#it has begun....the ocs... they are coming!!!!

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | five

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: nothing that I can think of, just some fluff and nimue and azriel bantering

Two days had passed since Nimue had been there, in that house, in that city.

She spent the day inside her room, in silence, talking to herself or to The Voice, when that entity deigned to honor her with its presence. She wondered how it was able to overcome the magical guards that surrounded the entire house, how it got there without alerting Rhysand or any of the others.

Food simply materialized on a small desk in the room assigned to her. Clothing too.

Sometimes she heard the others talking through the walls: she heard them gathered in the living room discussing strategies or plans; she heard Feyre crying at night, lamenting the fate of her sisters and the guilt that consumed her; she heard Cassian and the blonde female, Morrigan, talking in the living room about trivial matters.

What she didn't hear was that dull noise on the other side of the bond. She hadn't heard the voice or the steps of this Azriel fellow. She hadn't smelled his scent, of cedar and mist, the same scent she had smelled on the dead spies her father had sent to Prythian.

In her head, she had begun to imagine stories about each of them. Her own observant nature had told her that Cassian must be some kind of warrior, a commander or general in Rhysand's army; Morrigan, on the other hand, must be involved in politics, as her contributions in those small meetings she heard on the other side of the house were purely rational and theoretical observations, worthy of a brilliant mind; Azriel, she assumed, would be a spy, hence that distinctive aura surrounding him, and the fact that her father's dead spies were imbued in his scent and that of his pretty dagger.

She spends her days like this, locked in with her own thoughts.

Until the third day, when someone knocks on her door. Sitting in a small armchair, Nimue simply waits for whoever it is to decide to come in: it's not her house, she has no right to prohibit anyone from entering.

When the door opens, the petite figure of Feyre slips into the room, closing the door behind her. They both look at each other, in silence, Feyre standing by the door and Nimue sitting in front of her.

Nimue knows she has nothing to say, however, Feyre seems to be struggling to find the right words.

"You're not our prisoner, you know that, right?" Nimue nods, but says nothing more. "You're free to roam the house, go out, and do whatever you do in your free time. We're not your jailers."

"I know, this is what I do in my free time," and with her hand, she simply gestures around, towards nothing. Because that's what she does in her free time: nothing. It's either train or wait for something to happen, nothing more. "I've considered it would be best to stay here. My presence is not welcomed in this house, and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I know it's not a good time."

Nimue didn't want to tell her that she heard her cry at night, but nevertheless, Feyre's gaze was filled with understanding.

"It's not a good time, you're right, but you've helped us to make it not even worse. Don't judge them by how they treat you, they're a bit short-sighted. That's what happens when you've been living the same life for five hundred years," a small laugh escaped Feyre's lips, and Nimue couldn't help but smile herself. There was something about that woman that softened her heart, like Ferlan, the old cook who told her stories. "They'll accept you, sooner or later. Give them time."

Feyre directed her a smile so warm and friendly that for a moment, Nimue felt breathless.

How sad it was, to shrink in her place at such a small act of kindness, because in her life she had never known such a thing.

Nimue nodded, trying to return the woman's smile.

"Come with me."

She was surprised, but she obeyed and stood up. The brunette woman walked through the halls of the house, with Nimue trailing behind. She pointed out each room; to the right, a beautiful office; to the left, a smaller second living room; downstairs the kitchen and the living room where she had already been, and a little further down the hall, a huge library.

Nimue couldn't wipe the constant look of amazement off her face: yes, she had seen libraries, offices, kitchens, living rooms. But nowhere had she felt that warmth emanating from the walls, that sweet smell, a mixture of all the scents of those who inhabited it.

She felt Feyre's eyes on her, with an amused expression on her face.

"You have the same look as a child who has tried candies for the first time."

Nimue frowned, tearing her gaze away from the shelves full of books to look at the brunette, puzzled.

"What is a candies?"

Feyre placed a hand on her chest, letting out a small cry of indignation. With her hands outstretched, she loudly asked for some candy and they immediately materialized in her palms.

Nimue looked at them as if she were looking at a six-legged horse: balls of all colors, with shiny wrappers and all kinds of scents. She took one and opened it, imitating Feyre, who popped one into her mouth without hesitation.

When the princess put it in her mouth, she could swear she had never tasted anything so delicious in her life. Yes, the food at her Palace was good, but that... That was a whole new world.

As she savored it and let it roll around in her mouth, she reached out her hands into the air.

"More," she said aloud. Feyre let out a genuine laugh that, once again, softened her heart. "More, please. I've never tasted anything so delicious in my life, I want more."

Candies began to sprout from the palms of her own hands, overflowing and falling to the ground. Before she knew it, a small pile of candies and many more things had formed at her feet: there were lollipops, spiral-shaped candies, candy canes. There were even small buns appearing at her feet and in her hands.

Feyre couldn't stop laughing. The innocence and naturalness of the princess had fallen upon her like sunlight, after being immersed in her own shadows for the past few days.

"The house really likes you, it's not willing to please everyone like this."

"I know," said Nimue, "sometimes I feel like it's trying to talk to me. It's such ancient magic, it must be a very special spirit."

A last and enormous bun appeared in her hands, as if the house itself were appreciating Nimue's acknowledgment.

She looked up at Feyre, with a silly smile she couldn't wipe off her face. It even hurt her face, as she couldn't remember if she had ever smiled so much in her life.

"Come, let's go outside."

Feyre took her hand, and while Nimue took one last bite of the bun, they left behind that small pile of sweets. She glanced back, and in a low voice, she thanked the house again.

Before she knew it, Feyre had pushed her out into the same courtyard where they had landed days ago, just after escaping from Hybern.

The sun was high in the sky, and Nimue had to squint to see anything. She found herself in the same situation as three days ago, completely overwhelmed by the light, the sounds, the smells, the vastness of the sky above her.

She took in as much air as her lungs would allow, and allowed herself to enjoy it all: the blue sky, the cool breeze coming from the mountains, the smell of the sea and salt that reminded her so much of home, when the sea breeze would sneak through her windows.

Twenty years locked away. And now, she felt that not even a whole lifetime would be enough to see it all, to feel it all.

She still held Feyre's hand, who couldn't stop watching her by her side.

"I believe you. I see in you a scared child who has managed to escape the clutches of an evil man," she said, carefully and in a low voice. Nimue felt a breath of fresh air, which tangled in her hair and danced around her face. "I choose to trust you because I see goodness and light in you, fighting to do something good."

Nimue brought a hand to her face: she found that, once again, she was crying.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you, for your trust. I understand what it's like to be in your place, I would also be suspicious of me. But I will prove to you that I can be useful to win this war."

Feyre nodded and smiled.

"I hope you'll be useful to us for much more than just the war."

And then Nimue felt it.

After three days of dead silence, something in her chest began to vibrate again.

She looked up at the sky to see two winged shadows approaching them. Instinctively, she covered Feyre with her body, prepared for anything.

Azriel and Cassian landed carefully on the courtyard, under Nimue's watchful gaze. Those wings were something impressive.

"What are you doing here alone with her, Feyre?" Azriel asked. He walked threateningly towards the two females, and Nimue felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, like a cat ready to attack. "It's not safe, she should be under surveillance."

"Azriel-"

"I'm right here, don't talk about me like a dog," Nimue interrupted, taking a step forward. Azriel was tall, yes, but so was she. Face to face, she didn't feel the least bit intimidated by him, and she even realized how surprised the male was by the indifference she felt towards his intimidation. Nimue smiled. "That thing of spreading your wings like a bird and seeming bigger might work with others, not with me."

She didn't know what prompted her to act like that with the winged male. Perhaps it was his anger, which through the bond infected her with that anger and rage that left her seeing red.

Azriel growled.

"Give me one reason to trust you. Then, I'll let you roam freely around my house and my city."

"I saved your life. Shall I remind you?" Nimue takes another step forward, getting so close to him that she can see the tiny specks of dark brown in his amber eyes. "If I hadn't taken you out of there, who knows what my father would have done to you. I also remind you that it was me who pulled the arrow out of your chest without poisoning you."

"But something tells me you're doing that to win our favor and trust. Who says you're not a spy for your father? Only a fool would trust you."

"Hey, I trust her," Feyre says. She and Cassian look at each other, not knowing what to do.

They don't fully understand the situation either. Azriel had always been cautious and foresighted, slow to trust people and always suspicious of others' intentions. However, there was something about Nimue... They couldn't quite put their finger on it, but it was a kind of blind trust.

Azriel ignores Feyre and continues accusing and accusing.

"What I really can't wrap my head around is how we've never known anything about you. My spies have been in the Court of the King of Hybern for years and I've never heard a whisper about a princess. If you're so powerful and important, explain to me how not a single person on the other side of the sea knows of your existence."

"Maybe you're not as good at your job as you claim to be."

Azriel feels like he's about to explode, now more than ever.

He has to fight against all his impulses not to kill her on the spot. But at the same time, there's something in him that dies just imagining her bleeding.

His own mind contradicts him, and he feels like he's going to split in two. So before any of that happens, he lets out one last growl and leaves, flapping his wings and causing a gust of wind that tousles Nimue's hair.

There they stand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nimue, watching Azriel enter the house.

They look at each other, not knowing what to say, and the princess feels her heart racing.

It was so complicated, dealing with all those pure and unfiltered emotions that came to her from the other side of the bond...

Cassian snorts and then smiles at the two females.

"Would you like some tea?"

Nimue furrows her brows and looks at Feyre, then at Cassian.

"What is a tea?”

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @annblvd @annamariereads16

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

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#rc9gn #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #torn pages au #randy cunningham #rc9gn first ninja #first ninja #rc9gn oc #it has begun....the ocs... they are coming!!!! #lol but no worries ill try to not make them too much of a focus #can u believe it? freakin 9 more pages holy sjiet. and we didnt even got to the actual idea i had im gonna cry #trying to be normal and not enjoy little dad things i make first ninja do ;3 #like helping kids dress cause waiting for them will take forever. the mom hand across body to protect them and the panic run. #the 'fuck the child took off without me' panic run is very familiar for me because i experience it from both sides #when i was a kid i accidently took off into traffic (on the crossing road but on yellow light) thinking my uncle was ahead #but in reality he was behind having a heart attack at my actions and taking off after me #and when i was a teen a family friend's kid i was looking after in the mall took off somewhere and i had a panic attack i lost him lol #his mother was NOT happy #kids? amiright?

[duckapus]

They Weren't Lying, That Kingdom Sure Can be Mushroom

Good news, the scanner isn't having any issues in this Zone and they know almost exactly where the Seed is.

Bad news, the further in you go the denser the forest gets and they can't fly through the mushrooms, so yet again it's time to go on foot. This time the away team consists of 4, Mario, Meggy, Tari, Lil Coding, Juliano, Toadsworth, Eggman, Cubot, and surprisingly enough Bomberto, who apparently has experience traveling through dense hostile forests and jungles. Kamek, Marcy, Root and Sig stayed behind to protect the ship, and Toadsworth is coming because this Zone includes the location of Peach's current castle, and between that and the theme he has his suspicions for who the trigger character might be.

As they slowly pick their way through the fungal undergrowth, it's clear that their two least likely members had other reasons to come as well; apparently Bomberto and Toadsworth were old...well, not war buddies since their respective Kingdoms were obviously the ones at war with each other back then, but more just that they kept running into each-other and were largely amicable despite being enemies, as evidenced by them regaling the rest of the group with tales of their youth to pass the time, commenting on and correcting each-other's take on events with fond amusement. A lot of the group is either mildly interested or just ignoring them to focus on the mission, while Lil Coding and Cubot are listening with rapt attention and Mario is bored out of his skull.

At one point Tari leans towards Meggy, "You know, I can't help but wonder if there might have been Something going on between them back then."

"You also thought Bob was my ex-boyfriend for multiple years."

"Fair enough."

Soon after this, Bomberto cuts himself off mid-sentence and stops dead in his tracks, "Wait. You hear that?"

Everyone else stops and look around nervously, before 4 answers, "I... don't hear anything."

"Exactly. There's animals 'round 'ere same as any forest, an' if they've all gone quiet at once..."

The implications gradually hit everyone, and they look out into the treeline, readying themselves for whatever might be coming.

They don't have to wait long, as desaturated, yellow-tinted Piranha Plants with long stems the color and texture of overripe bananas lunge out of the mycelium undergrowth, massive jaws snapping at whoever's closest and clouds of spores shooting out from the ones in the back like they're trying to use their usual breath attacks (one of which ends up blasting Eggman right in the face).

Thankfully, Piranha Plants aren't exactly that hard to fight, so the only real advantage they have over the crew is sheer numbers. Even Toadsworth manages to hold his own, beating them back with his cane and in one rather impressive display managing to stab one that tried a low approach clean through to the ground with the thinner end.

Still, there are a lot of Piranha Plants, and it's only a matter of time before 4 gets unlucky and finds himself pinned, staring into the approaching maw of a Plant until-

*BLAM!*

The Plant's head explodes into debris, soon followed by several others as a red and tan figure leaps into the fray and dispatches several of them in seconds with a shotgun.

As the remaining Plants retreat into the forest and the spores settle, the group is met with a familiar face.

"Shroomy!?"

The ex-demon-hunting boyscout, completely free of any signs of conversion, waves to them with his usual cheery grin, "Howdy fellas!"

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

As the group continues, Shroomy tells them what he's been up to lately. Apparently, neither of his personalities are compatible with whatever mindset triggers this Zone's conversions, and his skill at combat has so far protected him from what he's taken to calling the Moldy Piranhas. He's been spending his time exploring the forest, which he's dubbed the Toadstool Tangle, and guiding any other survivors he meets to Floyd's Zone. After all, even if becoming a depressed ghost isn't exactly pleasant, it beats the alternatives of mushroom trees or mind-controlled evil robots.

The group explains their own situation to him, and he's pretty sure he's got a good idea of where they need to go. The good news is, he knows a (relatively) safe route to get there. The bad news is, when they do make it there, they definitely won't be able to reach the seed's most likely location without a fight.

As they're traveling, Eggman and Juliano find themselves lingering towards the back, inexplicably worn out. While for Juliano that's fairly normal, Eggman isn't exactly out of shape (despite what shape he happens to be), so it's a bit of a mystery...

At least, until he has a brief coughing fit that results in a scattering of spores on his glove that was not there after he'd brushed himself off following the fight. He looks at the spores with confusion that rapidly morphs into horror, and he looks around to make sure no-one saw. Unfortunately, Juliano is looking right at him with a difficult-to-read expression... and then he pulls the collar of his sweater down a bit, revealing a patch of sickly green skin just above one of his scars, and the two share a Look of understanding and resignation, and come to a silent agreement not to say anything yet.

Soon enough, the group reaches a clearing, one with a towering structure of fused mushrooms that vaguely resembles a castle.

"Okay guys, this is the place. Now, I'm pretty sure that the thing you're lookin' for is up in that window at the top," he points up and sure enough, there's an opening just below the cap of the highest mushroom, the one in the center, "but to get up there, we're gonna have to get past the guard."

"What guard?"

There's a strange, high-pitched roar, and a massive yellow-and brown thing comes climbing around the central tower.

"That guard."

[Alright, I'm shit at writing fight scenes, this post's been giving me enough trouble already, so I'm just gonna say that this is Petey Piranha's converted form, which I've dubbed Moldy Draco Piranha, and they do manage to beat him, including the Absolutely Necessary finisher of Mario grabbing him by the mushroom on the end of his tail and flinging him into the distance]

4 takes a moment to catch his breath, "Well, glad that's over. Now we just need to grab that seed."

Mario raises his hand, "I'll handle it. I'm the best jumper, and I'm... pretty sure I know who's up there."

4's a bit confused by this, since he assumed Petey was the trigger character, but he shrugs it off, "Alright man, go for it."

As he heads towards the castle, Toadsworth follows him, "Erm, Master Mario, if it's not too much trouble would you mind giving this old man a boost up? I'd like to see her as well, but I'm afraid my jumping days are long behind me."

"No problem," He kneels down so the old toad can get up onto his back, then after making sure he's secure starts making his way up to the window.

And, sad to say, they find exactly what they thought they would.

"Oh, my..." Toadsworth drops down from Mario's grip and limps forward, stopping just in front of Peach and reaching up to gently cup her cheek.

Her eyes open just a bit, painfully slowly, and she looks down at him while ever so slightly leaning into his touch, "toads...worth?"

"Oh, princess." He tries his best to hug her, which is a bit awkward given their height difference and the bulb on her arms, "I'm so sorry I wasn't here with you."

"...glad...you're...safe..." she does her best to reciprocate the hug with what little mobility she has, then looks up to see the other man in the room, "...ma...ri...o..."

He gives her a sad, lopsided smile, "Hey Peach. This sure brings back memories, huh?"

She huffs in what's probably intended to be laughter, grinning back as best she can, then looks down at the bulb. It glows for a brief moment, then slowly opens to reveal an orange Wonder Seed, "loo...king...for...this?"

He nods and puts the seed in his hammerspace, then gently brushes aside some of her hair so he can look her clearly in the eyes, "I'll save you, I promise."

"...I...know. you...al...ways...do," she looks down sadly, "...ev...en...af...ter...all...I've...done..."

"Hey, you're getting better. We both are. No beating yourself up in here, alright."

"I'll...try..."

The three of them take a few more moments together, before Mario and Toadsworth have to go back to the others. While most of them can pick up on the melancholy surrounding the two, there's no time to waste.

"Alright, we're more than halfway there! Back to the ship everybody." as the group heads out once more, something seems to be amiss, "Uh, Eggman, Juliano? We gotta go."

Juliano shakes his head, "Sorry 4. We're a bit...stuck." He gestures down to his and Eggman's legs, which are already part mushroom and firmly rooted.

"Oh...oh no."

"Boss! This...this can't be happening!"

"Unfortunately it is, Cubot. I'm afraid that spore cloud from earlier did me in."

"Then, why's Juliano converting? He didn't get hit at all during the fight!"

Juliano looks a way, and Mario sighs, "It's guilt, isn't it? The trigger mindset is deep-seated guilt. You're converting the normal way because of all those issues you keep hiding."

"...yeah, that's about the shape of it."

As everyone's processing this, Eggman clears his throat, "Cubot, seeing as I'm now out of commission, there's something we need to do."

"Huh?" he's confused for a moment, then realizes what Eggman means and reels back, "No, I-I'm not ready for that! You know what I'm like, I'll just screw it all up."

"Probably, yes, but we don't exactly have any alternatives. You're the last sentient underling I have left."

"I...alright." He hovers directly in front of Eggman and 'stands' at attention, "I'm ready, sir."

Eggman nods and also stands at attention, pulling up something on his tablet, "Let the record show that on this day, I, Doctor Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik, have been rendered unable to lead the glorious Eggman Empire. As such, I transfer my position as supreme ruler to Advisory Unit SA-56 "Cubot," until such time as I am able to resume my duties. Cubot, do you accept your new position, with full knowledge of all the responsibilities and privileges it entails?"

"I accept, Doctor."

"Then from this day forth, unless and until I am cured of my current affliction, you are now the leader of the Eggman Empire...such as it is at the moment." he hands over the tablet, "try not to screw it up too badly."

"You got it boss!" He puts the tablet away, then wrings his hands nervously, "Uh, could I..."

Eggman thinks it over for a moment, then sighs, "Oh, why not. Just for a few seconds though, you really do have to get going."

And so creator and creation hug, while what's left of the main crew says goodbye to their (technically if you don't count Bob's weird "actually centuries old" thing) eldest member, as well as to Shroomy, who decides to stay behind to continue his guide services, as well as look after Juliano, Eggman and Peach in case Drako Piranha comes back with a vengeance.

Next stop, one of the most dangerous Zones in the kingdom: Metal Madness's Robotropolis.

#smg4 #smg4 ocs #what a wonderful game au #the wonder arc #bomberto #toadsworth #smg4 tari #meggy spletzer #smg4 shroomy #eggman #juliano #petey piranha #moldy draco piranha #princess peach #lil coding #cubot #i told you pain was coming #sorry for the wait. this one gave me a lot of trouble for some reason #emotional weight has begun in earnest #which means we are now rapidly approaching the moment where things start REALLY going wrong #this is what happens when you don't properly address your issues juliano #well. maybe not usually this specific scenario but you know what i mean #the bob/meggy one-night-stand thing is now officially part of the au. instead of just random comedy bullshit

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shoulder

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Summary: Your Lyon injury

Pernille shrieks when it happens, turning away and hiding in Magda's arms.

