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navydoves · 14 hours ago

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BLOOD BAG — Chapter 4 —FINALE

"with honor and love."

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✎ᝰ. summary. you’re a vampire, you need blood. sylus is the most powerful man on this side of the planet. he has what you need.

✎ᝰ. cw. it's all angst this chapter bro

✎ᝰ. wc. 9.5k

✎ᝰ. a/n. heyyy... long time no see. i swear i have a good excuse this time. i just graduated and have been traveling a bit for my summer, lol! but no worries, this is the last chapter of blood bag so no more long breaks from me, hehe.

i will warn you all, this is the angstiest chapter so far, but it ranks as my favorite. when i tell you i SLAVED away writing this. like i'm tired bro. as usual not proofread and i will fix as time goes on, pls ignore bad grammar.

i really hope the wait was worth it and that you all don't kill me for what's in here. a lot of foreshadow and in-between-the-lines writing. hopefully it's all understood. enjoyyyyy! or don't...

ch1 ch2 ch3

fear was a common experience throughout the n109 zone. with it being one of the most dangerous and reckless sovereignties there were to date, fear was an emotion you felt when you first stepped in, but lost once you finally got acclimated.

so while fear was common, it was also uncommon to feel. it depended on who you were.

luke and kieran felt little to no fear while working alongside the sovereignty ruler. but that spell was broken when the sovereignty ruler forced them to experience fear again.

“what are you two doing?”

“boss! we swear it isn’t what it looks like!” luke interjects quickly.

“yes, please, we were just trying to help,” kieran adds on. he was subconsciously trying to block your body from view despite trying to convince sylus that it was okay.

sylus doesn’t say anything for a few very long, terse moments. and luke and kieran knew better than to continue scrambling for an excuse. sylus fixes his gaze at you, past the two mumbling and fearful twins. you don't stay anything, you don't look any particular type of way. surely, you've been through worse than being interrogated by a pair of emotional kids. the small cut in your neck told sylus that they didn't get far and they wouldn't have gotten far in the first place.

to truly disobey and go behind sylus, their guardian himself? never. sylus lets out one, dry, and humorless laugh. "help? after i've repeatedly told the two of you to stay out of my business, your tactic of help is to intervene? do you see what sort of nonsense logic that is?" "you're the one who's taught us to fight for what we want!" kieran rebuttals. "we... we want you back, boss! you're sick and it's her doing!" kieran points an accusatory finger at you, but your expression doesn't change. what was humoring at first was now exhausting to your brain. sylus looks back at you. there was a stark difference between the emotions he felt looking at the twins and then looking at you. one face made him feel rage while the other calmed him down instantly. favourites had already been chosen, it seemed. "you know nothing of sick," sylus simply responded, except this time he didn't look back at the twins, he kept his gaze on you. "sick is what i've been these past few decades. sick with no help or remedy. you two... know nothing of sick." sylus calmly walks further into the room and past the twins. as much as they wanted to stand their ground, it was over. they would never stand against sylus. he walks to you and with a simple tilt of his finger, frees you from your confines and helps you stand. "boss," luke finally speaks up, "then please, help us understand. what is it you've been suffering from? what is it that this vampire brings you that cures you? i... i know you're upset, but we've only acted because we... we know nothing about you, not anymore." sylus makes sure your wrists and ankles were alright first before even considering luke's words. gently, he cups the back of your head and brings your head against his chest protectively. still, his eyes laid on you and not the twins behind him. "i'm tired, luke," sylus simply responds, "and this girl here... is tired as well." that was everything sylus had to say. all the explanation he was willing to offer. gently, with his hand on the small of your back, sylus guides you to the bedroom door. he doesn't pay mind to the soft crying sounds of kieran or the defeat noise coming luke. once at the threshold, sylus turns his head to the side to luke and kieran. "this is your final warning. next time, you're sent off to base for corrections and won't return until i say so." a tense pause. "i love you two, but i've become sick of your games." like nothing, the bedroom door closes behind sylus and you, leaving the twins alone once again. luke glances at his brother with a mix of regret and exhaustion plaguing his mind. he puts a reassuring hand on the quiet, crying kieran and looks down at their feet. "we fucked up." ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

sylus leads you away from that specific hall. this manor held enough bedrooms to fit half of the n109 zone and all he needed to do was find one far away enough for comfort.

