#but the taste. you never forget that taste

[berryzxx]

To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate

Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :) Also ty so so so much to @sarawritestories, literally an angel and helped me with this idea GO READ HER FICS BITCHES. @thelov3lybookworm, @fell-in-luvs @sweetorangeblossom @throneofsmut

@riddlesb1tch @milswrites TYSM for the help ily all. I'm never writing angst again <3

The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.

Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.

Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.

His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.

Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.

***

"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.

"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.

Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"

She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"

Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.

"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.

***

Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.

"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"

Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.

***

All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?

Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.

The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.

He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.

A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.

She was a goddess.

She was the fulfilment of his dreams.

She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.

She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.

He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.

He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.

He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.

Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.

Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.

Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.

Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.

Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.

"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?

"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.

"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.

Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.

He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.

"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.

Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.

His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.

He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.

He watched as her lifeless body lay there.

Still.

The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.

Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.

He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.

Mate.

She was his mate.

He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.

Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.

Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her.

His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.

The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.

His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.

A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.

His mate.

Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.

He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.

Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.

Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.

His mate.

His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?

The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.

The fates had known.

This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.

If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.

Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand, but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.

He was damned. His fate was unlucky.

He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.

Without even realising his shadows had left him too.

"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.

Lyra

If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.

A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.

***

If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart

If only he had known.

Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.

Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.

Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.

Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.

Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.

Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.

....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that

->Masterlist <-

tagging: @hijabi-desi-bookworm @lilah-asteria @fxckmiup @minnieoo

@kennedy-brooke @daycourtofficial

#berrywrites #azriel angst #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #acotar series #azriel fanart #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadow singer x y/n #azriel spymaster #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader

[shuagirl]

TAKE IT SLOW, BABY. | L.SM

pairings. virgin!lee seokmin x soft dom fem!reader genres. smut [s] fluff [f] angst [a]

summary. it's your boyfriend's birthday and you wanted to give him a special treatment.

warnings. established relationship, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, oral sex, blowjob, very slight angst (i think?), slow pace

( marvy ) this random idea just popped up in my head after scrolling through some dk pics on pintrest (IM NOT A CREEP!!!) yeah anyways, i can't lie ran out of full plot ideas and this was so rushed but enjoy i guesssss <3

You've spent all day prepping, making sure everything's perfect. It's Seokmin's birthday, and you want to give him a night he'll never forget. The room is dim, lit only by the soft flicker of candles you've placed everywhere. Their warm glow dances on the walls, creating an intimate, romantic and magical atmosphere. The air is thick with the heady scent of vanilla and jasmine from the candles, blending with the faint smell of roses from the petals scattered across the bed.

When Seokmin walks in, he stops dead in his tracks. His eyes widen, taking in the scene. You can see the surprise and the flicker of something deeper in his eyes—desire, maybe even a bit of awe. You stand there, heart pounding, wearing that white dress that flows around you like a soft, delicate cloud.

"Happy birthday, baby," you whisper, stepping toward him. Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you rest them on his shoulders. You rise on your tiptoes and plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

Seokmin's heart is racing—you can feel it under your palms. He's nervous and excited. "Y/N, this is... amazing," he stammers. His fingers, trembling just a little, cup your face. He leans in, and his lips find yours again, this time with more urgency. The kiss deepens and grows more passionate. You feel his hands sliding into your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond eagerly, pressing your body against his.

The world outside fades away. It's just the two of you now, wrapped in this moment. Your fingers trace patterns on his back, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of his body against yours, the taste of his lips, and the intoxicating scent of his skin combine into a heady rush that makes your pulse quicken.

You pull away just enough to tug at his shirt, lifting it over his head. He helps by raising his arms, and then your hands are on his bare chest, exploring his muscles' smooth, firm planes. You kiss his neck, feel the shiver running through him, and smile against his skin.

His breath hitches when your lips move lower, trailing kisses down his collarbone. He wants you—God, you can feel how much he wants you. But you recognise hesitation, too, a tension in his muscles. Whenever things get heated, he always finds a way to stop, to pull back. You know it's not because he doesn't want you. It's something else, something he's never reasonably said.

Tonight, though, you're determined. You guide him towards the bed, gently pushing him down. You climb onto his lap, feeling the hardness of his desire pressing against you. He freezes, his eyes wide, a mixture of lust and fear in them.

"Seokmin, what's wrong?" you ask softly, searching his face.

He hesitates, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I... I have to tell you something," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a virgin."

You pause, taken aback for a moment. But then you see the vulnerability in his eyes, and your heart melts. You cup his face in your hands, looking into his eyes with all your love for him. "Oh, baby, you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured," you say, your voice filled with concern and affection.

He shakes his head, a small, shy smile on his lips. "No, it's not that. I just... I didn't want to disappoint you," he admits, his voice cracking with vulnerability.

You lean in and kiss him, slow and lingering. "You could never disappoint me, Seokmin. We can go as slow as you want," you murmur against his lips.

He looks at you, and something in his eyes changes. There's a newfound courage there, a determination. "But tonight, I want you. I need you," he whispers back, his voice filled with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

You smile, relieved and excited. "Me too," you breathe, diving back into the kiss, your hands roaming over his body with deliberate slowness that drives you both wild.

The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more fervent. You guide him to lie back on the bed, your lips never leaving his as you start to undress him. The feel of his skin under your fingers sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help the low moan that escapes your lips when you kiss down his neck, your tongue tracing a hot, wet path to his collarbone.

When he's finally naked beneath you, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him—flushed and trembling with anticipation. You kiss your way down his chest, your lips and tongue teasing every inch of his skin until you reach his hips.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration and desire. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten with anticipation and a hint of nervousness. You want to make this moment as special and comfortable for him as possible.

With a reassuring smile, you kiss the inside of his thigh, your breath warm against his skin. Seokmin's breath hitches, and he lets out a soft moan as you continue to plant gentle, lingering kisses along his thigh. You can feel his body relax slightly, his fingers gripping the sheets as he surrenders to the sensation.

You take your time, your kisses slow and deliberate, your tongue tracing delicate patterns on his skin. You move closer to his centre, your mouth hovering above him, your breath warm and teasing. Seokmin's eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain control.

"Y/N," he breathes, his voice filled with longing and uncertainty.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with tenderness. "It's okay, baby," you whisper. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

With that, you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him in a soft, warm embrace. Seokmin lets out a deep, shuddering moan, his hips bucking involuntarily. The sensation is overwhelming, and he can't hold back the sounds of pleasure that escape his lips.

You work him with a slow, deliberate rhythm, your tongue swirling around him, exploring every inch. You can feel him trembling beneath you, his body responding to your touch in ways that make your heart race. You take him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you create a gentle suction, your hand wrapped around the base to provide additional stimulation.

Seokmin's fingers tangle in your hair, his grip tight but not forceful. He's lost in the pleasure, his mind a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. Every touch, every movement of your mouth sends waves of ecstasy coursing through his body.

You continue your ministrations, your pace steady and unhurried. You want to draw out the pleasure, to make this experience as intense and enjoyable for him as possible. You can feel him getting closer, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, his moans growing louder and more desperate.

"Y/N, I'm—" he begins, his voice strained.

You don't stop, and your movements become more fervent and insistent. You want to take him all the way, to show him just how much you love him, how much you want to please him. With one final, deep suck, you feel him tense beneath you, his body shuddering as he reaches his climax.

Seokmin cries out your name, his hips bucking as he releases into your mouth. You take it all, your tongue and lips milking every drop, your hands soothingly caressing his thighs as he rides out the waves of pleasure. When he finally relaxes, you pull back, a satisfied smile on your lips as you look up at him.

He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to catch his breath. His eyes are half-lidded, a dazed, blissful expression on his face. You crawl up his body, your hands and lips trailing soft touches and kisses as you make your way back to his lips.

You kiss him deeply, allowing him to taste himself on your lips. Seokmin responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. The moment's intensity, the raw physical and emotional connection, leaves you both trembling with desire.

"Y/N," he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. "That was... incredible."

You smile, your heart swelling with love for him. "There's more, Seokmin," you murmur, your eyes dark with desire. "If you want."

He nods, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips. "I want you, Y/N. I need you," he says, his voice filled with conviction.

You move to straddle him, positioning yourself just above his now-hard-again member. You take a moment to look into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. All you see is love and desire, making your heart race.

"We'll go slow," you promise, your voice soft and soothing. "We'll take it slow, baby."

Seokmin nods, his hands resting on your hips, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. You guide him to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly, inch by inch, until he's entirely inside you. You both gasp at the sensation, your bodies perfectly aligned, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Guide him to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly, inch by inch, until he's entirely inside you. You both gasp at the sensation, your bodies perfectly aligned, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

The feeling is intense, a delicious mix of pleasure and slight discomfort. You take a moment to breathe, to adjust to the incredible sensation of having him fill you so completely. His eyes are wide, his lips parted as he gazes up at you with a blend of awe and desire. You can feel his heartbeat racing against your skin, matching the wild thrum of your own.

"Are you okay?" you whisper, your voice calm and tender.

He nods, swallowing hard. "Yeah," he breathes, his hands tightening on your hips. "You feel... so good."

You smile down at him, your heart swelling with love. "So do you, Seokmin. So do you."

You start to move slowly at first, rocking your hips in a gentle rhythm. The friction is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body with every movement. Seokmin's hands slide up your sides, exploring the curves of your body with reverence. His touch is warm, grounding you in the moment.

"God, Y/N," he groans, his head falling back against the pillows. "This feels... amazing."

You can't help but smile at his reaction, the pure, unfiltered joy in his voice. You increase your pace slightly, finding a rhythm that makes your breath catch and your heart race. The room is filled with the soft sounds of your bodies moving together, the mingling of your breaths, the occasional gasp or moan of pleasure.

Seokmin's hands find your breasts, his fingers brushing over your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You arch into his touch, encouraging him. He takes your nipple between his fingers, rolling it gently, and you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"Yes, Seokmin," you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. "Just like that."

He watches you with wide, dark eyes, his lips parted, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The sight of him, so overwhelmed with desire, so open and vulnerable, sends a fresh wave of arousal through you. You lean down to kiss him, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, tasting the sweetness of his mouth.

His hands slide down to your hips, guiding your movements, his grip firm but gentle. You move together, finding a rhythm that feels right, that brings you both closer to the edge. The sensation of him inside you, the way he fills you completely, the way his body responds to yours, is almost too much to bear.

"Seokmin," you gasp, your voice catching as a particularly intense wave of pleasure washes over you. "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."

"Me neither," he groans, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "Y/N, I—"

You both lose yourselves in the moment, the world narrowing to just the two of you, the heat of your bodies, the mingling of your breaths, the heady scent of desire that fills the air. Every touch and movement is filled with love, passion, and a deep, undeniable connection.

You can feel the tension building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatens to snap at any moment. Your movements become more urgent, more desperate as you chase that elusive climax, your body trembling with the effort.

"Seokmin," you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your need. "I'm so close."

"Me too," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips, his eyes wide and dark with desire.

With a final, urgent thrust, you feel the coil of pleasure inside you snap, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense, overwhelming sensation. You cry out, your body shaking with the force of your release, your mind going blank with the sheer intensity of it.

Seokmin follows you over the edge, his own climax tearing through him with a force that leaves him breathless. He moans your name, his hands gripping you tightly as he spills inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his pleasure.

For a moment, you both lie there, tangled together, your bodies trembling, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The world slowly comes back into focus, and you realise that you're still holding each other, your bodies still connected, the aftershocks of your orgasms still pulsing through you.

You smile, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this incredible, beautiful man. "Thank you, Seokmin," you whisper, kissing his lips softly. "That was... amazing."

He smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "No, thank you, Y/N," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "You made this the best birthday I've ever had."

You laugh softly, your heart full. "Happy birthday, Seokmin," you say, your voice tender. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replies, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything."

You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, savouring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. The candles flicker softly, casting a golden glow over the room, and the scent of vanilla and jasmine lingers in the air, creating a cocoon of love and tenderness around you.

Eventually, you roll off of him, lying by his side, your bodies still touching, still connected. You trace lazy patterns on his chest with your fingers, your touch light and soothing.

"Do you feel okay?" you ask quietly, looking up at him with concern.

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I feel amazing," he says. "I was nervous, but you made it... perfect. Thank you for being so patient with me."

"Always," you reply, kissing him softly. "I love you, Seokmin. There's no rush. We have all the time in the world."

He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I love you too, Y/N," he murmurs. "Thank you for tonight. Thank you for everything."

You fall asleep in each other's arms, your bodies warm and tangled, your hearts full. The night had been a beautiful blend of passion and tenderness, a perfect beginning to a new chapter in your relationship.

SHUAGIRL © 2024. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

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[gglitch1dd]

Us & You Pt 1

DILF Kirishima Eijiro X Teacher FEM!Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can't help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Bullying, Discrimination, Angry Daddy Eijiro, Single dad Eijiro.

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father's role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It's very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn't find another character to be Sachiko's mom and you'll see why).

!!HAPPY 7K Followers to me!!

“Daddy!”

Eijiro happily snored in bed as he lay face first in bed. The large black-haired man was happy to stay in bed without a single care in the world. The sound of soft padded feet were heard as a little girl walked over to the giant bed that belonged to her father. She stood to the side closest to where he was with a huff. The black haired girl pushed against his bare back using all her force. She knocked herself against him, trying to get him up.

“Daddy!” She whined out again. “Wake up! I’ve got to go to school.” She reminded him.

Eijiro let out a load groan, his eyes squeezing shut as he turned away from the ten year old “Where’s… where’s Miss Hanako…” He mumbled barely awake. “Miss Hanako… take… school.” He let out in a tired drawl.

The little girl sighed before tilting her head to the side. “Miss Hanako is on maternity leave.”

… right.

His personal assistant was on maternity leave. Something he had forgotten about despite reminding his daughter that he would be taking her to school for the next couple of weeks just the night before. With a deep sigh, Eijiro slowly sat up from bed with messy long thick black hair. He scratched his head as he let out a deep big yawn, almost like a giant lion. “What time is it?” He asked still disorientated as he looked towards his side table.

“It’s seven.” She told him.

It took Eijiro a moment to recall what time that was. Suddenly his eyes opened wide as he looked down at her surprised. “It’s seven?” He asked shocked. She nodded her head. “Sachiko, why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” He quickly jumped out of bed and raced into his bathroom. “Did you shower!?” He asked loudly as he switched on his shower.

“Yep.” She told him as she moved to leave his room, not surprised that he didn’t notice that she was already in her school uniform.

Eijiro raced into the shower, reminding himself of the meeting he had been preparing all night for that he had at half past eight. However, if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t surprised that he woke up late nor that his daughter woke him up. Ever since she learned to walk, she always came to his room first thing. It was something Eijiro loved. Even now as she grew older and started to learn to do things for herself, the fundamentals didn’t change and he was grateful for that.

It was just their dynamic. It had always been them. Eijiro and Sachiko. Of course, they had the entire of the Kirishima family at their back and never really were alone with how much of their family was engrained in their lives constantly, but when it came down to it, it was always father and daughter. Even now, as Sachiko just closed the bento she made for him. It was a task that she wanted to learn to do and one she had been succeeding in. It was one of the many things he loved in his day that reminded him of his daughter.

Eijiro picked up a muffin as he walked into the kitchen, he took a bite of the warm baked good. He let out a groan at the taste, nodding at the muffin he was holding. He gave her a thumbs up making her smile as she moved around the kitchen making sure her own bento was ready and packed away. Eijiro walked over to fridge, looking at himself in the reflective surface. He adjusted his tie and gave himself a look.

Sachiko tapped his shoulder. Turning to face her, knowing that she was more the stylist between the two of them, she reached up on the tips of her toes and took off his tie, opening the first few straining buttons. She tilted her head, before nodding and taking her tie with her. “You finished your presentation, Daddy?” She asked him as she moved to place it on the sofa back.

Eijiro nodded his head. “Yes, just before midnight actually.” He told her as he moved to grab his daughter’s blazer off the wall.

Sachiko grabbed her bag and her father’s bento. She took off her apron, moving to hang it in the kitchen. She quickly moved to the foyer where her father was. She placed his bento down into his backpack. She set her own bag down.

Eijiro motioned for her to turn around which she did. He carefully slipped on her blazer onto her shoulders, slipping her arms through. He fixed her appearance for a moment, moving a strand of her hair back out of her face.

He smiled down at her, cupping her soft face in his large hands. She looked up at him, the two undeniably related looking so much alike. “You said your prayers?”

She nodded her head as he raised his eyebrow. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Did you do your affirmations?” Sachiko hesitated, earning a pointed look from her father. She gave him a bright smile, trying to distract him. Eijiro couldn’t help but chuckle. He shook his head with tsks. “Come on, you know the words.”

Sachiko sighed as she closed her eyes for a second before opening her crimson eyes again. She put her hands to her chest. “My name is Kirishima Sachiko, daughter of Kirishima Eijiro. I am constantly growing and developing into a good person. I am beautiful, I am strong, I am smart and I am talent. I know my values. I am as strong as a mountain and as proud as a dragon. I am a Kirishima, worthy, loved and true.” She finished with a gentle smile.

Eijiro looked down at her with a proud smile. He leaned down closer to her face. He placed his forehead against hers for a second. Sachiko placed her hands over her father’s with a smile. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Okay... lets go.” Taking her smaller hand in his own, the two of them left the apartment into the elevator.

Sachiko stood in the elevator with her father, holding on to his hand as the elevator descended down the tall building. “Daddy, I added my equestrian competition to your calendar.” She told him as she looked up at him. Sachiko was still much smaller than her father, but it wasn’t much of a surprise to Eijiro. She was still young and whether she grew taller like her Aunt Akari or stayed shorter like her other aunt, Tamami. He didn’t really care much.

“I saw. You don’t mind if I invite your grandma and grandpa, right? They’ve been hoping to see one of your competitions for a while now.” He asked her, honest.

Sachiko shook her head, her locks of black hair moving with her. “Of course, I don’t mind. I’d love to have them there.” She said sweetly with a bright smile.

“Perfect, because your grandfather has been on my case about it.” Eijiro moved to take his phone out of his pocket but paused. It was then he noticed that Sachiko’s hair was curled. Long curly thick locks of black hair that fell to the middle of her back. He paused as he tilted his head to the side. “You curled your hair?” He asked surprised.

Sachiko put a hand to her curls. She nodded her head shyly, a soft blush on her face. “Yah… I thought I could do something different today.” She spoke softly, clearly a bit self-conscious about it. She flicked her eyes back up at him. “Is… is it okay? Does it look nice?” She asked worriedly.

Eijiro let out a soft breath, before giving her a genuine smile. “You look perfect, sweetheart.” He gave her hand a squeeze as he shoved her softly. “My precious little diamond.” Sachiko brightened up, her posture straightened up as she smiled up at him happily.

The elevator door opened and Eijiro led the two of them out into the underground parking. It wasn’t a very usual thing for Eijiro to drop his daughter to school, normally his personal assistant would drop and pick up Sachiko back into Eijiro’s care but with her on maternity leave it meant a new routine. It was, however, not exactly unwelcomed from the pair so it wasn’t too much of an adjustment.

Eijiro opened the door for her, allowing her to enter the door first before getting in himself. Sachiko watched as he put on the engine and slowly started to reverse out of parking. She looked at her father for a moment before putting on the radio to listen to the news. Her grandfather often told her that it was important to hear about your world at least once a day, whether it be on the news or radio or some other way. She tried to stick to that as best she could, because she trusted in her grandfather and how he got to be the man he was.

Eijiro focused on the road as the radio host spoke on the morning show. Suddenly the mention of a certain name pricked his attention. “…the trendsetters in fashion, the Bakugous, have once again broke barriers in the fashion industry with their new more affordable line for spring season. Bakugou Katsuki has talked about expanding branches out of Japan for the family own deal-”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Eijiro started, “Mind putting on some music this morning?” He asked her rather nonchalantly.

Sachiko shook her head as she looked to her father for a moment before moving to media. Eijiro held the stirring wheel hard but focused his attention on getting his daughter to school and making it through the horrible morning traffic.

Finally making it to the private prestigious middle school that was nestled not too far out of the city. Eijiro smiled as he looked to Sachiko who grabbed her bags and undid her seatbelt. “Okay, Daddy, remember that I finish at four. I added it to your alarms so that you know when you should leave the office. Don’t forget to eat your lunch and good luck with your presentation.” She spoke, moving to place a kiss on his cheek, before opening the door as the car came to a still.

He chuckled. “Thank you, Sachi. Have a good day at school, sweetheart. I love you.”

Sachiko paused at the door, holding the door open still for a second before putting on a soft smile. “I love you too, Daddy.” With a wave of goodbye, she closed the door and easily found her way to her friends that stood near the entrance waiting for her.

Eijiro let out a soft breath as he watched her leave. She reminded him so much of himself as she talked with her friends with a broad smile on her face, her red eyes bright and happy. It was as if every day she was growing more and more and it scared Eijiro half to death. He knew he was an old sap but he couldn’t help but beam in pride at the sight of her. His daughter. She was his everything and he hoped she would always remember that.