It was hardly the first Champion's League final you had competed at (twice at Arsenal, one win and one loss and last year at Barcelona too) but it still filled Pernille with the same amount of pride every time she saw you on the pitch.

The corner kick came in and the world turned into slow motion.

One of the girls on the opposite team crashes into you, a clear foul as you come out of your goal to grab the ball. She knocks you back into your own goalposts and you go crashing to the floor.

Natalia grabs onto the railings in front of her, knuckles white, when Pernille finally peaks out of her hiding spot.

You're still on the ground when she looks and the whole box is filled with unease.

"Get up," Pernille hears Frido mutter through gritted teeth," Come on, get up."

Johanna has her hand clamped over her mouth as the medics rush on. Zećira has begun to pace slightly as Jessie looks a little sick.

Natalia is completely still, her hand clenched tightly around the railing as everyone watches the medics fuss over you.

You're saying something that no one can quite work out and you wince as they touch your shoulder.

"She'll be okay," Natalia says, looking around wildly," Right? She'll be okay?"

Her eyes are wide with horror and fear as she looks between all of the retired players surrounding her.

"I mean, it won't be bad, right? She's not really hurt."

"Natalia..." Magda says gently.

"No! She's going to be okay! She has to be okay!"

No one knows what to say to ease Natalia's clear distress as the medics helps you up and the ref gives a yellow card to the girl that fouled you.

You return to your goal but keep rolling your shoulder, the crinkle between your brow deepening.

"Something's wrong," Jessie says as play resumes," Something's definitely wrong. Her shoulder..."

"They need to take her off," Natalia says, shaking her head," She bounces back from injuries. It's bad."

No one refutes her as Lyon advances on Bayern's half. No one watches the ball, eyes focused solely on the way you're staring down at your arm like you're confused about something.

"They won't let her back on after halftime, right?" Frido asks no one in particular as Lyon finally break the deadlock.

"They've got no other choice," Zećira says," The whole reason she was loaned is because their other two keepers are long-term injured. Their next best choice is that eighteen-year-old who has a total of, what? Two games of experience? This is a final. They can't afford to not keep her on."

"It's going to get worse!" Natalia insists and Pernille briefly wonders if she ever looked like this, if those times that Magda got injured had manifested themselves on her face like how it was in Natalia's.

Her eyes are wild and she looks seconds away from jumping the barrier.

Pernille understands the feeling.

"She's going to be fine," Magda insists," She'll get checked at halftime and we'll see."

You don't go off at halftime.

Zećira's right.

Lyon has no other option, especially not against a team like Bayern who had knocked Barcelona out this year.

You're powering through it but it takes another knock in extra time to ruin it all.

You've just saved the penalty that one of your defenders had so carelessly given away when the girl from earlier comes storming towards you.

She's yelling at you and you stand firm.

Pernille can feel Magda's grip on her tighten when the girl grabs you by the shirt and slams you up against the goalposts.

The wounded sound coming out of your mouth is load enough that it causes the crowd to go silent for a moment.

Then, they erupt.

You fall to the ground and grab at your shoulder.

Johanna and Frido grab Natalia to stop her from leaping over the barrier and Zećira lets Jessie hide her face in her shoulder.

Magda's grip is iron tight as a similar wounded sound leaves Pernille's mouth in sympathy.

The medics rush on and you sit up.

The Bayern girl is shown a red card and walks off the pitch.

It gives Pernille time to inspect what's wrong. Your arm is lower than it should be and you scream out in pain as the medics touch it.

"Let go! Let go!" Natalia says," She's in pain! Let go of me!"

"You're no use to her right now," Frido replies," Don't do anything stupid."

You're sucking heavily on a green whistle and Pernille flinches as one of the medics pulls your arm up and out in front of you. The other stands behind you, bracing your back.

Slowly, they work the joint back into its socket.

You suck harder on the green whistle.

This isn't the first time you've dislocated your shoulder. The first was during one of your first matches for Sweden, back when you first faced Denmark as a member of the senior team in a round of friendlies.

You'd had your shoulder set after the game finished.

It's the first time that she's seen it set on the field.

Despite the green whistle numbing your pain, everyone can see the moment you feel the bone popping back into its socket.

The medics are talking to you and you keep nodding even as they fit your arm into a sling.

"No..." Johanna says as you get up," They've got to take her off, surely?"

"There's a minute on the clock," Jessie says when it becomes clear that nobody else is going to answer," You know what she's like. She'll wait it out."

It clear that the Lyon girls have the same idea because they don't even try to shoot for goal anymore. They just pass the ball between them aimlessly as the minutes count down.

Magda, Pernille and Natalia are all gone the moment the whistle blows, jumping over the railing as you walk off the pitch.

Natalia gets there first, tucking you into her as you rest your head on her shoulder.

"Does it hurt, amor?" She asks gently and you nod.

"I'm fine."

"No, no," She says just as soft as before," You will be fine. You're not fine just yet and that's okay."

That's what triggers it.

The tears you've been holding back roll down your cheeks as you sob into her shoulder, blubbering out a slew of Swedish and Danish that Natalia can't keep up with.

"It's all going to be okay," Talia says to you," I'm going to take care of you. You'll come home and I'm going to make it all okay, mi vida."

"You scared me, princesse," Pernille says as she approaches," What happened, huh? I though we'd gotten over this sticking out an injury."

You sniffle and look at your Momma from where you're resting your head on Natalia's shoulder. "Sorry, Momma. I...I didn't want to let anyone down."

"Keeping yourself safe isn't letting anyone down," Magda's stern voice says," I've half a mind to bring you home while you recover."

You frown. "But I'm going home anyway? I've been sending my stuff back to Spain for weeks now."

Talia chuckles. "You're so cute, amor. I think your mother means home to Sweden."

Your cheeks go red from embarrassment. "Oh."

Pernille rolls her eyes at Magda's look of annoyance (she never did quite get over the fact that you're an adult now). "Come on, princesse. I think you need to get some scans done before you get your medal."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

[soapybutt17]

The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

Masterlist || Request are Open

It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

~

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

~

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #ghost riley #simon riley fluff

[nochukoo97]

new beginnings

pairing: ceo!jungkook x figureskater!oc

warnings/summary: oc takes up a new job as a cashier, and she gets a CAT, jk is a little grumpy but he gets better, he’s also annoying by calling oc’s cat a cottonbud LOL, he calls her sweetheart, and oc has a little crushy crush on this hot neighbour, they bump into each other three times, basically they’re destined to meet each other even when they barely know each other

word count: 2.4k+ / TAGLIST OPEN

series masterlist!

“Goddamn, how many pieces of clothing do you own?” Yeji grunts as she helps to pull along two of your suitcases into her apartment’s lift.

“It’s all costumes for my competitions, my coach keeps insisting to keep them in case we need it in the future,” You internally sigh at the thought of your coach, she wasn’t bad by all means, but she constantly pushed you to your limits with countless competitions she enrolled you in. But after all, you didn’t come to Seoul and join the national team expecting a smooth and comfortable journey.

“Anyways, you’ve gotta tap the card right here,” She explains the whole crazy security system here, then passes you the access card to the apartment. One week ago you would’ve probably not expected to be in this situation, now moving in with your best friend, as well as her boyfriend who has begun to sleepover at her place more often than necessary. But right now if it meant that less money would fall out of your bank account, putting up with whatever third-wheeling you were about to go through would make it all worth it.

You pull your other two suitcases into the lift, noticing a man shuffling into the corner to make space for the two of you and your four huge suitcases. The lift door closes and there’s this deafening silence that fills the lift, with the way Yeji widens her eyes at you but says nothing, you assume it might be about the latter standing in the corner of the lift.

“What kind of signals were you trying to send me in there?” You whine when the lift door finally closes, as Yeji abandons the now-rolling-away suitcases to grab onto your hands.

“It’s rolling!” You exclaim, as she jumps slightly, your voice raising a little louder than usual in panic.

“Sorry-sorry, anyways, he’s the guy I told you about! Maybe I can set you up with him,” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, giving you the same taunting look she did when she had proposed moving into her apartment.

“No! I don’t even know that man, anyways with those looks he might already be taken,” You brush your best friend off, anyways, you didn’t want a relationship right? When Yeji had told you about the hot guy in her apartment, you had immediately brushed the idea of being set up off, since that’s exactly how you met your ex, and it definitely did not end on a good note.

“Oh, so you’re attracted to him?” She jogs in front of you to look you in the eye, seemingly much more excited at her sudden discovery than you.

“What? No I didn’t say that? I just- whatever! Open the door!”

She only smirks at your stuttering, but complies as she opens the front door to her unit, and you’re greeted with a familiar sight that you now need to get used to calling home.

-

People had always praised you for being dainty and sweet, always dressed up in elegant costumes during your competitions, your moves on ice had always charmed the audience with how smooth you twirled and jumped.

You would like to say that they might change their minds when they spot you in this current situation: no makeup on, eyebags peeking through, in a neon green vest as you stare at the rows of cigarettes behind the cashier.

The younger you would have never expected to end up working part time in this convenience store, but here you are.

But somehow it didn’t seem too bad, you were the only worker here, besides a sweet lady who comes and sweeps the floor every evening, and the best part: you got to control the music.

To be honest, you may have been enjoying yourself a little too much with the way you hum to the music as you drink the complimentary-one-a-day coffee your manager had given you.

“One pack of menthol,” Your sudden peace is abruptly disrupted as you whip your head around, jumping slightly as you hear the voice sound from behind you.

Oh. It’s the same man from the lift, this time he’s wearing another suit in a different colour, but this time he seems much more drained than before.

“I said-” He repeats himself again, noticing your spaced out look as you stare straight at him.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry sorry, it’s been a long day,” You quickly gather yourself, mentally cursing yourself for checking out the man in front of you so shamelessly, but he only scoffs at your little mistake.

He’s either a total dickhead or is just having a bad day. Hopefully its the latter since as much as you hate to admit it, maybe he perhaps has caught your attention.

But the same man quickly walks out of the store the moment you return his black credit card, as you’re now once alone in the store, gathering your things to finally end your shift.

-

It’s only a few days later where you meet your next crisis, or rather a blessing in disguise.

An innocent trip to the local fair turned into you signing adoption papers for this fluffy little furball that you absolutely could not leave. To be fair, you were mainly there to find some cute accessories to buy, but the newly put up adoption booth had caught your eye.

The moment your eyes had met the beady little eyes of the small white cat, you couldn’t say no. Even if it meant paying thrice your income from working at the convenience store, anything would be worth this cat.

But then again, your heart sank further once the lady at the counter had told you the animals put up were free to adopt, or else they would be euthanised the following day. It almost made you attempt to calculate just how much it would cost to take care of all the animals here, but in the end you had settled to just bring the cat home.

“Yeji, hypothetically how mad would you be on a scale of 1 to 10 if I brought a cat home?” You press your phone in between your shoulder and cheek as you wrap the little cat in its blanket, snuggling the animal close to your chest in hopes to provide it more warmth.

“You’re kidding me right now,” You hear her sigh at the other end, “What makes you think we can raise a cat? Let alone you working night shifts and being out at training in the day?”

She wasn’t wrong, but you’re pretty sure it’ll all be okay.

“Trust me, the lady managing the adoption booth told me cats are way more independent, we can get her an automatic feeder and I’ll need to get a litter box too, and maybe some toys and treats on the side too…”

She sighs again, “And that’ll cost a gajillion dollars, where are you going to get that from?”

“I’ll find a way, trust me,”

-

Truth to be told, the package deal you had got for litter and food was a little more pricey than you had anticipated, but you were confident that it would save you money in the future anyways.

Cloud, the newly named cat, of which you spent many hours deciding on a name for her, was easier to handle than expected, she often played with the little gadget toy Yeji had got her, and learnt how to use her litterbox in a day, which made you come to a conclusion that you had raised a genius.

But yet your oh-so-smart furkid may also be a little too intelligent, the absence of a certain cat in the apartment has now caused your anxiety and hysteria.

“How did she manage to escape with us not noticing again! The last time I saw her crawl through your legs but this time I swear she disappeared into thin air!” You’re on the verge of tears as you tell Yeji, who only rubs her palm up and down your back as a offering of comfort.

“But you’ve got her tagged up, your number and her name is attached to her collar, I’m sure anyone who finds her will definitely call you immediately,” She tells you, watching as you now begin to hiccup, tears forming and rolling down your cheeks.

“What if she got run down by a car? Or some psychopath who hates cats found her? Oh my poor baby, she must be missing me already,” There’s a million different scenarios that play through your head, all leading to Cloud ending up in nowhere else but cat heaven.

“She’ll be fine, calm down, my friend’s cat often runs out of the house but the cat always returns every few days, some of them prefer to go out and explore, perhaps Cloud is the same,”

You can only sigh and hope for the best.

-

unknown number: hey

unknown number: did you lose a cat?

You gasp to yourself when your eyes scan the new text that had appeared on your screen, someone had found her.

you: YES

you: DON’T DO ANYTHING TO HER PLEASE

you: i promise ill pay anything for you not to do anything

Your heart beats frantically in your chest watching the three dots appear and disappear over and over again. There was no way a psychopath had truly found Cloud and already decided to perform whatever possible traumatic procedure on her right?

unknown number: why would i do anything to it??

unknown number: in fact your cat is the one who had run into my apartment and marked her territory all over.

Oh. That was the last thing you had expected.

you: do you have a litter box in your house?

The three dots taunt you as they appear once and pause for a good minute, as if whoever is on the other side is pondering hard to answer your simple question.

unknown number: what kind of question is that??

unknown number: i dont own a cat, why tf would i own a litter box??

You frown at the reply, you were grateful he didn’t do anything to Cloud, but a simple no would be great.

you: just send me your address!!

you: i need to see if she’s alright, she probably is crying for me right now

unknown number: it’s sleeping peacefully under my bed right now, i dont think its upset at all.

unknown number: here’s the address: xxx

You sigh in relief when you realise it’s the unit above your apartment, which meant she couldn’t have gone too far.

you: first of all, you never know if she’s crying in her heart

you: second of all, stop calling Cloud an it!!! she has a name and she is a girl

you: third of all, im coming upstairs im in the same apartment complex

You roll your eyes when a reply comes in faster than it did before, mostly because it’s an insult to your cat:

unknown number: who names a cat cloud?? she looks more like a cotton bud, hurry and get her.

-

When you reach the floor above you, you’re met with a black door, no doorbell in sight. So you simply knock, sure that it had been the person that found Cloud since it was the only unit on the floor.

What you didn’t expect is to be met with the same man you saw whilst working at the convenience store. Instead he’s in a loose shirt and some shorts, hair not styled as a few pieces of bangs fall over his eyes. His presence daunts you a little, considering how darkly lit his place was, and how he towered over you.

“Oh? So we meet again,” He seems to recognise you as he steps aside, watching as you take off your bedroom slippers, which you now curse at yourself for wearing since it was pink and fluffy.

You think you hear a little laugh when he spots your slippers but you choose to believe he didn’t anyways.

“Where is my baby?” You step in now, taking in the view of his place. It’s a little larger than Yeji’s apartment, and the interior seems… lacking some colour. It’s mostly black and grey furniture, with hints of marble and some white chairs here and there, but it’s a total opposite of your apartment.

“Don’t think she cares enough to be your baby, but your baby pissed all over my balenciaga shoes and my dumbbells,” He deadpans, nodding his head to show you the dark pair of shoes that now hang at the window, you assume to dry them out.

“Your what shoes?!” You almost turn pale at the mention of the designer brand, there’s no way he might ask you to get him a new pair right?

“Forget about that, go and get Cottonbud out of my room,” He walks into the hallway, looking back once to check if you follow him.

“What did you just call her?!” You yell at him from behind as he enters a room, a bed coming into sight and a much too familiar tail that sticks out from under the bed.

“Cloud!” You’re far too busy attempting to reunite with your cat to bother hearing another reply from the man, but the moment you come closer to the swaying tail, Cloud dashes away from your grasp and hides at the very deep end from under the bed.

“Looks like someone isn’t too keen on seeing you,”

You whip around, a frown on your face as you are met with the man who smirks, almost taunting you.

“Shut up,”

“What’re you gonna do now then? The cat’s gone further under the bed, I can’t reach there either,” He has his hands on his hips, standing and waiting for your reply.

His gaze and posture makes you feel small, and not having a single clue what to do fuels this feeling in you. And perhaps add some butterflies in too and it’ll perfectly describe how you are feeling.

“I- I don’t know! I’ve never had to deal with this situation before!” You’re pacing up and down, glancing at the bed, hoping Cloud would magically pop out and leap into your arms so you can run home away from this man.

“Well I’ve got all day sweetheart, you can slowly find a way to get Cottonbud out of my house,”

“Her name is not Cottonbud!”

“Whatever,”

TAGLIST: @skzthinker @cherrysainttt @vminkookgf @lilaissa @jjeonjjk7 @armystay89 @canyon-lwt @junecat18

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts #boyfriend jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook x you

[spiriteddreams]

thinking about childhood friends to enemies/strangers to friends to lovers arranged marriage with jing yuan. as a child, you could have never imagined that you would marry your "childhood best friend!" and you find yourself caught in an arranged marriage that is nothing but words on a paper signed by both your parents. the older you grow, the more you realize how easy it is to fall in love with him.

but all too quickly, you realize how hard it is to be in love with him. jing yuan decides to join the cloud knights suddenly and is whisked off to war. when he returns and rises the rank of general, he is quiet in calling off the marriage. everyone assumes that the two of you have grown up and decided that perhaps the marriage is simply not right. to everyone else, you both are still friendly with one another. behind closed doors, you meet his stare with icy eyes, demanding for a reason behind this sudden decision. he says he doesn't feel it to be of any convenience to either of you, that he doesn't want to force either of you to be in love with one another but oh how wrong he is.

he refuses to admit that the reason that he called it off was because he felt that you didn't deserve someone who would constantly be whisked off to battle. you don't deserve someone so dedicated to work that he is willing to sacrifice all his time for the success of the xianzhou. your cold shoulder has begun to show in public but before any outlandish rumours can start, jing yuan strikes first. he is snarky and petty with his words until you finally agree to calling it off. to everyone else, and to you, it is a falling out. to him, it is every deliberate action taken to keep you safe from danger, from him.

but of course, he wouldn't expect you to strike back fast, leaving him with nothing but a letter and a promise ring that held nothing but false words and lies. you leave the xianzhou to join a crew called the astral express and are whisked far away from him. but as fate should have it, you return years later, older, wiser, and seemingly colder towards him as if you had just come from a planet caught in an eternal freeze and brought that ice with you.

and when jing yuan sees you again, his first thought is to make amends. they say that distance makes the heart grow fonder so perhaps you'll be just as inclined as he is. and perhaps, you'll let him slip that ring back on your finger like he did when you were young. but when you stand across from him with your new companions, one hand resting at your side and the other looking just about ready to draw your weapon, jing yuan realizes that maybe this won't be as easy as he thinks.

there is new conflict in the xianzhou and you both become torn between rebuilding years of distance and focusing on solving the problem at hand. old wounds are torn open, new friendships are thrown into the mix, and familiar faces from the past return to rub salt in.

you'll make it as difficult for him as possible as you grapple with your own emotions. you are just as stubborn as he is, and after years away, you've learned to better keep your emotions in check. but you're nonetheless a fool around him, and your friends know all too well about the boy you fell in love with. the same boy stands in front of you today as general of the xianzhou luofu, jing yuan, your dreamy, silky haired, animal loving, ex-fiance. oh how are you supposed to hide your heart when it's stitched upon your sleeve?

haha... what went from an oc idea turned into a post studying 1am drabble good night!