a few floors up and a few halls down, you sat quietly on the edge of a guest bed with sylus behind you laid down on the mattress. the walk here was silent and getting situated here was too. you weren't hurt apart from the small nick on your neck. the most you faced was an annoying interruption from your slumber and a few bouts of guilt. guilt you had to voice at least a little. "sylus," you whisper while keeping your gaze down at your dangling feet. he makes a noise of acknowledgement. "how badly... do you need me?" the question was odd... unspecified, but sylus didn't spend his time pondering on it. he knew his answer. "i don't remember the last time i needed something so much." "but..." you mumble, "i'm also greedy. i feel like i can't survive without your blood. to put two greedy people together like this..." "greed is all i've known," sylus states flatly. "i've been greedy for power, for weaponry, for success, for influence, but i've never been greedy for a person. you feed me back." "is that how you see it?" "yes. do you see it differently?" you squint your eyes before closing them all the way and shaking your head. "no. i want to be greedy. it's all i've known too. i don't remember what it's like to be human anymore, i've only faked it for survival but it never felt real. it felt like a charade." sylus makes another noise of acknowledgement. "then, i don't see a problem here." he sits up and stares at your back for a few moments before moving to your side of the bed. he sat right behind you, heat radiating off of his larger body. you only tensed for a second before relaxing in his presence.

sylus admires the slope of your neck and shoulders with quiet eyes. he moves his hands to your waist and rubs you over your new gifted dress with slow intensity. you could feel his breathing fanning your nape.

you don't question it, or at least you try not to. he was so strange like this. upset one second and calm the next. his moodiness was no stranger to you, after all, he once planned to kill you and was now tenderly touching your body. "do you need blood?" sylus asks lowly by your ear. "i feel more energized after sleeping, it could be good for you." "... yeah, i'll go for some blood." sylus shifts your body around to mount you on his lap. a faint, quick smile appears on his lips as he strokes the back of your head and waits for you to take the lead. you notice his sudden calmness and decided now was the best time to feed anyway.

you lean into his neck and sniff it out his skin first before licking the area you planned to bite. while before, you'd rush the bites and feeding sessions, you now took more meticulous steps and effort. after a few good licks you sink in your teeth into sylus's neck until the entirety of your fangs were enveloped by his flesh. a mutual groan escapes both you and him.

"there we go," sylus praises softly. a mix of pain and euphoria runs through his body as he feels your rather gentle sucks against his skin. he presses you closer into him and tilts his head back to allow you more access. "you're doing good." "i don't need the chit-chat," you muffle against his throat. "right, apologies." just like every time before, without fail, the intoxicating taste of dragon blood has you hazed and addicted. nothing felt or tasted better than this, nothing at all. no human guilty pleasure and no animal blood could match the pleasure and satiation given to you by this man.

your eyes flutter close, and your hands knead sylus's arms desperately. while such rich and tasty blood usually left you feeling powerful and strong, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of vulnerability within sylus's arms. all these lifetimes later, he still smelt the same and still felt the same. the memory burned.

a life long forgotten by these two monsters came back all the familiar with just one embrace. sylus positioned his head back straight and bent down to peek at your hungry expression. but seeing an emotional and helpless look be in its place instead allowed a surge of protectiveness to course through him. he held you tighter, straining the muscles in his forearms.