Eijiro sat behind his monitor screen, his eyebrows furrowed as he had his phone to his ear as he typed away at his keyboard. He listened to the phone call he was on as he absently typed at the document he was working on. “Yah… yah of course.” He nodded his head to the person on the other side of the line. Walking into his office was his older sister who also just so happened to be his boss. Eijiro nodded as he leaned back in his chair. “Send it our way and we’ll take a look at it. Alright, thank you.” He put down the phone, moving his phone back down onto his desk. He let out a breath.

“You look stressed, Eijiro.” Eijiro flicked his gaze up to his older sister, Akari as she walked over in her black heels over to his desk. She moved herself to sit on the edge of his hard wood desk, crossing her long legs as she folded her arms over her chest. The tall woman looked down at her younger brother amusedly. “When was the last time you had fun, hm? Go to the bar, get a drink, or maybe even get laid.”

He rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his black cushioned chair. “I don’t have time right now.” He told her, moving to look at his calendar on his widespread monitor. “Without Hanako picking up and looking after Sachiko, I can’t let loose right now.”

Ever since him, Eijiro stopped much care about romance and finding love. It was a sad thing, however it allowed Eijiro to focus on the single most important thing in his life, and that was his daughter. Nothing else mattered to him. She was the reason that he worked so hard, the reason he stopped dyeing his hair and accepting himself how he is so that she would never need to feel different about her own, she was the reason he was so engrossed in his family once again in order to raise her.

Akari rolled her ruby eyes at her younger brother’s excuses, not surprised at all. “Yah, it’s probably for the best.” She stated, making Eijiro nod his head in agreement. “We can’t handle another one of your accidental baby mamas.” At that comment, Eijiro looked up with a glare making her chuckle. “Kidding, kidding.” She stated putting her hands up in self-defence.

“Don’t you have better things to do Akari, other than bully me?” Eijiro asked as he pushed himself out of his chair and moved to grab a drink from his mini fridge.

Akari looked at her manicured nails. “Well of course I do, Eijiro, being CEO to a multi-million-dollar diamond industry is a lot of work as well as being next Head of the family by default. However,” She tilted her head, her soft black locks brushing her forehead just slightly as she smirked at him. “Tormenting you is what helps me sleep at night.” Eijiro rolled his eyes as he moved over with a can of soda, handing it to her. She chuckled easily opening it. “You are my favourite employee.”

“You just say that because you’re allowed to abuse me more than the others.” He spoke plainly.

She nodded, not denying it as she took a sip of the grape flavoured drink. Eijiro sat down as he sighed shaking his head. “Come on, Eijiro, you’re so dramatic. Even more dramatic than my surrogate and she’s pregnant with my child.” She reminded him.

Eijiro turned to look up at her. “How is she?”

Akari immediately put down the can and took out her phone. “Absolutely glowing. She looks gorgeous with my child inside of her, look!” She swiped to a photo of said woman, shoving the phone screen in Eijiro’s face to see. “She’s great, being pampered at home because she doesn’t know what it means to take a break. The doctor said that everything’s great with the baby and my new little girl should start moving around soon.” She swiped showing Eijiro the ultrasound scan.

Eijiro looked up at his sister as she started to ramble on about the new baby yet to be born and all that. Akari already had three boys that she carried herself when she was married to her husband, however after her husband died of cancer, she never really wanted any other man after that. He was her one and only and even if she did find someone else, they would never take the place he had with her or her sons. She always did want another baby, but she didn’t want to get off of work. Eijiro thought she was probably scared about being put back in a time in her life where she had her partner to support her.

Akari was the type of woman to work hard to where she was today. She worked hard as the eldest daughter of Kirishima Takeo to prove to him and the other family members that she could head the company after his retirement. She proved that she could do it all. She could be a mother, she could be engaged in her family life and she can do her job without feeling weak about it. Even when she was pregnant, her other siblings were there to fill in the gaps like they always were in the Kirishima family.

Eijiro was proud of her and admired her a lot more than he would ever say to her face. “I’m glad. You ever need me or Sachiko’s help, we would be more than willing to be over.”

Akari moved to slide off his desk, standing up straight in her black jumpsuit. She put a hand to her broad hips as she waved her other hand down. “No, it’s alright. Ma already has her bags packed for when it’s the third trimester. She’s determined to be there for the boys and I.” Even though she rolled her eyes, Eijiro could see the appreciation behind those eyes.

Before Eijiro could comment, his phone rang. He raised an eyebrow at the unknown number but moved to answer the phone. “Kirishima Eijiro, speaking.”

“Kirishima-san, this is your daughter’s home room teacher Ms T.” Eijiro perked up at the voice. “Unfortunately, we need you to come to the school, Mr Kirishima. Your daughter was in a fight.”

“A fight?” He asked confused as he tilted his head confused. It didn’t sound like his Sachiko at all.

“Yes sir. We will tell you more when you get here.”

“Is she alright? Is she hurt?” He asked quickly as he got up from his desk. Instantly, Akari looked worried at what Eijiro was saying.

The homeroom teacher hesitated for just a second and that was enough to have Eijiro worried beyond belief. “She’s fine, Mr Kirishima. We just ask you to come as soon as possible.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” He put down the phone and immediately moved to switch off his monitor. His movements were rushed and yet pretty accurate for having his mind clouded with all possible scenarios. “Sachiko was in a fight.” He spoke out without Akari needing to ask.

The older woman had her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh my goodness, is she okay?” She asked as she followed him as he slipped his laptop into his bag.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to be exc-”

“It’s alright, Eijiro, just go.” She dismissed automatically as she followed his hurried footsteps out of his office. She glanced at him, watching the way he frowned, a scary sight that reminded her so much of their father. Almost something mixed with worry and yet almost anger. Akari knew it wasn’t aimed at his daughter, but at the poor soul who decided they could touch his daughter. “You need me to come with you?”

Eijiro shook his head as he pressed the down button for the elevator. Some employees watched in interest as the two Kirishima seemed to be in a rather bad mood today. Nothing was ever good when two Kirishimas were upset together. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got this. I’ll call you later.” He notified her just as he stepped into the elevator. “And don’t tell Abba, not until I know what’s going on.”

Eijiro slammed his car door as he moved towards the school entrance with large strides. Standing at the entrance was his daughter’s homeroom teacher, Ms T. He had met her only twice before, once at the beginning of the school year and another time at a parents association meeting. He didn’t mind her all that much.

At the sight of him, she bowed at the waist, always being instructed to do so with such high paying patrons of their school. “Mr Kirishima.” She greeted, before leading him inside.

“Where’s my daughter?” He asked not caring much about pleasantries or caring enough to take the time to look around at the school and its impressive clean hallway or foyer.

Miss T, tried her best to keep up with him at his large strides as she scurried forward, her heels clacking against the marbled floor. “She’s in another teacher’s office as we speak, but I’m taking you to the principle’s office.” She looked up feeling his gaze on her. He had an unimpressed look on his face, a single black eyebrow raised up at what he hoped was not a teacher joke. She looked away from him, clearing her throat. She led him up a flight of stairs before reaching a door that led into the principle’s secretary’s space before walking into the principle’s office.

The principle, an older gentleman with a frown on his face as a woman seemed to be basically shouting at him from across his desk as she sat in her cushioned seat. The older thin-haired man seemed rather exasperated from her rambling. Standing in the corner was another teacher who kept to herself beside the other woman.

The principle, Mr Tanaka, upon noticing Eijiro immediately stood up from his chair. He bowed. “Mr Kirishima, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Eijiro nodded his head at best as he moved to sit down in the other free chair beside the other woman. The two teachers decided to step to the side, almost like silent spectators as the door was closed and finally the issue could be addressed. Mr Tanaka cleared his throat as he put his hands in front of him. “Kirishima-san, your daughter as well of Mrs Fujihara’s daughter were in a bit of a… dispute.” He put kindly. Eijiro had his arms crossed over his chest as he sat up straight. He didn’t say a word as he kept his eyes on Mr Tanaka. “Miyu and Sachiko got into an argument, some words were said and Miyu ended up pushing Sachiko.” He explained slowly. “Which resulted in Sachiko spraining her wrist.”

“What you’re telling me is my daughter was assaulted.” Eijiro summarised frankly.

Mr Tanaka hesitated for a moment, but Mrs Fujihara didn’t seem to have the same restraint. “My daughter did not assault anybody. She can’t commit assault in the first place, she’s eleven.” She spoke boldly and loudly, trying to stand up for her daughter who Eijiro considered lucky she wasn’t here.

Eijiro glanced down at her with a scowl instantly raising the tension in the room. Eijiro effectively ignored her as he looked back to Mr Tanaka. “What were the girls arguing about?”

Immediately everyone in the room seemed to not have an answer for him. He looked to the principle who looked through the report that was given to him not even five minutes ago. Mrs Fujihara also suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words as she turned to look away from Eijiro with a huff. He raised an eyebrow as he looked to his daughter’s home room teacher who also seemed not eager to answer his question.

“Mr Kirishima, I can assure you that it was nothing serious and has been resolved amongst the girls-”

“That is not what I asked, Tanaka.” Kirishima said with a roll of his eyes. “I asked about what were the girls arguing about.”

“Mr Kirishima I can assure you that-”

“Sir.” Taking Kirishima’s attention was the teacher who was already in the room when he had entered. You were dressed professional and yet cute as well. Eijiro looked at you, not remembering ever being introduced to you before nor hearing your name. You kept your eyes down away from him as you bowed deeply and lowly. “I was the teacher on duty when this happened and I sincerely apologies for what transpired. I was busy helping another student and if only I was more attentive this could have been avoided.” You started, your voice sincere and almost filled with sadness about what had happened. “To answer your question, Miyu was teasing Sachiko about her parentage, sir. Specifically, the fact that she… she only has one.” Eijiro went still at the words you said. “Sachiko proceeded to speak about supposed allegations concerning Mr Fujihara and Miyu then pushed Sachiko off her chair. I was just able to separate the fight before anything else could happen.”

The room was silent after you finished speaking, no one truly knowing what to say. Mrs Fujihara cleared her throat as she motioned to you. “As you can see, your child, Mr Kirishima is-” Her words stopped in her throat as dark ruby eyes flicked to look at her. Eijiro’s face was emotionless as he hadn’t said a word since you had started speaking. She swallowed down hard as she decided against speaking again.

Eijiro’s eyes than flicked to Mr Tanaka. He let out a breath as he tried his best to relax in the chair he dwarfed. He kept his hands on his lap, his grip tight. “I send my daughter to your school, and this is the type of actions you allow to take place here?” He asked lowly, his temper only increasing the more he wanted it to diminish.

Mr Tanaka put on a nervous smile as he chuckled, sweat appearing on his forehead. “Sir, that is-”

“What’s so funny, Tanaka?” The principle went stiff. Kirishima didn’t smile, glaring at the man opposite him. “You find my daughter being bullied funny?”

The other parent in the room turned to Eijiro shocked. “My daughter,” Mrs Fujihara started. “Is not a bully. She-”

“Such incidents don’t happen in isolation. Tell me, have the girls fought before? Physically or verbally?” He asked, dismissing Mrs Fujihara all together as he stared at the principle. Mr Tanaka was at a loss for words, not entirely sure on what to say or how to comment. He scratched the back of his head. Eijiro’s jaw tensed in annoyance. This was getting him nowhere. He turned to you. “Has this happened before?”

You hesitated, glancing at your boss he seemed rather adamant about you not saying anything. You looked back to Eijiro. The large man had hard ruby eyes but behind them all you saw was slight fear. “Yes... It has. Verbally with light shoving and all that, nothing major. We have talked to Mrs Fujihara about her daughter’s behaviour to other students before.” You told him honestly.

“And yet nothing was communicated to me?” He asked lowly, glancing back to look at Ms T, his daughter’s homeroom teacher. She was silent as she lowered her demeanour almost not wanting to face him. “I see...” He folded his legs over one another and faced Mr Tanaka. “Considering that communication is so lacking in this school’s community, you shouldn’t be surprised if communication about the Kirishimas’ sudden leave as a main sponsor to this school is also... lacking.”

Mr Tanaka sat up in worry. “Mr Kir-”

“What punishment is Miyu receiving?” He asked straight to the point.

Mr Tanaka paused for a moment. “Suspended for three days and on detention for two weeks.” He notified him confidently in the punishment they were giving to her.

Eijiro was silent once more as he took a moment to think it over. He huffed with a nod. He turned to look at you, startling you slightly. “Where is my daughter?”

“I-In my office.”

With a grunt, Eijiro stood up. Your eyes widened at the pure size of him. With him standing right in front of you, it made you feel so small just looking up at him. He radiated the same presence he did when he first entered, power and control. He looked rather stern and other than in looks (which he looked identical to his daughter in), you wondered how such a man could raise such a sweet girl. “Please take me to her.” It was more of a demand than a request. You nodded your head as you motioned towards the door once more.

Mr Tanaka cleared his throat as he too stood up. “Mr Kirishima, we’ll talk more about this over the phone.”

Eijiro ignored him as he followed you out of the room. You walked by his side, your small body trying to lead the way through the halls as he followed beside you. He noticed your hurried steps trying to make sure to keep up with him. He slowed down for a moment, allowing you to take the lead at a better pace for you.

You noticed it almost instantly, which you smiled at as you led him down the corridor. Then you paused. You turned back to him with a bow once more. “I… I have to once again apologize, sir. Really, I wish this never occurred. I apologize for my negligence.”

“Please, you aren’t responsible for other people’s actions.” Eijiro reminded you with a stern look with a stern look as he folded his arms over his chest. He let out a sigh as he looked to the side. “I apologize for my behaviour. You are all trying to do your jobs and here I am-”

“No.” You quickly stepped forward closer to him, catching Eijiro by surprise. You looked up at him with urgency in your eyes and yet something kin to understanding. “You don’t have to apologize. You are a father worried for your child. It is only to be expected.” Eijiro’s eyebrows raised in surprise at your words. It was the last thing he was expecting from a teacher, especially with what he had just said to all of you. You gave him a training smile, gentle and easing. “Besides, I’ve seen worse parents.”

He let out an amused scoff. “I bet you have.” He spoke out lowly, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine as you tried your best to keep your composure. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

You perked up at that fact. “Oh! I didn’t introduce myself.” You bowed at the waist, your hands in front of you as you closed your eyes. “Ms L/N, but Ms Y/N is just fine, the kids prefer to call me that.”

He smiled and for the first time since you knew him you saw something just like his daughter. That beautiful smile. “Ms Y/N...” He said your name trying it out on his lips. “Kirishima Eijiro, Sachiko’s father.”

You giggled, which made the edges of Eijiro’s mouth tilt upwards. “I know who you are Mr Kirishima. Your daughter talks a lot about you.” You revealed to him, as you motioned for the two of you to keep moving.

Eijiro raised an eyebrow in intrigue. “Really? What does she say?”

You shook your head with a smirk. “That’s between Miss Kirishima and I.” You kept your lips sealed.

Eijiro chuckled at the statement. He raised a single eyebrow in intrigue, glancing down at you amusedly. “Between you and Sachiko, huh?” He asked you amusedly. You nodded your head agreeing with his statement. He hummed not convinced which only made you giggle. “So you and Sachi must be close to be gossiping about me.”

“We don’t gossip, sir. We just comment.” You reasoned earning a scoff from Eijiro. “You’re daughter and I…” You hesitated and yet Eijiro saw a soft expression on your face, gentle and calming. “Your daughter is real special. She’s such a good girl, always doing her work and trying her best in her classes. She’s such an interactive learner too, which makes her such a pleasure to teach last year. She’s very respectful and kind. You raised her well, sir.” You reported to him, sincere and true.

Eijiro looked down at you for a while before a proud look went to his face. He smiled. “Thank you and please, don’t call me sir. You’re making me feel old.”

You giggled lightly. “Old? There’s nothing wrong with being more mature than others.”

He rolled his ruby eyes at your wording. “Don’t compare me to wine. You seem rather…” His eyes caught on you as you walked beside him. You looked up at him with wide eyes attentive and capturing his very soul. His ruby eyes trailed your body for a moment. His breath caught in his throat as he chastised himself for checking out the young cute teacher that was leading him to his daughter. He closed his eyes and held his hands behind him, gripping his hand hard enough to try and distract his thoughts to more pure ones. “You’re way too young to understand.”

You chuckled with a shake of your head. “I am not that young.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Jesus.” Eijiro let out as he looked away from you, making you laugh. “Now you’re making me really feel old.” He commented.

You paused at the door of a classroom, looking at him with a smile that held something behind it. “Well you know what they say about wine, Mr Kirishima.” You leaned forward slightly exposing a bit more of your chest to him unbeknownst to you. “It tastes better the older it is.” You moved to open the classroom entering first.

Eijiro had to pause for a moment, briefly closing his eyes for a second. He took a breath, praying he can get through this without having the urge to pound into you on the closest desk.

He recollected himself and entered in following you. The classroom was brightly lit, decorated in a way that showed your personality so well. It was bright with colour and personality, it seemed like an enjoyable place to learn. He looked around surprised at the whole format of the middle school classroom, however he tried to remain focused as he watched you move to a door not too far from the entrance of the classroom. You motioned for him to follow you.

You opened the door. Inside was a small office space with shelves on the walls and a multitude of maths textbooks. So you were a maths teacher? However, taking all of his attention was his daughter who sat in the cushioned chair behind a desk drinking from a cup of tea and eating biscuits. The girl looked over to the two of you. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. “Daddy...”

“Sachi!” He quickly moved towards her, forgetting everything around him. He crouched down at her side, his ruby eyes moving to the wrist brace that was on her left arm. He gently moved to touch her arm, his eyebrows furrowed in worry,

Sachiko quickly saw the worry in his eyes. She forced a smile onto her face. “I’m fine, Daddy. I managed to land on my left arm so I can still write. I’m okay, it was nothing bad. I’ll be alright.” Her words were laced sweetly with a smile on her face and yet you watched her father not smile. You moved to close the door, wanting to make sure that anyone who came into your class wouldn’t disturb the two of them. You stood outside the door, giving them the room.

Eijiro frowned as he looked up at her. He reached a hand up to her face, caressing her cheek as he looked up at her. “My sweet little miracle...” He spoke lowly. “They’ve been hurting you, haven’t they? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eijiro watched as Sachiko kept her smile for a moment, looking at her father. Suddenly her smile started to waver as she looked to him, her beautiful crimson eyes becoming glossy and filled with tears. Her smile was replaced with her frown as she bit her bottom lip trying her best not to sob. Small whimpers left her mouth as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Eijiro quickly picked her off the chair and held her to his body, holding her head gently and rubbing her back. He shushed her sweetly, but it only made the girl cry harder. She clutched onto his back harshly as she cried in his arms. Eijiro held her tightly as she cried. “It’s okay, my little miracle. Daddy's here. Daddy’s always here.” He comforted her, placing a kiss on her head. The sound of her crying made Eijiro tear up. “I'm sorry Daddy wasn't there to protect you.”

She sniffed as she turned her head trying her best to breathe through it. “Daddy... they... they were so mean to me. I didn’t wanna cry, Kirishimas don’t cry.” She shook her head as she tried her best to stop her tears.

“Oh sweetheart,” He moved to angle her head up to look at him. He gave her a gentle smile, his own eyes being glossy. “Even dragons cry.” That only made her face break as she buried her face in his chest. Eijiro let her cry as much as he wanted, patting down her hair and allowing her to compose herself on her own. “I know that people can be really mean, and they say awful things, but that’s why we have affirmations. We have to affirm who we are and that we aren’t what people say we are.”

“But what if we are what people say we are?” Eijiro grew stiff for a moment. Sachiko looked up at him with a frown. “Daddy... I don’t have a mommy like the other kids.”

Eijiro tried to keep his composure, he knew this would come eventually. “That doesn’t make you any less than them.” He reminded her. “It doesn’t make you any less my little miracle. Yes, you don’t have a mother, Sachi, but that doesn’t define you as a person. You are a kind and loving young lady and you are so loved by me, your grandparents, your aunts and every single person that has the pleasure of knowing you. Okay?” She nodded her head as she wiped her face. Eijiro took his handkerchief and wiped her nose making her whine in annoyance. He chuckled. He pat down her hair before cupping her face in his large hands. “I love you, Sachi.”

She gave him a gentle smile. “I love you too, Daddy.”

Eijiro gave her a kiss to her forehead before scooping her up. While she dusted off her skirt with her good hand, Eijiro pushed in the black cushioned chair. “Hey sweetheart, Ms Y/N is she one of your teachers?”

Sachiko shook her head as she watched him. “Not this year, but she was last year. I ended up in a different maths teacher’s class this year, unfortunately. She’s so nice, Daddy. She lets me sit in here sometimes whenever Miyu and the others pick on me during lunch when I’m not with my friends. She even let me eat her cookies sometimes too.” Sachi spoke with a smile on her face.