#honkai star rail #hsr #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

[minkyungseokie]

When Nothing Goes Right | LS2

synopsis; Y/n, Logan's long-distance gf, surprises him at the AusGP, but things aren't as happy as they should be

warnings; none

note; requested

note 2; Y/n has no mentioned race but doesn't know English. Jackson is an Oc and the reader’s older brother

Let me know whether you prefer first person or third person pov Please be nice. I haven't written in years and this is my first time writing for F1

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Logan Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

It had been a few years since Y/n and Logan had begun dating. The two met as children after Y/n had started karting herself. They immediately hit off and stuck to each other like glue. Wherever Y/n was, you'd find Logan not far behind with a big smile on his face.

Their families could already tell that the two would be something more in the future. Your older siblings even started a bet on how long it would take for the two to fully understand their feelings and confess. Neither of them won because it only took them until the sixth grade to realize that what they felt wasn't platonic. They didn't understand their feelings fully, but they knew that they were no one just friends.

Everything has been perfect until Logan's career in karting began popping off and he soon entered F4. To make matters worse, Y/n's parents had split and decided that Y/n would go with her mother back to their home country. Dalton and Jackson thought it'd ruin the relationship the two youngest siblings had built and they'd break up, which would break the two since they were madly in love even if they fully couldn't understand what love was, but that wasn't the case.

Despite the distance between them, Y/n and Logan had decided to stay together and find long distance a try even though their parents, siblings, friends, cousins, and neighbours warned them that long distance was hard. Even people online said that long distance wasn't the best idea because it tended to end with one or both partners cheating on each other, however; Y/n and Logan trusted each other with their lives, so they decided to give it a chance.

                     •⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•

Now, Logan was a driver in Formula One and Y/n was studying at Uni. During their time apart, they'd only seen each other at least twice. Even though they haven't seen each other properly in years, they have only grown fonder of each other.

As the saying goes, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder"

Y/n plopped down on her bed in nothing but a towel, answering a FaceTime call that came in on her computer, "Hey, you." Y/n greeted happily, "Hey, babe. I'm sorry to call you so late. I know you're probably busy and tired from work..." Logan sighed. "No! You're fine, love. I just got out of the shower. Anyway, what's up?" Y/n asked, removing the towel off her head and running a hand through her hair, "Nothing much. I just wanted to see you." Logan flirted, giving Y/n a smile.

Y/n stood up from the bed and began towelling herself off, "That's cute. If I'm not wrong, the Australian GP is coming up. How do you feel?" Y/n questioned. "I'm excited. To be honest, I want doing well last year. But it's a new year and you know how I worked hard during the break, so I'm ready. Speaking of the Australian GP, do you think that you can come watch?" Logan hesitantly asked, looking down before looking back at Y/n, who was now sitting on her bed in pyjamas.

"I...Logie, you know I'd love to..." Y/n hesitantly started, "I know. You have work and school, but you have never come to a GP before. I want you to come to support me at least once. But I understand. I don't want to force or coerce you to do anything you can't or don't want to do. You'll eventually come to one, right?" Logan asked. "Of course. I plan on coming as soon as I have the time to." Y/n promised.

She kept thinking about the fact that she had never attended one of Logan's races and began feeling like a shit girlfriend, so she ended up DMing Logan's childhood friend whom she had only heard about from Logan, Oscar Piastri and he somehow got her in contact with Alex Albon, Logan's teammate. Together the three made plans to sneak Y/n into the GP without Logan noticing.

It wasn't hard.

She had notified her job and her school of her trip and packed for Australia. She got on a plane as soon as she could, which ended up being the afternoon of FP2,dropped her things off at the hotel, leaving it behind the desk so she could share a room with Logan, and made her way to the track with a VIP pass in her hand.

The girl was practically vibrating as she walked through the paddock by herself. She was supposed to be looking for Oscar or Alex, but she was way too excited to see her boyfriend again. Luckily, Alex spotted her while she was roaming the paddock, "Hey! You're Y/n, right? Logan's girlfriend?" The man asked, approaching her, "Oh, yes. You must be Alex. The teammate." Y/n said, holding out a hand for Alex to shake.

The British Thai driver looked down at her hand before taking it and giving it a firm shake, "It's lovely to meet you. Logan's been talking about you. A lot." Alex said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if he was annoyed, but he truthfully enjoyed seeing his teammate talk about someone who made him happy and kept him sane while he was having a shit year. "Hey, mate. Is this her?" Another voice asked, but this time it was with a strong Australian accent.

Y/n turned to see a brunette in an orange and black shirt approaching them, "You must be the Oscar Piastri that I heard so much about." Y/n said, reaching out fit his hand. Oscar smiled and shook her hand, "I am. You must be Y/n. Logan talks about you a lot." Oscar commented. "So I've been told. It's lovely seeing something other than the pictures Logan sent to me when you guys were younger." Y/n chuckled.

"Come on. FP2 is starting soon and we want you to reunite as quickly as possible." Alex said, leading you towards the garage with Oscar following behind, "So how long have you two been together?" Oscar questioned. "We've been dating for eleven years, I believe. Since we were twelve." Y/n answered, "Eleven years! That's a long time." Alex awed

Once they were close by, Y/n’s heart began to race. She hid behind Alex and Oscar so she was hidden while Oscar pulled out his phone to film the interaction, “Logan, mate! Come here.” Alex called, “What? Do you need something?” Logan asked, voice getting closer as he walked up to them. “We noticed you were feeling a bit nervous, so we brought you something to cheer you up.” Oscar spoke, “What is it?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. “Why don’t you guess?” Alex suggested, “Just tell me.” Logan said, “Come on, have a bit of fun with it. Guess.” Alex insisted.

“Just give me whatever it is, mate.” Logan groaned, Y/n chuckled and tapped the boys on their arms, signaling for them to step aside. Logan watched as Alex and Oscar shared a look before stepping aside to reveal his girlfriend. Logan’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened, “Surprise!” Y/n cheered, giving the American jazz hands. Logan ran towards Y/n and scooped her up into his arms.

“You’re here! You told me—“ “That I wouldn’t be able to come. I lied.” Y/n said, burying her face into his shoulder. Logan put her on the ground and bent down, kissing Y/n softly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He muttered, “And I’ve missed you, my love.” Y/n responded, kissing all over Logan’s face. “Logan, Alex, it’s time for free practice.” A engineer called out, “Go out there and do your thing. I’ll be rooting for you.” Y/n said, cupping Logan’s face and connecting their lips.

•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•

Y/n stood in the garage with headphones covering her ears. She couldn’t understand why she never came to a race weekend before, it was exhilarating. She could tell that her boyfriend wasn’t the best on the grid, but she knew he want the worse. It was just amazing to see him in his element, “Go, Logan!” Y/n muttered, clenching the chord between her fingers.

Y/n frowned as an odd feeling settled in her stomach. Y/n put a hand on her stomach and focused on the screen, attempting to ignore the feeling. Something was going to go wrong and she didn’t know what or when. Unfortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long to find out because Alex crashed his car, “Oh shit.” Y/n hissed, biting down in her knuckle.

“Hey, Alex. Are you alright?” Y/n asked, looking at the British Thai driver with concern. “I’m fine.” Alex answered walking away, obviously upset by the accident.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for him, knowing that it absolutely sucks to crash even if she never watched or read up on the sport before.

Y/n made took off her headphones as Logan came back to the garage and jogged up to the American man, “That was so cool! I feel sorry for Alex, but that was so cool! I can’t wait to see you actually racing.” Y/n rambled, grabbing Logan’s hands on hers. While she rambled, Logan just smiled down at her with the softest gaze, “Do you want to go out after this? Or we can go to my hotel room? Have you gotten yourself one?” Logan asked, cupping your cheek.

“We should stay in. Catch up everything we missed and couldn’t talk about on the phone and no, I don’t have my own hotel room. Although, if I did, it probably won’t be getting used.” Y/n tittered. “Let me go get changed and we can go back to the hotel.” Logan said, kissing Y/n’s forehead before rising off to his driver’s room.

Y/n waited and waited, but it seemed like Logan was not coming out, which worried her. Did he get hurt or something? What was teasing so long? Y/n was leaning against the side of the garage, waiting for any sign of her boyfriend, but there was nothing. Until Alex came out, looking conflicted, “Hey, Alex. Where’s Logan?” Y/n questioned, pushing off the wall, “Um, he’s on his drivers room. He’s, uh, not happy right now, so maybe it’s better if you go see him.” Alex suggested.

He pointed out which room was his and continue on with his day, which didn’t really seem out of the ordinary to Y/n. She approached his door and knocked gently, “Logan? Is it alright if I come in?” Y/n called in a gentle voice. It was quiet for a moment before she heard a croaky, “Yeah.” Come from inside.

Y/n opened the door to see Logan sitting on the bench looking distressed, “Oh, what happened? Are you okay? Alex told me you were upset.” Y/n rushed over to her boyfriend, bombarding him with questions out of worry. Logan shook his head, “Alex wrecked his car,” Logan started, “Yeah, I saw that, but what does that have to do with you?” Y/n questioned, kneeling down in front of Logan and grabbing his hands.

“We don’t have a spare chassis, so they’re taking mine and giving it to Alex.” Logan sighed, “What?!” Y/n practically screeched, her confusion and weird turning into anger. “They said that since Alex is the better and more experienced driver, he most likely get the team points.” Logan explained further, “That’s stupid.” Y/n said bluntly, “Y/n…”

“No, don’t “Y/n…” me. I get that Alex it’s better and has more experience, but that’s that dumbest fucking decision I’ve ever heard. That’s like rewarding someone for fucking shit up! He crashed his chassis to the point where it had to be retired, so you have to give up yours? That’s bullshit, Logan!” Y/n argued. “I’m aware. I’ve given my all to this team. I worked myself to the bone during winter break when I could’ve been with you because I wanted it to be beneficial to this team. They are all aware of it.

James said he believed in me. James said he knew that I could go far if I just had a little more time in the car. But it doesn’t seem that way. Maybe I’m just not good enough.” Logan sniffed. Y/n wrapped her arms around Logan’s neck, placing his head on her chest and rubbing his back, “Shut up, Logan. Don’t you dare continue saying those things about yourself. You are good enough. If you weren’t, you would have been chosen for this team in the first place.”

“But—“

“No buts. The previous Williams owner saw something in you that no one else saw and picked you from Formulas Two to drive in Formula One. If you weren’t good enough, he most definitely wouldn’t have chosen you so early. James know he’s dead wrong for this. James know that this is going to be a blow to you, but he thinks getting points is more valuable than your growth. I’m sorry to say this, my love, but you honestly deserve so much better. It’s not your fault that Alex crashed the car. It’s not your fault that this team is so broke that it can’t afford another chassis.” Y/n angrily said, raising her voice before taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. You’re upset and I’m over here ranting.” Y/n quieted down, pressing a kiss too the crown of Logan’s head, “It’s okay, babe. It’s what has to be done for the team to gain some points. It’s whatever.” Logan shrugged, “ no, it’s not whatever, but I’m not gonna continue talking about this. Instead, let’s go to the hotel and order food. We can watch our favorite movies together and cuddle until you feel better.” Y/n said, lifting Logan’s head so his eyes met her and giving him a calming smile.

Logan smiled, albeit it was a sad one, but a smile nonetheless, “I’d like that.” He said, “Good. And since you’re not racing tomorrow, maybe we can do a bit more than cuddling. But that’s only if you’re comfortable and willing.” Y/n teased, pulling Logan up from his seated position, “I’d really like that. Thank you for being here for me and I’m sorry you came all this way only to not see me race.” Logan apologized, “Bah, I do anything for you. It doesn’t matter whether you are racing or not, I’m still here for you and I’d still come. Y/n waved off his apology

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Now let’s go.”

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #logan sargeant x reader #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #ls2 fic #ls2 fluff #williams formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 fluff #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x fem!reader #formula one imagine

[kooktrash]

Fighting heart mc has a little accident at home and needs to go to the hospital (maybe for stitches?) and jk calls her and nurse pick it up and says that she’s in hospital 😌 And of course he got panicked and rushed to the hospital and even after he saw that she’s perfectly fine he can’t help but cry because of the fear and all those ugly emotions (and he thought that something big happened to her) 😭😭 And of course he wouldn’t stop gushing over her and be her ‘yes man’

oooof I missed these two idk. jk has always been the more stressed out one so I could def see him completely losing his shit while oc is like “🤷🏽‍♀️Shit happens” he def makes a bigger deal out of it.

FIGHTING HEART

warnings: mentions of bl**d, oc cuts her leg with glass. jk gets anxiety from it. oc needed stitches 2.4K words.

You never considered yourself a handy man of any sort. You hate getting your hands dirty and you hate doing any sort of hard labor at all—it’ll mess up your manicure, but today you didn’t have much of a choice. You had just been lounging around your apartment all day with Jimin who decided he would come over and keep you company. Your boyfriend, Jungkook, has been stuck training lately because he’s got a big fight coming up and Jin has been really strict on him because of it. Even if he won’t admit it, you know he’s been stressed because if he wins, he’ll win big.

Jungkook has finally begun to really establish himself as a real boxer and right now he’s getting so many calls from just about anyone in the boxing world looking to set a match with him. He’s so close to being the lightweight champion and you know it’s been a lot of pressure on him so all you’ve wanted to do was show him your support and show him he could rely on you.

Maybe that’s why you decided to tackle this issue on your own today.

“You’re scaring me, Y/n,” Jimin said as he watched you stand on your kitchen counter trying to switch out a lightbulb, “If you fall Jungkook is going to kill me.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you turned to him with the huge, heavy lightbulb in your hands, “Stop being so negative, I’m very capable of changing a lightbulb, thank you very much.”

Jimin released a sigh, “I mean… if you say so.”

Jungkook was exhausted, his body ached everywhere and all he wanted to do was drive over to you, pull you into a bath with him and hopefully fall asleep after. Lately it feels like all he’s done is train with Hobi and right now he just wants to stop it all and go see you.

Of course he’s thankful for all the opportunities he’s been given in life but right now he just wants to be selfish and hang out with the love of his life without worrying about the newest brand deal—which right now, Calvin Klein has been blowing up Jin’s phone to sign the new and upcoming boxer as a brand ambassador. He thinks he’ll do it but only if he can get you signed on as well, it’s not like they would say no with the connections you have. Maybe he’ll talk to you about it tonight.

“Alright Kook, you wanna rest up tonight because tomorrow we’re doing it all over again,” Hoseok said to him as they walked toward their parked cars ready to end today’s session, “Are you going to see Y/n?”

“That’s the plan,” Jungkook said, already taking his phone out to call you, “I’m thinking we’ll get dinner and after that probably just lounge around.”

They said their goodbyes and once Jungkook was in the privacy of his car, he called you. Lately, he’s been so busy he almost feels guilty for not being able to see you. You’re so supportive and loving and all he wants to do is spend all his time with you but he’s finally doing something with his life and it’s all because of you so he just continues to push himself to his limits. He wants to be with someone worthy of you, no matter how many times you assure him you’ll love him no matter what.

You chose him over anyone else, even when you saw his poor living conditions with leaking roofs and broken cabinets. You stayed with him when you saw him lose control at an underground fight club. You’ve chosen him and he loves you so much that he misses you anytime he’s away.

When the call went to voicemail he couldn’t help but be confused, you told him you would just be home today so he wondered why you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you were sleeping or not around your phone, so he called you again just to be sure.

“Hello?”

Jungkook pulled the phone away from his ear, looking down at the screen to make sure he had in fact called you and not whatever guy was currently answering the phone, “Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” Jimin cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, this is Jimin.”

He released a breath in relief, “Oh, where’s Y/n?”

“Um,” Jimin bit his lip nervously as he looked behind him. Jungkook waited for him to speak but the longer he stayed quiet the more worried he got. Why did Jimin answer your phone and why did he seem so nervous?

“Y/n can’t really answer the phone right now,” Jimin said, already imagining your overprotective boyfriend plunging his fist into Jimin’s pretty head, “She had an accident an—“

“What?” Jungkook hit the brakes hard, completely forgetting he was trying to drive out of the parking lot, “What do you mean accident? Where is she?”

“We’re at the hospital right now, they’re giving her stitches—“

“Where?” Jungkook’s voice dropped to a low octave as his blood ran cold. He barely listened to the hospital Jimin told him before he was hanging up and speeding toward you. He ran a couple red lights but he didn’t even care. He felt his anxiety begin to spike up to the point where his chest tightened painfully and it was getting hard for him to breathe.

Getting to the hospital all happened in a blur, he went straight to the E.R section and he knew that the nurse behind the counter thought he looked crazy.

He was drenched in sweat from training and his eyes were red, his hands shaky and his voice cracked when he asked what room you were in.

“She’s just finishing up surgery and she’ll be out soon, I’ll take you to where the friend is waiting,” the nurse said and he anxiously followed after her, biting his lip so hard that it bled. The elevator ride felt like an eternity and he ignored the nurse’s warning not to run as he searched for Jimin who sat outside the room with his head down.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked and there was no denying the panic in his voice. Jimin shot up out of his seat looking a little scared by the way Jungkook glared at him. Jimin bit his lip, “We were in her kitchen and Y/n was trying to change a stupid lightbulb and—“

“Ow!”

Jungkook looked to the room, the blinds were closed so he couldn’t even look in and the door was shut, “Oh my god, did she fall?”

Jimin nodded subtly, “Y/n dropped the bulb and I think it s-scared her and she ended up falling a-and, glass was everywhere a—“

“What the fuck were you doing?!” Jungkook yelled louder than he meant to and others immediately turned to him with worry. Jimin’s eyes widened at the way Jungkook grabbed at him and once Jungkook realized what he was doing, he immediately let him go, “I’m sorry, Jimin. Sorry… b-but, if something happens to Y/n…”

“I know man,” Jimin put a hand on his shoulder, “She’s just getting a few stitches and she’ll be out soon. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook sat down with his head in his hands, hiding himself as he shut his eyes trying to get his brain to shut up. He knows that you’ll be fine but he can’t help but imagine the worse. He’s been so busy lately and he told you he would switch the stupid lightbulb for you and just kept forgetting. This is all his fault. All of it.

The thought of you being hurt in even the slightest way made him sick to his stomach. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. He’s supposed to keep you safe and be there for you and he hasn’t been and he feels so fucking shitty because all he can picture right now is your fall. How bad was it? How did it happen? Jimin said there was glass everywhere…

How hurt were you?

It felt like years passed before they were finally let into the room. Jimin stood behind with guilt written all over his face as Jungkook went right to your side, immediately holding your face in his hands, “Baby, tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you said with a smile as you looked down at your leg, “Just a couple stitches, nothing too bad.”

“Six stitches and a large piece of glass in her heel,” the doctor said as he looked down at his paperwork. Jungkook was hovering over you with his forehead pressed against yours, “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” You asked brushing his sticky hair out of his face, “I’m fine.”

“She did great,” the doctor said, finally getting Jungkook’s attention, “We’re going to prescribe something for the pain and finish up some paperwork. We have a pair of crutches Y/n could use but she should be healed in about three weeks. As of right now, I’d say put as little weight on her foot as possible, it was a big fall and she’s definitely bruised up.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jungkook said and you looked at him. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked down at your boyfriend who lifted your knuckles to his lips and kissed the top of them. You could see his reddened eyes and when he looked up at you it was clear he was crying, this is the second time you’ve seen your strong boyfriend cry and it broke you.

“Jimin,” you looked to your friend, “Can you give us a minute?”

The doctor took that as his cue to go get the paperwork and leave with your friend until it was just you and Jungkook. “Baby,” you called to him once you were alone and he allowed himself to fully break down against your hospital bed, “What’s wrong? Are you mad? I know you told me to wait b-but, I just wan—“

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, tears falling down his cheeks, “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I keep telling you over and over again that I want to be someone you deserve and I just keep disappointing you.”

You sat up suddenly, wincing a little as you shifted your leg and Jungkook immediately looked up with fear, “Jungkook, this isn’t your fault at all. This was an accident, I was being impatient. Even Jimin told me it was a bad idea but I wanted to prove that I could do things on my own, obviously not bu—“

“Baby, you’re so strong and you don’t even know it,” Jungkook said as he sat down on the edge, careful not to take up too much room, “So strong and smart that you can do anything. I just… I should’ve just done it the first time you told me.”

