.

"Then what's troubling you?" I ask.

"A raven." He answers, handing me said raven, "Vaemond wants to question Luke's claim to Driftmark."

I groan in frustration.

"I always hated that man." I say, following him inside.

"Makes me want to test the sharpness of my sword on him." He grins, clearly annoyed by the news.

"That's a wonderful idea." I agree.

"Don't agree with me on this, it turns me on." He playfully warns me, to which I respond with a little shove.

"It seems we have a message to report, my prince." I remind him.

"We sure do, my lady." The seriousness is back on his face and together we join Rhaenyra in the map room with Jace.

"Leave us." Rhaenyra commands as soon as she sees us.

Jace takes Jeoffrey and with the maesters and the handmaid, exits the room.

Daemon and I walk closer to the Princess, she looks at us with a mix of intrigued and perplexed expression.

I give her the message and she reads it. Me and Daemon waiting patiently.

"He means to call into question Luke's legitimacy," she realises, in disbelief, "and by extension Jace, and by extension my own clain to the throne."

I gently grab her hand to reassure her.

"Vaemond cares only about Driftmark and the Velaryon line." Daemon explains, "not about out politics. Has he made common cause with Otto Hightower yet?"

"Mh, this is what I fear." Rhaenyra humms, re-reading the letter, "Rhaenys has flown to court." She looks at me, her own gear moving in her head.

"She can't be planning to uphold his intentions." I assure her.

"No, exactly," Daemon agrees with me, "whatever disagreements we may have had, she's not cruel... or stupid enough to do that."

"Disagreements?" Rhaenyra questions, "she believes we had her son killed so that we might marry." She specifies.

"Yes... and yet, she's taken Baela to ward." Daemon tries to reassure her.

"Yes. It is Laena's memory she honors. She has no love for us."

"Has the vipers' venom spread so far?" He smirks, almost challenging.

"Those vipers rule in my father's name, and my father..." she sighs, defeated, "what choice do I have?"

"We defend." I tell her.

Daemon gently strokes Rhaenyra's belly with one hand, and with the other brush a finger on my cheek affectionately.

"To King's Landing, then."

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

Letting Rhaenyra and Daemon arrive a day before me was my intention, they're married, I'm just her lady-in-waiting to the court's eyes, so I insisted on them arriving on their own.

When I do arrive I sense immediately the tension in the air, symbols on the Sevens are hanged around the castle, instead of the Targaryen's crest. I try to ignore this feeling of uneasiness as I walk the vaguely familiar corridors.

"Y/n." I hear a familiar voice calling from behind me.

"My queen." I say as soon as I turn around, bowing to her. She gets closer, followed by Criston Cole as always.

"It's good to see you again." She kindly greets me, gently taking my hands.

"I share the sentiment my queen, these years have been kind to you," I smile at her, "beautiful as always."

Seeing her here, in front of me again after that night, all memories of us three together years and years ago making their way to the surface.

"You're still too kind," she smile, almost forced because she's not used to it anymore, "you're even more beautiful than I remember, my lady."

"Thank you, your highness," I thank her, quickly glancing at Cole beside her, "I was heading to the King's chamber, I wish to say hello."

"I'm afraid he's resting," she quickly tells me, "princess Rhaenyra's arrival was a lot for him."

"Is his condition that severe?" I ask, worried.

"I'm afraid so." She apologetically replies, "maybe after the council today."

"Will he be present?" I ask, hopeful.

"The masesters are opposed to the idea," she explains.

"Let me see him, maybe I can help." I insist.

"He does need his rest, my lady," she sternly says.

I swallow my tongue and cease my questions.

"Very well, my queen." I bow once again, "I'll go visit the library then, the gods know I missed King's Landing's library."

Alicent merely nods and lets me go without any more words.

I can't help all the suspects forming in my mind, I try to shake then out of my head, maybe I'm just exaggerating. I focus on remembering the route to the library instead, and thankfully I find it pretty easily. Juste as easily I get lost in the books.