Eijiro nodded his head as he put a hand on her shoulder, leading her out of your office. You stood in front of the door, almost as if you were keeping watch, making sure no one would disturb them. The gesture was noticed and appreciated by Eijiro. You turned at the sound of the door opening. You smiled.

Sachiko moved to stand in front of you. She bowed to you. “Thank you for everything Ms Y/N.”

You chuckled waving a hand down. “It’s no problem, sugar.” Surprising you, Sachiko moved in for a hug, which you happily took up. You held her tight in your arms, squishing her with a light laugh. Eijiro stood watching with a smile on his face, finding the action cute. You let go of Sachiko. “Don’t worry about maths homework. I told your teacher and he said he’ll have you catch up in class tomorrow.”

“Thank you!”

You hummed with a smile. Eijiro smiled with a grateful nod. “Thank you for taking care of my girl.” He spoke sincerely.

“It’s a pleasure, sir.” You bowed. “Now, excuse me but I need to prepare for my next class. Sachi you can show your father the way out, right?”

She nodded her head dutiful. “Yes, ma’am.” With a wave to you, the two of them left you alone in your class.

Ever since then, Eijiro couldn’t really get you out of his head. The cute, nice teacher that his daughter seemed to really like. He couldn’t blame her. You were really pretty and he couldn’t stop about how soft you seemed. Eijiro half thought himself a creep for crushing on you. You were ten years his junior for goodness sake. And yet... that didn’t stop his thoughts.

It sure also didn’t help that close to two weeks later there was the Parents Association meeting at school and you were there too. He was shocked to find you there.

Eijiro stood talked to the head of the PA, discussing the next fundraising event for the school when something caught his eye. He glanced to the side and saw you. You stood with another parent, having a rolling bag beside you as you spoke leisurely with a kind demeanour. Once again you were somehow dressed modestly and yet you were so eye-catching. Eijiro could barely focus on what he was in a conversation about.

“Yes, I think if we can raise about 10% more than last year-” You bowed your head to the parent and gave her a wave before moving towards the exit of the school building. Suddenly Eijiro felt rushed for time. “Right. Of course, well lets talk more about it over email. I’ll see you soon.” Eijiro said his goodbyes and tried not to act as if he was running towards the exit after you.

You stood outside, the sky already dark as you looked around for a moment, almost thinking about what you were to do now. Eijiro paused somewhere behind you, trying to get the balls to approach you right now. He let out a breath and stepped forward closer to you. “Ms Y/N.”

You turned to look at him, wide eyes staying on him. You smiled and Eijiro thought he would trip over his entire being. “Mr Kirishima, good evening.” You bowed over to him, standing pretty in your short, heeled shoes.

“I didn’t know you were part of the PA.” He started as he moved closer to you, his hands in his pockets.

You paused before chuckling. “I’m not. I was just working late. I really do want to attend but it often inconveniences me in travel, like right now.” You expressed with a sigh as you looked away from him for a moment.

Eijiro raised as eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

You turned to him, noticing the concern in his ruby eyes. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at you. You shook your head with a soft smile. “Nothing, it’s just that I have to get an uber to take me back home. That or I get to the bus stop, but I think the buses have stopped for the day.” You spoke as you took out your phone to check the schedule again.

Eijiro fished out his keys, unlocking his car. The huge Ford track flashed up to life, making itself known in the dark parking lot with a low rumble. “Come, I’ll drop you home.” He spoke as he took your bag for you and started making his way to his Ford Raptor.

Your eyes widened at the action and you quickly scurried after him. “It’s alright, sir. I’m okay. I can travel home myself.” You tried assuring him.

Eijiro waved a hand down. “It’s okay. What type of man would I be if I let you go home without making sure you were safe?” He asked rhetorically.

He moved to put your bag inside the back seat leaving you to stand beside his truck in surprise. The vehicle looked extremely expensive. A bit too expensive for your standards. You weren’t surprised though. This wasn’t just any private school you worked for. The parents here were wealthy with enough connections to the government to keep the media out of the face of the school. You weren’t surprised at all and yet you still felt flustered at the sight. Eijiro closed the back door and walked over to you. He opened the door for you, offering a hand to help you into the large Ford that was much too big for you to get into normally.

You chuckled. “Thank you.”  You took his hand, his large warm hand that was more gentle than it seemed, so certain in helping you. You slid inside, allowing him to close the door after you. As he closed the door, you took out your phone and texted your best friend who also was your roommate. You sent her your live location. Rather be safe than be sorry.

Eijiro got into the driver’s seats easily without a second of difficulty. He started up the engine and easily started to ease his way out of the parking lot. “You’ve got someone waiting for you at home?” He asked you as he focused on getting out of the school parking manoeuvring his larger than life car that suited him come to think of it.

You nodded your head. “Yes. My best friend Melissa.” You informed him.

“I want you to send her your location, also punch in your address into the GPS.” You looked to him in surprise that he would suggest it. He glanced at you and smirked in amusement. “I’m not going to kidnap you, but you can’t always trust people instantly.” He reminded you. “I’d want my daughter to do the same thing the moment she’s allowed to travel by herself.”

You were a bit surprised that he was thinking about your safety, and to be honest it made your face feel hot. You nodded your head. “I already did.”

“Good girl.” He spoke. You froze at the praise, trying to fight the heat to your face as you tried to focus on anything else. You watched him easily drive like it was second nature out of the school. He kept one hand on the steering wheel at all times, his sleeves pushed up to his elbow, exposing his forearm to you. “So… how was school?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the question. The sound of your laughter made him grin at the cheesy question. “It was fine.” You informed him honestly. “Have to grade some papers so it might be an even later night for me, but that’s alright.” You told him. You turned to look at him. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Boring work stuff.”

“Well, I’d love to hear about your boring work stuff.” You told him genuinely, looking at him.

Eijiro glanced at you unsure but let out an amused scoff. “I had to secure a sale of some products that we’re dealing with. That went surprisingly well. I was expecting more of some difficulty.” He expressed to you.

“Really? That’s great news. What products do you deal with?” You asked him, interested in more than you were just told about him.

Eijiro hesitated. Now it wasn’t that he wanted to lie to you, it was just that he had been through enough situations to know to be cautious about talking about what he did when especially since you didn’t know what he dealt with. It was a bit relieving actually. “Just raw materials.” He told you rather casually.

“Did you always want to go into business?” You asked him casually.

Eijiro slowed down as the two of you hit a red light. “Not really.” He told you honestly. “To be honest, I didn’t think myself as much of a corporate guy. Did you always want to be a teacher?”

You nodded your head. “It’s a calling. You have to do it if you have a calling, the else there’s no point.” You told him, truthfully with a fond smile on your face. “I like the thought of making an impact in someone’s life, even if it’s just for a short time. There’s so much more to teaching than just a syllabus. There’s caring for a child and ensuring their welfare and that they are able to learn in a productive and safe atmosphere. I just love the job cause I get to be surrounded by things I love.”

“Like maths?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You and your daughter are just the same.” You pointed out. “You really need to stop that mindset of you can’t do maths. It’s affecting her.”

Eijiro shrugged almost as if he couldn’t help it. “Kirishimas can’t do maths. I mean, we multiply pretty well but-” You gasped as you looked at him shocked. That made him laugh at your expression as he continued on forward. “It’s true. I have nine sisters, there’s ten of us in total.”

“You’re the only boy?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows in shock.

“That’s what shocks you?” He asked amusedly. “Not the ten kids?”

“Families come in all shapes and sizes.” That made him chuckle, but he nodded his head to your reasoning. “So what did you want to do if you didn’t want to go into corporate?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

Eijiro sighed at the question. He glanced at you, flexing his thick fingers. “Don’t laugh.” Automatically a smirk pulled to your face making him grumble. He let out a sigh as he decided to say it. “I wanted to start a gym.”

“Really?” You asked with a disbelieve chuckle. However, it made sense to you especially with how fit he seemed. His body was built like a brick house, showing he must be strict when it comes to his work out regime. “Why didn’t you?” You raised an eyebrow.

The dark-haired man beside you let out a breath as he dragged a hand through his hair, moving to the left. “I had just graduated with my business undergrad when Sachi was born. I could have followed my dreams, but dreams aren’t certain. My parents own the business I currently work for and my sisters also worked for them too. I wanted to ensure that Sachi got every opportunity and every single fund possible to ensure that should anything happen to me, she had it. Dreams might make me happy, but it might not ensure her happiness.”

You watched his face carefully. Worry lines on his face and yet you saw the phantom smiles as well. It was clear that he worried about his daughter a lot, that he was dead set on ensuring a future for her and yet he seemed to also love every second of that journey. Almost as if nothing, not even his dreams would come in the way of how important his daughter was to him.

You couldn’t help but have an adoring smile on your face at the sight of it. Eijiro glanced at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise at the look on your face. You hummed. “You’re a good father, Mr Kirishima.” You expressed, your voice gentle. “Sachi’s very lucky to have you.”

He paused for a second before letting out a gentle scoff. “Actually… I’m lucky to have her.” He took a moment before clearing his throat. “So when you aren’t teaching what do you do?”

Talking to Eijiro was almost as easy as breathing. He made it so easy almost as if you weren’t talking to someone you barely knew. It was almost as if you were talking to a friend. Sooner than you had hoped, you had arrived at your apartment building.

Eijiro peered up at the building. It wasn’t in the safest part of town but it was good enough that he wasn’t too concerned about you and your safety. He moved to exit the car, you tried pushing open the big heavy door. By the time you opened the door, Eijiro pulled it open the entire way, offering you a hand out. You gratefully took it, standing on your own two feet. He got your bag out for you which you were very much happy to receive.

“Thank you so much, Mr Kirishima. You’ve saved me and my pocket a bunch.” You spoke sincerely with a bow at the hip. “I don’t know how I could repay you.”

Eijiro shrugged keeping his hands in his pockets. “Give me your number.” It was a simple statement, closer to a demand than a statement but it still made your heart stop for a moment.

You raised an eyebrow with a smirk. You stepped closer to him, keeping your hands in front of you as you stared up at him, doe eyes in tow. “Rather demanding now, aren’t we? What do you want to do with it?”

“I want to talk to you some more.”

“Why?”

Eijiro’s ruby eyes never left your form, his heated gaze slowly moving up your figure making the pit of your stomach twist and burn in need. He let out a breath and smirked. “I know what I want.” He answered simply. “And you’ve intrigued me.” He took his phone out and handed it to you.

You looked up at him, not breaking eye contact, you took his phone. You focused on punching in your number before handing it to him. You looked him over before letting out a hum. You took the handle of your bag and turned to leave. You gave him a small wave. “Good night, Mr Kirishima.” You spoke simply, leaving him for the night.

It was late when you finally decided to wrap up marking for the night. You were tired and also way too drained to continue. The numbers were starting to look like sentences, and you saw that as time for bed. When you had just got yourself cosy in the covers that’s when you noticed the notification on your phone.

Eijiro: Hope you got up to your apartment safe.

You couldn’t help but start grinning like an idiot as you shot him a reply back.

You: The stairs gave me a bit of trouble, but don’t worry, I got them handled.

Eijiro: Careful now, never say never.

Eijiro: They trip you up when you least expect it.

You tried to bite back your giggles at the cringey dad joke, a voice at the back of your head telling you that you wouldn’t sleep tonight.

-Glitch1d

#kirishima #mha x y/n #kirishima x reader #dad kirishima #dilf kirishima #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijirou #eijiro x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima

[jinwoosungs]

{ 174 }

lover is a day.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

{ time changed, we're different | but my mind still says redundant things | can i not think? | will you love this part of me? | my lover is a day i can't forget… }

there were many different sides to sung jinwoo that he kept hidden from you, his lover.

things may have seemed perfect and happy for him on the surface, with him putting on a façade that he enjoyed his newly obtained powers and was grateful for the system’s presence in his life.

in the world’s eye, he was a celebrity; a hero meant to be worshipped as he takes on various gates for the sake of protecting others-

yet no one would ever know that deep down, he was still the scared and helpless e-rank hunter who lacked the confidence to truly shoulder such burdens. memories of his beaten and bruised body would resurface at the most inopportune times during one of his many raids, making his movements falter for the slightest moment before he wills himself to bury such self-deprecating thoughts, forcing himself to keep fighting.

never once had jinwoo been given the chance to cry and let out his emotions, yet still, he didn’t wish to burden those he loved with his anxieties.

and of course, you were none the wiser.

being a healer who stood by his side during a handful of missions, he had developed a fascination and fondness with you back when you worked as his healer during some low-level raids. he recalls developing the biggest crush on you, yet never once did he try to act on his feelings for you.

his own lack of confidence made him avoid ever speaking to you, forcing the usual, pre-awakened jinwoo to simply admire you from afar. only with his reawakened self (made stronger and more desirable due to the system) was what pushes jinwoo’s confidence in the right direction as he immediately sought your presence and asked you out.

from your shocked expression, it was clear that you didn’t recognize him (making jinwoo feel grateful for that fact) as you happily accepted his invite to dinner. it took all of the willpower jinwoo had to stop himself from grinning like a fool during the entire date, playing the role of the perfect gentleman that solely sought to woo you with his charms-

and after that first date, the rest was history.

jinwoo uses his feelings of love and adoration for you to hide his own anxieties and push back his true self to the furthest corners of his mind. never once did he want you to realize who he truly was, for he was certain that if you ever knew the truth of his identity-

then you would reject him.

not only was he keeping up his persona as being the world’s strongest for the mere public eye, but for you as well.

regardless of how hard it was to not tell you of his anxieties and how they manifested into panic attacks that would last for hours upon end-

he would not burden the one he loved the most with such meddlesome emotions.

ah… but… jinwoo should have realized that it was far too dangerous to keep his every emotion locked within the depths of his heart.

jinwoo was always too weak to shoulder the burden on his own-

he should have seen his breaking point coming from a mile away.

on this particularly night, jinwoo opens his eyes with a gasp. a sharp pain felt against his chest awakens him with a start, his mind replaying the memory of the double dungeons plaguing his mind. jinwoo swore he could still feel the large claymore piercing through his chest and cutting through his heart like butter. a sob threatens to wrack through his body, but he manages to bite down on his hand, choking back the sound as he watches your peaceful form still in a deep sleep.

jinwoo practically crawls out of bed, making a run for the restroom as he dry heaved into the toilet, tasting the bitterness of the bile settled in his throat. tears fell down his eyes while his whole body trembles in response, the vertigo, nausea, and pounding headache mixing together into an almost deadly cocktail that nearly destroys him.

you’re pathetic.

can you truly be the s-rank hunter that the world looks up to?

nothing about you has changed!

even if you level up, you’re still weakweakweakweak-

“jinwoo.”

like a beam of light, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your kind voice calling out to him. you press a kiss against his broad back and gently help him back up to his feet.

still in a bit of a haze, he watches you flush the toilet before returning to his side, your expression never once filled with disgust or shame for him. he softly calls out your name, but could do little than follow you back into the room.

you gently coax him into getting back into bed, spreading out the covers for him. as if his body was running on autopilot, he gets into bed without a single sound of protest. only when he was laid comfortably back against the plush pillows did you tuck him in.

“i’ll get you an ice cold glass of water, so you just wait for me, okay?”

“okay…” jinwoo whispers back to you, eyes filled with his unspoken words of love and devotion to you. you smile and press one more kiss against his forehead before heading out into the kitchen.

you were gone for a mere second when jinwoo became restless. the hunter’s legs itched with the desire to follow you; to somehow latch on to your comforting presence as he felt his heart began to race in a bit of a panicked manner. before he could even jump out of bed to join you, you returned to him with a tall glass of water.

you help him sit up and place the cold glass against his parted lips, watching as he eagerly drank the refreshing beverage with a loving smile. jinwoo ends up draining the glass within seconds, making you giggle as you place the emptied glass on the nightstand before returning to your side of the bed.

instead of going back to sleep like jinwoo expected you to, you end up scooting your body closer to him, wrapping your arms around his larger frame. with a hum of his name, you place jinwoo’s face directly against your chest all while drawing comforting circles against his back.

“you don’t have to tell me everything if you’re not ready… i just needed to come clean to you so that you won’t suffer in silence anymore.”

“hm…? sarang, what do you mean?”

you remain quiet for a few beats, pressing a kiss against his hair before admitting to him. “i remember you, back when you were still the weakest in the world.”

your confession makes jinwoo stiffen in response, but you immediately calmed him down by pressing yet another lingering kiss against his forehead.

“this doesn’t change my feelings for you… in fact, i felt a bit hurt that you would hide such a thing from me.”

jinwoo felt the tears dot his vision, shakily telling you, “i-i’m sorry, so so sorry…!”

you shake your head and gently place a kiss against his cheek, “no no no, don’t apologize. it’s just… i’m so upset that i never called you out on this sooner. i made you feel like you couldn’t tell me anything; i made you feel like i could only love you only if you maintained a certain personality with conditions you believed i had for you.”

he was taken aback by the sincerity of your words, finally meeting your gaze with an expression of hope. your eyes were shining with unshed tears as you rested your head against his, “i’m sorry. i didn’t wish to come off that way. i was just hoping to get closer to you; close enough so that you could trust me and tell me yourself-“

jinwoo couldn’t stand the thought of you taking the blame for his own insecurities, making him shake his head as he leaned in to press a kiss against your lips. “oh no, my love… you are my heart and soul; you had nothing to do with this. it was my own insecurities and decision that lead me to… to keeping everything bottled up.”

you give him a tearful smile, giving him another kiss before murmuring against his lips, “but it was my fault for waiting for so long… and i never wish for you to face your demons all by yourself ever again.”

jinwoo’s breath hitches in response to your words, and he allows you to carefully lay him back in bed with you. your hands were pressed against his chest in a comforting manner, and you lean in to press a kiss against his beating heart before cuddling closer to him with your arms wrapped around his back.

silence was felt permeating at the air for several seconds before jinwoo finally spoke in hushed tones. “i feel like i haven’t changed at all.”

you keep quiet, simply tightening your arms around him, silently beckoning him to continue.

“even with my newly obtained strength… i know i’m not the strongest… and that terrifies me… you don’t know how afraid i am of losing those that mean the most to me… of losing my mom and little sister- of losing you.”

jinwoo lets out a shaky breath, somehow feeling his heart become the tiniest bit lighter once he let out all his anxious thoughts to you. “but… admitting this fear to you right here and right now, i realize that i am now filled with a newfound determination to become stronger. i… despite how anxious i still feel… just… just feeling your warmth surrounding me makes me feel like i can do anything. that despite how i’m still the same sung jinwoo on the inside-

that doesn’t mean i can’t become stronger to continue to protect those that matter the most to me.”

you give him a loving smile, pressing another kiss against his forehead. “and you can count on me to be with you every step of the way.”

jinwoo was finally able to laugh again, feeling his dark thoughts disappear into thin air, meeting your gaze as he leans up to properly kiss you. knowing that he felt much better now, you ease jinwoo back into bed, giggling when you heard him let out a yawn before hiding his face within your chest.

“goodnight, my beloved jinwoo.”

“goodnight… to you, the absolute love of my life.”

feeling a newfound strength beginning to grow from within him, jinwoo was finally able to fall into a peaceful slumber void of any nightmares and dark memories…

a.n. - the webcomic doesn’t do a good job showing the lingering anxieties jinwoo must still have, and i wanted to explore that side of him and write a comfort fic for him 🥹 he needs someone like the reader to keep him grounded; to keep as a reminder that he is always loved and doesn’t have to shoulder the burden on his own.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo has always been good at hiding his anxieties for the sake of his loved ones #in this essay i will….

[mabelstone]

Imagine Being Loved by Me

hozier x f! reader

part three of lullabies <3 | part two | masterlist

cw: 18+, nothing too serious but a bit teeeny bit of smut

word count: 3.2k

taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure

Three weeks have gone by since I walked in on Joe piledriving another woman in my bed.

Three weeks ago after a beautiful morning of jazz music, pancakes, and instant coffee, Andrew drove me back to my house to pick up my car. I sent him away with an earnest hug, putting on my bravest face as I let myself inside. No shit, there were rose petals on nearly every inch of floor board. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, instead, tiptoed upstairs into my room. Joe was asleep in bed, and I nearly tasted my breakfast for a second time that morning. Instantly, I felt nauseated, the type that makes you hot and dizzy and want to run away and never come back.

I pushed the feeling back down, determined to grab all my shit and forget this tainted cell of a house I once loved more than anything. Furiously, I began stuffing all of my clothes into a suitcase. Then in another bag, I took everything that belonged to me; sheets, towels, everything down to the last teabag. I was fuelled with rage, huffing and puffing my way around the house, lugging my bags out to my car. Oh, fuck. My keys.

Where are my car keys?

I searched the house like a mad woman, tearing apart the couches, looking in every cupboard and under every piece of furniture. Nothing. I called Andrew, asking if I'd had them at the bar, as if he'd know the answer if I didn't. "Ehm... just your house keys? I tink..."