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” You combed his hair back before wiping his tears away with your thumb, “And shouldn’t I be the one crying? I just got six stitches.”

Jungkook sniffled as he leaned forward and pulled you into a tight hug, “I was so scared, baby, so fucking scared that something horrible happened and I just… I just couldn’t get over the fact that I wasn’t around.”

Your eyes met his and to help him calm down, and remind him he won’t lose you, you kissed him. Jungkook kissed you back wantonly, hand in your hair and salty tears on his tongue, “I love you so much.”

The wait for the paperwork took forever and Jimin sat in the corner of the room watching you and Jungkook. He had been so exhausted from his training that when he rested his head on your chest, he fell asleep.

“You’ve got a very concerned boyfriend on your hands,” the nurse said once she returned, “I hear he caused a commotion downstairs and out in the hall just worried sick about you.”

“I’m sure he did,” you said in a whisper, brushing a finger against his cheek that had him waking up slowly, eyes hazy as he looked up at you.

“Alright, well just follow the doctor’s orders, once the numbing block wears off you’ll feel some pain because you sprained your ankle. We’ll do a follow up in about a week, how does that sound? Now I need the one she’ll be leaving with to sign these documents.

“Sounds good, we’ll be here,” Jungkook had your hand in his as he signed the paper with his free hand, there were crutches in her hands and she was motioning for you to try and sit up. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to tuck an arm under your back and the other one under your knees before he was lifting you up.

“No need for crutches?” The nurse asked, watching Jungkook pick you up with ease. Jimin took them from her with a thank you, “I guess not.”

“Babe, I can walk,” you tried telling him as he cradled you in his arms, “I’m heavy.”

“Shh, I’ve made guys bigger than you tap out with one punch,” Jungkook said as he carried you to the elevator with Jimin hot on your trails, “I think I’m capable of carrying my injured girlfriend to the car.”

When you got to the hotel you lived at, Jungkook had yet to let your feet touch the car even once. He helped you to bed using a pillow to rest your leg and making sure you were comfortable as he ran around looking for things you might need.

You giggled, “Kook, I’m not paralyzed, I can walk, just give me some time.”

“I know you’re strong babe but I really don’t want you over exerting yourself,” he said, “Just tell me what you want and I’ll go do it.”

“I still need the lightbulb fixed.”

“On it.”

Jungkook ran out to the kitchen, nearly crying again once he saw the mess on your perfectly polished marble floors. Once again he was reminded that you had probably been in a lot of pain and he wasn’t around. There was blood mixed with thin glass all over the floor and he went to your supply closet to get the cleaning supplies. If Jimin wasn’t around, what would have happened? Would you have forced yourself to stand and call an ambulance? Would you have called him or would you think he was too busy to answer?

The next morning Jungkook did not leave your side one bit. He called Hobi and told him he wouldn’t make it to training and spent his day doing everything he could for you.

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura a @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook one shot #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook request #kooktrash requests

[bunnyscone]

ok so a male yandere vampire who kidnaps fem reader but is very patient with her. he doesnt force her to do anything and lets her set the pace... until she starts her period. he just keeps eating her out over and over, apologizing the whole time bc "he just cant help himself"

Hiiiii!! thank you for your ask!! I love vampires!! Especially yandere ones! I plan on doing a little ramble/fic or whatever you wanna call it on this :) I kinda ran off with the idea, lol, but this was fun to write♡♡

Male! Vampire! OC x Female! Reader!

kinks: Hematolagnia, Menophilia, Dub-con(?), Praise Kink(?), Pussy and Cunt (mentions). Female Reader! (MxF)

By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you are 18+ and are fine with reading dark/sensitive content. (Don't like? Don't read.)

OC: Vincent (Male! Vampire!) - Words: 313 - Proofread? Nope :)

"I... I'm sorry my dear..."

The soft whisper of his voice comes beneath you, the feeling of his heavy breath hitting your clothed cunt. His nails dig into you as he draws himself closer, his cheek resting against your thigh. A soft whimper escapes his throat as he lets out a heavy breath, mumbling out to you with a groan, "You... you just smell so good, my dear..."

You let out a squeak as he plants a heavy kiss on your inner thigh, nibbling at the soft skin. "Please... just let me have a taste...?" He mumbles out again, his tongue pressed up against your clothed clit, his thick salvia pooling and soaking the already bloody mess your aching cunt made.

It's been weeks since Vincent had actually last touched you, too nervous and worried about scaring you off and ruining his chance with you. Yet suddenly now that your cycle has begun, you're all he seems to want to grasp and hold, no longer caring about how patient he might need to be around you. Your touch-starved body seems to agree with his grasping and holding, leaning towards him unknowingly each time he moves closer, holding you to him.

"A... Alright..." You mumble out, shakingly nodding your head as you slowly grind your cunt against his face, the feeling of it leading you to feel even more needy. He lets out an excited whimper, pulling you even closer as he frees your cunt, moaning softly at the sight of the bloodied and aching hole. His hand comes up, his fingers pushing open your labia as he eagerly laps up into you.

You whimper and clench around his tongue, your cunt fluttering around him as he drinks up more of your blood and juices, his thumb coming up to circle and rub your clit as you moan.

"Good girl... You taste so good..."

mwahhhhhhhhhhhhh love youuuuuuuuu ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა♡♡♡♡

#female reader #yandere #🧸scones.oc #🧸scones.request #yandere smut #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you

[withahappyrefrain]

Ready & Eager

Summary: Jake finally has the honor of making out with you. He's excited. A little too excited. Part of the Parking Spots Universe but can be read alone!

Warnings: dry humping, Jake being a simp for mean women, Faceless OC so y'all can imagine yourself as her, some light smut. If you don't know what Polly Pockets are, GTFO.

This is dedicated to @dissonannce, who put this thot in my head many moons ago and it has not left my mind since! <3

Jake Seresin knows a thing or two about luck.

Like how it only plays a small part in most things. Personally, Jake believes luck accounts for maybe ten percent of it. The rest is all skill and effort. That's how he became the only pilot in his generation with two confirmed air kills. 

And yet, Jake can't help but feel pretty damn lucky that the woman of his dreams is currently in his lap, kissing him.

Tonight had already been perfect. They had gone on a date. It wasn't the first time he had gone on a date with her, but it was the first time Venus had acknowledged it as one. Not a parking lesson, a date.

It was a big deal, huge. To say Jake was nervous was an understatement.

To say he was excited? Even moreso.

Her touch was electric, sending sparks throughout his body.  The scent of cocoa that lingered on her soft skin was intoxicating, now all consuming. What had begun as soft, feathery kisses had developed into something more heated. 

It was sweet, downright adorable how she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, barely able to look at Jake when he walked her to her door. 

"I shouldn't be nervous," the goddess chuckled, "Considering you have no issue barging into my apartment." 

The chuckle Jake had let out was supposed to be smooth. Supposed to be. 

Instead, it was nervous, shakey. He was thankful that he hadn't yet fallen to his knees in front of his beloved Venus. 

"You were sick," He smiled, his face burning up. 

"So does that mean you'll at least wait until I invite you in this time?" A sly smile adorn her gorgeous features, a gleam of mischievousness illuminating her eyes. 

"I can wait as long as you need me to, V." If she was blushing, Jake couldn't tell due to her sun kissed skin. 

A giggle slipped past her lips as she stepped inside the door, "Well? You coming or not, Lieutenant?" 

Jake could only choke out a strained yes, too caught up in how her voice was sweeter than honey when she said his title correctly for the first time since that fateful meeting in that parking lot. 

The two had all but stumbled to the couch, too caught up in discovering how exhilarating, how downright euphoric it was to kiss one another. 

He lost track of how long they had spent on the couch, tomorrow morning's briefing meeting be damned. Jake was positive, no- he knew he would be content staying here, his body melding with hers. 

She lowered her hips ever so slightly. Such a subtle movement and yet it nearly sent Jake over the edge.

God knows how many times he thought about this-his lips capturing hers in a bruising kiss, his hands exploring her soft curves.

Jake had lost track of how many times he came while imagining this-how her breasts would feel pushed against his chest, his hands finally having the privilege to grip the soft flesh of her ass, her lips nipping along his neck, her hands gripping his hair- 

Fuck, he was hard. Painfully so. 

In the back of Jake's mind, a voice was screaming to slow down. But his hips continued to jerk up, desperate to meet hers, desperate to feel more of her. 

So instead of slowing down, he continued, his lips trying to find hers amidst the fainting light of the sunset. His whole body was buzzing from the sensation of her touch. 

A honeyed laugh, low yet sweet, dripped from her mouth, "Someone's impatient." 

"Been wanting to do this ever since I met ya in that parking lot V," a southern drawl laced his low voice, sending a shiver up her spine. 

"I like when you call me that," her lips were now pressed against his neck, leaving gentle pecks in between her words. 

"Yeah?" Jake smirked upon hearing her soft gasp when his hands gripped the soft flesh of her ass. 

"Yeah," her confidence was returning. They had a give and take with one another. Each able to finally feel safe, feel vulnerable, knowing the other would be there, ready to reassure them. 

Her fingers reached towards his collarbone, fisting the dog tags he wore. With a single tug, she was able to direct his lips back to hers. 

It was the hottest thing Jake had experienced. 

With her free hand, she grabbed one of Jake's, bringing it to one of her breasts. Even just feeling it through the fabric of her dress was enough to send Jake's head spinning. 

He could feel his cock straining against his jeans. The pleasure wasn't building up, instead it felt like a volcano, ready to erupt at any time. 

The sudden jerk of his hips had thrown her off, albeit briefly. She was fully ready to write it off as twitch and continue making out with the Adonis that was underneath her (not that she'd ever say that to his face, he didn't need another ego boost). 

But then his hips kept jerking upwards, almost uncontrollably. And then she heard him moan, low and strained. 

"Fuck, Venus." 

It wasn't her first time. Venus knew when a guy had come, and she should have recognized the tall tale signs that Jake was close. 

But how could she focus on anything other than his stupid dog tags, or his stupidly soft hair that was so easy to just grab, or the scent of his cologne that she knew he spent way too much money on? 

So instead the two just sat there, seemingly frozen. Quite frankly, Venus was racking her brain as to how to not ask what had happened so bluntly, whereas Jake was trying to will the floor to open up and swallow him whole. 

"Did…did you um-" 

"I am so sorry. I swear that hasn't happened since like, eighth grade." 

Jake continues to ramble, oblivious to the fact that she stopped listening after he confirmed that she made him cum in his pants just from kissing him. 

"Again, I'm really sorry, this has never happened before. You're just really pretty and kissing you felt really fucking good, I can go home if you-" 

"Why are you apologizing, that was fucking hot." 

Jake's teeth sunk into his bottom lip, fighting back a strained groan, his sensitive cock twitching from her words. 

"I-really?" 

She grinned, shifting her hips towards his again, "Yes really. And unless you're a 'one and done' kind of man, I'd like to continue." 

Jake scoffed, "Sweetheart, 'one and done' ain't my style." 

Venus simply smirked, "Oh yeah? Then what is your style? And does it have anything to do with that callsign of yours?"

Being egged on by her was more fun now that they were dating. Jake smirked at the shriek she let out when he picked her up, placing her on the couch. 

"Seresin, what are you-" Her sentence was cut off by Jake's teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her thighs. His hands made quick work of finding the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs. 

"My style is 'I can go all night' with a side of 'I like to keep my mouth busy'," the wink he gave her was beyond cheesy. Her eye roll confirmed it, though it didn’t deter Jake. Not when he could see the corners of her mouth forming a small smile. 

"Anyone ever told you that you're super corny Seresin?" Despite her words. adoration shined in her eyes. 

"Just you," Jake simply shrugged as he made himself comfortable in between her legs. 

"Really? Whatshisface hasn't ever told you th-fuck!" She threw her head back the second Jake's tongue found her soaked folds. 

"What was that darling?" Jake asked with a grin that could only be described as devilish. 

"Get back here you little shit," her hands gripped his blonde locks, tugging them in her desired direction.

Jake chuckled before pressing a kiss to the inside of her thighs, "Don't have to tell me twice Venus."

#my writing #Jake Seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader

[zaldritzosrose]

To Tame a Wolf: Part One

Summary: The battle for alliance had begun. The Greens and the Blacks. The North was a desired ally. And a marriage would be the way to secure it.

TW: She/Her Pronouns, use of OC (Lyanna Stark), mentions of character death, arranged marriage.

Words: 1,939

Part Two

Thank you to @lady-phasma for betaing this for me!

Negotiations and Betrothals

Lyanna waited outside, her brother having received word that Prince Aemond and his dragon were on the horizon. And Lyanna had been sent out to greet him.

Aemond flew on Vhagar, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. He knew, in theory, what he needed to do in negotiations: offer what the council had instructed him to, and not leave without an answer, or even better, an acceptance. But it was what was to be offered that bothered him.

He had never pictured himself as a husband. Not that he considered himself undesirable, it had simply never been something that had crossed his mind. But duty was duty, and if anything could be said about Aemond, it was that he would always do his duty. And right now, his duty was war.

The distant roar of a dragon was enough to signal the prince’s impending arrival, the looming shadow of the mighty she-dragon eclipsing Winterfell’s courtyard. There was, most likely, not a single Northerner who had truly seen a dragon up close. Even in the sky, Vhagar was a sight to see. As the shadow dipped, Lyanna readied herself and the nearby servants for Aemond’s arrival.

Aemond dismounted quickly. If it was his choice, he would have this entire situation done within a day. Politics, or should he say that patience was not his strongest suit. And patience was surely something he would need for this.

“My prince,” Lyanna dropped smoothly into a curtsy, as did the servants around her. Aemond inclined his head in respect, his movements stiff - both from riding and his wish to be anywhere else.

“My lady, I appreciate the welcome,” Aemond responded, the need to remain polite warring with the need to move on to the true reason for his visit.

But he did allow himself a moment to pause and look at Lyanna. If this was the woman to whom he was intended to offer his hand, surely, he should take the time to assess her as she was. While it might seem cold, Aemond knew this arrangement was not intended to be based on his desires. This arrangement was simply that. An arrangement. Feelings were of no consequence.

Though he had to admit, the stories of her beauty did not do her justice. She was a true beauty, he realised. The dark hair and grey eyes, so synonymous with the Starks. The soft rosiness of her cheeks, that had bloomed from standing out in the cold Northern air. He suppressed a chuckle realising that either way, on the surface, he would benefit from this arrangement with a beautiful wife.

“My brother awaits you in our Hall, my prince.” Lyanna gestured towards the large doors behind her, before leading Aemond out of the cold and into the warmth of Winterfell’s walls.

The halls of Winterfell had a beauty of their own. Heavy stone walls, built to withstand the cold and likely more sinister foes. Like the halls, he stood in reflected the people that lived there. Hardy. Stubborn. And hard to defeat. It was this notion that made him realise why the North was such a desired ally. Aemond had little interest in the décor and architecture. He had one focus, and he would see that through without distraction.

Lyanna walked quickly, the only sound to be heard was the swishing of the heavy fabrics of her gown and the soft clacking of their boots against the stone floor. There was no small talk, which if he had to admit, Aemond quite appreciated. The doors to the hall were opened and Lyanna only glanced back momentarily before entering.

“Brother, Prince Aemond has arrived,” she announced to whom, Aemond assumed, was Lord Cregan.

The resemblance was notable. The dark hair, grey eyes. But where Lyanna was soft, Cregan was harsh - ever fitting the Wolf in the North moniker. Aemond inclined his head, to which Cregan returned the same gesture before gesturing for Aemond to sit.

What surprised Aemond, however, was when Lyanna took a seat at Cregan’s side. He knew things were a little different in the North. But he had not expected Lyanna to be present in the negotiations. If she noticed his surprise, she said nothing. She simply waited for her brother to begin.

"Lord Cregan, it is an honour to meet you. I have come on behalf of King Aegon and the Green Council to discuss an alliance between our houses." Aemond spoke confidently, reciting the words that his grandsire had drilled into him upon his departure.

The negotiations were long, but in Aemond’s eye, they were fruitful. Cregan was receptive, more than expected, to Aegon’s offers as King. But Aemond knew that it was only a matter of time before the secondary motive for his arrival was to be revealed.

“And for the North’s alliance, what does the Crown offer us?” Cregan asked, the faintest of smiles on his bearded face as he glanced over at Lyanna.

Marriages and betrothals were common bargaining tools, so it was no surprise that this was the expected next step. Aemond still felt the faintest unease settling in his gut at the prospect.

“The Crown offers marriage, my lord. Between Lady Lyanna and myself.” Aemond said the words simply, there was no need for flowery proposals.

But the look on Lyanna’s face was not what he expected. Surely a lady would feel honoured to be chosen to marry a prince. Lyanna looked anything but honoured. While she did not look angry, she did not look happy either. She was simply…indifferent.

“A generous proposal, my prince. And one that I will duly consider.”

And with Lord Stark’s words, the negotiations were ended. Aemond hoped, deep down, that the decision would be reached before the day’s end. But he felt he was hoping for too much. The prince looked to Lyanna once more, hoping for some sort of reaction. Joy, disgust, anger. Anything would be better than the blank look that currently coloured her features.

Only time would tell.

Aemond left the hall, knowing his part was done. For now. But he could already hear the words being exchanged between the siblings. The words were not angry, but they were not kind either. And it seemed that most of the ire was coming for Lyanna.

“I am not a prize to be exchanged for victory, brother!” Lyanna snapped, “And especially not to a Kinslayer!”

Lyanna’s voice just carried through the heavy wooden doors. Aemond could not help but feel a sting at her words. Was it him as a man she took issue with, or being married off itself? The word Kinslayer also carried a sting of its own. it seemed the title had carried itself all the way up North. Aemond knew he should not let it hurt him, but to know even a stranger saw him like that, was a slice to his usual stoic heart.

He did not stay to hear the rest. Their conversation was not for his ears. He took himself down the halls, seeking refuge in what he hoped would be a library. With the help of a nearby guard, he soon found himself seated in a heavy armchair surrounded by books. A sole comfort no matter where he found himself.

Lyanna was furious. Though at who, she was not sure. She did not know Aemond well enough to dislike him, but she knew enough to feel a sense of trepidation at being his wife. Stories of Aemond Targaryen had not taken long to make their way North.

Infamous for losing his eye to his nephew, the self-same nephew he killed on dragon back not so long ago and claiming the largest living dragon at only ten years of age.

The stories painted him as a man of little emotion, focused solely on the duty of being a prince and dragon rider. Not a man Lyanna had ever envisioned herself marrying, that was for sure. Though if she were honest, she had never truly imagined marrying anyone. She had been lucky in that regard; most ladies of Lyanna’s age would likely have been married off by now.

But she was not just a lady. She was a Stark. Just as much a prize as the North itself. Even if she despised the notion.

She knew Cregan would accept the proposal. He had decided to support Aegon before Aemond had even arrived. Her brother was a smart man, smarter than most gave him credit. Despite his young age as a Northern Warden, Cregan knew well enough to side where the benefit would fall greater on their house.

And right now? It was to side with Aegon as King.

By marrying Lyanna to Aemond, Cregan believed that he was putting Stark blood closer to the throne. And that was more than worth the price of his sister’s disdain.

The betrothal was official. And Lyanna was set to leave with Aemond for King’s Landing as soon as possible. War did not allow them the gift of time. Lyanna had at least hoped for time to prepare to leave, but Cregan assured her that her belongings would follow on behind her.

And then she realised the Crown’s intention. The sooner the wedding was held, the sooner war would begin. War was the focus, that was obvious.

Aemond left first, assuring Cregan and Lyanna that everything would be prepared for her arrival. A letter had been sent when Cregan accepted, informing Aegon and the Council that the marriage was to go ahead.

The ride was long for Lyanna, and the time did nothing to bolster her feelings towards this marriage. She didn’t hate Aemond, she had assured him of that before he left atop Vhagar. And he has assured her in kind, he had no reason to hate her either. But they both knew that there was little between them.

They would barely even be considered friends, for they knew nothing of each other. There was likely to be little time to learn such things.