"drink, drink all you need. it's alright," he whispered into your hair. you couldn't even respond. his lips peppered slow and gentle kisses over the crown of your head to help soothe whatever turmoil was going on within you. it was subtle, too. the way your eyes clamped tighter than before, the way your lips quivered slightly. it was almost imperceptible, but sylus knew it so well. almost as if he truly knew you. sylus himself was also a melting pot of emotions. an affection once lost grew back tenfold and was mixed in with his feelings of pleasure. but barely could his mind even register these sensations with such intense blood loss.

he held you tight again before slowly losing his grip. in came the unfortunate side effect of providing for you - the exhaustion.

you pulled back before it could get too much worse, though. every time you fed you could feel sylus's heartbeat in your fangs, and when it slowed down too much, you always stopped.

you glanced up at him while licking away the remnants of blood from your lips. he was, by the looks of it, dizzy and trying to keep awake. this was the first your feeding had affected him so much. too much blood... you'd taken too much blood. and not just from this session, from all your sessions. it was catching up to him. "sylus?" you meekly say his name in hopes of grabbing his attention before it fizzled out. "ah... my head," he laments softly. with a surge of effort he decides to looks down at you and give you his attention. he smiles, genuinely. "was that good for you? it was good for me." you nod, but not without worry simmering in the back of your mind. "it was... amazing, as usual. you said your head hurt? maybe you should lay down." you push sylus backward onto the bed and he easily follows. he shifts until he was laid on the pillow, over the covers, and comfortably by your side. silently, you scoot off the bed and walk to the connected bathroom of the guest room. a few minutes later you emerge with a cup of water and bring it to the bedside table. "it's sink water with a toothbrush cup, but i hope it works," you say softly.

sylus glances at the cup but spares it little attention in comparison to you. "thank you, but i recover easily. i don't need the worry." "i'm not worried," you were, "but it's not a fun sight seeing someone in distress. i've already told you i don't like hurting people." you climb the bed once more and sit politely on your knees next to him. "your recovery time has gotten worse." sylus grunts. "it has. i'll be back to normal regardless."

the small admission takes both you and him aback. not only has he gotten weaker, butstill more vulnerable and honest.

sylus blinks a few times and shifts his gaze to your face. he scrutinizes you for a moment. "you've changed too. you're not feeding as desperately. you seemed a bit more... sensitive today." you flush from slight embarrassment. you didn't think sylus could notice your sentimentality while feeding. "um," you hesitate, "i suppose i'm still shaken from earlier. yknow, with your twins." a lie. sylus's expression drops. he makes a disapproving noise. "i don't know what they were thinking, they shouldn't have done that to you. they treated you like a monster. it made me so furious but i couldn't take it out on them."

you shake your head profusely. "no, it's alright. i could tell they weren't really going to do anything. i could also tell that they care a lot about you. i'm okay, really. i've been through worse." you stares at sylus in hopes of getting some type of understanding reaction out of him but it was hard to tell what he was thinking. you see his hand lift and land on your knee, thumb now caressing you back and forth.

"not anymore," he grumbles. "hm?" "you won't be going through anymore with me. i'll keep you safe, i'll give you a good life. i don't want anyone to stand in the way of that, not even luke and kieran." sylus's words make you swallow. unsure, uncertain, confused, none of these words were even close to what you felt. no matter his or your betrayal, it seemed that deep down he still loved you, but did you still feel the same? you knew nothing of love anymore; you only knew greed. you only wanted to use him and admitting that verbally or mentally hurt. "sylus..." you whisper out his name cautiously.

he sits up and rubs the side of his head once more before zeroing in on you. he slides his hand up a little higher to the beginning of your thigh. he says your name gently to get your attention. "can we have sex?"

the whirlwind of chaos within you suddenly came to a stop. you froze at his ask, wondering if maybe you just misheard him. his timing was almost comical.

meeting your eyes with his you could see a slight hopefulness in them mixed with a look of desire. and yet, his expression was only the second most interesting thing in the room apart from your dumbfounded face. the first most interesting thing was prominent at his navel, poking and large with no attempts of being hidden by sylus.

what could you even say? "n...no," you stammer, flushed. the hopefulness in sylus dies. "i... i just... need blood, i don't need anything else."

sylus wets his lips in dejection and removes his hand from your leg. he nods slightly. "i understand," he whispers, "i apologize if i've made you uncomfortable."