"I tink you're no help," I mocked, hanging up with the briefest of smiles before I was playing detective again. I searched for nearly an hour before caving in and waking Joe.

I shook his shoulder roughly, standing back with my arms crossed once he finally stirred awake.

"Mmm..." He groaned, and I waited patiently with a scowl for him to realise it was me and not some broad off the street. "Oh, you're finally home."

"Where are my keys?" I deadpanned, fuse shorter than ever. I wasn't in the mood for the slightest conversation with him.

"I missed you so much, babe," he sighed, pulling my stiff body into a hug. I peeled myself away from him, repeating myself.

"Where are my keys, Joe? I left them in the fruit bowl, and now they are gone."

"Let's talk first before we make any hasty decisions," he coaxed, pulling me by my wrists onto the bed beside him. "I can't explain how sorry I am."

"Joe, please."

"I've been up all night crying, my heart is broken," he sighed emphatically, taking my hand into his. Oh, you're the heartbroken one? "I can't imagine a life without you."

"You weren't thinking that way when you were fucking the girl you met at my show."

"You hadn't had sex with me in weeks! I was getting desperate-"

"Just stop," I barked, throwing his hand off of me. "Give me my car keys so I can leave. This doesn't need to be any harder than you've already made it."

After minutes of brutally painful back and forth, he gave me the keys to his safe. I unlocked it to find my keys and an open jewellery box with a sparkling engagement ring. He was sitting on the bed, eyes filled with optimism, and I almost fell for it.

My phone buzzed and I saw a message from Andy.

You haven't crashed your car have you? X

I took my keys and closed the safe, turning on my heels out of the bedroom.

"Um, what the fuck?" Joe called out as he followed close behind me, roughly grabbing at my arm when I was halfway out the front door. "I just proposed to you, and you don't even have the decency to say no?"

"No," I replied, unlocking my car and tossing my bags into the boot.

"What? Babe, don't throw this away," he began to cry, clearly panicked.

"I haven't thrown anything away. You have." I shoved him away by his chest, just about ready to boil over with anger. "You have destroyed any shred of trust I had in you. It's over, Joe."

My tough act began to slip as my voice shook, climbing into my car and slamming the door shut before he could see how hard this really was on me. He screamed something inaudible at me as I drove away, and I watched him sob into his hands from the rearview mirror.

I cried the entire drive to my mums, ignoring the hundreds of calls I missed from him.

Andrew and I continued to spend time together. I spent many nights at my mums place while I tried to look for a house. I didn't have rental history as Joe wouldn't put me on the lease... because I didn't have rental history. "Babe, it'll just make everything harder," was once his excuse.

When my step dad would get unbearable, Andrew would invite me to spend the night. These nights would frequently begin with me sobbing about how broken hearted I was, and end with him and I snuggling on the couch to a movie. Innocent enough, sure. But after weeks of abstinence following six years of frequent sex, I was pent up. So pent up to the point where I would have to excuse myself for some time alone with his retractable shower head. Many of my thoughts of Andrew were so explicit, you'd think they were from the brain of a teenage boy who'd plough through two boxes of tissues a day. This of course left me feeling inexplicably guilty and beyond confused.

Tonight, we drank wine and sang cheesy duets together. We clumsily danced and laughed until we cried. He had the coordination of a newborn giraffe, and though I'd never admit it to him, I wasn't much better. He drunkenly rambled about how in a perfect world, he'd own a cottage in Wicklow and keep bees. I told him how I'd be a florist who sold my Irish friends' honey.

As if routine now, we'd share a blanket on the couch and watch a movie. Last night was Superbad, tonight was Inception. Andrew mindlessly carded his fingers through my hair, and with the comfort that brought me mixed with the wine, I was out to it within minutes.

His beard tickled the inside of my thigh as he continued to bite and suck at the sensitive skin, eyes boring holes into mine with a devilish grin.

"C'mon, Andy," I whined, throwing my head back in frustration. I closed my legs over his head, desperate to feel his mouth on me where I needed it viscerally.

"Patience, darlin'," he tsked at me, spreading my legs wide before him again. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous right now."

"Please, just touch me," I begged, reaching a new peak of arousal that was actually causing me pain. "Anything, just fucking touch me!"

He just chuckled, locking his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer to his face. He continued to place hot, wet opened mouthed kisses along my thighs, his beard scratching over my clit for a split second, and I swore I was on the brink of orgasm immediately. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, impatience taking full control of my autonomy.

He licked a languid stripe up my clit, causing me to let out a guttural moan, arching my back beneath him. He pushed me back down by my hips, one hand easily reaching my breast as he toyed with my nipple.

"Fuck, Andy," I cried, eyes screwing shut as every single nerve ending of mine came alive.

"Look at me," he ordered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against my core. Without warning, my orgasm rippled through me, each nerve erupting like fireworks as I chanted his name.

I woke up panting, taking a moment to realise I was laying with Andrew on the couch. And processing the fact that I actually just orgasmed in my sleep.

"What's a'matter?" His voice was soft and concerned as he turned his head to face me.

"Weird dream," I laughed breathlessly, heart still pounding in my chest. This happened far too often. I almost wanted to spill my guts and confess everything he made me feel.

"Dreamin' of me, huh?" He grinned down at me, and I felt my cheeks burn.

A moment's silence.

"What?" Please tell me I wasn't moaning his name in my sleep.

"I'm jokin'," he laughed, averting his eyes back to the TV. "Unless you were."

I laughed along too, though in my head I was screaming. 'Unless you were,' what the fuck does that mean?

The credits rolled over the screen and like routine, we got off the couch and went to our separate rooms. Except this time, my heart didn't settle, and I didn't get much sleep.

We went about our days as usual, as if I didn’t fantasise about him every waking moment. I worried that I was catching feelings, and catching them far too fast for someone who'd only just gotten out of a 6 year relationship.

I couldn’t help it. I was infatuated. Infatuated was an understatement. I was completely and utterly enamoured by Andrew. I wanted to be in his presence every moment I could. I often told little white lies so I could spend the night, even though our we remained within a strictly friends only basis.

He was kinder than any man I’d ever met, insisting on having to open every door for me, sending me off to bed with a glass of water each night, and waking me with coffee just how I liked. He was gentle and tentative, always fast at identifying cues when I was upset.

But that’s all we were - just friends.

I began to crave his touch, desperate for any opportunity to feel his skin on mine. He’d often play me a new song he’d written, and I’d watch on with hearts for eyes as his skilled fingers worked his guitar effortlessly.

I saw it in his eyes too, sure he wanted me how I wanted him. I dreamt of climbing into his lap, kissing him until my lips were swollen or until he couldn’t take it anymore and we’d need to take off our clothes to satiate our desires.

But I couldn’t.

When it felt like we were moving in that direction, I’d turn ice cold. Though my heart was begging me to love him how he deserved, my brain knew this was probably just a rebound. And someone with a heart as golden as Andy's didn’t deserve the hell grief I’d cause him.

So I brushed off each pet name as if hearing them didn’t cause my stomach to do acrobats. I treated each night on the couch as if we were simply best friends who enjoyed each others' company. As though there was no other option than spooning on the couch where his scent became hardwired into my brain. I’d act as if I couldn’t feel his hard on pressing into the small of my back most nights. I’d pretend I’d have no idea what he was really doing when he’d have to excuse himself halfway through the movie to ‘make a call.’ It’s just how it worked for us.

And often, I wondered if it was torturing him as much as it was me.

We pulled up at the venue, Andrew of course opening my door for me, offering me his hand as I stepped out onto the kerb. I thanked him and we headed in together, turning a few heads as we did so. Not that this was unusual, he was 6’6” and painfully handsome, after all. He’d also given himself quite the name, rumours of a few producers attending tonight in hopes of setting him a deal.

“Remember me when you’re famous and touring the world without me,” I fake pouted, fluttering my eyelashes at him.

“Well obviously, nobody forgets their muse,” he bumped his shoulder into mine, that cheeky grin stretched across his face. “Besides, I owe you that much for giving me something to write about.”

I nearly choked on my drink, raising my eyebrows at him. “And what songs are written about me, hm?”

“The monster mash?” He kept a straight face, giving me that duh look at the same time.

“Oh, shut up, Andrew.” I laughed, acutely aware of the man who just sat beside me. “I’m being serious! It'd make me happy to know.”

“You’ll know when you hear ‘em, baby,” he grinned, throwing back his glass of champagne. Baby. My heart leapt from me, and in that moment I was grateful that he wouldn’t have noticed the deep blush splattered across my cheeks. He was too busy claiming another round of free drinks for us.

“Please tell me that’s your brother or something,” the man sat beside me spoke up, chocolate brown eyes so endearing, thick American accent on his lips.

"I sure hope not," I joked. His face fell, and I realise how that could've been misconstrued. "No- he's not my boyfriend either. We just sing together."

He put his hands together in prayer, looking up to the roof, mouthing, 'thank you, God.' I laughed at him, shaking my head. He had dark brown curls similar to Andy's, his were just more tame and much shorter. Full lips that twisted into a dopey smile, and if I weren't so confused with my emotions, I'd have jumped into a cab and gone home with him without a second thought. "I'm Will," he introduced himself, shaking my hand.

"Y/N," I blushed when he kissed my knuckles, wondering where the hell Andy had run off to. "Where are you from?" I attempted to avert the conversation, regaining ownership of my hand.

"Colorado," he smiled, signalling to the bartender that he wanted to order another round. "And you're a singer?"

"Uh... well I sing, yes," I giggled, the three prior glasses of bubbles gone to my head. "I wouldn't label myself a singer as such."

"Well aren't you just the cutest thing," he grinned, slipping his hand onto my thigh.

"I uh," I stammered, struggling to find the words. "That's very kind," my eyes searched the room for Andy. He towered over mostly everybody wherever we were, standing out like a sore thumb. But for some reason, he was nowhere to be found right when I needed him.

"I'm only in town for the night," he leaned in close to me, his breath hot in my ear, and his hand only getting warmer on my thigh. "Once you're done your little performance, why don't you come back to my hotel and give me an encore?"

Like the Gods had intervened, a familiar calloused hand was grabbing my arm. "C'mon, we gotta go backstage." I looked up to Andy, his expression rigid, bordering on disgust and anger.

"Oh, okay," I nodded, hopping up from my stool, Will's hand quickly retracted. "Uh, see you," I smiled awkwardly, Andrew's grip still around my arm.

"Here's your drink," he let me go, handing my glass to me.

"You saved me, Andy," I laughed, glancing back at the man who'd already moved onto his next victim. "Total wanker."

"Mhm," he hummed, not even looking at me as we made our way backstage.

"Everything alright?" I prodded, his expression unchanging. He didn't reply, instead opened the door to the green room for me. We weren't at our usual bar tonight. We'd been invited to perform at a decently size theatre that just so happened to be full of producers, offering free drinks for the performers. Maybe not the best combination.

The green room was alive with seven or so other musicians, all mingling amongst each other as they awaited their turns. There was a table lined with finger food, and a minibar with premixed drinks. Andrew had made a beeline straight for the snacks table. Typical.

"Um, hello?" I whisper shouted to him, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. "Is there a reason you're ignoring me? Is it because of that bloke? Because I-"

"Yes," was all he replied, taking his food to one of the couches with him.

"Okay," I was surprised with how forward he was, sitting down beside him, honestly perplexed by his rigidity. "...Why?"

"I didn't like the way he was talking to you," he shrugged, still avoiding my eye contact. "He was disrespectful."

"So... why are you icing me out, exactly?"

"I will say the wrong things, better to say nothin'."

This was unlike any way I'd seen him act before. Cold, annoyed... jealous? Surely not.

"Well, I'm sorry I- or he made you feel this way."

"Andrew Hozier-Byrne? You're on in two minutes," one of the stage hands announced, nursing his clipboard on his hip like a baby. "And we're still going ahead with the song change?"

Andy nodded, having a quick drink of water and tossing his rubbish away.

"Song change?" I questioned, following behind him. I made sure to watch every performance of his, even if it meant being amongst the audience when I wasn't also performing.

"Oh, yeah. When I went to get you a drink, I quickly changed my song. No biggie," he shrugged, tying his hair back into a bun, slipping his cap over the top. Jesus Christ, he looked fucking edible.

"What's the song?" I pressed further, still adamant despite the backstage timer ticking '30 seconds.'

"Haven't named it," he shrugged his guitar strap over his shoulders, giving me a wry smile. "It's about you, though."

I blushed deep, unable to form words. There was no space for talking anyway; he headed out onto the stage, leaving me dumbfounded as I watched on.

He awkwardly introduced himself, as he did each night.

And then followed my undoing.

I'd be the voice who urged Orpheus when her body was found.

I'd be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground.

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around.

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice.

Imagine being loved by me.

Suddenly, there was not nearly enough air behind this curtain as I watched on, awestruck.

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do.

So I try to talk refined in fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you.

I'd be the last shred of truth lost in the myth of true love.

I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of.

That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marvelling at God.

Before he feels alone one time and marries the sea.

Imagine being loved by me.

Fuck.

My knees felt weak, sure my ears were deceiving me. Imagine being loved by me. Oh, but I do.

Sure enough, producers from many labels were flagging him down from the minute his set finished, flooding the backstage where I was waiting for him.

I ended up having to go on straight after Andrew, thankfully. I couldn't think of any words to say, and the ones I could think of were highly inappropriate. Not that he would mind, clearly.

I hung around after my set, making eye contact with Andy here and there, waving him off when he looked like he might leave the conversations for me. I was happy for him. Ecstatic. And the craving for his touch only multiplied tenfold with his subtle admission that he felt the same.

tricked ya!! i am physically incapable of writing slow burn lol i hope u enjoy what i have for u in the next chapter xx it'll be very juicy (and hopefully longer)

i've also added a taglist as per a request, lmk if you wanna be added xo

#hozier #hozier smut #andrew hozier #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier fanfiction

[heyangel28]

Harry Styles as a Partner / Headcannons

• About to get into an argument or fight? He’ll just kiss you to shut you up. (Only if it’s just you being grumpy)

• Biggest gentleman EVER, won’t let you carry too many shopping bags into the house, always opens car doors for you, if a cupboard door is open when in the kitchen he’ll always hold his hand against the sharp corners so you don’t bang your head e.c.t

• If you tell him you’re going for a shower he’ll always leave warm, dry towels on the toilet seat

• “beautiful”/“gorgeous”>“hot”/“sexy”

• SIDE 👏WALK 👏RULE

• When you’re about to leave the house together he’ll take your hand and always make you do a little spin so he can see your full outfit (cute asf)

• GOSSIP SESSIONS ALL THE WAY, you both just sit cross legged facing each other on the sofa and he’ll run his hands up and down your legs or hold your hands and you’ll just tell him about all the gossip and tea you need to spill. What’s even better is he always joins in like a teenage girl at a sleepover. You could be like “so then she-…” and he’ll be like “girl no she didn’t-again!?”

• THE SMALL THINGS THAT MATTER like; leaving sticky notes on the mirror when you take a shower, random flower bouquet surprises “just cause”, helping cooking dinner, breakfast in bed, covering you over with a blanket when you fall asleep on the sofa, moving the shoes by the front door so you don’t trip over, braiding / doing your hair randomly, zipping up your dresses or helping you clasp necklaces e.c.t

• Moving past you by your hips (like if you were standing at the kitchen sink and he needed past he’d like hold your hips and sort of shimmy his way past kinda moving you ya know what I mean?)

• Randomly comes up behind you and lifts you off the ground and then spins you around before setting you back down on the ground

• Never leaves you wondering he is, if he ever needs to leave while you’re asleep he’ll leave a note letting you know where he is

• White girl music taste all the way: He will practically spawn at the sound of Katy Perry or Miley Cyrus

• Always takes it in turns to cook dinner and will never let you cook for him every night for a week straight because otherwise he feels like he’s pushing unreasonable, mysoginsitic views (just let him)

• Can be quite clingy when he wants to be but knows when not to push boundaries (respectful king)

• Little spoon.

• Remembers all the little things like you could just randomly admit one day that you prefer white chocolate over milk or vise versa for example and he’d remember that information till he dies. But he’ll still always forgets big things like the time of soundcheck or what question was asked in an interview.

• He’ll pout his lips in your direction every-time he wants you to kiss him.

• Really bad knock knock jokes.

• Cringy chick flick movies

• Random candid photos

• Wearing his old t-shirts

• DEEP MORNING VOICE HOLY HELL SAVE MY SOUL

• Random I love you texts

• Singing or dancing while cleaning the house

#Harry styles #Harry styles x reader #Headcannons #Harry styles!boyfreind #fanfiction #one shot #one direction

[waywardangel-wilds]

Inspired by this post by @littlemarianah and this post by @mellarked-katnisseverdeen :

Katniss propped up her father’s frameless shaving mirror, watching herself in the setting sunlight as she anxiously rearranged her hair. She brushed her fingers down the front of her dress. It was ironed, clean, and never before mended. It was the nicest piece of clothing she owned. Was it alright? She turned herself to profile in the mirror. Would he like it?

“Birdie, what are you puttering around in there for?” Her father hobbled towards the bathrooms doorway. His bad leg usually gave him a harder time on rainy evenings, like the one they were having. “My,” he paused to smile, “aren’t you a pretty picture?”

She smiled. “Oh daddy, don’t tell me you forgot already.” She reached over to put the mirror away. “You promised you’d be on your best behaviour.”

“For what?” He asked, but his slight smile gave him away. Katniss rolled her eyes while she straightened the collar of his shirt. “I’m just joking, ‘course I didn’t forget. What are you messing with my shirt for? He's not coming to see me!” He laughed.

“This is important to me,” She met her father’s smiling eyes with her own nervous gaze. “I want him to like it here. I want you to like him.”

“We’ll see about that,” he chuckled at his daughter’s stricken expression. “Don’t give me that pout! I just want to know if he’s good enough to be on your arm, is all.”

“Daddy,” Katniss shook her head. She glanced out the window at the sun. He’d be by soon. “I need to finish getting ready!”

“You’re beautiful already, birdie. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” He was laughing as she pushed him out of the bathroom. “Alright! Alright! I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Please don’t let mama say anything embarrassing!” She begged before she shut the door in his face.

“You heard that? Your daughter thinks we’ve no self control,” he snickered into the kitchen where his wife offered him an amused tweak of the brow. “You’d think the boy was the prince of Panem or something.”

“Hm, I think it’s sweet.” His wife replied, lifting the lid of the stew she’d been working on for the better part of the evening. “Young love, remember it?”

“You’re calling me old?” He pulled her into the circle of his arms. “These Everdeen women sure are difficult to impress.”

“Spruce,” she shook her head. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and help me with this food, huh? Your daughter put a lot of work into tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He walked over to their makeshift ice box. “I promise to keep the commentary to a minimum.”

“Mama! If Katniss marries the baker do we get free cakes forever?” Prim little head stuck into the house from where she sat on the front steps. “Cause that’d be really neat!”

“Primrose Everdeen!” She said around a laugh. “Don’t you have to get dressed for dinner?”

“He’s not marrying me,” the girl replied sullenly as she shuffled towards the bedroom.

“No one’s marrying anyone!” Spruce called out. “In fact, what does anyone need boys for?”

“You’re a boy daddy,” Prim replied.

“Now that’s an entirely different thing,” he replied. “I’m your father. That makes me better than the rest.”

“Mmhm,” his wife replied sarcastically. “Taste this?” She placed the spoon before his lips.

“Sour,” he coughed. “What have you been doing over there?”

“Well you could fix it if you know so much,” she handed him the spoon. “I could use a rest, you know. It takes a lot to look like this.” She fluffed her hair.

“Yes, I noticed. You look lovely, dear.” She smacked his shoulder. “I mean it!”

“Uh huh,” she replied.

“Mama! Could I borrow your lipstick?” Katniss’s voice came from the bathroom still. “Is it in your room?”

“Yes, darling.” His wife replied, shooting him an amused look. “In the drawer!”

They didn't hear anything else before they saw her zoom by to the bedroom, her hair trailing behind her like a river of molasses.

“Don’t sprain something now!” He called after her. “This kid better be the best thing since sliced bread. I don’t remember you putting this much work into making me happy.”

“Hush,” his wife tried to peek into the bedroom before the door shut behind their daughter’s back. “She’s nervous enough as it is.”

A thudding noise from beyond the closed door caught their attention. “Hey!” Prim yelled.

“Oh no, now they’re fighting.” She patted his arm. “I’m going in there.”

“You have my thoughts and prayers,” he replied sarcastically. She didn’t spare that a response, but she smiled, so that was a win.

He set about fixing the stew, adding some extra water to try and counteract the excess vinegar. He was cutting up some wild onion when a tentative knock befell the open door.

"Ah, there he is," He glanced towards the doorway with a friendly expression. "The man of the hour."

At the threshold, a shy-looking eighteen-year-old boy peeked halfway into the house. He smiled self-consciously. "Good evening, Mr. Everdeen."