Almost two weeks passed and Lyanna was at the gates of the Red Keep. She had never visited the South herself, but her brother had told her stories. Nothing would ever compare to the beauty of Winterfell in her eyes, but she could appreciate the Keep, nonetheless. For it was to become her home, whether she liked it or not. She assumed people knew of her arrival. It wasn’t often that Starks, or Northerners, came to the capital and to come on the arrangement of marriage would be more than a novelty.

As the carriage came to a stop, Lyanna took a deep breath, hoping to somehow calm herself. She knew nothing of what to expect the moment she stepped from the safety of her carriage. A voice outside could be heard instructing the horseman to open the doors.

Suddenly,  the flash of sunlight hit her eyes. Different from what she used to in the North. As her sight adjusted, she felt a hand reach out and offer to assist her exit, which she gladly took. Thankfully, her welcome was quiet. War did that to cities, most people were likely safely inside their homes. And she was glad of it, a crowd was not what she needed at this moment.

She could see a handful of people, she assumed were royal servants and as she looked further, she saw the figure of Aemond. Standing tall and regal in the small group of servants. Strangely, she was relieved to see a face she at least recognised.

Even if that face belonged to that of a stranger.

a/n thank you so much to everyone who gave the confidence to do this! feedback is always appreciated!

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #oc!lyanna stark #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x oc

[ispelexists]

SHADOW MILK COOKIE AND 'THEATRUM MUNDI'

"The world's a stage, and the actors are playing their roles in it"

The idea of Theatrum Mundi dumbed down. It's a simple concept, that concludes that the life itself is a show, being directed by some supernatural force like for example god etc.

(If I'm wrong correct me, I'm not that much into literature and this kind of stuff)

This idea caused me to write down a few prompts for you pookies <3

🎭

The thing is, is that you have so many options with this, like... AHHH

English isn't my first language, I apologize for any confusion I might've caused by these

Here's some ideas/prompts for you guys:

💙 1. 💙

🎭) AU where Shadow Milk's corruption begun not because of the overwhelming power he had, but because he, as the 'Virtue of Knowledge' knew everyone's script after looking at them, and being distraught by that fact, or the fact that almost every Common Folks life ended with a tragedy, a murder (by the hands of the beasts, but he doesn't know that) which terrifies him.

He, being the only one who knew about it, would try to figure out what this tragedy was, or to change the fate, not knowing the cause of it, was himself and those he considered him the closest.

🎭) In the end he got so focused on that task, he didn't see his own slow fall, and when he noticed it in his comrades, it was to late. The only thing he could do was to accept his end, and join the other Beasts in wrecking chaos, and ending the whole ACT.

🎭 (In this AU, he can only see the key moments in everyone's life, like for example marriage, death, and other important things, he can't see everyday life of anyone)

🎭 (Also the only one's he doesn't know his script, that's why he doesn't know he would fall to corruption, you can say that he also can't see other Beasts since they're equal in power, but I think it works either way)

💙 2. 💙

🎭) A concept where Shadow Milk Cookie, freshly after his corruption, goes around either in a physical form or hidden withing the shadows, observing random cookies life, and having a great time laughing at the absurdity of the fact he can basically knows what's gonna happen next.

🎭) For example seeing a cookie buy something at the store, and him being able to predict they would trip in a moment, which they do. After observing, he would start to act out, to see if his actions can change the events that would happen next (Example: Making person A fall on someone else's garden, and the other cookie getting angry at them, which would change not only Cookies A script, but also Cookie's B) (basically 'Butterfly Effect')

🎭) This prompt would allow to explore how he might've acted freshly after becoming fully corrupted. Reason being I think, he wouldn't jump straight into seeking chaos, but testing the waters to see how far he can go before anyone (witches) try to stop him

🎭) (As an Ex 'Virtue of Knowledge' in this AU he knows every detail of everyone's scrip/life)

💙 3. 💙

🎭) This one is a prompt for an 'x Reader', 'x Canon' or 'x OC'. Basically Shadow Milk Cookie after he got released from the tree (of right after he got corrupted) and meets Insert/Name and Gingerbrave gang.

🎭)Here it could go 2 different ways (or more, but I just don't feel like writing them all):

a) He knew of I/N because of being able to see through Pure Vanilla's staff and falling for them in that way, but after seeing that I/N either has no love interest planned in the whole thing, or has some else, he's getting angry

(if you're doing pre-corruption Shadow Milk, then he can get just sad, and attempting to change the fate by simply spending more time with I/N, but after it hasn't worked, he just watches from the sidelines, as their beloved live in their fairytale, and get their happy ending with someone else (ANGSTSSS YESS))

anyways, coming back to Corrupted Shadow Milk Cookie. He would attempt changing the fate in more drastic way, and getting really pissed that it won't change no matter what. Feel free to interpret it as you will.

b) Also after getting free from that tree, while he knew of I/N from Pure Vanilla, after meeting them, he learns that in their story HE is their love interest, and being like 'Omg, my star, where have you been all my life 😩' or something idk, be creative lmao.

🎭

The art without the text 😘

#shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie #shadowmilkcookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk fanart #crk kingdom #crk art #crk fanart #cr kingdom #crk #art #cookie run kingdom #beast yeast #cookierun #cookie run

[dotieeee]

The Gamemaker's Apprentice

Level 2

Pairing: Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow x You, named!Reader

Overall Warnings:

NON-CON, DUB-CON, Dark!Young!Coriolanus Snow, Snow himself should be a warning, lots of blackmailing, gaslighting, manipulation, obsession, possesiveness, eventual forced marriage, eventual loss of virginity, breeding kink, canon-compliant major character death, reader is named but has no physical descriptions in the fic so one might also consider her an OC but in 2nd POV, will have canon inconsistencies, and other stuff that may be added

Masterlist

Level 2 Warnings:

Light Sejanus x Reader (we all know how this goes down 🥺), canon-compliant major character death, angst, SNOW and his obsessive thoughts are obsessive af, chapter longer than anticipated

Replay Level 1

Ready? Level 2 Start:

It’s just like you had predicted: Coriolanus Snow is declared victor at the tenth Hunger Games.

But despite the success, and the prestige and this Plinth Prize that had come with it, his win had already been dampened by the chaos that ensued even before the Games had begun.

Arachne had been fatally attacked by her tribute for taunting him with a sandwich. Although her behaviour towards her tribute had been childish and uncalled for, nobody deserved to die the way she did. On the day of the funeral, the corpse of the tribute who killed her was placed on a hook like livestock and was displayed for everyone to see, and the Capitol took pride in marching the tributes along in a sickening parade. ‘Monster,’ they had called her. But Brandy, the said tribute, was a byproduct of an upbringing that taught her to ‘kill or be killed,’ born into monstrous circumstances that the Capitol had helped create. City Circle had a good look at all of them: merely children, gaunt, starving, and poorly clothed: a stark difference to the luxuries the city liked to indulge itself in.

Coriolanus had sung the Gem of Panem at the funeral for some reason, which was nice of him to do, nonetheless.

Then came the bombing at the Arena where the Games were to be held.

The mentors and the tributes had been on a tour inside when the bombs had gone off. The twins from your class, Apollo and Diana, had died in an instant. Coriolanus and a few others had to be hospitalised.

You and some of your classmates had a chance to visit him at the hospital two days after the attack. Not wanting to come empty-handed, you brought a box of brownies you baked, placed a note and left it on the nightstand beside his bed when no one was looking, not wanting to draw attention.

You suspected that your uncle hadn’t had a wink of sleep since the bombing. He was rarely home. When he was, it was only to retrieve papers or hard drives and disks he had in his home office or to sneak a few bites of food from the kitchen. Everybody in the Citadel working on the Games is stressed, he had said, working tirelessly and in shifts to avoid further mishaps. Dr. Gaul, the Head Gamemaker and your uncle’s boss at the Citadel, sounded generally unsatisfied with the way the Games are running.

Good, you had thought to yourself. Maybe this could spell the end of them. Perhaps not as good for the tributes or the mentors, though.

One night, however, you received an unusual phone call from Ma Plinth, Sejanus’s mom. She had said her son was missing and that she was going to the Snows to check up on him.

You ran to the Snow residence. Conveniently, they lived in the Main Corso building just right in front of yours, Corso III. You found Ma Plinth talking to Coriolanus at the door, practically begging him to find out where Sejanus was.

Coriolanus’s acquiesced and beckoned you inside, too.

But you never had a chance to talk, because Ma Plinth had then begun exclaiming that she just saw Sejanus on TV inside the arena.

Inside the fucking Arena.

What had possessed him to do such a thing became obvious to everyone watching: he just sprinkled breadcrumbs on his tribute’s body. It was a traditional send-off to the afterlife in District 2, you remember him telling you before.

You shared an alarmed look with Coriolanus as the phone rang. He was quick to pick it up. The rather short conversation was enough to render him even paler than usual.

He took you aside, out of earshot from Ma Plinth and Tigris, and whispered urgently:

“Gaul has told me to get him out there.”

“What? That’s insane,” you whispered back. “You’re both insane! You can’t seriously be thinking of going alone.”

Coriolanus looked worried. You’ve never seen him that worried before, but his determined tone said he wasn’t going to change his mind.

“I have to,” he said and pulled you towards the door. You understood his meaning then: go home.

“I’m coming with you, it’s not safe,” you had tried insisting.

“Exactly why you need to go home, Nellie. You’re going to need to forget this happened and stay home. I’ll bring Sejanus back.”

He didn’t even wait for your response and just took off.

You had spent the rest of the night with little sleep after, debating whether to call Coriolanus or Sejanus to check if they’d both gotten home in one piece.

Thankfully, Coriolanus had given you the call in the morning after, and Sejanus had dropped by your home that afternoon, to confirm they were safe. You had asked Sejanus then if he wanted to talk about what happened, but he just shook his head and said he simply wanted to watch you do ‘whatever it is you do on that damn computer.’ You had warned him it might bore him to death, but he said he didn’t care.

Except an hour into your coding practice, he groaned and said “At least tell me what the hell it is I’m seeing.”

And you just laughed the kind of laugh only he got to hear.

You had been at home when your uncle called and gave you the news. It was over, and Coriolanus had won everything: the Games, and the Plinth Prize money, and against all odds he succeeded in keeping the girl Lucy Gray alive. He then said there was going to be a victory party but that it had been cancelled.

Coriolanus had been cheating in the games and he was going to be sent to the Districts to become a peacekeeper to atone for this misdemeanour.

By the time you had visited his home, Tigris said he had already packed and left to await his assignment.

You wondered then whether he might have fallen genuinely for his District 12 tribute enough to put himself and everything else on the line like that, and whether he intended to follow her. Good for him, discovering his humanity amidst all the corruption and the violence and the chaos, but you couldn’t help but think the dangers and the horrors he’ll face there as a peacekeeper might be more than enough to extinguish that.

Also, you had not heard from Sejanus at all – it’s like he’s snapped and he’s shutting everyone out, and when you dropped by his house, Ma Plinth said she hadn’t seen him all day.

This is why you nearly jump and drop the box of cookies you’re about to take with you to your room when the phone rings in the living room.

You dive to take the call and nearly blow up when you hear a familiar voice.

“Nellie, I’m coming over,” Sejanus says in a hurried tone.

He’s been avoiding you for days, and now he wants to just pop in and visit? “The fuck you are. Where have you been?”

Completely ignoring your question, he repeats with a little more force, “I’m coming over,” and hangs up.

The nerve of this guy.

So you wait for him. You think of everything you’re going to tell him, keeping you away like that. You’re aware he had been through a rough patch with the Games and the pressure from his father, but he’s supposed to let you help him get through this. That’s what you’re there for, as a friend to him. So when the bell rings on your apartment door, you pull it open forcefully, hoping to give him a piece of your mind.

Anything you had planned on saying dies down in your throat the moment you see his face.

It’s like he hasn’t slept or eaten in days, by the looks of him. His normally neat curls are in disarray, and his eyes are puffy and dull and distraught.

Once you let him in and he crosses the threshold, he says:

“I’m being drafted as a peacekeeper.”

First, Coriolanus; now him?

“What is going on, Janus?” you asked in a hushed, concerned voice.

He runs a hand through his hair and rubs his face. Your eyes dart from his face to the notebook he’s holding with his other hand.

He plops down on your couch and lays his head on the backrest. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, before explaining everything.

“I’m under suspicion for treasonous...acts, I guess. They were going to expel me. Dad, he pulled a few strings to get me and Coriolanus to graduate and get high-honour diplomas. In exchange for that, I have to be sent away. They’re watching me, Nellie.”

You take the empty seat beside him as you frown. “So, they’re basically drafting you to peacekeeping for entering the Arena and performing funeral rites on your tribute?”

“Yes, among other things.”

A blanket of silence passes between the two of you.

“When?” you ask finally. It comes out coarse and full of dread.

“Later today.”

You let in a sharp intake of breath. They’re taking him away for his flagrant displays of basic human decency.

You swallow that lump in your throat and ask, “Do you know where you’d be assigned to?”

“12. I wasn’t assigned to it. I’m going to ask to be sent there. After all, somebody’s got to keep an eye out for Pretty-boy Coryo. He’s not going to last long there without me,” he says with false bravado.

The smirk on your face is half-hearted. “When...” When will I see you again? “When are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. You must’ve looked so upset because he holds your hand and squeezes. It’ll be a long time before you get to feel that hand-squeeze again.

“Nellie, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t come here just to say goodbye,” Sejanus says with those reassuring brown eyes. He shows you the small notebook he brought with him. “I spent days working on that. I didn’t sleep at all last night to get it finished. I’m sorry I couldn’t see you for the past few days, I didn’t want to come to you empty-handed.”

You quell that foreboding feeling in your heart and take the notebook with curiosity.

Sejanus says proudly, “Between the two of us, you were always the one with the solutions. This time, I got mine.”

You flip the notebook filled with his neat handwriting. On the first page are the words, ‘just in case.’

“Janus, what is this?”

He excitedly leans closer to you and says, “Code. We’re going to write each other in code. Here.” He fishes out another book from inside his jacket: an old, dog-eared book of condensed romantic novels.

It’s so odd a display you could not help commenting as you take the book. “Is this a one-of-a-kind deluxe collectable from the Plinth Family library?”

Sejanus laughs softly, the warm glow in his eyes slowly returning. Happy to see it again, you laugh with him. The smile on your face stays on for a few moments. How could it not when he’s there with you?

“So, we’re using this system to write to each other,” you conclude with a more serious tone. “You suspect they’ll be monitoring our letters.”

Sejanus lets out a weary sigh. “Yeah. I know you worry a lot, so I’d like to be able to exchange updates with you without putting you in trouble. Anything I write you that’s in the tone of subversion, which to them is the only language I know now, is going to raise suspicion. And I can’t risk that of you.”

You nod in understanding. You’re going to do your best to give him that – he’s going to need news of home when he’s there, it’s the least you could do to help. And in turn, you’ll have some form of assurance knowing that he’s doing okay.

“So, I wrote down references on the notebook for common things like, say, somebody threw a party or some shit. But anything serious, like, really serious that I haven’t thought of, that’s what that one-of-a-kind deluxe collectable is for.” He points at the book for emphasis. “You’re going to need to read that. Cover to cover.”

It isn’t your go-to genre, but you can easily manage that.

“You have another copy of this book?”

“Nah, I’ve read it many times. I remember every word.” This makes you raise a derisive eyebrow, to which he adds in mock defence, “Hey, sorry I wasn’t reading differential calculus. I was a kid, and it stuck, okay?”

Still giggling, you nodded in understanding. You hold the books close to your heart and give him a thankful look.

“We’re also going to need to burn the letters as soon as we read them. We can’t take any chances.” Sejanus gazes at you with a wistful smile. “I need you to be safe here, Nellie.”

This time, he takes both of your hands in his. The thought of not seeing your friend for a long time stirs up this cold emptiness inside you that threatens to grow even before he’s left. A treacherous tear runs down your cheek, followed by another, but he cups your face to wipe it away.

“Hey, I’ll be back in no time.”

“Okay,” you breathe. “Take care of your boyfriend, yes?” He chortles at this. “Take care of yourself, Janus. Know how to choose your battles, and when.”

He bobs his head as he lets you go. The absence of his warmth on your skin is immediate. He leans further but seems to hesitate. Instead, he gets to his feet.

It’s time.

You walk him to the door. You don’t exchange goodbyes anymore, maybe because you both believe you just did or maybe because there’s no need to.

You watch as he disappears into the hall towards the elevator. You don’t know why you linger, but before you close the door, a shout of your name keeps you in place. All that enters your line of vision are dishevelled brown curls before you feel a pair of lips latch onto yours.

Such warmth. And greedily, selfishly, you lean into that warmth, you take as much as you can get, for as long as you can.

You both pull away at the same time, your faces flush and beaming with a mixture of thrill and disbelief. Sejanus brings your foreheads close.

“Wait for me,” he whispers breathlessly.

You find yourself nodding fervently even before he finishes his request.

He plants a tender, lingering kiss on your forehead. With those soft brown orbs, he stares at you for a few seconds, still blushing, as he slowly backs away. And then he bolts, for good, taking all of that warmth with him. Your fingers travel subconsciously to your lips. Already, there’s a chill in you without him there, but you’ll endure. No matter how cold it gets.

For him.

The first letter from Sejanus arrived three weeks after your conversation. Nothing too drastic or fancy, if your decoding was accurate. Just mentions of the daily grind of a peacekeeper’s life. Drab, it may be, but you were glad to hear they were being fed well and weren’t getting into trouble. He hinted at Coriolanus being depressed at still having not found Lucy Gray. You remember being highly entertained by this development. You had guessed right, yet again: the elitist Snow, lovesick and pining over a girl from the districts who represents everything he stands against. What you would’ve given to have seen it for yourself.

These letters quickly become the highlight of your week when they arrive. You recall with disdain the women from those cheaply produced serialised dramas depicting them looking out the window in anticipation of news from their lovers at war. And here you were, acting like one, getting disgustingly giddy at the thought of a letter from your friend. The universe can be so vindictive, you thought to yourself with a laugh.

It was all lighthearted and fun until it wasn’t.

The tone in his letters shifted abruptly, indicating that the events in District 12 had become more tense and he had found questionable company.

You’re with your uncle at his private computer lab in the University, getting as much leg up as you can for your incoming classes. He had reminded you how high the expectations were of you to perform leagues beyond your peers because of your family name, so you took this to heart and started going with him whenever he went to teach summer classes. He’s at the other side of a long table piled to the ceiling with computer equipment, poring over the motherboard of an old computer he had taken apart. You’re going over a line of code you had entered on an unfamiliar programming language he was showing you the ropes on when a rap on the lab door is heard. The heavy carved door opens by a tiny fraction and a mailman’s head pokes in.

“Ah, wonderful, it’s here,” Uncle Cas mutters to himself as he gets to his feet to receive what appears to be a package with the Innis Tech logo stamped with the District 3 seal.

“From your aunt,” he clarifies, noticing your curious look.

His ex-wife: a strict, sharp-tongued woman he separated from before moving to the Capitol, with whom he left the task of managing the company-owned factories in District 3. You’re not that close to her, but you still call her Aunt Marcelline. You’ve stayed in her estate during your school break trips to District 3 while she busied herself with company matters.

“I designed a set of experimental microprocessors and sent her the blueprints. She mailed me the prototypes.”

Quietly, he slides a familiar envelope towards you. It’s always your uncle who hands you Sejanus’s letters. Weird that it looks like it came with his package, but you file that information away. With your code work abandoned, you all but tear the envelope open. The last one was three weeks ago, and you had been growing more anxious as the recurrence between them went further than the last. You glance at your uncle to ensure he isn’t watching, but he’s already had his back turned to you, presumably to assemble the microprocessors. You take out your references for the code and decipher the letter at once, hoping it isn’t as nowhere as alarming as his previous one. He had, after all, hinted at meeting a known rebel and had sympathised with his plight.

What you discover has you cursing under your breath and fearful for your friend’s life.

From across the table, your uncle mutters absently, “Nothing bad, I hope.” You deliberately ignore him.

Ammunition. Sejanus is supplying the rebels with money for ammunition.

What the actual fuck, Janus?