I find a book I used to read all the time, a book about herbs and art in ancient times.

I get so lost in the book, I get startled when I suddenly hear footsteps behind me, turning around immediately.

"Apologies, my lady, I didn't mean to stratle you." The man in front of me says.

"Nothing to apologise for, I was merely lost in the book, I..." I trail off as I look at him better, noticing an eyepatch, "Aemond?"

[lovelyjj]

Bodygaurd!jj with kook!reader. Hear me out at first when he gets the job he thinks she’s a spoiled brat but she’s the complete opposite. So when he first meets her he’s being really mean and she doesn’t know why. It’s a lot I know 😭😭😭

omg bodyguard!jj are you kidding?!!?! so hot! please send more bodyguard!jj ideas or concepts!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Your parents hired a bodyguard because they felt like you needed one. You were a kook princess, rich and wealthy with a heart of gold. Who knows who would try and take advantage of you or harm you in anyway.

You accepted it, realizing that your parents were only trying to protect you. You weren’t thrilled but you came to terms with it. Having a bodyguard felt like you were an actual princess.

When you first met your bodyguard you were taken back. He wasn’t very nice to you and you had no idea why.

“Hi I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” you greeted him.

“I’m JJ, but you can call me Mr. Maybank,” He grumbled.

“Oh. Okay,” you smiled trying to remain friendly.

“Well I was planning on going shopping today,” you continued.

“Of course you were,” JJ rolled his eyes.

You frowned, not sure what you did wrong to make him be so rude.

The mall was fairly crowded. You dragged JJ from store to store and he grumpily followed you around. You tried on a handful of clothes and asked JJ’s opinion which he grumbled out a “It looks terrible.”

When you were at the food court JJ let his opinions break free.

“Do you really need more clothes?” JJ scoffed.

“Probably not but isn’t it fun to shop?” you asked.

“No.” JJ deadpanned.

“Why are you such a grump?” you asked.

“Because you’re an entitled self-centered bitch.” JJ insulted.

“Oh,” you sniffled, “Um ok don’t know why you felt the need to say that but thanks for the honesty I guess.”

JJ crossed his arms and didn’t reply.

You didn’t want JJ to see you upset so you put on your brave face. You didn’t know why JJ was being so mean but it hurt your feelings. How were you supposed to get along with him with his attitude. He was your bodyguard for christ sakes, he was going to be with you all the time.

JJ truly believed what he said. He thought you were a spoiled brat. And that couldn’t be further from the truth but he didn’t care to find that out. JJ was stubborn and he was set in his ways, but he couldn’t deny you were pretty.

When you were done shopping you got a text from your mom asking if you could get groceries. You said yes of course because that’s the kind of person you are. Reliable, trustworthy, selfless.

You arrived at the store with JJ by your side.

You felt a little defeated because of JJ’s attitude towards you. But you did your best to remain positive. You went down the aisles shopping for all the items on the list your mom texted you.

JJ followed you around the store making sure you were safe because that’s his job. JJ huffed and puffed as he helped you shop still set in his ways that you’re a spoiled brat.

When you got all the things on the list JJ helped load the groceries into the car. You were walking in the street to the passenger door when a car came out of no where. JJ pushed you out of the way and held you on the sidewalk.

“Jesus christ are you trying to get yourself killed?” He yelled.

“No,” you mumbled.

“Watch out where you’re going, ok?” JJ scolded.

“Thanks for saving me Mr. Maybank” you said.

“It was nothing,” JJ shrugged.

Your bodyguard was mean to you and you didn’t have a clue why. You were hoping that one day you would get along. You had hope. Maybe just maybe your bodyguard might surprise you.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

The sanses end up really sick. Really really sick. I'm talking hard to breathe, watery eyes, really hot even if they're standing in front of an AC, really tired, and randomly just getting really dizzy and lightheaded and passing out. They do recover after 2 weeks and get better and back to full health, only for the papyruses to experience the same thing a few days later, also recovering. How are the skellies doing in this suffering?