"Mr. Everdeen? That was my father. You’ll call me Spruce. Come in! What are you doing hanging out in the rain?" He waved him over. "Do you know much about cooking?"

"The basics, I think." He shrugged good-naturedly, taking a moment to wipe his feet on the cheerful mat his wife had laid out there ages ago. He walked in strangling some unfortunate daisies. "These are for Katniss."

"We've got a vase somewhere," He ducked to check the cupboard, his back protesting the whole time. "Here we are. One chipped jug, close enough." He smiled over his shoulder. "It's Peeta, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Peeta accepted the old milk jug and went to fill it at the sink. He quirked a brow at that. "Uh, Mr. Spruce, sorry."

"Whatever floats your boat." He accepted, "Is that for us?" He looked at the covered dish in the boy's other hand.

"Yes, of course!" He awkwardly set it down on the counter as his hands were full. Spruce was starting to feel bad for the kid, he'd never seen anyone so nervous. "Katniss loves the bakery's cheese buns so I figured it might be nice to bring some."

"That she does. Do you think she'd mind if I took one?" He asked cheekily, removing the dish's lid.

Peeta smiled. "Maybe a little."

"I think I'll risk it," He took a big bite out of a nice warm bun. He nodded in approval, "This is good."

Peeta's smile widened, "thank you, Mr. Spruce."

"You're here!" They turned towards the sound of his daughter's voice. She stood in the doorway to the bedroom, looking as lovely as she'd been since the day she was born, but this time she had a light touch of lipstick on her cheeks. "You met my dad."

Peeta nodded, "I did." He started blushing. "I-uh, brought you these." He extended the flowers in her direction, which she leaped across the room to accept. "You look beautiful."

Katniss glanced over her shoulder self-consciously. Spruce averted his eyes to give her some privacy. "Thank you," she said with a voice as sweet as honey. "You look nice too."

Peeta's face took on a love-dazed look and Spruce shook his head. Oh man, that's why his mother had constantly made fun of him back in the day.

He turned his back on the kids. Might as well spare them the extra embarrassment. "We're having a big dinner tonight. Katniss caught all this game all by herself." He returned to the stew, "Right, birdie?"

"Yep," the awkwardness seemed to be a common denominator. "You brought me cheese buns?"

"Yeah, I know how much you like them," Peeta replied with an awkward little chuckle.

"Thank you, I do-- like them, I mean. Yeah." Katniss spoke haltingly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Oh!” His wife finally made it out of the bedroom. “Prim, come say hello!" She called back into the bedroom. "Peeta! How are you? Did the rain give you a hard time?"

"No, no, not at all, I'm great" Peeta replied. "Thank you for inviting me over tonight. You have a lovely home, Mrs. Everdeen."

"Thank you, and it's no trouble at all. We've been curious about you." She walked towards the table with Prim following close behind, a curious look to her. "And please, you don't have to call me that, Lily is fine."

"Lily," Peeta repeated with a smile.

"So since you're the baker and all, do we get freebies when you marry my sister?" Prim challenged.

"Prim!" Katniss chastised. “You don’t have to answer that. We’re not even engaged Prim.”

"And I'm not the baker. I just work there." Peeta answered with an amused smile. "My dad's the baker but I can still make you anything you'd like."

"You don't have to," Katniss said.

"Great! My birthday's coming up." Prim went on shamelessly. She pulled out one of the dining chairs and sat down. "Could you make it a heart-shaped cake? Oh! And cover it in pink frosting?"

Lily put a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, meanwhile, Katniss looked mortified. Spruce tsked, joining his youngest daughter at the table. “Don’t scare him off, you’ll cost us our in at the bakery!”

“Daddy,” Katniss complained. She picked up her boyfriend’s hand and tugged him towards the table. “They’re just joking. They do that a lot.”

“I really wouldn’t mind making it though,” Peeta smiled gregariously. “It’s not every day you get an order for a pink and heart-shaped cake. It sounds like fun.”

“In that case, could it be tiered too?” Prim interjected.

“That’s enough, Prim. Don’t disrespect.” Lily said. To Peeta she added, “has Katniss offered you something to drink?”

“Oh wow, I’m sorry I forgot. Do you want some water?” Katniss smiled her embarrassment.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Peeta and her seemed to have some sort of secret conversation which resulted in Katniss laughing.

“Should we eat?” Spruce stood. “I can serve the stew.”

“I’ll get the bowls,” Lily readily added. Once they were a sufficiently far away from the children she stage-whispered, “what do you think?”

“I think we’ve got ourselves a problem.”

“A problem? What do you mean? He seems perfectly nice to me.”

“No, he is. Problem is we’re gonna lose our kid.” He peaked over his shoulder. The kids were all seated at the table and having a normal conversation. “This looks permanent.”

Lily’s face grew sentimental. “We weren’t that much older when we got married.” She bit her lip. “ironic, huh?”

“How’d you mean?”

“You and me, town and seam. I chose the coal miner over the baker. Now, our daughter and her boyfriend, still town and seam, but she’s choosing the baker. It’s almost by design.”

“You’re reading too much into it,” he said. “What we should be worried about is how this affects me and the actual baker. First his girl and now his son? I can't go back there.”

“Spruce,” Lily laughed. "You and your jokes. Would it kill you to take this seriously?"

"Yes, it would." He grinned shamelessly. "But you knew that when you married me."

"You're terrible." She handed him a bowl. "Hurry up."

"So demanding," he shook his head. "This is cripple abuse."

"Cripple," Lily snorted.

"Thank you," Peeta smiled winningly as Lily deposited his bowl in front of him.

"So Peeta," Spruce interlaced his fingers. Time to look serious. "If you're not going to be the baker, what will you do? I'm assuming one of your brothers is the next baker, right?"

"Dad," Katniss complained.

"It's an important question." Spruce leaned forward slightly on his forearms. "Peeta?"

"That's right, Mr., Uh, Spruce, I'm not the next baker." Peeta managed to maintain eye contact with him. Good. "I'm apprenticing at the justice building for the rest of the year. My mother's side of the family has connections there."

"Interesting. What will you be doing?" Spruce cocked his head. "It pays?"

"Dad," Katniss groaned. "You know I'm sitting right here right?"

He put up a placating hand, "Peeta?"

"It pays," the boy nodded. "It should be enough, for um, multiple people." He blushed then.

"Please, I could probably provide enough for all of us." Katniss rolled her eyes and muttered. "Talking about me like a goat up for auction."

Spruce stared hard at them both for a long moment. Peeta looked like he was sweating. Katniss looked like she wanted him to keel over. He nodded. "Alright."

"Alright?" Katniss asked derisively.

"I'm giving you my blessing, birdie. Don't spend it all in one place." He smiled as Katniss gave in and softened. "That's my girl."

Part 2

#i don't know what else to add #if you have any ideas let me know and ill add another part #the hunger games #everlark #thg #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #fanfic

[yoonivy]

my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 5.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.

When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.

And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.

warnings. angst!!! uh... major character (for this fic anyway) death ahead... you've been warned... 01| 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

---

The people are calling it the Dance of the Dragons. 

A pretty song-like title for a tale that they will tell in future years to come of the triumph of the one who had sat victorious on the throne made of a thousand swords, the imagery of falling flying beasts, and the rise and fall of two families who share the same name. 

The winners will be lionized as heroes. They will have songs written about them and their pictures in the history books will be one of them looking tall and gallant. People will say their victory was selfless — all for the good of the realm and its people, and not for anything else. 

The losing side will be the villains and the cravens who gave up everything they had – their dignity, their moral compass, the ones they care about the most, and their lives. When people speak of their name, it will be said like it is a curse and as if they taste trash on their tongue. Or perhaps worse — there will be some who will not be remembered at all. 

But in reality, despite its pretty song-like title, this “Dance of the Dragons” is a brutal and cruel civil war that has already taken the lives of many and forever changed the trajectory of others. 

Aemond Targaryen thinks about his younger brother, Prince Daeron, no longer the young, carefree man with the easy-going smile for he has hardened by the horrors he has seen and caused himself, and for the dark liquor he drinks to forget it all.

He thinks about his sister, Queen Helaena, stuck in the prison of her bedchamber under her own volition; refusing to eat and sleep, over encumbered with grief and depression due to witnessing the brutal murder of her oldest son. Forever haunted by the fact that when the assassins gave the false illusion of choice to choose between which of her children to die, she had said her youngest’s name instead.

He thinks about his mother, the Dowager Queen Alicent, who has seen the suffering her beloved children have been going through this past year and a half and weeps on their behalf every single night. Who tells Aemond that she is proud of him, and yet still cannot look him in the eye. 

Then, Prince Aemond thinks about himself, and the crown he wears now, as Prince Regent for his older brother, King Aegon, who is bedridden and unfit to rule with his severe injuries and burns due to the battle at Rook’s Rest, where they — Aemond, himself, and Aegon — took the lives of their aunt, Princess Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was and her dragon, Meleys. And though it is his older brother who bears the same name as their Targaryen ancestor who first sat on the Iron Throne as King and thus beginning the Targaryen dynasty in the Seven Kingdoms, Aemond thinks it is on his head that Aegon the Conqueror’s crown fits better. 

But he can’t— no, Aemond won’t think about the little cub so far from her forested island to inhabit the hollow and cold halls of Harrenhal. 

Though it seems that the Sevens are not the most benevolent of Gods; and when they give Aemond something that he wants, they always have a habit of taking something away. 

This time in exchange for the crown, they want his already crumbling peace of mind. 

“Harrenhal has been conquered,” Ser Criston announces as he storms furiously inside the pitched tent that Aemond and Daeron are using as a war council room at their base camp just by the southwest border of the Reach. “That filthy whore fucker captured it with his dragon and army.”

Daeron shrugs, kicking his feet up on the war table as he indulges on another gulp of wine. “Well, after tonight, we take full control of the whole Reach so who really cares about Harrenhal. Our dear uncle can have that cursed castle.”   

Clearly he is already in his cups and not thinking clearly if he thinks what he said has any sense to it. 

Aemond scowls at his youngest brother, pushing his feet off the table so suddenly that Daeron almost falls off the chair if he had not managed to catch his balance at the last second. Aemond then braces his hands on the edge of the table, glaring first at his brother then turning to the map laid out in front of him. “We’re not letting Daemon have anything, especially not Harrenhal — not when the Tullys, the Freys, and the Arryns are also for the Blacks.”

Daeron stands now and looks over the map with the Prince Regent, sighing when he realizes Aemond is right. If the Blacks get a hold of a Harrenhal as well, they can kiss goodbye to their already a sliver of an opportunity to invade the North. 

“How did Daemon manage to take hold of Harrenhal so quickly?” Aemond asks Ser Criston, looking wildly incredulous. It was only a few weeks ago that they got word from the castellan, Ser Simon Strong, that they have enough troops in Harrenhal to rally towards the other Riverlands Houses who supported Rhaenyra. “Was it really an incredible feat or are the Strongs as traitorous as they are in the penchant for producing lowly bastards?” 

The Lord Commander of the King’s Guard — and also now, the Hand of the King after King Aegon deemed his grandfather, Otto Hightower, unfit to guide him — shakes his head, unsure. “I would not put it past them, your Grace… With Harwin who sired three of that whore Queen’s sons, and the Clubfoot — fuck, that guy gives me the creeps…” Ser Criston shivers, thinking of Larys Strong, the master of whisperers. 

Aemond lets out a hmm in agreement. He never trusted Larys, and the way the man leered at his mother disturbed the prince and made his blood boil with rage.

“So I say we take no chances and just be done with the whole House,” the Lord Commander advises.

Aemond hums again, this time in contemplation at his suggestion. Ser Criston has a point. House Strong’s so-called loyalty to their side has not been beneficial to their cause in any way – the only thing they’ve truly given is their hold on Harrenhal, and now they don’t even have that. 

“Wait…” Daeron frowns, deep in thought. “Are you saying we should execute the Strongs?”

Ser Criston grins maniacally at the youngest prince. “Every. Single. Last. One. Of those traitorous fucks.”

Daeron finds himself grinning back, suddenly bloodthirsty. Although unfortunate, Lucerys’ death was all in all an accident. But the retaliation from Daemon – hiring two assassins to savagely murder Daeron’s nephew in front of his two younger siblings and their mother, Queen Helaena – was anything but an accident. It was a cruel act, made to break the Greens. Helaena has never been the same since that night, and Daeron is not sure if he is either. 

And if the Strongs are secretly aiding Daemon behind their backs, then they deserve to rot through all Seven Hells.

Despite his dark thoughts, Daeron casts his glance sideways at Aemond and cheekily says, “What say you, brother? Honestly… I’m all up for it!”

With his eye trained on where Harrenhal lays on the map, Aemond sucks in a short intake of air. 

Executing each and every member of the Strong family? But that also means…

There are two voices warring in his head, both loud and overbearing.

(You can’t. She’s there. And as much as you loathe it, she has taken the Strong name now as her own.)

And –

(Why does it matter? She abandoned you first. And if she chose to lay with traitorous men, then she shall lie in that bed and take it.)

Aemond shakes both the thoughts away, nostrils flaring as he takes another sharp breath before he looks from his brother to Ser Criston as he tells them his final plan, “Tomorrow, we’ll start our march for Harrenhal. If the Strongs aren’t already dead by the time we recapture the castle, then we’ll see which punishment fits. If it’s certain they betrayed us then I have no problem eradicating the Strong bloodline, for none of the Strongs hold any importance to anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms…” The words taste all kinds of wrong in his mouth and there are voices in his head telling him to take it back. But he shuts them out, stomps on their attempt to make him the villain in the story.

“But for tonight, let us focus on capturing Horn Hill.”

Daeron chugs back the rest of his drink, then tips the cup towards Aemond with a wine-stained smirk. “Then let’s get to it.”

---

When it comes to the battlefield, Daeron is a formidable force despite the three goblets of wine he had earlier – hence why he had been dubbed Ser Daeron the Daring. 

The Daring Prince slashes through the Tarly soldiers and villagers of Horn Hill as if they are merely practice dummies. The Prince Regent follows behind him, hacking down men from the opposing side left and right in his wake as well.

The little Horn Hill village they are in just a few ways away from the castle where the Tarlys sit is already in a chaos of their doing. Homes demolished and the screams of villagers loud in every direction. Above them, Vhagar and Daeron’s blue she-dragon, Tessarion, circle the night sky – burning down their flames wherever they see fit.

Aemond has grown used to these sights and sounds — many different villages, many different people, so many lives and livelihoods destroyed in a single day – so is it callous to say it does not even phase him anymore? 

At least he can say that he finds no joy in it – unlike his younger brother whose laughter grows more wicked with each body that falls limp on the ground as if they were nothing at all.

“It’s nice fighting alongside of you again, brother,” Daeron grins over his shoulder at Aemond as he pulls his bloody sword out of a man wearing the Tarly colors of olive green and red. “I wish I could have been there at Rook’s Rest with you and Aegon.”

“I don’t,” Aemond bites out, snarling when the man he is facing manages to parry his attack. But Aemond is quick to elbow him, causing the man to stagger back, and that is when Aemond drives his blade into his chest without mercy. Once the man falls, Aemond turns to Daeron to finish what he wanted to say, “I don’t need another incapacitated brother.”

Daeron sniffs, pretending to wipe away a tear with his finger. “So you do love me.”

Head shaking in disbelief, Aemond rolls his eye. Then he grabs Daeron on the nape of his neck, affectionately — like he used to do when they were younger. But this time, instead of the two of them laughing as they follow behind a miserable Aegon leave a feast overstuffed with a tummy ache, Aemond is now leading his younger brother through a battlefield that could lead to his death in any given second. 

“Come on,” he smirks at Daeron, before turning to where he sees Ser Criston ahead of them. “They’re advancing to the castle.”

With a determined nod, Daeron slaps the Prince Regent’s shoulder blade. An unspoken promise that he has his back.

Aemond is suddenly blinking back unshed tears. Him and Daeron have never been close – with Daeron’s distance when he was sent to Oldtown at age 12, it was impossible to be — but this war definitely brought them closer. Same with Aegon. It is true that Aemond still hates his older brother’s character and what he chooses to stand for in many ways, but he cannot deny the bond that formed between them when they fought and won so many battles side by side. Then with the tragedy that befell Helaena, Aemond became more fiercely loyal and protective of all his kin.

They may not be the most picture perfect set of siblings, and yet, his family… They are the only precious thing left in this world that he has. 

It is hard to explain fully. Maybe it is just the Targaryen way.

Together, Aemond and Daeron round a corner on the path leading to the castle, and that is when a poor, unfortunate soul bumps squarely against Daeron in his rush. But when Daeron grabs him – an arm around the man’s throat – it is Aemond’s gaze the man’s terrified and bewildered eyes finds. 

“Ae…” The man breathes out, a light of hopefulness softening his once distressed feature. Aemond stares at him wide-eyed, shocked and at a standstill. This can’t be real, right? It is just his mind playing tricks on him. It has to be. 

Daeron then presses the sharp edge of his sword against the man’s throat and he is once again in a panic, begging now, “Ae, please… I have a–”

“You know him, brother?” Daeron cuts him off, clearly confused as his sword starts to cut shallowly enough for blood to seep from the man’s throat. The man’s face started to crumble, silent tears streaking down his cheeks, petrified beyond belief. That look on his face, Aemond thinks as starts to breathe shallowly, that expression. Aemond can so clearly see it on someone else— 

The two youngest bear cubs did have the most similarities – even more so than the twins.

“No,” Aemond says in finality, face blank and impassive. He begins to walk past the man and his brother, without as much as a single glance. “Do as you will, Daeron.”

“With pleasure,” was the last thing Aemond sees Daeron say with that crazed smirk on his face. Behind his back, he hears Daeron state venomously with a spit afterwards, “You think you can just call him ‘Ae’? That’s the Prince Regent, you scum.”

Aemond freezes suddenly when it dawns on him what he had just done.

Wait, he thinks in a panic. Wait…!

But when he turns back around in an attempt to stop his brother, it is already too late.

There is blood. 

Blood everywhere.

Perhaps the most blood Aemond has ever seen in his life. It stains his hand, and yet, he is not even close enough for it to. But he is drenched in it. His shame is drowning in it. 

Though it is Daeron who slashed open his throat; Aemond feels as if he is one who held the sword, forcing his little brother to do it.

You did this! The voices in his head weep. This is your fault!

Daeron pushes the lifeless body down into the dirt, carelessly and with a shrug. There is blood on Daeron’s face, it is on his mouth like his wine. And when he beams at Aemond, the older Targaryen Prince cannot help but wonder if he tastes her blood on his tongue. For it is the same one that runs through her veins. 

“Shall we?” Daeron asks, cocking his head towards the castle. So nonchalant, like he had not just taken the life of—

Aemond stares at the body on the ground, still shellshocked. 

Daeron wraps his arm around Aemond’s neck, laughing joyously in his older brother’s ear as he drags him towards their destination. “Come on. We have a castle to ransack.”

---

With most of their men dead beyond the castle walls, it did not take long for Lord Alan Tarly, the Lord of Horn Hill, to surrender to Prince Regent Aemond once they breach the front gates. 

The Greens celebrate their victory in the grand hall of the castle, the scent of fresh blood still in the air. Daeron is still covered in it — covered in his — that Aemond finds his stomach turning unpleasantly whenever Daeron gets too near him. And so when both Daeron and Ser Criston tease Aemond to stop looking so surly and glum when they have won, Aemond shrugs off Daeron’s arm around his shoulder and stands up stiffly, announcing he needs air.

So Aemond walks and walks and walks. He knows where his feet are taking him to — to whom his feet are taking him to — and every step he takes he dreads. Yet, he cannot seem to stop himself. 

The village is eerily quiet when he reaches it at the bottom of the hill. There are villagers still alive, but they must be cowering in fear inside their homes, trying not to make a sound. 

He is close to the corner of the path where it happened, he knows it. 

He is ready, he thinks, he is ready to see again the irreparable damage he has caused.

But when the lump on the ground comes into his view, he almost hurls out the dinner he barely ate.  

There are soldiers from the Greens side milling around, collecting their fallen companions. Aemond grabs for one wearing Hightower colors.

“Bring me a shovel,” Aemond demands through clenched teeth, and the soldier is quick to say ‘yes, Your Grace’ as he rushes to do as he was told.  

As Aemond stumbles closer, he notices that another body lies on top of the one he had left earlier. A beautiful woman with bright copper hair holds onto the man underneath her, the back of her light yellow dress pooled with red.

So, you got the girl afterall, huh, Jorah? Aemond thinks sadly.

And as dreadful as it is, they oddly look at peace...

Aemond almost laughs out loud, because that can't be right. It was probably just his mind trying to make this into some sort of tragic love story to make himself feel better.

While he stares at Jorah Mormont, Aemond begins to think about their shared interest in history and philosophy. How they would talk Jorah’s younger sister’s ear off until she pressed her hands over ears to hear no more, and then they both would attack her with tickles until she was laughing and crying at the same time. 