"i... no it... i'm okay. you haven't done anything."

an awkward silence emerges between you and him. and yet, his obvious sign of arousal wasn't going down. you almost wanted to soothe him, but not in that manner. the upset plastered on his face made you yourself upset, and you didn't like that. if he was offering you a lavish, safe life, the least you could was tend to him. even a little. after all, no matter how much turmoil there was between you two, it was still one soul you shared. and there was really only one way you knew how to soothe him. "sylus, can i feed?" sylus perks up in surprise. he furrows his brows at you. "you didn't get enough? you should've told me." he gently tugs your wrist so you could get back on his lap. "come feed, i feel better now." you apprehensively climb back onto sylus, nestling your legs on either side of his hips and sitting directly on his crotch. both of you ignored the intimate touching that was happening there. "are you sure you feel better? it hasn't been long at all. i can wait," you say almost insistently. you didn't need blood at all, you were just doing this for him. "if there's one thing that can make me feel better," sylus murmurs against your neck, "it's your teeth in me." he doesn't pull back right away to let you begin, instead he keeps his attention on the curve of your neck and jaw. gently, he trails kisses down the line of your throat and to your collarbones before moving up to your ear. he lets out a soft sigh. "let me... just have this."

you were frozen on his lap as he gave you sensual affections. your hands didn't know what to do except tug on the sleeves of his shirt, helping yourself keep grounded in such a heated atmosphere.

let him have this, you repeated in your head, just like he let you have him.

my virgin.

sylus presses his palms flat against your back and pushes you impossibly closer to his chest. he took advantage of your smaller form to maneuver you how he wanted, all while still treading the fine line between being needy and being forceful.

forcing you? making you unbearably uncomfortable? never, ever. but your soft sighs and shallow breaths told him you weren't as apprehensive as he might've thought.

he continues his kisses back down to the base of your neck and nibbles your skin there. he nips and nips until he could no longer take it anymore and threatens a bite to your neck.

you feel it, his canines just grazing you but refusing to go further and break the skin barrier. he retreats.

"sylus," you gasp his name softly. you gently pull his head back and search his eyes. hazed over, glossy, with pink sclera. "sylus, are you... are you okay?" "i need you," he croaks with a rough, vulnerable voice, "anything, give me anything..."

you feel yourself go speechless, somewhat unsure of what he was asking for. you could feed right then but the way he was looking at you... it wasn't right. he was drained of everything but desperation for you.

"i don't understand..." you admit with a barely-there voice. "anything," he repeats. you squint your eyes at him and trace the curves and contours of his face before landing your gaze on his lips. noticing where your eyes were at, sylus eagerly shifts his face closer to yours to plead.

there was a tense air, tenser than any atmosphere you two have shared before.

and when your lips slotted again his for the first time, that tension broke immediately.

sylus groaned intensely into your mouth as he feels a new type of greed overtake him. you couldn't be any closer, but he tried to close that non-existent distance anyway. he pressed against you so hard you toppled back onto the bed and laid underneath him. his arms were locked around your waist in a bearhug, forcing you up against his fervent lips. the sounds coming from him were dizzying. a mix of groans and grunts, whimpers and whines. he could taste every non-human part of your soul with just his tongue against yours. it was overwhelming but so good, even to your unexpecting self. you didn't push him off nor wrestle against his surprising strength. instead, you let yourself get lost in the kiss of someone long lost to you. and yet it still didn't feel like love, all it felt like for you was greed. greed for your blood bag.

between heavy breaths and intense kisses, sylus pulls back and squishes your cheeks together. he pants in your face. "bite me."