He ends the letter with a vow to return to you so you can make a difference together, just like he does every time. Only this time, this doesn’t comfort you at all.

In the letter you send back, you advise him against making another move and ask him – beg him – to put this all to an end. Understanding their plight and saying a change is much needed? That’s fine. Supplying the rebel forces with weapons? Downright madness. And where is Coriolanus in this? Is he in it, too? Why would he let his own best friend get involved in something he could be labelled a traitor for?

His next letter after that wasn’t much better.

Nothing about acts of rebellion, or of acquiring ammunition. Instead, the entire letter is Sejanus asking if you would come with him and live in the mountains if he asked you to. If you would meet him and run away with him if he told you where and when. The worst part of it was the underlying despair in the tone as if this was a last resort. If perhaps you were normal teenagers in normal circumstances it would’ve sent butterflies flying in your stomach and you’d be a wreck muffling your squeals of excitement with a pillow – except none of this was normal, and the friend you’re writing to is in District 12, has either committed treason or on the verge of committing treason and you’re stuck in the Capitol, unable to do a damn thing to keep any of it from happening.

It takes you a while to respond to his bizarre letter of his.

If I could be there in a heartbeat, I would. If you tell me where, I’ll follow. If you tell me when, I’ll leave right at that second. But please, please, Janus, be very careful, don’t do anything else that could get you in trouble. Please, come back, and we’ll talk about this then when you do. Be safe for us.

***

You stay distracted and jittery for the next nineteen days, and by the end of the twentieth day of no word from Sejanus, you had not eaten a single bite of food in your distress. You lay on the couch and turn the TV to a late-night drama called ‘Young Hearts,’ something about a peacekeeper trying to find the lover he left behind after his twenty-year draft. Nothing young about that, you mutter yourself miserably and close your eyes, trying to think of any clue you could’ve missed in your friend’s letters.

The next thing you know, you’re being gently shaken awake by Uncle Cas calmly calling your name out with mildly drawn together in worry.

He hands you over a glass of water, which you gratefully accept. You’re extremely parched and your throat is sore.

“Nellie. You were having nightmares again.”

That figures. Rarely do you remember these nightmares, but your uncle has woken you up in this manner too many times to count for you to know you had been screaming yourself hoarse, calling out for your parents in the dead of night.

Your uncle releases an audible sigh. “What is it this time?”

You peer at his worried, exhausted eyes, feeling your own starting to sting.

“Is this about a boy? Do I have to break an eighteen-year-old’s leg?”

You burst into a laughing-crying fit, at which your uncle’s mouth upturns.

“I’m sure you know this, by now, but stressing yourself out like this...you have not had nightmares in a long time, Nellie. This isn’t good,” he admonishes softly.

You begin confessing, “It’s Sejanus –“

“– Aaaand it’s about a boy. Got it. I’ll break his arms instead when he comes back, I’ll deal with Strabo Plinth after.”

You wipe your tears with your palm as you stifle your laughter. “Uncle, please, be serious,” you let out a couple of sniffs, letting the sobs fade. “He hasn’t written in almost three weeks. What if something happened to him?”

Your uncle puts an arm around your head and tucks you under his chin. “Plumcake, communication between –“

“– the Districts take a long time to get delivered, I know. I can’t help it. But why do I feel like...like something’s wrong this time? I mean, I feel like that all the time –“

“– because you tend to overthink, plumcake,” he finishes. “Add to that missing meals, sleeping irregularly? You’re not going to help Sejanus by worrying yourself to death.”

Of course, he’s right. He’s right. You can’t both be falling apart at the same time.

You nod lightly on his shoulder, feeling a light kiss on your hair. He lets go of you, and takes out a chocolate bar from his pyjama’s front pocket, urging you to eat something. You take it with trembling hands.

“How long has this been inside your pocket?” you mumble as you chew mechanically.

Uncle Cas just snorts and scoffs, “I don’t sleep with candy on me if that’s what you’re implying.”

A comforting silence passes between you two before your uncle leans forward and peers at you with a contemplative look.

“You love this boy.”

It isn’t a question, you notice. This kind of talk with your uncle is unchartered territory, because, as he’s quoted before, you’ve never given him any kind of ‘boy trouble,’ to which he’s thankful. But this is different. Sejanus isn’t just some boy; he’s a dear friend who needs help and you’d do just about anything to get to him at that very moment.

“I...I don’t know.”

Oh, but you know. You always know.

“But you would run away with him if he asked you to?”

You turn to look at him sharply in surprise. How did he know?

As if he read your mind, he says with a dry smile, “I pulled quite a lot of strings to make sure those letters get to the only hands that are meant to handle them.”

Of course. This is Acacius Innis you’re dealing with, Panem’s most prolific computer scientist and mathematical genius. Your code was probably just another crossword puzzle for him to solve while he was casually sipping his morning coffee. He’s been protecting you all this time. How he’s doing it, you feel like you wouldn’t like the answer to, but your heart just seems to find a way to love him even more. What would you do without him, you have no idea. Tears threaten to spill once more from your eyes, so all you can manage is a wet, grateful smile.

“I was young once, too, plumcake,” He reaches to ruffle your hair, flashing you a knowing smile. “Your aunt Marcelline and I, oh boy...did I ever tell you about that time we –”

Here we go. An Acacius Innis diversionary tactic special: overwhelm his niece with tales about him and his bossy ex-wife sneaking off to abandoned warehouses to make out on top of electrical equipment. He’s used those at parties to great effect.

“You know what, maybe I will run away with Sejanus.”

“Do that and I’ll break his arms, plus his legs, when he comes back.”

The phone rings in the living room as you pack some of your clothes. Your uncle presumably picks the phone up since it quiets down, leaving you to organise your suitcase in peace.

Your uncle had advised you this morning to take a break at your Aunt Marcelline’s estate in District 3. He said you needed the change of scenery to clear your head in time for your college freshman year. You had argued with him about staying for any news of your oddly quiet friend, but he didn’t want to hear any of it.

Something is wrong and you can’t shake it off, no matter how hard you try to rationalise.

With your five days' worth of clothes packed and ready to go, you trudge to the living room to call your uncle and get the trip over with. It doesn’t feel right to leave when you have a friend from whom you have not heard a single peep.

“Uncle Cas? I’m done packing,” you call out to the living room.

You find him sitting on the sofa, leaning forward with an arm rested on his knee, his hand covering half of his face. He looks at you sombrely, rubs his face and heaves a deep sigh.

“Trip’s cancelled,” he says in a hushed tone. “Come and sit with me, Nellie.”

Something’s wrong.

But that thought, you ignore, along with that racing heartbeat echoing in your ears.

You sit on the space your uncle gestured, wiping your palms on your lap. Your uncle turns to you with an expression you’ve only ever seen him once. The same look he wore the day he picked you up at the hospital after your Mom and Dad died.

Dread pools in your gut, making you feel lightheaded and sick.

“Nellie, Sejanus is gone. He’s been executed for treason.”

A shaky breath escapes your lips as your mind races to the rational. It can’t be. He can’t be. He just wrote to you three weeks ago. He just asked you if you’d run away with him. He hasn’t even replied to the last letter you sent. You essentially said yes.

Vaguely, you feel hands cup your face, and you hear your uncle call your name, but you choose to listen to the words that replay in your head:

“Wait for me.”

You’ll never hear that voice again.

“But he promised,” you whisper, unable to see clearly. Your eyes are stinging. “He said I should wait for him. He promised.”

“Plumcake, I’m sorry.”

Your uncle encases you in a hug. It should be warm, right?

You feel nothing.

You’ll never feel his warmth again.

And just like the day your uncle came for you at the hospital, you let your grief out on his shirt, wailing for another loved one lost you were too helpless to save.

“You’ve been watching an awful lot of that drama.”

Your uncle enters the living room with a pint of chocolate chip mint ice cream and plops down the sofa before handing you a spoon. You shake your head quietly, your eyes glued to the TV.

“Alright, more for me,” your uncle mutters to himself.

The former peacekeeper had just missed the love of his life in the town square, and he was now running around the shops trying to spot the familiar face.

If only he had caught sight of her just as she turned the corner...

You adjust the thick woollen quilt around your form huddled to your knees at the corner, your mind blank for the first time in a long while of barely doing anything.

Your uncle seems to understand your need to mourn and has since respected your space, only coaxing you to eat or go out for ice cream, all of which you refuse.

But to your annoyance, no matter how much you try to adjust the quilt, it’s still pretty fucking cold.

Your uncle wordlessly wraps another blanket on you. You thank him mechanically, even if the blanket doesn’t help with anything.

How hard is it to get fucking warm in this damn house...

“Nellie, I could turn up the thermostat but we’d basically be close to steaming,” your uncle comments gently.

You flash him a weak smile and turn your attention back to the TV, where the former peacekeeper chases a woman he thinks is the girl. He catches up to her, but she struggles. They both fall on the ground just before the guy realises it isn’t his girl. It gets messy, as the girl screams for help and the guy despairs while he’s dragged away by the peacekeepers on duty.

What a load of bullshit, you think.

The phone in your uncle’s office rings, making him get up from the couch and leave the tub of ice cream on the coffee table. Your stomach rumbles – a rather bleak reminder of the last time you had eaten anything. Dragging the blankets along with you, you make tea in the kitchen as you spot your uncle out of his pyjamas and dressed in his usual wool coat.

“They need me at the lab, the driver’s waiting downstairs,” he says, poking his head in the kitchen. “You’ll be alright here, plumcake?”

“At this time?” your voice comes out hoarse from unuse.

“Yeah, what can I say? They love me there at the Citadel, they’re practically begging to get in my pants,” he shrugs. His tone is meant to be lighthearted but it lacks its usual bite. You notice the lines on his face, the bags underneath his eyes, those brows knitting slightly together in his worry. A pang of guilt hits you.

“I’ll be fine, Uncle Cas. Go do your thing. Make them love you even more, or whatever.”

He opens his mouth to say something but seems to decide against it. He ends up saying in his usual teasing tone, “Yeah, that’s the easy part. Eat something and then go to bed, will you? You’re starting to look like a fucking ghost.”

You just flash him a flat smile. He’s gone in a moment, the front door closing behind him.

You inhale the steam from the tea deeply, your hands feeling wonderful around the steaming mug of tea. The mug cools down, after a few minutes, leaving you craving for more warmth. The kettle on the stove was still warm. You abandon your half-filled mug and place your hands around that too, until the steel starts biting your fingers with the cold.

This won’t do.

Maybe a warm bath ought to.

You shed the heavy layers of blankets wrapped around you. You don’t bother taking your hoodie off or your pyjamas as you walk into the scalding bath.

You just need to be warm, after all. Then you’ll be okay. Deeply drawing in a breath, you lean against the tub and hug your knees.

Sejanus’s hug was almost this warm. So were his hands. And his lips.

It takes only a fraction of a second for you to burst into agonizing sobs.

You miss him. Terribly.

“You said you’d come back. You told me to wait for you. I’m still fucking waiting.”

But the bathroom walls only mildly echo your voice.

***

You wake up to your uncle close to screaming your name.

What’s wrong? You’re warm now, so warm. Shivers wrack your body as your Uncle Cas sets you down on the plush bathroom carpet. You’re perfectly, contentedly warm now, so the shaking should subside, right?

“Nellie, what the fuck, how long have you been in here?” your uncle chastises. He grabs as many towels as he can from the overhead cabinet and wraps them all around you. “Next time you want to kill yourself, there are more efficient methods.”

You try to choke back your tears, but they still spill. You’re warm now, but every limb and every muscle hurts.

With you wrapped in a cocoon of towels, your uncle crouches on the floor to take you in his arms. You drench his coat and his shirt, but he doesn’t care.

“I’m sorry, plumcake, I did not mean to say that,” he coos into the hair clinging to your head.

You tremble as you cling to the towels. Why does it hurt?

“What on earth were you trying to do?”

Unable to hold it in any longer, you confess. Everything you’ve been bottling up since five days ago on the day you lost your best friend.

“I’m s-orry,” you say through your sobs and chattering teeth. “Wa-want to be wa-warm. J-janus was s-so warm, and now I’ll be c-c-cold. I just w-want him to hold my hand again like he d-did when I told him...mom and d-ad...”

You feel your uncle rest his chin on your head. “I’m sorry, little plumcake. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“I feel b-better now,” you whisper. The door to the bathroom is ajar. You see a figure with brown curls peeking inside. “Better...Janus...he’ll co-come for me...he came b-b-ack, see?” you try to point at the door, but you can’t move your arm. But he’s there and he’s waiting.

“Nellie, plumcake, there’s no one there, you’re ice cold. We need a doctor...”

Your uncle releases you as he scrambles out the bathroom. You vaguely hear him phoning his driver to bring the car around. The figure with brown curls slowly makes its way to you. The last thing you remember is him carting you off the bathroom floor and dashing out the apartment door before blackness takes over your vision.

Hypothermia, the doctor had said when you woke up. Your uncle had rushed you to the hospital around dawn, which meant you had been soaking in that tub for a few hours before he found you. You don’t remember anything after you had gotten in the tub. It wasn’t severe, thankfully, so you were discharged the next day.

You came home to an invitation in the mail from none other than Coriolanus Snow. So, he had returned from his exile in District 12, and according to the card, he will be hosting what would be Sejanus’s nineteenth birthday.

“You’re not going?” Your uncle had inquired with a surprised look.

“No. I think I’ll be busy that day, Uncle.”

“What for?”

You just gave him a small, determined smile.

“I’m getting rid of evidence.”

By the look of recognition your uncle flashes, he understood what you meant, and asked no more questions.

So, on the night of your best friend’s birthday, instead of being at the Plinth house, you’re on the rooftop, lighting a fire inside a large metal tin. You’re crouching on the gravel, vaguely wondering how the party was going.

You feel bad about not calling or visiting Ma Plinth. She had always been nice to you whenever you visited Janus, usually plying both of you so much of her delicious cooking and even making you take home leftovers. It must be extremely painful, losing the only son whom she doted and loved more than anything in the world. But you worry that when she starts talking, she’ll touch on feelings you’re actively trying to suppress. Maybe you could call her one time once you’re ready for such a conversation.

Coriolanus is probably hosting the party out of grief – in the letters, Janus hinted at growing closer to him during their stint in District 12. You watch as the flames in the tin grow and cast a comforting warmth around your form, wondering in amusement whether it was Snow Sejanus really had a crush on. You hope in your heart that Coriolanus had considered him a true friend right at the very end. That way, it’d be more comforting, knowing your dear friend had spent his final moments on earth with a person he trusted with his life.

You had kept all the letters inside a locked wooden box. You didn’t have the heart to burn them immediately after, but Sejanus had written incriminating messages in them. If anyone else were to discover them, you’d be considered a co-conspirator. You’re not worried about yourself, but your uncle...he can’t have you giving him any more trouble as you already have.

You take the letters, one by one, planting a kiss goodbye on each, before tossing them ceremoniously into the makeshift firepit. You watch with a heavy heart as they burst into flames, the smoke rising into the cold night air. You reach the bottom of the box where the tiny notebook lies. You rip each page apart, and those too, are placed on the fire. You continue, until all that’s left of the correspondence between you and Sejanus – the brave, pure soul of a man you could proudly now declare you had fallen in love with – is reduced to a pile of ash. You gather the ash and scatter it on the nearby herb box.

At least you still have that rugged condensed romance novel book, you thought to yourself with a wry chuckle.

Now done with destroying the evidence, you get to your feet with a vow to begin anew.

For him.

Another death devastated the Capitol in the following days. Casca Highbottom, Academy Dean and author of The Hunger Games. Your uncle thought he may have drunk tainted morphling, which he could’ve gotten anywhere. The authorities said it’s too broad of a scope to consider foul play, seeing as he was known as an avid user, he said.

You could’ve gone to the funeral, seeing as the man allowed you to graduate despite your albeit intentional fuckup, but you also knew everyone else would be there: everyone whose faces would remind you of your friend. You’re not sure you’re ready to face them just yet.

Uncle Cas had started preparing for his upcoming classes at Uni, so you volunteered to help exactly seven days before your classes started. The entire day was spent photocopying syllabi for student distribution, getting the computers at the public computer lab ready for use, and organising the private lab. The last one wasn’t an easy feat, what with the room piled to the walls with all the computers he has taken apart, all the drives he has accumulated, and all the books and papers he refuses to get rid of. What your uncle calls organised chaos, you simply call messy hoarding tendencies.

You’re bored out of your mind sorting through last academic year’s essays and test papers when your uncle calls you to his office at the far end of the lab.

You’ve only been inside a handful of times for short periods; otherwise, no one else is allowed. You find him playfully swivelling in his chair and playing with a stress ball, tossing it in the air and catching it.

“How’d you like to be my apprentice?”

He ceases with the chair swivel and throws the stress ball at you, which you move to catch at once. You openly gape at him, unsure if you heard correctly.

Apprenticeships for Uni deans are a big deal in the Capitol’s book.

“Since you’re here all the time being my little helper, no?” He says casually. He turns to the computer behind him and pulls up a program.

“Alright, I’ll sweeten the deal,” he continues. “Be my gamemaker apprentice. That’s better than a dean’s apprentice. You get paid and get exclusive perks, all that jazz.”

You bristle at this. He has never involved you in anything he does at the Citadel, and you’d prefer that it stays that way. Why is he bringing you in now?

Ignoring your perplexed expression, he goes on. “The best perk, in my opinion, is a membership to the White Knights Club. It’s an exclusive members-only restaurant on 3rd Street. The jazz band is okay, but they have the best angel food cake in the city.”

“Why?” you blurt out.

“They put orange extract instead of vani –“

“Not the cake, Uncle, the gamemaker apprenticeship thing,” you interrupt. “Why would you ask me that?”

Your Uncle Cas just beckons you to his computer and points at the currently running program.

On the app seems to be your Uncle’s name, his photo, and his –

“Wait, are those your...”

“Vitals? Yes,” he says proudly.

“...and hormone levels...to gauge emotion...” Your jaw drops open. “This is live?”

“Made possible by wearing this chip –“ he points at the back of his neck – “Which transmits everything in real-time, or at least it’s supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” you ask as you curiously peek at the back of his neck. True enough, there’s a chip about two inches in diameter attached to his skin. “Wait, did you put on this implant yourself? It looks like it hurts...”

“It hurts like a bitch, yes. But you get used to it quickly and it’s removable.”

He fishes a similar chip out of his drawer. He points at the two needle-like protrusions on each side of the square. “These are fitted onto the skin. And this,” he says, pointing at what looks like a microscopic piece of glass, “That’s the transmitter. I’m working on reducing the size of this chip at the moment.”

“Holy shit, Uncle Cas. They’re going to make the tributes wear these?”

He nods.

Your uncle built this entire thing? From a technical standpoint, you’re more than blown away. The program’s function on the other hand...

Before you could even explore more for yourself, he shuts down the program and locks his computer.

“What did you do that for?” you protest. “Moreover, why are you showing me this?”

“Because I haven’t finished it yet. And I need you to help me with the code.”

Oddly enough, you aren’t insulted or angry he would offer you a place among people you don’t ever want to associate with. There is no judgment between you and your Uncle Cas. You’re merely puzzled to your core.

“You’ve never talked about work at the Citadel before, Uncle. Why now?”

“Because you’re an Innis. My blood. The only person alive I can trust with my work.”

You’re touched and filled with pride that your Uncle would entrust you with something he built entirely from the ground up. But you remain unconvinced. This is, after all, an accessory to a vile creation you’d rather see disappear. You keep your eyes on your lap as you think.

“Why did you make this?”

“Because this is what’s within my control, Nellie.”

This makes you glance up at him in surprise.

“I can’t make the Games go away. Just like I can’t leave my work at the Citadel. What I can do, however, is build a tool that can help the mentors keep their tributes alive for as long as they can.”

Your uncle grins at the look of recognition on your face.

“That’s what the vitals are for...and the hormone levels...” you whisper.

“Make them see that there’s a living, breathing human being on the other side of that screen. Be more compelled to protect a person instead of putting on a show. At least that’s the hope.”

So that’s why your uncle wants only you to work on the program. Because in the hands of people like Volumnia Gaul, the program, when modified, promises something deadlier, more inhumane. You shudder inwardly at the possibilities.