Aemond cannot help but smile at the memory — his heart suddenly hurting while he does, in disbelief at what he has done. And when the tears begin falling, he chokes back the sobs by biting down on his wrist. 

While he mourns them in this fucked up way of his, that is when he notices two things.

One, Jorah did not have a weapon with him. Perhaps maybe if he had something to defend himself… Aemond shakes his head bitterly. No, that would have not done anything. Jorah was not a fighter like Forrest or Braeden; even if he did have a sword with him, he would not have stood a chance to defeat Daeron.

And two, the bear patch on Jorah’s leather jerkin. A work of embroidery that Aemond has not seen for a long time, but he knows who exactly made it just by the fine detailing alone. He bends down, unsheathing the small dagger from his belt and begins to cut it off. 

As a prize? A remembrance?  

He does not know why, but he just wants to… Take it. 

After shoving it into his pocket, he glances over at Renee just as he hears someone approaching behind him – the soldier, letting him know he has a shovel for him.

Aemond nods back minutely. Then he takes a hold of Renee’s body, turning her over —

But what he sees cradled in her arm has him backing away in shock.

Aemond turns away from the sight and keels over on his knees, finally emptying his stomach like he had wanted to all night.

#hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond #aemond targaryen

[mitsua]

My last seven minutes with you

Mini context: After death, human brain lives for 7 minutes to replay its best memories. SOOOO HOW COULD I LET THIS OPPORTUNITY FOR ANGST GO AWAY??!!!

Warnings: mentions of reader dying Series: — 𝑂𝑏𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑒! - 𝑆𝑊𝐷?!

Pairing: brothers × MC Words count: 652

MC'S . . . GN! Genre: angst

The first minute was spent thinking about those nights you'd wake up feeling heavy, after looking down and finally coming to your senses, you'd notice Belphegor's body on top of yours. Resting happily and so comfortably you'd feel bad about waking him, so you'd endure the difficulties of breathing to spend more time with him.

You'd also remember how he'd come up to you, pouting cutely after school has ended as a sign to go nap with him.

The second minute leads to one time you craved something in the middle of the night but couldn't put your finger as to what exactly; only after you've encountered Beelzebub munching some left overs at the refrigerator. He asked you why were you up so late, to what you answered honestly. Not even ten seconds passed before Beelzebub offered you a tray of food.

Those times you'd go to different restaurants to taste the new flavors added on their menu each time also helped to warm a tiny bit, your slowly-going cold, heart.

The third minute comes and your brain goes to shopping days with Asmodeous, days where you could discover new sides of him, he'd open up little by little about some insecurities of his; but never forgot about your main purpose-refill your closet! Sometimes you may have or may have not used Lucifer's card in order to achieve it...

There was also his constant flirting and teasing that never failed to make your knees go weak and butterflies made a party in your stomach.

The fourth minute shows a mixed of times where you'd comfort Satan when you're first trying to get him out of his anger issues towards himself, and times where you were reading together, either in silence or not, both of you had smiles on your faces.

Going out after finishing study sessions or homework in general to feed the stray cats had become a habit, you even got to know each and every cats' name!

The fifth minute conducted your mind in a state of relaxation, bright colors blinded your eyes for a few moments, while you adjusted to it, you heard a familiar voice making happy and loud noises such unlikely of him. Nevertheless, Leviathan couldn't be happier of you two winning the game's end after hours of hard work.

Sometimes you'd have to rescue him from his brothers' bickering as you already knew how he felt about himself, you'd accompany him until the end.

The sixth minute took you to a scene where you felt your face contort into one of concern. Mammon was strung up from the ceiling again. On those occassions, even if he begged you to free him, as you knew his older brother was keeping a sharp eye on him, knowing better than oblige, you'd opt to strike up conversations to spend time with him.

To make him forget all those bad thoughts he'd get from time to time and continue being his loud but courageous and cute self.

The seventh, and for what's to mention; last minute. You had already stopped feeling your physical body at all, only feeling a couple of stungs here and there, but as the memories flowed, there was no pain.

There was no pain as Lucifer came to your mind. How difficult it was to gain his trust being the first impactful memory you thought about. From then on, you'd get flashes of various memories such as the times you'd have quiet and relaxing music sessions in his office or attend to packed with good-looking demons, restaurants only for you to be the only one receiving his compliments, even when he was pride's embodiment.

As you felt a last stung on your heart, your last breath was heard by those who filled your heart with warmth for the time you've met them and your last memories, to leave them resting with a smile on your features.

𝚆𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢: Mitsua © (𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜) my navigation

#mitsua #mitsuawrites #mitsuawritings #obey me #x reader #headcanons #hcs #shall we date obey me #obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me boys #obey me angst #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me headcanons #obey me levi #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me poly mc #obey me scenarios #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me satan #obey me swd #obey me asmo #angst #lucifer angst

[theastrical]

a heritage

a short drabble; where zhongli kept on seeing the same you all over again in all of your different lifetimes; in the same exact moment you forget his existence. Hence, he keep all of your favorite stuff..in order for him not to forget a single part of your past lives with him.

zhongli x reader

“It’s not like you would remember me..” , he said that nonchalantly. His palm delicately folding yours. Making sure it felt secure and comfortable, at least for him, it felt like warming up a cold blanket; comfortable yet…exhausting.

he looks at you…his smile hasn’t appeared and you don’t know when will it ever appear again.

“then at least, take what’s left from me.”

“i have done so ever since your 2nd life begun and it didn’t help you recover your memory from those lives you’ve been through…it’s useless.”

“but you still keep it and that speaks volumes. You’re a hypocrite..” you laugh quietly, wanting to make him at least hate you or even get mad at you. Just a hint of emotion is what you crave for.

“because you took so long.” he whispers, his head has dropped onto the floor, like he was defeated from a certain question. “and i miss you.” The end of his words stung that same spot on your heart. emotion is a weakness that zhongli can easily point out from you…yet it’s also the same strength you have that he lacks off.

either because him reflecting his emotion means that he become human overtime or…

his figure tremble slightly and suddenly a sudden cough was heard before he confesses..“I’m sorry…even in your 13th life, i’m still crying over your mortality. I’m so stupid for loving you…it’s addicting to be involved in pain.”

oh my zhongli, whatever happened to your eyes? It has never been this warm…

or has it? no…i don’t know. I will never know.

“I’m relieving history again and somehow..it feels so good…” he say that before crying even further. His tears are running down like a waterfall. Yet he doesn’t even squints his eyes or have that trembling mouth curve. He’s tired of crying. He’s tired of me.

he gently takes off your ring…

“even gods hate to see death, you know?”

he kisses the back of your palm. “I can feel you losing your own self now…”

he kisses your fingertips. “then just…rest, i’ll wait again.”

“you’ve grown old, you’ve lived off towards good and bad moments…you’ve done what you could to stay with me in this life.”

“someday, i’ll find you again. And i’ll make sure, you remember me before you die. Just like this time…that time…and the next.”

you smile, your eyes puffy from his words. You wishes more but…80 years? That’s basically 8 seconds for him but 500 years for you. But That’s okay. That will always be okay. Because you know, death will be painless, death will come and go just like when his lips taste yours for the very last time.

“goodnight zhongli.”

and there’s your ring…between your favorite items beside his collection of your favorite stuffs in your past life.

ring…flower petals…piece of cloth…and…just a picture of you and him.

“for zhongli, don’t forget me!”

because soon, his duty is to remind you of him…and to make sure, his immortality is spent for you, and only you.

taglist: @esthelily @indarius @n0tamused @sangoqueenkoko @voidlesslove @lyralibra @eroxotckv @rikasurl @dailypenpen @daydreaming-paradies

#zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #zhongli x reader angst #zhongli genshin impact #zhongli #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #morax x reader #morax x y/n #zhongli x y/n #genshin impact

[percyaugod]

Unnamed Rise AU Part 2: Eternal Prison

Edit: It has now been named The Prisoner and the Pretender AU. : D

Leo was bored asking how long has he been stuck there anyway. The technodrome says forty-three seconds. Leo is unamused and gives a flat "Ha Ha. No really."

The technodrome doesn't say anything and Leo is left reeling. "What, how!?"

"Time dilation. Time moves faster here than back in your dimension. If it makes you feel any better you aren't aging. This place was designed to be an eternal prison. Not very eternal if the Krang die of old age."

Leo crossed his arms muttering bitterly about how well that worked out.

The technodrome holds Donnie above all others, and it is partially because of being connected, but it's mostly because Donnie is just Donnie. Donnie is the first to look at the technodrome and see something truly amazing. It holds him in such high regard because he holds it so high. Which is why it doesn't want to disappoint him and lose that.

Not to mention how much of himself he was willing to give to it so it could think for itself for the first time. No more just sitting around waiting for commands. Being used like a tool by those that don't appreciate it, don't deserve it.

Leo keeps the technodrome talking so he can hear his brother's voice, though he'd never admit it to even himself. He's just gathering data, nothing else. Yet he's probably just doing stuff to aggravate the technodrome like messing with the stuff it uses to make nutrients so Leo doesn't wither away.

It tastes awful, he's just trying to make it pizza-flavoured. Or preferably anything other than what he imagines Dad's chair tastes like. He knows chemistry, he can do this!

The technodrome begs to differ. He knows Earth chemistry. These chemicals are literally alien to him.

The technodrome keeps moving so it's harder for Krang One to find them. Which is extra difficult while trying to look like just a piece of nonfunctional rubble floating there.

Leo would definitely try to sneak outside. If nothing else he's bored and wouldn't completely trust the Krang spaceship. He still hasn't decided whether it sounding and acting like Donnie is worse or better. At least it'll be harder to forget the egghead.

The technodrome only lets him out to get supplies because even broken it's still far too big to enter. Supplies are hard to come by though, and who knows how long Leo will be in here until his brothers can save him. It keeps watch of all exits in case he tries something.

Leo is definitely curious about the technodrome, especially its connection to Donnie. How exactly did it get a copy of his brother on its systems, and what is it going to do to the original?

He wouldn't just ask it directly though. Donnie can't lie, but who knows about the technodrome. He asked in roundabout ways about other tech and functions to gather more info before making his way slowly to how piloting it works.

Leo tells stories to the technodrome who listens since at least he isn't trying anything. It's when he tries to exaggerate something and the technodrome corrects him that he realizes the technodrome remembers this stuff too because Donnie remembered it. So now Leo has the technodrome tell him stories to help him remember. It's odd hearing some of the same events but from Donnie's point of view.

Leo has a lot of trouble sleeping, especially in a prison dimension. He says something completely wrong and falls asleep to a "Donnie" rant.

Leo asks the technodrome what it knows about neuroscience since it could help him take care of his brothers in the future as team medic (you can rip medic Leo out of my cold dead hands) and he's pretty sure the ship mentioned tapping into someone's brain or nerves to receive instructions.

He's really going to have to look Donnie over when he gets back because that can't be good.

The technodrome constantly brings up Leo having the portal closed on it. Is this what Draxum feels like dealing with him? Good.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt au #rise leo #rottmnt technodrome #rise donnie #Ish #Unnamed rise au #The prisoner and the pretender AU

[karmicgalaxies]

NSFW Alphabet — Morph

18+ Content MDNI!

Morph (Aka Kevin Sydney) X Reader

Disclaimers: This is just what I think for the sake of fun and whimsy! Implied unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!), mentions of a Threesome, Riding, Face-fucking, Face-sitting, Vibrators, Light Bondage, Body Worship, Blindfolds & Squirting. Poorly proofread, excuse any errors!

Reader referred to in a gender neutral sense, AFAB reader pictured when writing, however genitals aren’t specified!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Teasing and being a cheeky little shit aside, Morph is an absolute sweetheart. They already see sex as something highly intimate. A dance of not just passion and lust, but an act of trust with their partner’s body, and them with theirs. That being said, aftercare is a big deal to them.

No matter the intensity of the session, they’ll always make sure that you’re okay, always helping clean up the mess the two of you made, and give you some kisses paired with soft caress. And, who could forget the teasing about the sounds that escaped your pretty lips for them during the act? Even laid up together basking in the afterglow of your passions, you never know true peace. But, you’re more than okay with that.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

When It comes to their partner, Morph’s favorite body part would definitely have to be your hips. They’re just so grabable. They’re easy to wrap an arm or two around, grip onto while they grind themselves onto your ass from behind when you don’t expect it, and damn are they good handles for when you ride their cock. They just love the look of them and how easy it makes it to handle you.

Morph themself have some insecurities. They’ll transform into their more human looking form to try and appease you as they think that’d be what you want. However upon your further insistence of loving them and being attracted and aroused by them as they are in their true form, they learn to come to appreciate themselves a helluva lot more. Though they’d definitely say their face. It’s a perfect seat, nuff said.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Morph LOVES to watch you cum, seeing the mess that you make just turns them on tenfold, making their cock absolutely throb at the sight. Especially if you make a mess on them or in their mouth. They’ll lap that mess right up and come up to kiss you, just so you can taste yourself on their tongue.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

They constantly fantasize about a threesome between you and Logan. They wonder what it’d be like, though for that’d be wistful thinking for it to come to fruition. For now, it’s masturbation material to give that extra edge. ;)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Morph isn’t the most experienced person if you’d compare them to someone like Scott or Logan, but they’ve garnered enough experience to know what they’re doing, and they never fall short of leaving you properly pleasured.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything that allows Morph a good look at your face, they simply adore. Being able to maintain eye contact, as well as having opportunities to kiss you absolutely senseless as their cock drives into you in one way or another is just absolute bliss. Not to mention the opportunity for teasing. Watching your face contort as you get fucked and seeing those pretty eyes roll back into your head give them absolute ammunition to tease you about it through and through. Some of the things they say are absolute filth, though it only betters the experience as they get to see your face react to their comments of your obscenely lewd sounds or their mention of how pathetic you sound.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As serious and passionate as sex can be at times, Morph is pretty humorous throughout, their personality does not hesitate one bit to shine through. Best believe they’ll still crack their wise muses, making smart comment after smart comment. all in all, the occasional laughs will be had. Makes every experience more memorable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Given the fact that Morph lacks eyebrows and hair atop their head, it’d be a safe, yet correct assumption that they have an overall lack of body hair. However in their human form, they have a little happy trail.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

They are very passionate during sex. Wether it be soft love making, or rough fucking, the passion is almost overwhelming. Amongst the eye contact, they’re muttering out praises for you, telling you how good you feel, how much of a good job you’re doing. Dependent on what type of session is going on, they can be sweeter or a bit more vulgar depending.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Usually, Morph is pretty good at maintaining their composure, though it can only be helped so much when you’re gone for an extended period of time. If they’re real desperate, they might just turn into you as they masturbate. Just so that they can imagine they’re getting a feel of you even though you aren’t present.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. They live for your approval, being told their doing a good job, that they feel good, etc. They’re into face sitting and face fucking, as well as some light bondage and blindfold use. Morph enjoys occasionally having you to their mercy, makes things quite interesting and fun for you both! Also, body worship.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The real question is where wouldn’t they wanna fuck you? Though traditionally, Morph’s favorite places are in the bedroom and the showers. (wink wink nudge nudge) They offer an intimate setting that include just the two of you, though they would be lying to themselves if they haven’t pictured taking you in other places of the mansion.. They’ll definitely have to talk to you about that.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dirty talk and suggestive banter. Morph is chalk full of jokes and no doubt they make some suggestive comments here or there. When that teasing energy is reciprocated, it never fails to get them all worked up, hot and bothered with those words of scandalous promise falling from that pretty mouth that they’re totally not envisioning their cock stuffed inside of while you’re on your knees.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that plays with the bounds of consent or the possibility of bringing extreme pain or unsavory circumstance upon either you or them. Morph’s not a fan of anything that causes a threat to your security or comfort. They don’t get off on pain, wether it be feeling it or dealing it out. (Unless it’s a nice firm tap on your ass) If you’re gonna fuck, they want to make sure they have your consent, and to ensure you’re in good hands. No if’s and’s or but’s!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Morph’s an even mix of loving to give as well as receive, But oh what fun it is to see you absolutely crumble under the ministrations of his mouth and tongue. They’re pretty good at giving head, it doesn’t take a genius to know their way around. Though even then, Morph takes the extra mile to be a very attentive lover. Oral sex can be a delicate ordeal, so they find themselves paying attention to what makes you react in all the right ways. Finding out what are your sensitive spots, and knowing just how to work that mouth to get your back arching and toes curling in absolutely ecstasy. They’re a generous partner all throughout.

But oh how they love to receive as well. A warm mouth just wrapping itself around their cock, leaving them a mess of moans and whines, resisting the temptation to just buck their hips and just fuck the ever loving shit out of your face.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

They can be a mix of both, depending on the occasion! If it’s a more sensual love making night, they’ll settle for slow and sensual. However if it’s more of a passionate fuck, then the fast and rough will be more prominent. Though their pace ultimately is determined by what you beg him for! Less, their being a tease and Morph’s thrusts are achingly slow.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Absolutely! Despite loving the long drawn out sessions, They’ll never pass up on a quickie, taking you in a secluded corner or place. The risk factor of it all adding to the thrill and overall arousal. They’re not common, but when they do happen, they’re worth the while!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Morph isn’t too big on big risks, though despite quickies, they aren’t opposed to getting a bit…frisky. They can get pretty touchy feely, even being as bold to slide a hand down your pants if the occasion allows.

They’re also open to experimentation in the bedroom, so long it’s something the two of you agree can be pleasurable to you both, They’re more than willing to try out any positions, kinks, and ideas!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Their stamina is pretty average, it isn’t anything super humanly excessive, however they can go for quite a few rounds, longer with adequate breaks. In terms of how long they can last, they’ve got pretty good endurance of a few minutes, though that can decrease if Morph is being reduced to an absolute mess.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They definitely own one or two vibrators. Mostly with intent on using them on you, however they sure won’t be opposed to having them used on themself!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

One of the biggest teases on the goddamn planet. Leaving lingering touches everywhere except for where you really need them, slowing down a pace if they feel like being cocky. Hell, Morph will even tease with their words, adding further insult to injury at a denial of the pleasures you so seek.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

They are NOT quiet by any stretch of the woods. Chances are, Morph is whining and moaning right along with you. They are very vocal, and don’t shy away from that fact. They are a whiny little bitch, god forbid if you ride them, their soul is just snatched up at that point. If they feel good, you will know.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

They absolutely love when they make you squirt. (If applicable) It’s such an addicting sight and feel, they can’t get enough of it. They’re hard as a goddamn diamond at the sight of you soaking the sheets, the floor beneath you, through your intimates and your bottoms, etc. they just love to see and feel it. As well as occasionally have a taste of it. (This is more of a thing for AFAB readers but I really do think they’d have a thing for their partner squirting, I just feel it in my nuggets man-)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

They’re about average size more or less! 5.5 to 6 inches long, and a comfortable girth, perfect size. Their cock is long enough to please, and thick enough to stretch you and make you cum. No leaving you dissatisfied that’s for sure!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Morph’s sex drive isn’t anything crazy, something else that’s pretty average. Though it’s pretty easy to deliberately rile them up and get them extremely hot and bothered . Continue at your discretion ;)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Morph doesn’t let themself fall asleep until they know you’ve been cleaned up and cared for properly after sex. Though even then, they’ll stay up with you, embrace you as they listen to you speak about whatever your heart desires. Though if you want to sleep, they’re fine with that too, and will follow suit.

#x men smut #x men #marvel #marvel smut #smutty alphabet #x-men #x-men 97 #x men 97 smut #xmen morph #morph #morph x reader #kevin sydney #kevin sydney x reader #morph smut #smut #WE NEED MORE MORPH CONTENT SO IMMA TAKE MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS RAHHH #Enjoy my lovelies <33 #I had to put in that brief logan mention #I had to

[mauvecherie-writes]

endless melodies: l.hamilton

part: v [series masterlist]

pairing: lewis hamilton x oc!jamilah riley

summary: shared time leading to perfect moments …

tags: 18+, MDNI, fluff, shameless corniness, dual povs, making out, cunnilingus, cliffhanger ending.

w.c: 4.8K

notes: the social media posts for this chapter will be coming later. Don’t forget to comment, reblog and like!

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @xoscar03

LEWIS

“Mmmm.” Jamilah moaned softly. “This is some of the best sorbet I’ve ever tasted.” Her eyes were closed as she savoured the taste but his eyes were on her face watching her. Since they had started dating, her and Lewis would explore all the vegan food spots that the city had to offer, including Neat Burger - a vegan fast food restaurant Lewis a controlling stake in. Lewis never cared about what Jamilah ate but he had picked up on the fact whenever they did decide impromptu food dates, she would suggest a restaurant that was vegan or had a lot of vegan options. He appreciated that effort from her and it made his feelings for Jamilah deepen further.

After her comment, Jamilah must have realised how quiet he had been. So she opened her eyes and turned to face him, he didn’t shift his attention from her face and it caused her to sheepishly smile as she licked her lips of the remnants of the sorbet.