"what?" before you could question it any further, sylus forces your mouth onto his and pierces himself against your fangs with a brutal push. he groans in pain, but it contrasted the blissful expression on his face.

blood rushes into your mouth and your throat automatically starts swallowing everything. it all happened so fast, you couldn't even get a proper thought out before your judgement was clouded with desperation. no matter how full you were, tasting even one drop of sylus's blood would get you hooked on him again.

you sucked and sucked, and every suck caused sylus to become equally weaker and stimulated. you could feel the gentle grinds of his pelvis against yours, but it was the least of your concerns at the moment. the blood was coming in excess and was too much for simple swallows. it began dripping down the sides of your mouth through the kiss, all the way down to the side of your head and pooling by your cheeks on the mattress.

if you told yourself a decade ago that you would be abundant in such rich blood from a person who was impervious to becoming a vampire, you'd think you were crazy. but here you were, being fed like a babe from none other than the man you betrayed.

you felt drips of tears landing on your face coming from sylus's closed eyes. he was no longer making as much noise or holding you as tight, but he kept still there to keep you feeding. you weren't sure what the tears were about but you guessed it was exhaustion.

his heart was slowing down again, the slowest it'd ever been since you first started feeding. your fangs ached for more but in the midst of your disgusting greed you had one sober thought. his heart is going to stop.

immediately you unsheathe yourself from his lips and gasp for air. there was an immense amount of blood on both mouths and still some coming out of his inner lips. before you could help him lay down, he was already passing out and doing it himself.

sylus's back hit the bed as his eyes fluttered and his body gave out.

you quickly scramble by his side and look over his red streaked face. "sy...sylus?" you whisper with fear lacing your voice.

his chest moved slowly with breaths. too slowly for comfort, but it was something. you let out a breath of your own at the sight.

against your better judgement, you lick the remnants of blood from his face and then stare down at his unconscious state. you quiver slightly.

"oh, sylus." ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"no... he's not talking to anyone," luke murmurs under his breath. "what? what does that even mean? does he even understand what's been happening to the other sovereignties? does he not understand what this could mean for the n109 zone?!"

kieran squeezes his eyes shut in frustration. he holds back nasty retorts. "it's irrelevant. you can complain all you want but we've said this multiple times he's not going to give you the time-" "chancellor madison," a familiar voice purrs from around the corner. sylus appears with his arms tucked behind his back, a demonstration of respect and ease. "i apologize, have my assistants been unhelpful to you? forgive them, they're only trying to heed my words." the twins snap their heads to their boss. it had been days since they last fully saw him. there were only traces of his and your existence here. distant voices, lights left on, weapons moved around - stuff like that. but seeing his face fully now, especially without you clinging to him, was a breath of relief for luke and kieran. the chancellor rejoices. "master sylus! you've appeared. you've had the other soverns think of you as a myth. i've been meaning to speak to you." sylus smiles gently and looks at the twins, giving them a reassuring look that he had this handled. he looks back at the chancellor. "you hail from eversnow? your cold climate is allowing for vampires to thrive in your environment and causing an outbreak? i overheard. you seek militant power from me to help fend them off, i presume." the chancellor nodded. "precisely. nothing more, nothing less. i ask for simple requests, i hope you can see to them. i'll admit, i wasn't confident with this ask seeing as you've rejected every other chancellor that has come forth. but... i have enough audacity to show up here now.”

sylus chuckles in amusement. “well i’m here to reward you with such audacity. the n109 is happy to help with your crisis. as along as my informants can get in touch with yours, there should be no problem transporting weaponry and a few armed troops, if you so wish.”

the twins and chancellor stare at sylus in shock. luke and kieran in actual, genuine shock and the chancellor in a more elated shock.

sylus? head of the selfish n109 zone? finally aiding those who came to him? unheard of.

“you are… being serious, master?” the chancellor stammers.

sylus doesn’t answer, he just continues smiling.

“i…i’ll have my informants contact yours then, n…no issue at all! we’ll just go through weaponry checks and other stuff to ensure the authenticity of it all… but not because we doubt you! it… it’s only routine, please take no offense.”

“none taken,” sylus rumbles.

the chancellor nods eagerly, an obvious sweat appearing on his skin even with sylus all amicable like this. “we truly appreciate this step then, master sylus! i wish to bother you no more! i shall see myself out!” he bows gently to the twins and then to sylus before scurrying out the main lobby of the estate, out of sight.

dumbfounded. luke and kieran were dumbfounded.