“And you have my word I’m not going to make you work at Citadel.”

You inhale slowly, now understanding the responsibility he’s placing on you.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

His shoulders sagging imperceptibly in relief, he walks over to you and ruffles your hair.

“You’re a good kid, plumcake. Thank you.”

For the next six days until the start of the classes, you dangle this over Acacius Innis’ head in exchange for ice cream, much to his tolerant amusement.

And the program? You quietly vow to help put into completion and protect with your life, hoping it will one day protect someone else’s.

***

College then begins. Every class, every book, every face – they’re all new and fresh, save a few former Academy classmates you’d thankfully spot right on time and easily dodge. There was no need to make friends or alliances anymore. For the first time in a long while, you’re having fun learning new concepts and ideas, taking in every bit of knowledge you can get your hands on. Aside from school keeping you busy and distracted, you have your apprenticeship underway, working tirelessly on your uncle’s beloved creation.

Before you know it, it’s the middle of the semester, and save for a few of your uncle’s interns and student assistants, you hardly know anyone even remotely close to your age.

And you don’t know whether to be happy about it or be scared that you’re getting increasingly apathetic to the situation.

Coriolanus Snow is here, instead of at the University attending a lecture he mildly looked forward to, only for appearances’ sake, he assures himself. Go out there, Gaul had told him, make it look like he’s slowly reintegrating into society.

“Date. Party. Indulge. You have a bright future, a good life ahead of you. Make sure they all see it.”

The Capitol loves a good comeback story, and this was his, she had claimed.

In his short lifetime thus far, he’s conned, manipulated, lied, betrayed, and murdered – he’s committed more crimes than most men of his age had ever done, and here he is, waiting for Livia Cardew at a restaurant in this farce of a date he wishes would already end even before it had started.

He might get something out of this whole dating scene in general, he supposes. After all, like any ambitious, upstanding man of the Capitol, he’d have to eventually take a wife. Procreate. Leave behind a legacy the next generation could one day look up to. Ensure the cycle goes on. A marriage projects a desire for stability and fabricates this image of a dutiful and dedicated husband, which could be useful down the line when, not if, he rises to power.

Marriages, however, complicate matters, especially those with emotional attachments involved. Those whose judgement is clouded by emotion are easily manipulated and taken advantage of.

He knows this through first-hand experience. He had not been thinking clearly with his past involvement with Lucy Gray. She became a weakness for him, a blind spot. Lucy Gray used this emotional tie of his in an attempt to throw him off balance. There is no room for that with his objectives in mind.

The maître ‘d approaches his table and relays a message from the woman he’s waiting for: that she will be a little late because her stylist ordered the wrong size dress she initially wanted to wear, but that he has nothing to worry about as it’s all handled and she’s on her way. Coriolanus’s lips curl in displeasure when the maître ‘d walks away.

If he’s going to take a wife, it has to be someone he hates and would never willingly associate with in normal circumstances. That way, this hypothetical wife wouldn’t be used as leverage against him and could never spin his emotions around and use it to bring him down. Someone like Livia Cardew, a woman whose time management skills are non-existent, you can give her today and she’d be early tomorrow.

Late because of a dress. Coriolanus would pinch his eyebrows in annoyance if he wasn’t out in public. She could practically embed her skin with diamonds and rubies and he’d still find someone else with more class by throwing a dart on a map with his eyes closed.

Just the thought of having dinner with her now leaves a bitter taste in his tongue.

Someone less revolting, then, perhaps? Someone less grating and off-putting, someone whose voice and presence he could tolerate? Someone he’s actually come to respect? Someone who made a name for herself, not because of her family name alone nor of her penchant for superficiality and promiscuity, but because of her exceptional intellect and displays of inner backbone?

Reluctant as he is to admit it, there is only one woman in all of Panem who fits that criteria.

You.

You’d certainly take a lot of work, he muses as he stirs his tea, watching as the minuscule sugar granules melt into the amber liquid. He lightly squeezes a lemon wedge into the cup, thinking how he’d have to clamp down on your rebellious tendencies and make you improve your questionable social skills. But, like any high-quality, artisanal tea with many complex flavours, there is balance in you – qualities he can appreciate that make up your multifaceted psyche: your smarts, your impeccable manners, your impressive sense of self-discipline, and that air of refinement about you that most women your age could only hope to achieve. He had felt your wariness around him when you were still classmates back at the Academy, but that didn’t stop you then from being kind to him by often offering your classroom notes and leaving him food with those thoughtful little scribbles.

But perhaps the best one out of all of them? You have had no previous lovers he could contend with (Sejanus didn’t count, he made sure of it). He knows, too, that you wouldn’t care to look for one – not so soon after your friend’s death, not with your preoccupation with your studies, and simply because he knows you wouldn’t. With your chosen field of study, he could make you work for him, perhaps as a Gamemaker, so he could make use of your abilities, and most importantly, so he could keep a close watch on you at all times. Your potential is quickly starting to appeal to him.

He’d mould you into the perfect wife: his future first lady, the perfect embodiment of the Panem woman, completely and utterly his.

Well, close to perfect, given your district roots, but he could make a compromise. After all, there was absolutely nothing in you that screamed district. He supposes he has your Capitol upbringing to thank for that. Maybe your line isn’t even district at all. Maybe the districts can produce the odd one or two capable minds, but an entire clan of geniuses?

He thinks of children. Heirs to the Snow empire. If he were to take you as his wife, the chances of his line producing a superior legacy – children who are competent and are actually worthy of inheriting the name – increase significantly, compared to him taking someone else of less calibre. The genius of the Innises, combined with the ferocity and the resilience of the Snows – he will have children who’ll grow up to be admired and feared and respected in their own right. A fitting continuation of his line, indeed.

He gets to his feet with practised grace, his decision finally made. He abandons his now-tepid tea, leaves a check with a sizeable tip and orders the maitre ‘d to give a message to his late date: something about leaving for a more urgent appointment with someone else more important somewhere else in the city. He doesn’t bother elaborating, nor does he waste any more time waiting for her. He knows there is no point.

While he looks out his car’s window to observe the Capitol’s rapidly changing infrastructure, he vaguely wonders why he’s never considered you a candidate for marriage until now. Maybe because, like everyone in class, he knew even then that you were off-limits. Everyone else thought you were Sejanus’s girl from the start and it was only a matter of time when you both acted on it. The district boy and girl, sharing the same origin story, the same values, and the same hatred for the Games, the two of you against the world. By any standards, you’re considered physically attractive – there were talks among Academy boys about how you were one of the prettiest girls in your year, and many of them would’ve pursued you had you been Capitol-born, if or you didn’t have Sejanus as your shadow, or if you had been more sociable and outgoing. Whatever. At least it’s less work for him, less jilted lovers he would’ve gladly poisoned.

He has to play this smartly, though. With you, he knows there still is a possibility of getting emotionally involved – he does care about you to some extent, after all. If he ever ends up getting more attached than that, all he has to do is use some kind of leverage against you to make you stay in line.

Perhaps he could rope in Strabo Plinth to request an audience with your uncle and cut a deal with him in exchange for your hand. But Acacius Innis? Coriolanus has interacted with him only a handful of times in the Citadel. Apart from his genius, he’s polite and easygoing, with a bit of a sarcastic streak and a huge sweet tooth (the latter two you both seem to share). All of this, a facade for a man with an unyielding set of principles and a hint of ruthlessness. There’s something else in there, too, but even he can admit your Uncle Cas is tough to read. Perhaps he can explore that when he’s found out more.

Your absence at Highbottom’s funeral had been noticeable, and you had left an even gaping hole on the night of Sejanus’ 19th birthday party. You had all but ignored the invitation he sent. He guesses you’re trying to avoid anyone and everyone that reminded you of Sejanus. You could be devastated, perhaps even regretful, that you had not pursued your budding attachments with your friend before he died. Coriolanus had tried to ignore Sejanus’ attempts to be friends then, but even he couldn’t do the same for the former Plinth heir’s soft spot for you. He was always wanting to be around you, worrying about you, stealing fleeting glances in your direction. That’s why he had seen Sejanus’s eventual confession to him of his crush on you coming from a mile away.

And there you were, oblivious to all of it. For someone with razor-sharp intuition, you insist so much on trapping yourself in your imaginary protective little bubble you had failed to see how your friend had his eye on you for a long time. He had to admit: it was amusing in its own right to watch.

And therein lies a lapse in your judgment. It means when it comes to matters involving your little sweetheart – he nearly rolls his eyes at the concept – you’re easily emotionally blindsided. You may not even realise it, but Sejanus is a tiny crack in your normally smooth, perceptive surface. A weakness, dare he say. If that blind spot still exists, he will find a way to exploit it.

In a way, maybe Sejanus deserved you. He was, after all, inherently good (so good he died from it). Sejanus Plinth: born into a life of abundance, handed every privilege his bumbling idiot of a father could afford, never knowing pain, hunger, and suffering until the last moments of his admittedly short life – and somehow, he still would’ve gotten you if he had lived. Life is really fucking unfair that way.

He didn’t care then. Nor did he care then when Sejanus basically gloated to him that he had finally mustered the courage to kiss you right before he left for District 12. But now? The thought of that innocent, stupid little kiss plagues him. Was it quick? A mere peck? Did he catch you by surprise? Did you kiss him back? It doesn’t matter now if you did, he surmises. Coriolanus could give you more of that – so much more – if that’s what it takes to make you get over this affliction. Pretty soon, you’d forget about that kiss, and Sejanus would be nothing more to you than a dead friend, tucked away and reduced to one of many memories of mere teenage naivety and pointless idealism. Just like he is to him.

But – he laughs to himself bitterly and resents himself for even thinking about it – what kind of cruel twist of irony would it be if he had to contend with the ghost of his dead best friend for his future wife’s affections?

Enter Level 3

Author notes:

Please reblog and comment, it's always appreciated!!!

l'll work on putting this on Ao3 when I get the chance. Also, sorry about the missing separators, I'm only allowed to put 10 on a post and this fic is suuuuper long but it didn't feel right if I separate it into 2 chapters 😅😅😅

#dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #named!reader #or #x OC2ndPOV #18+ only #dark!coriolanus snow fic #dark!coriolanus #dark!coriolanus fic #dark!fic

[lewmagoo]

ocean of noise | b. bradshaw

description: in which bradley bradshaw is terrified to allow himself to love and be loved

warnings: 18+, angst, mentions of parental death, bradley has commitment issues and unpacked trauma, smut, unprotected piv sex, overstimulation, squirting

featured characters: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x nondescript f!reader (third person pov), pete “maverick” mitchell (a little bit of dad!mav)

notes: partially inspired by ocean of noise - arcade fire

He left in the wee hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, and before her eyes were open. 

He slipped out of bed as she slept peacefully, undisturbed by his movement. And as he quietly pulled on his clothes, he was filled with an odd feeling. A hollowness that ballooned within his chest. 

Later, he’d come to realize that that feeling was regret. But for now, all he knew was that he had to get out. Had to sneak out into the dark morning before the sun even broke upon the horizon, because he knew that if he stayed, his thoughts would run away from him, and he’d be forced to face a cold, hard truth. 

And the cold, hard truth was that he was in love with her. Painfully, irrevocably in love. That was something that Bradley Bradshaw couldn’t come to terms with. 

So, he ran. Just like he always did. 

As he left her house that morning, he sought peace at the beach. Usually, listening to the waves beat upon the shore calmed him. 

But not this morning. As he stood in the sand, looking out over the ocean, a storm raged within him. 

Flashes of her illuminated his mind. Bits and pieces of the night before. Her body pressed against his own. Her soft, breathless moans. Her face twisted in pleasure as he drove himself inside her over and over again. 

And then, there were the words she said as she was enraptured with pleasure. “I love you.”

He was stuck on those words. Had she really meant them? Or had she just said them in the throes of bliss? There was a part of himself that knew she had meant what she said. But he went back and forth over it, at war with himself. 

Suddenly, the ocean was no longer a place of peace and refuge from the outside world. It was an ocean of violence. Of noise. He couldn’t shut off the constant replay in his head, like someone kept hitting the rewind button as a sick joke. 

He kept trying to come up with reasons as to why he didn’t feel the same. Why he couldn’t feel the same. Reasons such as his profession being dangerous, or keeping him away for long periods of time. 

But in his heart of hearts, Bradley knew they were mere excuses. He was lying to himself. Lying to her. The truth was, he did feel the same way. He loved her so much it made him ache down to his very bones. But he was terrified. Terrified to commit, for fear of losing her, and of leaving her behind, should the sky claim his life. 

Upon his reflections there on the beach, he realized what a fool he was. This had all started as a mere one-night stand. But he was selfish, and he wanted more. So did she. They kept finding themselves tangled in the sheets, bodies wrapped around one another. It was as if they couldn’t get enough of each other. 

It was only sex. That’s what Bradley kept telling himself. But at some point, he’d begun to catch feelings. He tried to deny them. Tried to force them down like they were bitter pills to swallow. 

Except, those feelings weren’t bitter. They were sticky sweet like honey and went down just as easily. 

The thing was, he’d never allotted something like this in the plan that he called life. Falling in love wasn’t in the cards for him. It was better that way. He wouldn’t leave behind a widow like his father had. 

But then he met her. Maybe it was foolish to claim it was love at first sight, but for him, it was. He adored her from the moment he saw her, and as it turned out, she would be his undoing. 

He felt himself coming unraveled like a spool of thread, and even though she was still fast asleep in her bed, and he was standing knee-deep in the ocean, he was still connected to her, an endless length of red yarn keeping them tethered to one another despite being miles apart. 

He’d tried to cut that strand. Tried to saw at it with a knife and sever the connection they shared. But he simply couldn’t work up the nerve. How could he remove her from his life when she was the one thing that made it worth living?

These thoughts ravaged his mind as he stared out at the rising sun, the surf lapping at his legs, threatening to pull him in. He knew she was probably waking up now. She’d find herself in an empty bed, and the still silence of the house would tell her that he was gone. And perhaps she’d realize that this time, he didn’t intend to come back. 

It seemed cruel to do such a thing. To walk out of her life without a trace. Could he really go through with it? Could he walk away from the woman he loved and never look back?

“I don’t know what to do, Dad,” he whispered into the dawn. He wondered what Nick Bradshaw would say if he was still alive. Would he tell him to walk away before it was too late? Or would he knock some sense into him and encourage him to go after the girl? 

Bradley didn’t get a verbal answer, of course. But he did go to someone who would give him one. That’s how he found himself on Pete Mitchell’s doorstep that morning, weight shifting from foot to foot as he waited for the man to come to the door. 

It was still early, before either of them had to be on base. It gave ample time for them to talk. And talk, they would. 

When Maverick answered the door, his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the distraught Bradshaw kid on his doorstep. “Bradley,” he said, taking in his disheveled appearance. Windswept hair, haphazardly thrown on clothing, and a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Mav, I…can we talk? I need some advice.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting Bradley to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Nonetheless, the older man stepped aside. “Uh, sure, sure. Come on in.” As they both retreated inside, he motioned to the coffee pot on the counter. “I was just making some coffee, feel free to have a cup.”

Bradley obliged, pouring himself a cup before Pete motioned for him to follow him out to the hangar. They were both quiet as they walked, and once they were seated, Pete leaned forward, eyeing the man that looked so much like his two dearest friends.

He felt out of his element at that moment. Advice? What kind of advice? While he loved Bradley, he wasn’t sure that he was fit to give fatherly advice. The two had only just repaired their relationship a few weeks ago, and they were still navigating through years of emotional baggage that weighed heavily on them both. 

However, it was clear that Bradley trusted him. Or, rather, maybe he just didn’t have anyone else to turn to and Pete was his last resort. Either way, the seasoned aviator would try his best to help the kid out.

Bradley leaned forward, his eyes downcast as he gathered his thoughts. “I met a girl,” he murmured, “and she’s…she’s everything I could ever want or need. She gets where I’m coming from, I don’t have to explain myself to her. I know it’s impossible for anyone to be perfect, but she’s damn near it.”

Pete took a sip of his coffee. “Sounds like she’s a keeper,” he mused, unsure of where the kid was going with this. 

“That’s the problem. I think I’m in love with her, Mav.”

That puzzled him. His brows pulled together, and he cocked his head to the side. “I’m a little lost. How is that a problem?”

“Because I can’t fall in love! I can’t commit to someone, not when history could repeat itself. I don’t want to leave behind a widow like my dad did. I can’t do that to her.” 

It made sense to Pete then, and realization softened his features. He sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “I was involved with Penny years ago,” he began, “but I let her slip through my fingers. I had something great going with her, but I was too stupid to see it until it was too late. By some miracle, the universe gave me a second chance with her. But not everyone gets that lucky. If you’ve found something good with this girl, don’t let her go. This might be the only chance you get with her.”

“But what if I let her in, and then I end up getting killed on the job? I saw what it did to my mom. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Pete’s eyes were gentle as he regarded the younger man. “You can’t live your life in fear. I get why you’re scared. It makes sense. But you can’t let it keep you from enjoying yourself. You deserve to be happy, kid. You deserve a wife and a family and a stable, happy life. I’d hate to see you miss out on that.”

“I want that life. More than anything, I want it.” By admitting that, Bradley was finally being honest with himself. 

“Then go after it. There’s no sense basing life on what-ifs. Yeah, you could very well die while on duty, but the thing is, there are no guarantees. I mean, God forbid, you could be killed in a car accident on your way home today. Tomorrow isn’t promised. You love that girl, you tell her, and then you never let her go.”

Bradley was silent as he mulled over his words. He was right, after all. Tomorrow wasn’t promised. He’d found a good thing in this girl, and he’d be a fool to let her slip away just because he was too cowardly to commit. And when he thought about a life without her in it, it all seemed so empty and cold. 

Even so, he had much to think about. There was some emotional turmoil he had to work through. Long-forgotten demons hiding in a closet, waiting to be brought to the light. 

“You’re right,” he admitted. “I just, uh, get so caught up in my head sometimes. I forget that it’s okay to let myself experience happiness.”

“Your mom and dad wanted you to be happy. And I know for a fact that if Goose were here right now, he’d encourage you to go after the girl of your dreams. There’s nothing in this world that would have kept him from Carole.”

Bradley knew that to be true. Many times, his mother had recounted the story of how she’d met Nick Bradshaw. And although the ending to their story had been tragic, and the chapters in between had been difficult, she didn’t regret marrying him. She always said it was the best decision she’d ever made, and a large part of that was because Bradley had been born as a product of their love. 

He wanted a love like that. Pure and true, withstanding the test of time. But the question was, could he fully commit to it? Or would he let his fears hold him back? 

“I’ve got a lot of thinking to do,” he mused, glancing at Pete. 

He nodded. “Don’t spend too long in your head, though. It’s easy to get lost up there.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Finally, the two men stood. Bradley offered a smile. “Thanks, Mav. I know playing therapist probably wasn’t how you wanted to spend your morning.”

“Hey, it’s not a problem. You can come by anytime, you know that. I’m just glad to be a part of your life again.”

As he left that morning, he found himself wishing nothing more than to run back into the arms of the woman he’d walked away from. But there was no time, for he had to report for duty, and he couldn’t very well abandon his post, no matter how tempting it was. 

So he went to work. And he did his job. And in between all of it, he did some thinking. And some more thinking. And even more thinking. He thought about a future with her. Thought about a handful of little ones. A dog. A house. A comfortable life. And the more he considered it, the more he realized that he couldn’t imagine a life without her in it. All of it involved her, and if he didn’t have her, he had nothing. 

But she was unaware of the turmoil he was currently in the midst of. When she awoke that morning, she found herself in an empty bed, void of her lover and his warmth. He rarely left in the morning without at least saying goodbye. The realization that he’d slipped away unnoticed created a strange tightness in her chest, and she wondered if she was to blame.

He’d been acting strange ever since last night, when she’d uttered those three fateful words. I love you. She’d meant them when she said them. But he hadn’t said them back. And she wondered if maybe she had misread the situation. Maybe he didn’t love her the way she loved him. Maybe all this was to him was sex, and nothing more.