“What?” Jamilah enquired with the softest giggle to her tone.

“Nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I just like seeing you enjoy your food. Every time you eat., your first bite is your slowest, like you’re really savouring it and this expression of joy spreads across your face. That’s the moment I wait for to savour myself.”

His words caused her to take a sharp gasp and then exhale as she inched closer to his body on the bench. Lewis placed his head on the back of the bench behind her head as she crossed her leg so that her calf softly hung over his parted legs.

“That was the sweetest whole load of nothing Mr. Poet.” She said as she leaned closer to his face. Lewis smiled as he closed the gap in between them and brushed her nose with the tip of his.

“You like it when I become wax poetic for you.” He mumbled against her lips.

“Unfortunately, I do.” Jamilah whispered before sliding his bottom lip over hers and then capturing them completely. They both taste of the of the summer berries sorbet they had been eating but from her tongue, the flavour was so much sweeter.

A low moan left his mouth as she seeked out his tongue before beginning to suck on it. Lewis had to quickly stop this kiss before he took it too far. His free hand came to the back of her neck and softy gripped it, forcing himself to pull his lips away.

“You can’t be kissing me like that in public. You’re playing a dangerous game pulling that move.” He lightly teased her bottom lip, licking it and then slightly biting it. Jamilah’s free hand came to his chin and gripped it inbetween her pointer finger and thumb.

“I like taking you out of your element. I think about you losing your cool a little too often for my liking.” She stated as she caressed his lip with her thumb. Lewis suddenly nipped at the digit which caused her to yelp and then giggle.

“Let’s finish these cones before I do something that’ll get us in trouble.” He mumbled as he stood up and stretched out his hand for her to take. Once their fingers were interlinked, they took a walk down the block as they continued enjoying each other’s company.

JAMILAH

A few days after the sorbet date, Lewis wanted to take Jamilah on one more date before he left for another race. With all of the time that they had been spending together, she was past the point of attachment, Jamilah knew that was falling and she was falling fast.

However, she knew that Lewis had to be feeling the way that she was. From the words he shared, his touch and his intended action with her. People in both of their camps were cautioning them about the speed of how their relationship was progressing but neither of them cared.

“So miss thang, we both know that you’re not coming home tonight so we changed your clutch bag to a larger shoulder bag and put in your essentials case.” Amal said as she dropped onto her older sister’s bed with a slight bounce. “Oh! And we swapped the condoms that were in there, lord knows that they needed a change.”

“AMAL!” Jamilah exclaimed as she whipped around to face her little sister as Jodie lightly chuckled as she snacked on a bowl of grapes.

“What? I’m nineteen, I know about condoms.”

“I know. You’re still my sister and I would like to not think about you touching such in relation to me.”

“Oh I didn’t do that, Jodie did. She changed the size too.”

“This is NOT the conversation I need to be having right now before I leave.” Jamilah scrunched her eyes shut as she tried not to focus on the words out of her sister’s mouth.

“Listen, we’ve all seen the shots and videos of Lewis adjusting his racing suit, we are not blind. We’re just making sure that you’ve got the right shit. I’m sure he has his own but you can never be too careful.” Jodie stated as Amal nodded her head along in agreement. Jamilah sighed as she stood up straight after finishing the application of her mascara.

“One, I don’t need to hear my two closest people talking about they were looking at videos of my man adjusting his junk. And two, while I appreciate your efforts, I highly doubt we’ll have sex tonight. In some cliche way, I’m waiting until he asks me to be his girlfriend.” Jamilah responded.

“And if he did ask you tonight? Would you?”

Jamilah pondered on the question. Things had been going very well between them but something just didn’t feel quite yet. The moment hadn’t arrived for the official question to be asked.

“No. But I will enjoy everything else.” She answered with a smile. “Now, stilettos or boots?”

~

She had chosen the boots to go with her black bodycon mini dress and the leather trench coat to shield her from the chilly winds of a London night. Lewis wasn’t able to come pick her up but he had arranged for a car to pick her up to drive her to the restaurant.

When she arrived outside of the restaurant, Jamilah was grateful to see that there were no paparazzi lurking by - at least from what she could see. She was quickly greeted by the front of house before being led through the space and led her right to Lewis.

He stood up as she approached the booth. There was a smile on his face as he moved around the table and outstretched his arm to take her hand and pull her into a soft kiss. Jamilah pressed a hand on his chest as she smiled against his lips.

“You look beautiful as ever Princess.” He mumbled into her ear as he embraced her.

“Thank you, handsome.” He was dressed simply in all black with a sleeveless buttoned cardigan with a couple of chains hanging from his neck. Jamilah placed one more kiss on his cheek. He took her hand and led her to sit down first before sliding into the booth and placing himself beside her.

The front of house placed the menus in front of them. “Andy will be your server for the night, they’ll be with you shortly.”

“Thank you.” Lewis replied to the staff before turning his full attention back to Jamilah. He leaned forward and took a sniff of her neck before placing a kiss onto her skin. The action caused her giggle. “You smell like vanilla and caramel today.”

“I changed my lotion a couple of days ago.” She replied as she opened the menu. “Are we drinking today?”

“I’m flying out tomorrow night so I can have a couple.”

“Yay!” Jamilah cheered as she reached for the drinks menu and browsed through the wine list. “Are you getting some sushi with me?”

“Yeah. I checked out the menu before I booked our table, they know my dietary requirements already.” Lewis said as he pulled the menu towards him.

“Will my fishy breath bother you?”

“Princess, I’ve kissed you after you demolished six birria tacos in like ten minutes. I think we are very much past the point of me caring about fishy breath after sushi.”

“Okay. I was just checking.” She giggled.

Andy came to their table and took their food and drink orders. Once they had left, Jamilah turned to Lewis and began playing with the chains around his neck.

“Are you coming back right after Monaco?” She asked him.

“I have some contractual things that I have to sort out whilst I’m still out there but then I have to fly out stateside to get some work done before Canada.”

“So I won’t physically see you until you come for Spain?!” She pouted, the cute expression causing him to laugh.

“We don’t need to be apart that long. I know your album roll out doesn’t start until Silverstone weekend. It’s in final production so you have some time on your hands.”

“And you’re saying all of this because?”

“I’m saying all of this because I want you to join me.” Lewis state confidently as he looked into her eyes. Jamilah was partially surprised at the statement but from what he had previously said that this was where it was leading to and honestly? It made her feel extremely giddy.

Then it dawned onto her.

“Why are you just asking me now?! I barely have time to prepare.” She said as she playfully nudges his arm.

“You can fly out on Saturday night and be there for race day.”

“No. I’ll fly out Friday night and then during the layover going stateside, I’ll grab the rest of my stuff.”

“God, my team is gonna think I’m crazy for doing this.”

“They had a meltdown at those pictures of us after our ice-cream date. I cannot imagine how Rosa is going to handle it me being there for the entire weekend without warning.”

“I’ll message her in the morning so that she has a heads up.” Lewis chuckled.

“Excuse me guys, here are your drinks. A white wine and an old fashioned with an extra half shot.” Andy placed their drinks down then announced that their food would be arriving shortly.

“Who is going to be at the race?” She asked as she took a sip of her wine.

“Roscoe. He’s going to be travelling with us for a little bit. I missed him.”

“Aww, I miss my little guy too.” She smiled. “Anyone else I’ll know?”

“I’m not really sure yet but some of the guy’s partners will be there.”

“Want me to join their little WAG’s club?” She joked.

“You can do that.” He laughed. “Making new friends is always good.” He added causing her to roll her eyes and smile before drinking more of her wine.

During their dinner, their conversation never stopped - mostly focused on their plans for their coming weeks together. They fed each other pieces of their food but it was mostly Lewis sharing his enoki mushrooms in chilli oil because Jamilah had not liked the seaweed salad she had ordered.

Once her glass of wine was finished, Jamilah was more than ready to leave and spend time with Lewis in a more intimate setting. She wrapped her hands around his arm and she dropped her chin onto his shoulder.

He glanced down at her with a soft smile on his lips.

“How are you feeling baby?” He asked as he moved his free hand to her face and brushed a braid that had fallen out of place and tucked it behind her ear.

“I’m good. Thank you for dinner.” She said, sighing softly as Lewis drew mindless patterns with the back of his fingers.

“You’re welcome baby.” He cupped her cheek and then pecked her lips. “You ready to go?” He questioned which Jamilah responded by nodding her head.

Lewis called for the bill and after it was settled he stood up first and grabbed her trench coat, holding it out for her to wear.

Their car was already waiting for them as they walked outside hand in hand. He let her enter into the car first and then he got in after. On the drive over to his home, Jamilah texted her groupchat updating them on her whereabouts and bidding her goodnights. It did not take long for them to respond. She just smiled to herself and locked her phone.

The driver drove into the underground parking of his building and parked close to the entrance doors.

“Thank you, Justin.” The two of them said to his driver, who threw an appreciative nod back.

They entered into the elevator and she smiled when she saw the mirror. “Take a picture with me.”

“Are you going to post it?”

“Only to my close friends.” She chewed onto her bottom lip.

“Okay.” He stopped leaning against the mirror as she positioned herself in front of him. His hands came to her hips as she grabbed onto his neck and took the picture.

“There we go.” She giggled as she stared at the way his head naturally leaned towards hers. Lewis glanced at the picture as well.

“Send me that.” He said as she posted the picture onto her private Instagram story. She hummed as an answer as the elevator finally reached the main floor of his building.

The entrance of the ground floor of his home was a well decorated foyer with a central table with a beautiful cherry blossom bonsai tree sitting on top a marbled floor. Dotted across the white walls of the foyer were decorative art pieces complimenting the colour palette of the area.

“Not only did you renovate this building to have an underground parking space and with an elevator, you have a foyer with a bonsai tree to greet you!”

“Wait until you see the indoor spa.” His comment caused Jamilah to gasp with glee.

“We are so ending the house tour with that.”

Lewis then proceeded to show her around his home, leaving the master bedroom and his closet. Somewhere along the way, they had both taken off their shoes - Jamilah, happy to be flat footed with her boho braids in a bun.

Seeing the blue of the water was like a siren calling which shot an idea into her mind. She stopped walking in her tracks and turned to face Lewis from where he stood.

“I want to jump into this pool.” She exclaimed which made Lewis chuckle.

“Are you sure that you want to do that?.” He asked.

“Is the water heated?”

“Let me check.” He walked towards the control panel closest to him. He pressed a few buttons and then nodded his head. “Yeah it’s warm.”

“So what’s stopping me from taking a dip in this gorgeous pool of yours?”

“Um, you don’t have a swimsuit?” Instead of answering, Jamilah took a good look around. The spa pool was dimly lit with loft music playing in the background, the sounds of the jets echoing into the space.

“You know you can always come back and do this at a later date. Are you sure that you want to do this now?” Lewis asked her as he stood by the entrance to the indoor pool as his eyes followed Jamilah who was dancing around close to the edge of the pool. She then turned on her heel to look at him with her eyes brimming with mischief once her mind was finally made up.

“I mean my underwear provides the same function right? Covering up all my good bits.” Her answer caused Lewis to laugh before he licked his lips and shifted his weight with his hands behind his back as he leaned on the wall with his shoulder for support.

“I guess so.” Lewis later mumbled.

Her next move could not be blamed on alcohol. She only had one glass of wine at dinner - Jamilah could only blame it on being high off the attention that Lewis had been constantly feeding her all night.

So whilst holding eye contact with him, she began pulling the bottom of her dress upwards her thighs. She could hear his breath hitching when her black thongs got exposed to his eyes. It brought a smile to her face. Jamilah grabbed the bottom of the bunched up fabric and completely pulled the dress of her body before dropping it onto the floor.

“Fuuck.” Lewis lowly uttered which sent a shiver down her spine. She bit onto her lip as he drank in her body. The softly padded bra did nothing to hide her body’s reaction to his gaze.

He stood up straight as she began slowly inching backwards towards the heated pool. “Are you going to join me or are you going to stand there and watch me?”

Due to the silence, Jamilah could only focus on the frantic beating of her heart after she had asked the question. But she didn’t need a verbal answer - her abdomen muscles involuntarily clenched as she watched Lewis push off the wall and begin to approach her.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he begun to work to unfasten the buttons of his sleeveless cardigan before pushing it off his body. Once the fabric fell away from his shoulders, he turned to his jeans to unbutton them and push them past his thighs leaving him just his boxers.

Jamilah chewed on her bottom lip as she let her eyes marvel in the beauty of the specimen standing in front of her. Not wanting to let nerves show any further than they had been to this point. She walked to the ladder leading into the pool and began to inch her body below the surface of the water. She shivered at the contact with the warm water but she let it wash over the longer she immersed herself in the pool.

She swam away from the ladder, careful not to get her hair wet as she got closer to the edge closet to where Lewis was standing.

“Don’t be scared to jump in.” She teased him. He rolled his eyes before he dove into the water. Jamilah squealed as she turned her face away from the splashes of the water. Before she could clear the water away from her face, she felt his arms reach across her waist and he pulled her into the warmth of his body.

“You’re so fucking lucky I have braids right now because had it been a silk press, it would been real bad for you.”

“I would have just given you the money to get it sorted.” He shrugged as he wrapped her limbs around his body.

“Not all of us have hair stylists on retainer. I have to book mine.”

“So I would have given you mine.” His sentence caused her to laugh as they continued to bob along in the water.

“No offence babe, because for whatever reason that works for you but I’ll never let your stylist touch my hair.”

“Not this again.” He groaned.

“Yes this again! Baby you need to change the person who does your hair. I’m tired of your fans crying in my comments every time I post.”

“Princess, I don’t want to talk about how much you and my fans don’t like my braider when you’re this close to my dick.” Lewis said he squeezed her ass cheeks causing a squeal to leave her mouth before giggling. She was just not realising how much she did when she was with him.

“Fine.” She tried to pull away from him but Lewis held onto her. “Baby.” A soft laugh left her as she placed her hands on his shoulders. “If you don’t let go of me, I can’t enjoy this marvellous pool the way I want to.”

“Give me a kiss first.” He mumbled. That she could do. She slid her lips against his. Lewis moved his hand along her back before settling on the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. On instinct, Jamilah pushed her breasts against his chest as she moaned into his mouth. Without realising, she had been rubbing herself against the fabric of Lewis’s boxers. He brought his hands to her waist to steady her before he pulled his mouth away from the kiss.

“If you want to swim then I suggest unwrapping yourself from me before I take you out of here.” She blushed as she detached her legs from his body. She splashed his back as she swam away trying to calm the rush that had began to spread through her body.