Undertale Sans - He's dying in his bed pretty much, refusing to move, to eat, or anything. The thing with Sans is that any of his illnesses must be closely monitored, as he has a weak soul and so it can turn really bad really fast. He's pretty much stressed the entire time, and he's not surprised when Papyrus falls sick soon after, as poor guy watched over him non stop and there was no way he wouldn't catch that bad virus either. Sans is more serene once he starts feeling better and he's glad he can be there for his brother.

Undertale Papyrus - He was so stressed about Sans that a part of his mind didn't believe Alphys when she said he was probably contagious. And... Well... Yeah, he's kinda regretting it now. But that's fine. Sans is not in danger anymore and he's way more resistant than his brother, so he'll be fine. He doesn't have any choice but to catch up on his sleep schedule anyway.

Underswap Sans - Uuuuuuuurgh. Blue wants to diiiiie. He hates getting sick, it's boring as hell, and he can't do anything. He's still stubborn, though and when his brother is not looking, he's sneaking out of the room to do things he's not allowed to do just out of spite. And, well, when his brother became sick right after him, he felt a little guilty as it's probably his fault.

Underswap Papyrus - He did all he could to not catch Blue's virus, but it wasn't enough apparently (how could it happen? O:). Honey is curled up in his bed, crying in pain as he has very low resistance to it, and he feels horrible. Eventually, Alphys comes to give him some pills to sleep. Because his soul is so sensitive, every emotion comes back to his face at 1000% intensity, and he can't deal with it in this state. He's glad when it's over. Never again.

Underfell Sans - It's nothing, and he will hide it for as long as he can. In Underfell, if you saw people you're sick, you're DEAD. Red is in survival mode right now, trying to avoid people and hide to everyone he's not fine. It ends with him at the hospital because he randomly fell down the stairs and collapsed at Edge's feet. Instead of 2 weeks, he goes through 6 weeks of immobility with a broken ankle...

Underfell Papyrus - You would think after what happened to Red, Edge would be careful at the first signs of sickness, and be careful... And no. No, he didn't learn anything from it, and immediately does the same thing as his brother and tries to hide it. He's a little better at this than Red though, but he has bigger Health Points. Until his health points fall to 1 and Alphys has to save his life because he's a freakin idiot. Both brothers end up in the same room at the hospital. Alphys can't believe how stupid they both are.

Horrortale Sans - Welp, that's not good. First of all, because Willow, Toriel and Grillby are pretty much babysitting him 24/7 because he's so tired they're scared he might be dying yet once again, but also because his head is killing him. He can't even lift his head up because of how tired he is. His memory is completely blurry, and he even scared Toriel because he forgot who she was for a moment. He's pretty much whimpering pitifully the entire time, but thank god, it's over quickly. When it happens to his brother though, he's so stressed and guilty that he starts to pull on his socket again, eventually injuring himself.

Horrortale Papyrus - He knew it would happen. He's glad his brother is alright, though. Willow is in constant pain so he can tank the illness pretty well. He doesn't complain much, because he can tell his brother is freaking out about this, and he just doesn't want to bother his friends more or contaminate them. Well, unfortunately, Toriel's mothering instincts are stronger than his stubbornness, and eventually he gets the baby treatment as well, which annoys him a lot, but he's too tired to complain.

Swapfell Sans - Nox doesn't show a lot of signs. He calls sick at work, but at home he looks more or less fine. He's quieter than usual and looks exhausted, but he still does his chores and takes care of the food. He's sleeping only when Rus is home, as like most Fell monsters, he doesn't trust being on his own in his state. He's glad when it's over; it's always stressful.