“boss?” luke furrows his brows. he looks at the empty space where the chancellor just was and then to sylus. “boss, why… why did you do that?”

sylus tilts his head and raises a brow. “did you not hear him? eversnow needed aid, i’m giving it to them.”

“but!” kieran interjected, “but you told us rather die than send our aid to other sovereignties! how can you change your mind like that?”

sylus glances at the floor, perhaps in thought, and sighs. “you two question everything i do, why is that? i guess i’ve had a change of heart…”

the twins glance at each other then take off their masks to reveal their accusatory expressions. “you’ve never had a ‘change of heart’ before, boss,” luke frowns, sensing something else was up.

kieran felt the odd energy too. he steps forward. “yeah, does this have to do anything with that-“ immediately luke pulls his brother back and shuts him up with a look.

don’t talk about the vampire.

unspoken rule ever since the “kidnapping” incident.

sylus narrows his eyes at the twins. “i don’t appreciate the interrogation. you’re almost making me rethink giving up the base codes to you two.”

luke and kieran glance at each other once again. “base codes?!” they say in unison.

luke speaks first. “what… what do you mean? like you’re giving us the codes to all the machinery and vaults and stuff?”

kieran scoffs. “no way, he’s bluffing. you’ve kept those things under wraps since we’ve known you.”

sylus doesn’t say anything. instead, he just smiles again. the twins are met with disbelief.

“boss… are you really trusting us with that sort of thing? why? you’re being… oddly nice…” kieran laughs nervously.

“am i?” sylus shrugs. “i thought you two would prefer the kinder side of me.” he turns around and faces the hall down the lobby, about to make his leave. it was true. the air around seemed lighter, but there was something off about him that was hard to point out.

definitely though, boss seemed more sluggish and less combative than usual.

“you’ll be hearing from base soon, keep your comms open, be as diligent as i expected you to be.” he says with a slowly diminishing voice. soon, both his body and his voice were no longer with luke and kieran.

the twins just kinda… stare at hall for a moment before looking to each other for some sort of answer.

“boss is scary me now,” kieran whispers. “i knew he was prone to being moody but i’ve never seen him so… light?”

luke nods in agreement. “you think that vampire girl is in his ear or something? making him softer? i can’t really tell if that’s a good or bad thing, but he’s changed so much since we last saw him.”

kieran grunts at the mention of you. he turns his face away in equal parts disgust and disdain. “fuck that, he might be boss but it’s not who he is authentically. he’s been changed and it—“

“kieran,” luke reprimands gently. “we agreed not to bring her up anymore unless it was unnecessary. listen, we’ve tried, we’ve failed. there’s quite literally nothing we can do anymore. dwelling on her… the situation, it’s only gonna make us more upset.”

kieran sighs in defeat. luke was right, but he hated to admit it. even if they mutually agreed not to talk about it anymore, there was always unspoken tension around… her. you.

“i know, luke. i’m sorry. just scares me,” kieran grumbles.

luke smiles gently at his brother’s acceptance. it wa the best thing for them. “he’s trusting us now with base codes, no matter the reason, we shouldn’t let him down. okay?”

kieran reciprocates luke’s warm smile. “okay.”

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you pop your fangs out of sylus’s wrist and lick the last of his blood off of your lips. another satisfying and sweet feeding that left you utterly full and happy. sylus smiles down at you and uses the hand you just bit to pet you gently.

“feeling good?” he asked warmly.

you nod. “yeah, so good.”

“the shorter sessions aren’t unsatisfying right?”

you shake your head. “not at all. it’s better to keep you conscious anyway. your tolerance… it’s-”

sylus stops your words with hurried kiss. it was still unusual to be so casually “intimate” with him, but you allowed it… for his sake.