Before she had let go of him, Jamilah had looked into his eyes. They held promise. They had been playing so close on the edge and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to break the promise she had made to herself.

~~~

After spending no more than thirty minutes swimming and playing in the pool, Lewis led her to the master bedroom and showed her the en suite, giving her something to change in as he utilised a guest bathroom to shower. Once he was done, he went to collect their belongings and headed back to the bedroom.

Jamilah hadn’t left the bathroom but he could hear that the shower was off. As he folded her dress and placed it by her handbag. She opened the door and his eyes took her in. She stood there wearing one of his baggy t-shirt. He had also given her a new pair of brief boxers but they weren’t showing as they were swallowed by the fabric.

“Don’t you look gorgeous.” He smiled at her as she walked towards him and reached for her bag.

“You never stop do you?” Jamilah said as she dug through the bad and pulled out a smaller bag.

“Like any man, I like seeing my woman in my clothes.” She rolled her eyes at his answer as she pulled out a silk scarf.

“Give it to me.” He held out his hand and she placed the scarf into his palm. Lewis focused on carefully wrapping her braids, making sure that it wasn’t too tight on her edges.

“Thank you honey.” She lightly stood on her tip-toes and pecked his lips. “Where’s your durag? I need to wrap up your fuck ass braids.”

“You need to stop talking shit about my hair.”

“Not until you change your braider.” She replied in a sing-song voice. Lewis didn’t respond to her but he sat in between her legs as she sat on the edge of the bed. Jamilah soothed out his plaits once she had taken off his hair tie. She secured the durag and placed a kiss on top of his head. “All done.”

Lewis turned his head and kissed her thigh. He continued to place kisses on her skin as he turned his body.

“Stop!” She squealed, feeling ticklish and pushed his head away from her legs but Lewis picked her up by her knees and dropped her further up the bed. Jamilah rushed to pull the t-shirt down her body. The underwear that he had given her were tightly pressed against the dampness of her cunt.

Since they shared their first kiss in the studio, they had been playing it safe. But the kissing and touching was becoming too much for her. Her body was craving more but she knew that if they crossed that line, then she would be giving herself to on a platter. It was hard not to when he had been doing everything right.

“Hey.” His voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Where did you go just there?”

She shook her head in response as she gave him a lazy smile. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“Us.”

“What about us?”

“You don’t think we’re moving too fast? Like everything had been so perfect and at the back of my mind, I keep waiting for the ball to drop.” She confessed. “I want this with you so much but I’m also the first woman you’ve been with publicly. What if you don’t want this any more, the longer it goes on?” Jamilah was no longer looking up at him but as his chest, focusing on the compass tattoo, tracing the north tip point. She felt Lewis place his hand beside her head before tipping her face upwards so that she could meet his eyes.

“Did you ever think about the fact that it’s going really well because I want the exact same thing that you want? That I’m doing things out of my typical because I am so enamoured by you, I’m doing what my heart tells me instead of following the logistics of what our teams tell us to do.”

His words rained over and pooled into her heart. She cupped his face and stroked the swell of his cheeks.

“You’re not alone in this. I’m right here with you.” He turned his head and kissed her inner palm.

“Okay.” She whispered then leaned up to capture his lips. The gentle touch of their lips caused him to sigh into her mouth. Jamilah took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sucking on his tongue. He groaned as he leaned down and pressed his chest against her stomach.

“Baby.” Jamilah whimpered as his hands moved beneath her shirt and settled on her back, just above the hem of the boxers.

“Let me take care of you.” Lewis mumbled before nibbling on her bottom lip. She parted her legs as he began moving down her body. He moved the fabric of the t-shit away from the stomach. He inhaled deeply as her hands rubbed on his head. Lewis grabbed at the boxers and pulled them away from her hips.

Jamilah sighed as he returned to lay kisses on her hip bones, the contact sent shivers up the length of her spine.

“Mmm.” She moaned as his thumb caressed her clit in slow, soft circles that made her pussy clench. Lewis dipped his head in between her thighs and glided his tongue across her clit. A tremor rushed through her body and made her legs wobble. He picked up her calf and placed his leg over his shoulder.

“Look at me, princess.” He commanded. When Jamilah looked at him and his stare was intense and full of desire. Full desire of her.

He winked at her and then lowered his mouth onto her clit. He wrapped his arms around her legs, pulling Jamilah closer to his mouth and locking her bottom half in place. Lewis kept his eyes locked in with hers as his tongue flicked against her clit.

“Oh shit! Lew!” One hand reached down and kept his head in place as she rode his face.

“You took so fucking good baby.” He moaned and continued moaning against her pussy as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

Jamilah had received head before and she knew how good it would feel but it was never like this. All of her senses were alive but her mind was clouded with pleasure. Lost in it, she fell back onto the bed. A hard slap came to her inner thigh and the sting made her shiver with pleasure.

“Eyes on me princess. Don’t make me tell you again.” The sternness of his voice aroused her even more.

“Okay.” She whispered.

Right then, Lewis began to fuck his tongue faster, forcing her words down her throat. She dug her nails into his hair, pulling on what she could through the durag as she began to tremble.

“Right there! Right fucking there!” She pleaded as she locked eyes with him, concentrating on rocking her hips faster, bumping her pussy against his nose. Jamilah was making his face wet and she didn’t care.

Evidently, he didn’t care either.

Then Lewis pulled her pussy lips apart and slid two fingers into her cunt and curled them upwards. Dragging his fingers forth as he thrusted them, with his tongue eagerly rolling on her clit and applying pressure on the nub. Jamilah’s mouth formed into a silent O with one last drag.

“Oh fuck! I’m coming! I’m c-.” Her body seized in place as her orgasm ruptured. Lewis hummed satisfied as his gaze darkened.

She fell backwards as she tried to catch her breath. He gently kissed her pelvis before shifting until he was hovering above her. He held onto her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. Jamilah moaned at the taste of herself left on his lips.

“You’re so pretty when you come.” He murmured, pecking her lips as he spoke.

“When will I get to see you come?” She threw back at him which caused him to smirk.

“Not tonight.” He replied, colliding their lips once more. “But I’m going to make you come on my face again.”

“Oh god!” Jamilah gasped as she arched off the bed as he laid his mouth on her pussy once more …

XXXX-XXX-XXX

You’re really fucking with that nigga huh?

XXXX-XXX-XXX

Bet.

ru’s letter💌: it’s nearly 5am. I hope I wake up to all of your love 💋

#mauvecherie writes #endless melodies fic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x black oc #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilon x black!reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #sir lewis hamilton #lh

[claw404]

i feel like i'm going insane but so far i've never seen anyone mention venture probably eats box the way they eat their ice cream. happy venture skin release day

oh trusttttt ive been thinking about this, a little too much

Ventures tongue

They would start off slow and tender with intentionally slow and drawn out licks, savouring your taste and the sounds you made as they slowly teased you. Eye contact all the while unless you broke it. The grip they had on you would leave marks on your thighs for sure.

You tell them to slow down and they do, but only for a moment before they go back to their original ravenous rhythm, unable to hold themselves back.

Anytime you'd try pulling back from overstimulation Sloane would yank you right back with a slick smile, groaning amusedly into you as they got back to work.

Good luck forgetting about the experience. Anytime they eat their ice cream, Sloane will make sure you get a good look at how they can work their tongue, reminding you that they can do much worse to you than that cone they are holding.

#spreading munch venture propaganda one post at a time #tihi #nsft #venture #venture x reader #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #imagine #headcanons #ask #anon #overwatch x reader

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

6,7 and 9 from the 3rd list prompts, perhaps an Yandere Lucifer making sure Adam won't run away from him 👉🏻👈🏻👀💕

also love your fanfics they are so soft, I love to read them when I read too much dark fanfics 😌🍷

6. “You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.” 

7.“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.” 

9. "Don't look at me like that"

Thank you!! 😁💕 Hope this is okay.

Adam pulled on the hand cuffs that kept him secured to the bed, his arms ached slightly from being in that position for so long. He glared at Lucifer who ran a finger tenderly down his cheek and neck. "Don't look at me like that Adam."

"How can I not? This is forced confinement! Luci, please let me go." Adam begged. "I won't try to run again, I promise."

"See, that's what you said last time." Lucifer tapped Adam playfully on the nose and grinned. "You know it's crazy. You have me wrapped around your finger. And the crazy part is I don't mind." Lucifer cupped Adams face and made him look the devil in the eye. "What I DO mind, is when you lie to me and try to run away. You'll never leave this manor, Adam, I promise that to you."

"I still have power as a sinner."

"And these are angelic hand cuffs that suppress the power I gave you . Don't forget this my dear." Lucifer got in Adams face. "I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted." Lucifer's face changed from hardened anger to a soft, caring look. "But I don't want to."

Lucifer took to kissing at Adams face, neck and lips, savoring the smell and taste of his human.

Adam let him, he had no choice. But deep down he knew that he belonged to Lucifer. He always had.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

[forever-once-gone]

Day 3: Yoongi - You Meet Your Fated at a Coffee Shop <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 3.7k (can't keep them short for the life of me)

Content and Warnings: soulmate au, coffee shop au, gn!reader, sharing preferences, arguing, frustration, they're both a bit dense lol, but other than that nothing too terrible in this, just sweet honestly, almost throwing up, coffee snob!Yoongi, barista!Yoongi, mocha slander, terms of endearment: baby, dear, Y/n is ready to FIGHT

Author's Note: Hey! So like I know it is well past Feb, but tbh it was crazy of me to even think id have time to publish these things during midterms season. Even though I had reading week, it was just not going to happen. Even though I did manage to write some of the days, I obviously couldn't every day. And posting? Forget about it. Anyway, even if it's past Feb, would you want me to post the ones I did write? It won't be instantaneous, but I would like to share what I did write, and maybe even finish all the other days as I had already planned out what I wanted to write each day. Let me know if you're interested! Anyways, as always, enjoy! <3

Another mocha, just another mocha to fill up in the takeaway cup for another person who is trying to get through the February cold. Yoongi gets a lot of mocha requests before the winter holidays season. When so many are hyped up with Christmas cheer. Even people who do not celebrate Christmas tend to indulge in peppermint mochas when the snow hits the ground. And the trend trickled into the post holiday months every winter season. To the point when people ordered mochas even into early spring.

Yoongi, ever the coffee enthusiast, hated having to make so many mochas.

Frankly, he considered mochas just snobby chocolate milk with the smallest hint of caffeine. Like do mochas even deserve to be considered coffee-based beverages? He thought not. You could barely even taste the coffee in between the thick, tongue-coating taste of chocolate and the heaviness of way too much milk.

Everytime he had to make mochas, every single time, he’d be cursing in his head about how he would rather just be able to make his espressos, black coffees, and iced americanos. Iced americanos are the most he’d be willing to go when it comes to diffusing the taste of coffee.

Adding milk? Forget it.

Adding sugar? He’d rather just pour it down the drain than drink it.

Alas, when it comes to his job, he has to fulfill the customer’s wishes. No matter how much he hated the sugary, barely-even-coffee, more-like-milkshakes drinks, he would make the drink for them. A waste of good coffee in his books, but he needed the money that came from his overpriced caffeinated chocolate milk 

So, when it came to a coffee-novice coming into his coffee shop asking for a mocha, he would grit his teeth but make the drink nonetheless, the underline he requires to be able to pay his shop’s mortgage and keep all of his employees.

It was another one of these spring days when he’d unlocked the front doors of the café only to see someone new. Normally, only a few select people would come to his café so early in the morning, after all, most people started work at 9 or later. Only a few people would come at 5:30 when he opened. But today, there was someone new.

There was you, a person he’d never seen before standing behind his regulars. A cheery looking person, giving him a smile when he unlocked the door and opened it for the small group of people to trickle in.

He made his way behind the counter as he began his small routine with his regulars, smiling at each one of them as they gave him their orders, even though there really was no need as he had gotten each one of them memorized ages ago.

He took and prepared each order with practiced ease, until he got to the last person in line. The one who had spent the last ten minutes scanning the chalkboard menu with an analytical look.

You.

“Good morning,” you said to him with a kind smile.

“Good morning,” he replied. “What can I get started for you today?”

You wrung your hands, scanning the menu again, before looking back at him. “Can I get a large mocha?”

He scoffed. Seriously, chocolate this early in the morning? Typical from a cheery-looking person like yourself.

“What?” you asked, wondering if you’d broken some unspoken social cue. You’d seen the way he’d kindly spoken to the customers before you, making small talk, so what happened when it came to you?

“Nothing, nothing,” he waved you off, before pressing some buttons on his cash register’s screen. “That’ll be 5000 won.”

“No, no. That definitely was something. Did I say anything wrong?” You insisted, brows furrowed together in a mix of worry and a bit of indignation.

“No, not at all. It’ll be 5000 won.” He tried to force a smile, but your eyes were squinted together just as you did before when you were scanning the menu, but this time your object of interest was him.

“What? You just don’t like me or something?” You felt a bit uncomfortable, out of place in this cafe with a barista who seemed to hold a certain disdain for you from the moment you opened your mouth. But that didn’t mean you were going to back down from this entitled man. You eyed him up and down, letting him know the contempt was mutual.

He let out a small scoff, before seeming to recompose himself with customer service professionalism. “Of course not. I’m sorry if it seemed that way. Your total is 5000 won.”

You could see through his poorly reconstructed composure, but nonetheless gave him the requested money. You were already running late to your job interview, and you needed this job if you hoped to actually be able to rent a place in this city. You had already spent three weeks staying with your friend after moving here from your old city. You couldn’t stay with her forever, even if she was willing to keep you for forever if you needed it.

You stepped away from the register after he had given you your change and moved away to make your drink. You took the time to continue admiring the interior of the cafe as the barista flew around his counter space. You took in the worn furniture resembling something half between industrial and contemporary. The hanging lights and the various maps lining the walls of the place. Very hipster. Fitting for a coffee shop.

The call of: “One large mocha?” brought you back from your inspection. With a hum, you took your drink from him, feeling the drink warm your gloved hands.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, have a nice day.” And with that he was moving back to his dishes to clean up the dishes he’d used before the next customers wandered in.

You turned away from him, moving towards the door. Before you pushed open the door to brave into the cold, you flipped open the flap on the top of the to-go cup. You took a quick sip, ready for the delicious drink to coat your tongue, but instead your tastebuds were assaulted with a heinous amount of sugar. It tasted like you’d boiled a pool full of chocolate and dumped a truck full of sugar and then reduced the entire pool full over a roaring fire until only a cup of the concentrated mixture remained full of pure chocolate and sugar.

You immediately turned back on your heel. Pressing your tongue against the tip of your mouth, trying to rid it of the sweet assault. “You messed up,” you slammed the cup on the counter, seeing the barista’s shoulders jump at the loud thump.

“What’s the issue?” he asked, as he wiped off his hands on a hand towel before flipping it onto his shoulder. He leaned onto the counter with the palms of his hands, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore considering the frown he sent your way.

“This is way too sweet. Like what, did you dump a whole bag of sugar into this thing?” You nudged the cup towards him. “If you didn’t like me, you could have just refused to take my order, you didn’t have to do all this!” You gestured to the cup.

“Please, I need you to calm down. I didn’t do anything to your drink. It’s just a regular mocha. Mochas are sweet, you should have known that before you ordered it for the first time.” He rolled his eyes slightly.

“First time? Oh, honey, no—I know what mochas are meant to taste like and this is not it. It’s practically the only thing I ever get!”

He scoffed yet again. Typical, he thought to himself. Never would've guessed. “Just take your drink and go, I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t believe me do you?” You said in disbelief. You never would dare fight with someone like this, but for some reason, this one guy was just getting on your nerves. Typically, even if your order had gotten mixed up you would just swallow your disappointment and try to enjoy the drink anyway. Even if it was something bitter and boring like a plain black coffee. But the way this man had been acting from the moment you ordered has been rude and completely ruined your confidence. Not what you needed at all before trying to get this job. And for some reason, it felt like all your senses and emotions had been turned up to 100, so controlling your anger was a lot harder.

“Drink it,” you told him, holding his eye contact. “Yeah, drink it. If you can drink even one gulp without making a face, I’ll admit I was wrong and leave.”

The barista tongued his cheek for a moment, contemplating what you said. “I don’t want to. I don’t like mochas, besides, I can’t drink a customer’s drink anyway.”

“I’m just gonna take your refusal as you admitting that you fucked with my drink.”

By this point the two people left in the shop were watching the two of you fighting at the counter. A middle aged man walked up to the counter, stepping in to try and defuse the situation. “Why don't you just take a sip of it, Yoongi? Just to prove them wrong?”

“I refuse,” the barista, Yoongi, said to the man. “It’s a matter of principle at this point. I’m not drinking it. I know my abilities, and I know that that mocha would be as good as mochas get. I’m not gonna take a sip of a nasty ass mocha just cause this person wants to throw a fuss at five in the morning.”

“So you admit you fucked with it?! You admitted it’s nasty!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes at you for the umpteenth time this morning. “I just hate mochas, they taste like shit. But anyone who likes those chocolatey messes will admit mine are as good as they get. I might not like them, but I still put all my effort into making sure they taste good.”

“Just fucking drink it then! I’m not joking, this tastes like shit. Maybe something is wrong with your milk steaming machine or something—this just isn’t right!”

The middle-aged man decided to try and put the fight to an end. “Why don’t I just give it a try, huh?”

“No!” But Yoongi and you said at the same time, before turning back to each other again.

“He refuses to admit it, and he has to be the one to try it!” You crossed your arms.

“And they’re the one who is making a big situation over nothing, you should never give in to people like them.” He glared at you. Now that his patrons were getting involved, he wanted to get you out as soon as possible.

“Just try it! I swear it’s unbelievable. Just give it one sip!” You threw up your arms in frustration. “Come on, I’m not even asking for a refund or anything, I just want you to admit that you took your anger out on me for no reason. That’s all, I don’t even want an apology!”

“I don’t need to apologize! I didn’t do anything wrong! That mocha is PERFECT! I’d bet my life on it.” Yoongi was fuming now, chest heaving with frustration and annoyance. He was this close to calling the cops on you and calling it a day.

“Oh shut up with the ‘perfect’ nonsense! It’s not perfect! Just try it! This whole thing would have been over ages ago if you just gave it a try!” You pulled the cap off of the cup. “If you’re afraid it’s poisoned, I’ll take a sip of it before you drink it. See look.” 

You took a swig of the drink, nearly choking on the sugary beverage as you tried to keep the concoction from coming right back up. You gagged for a second or two, before finally straightening back up, wiping your mouth with the back of your gloved hand.

The two men around you exchanged expressions, their anger turning more to disbelief. Either you were a great actor or that drink really, really sucked.

“There, see. I didn’t tamper with it. Now, please, please just try it. Please. Don’t make me look insane. Just try it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Fine. Fucking fine. I’ll try it. But if it tastes fine, you need to leave my shop and never come back, you hear me?”

“I swear. I won’t come back, don’t plan to anyway.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at that, before grabbing the lidless cup from the counter. He held it up, hesitated, and then said, “I really don’t like mochas,” with a scrunch of his nose. He took a breath and then took the smallest sip you’ve ever seen a human being take before slamming the cup down. His hand immediately came up to cover his mouth, his eyebrows furrowed.

You couldn’t bear to hide your smug look. How was he gonna hide how terrible the drink was now? He looked like he was going to throw up. Ha! That will show him!

But then he did the weirdest thing. He took another sip. A long sip this time. Other than his furrowed brows, he didn’t choke, gag, or even dry heave for a millisecond. Just watching him drink was making you nauseous.

“Oh my god!” you yelled, snatching the cup from his hands before he could take another sip, holding it up behind you, away from him. “You’re going to give yourself diabetes if you drink that whole thing!”

Immediately he tried to reach across the counter and get it back from you. “Hey! Give that back! This makes no sense!”

“Yoongi, calm down!” The man said, pushing the barista back off of the counter that he was practically leaning his whole body onto at this point.

“Why does it taste good?!” The distress that the barista was under put even you on pause. You watched the barista scramble around, rubbing at his head as if it was aching him. Was this the effect of all the sugar?

“Hey, man, you doing alright?” You placed the cup back down on the counter, holding a hand out to him to show you meant no harm.

He just shook his head, picking up a half empty mug from behind the counter that you had seen him periodically sipping from between the preparation of yours and the others’ drinks. He took a large gulp only to immediately run to the sink, spitting the drink right into the drain.

“Why does my coffee taste so heinous?! Why does it taste like fucking bitter gasoline? Why does the mocha taste so fucking good?!” He was still hunched over the sink, the only thing you could see of him was his back a bit of his lowered head. His arm reached to grab the hand towel on his shoulder to throw it to the side.

You had no answer for him. This was all so bizarre.

“This—” the middle aged man brought both your and Yoongi’s attention to him, as he brought the cup back to his lips for another sip. When had he taken your mocha from you? Was it when Yoongi was losing his mind? 

“This tastes…” He took another sip. His brows furrowed in concentration. 

“This tastes like a regular mocha.” He put the cup back down. “I think you guys need to calm down for a moment and think about what this means.”

“What do you mean?” you asked him.

“I think you know what I mean, dear.” The man had a kind-hearted look on his face as his eyes flitted between both you and Yoongi.

“OH MY GOD.” Yoongi grabbed the edge of the counter, seeming to understand the man’s insinuation. “There is no way.”

“What? What am I missing?” The man only shook his head as Yoongi raised his head to meet your gaze. He just pushed his half empty mug to you. Inside was black coffee.

“Try it. I need to see if it’s true.”

“Um, no. I don’t like black coffee. Yuck.” You nudged the mug right back to him only for him to stop the movement halfway. 

“That’s exactly why you have to try this,” Yoongi said as calmly as he could, though you could swear he looked almost like he could faint right then and there.

“Fine,” you took the mug from him. “Just cause you did drink the mocha.”

You swirled the dark liquid in the mug, debating whether it was worth it to drink the bitter liquid. But when you looked up to see that both the man and Yoongi were watching you like scientists inspecting their latest mutant rats for their observational notes, you just took a sip only to get them to stop staring at you.

Instantly your throat was soothed as the smooth taste of the perfectly roasted coffee made its way through your mouth. You’d never drunk anything so refreshing, so calming as it warmed you up from the inside out. Even though there was no sugar or cream, you surprisingly didn’t mind it as it allowed the rich flavour of the black coffee to shine through strongly. It tasted so good.

You didn’t put down the mug until you’d finished the whole thing.

The middle aged man had a small smile on his face, while Yoongi seemed to be still in his inspector mode.

“So,” the man began. “How was it?”

You thought about it for a second. “Good. Like really good. Like surprisingly good.”

The man clapped his hands. “Well there you have it. Congrats you two.”

You shook your head for a second, scrunching your face in annoyance. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi came around the counter, finally coming to stand beside you without anything between you two. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Easy, Yoongi. Don’t want to scare them off now do you?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the man but then nodded his head in understanding. “You don’t like black coffee right? Too bitter or something?”

You nodded. “Yeah, too bitter. I need more sugar or else I just can’t get it down.”

“And I hate mochas. They’re too sweet and you can’t even tell there is coffee in it since it's so overpowered by the sugar, chocolate, and milk.”

“Okay… What does that have to do with me though?”

“But I just liked the mocha. Not just liked, I loved the mocha. And you loved the black coffee.”

“Yeah…” You waited for him to clarify further.

He waved his arm as if urging you to think further, but when you just cocked your head to the side in confusion, he dropped his arm back down to his side. “Seriously?” he asked, exasperated. “I hated my usual coffee and loved your mocha. And you hated your usual mocha and loved my coffee.”

You nodded your head, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Until it just clicked, your eyes widening instantly, reaching to grab his elbows. “OH MY GOD! We’re soulmates! Oh my god! We switched preferences! We’re soulmates!” You threw your arms around him, pulling him as close to you as you could through your thick winter jacket.

“Took you long enough,” he huffed, his arms reciprocating your grasp.

“Oh my god! I knew I was meant to move here! I have to tell my roommate! But wait—” you pushed him out of your hold.

Yoongi let out a light groan, as he caught himself from stumbling.

You pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You hate mochas, you black coffee supremacist!”

“Seriously?” Yoongi asked you. “That’s your biggest concern now?”

“Well yeah! I mean, I don’t know if my preferences will change back, but if they do, I can’t stay with a soulmate that thinks he’s superior to me because of his coffee preferences!”

Yoongi let out a small laugh, his lips tugging into a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I think I will never be able to hate mochas after today.”

Even with your finger still pointed at him, you felt your lips pull into a wide smile at the hidden meaning behind his words.

You both jumped at the clearing of a throat behind the two of you. The man had made his way to the front door of the coffee shop with his order in his hand. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to let you know that my wife, Maria, had been recording the entire thing in case you needed to call the police.” He nodded towards the other patron who had been at the shop when you and Yoongi had started fighting who was now standing holding the door open as she waited for her husband. “Let me know if you want the video of your first meeting, I’m sure your friends and family would love to see it,” he said between kind-hearted soft laughs, before leaving hand-in-hand with Maria.

“Maybe even our future grandkids,” you teased him happily, taking a step back towards him.

Yoongi just smiled in reply, showing off his perfect teeth to you.

You felt your heart swell.

He took another step towards you, grabbing a hold of your hands by your side. “I would like that.”

You heard the door chime as a customer walked into the coffee shop before their steps halted somewhere behind you.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” The customer asked from behind you.

“Give me a second,” Yoongi replied.

“Alright,” the person cleared their throat. “Just don’t want to be late for work.”

That seemed to jolt you out of your Yoongi admiring stupor. “Shit! I have an interview!” You tightened your hold on his hands before letting go.

By the time Yoongi realized what was going on, you were already halfway out the door.

“I’m going to be so late! I’ll be back later, okay, baby?” You had pushed the door open taking a step out before turning back to him. “I am allowed to come back right? Or am I still exiled from your shop?” You asked with a smile.

“Seriously?” He laughed, shaking his head as he made his way back behind the service counter. “Maybe you’ll just have to try your luck.”

“You’re impossible.” You laughed into your hand, waving your hand at him. “When I come back, if you don’t let me in, I’ll tell all your customers that I almost threw up after drinking your mocha.” You stuck out your tongue at him as he fake gasped, before finally actually leaving the shop.

Well, there's that.

So if you didn't get it, in this case, soulmates have different ways of finding out if they're meant to be in this universe. For Yoongi and Y/n, they met and ended up switching coffee preferences (or maybe even more preferences but the only thing they noticed so far is the coffee). Even though their reactions may seem extra, when you meet your soulmate all your emotions/feelings/everything is meant to be heightened. So they had each other's preferences, but n times stronger. So that's why they loved the other's preference like it was ambrosia, but their own preferences tasted like so bad to them. Y/n found the mocha wayyyy to sweet like Yoongi would usually, and Yoongi found the black coffee wayyyyy too bitter cause Y/n likes her coffee well sweetened and with a lot of stuff to mellow the coffee flavour.

But anyway, yes they're in love.

So yeah, do let me know if you want me to post the rest of these. It will be a slow process, but I would like to do so.

Take care!!

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #bts drabbles #yoongi drabble #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts oneshot #bts drabble #soulmate au #coffee shop au #Ev's writing #series: love amour aur pyaar