Swapfell Papyrus - The entire world knows Rus is sick. Rus is whimpering like a baby and crying the entire time, forcing Nox to take two more weeks off to take care of him. Rus is scared of being sick, and he's a freaking drama queen, which is the worst combo. He also hates soup and doesn't understand why his brother won't buy his agonizing brother some nuggets. Nox is a horrible big brother. He doesn't listen to anything he says and he's forcing his pills down his throat because, of course, Rus won't take them. Rus will act like his brother is mistreating him for two months lol. Nox doesn't care.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Who's sick? Certainly not him. Wine keeps working as usual, and no begging from his brother to rest will change his mind. Yes, he needs to take more breaks than usual, but that won't stop him. Wine isn't sick, and he will fight anyone saying otherwise. He shows almost no signs of being sick, as usual, and he recovers quickly. However, when his brother becomes sick that a whole another story as he suddenly feels guilty and freaks out because he's not ok.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He's not that sick honestly, but Wine won't stop acting like he's on the verge of dying and that's stressing Coffee so much he actually starts to believe it. Coffee is not allowed to leave his bed, and Wine even brought his bed in his room so he can watch over him all the time. It's actually not helping, as Coffee feels constantly watched, and so he doesn't sleep very well. As soon as he starts to feel better, he throws his brother out and actually catches up on his sleep schedule. Never again.

[m00ntunaart]

A “thesis essay” on my thoughts on young Bobadin vs. canon (older) Bobadin

Been thinking about my current favorite ship, Bobadin. Specifically younger Bobadin. Most Boba and Din shipping I see is from The Mandalorian and The Book Of Boba Fett era. Which makes sense, it’s when they meet. Which is Boba at like roughly 41 and Din roughly 39 (in that range at least).

And I like this version of Bobadin the best honestly. Older/middle aged Bobadin makes the most sense. Both of them clearly are stubborn, have tempers and middle aged man grumpiness lol. And I love them both for it. But they both also are mellow in a lot of ways. I think this is most clear in Boba, who as a younger person is VERY angry and hotheaded. He has a lot of reasons to hate the world. He holds grudges (fairly tbh) against the Jedi and Republic. But TBOBF/The Mandalorian Boba we see seems to have cooled his temper somewhat. He seems more comfortable with himself and seems to control/direct his anger in more specific ways. A lot of that ‘ready to pop at anytime’ anger seems to have faded.

In the other side, we don’t ever see a younger/teen Din (I know we see him being saved by the Children of The Watch as a kid, but we don’t ever see what his personality is like). So we can’t canonically know what Din was like as a younger person, but I like to headcanon that he too was a bit more hotheaded. We see Din in canon can be very sweet and willing to help others (his a million side quests and willingness to bargain for stuff instead of outright fighting people). He generally is calm and doesn’t emote a ton. But he still can be grumpy and have moments of temper (shooting at droids he doesn’t like, trying to use the flame thrower on the Jawas). So I headcanon, much like Boba, he used to have a much quicker temper (especially for droids) and probably was even more grumpy (angsty teen Din feels very on brand for him lol).

I explain all this because canon timeline Bobadin has them meeting at a time in their lives where they are older, and have had time to mellow out. They both know who they are (okay Din might be having a crisis over his faith and religion but it’s fine, he gets better), and they both are less quick to start unnecessary violence. I think this is why Boba and Din seem to get along so quickly after their, admittedly, rough first meeting. Boba has Fennec threaten Din’s kid at gun point because he thinks Din has stolen his armor. Din doesn’t help himself either by saying the armor belongs to the Mandalorians (I can easily see how Boba could have taken this as Din rubbing it in his face that Boba isn’t a Mandalorian and doesn’t deserve his armor. And we know this might be an opinion Boba has run into before because Bo-Katan basically say as much when she sees him later in the show.) But despite this, very rough start, Din gives Boba his armor once Boba proves it’s his, despite Boba threatening his kid. And Boba doesn’t take immediate insult to Din’s initial reaction AND goes way above and beyond to help Din get his son back. Both of them could have held grudges or reacted heatedly to the others actions. I could see how from both their perspectives how an aggressive reaction would be reasonable. But they don’t. They both act rationally, and don’t go out of their way to escalate the situation with the other needlessly (okay I know Boba literally started by holding Grogu at gun point but from Boba, that’s pretty tame I think 😂😅)