But she couldn’t believe that. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. He loved her, too. He just couldn’t admit it. He shied away from talking about his personal life, save from a few mentions of how he’d lost both his parents, so she had never really been able to get to the bottom of his apprehension toward developing feelings. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that she couldn’t keep this up much longer.

She couldn’t pretend like there was nothing there, because there was something. A spark, just waiting to ignite into a wild flame, consuming everything in its wake. But she feared that it might be extinguished entirely before it even had a chance to grow. 

When she didn’t hear from Bradley at all that day, her heart began to sink. She sent him a text, simple and to the point, but full of concern. 

I hope you’re okay.

Got some things to think through. Talk soon.

She tried to get answers out of him, but he refused, leaving her to wonder what he meant by things to think through. Did that mean it was over between them? Her heart ached at the thought of never seeing him again. She’d come to love the moments they spent together in between their trysts in the sheets. 

Moments in which pillow talk would take place. Conversations that would last well into the night, talking about anything and everything. Those were the moments she fell in love with him. Gradually, like an hourglass filling with sand. But turn that hourglass over and it upsets the whole process. That’s what she felt had happened between them. Bradley had turned them both upside down and interrupted the flow. 

Three days passed without a word from him. She went about her daily routines. Get up. Go to work. Come home. Go to bed. Do it all over again. And she missed him. Oh, how she missed him. And she wondered if she would ever see him again. 

She felt like a fool. Here she’d gone and let herself get attached to him, only for him to wound the heart she held out to him. She knew she never should have uttered those three words to him. Exposing such a vulnerable part of herself to him was a mistake, and she wished she’d had the foresight to keep her mouth shut. 

That left room for resentment to take root, and it was already beginning to bud and take shape like a new plant in the spring. Except this plant was the kind that would choke all the good, healthy ones out. 

On the fourth day, she resigned herself to never hearing from him again. If he wanted to run like a coward, that was his prerogative. 

But then, he showed up on her doorstep that night, and the moment she saw his face, she knew she’d let him in all over again, because she couldn’t resist when it came to Bradley Bradshaw. 

He’d done a lot of reflecting. Spent the last four days agonizing over the situation. But a bit of advice that Maverick had given him some time ago came to his mind. Don’t think, just do. And although he’d been talking about flying, Bradley used it to apply to this moment in his life. 

“Fuck it,” he’d said. He got in his car and drove to her place, and found himself on her front porch, knocking gently on the door. 

A few moments later, the porch light came on, and the door opened to reveal her, dressed in one of his old Navy shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, and he thought she’d never looked more beautiful. 

“Bradley,” she said in an exhale of breath. 

His eyes, wide and full of remorse, met her own. “Did you mean it?”

She was slightly confused, brow furrowing. “Mean what?”

“When you said you loved me. Did you mean it, or were you just saying it because—”

“I meant it. I wouldn’t say something like that if I didn’t.”

His shoulders fell, seemingly in relief. “I want you to know I love you too.”

She shifted her weight to her other foot. “You have a funny way of showing it, running off like you did. You can’t just disappear like that.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I had a lot to process.”

She straightened, squaring her shoulders. “Next time, talk to me. I won’t have a relationship where neither of us communicates about how we’re feeling. Running doesn’t fly with me. You do that to me again and you’ll lose me forever.”

There was a determination, a firmness in her voice. Bradley nodded, face sincere. “I won’t do it again, I swear to you.”

She could see how sincere he was. It burned in his eyes, like the warm flame from a lone candle. Finally, she stepped aside. “Come inside.”

He did, stepping over her threshold and into the comfort of her home. She led him into the kitchen, where she proceeded to make two mugs of hot cocoa. They were both quiet as she worked, and finally, she sat down at the table with him, handing him his mug as he murmured a soft utterance of thanks. 

“Why did you leave?” She asked. 

“Because I’m scared of commitment. I told myself I wouldn’t catch feelings, but I did anyway. And it fuckin’ terrified me. My job puts me at risk every day and I can’t help but think, what if I leave you behind? My mom lost my dad to the sky, who’s to say the same thing won’t happen to us? That’s why I struggle so much to bite the bullet and tell you how I feel.”

Her features softened, and she leaned forward, placing a hand over his own. “I know what your job entails. Are you forgetting that I’m a military brat? My dad put his life on the line every day. I’m no stranger to that fear. I can handle it. I know what I’m signing up for.”

“I know,” he whispered. “It still doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it’s my choice if I want to get involved with a man who risks his life every single day. I’m not going to let that fear stop me from loving you. I want a relationship with you, Bradley.”

He held her gaze, nodding his head. “I want that too. I really do.”

“Then let’s take a leap of faith and see where it takes us.” She smiled softly at him, her face warm and loving. 

His fingers intertwined with hers. “Okay. I…I can do that.”

The apprehension and fear he felt still gnawed at him, but she was right. It was worth it to take a leap of faith, to see where this love would take them. Bradley didn’t want to live a life without her in it, and he was tired of running. It was time to let himself love and be loved. 

She leaned in then, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, fingers idly tracing over one of the familiar scars etched into his skin. “So, I’ll say it again. I love you. And I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.”

“I love you too. I need you like I need air to breathe.”

Before her lips met his, she smiled, and then she was kissing him. Slow and deep, and it warmed his chest, sending his heart fluttering within his rib cage. He melted into her, allowing himself to be in the moment. 

Her fingers slid through his hair, moving up to tangle in the sun-lightened waves atop his head. He relished in her touch, so deliberate. She knew just what to do to render him a needy mess. 

“Take me to bed,” she gasped against his mouth. 

Who was he to deny her when she asked so sweetly? Without hesitation, he hoisted her up, utilizing his impressive strength to carry her out of the kitchen, their hot chocolate long forgotten. 

His large hands gripped her thighs tightly, keeping her in place as he headed off to her bedroom. Promptly, he deposited her onto the bed, and when she looked up, he was looming over her, big and broad and driven by his need for her. 

He pushed her knees apart, and then he reached down, tugging her shorts off in one swift motion, exposing the fact that she wasn’t wearing panties underneath. He groaned lowly, eyeing her delicate center, already glistening with arousal. 

“S’ pretty, doll face,” he hummed, fingers parting the folds to get a better look, and expose that sensitive little bud. 

But he wanted to see more of her. In seconds, her shirt was gone, and she was entirely bare, while he remained clothed. But it was short-lived, for soon, he shrugged out of his shirt and jeans, and tossed his underwear somewhere unbeknownst. All that was left was the silver chain of his dog tags. 

Then he was on top of her, body warm against hers as his lips found hers again in a searing kiss that lit both of them on fire. Hands wandered, hips undulated against one another, mouths trailed over warm skin. 

Bradley realized his hands were shaking as he pulled her legs up to wrap around him. But she calmed him, taking those unsteady hands and placing them upon her breast. He locked eyes with her, and she beckoned him forth again so she could kiss him before she guided his right hand down between her legs. 

“Feel how wet I am for you,” she coaxed. 

She was indeed. He couldn’t help but moan as his fingers glided through the slick. His cock twitched as his desire to be sheathed inside her mounted. He dipped his middle and ring fingers inside her, crooking them upwards and finding that spot that made her gasp. 

He was good at that. Always had been. No other lover she’d been with could find that spot, but he’d made it his mission to do so, and he never disappointed. 

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he hissed, glancing down to find that her arousal was trailing down his hand. 

“All for you,” she echoed. 

He pulled his hand back, only to use her wetness as lubricant to stroke his cock. She whined at the sight, heat blossoming through her body like she was a live firecracker. 

He sucked what was left from his fingers, not one to waste anything, and she about spontaneously combusted. Then, he was settling between her legs, lining himself up with her. Normally, he would take his time with her and draw it out, but he wanted her so badly, and he wasn’t going to deny either of them what they truly wanted. 

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby,” he assured her, and she knew he would. 

When he pushed into her, she couldn’t help the loud moan that tore from her throat. The initial stretch took her breath away, and she shivered beneath him. Bradley let out a wavering groan, his mouth falling open. 

He stayed there with his hips flush against hers for a few moments, taking in the feeling of her cunt snug around him. He’d never tire of the way she felt around him, like she was made for him. 

Feverish lips were on hers again, tongue and teeth clashing, moans entwining. Her hands found their way to the plush of his ass, and she dug her nails into his skin. “Move,” she hissed through her teeth. 

His arms rested on the mattress, near either side of her head, and then he pulled back and shunted his hips forward. She arched into him, letting out a soft “oh!”

Bradley glanced down at the place where their bodies met, and the sight of her taking every inch of him made his head spin. “Only been four days and I missed being inside this sweet pussy so much.”

“I missed it too,” she breathlessly confessed. 

He pulled back again and drove forward, slowly building up to a steady rhythm. She wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him impossibly closer, every inch of their bodies touching. 

They moved in tandem, joined as one. One breath, one heart, one soul. A silent understanding passed between them both. A promise that they’d never be apart again. This was the beginning of forever. 

Her eyes met his, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Each push of his hips into her elicited the most beautiful pleasured expression on her face, and he didn’t want to miss a single second of it. Her brows would rise, her mouth would fall open, and her head would fall back against the pillows. God, she was angelic. 

“I’m never leaving you again,” he confessed, face slack with ecstasy. “I’m yours for as long as I live.”

Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears, and she pulled him down by the dog tags, mouth searching for his. In the process, he quickened his movements, and the audible sound of skin against skin could soon be heard, an erotic soundtrack coupled with their breathless moans. 

Wanting her to feel as much pleasure as possible, Bradley made sure to focus on other parts of her body. He lowered his head and swirled his tongue around each of her nipples, sucked at her collarbone, dipped his fingers into her mouth.

“Harder, please,” she breathlessly begged after a while, and he didn’t hesitate to give her what she wanted, fucking into her harder, faster. She grew more vocal, and it only egged him on. 

Then he brought his hand down between their connected bodies, fingers pressing against her aching clit, and it pulled the most salacious moan from her. She could feel him smile as he trailed his mouth along her neck, his mustache prickling at the sensitive skin. 

“That feel good, honey?” He asked. He knew it did. 

“Oh, yes,” she sighed. “Feels s-so good.”

His teeth nipped at her pulse point, only for his tongue to soothe the sting. She barely had a moment to react to it, because he was already hurrying his movements, fucking her deeper than before. He pushed her legs up further, which gave him more range of motion, and his cock brushed against that spot within her that made her eyes roll back in her head. 

“Fuck!” She cried, jolting against him. “Right there!”

“Yeah? That’s your spot, ain’t it?” He taunted. If she wasn’t already so fucked out she might notice his smug expression. He knew exactly what he was doing. She was going to come undone at least twice before he even reached his own end, because her pleasure was his first priority. 

Her hands found their way to his back, which her fingers dug into, sure to leave trails of pink in their wake. He didn’t care. He wanted her to mark him up, to stake her claim on him. He was hers and no one else’s. 

She lifted her head from the pillows, searching for his mouth again, and he kissed her, swallowing her moans that kept growing in pitch. He could feel her tightening around him, and he knew she was close. “Want you to come for me, sweet thing.”

“I-I’m almost there,” she squeaked.

“I know. You let go when you need to. I’m gonna fuck you through it.” 

She allowed herself to bask in the sensations warming through her. Crackles of ecstasy, beginning at the base of her spine and flowing out to her extremities. She felt like a live wire, thrumming with electricity. 

He infiltrated her every sense. His warm skin against her own. His gravelly moans filling her ears. The taste of his mouth against hers. The darkened honey of his eyes as he caught her gaze. The scene of his cologne, and the wonderfully familiar scent that could only be described as Bradley. She was surrounded by every part of him, and she couldn’t get enough. 

She grew more vocal the more intense it became, and the sound of her desperate moans was music to his ears. “Sing for me, baby. Let me hear how good it feels.”

And she did. She cried out for him, body trembling in his arms as he fucked her. With his fingers at her swollen bud, and his cock snug within her, she was plummeting to the edge, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. So she did just as he said. She let it wash over her, and she didn’t hold back. 

When her eyes locked with his, wild with need, he knew she was done for. He watched in awe as she fell apart, writhing in euphoria as her orgasm engulfed her entirely. He fucked her through it, like he’d promised, but he had to slow down and grit his teeth as he tried to stave off his own end. Her cunt tightened around him, nearly sending him over the edge, but he held it together and allowed her to experience her own pleasure before chasing his own. 

When she finally came down, she fell limp beneath him, chest heaving as she fought to regain her bearings. He remained against her, grounding her. His lips were on hers, and he kissed her gently, slowly coaxing her down from the intensity she’d just experienced. 

He’d paused his movements, allowing her a moment to recover. As that spaced-out look in her eyes began to fade, she looked up at him, smiling shyly. “Th-that was…wow.” 

Bradley grinned at her, his cheeks flushed. “Glad to hear,” he said, laughter in his voice. 

She pulled him closer, a look of mischief crossing over her features as she tapped his ass with her heel. “Giddyup,” she coaxed. 

She certainly didn’t have to tell him twice. He resumed his pace, quickly moving back up to speed. She wrapped her legs securely around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders. He braced his hands on either side of her, face hovering over hers. 

God, he was breathtaking like this. Eyes set with determination, mouth slack, cheeks pink. Sweat glimmered on his brow. His dog tags jangled with each thrust. 

He’d started grinding his hips into hers with each thrust, pubic bone creating friction against her clit, and she was so sensitive that it nearly sent her over the edge again. “Oh!” She gasped, mouth falling open. 

He felt her tighten around him again, and he let out a broken grown, slowing down. “Fucking hell, baby. You keep doing that and I’m not gonna last much longer,” he warned. His resolve was quickly fading. 

“C-can’t help it,” she whimpered. “Feels too good.”

Something about her tone, and the look of innocence on her face, lit a fire within him, one that began to spread throughout every inch of his body. 

He sped up, bracing himself above her as he rose to a rough, unforgiving pace. He fucked her hard, and the sounds she made only spurred him on. At that point she could hardly utter a coherent word. The only thing coming out of her mouth were unbridled moans and whimpers. 

Somewhere along the way, she was hit with a second orgasm out of nowhere, and she quite literally sobbed as it crashed into her. This time, Bradley didn’t slow down. In fact, he fucked her so hard through it that she ended up soaking him with her release, the evidence of which coating his dick and his upper thighs. 

He glanced down at the mess, dripping beneath them onto the sheets, and his mouth hung open. But she was quickly growing embarrassed. 

“S-sorry. I made a mess,” she despaired, her voice wavering. 

It took everything in him to keep his composure. “Don’t you dare apologize,” he gritted out, fighting everything within himself to keep it together just a little longer. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

His voice was wrecked, and his whole body trembled. He knew he couldn’t hold on any longer. So he kissed her long and hard, and fucked her into the mattress. He could feel it building, and he didn’t stop until it finally overwhelmed him. 

With all but a shout, he drove his hips forward, pressing them flush to hers as he spent himself inside her, filling her to the brim with all he had to give. She took it all like the good girl she was, and soon, they both collapsed against the bed in exhaustion. 

Bradley was careful not to rest his entire weight upon her, and he very gently eased his softening cock out of her, soothing her when she whimpered. 

He couldn’t bring himself to speak for a few moments, and neither could she. They were still easing through the post-orgasmic haze. Instead, he opted to hold her, keeping her tucked against his chest. She was still jolting from the aftershocks. 

Several minutes passed, and the fog began to clear from her brain. And as it did, she realized what a mess she’d made. She glanced down and gasped at the sight of the soaked sheets, and she hid her face against his neck in embarrassment. 

“I can’t believe that happened,” she murmured. “I’ve never done that before.”

He pulled back to look at her, face a mix of incredulity and pride. “You mean no one has ever been able to make you squirt before?”

“N-no. They’ve never cared enough to try. I didn’t even know I could do it, anyway.”

He couldn’t hide the grin that spread across his face. “So I’m the first one that ever made you feel that good?”

She pushed at his chest. “Don’t get all cocky now.”

He hummed in amusement and leaned in to kiss her nose. They fell into a comfortable silence again, basking in the afterglow for a little while longer before it was finally time to get cleaned up. 

Bradley stripped the bed while she excused herself to the restroom, and by the time she emerged, he already had fresh sheets on, and was just spreading the duvet over the mattress. Sometime during the process, he’d thrown on his underwear, though he wore nothing else. 

“Thank you,” she expressed her gratitude for him changing the sheets. 

“It’s the least I could do, since I was the one who helped make the mess,” he said with a good-natured grin. 

She stepped in close, placing her hands on his broad chest. Instinctively, his own hands rested upon her hips, keeping her flush against his body. The atmosphere shifted into seriousness. 

“Are you going to stay this time? Or will I wake up to an empty bed again?” She asked. 

He held her gaze. “I’m staying. Remember what I told you? I’m never leaving you like that again. You’ve got me now, for as long as you’ll have me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making things right if I have to. I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”

She hummed, leaning up to kiss his mouth. “You don’t have to spend the rest of your life making it right. All I ask is that you be open and honest with me from here on out. It’s my only condition.”

He nodded without hesitation. “I will be. I promise.”

Then she smiled, “I’ve heard that you’re a man of your word. Is that true?”

“My word is good,” he simply replied.

“Well, in that case, Mr. Bradshaw, will you be mine?” Mirth lit up her eyes. 

It was his turn to smile. “I will gladly be yours, darlin’.”

And so, their love story began. 

-

taglist

@halfway-happyyy @natasharomanoffisbaebby @oliviabelova @robertbobfloydlover @supernaturaldawning @marrianena @mys2425 @n3ssm0nique @ice-mans-world @lovemesomevesey @straightforwardly @mochi-de-bisou @christinafaucher @emmmaturtle @fantasias-creativebubble @worldmadeofmemories @tarohemianrocketmanapsody @m0chac0ffee @not-leaprvt @i-simp-much @soaharleys @colorfultyrantearthquake @obxsuperfan07 @juniebugg @marchingicenotes7 @airedale17 @jamiedontbeacracko @monosjoons @dilfsandtherapy @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @unluckymonaghan @utterly-in-like @chxosunbound @thesewordsareallihavetogive @unordinare @currentlybradshaw @elevens-strangerthing @the-hottest-lieutenants @glodessa @peachiestkeen @alexxavicry @cherrycola27

#rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine

[nochukoo97]

Drabble idea for Venom!couple 😭💕:

oc sparring with jk and she pretends jk accidentally hit her too hard, and he panics and quickly goes over to her only to find her laughing at his reaction

venom | masterlist

A yelp leaves your mouth as you immediately crouch down, fake-hissing at the ‘pain’ as you hold onto your hand, mitt shrugged off in a hurry. You watch as Jungkook immediately rips off his gloves, eyes widening as he quickly crouches to your level to hold your arm.

“Shit, are you hurt?” Jungkook has concern written all over his face as he attempts to pry your hand out of your hold to inspect it, but you keep the act up, your other hand with the mitt clutches onto your ‘injured’ hand.

“It hurts really bad,” You feel bad, you fake-sniffle as you realise your boyfriend is starting to get paranoid about your new ‘injury’.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry baby, I hit the mitt too hard,” He tries to console what appears to you being distraught, “I told you it wasn’t a good idea, I didn’t control my strength,”

You can feel his palms rub up and down your back as he tries to coax you to let him see your hand, but the touch halts immediately when he feels you shaking.

At first Jungkook stiffens up, panicking thinking that you were in so much pain that you had begun crying, but the small giggle that comes from you tells him otherwise.

Soon, you begin to lose control of your ‘act’, bursting into giggles and laughter as Jungkook stares at you unamused, a slight frown forming on his face.

“___, you actually scared me there,” His voice is stern, to be fair, normally he would find the little pranks that you play on him funny, but this time it made his heart drop, fearing that you had actually gotten hurt because of him.

“Sorry,” You now turn to face him, laughter stopped as you sulk a little at the stern voice, “I didn’t mean to make you upset,”

“You didn’t make me upset,” Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand to stroke your cheek, “Just got me worried for a second, thought you actually got hurt,”

“Worried for me?” You send him a teasing smile, nudging your shoulder against his watching him fondly smile at you.

“You make me crazy for you, I swear,” Jungkook laughs as he shakes his head, leaning in to kiss you.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #bts #bts ff #bts fic #venom!jk