“don’t talk about that stuff,” he murmurs against your lips. “you don’t have to worry about me. as long as you get your fill. smile for me?”

you blink blankly before offering him a small, polite smile. it was surprisingly genuine but only because of his promise. as long as you get your fill. those words were enough to keep you greedy for days.

“so pretty,” sylus mumbles.

you clear your throat uncomfortably and pull back from his vicinity. a strange feeling was welling up within you. it wasn’t affection, no. it was unease. something felt off about sylus and you weren’t sure what it was.

he was acting a little different. happier, lighter, gentler, but… different. it was hard to pinpoint but it wasn’t like you were complaining. you had nothing to complain about as long as you got blood.

“sylus, can i ask you something?” you say as you lay back on the bed. this guest bed had turned into the alcove for you and him. hiding from everything else, you two spent the most time here.

he nodded. “yes.”

“you’ve spent a lot more time with me lately. usually you’re off doing… work. not as much now?”

sylus smiles kindly at you. “not as much now,” he confirms. “the twins are doing a lot of new hands-on work and my base has always been auto-operating. usually, i'd oversee everything and work out the kinks but..." he glances at you and looks down, a hint of somber in his eyes, "not as much now." you nod slightly. you notice the slight droop in his eyes and the tremor in his hands. as much as he tried to mask it, he was frail. whether this new happy persona was a facade, though, you couldn't tell. "anyway," he exhales loudly while pushing himself off the bed. he raises his hand and gently grazes your bite mark. "it's been fun trying out new feeding spots for you. which one has been your favorite?" "neck," you respond, "just what i'm used to." "i agree, neck. to me, it's the most intimate. it where i can best keep you safe."

you smirk slightly, "safe? it's always just you and i. i'm... always safe." sylus stills for a moment at the admission and then melts fondly. "you're always safe," he repeats. "i'm going into the shower, would you like to join me?" while the question is abnormal, you've gotten used to sylus trying to initiate intimate things with you. you always decline. "no, i'm alright." he nods. "don't go anywhere then," he teases. you watch sylus disappear behind the corner to the connected bathroom and wait until you heard the shower turn on to absolutely lose your mind.

immediately you begin scratching your neck and arms like a madwoman, frustration at every scrap. you could feel the withdrawal aching from your bones. you needed more blood, you were barely holding on.

at some point sylus's blood drew thinner and more bitter, making your feeding session less than satisfying. after a month of his blood, you've become hooked, addicted, absolutely insane over him and his blood. no, scratch that, insane only over his blood.

an addiction was an understatement. you spent your days growling and restless, right outside of sylus's eyesight. hunger was plaguing you and it was worse than when you first became a vampire. it took every ounce of power within you to not make it seem obvious, but god, that took so much energy.

it was vicious cycle of not being fed well, expending energy keeping it in, and needing more feedings to keep you going. you were growing angrier despite your blood bag being as enthusiastic as you needed him to be.

just let it out, let it out before he finishes his shower. these small moments of reprieve where you no longer had to mask your hunger were what kept you going. the worst part about it was knowing you were the one poisoning your blood bag. all these feedings were taking a toll on him in turn making his health decline in turn causing his blood to worsen in quality. it was no longer so abundant. his blood loss was so intense that every feeding became shorter and shorter just so you wouldn't knock him unconscious, or worse, stop his heart.

if your physical problems weren't already hard enough, the mental anguish you felt was also suffocating. one half of your mind was desperate and greedy. vampiric biology was blinding you and making you aggressive and you couldn't help but have selfish desires. the other part of your mind was cautious and regretful. simmering human emotions and an undeniable connection to sylus made you hesitate and feel pity for him. and despite the confliction, you couldn't deny your body, no matter how much your mind tried to pull back. cut off a limb and that's all someone will think about. cut off a blood supply and that's all a vampire will think about. your anguish on the bed continued and only stopped when you forced it to. you heard the shower turning off. he would be out soon.

deep breaths, just take deep breaths. hone it in and savor the feedings you had today. just relax.

reigning in your hunger was simultaneously getting easier and harder. easier from practice, harder from worsening hunger. but you didn't have a choice.