All this to say, I think the place and time in their lives has shaped them enough that in this meeting, they both end up getting along anyways despite everything. I mean Boba kinda just hops on Din’s Grogu rescue crusade immediately and Din’s willingness to go to lengths to help Boba in TBOBF later show how absent of a grudge they hold. You can probably chalk Din’s willingness to die for Boba’s cause up to him wanting to honor how Boba helped save his son. After all, we know how Mandalorians, especially Din’s type of Mandalorian, appreciate those who save and protect children. But I also just think Din at that point probably respects and likes Boba to some extent. And again, I think the ease of their relationship partially just comes from their age and experiences. They are seasoned enough in life to not jump any guns, and instead take the chance to back the other up. And it pays off, they are allies and get along in canon (and not in canon, m00ntunaart thinks they like-like each other lol).

Which brings me to my a main thought of this post: I don’t think if Boba and Din had met at a younger age (anytime pre Boba falling into the Sarlacc) that they would have as easily fell into a comfortable relationship (allies, friendship, romantic or otherwise). In fact, my biggest thought was ‘I don’t think a younger Boba would even like Din’. (Not at first at least).

Which might sound weird considering I do ship Bobadin and I actually have drawn more ‘younger Bobadin’ than ‘canon age Bobadin’. But the more I think of it, the more sure I am that these boys would have been at each other’s throats at any earlier time than when they canonically met. Which makes younger Bobadin even more interesting to me.

Like previously said, we know younger Boba was a lot angrier of a person. And we can’t know for sure, but I assume (headcanon) Din probably was a lot angrier too (if not just probably more grumpy/quick to temper). So if they had met in a similar way as younger men, they definitely would have not had the same wherewithal to not come to blows. I don’t think either Boba or Din would have held back from immediately getting angry and just resorting to fighting the other. Which makes sense to be honest. This isn’t what makes younger Bobadin fascinating to me though. What makes it fascinating, is that based on what we know of young Boba I think he would have hated Din on sight.

The biggest reason I think this is 1. Boba has clear issues with everything related to his dad. And I’ve seen tons of interpretations on how Boba might view his dad later in life. I lean towards some middle ground of ‘Boba loves his dad and grieves/misses him, but definitely holds some resentment for how his Dad died and left him with basically no support system’. With the added mental fuckedness of Boba probably thinking in the back of his mind “what made me the clone chosen to be Jango Fett’s son? Could he have easily chosen a different clone?” Also just in general probably the mind fuck of being a clone of your dad and a million other clones of your dad existing lol. But long story short, Boba has Daddy Issues, and I could see how this would probably translate to him have issues with everything related to his dad. Including Mandalorians in general. Now forgive me for this if I’m wrong, I couldn’t remember and couldn’t find a clear answer in my research, but I don’t believe Boba is a Mandalorian. By technicality, he could count since a child of a Mandalorian is Mandalorian by nature. But I don’t think Boba ever really claimed the title of Mandalorian or seems to want to be one. And a headcanon on this I’ve seen, that I really enjoy, is that this is because he has issues with his Dad and his Dad’s history. He didn’t get to be raised a Mandalorian because his Dad died. He didn’t get that culture, and seemingly (again based on Bo-Katan’s reaction) some Mandalorians seem to view him as not Mandalorian by virtue of being a clone. This is definitely breeding grounds for a young Boba Fett to have a lot of resentment towards the Mandalorians and their culture. After all, it’s easier to hate a something than to feel the pain of never getting to be a part of it.

ALL OF THAT TO SAY, young Boba would take one look at young Din, and probably hate him. Just by virtue of being a Mandalorian. OH- and once he finds out Din is part of a covert that used to be part of the Death Watch? That’s not gonna earn Din any points. (Even if Boba denies his Mandalorian heritage, I imagine he still hold his familial Haat’ade grudge against Death Watch. They killed his Dad’s dad tbf.)

This is an interesting idea to me, because in opposition to this, I think on sight Din would think favorably of Boba. Based on Din’s reaction to the Night Owls in The Mandalorian, the covert never told him about other Mandalorians. He would see Boba (who we know at a young age didn’t remove his helmet much in front of others) and just assume he’s one of his type of Mandalorian (who in Din’s mind are the only type of Mandalorian). I think Din probably has this view that all Mandalorians are trustworthy and honorable because he comes from a small community of Mandalorians who all live by the same morals and creed. His only experience with other Mandos are with his own people. He wouldn’t think to not like or not trust Boba. He just sees him, thinks he’s Mandalorian, thus he must be a good person. Because ‘all Mandalorians are honorable, right?’ (Oh poor Din, how naive. Dude lived under a rock (sewer I guess) his whole life and doesn’t know there are a lot of shitty Mandalorians throughout history).

So you have a young Boba who sees Din and is like ‘Ugh a fucking Mandalorian 😒😡’, verses a young Din who sees Boba and is like ‘oh a Mandalorian! 😃’. This set up is so fun to me. I wish I saw more young Bobadin because of this. Their world views and personalities are so different at this point in time. It’s such a fun idea and contrast to older, much chiller, Bobadin. Young Bobadin is complicated and probably violent lol. They’re angry young men who don’t have the temperament to talk to each other long enough to realize the other is an okay person. There’s some fun ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ dynamics you can work from this.

But, I’m not quite done with this point. So aside from their differing opinions, temperaments, cultures and views on the world, I also think there’s another reason young Boba probably wouldn’t be impressed with a young Din:

BOBA FETT IS LIKE A LEGENED? Guys, Boba is just a badass. Like come on. Dude, from childhood, half raised himself and half was raised by criminals and bounty hunters. He was in jail with adults AS A CHILD. He was one of the most infamous bounty hunters. So good at his job DARTH VADER hired him. He’s the son of Jango Fett, the like semi-disgraced Mand’alor’s heir. HIS LORE IS INSANE. Dude has had one of the most messed up childhood and life, and came out semi-on top. Boba is an icon for being beat up by the universe, and surviving just to spite everyone.

I say all this because in comparison, DIN IS KINDA GOOFY? Dude lives in a religious cult (I’m kinda joking, the covert is kinda cult-y lol) IN THE SEWERS. HE LIKE A SEWER RAT OF A MANDALORIAN. HIS ORIGINAL ARMOR LITERALLY WAS JUST HALF JUNK HALF ACTUAL ARMOR. HE’S LITERALLY A JUNK RAT OF A MAN. Dude knows only a quarter of any world politics at anytime, and knows NOTHING about Mandalorian history. LESS THAN BOBA WHO DOESN'T EVEN CLAIM TO BE MANDALORIAN. HE WINS MOST HIS FIGHTS BUT NOT BEFORE USUALLY GETTING HIS ASS BEAT AND ALMOST DYING, THEN SOMEHOW WINNING AT THE LAST MINUTE BY DOING SOMETHING INSANE. HE SEEMS TO SURVIVE BY THE SEAT OF HIS PANTS, HALF BY SKILL HALF BY BEING THE UNIVERSE’S UNINTENTIONAL MAIN CHARACTER. (I say all this lovingly, I love Din. I just also love making fun of him)

Basically, I think legend and bad ass of Star Wars, Boba Fett, would take one look at rat-boy Din Djarin and would not be impressed. But that’s more in a funny/ironic way. I’ve already given my serious, thoughtful reasons for why young Bobadin would not get along at first, but yeah it doesn’t help that Boba is like a semi-celebrity in the Bounty Hunting world and Din in comparison is like a podunk hillbilly who can’t seem to die lol.

But hey, just like canon (older) Bobadin, I think they would eventually come to like each other. It just takes longer and they probably try to kill each other a few times. Which is basically a Mandalorian’s way of flirting so it still works.