the bathroom door opens and sylus swings around the same corner in nothing but a towel over his hips. he was dripping wet from head to toe. "you haven't moved an inch," sylus remarks after noticing that you were in the same spot on the bed, "waiting for me?" "um... just thinking about stuff. lost in my own head." "is something the matter?" you shake your head. "no, like i said i was just thinking about things. nothing serious." sylus eyes you for a few seconds before turning around and heading toward his closet. you couldn't tell if he suspicious or not but he let it go. "alright," he murmurs. "i'm heading into my office to finish up some paperwork. come with me." "finally doing your job around here?" you chuckle humorlessly. "something like that," he responds while shuffling through his hangers, "just need to finish what i started a few days ago. been too busy with you that i forgot, but it's a timely thing. i don't have much time to complete it." you swallow tensely, the hunger striking deep within your stomach. you try to ignore it. "alright, then," you simply respond.

after spending what felt like an agonizingly long time in the bedroom, sylus brought you to his office a few floors up.

for the past hour he's been at his desk pondering and writing while you sat a bit away on a cushioned couch. he provided you small things to keep you occupied - books, blank paper to write on, even his comms radio for music, but none of them were really that interesting to you.

you kept looking back at him. whatever he was writing kept his attention fully, which was never the case. usually, he'd check up on you or take a few minutes break, but not today. it was so strange. he was so strange lately.

it seemed as if both you and him were hiding something in equal parts. you with your hunger and him with his... whatever it may be.

finally, after a long while, sylus lifts his head up from his desk and peers over to you. you were staring at the inside of a book. "is it riveting?" he asks in a low tone so as to not startle you from the quiet. you glance at him curiously. "the book you're clearly not reading, i mean." you frown and put the book down beside the other discarded entertaining "toys" he'd brought you. "can't seem to focus," you sigh, "are you finally done with your... work?"

sylus stands from his desk chair and adjusts the cuffs of his shirft before walking around the table and over to you. "i am," he grins slightly, "mostly done. maybe a few tweaks but i'm happy with it. you seem restless, hungry?" the word causes you to twitch. yes, yes you were hungry. so goddamn hungry. "a little," you brush it off.

sylus stops by the side of the couch and kneels to your level. "a little?" he repeats, "that's enough for me. move over, let me feed you."

no hesitation on your part.

it took all of thirty seconds for you and sylus to get into proper positions. it was routine at this point which made the entire process somewhat comforting.

"there's my vampire... ah... take what you need," sylus groans in pain. he was bear hugging you on his lap and tilting his head to the side for better access. despite your multiple complaints, he could never stop praising and talking you through your feeding sessions. he's always in your ear, always touching your sides and back, always trying to get every part of you as close to him as possible.

it's in his own skewed way, but this was his way of showing love. accepting you. accepting what and who you are. a vampire. you were his monster now, and he would treat you good.

it took everything in you to not ravage the side of sylus's neck and bite a piece off of him. it was still good but it wasn't enough. it wasn't as delicious the first day you bit him and it definitely wasn't as thick. you didn't even care about his affections anymore, you needed sustenance.

while it was his heartbeat was the main telltale sign of his blood loss, it wasn't the only "major" sign. every helpless grind of his hips against yours reminded you of the pleasure sylus received from your feedings. but the more feedings you did, the harder it was for him to maintain an erection. not enough blood to support him down there.

even now, as you growled and whimpered into his neck for more blood, he pathetically pumped up against you with was his half-hard. he noticed it too, but he didn't care. he got enough out of this, and it wasn't like he was going to be used his appendage any time soon. "sylus," you cry into into his neck in frustration. it wasn't enough. "ngh... y... yes?" he drawls out. goddamn it, his heart was slowing again. you take a few more greedy slurps past his limit and then pop off his neck. another low cry escaped you. it hurt so bad not getting what you needed. "hey..." sylus whispers, his eyes fluttering as his mind tries to keep him awake. he weakly reaches up to your face and strokes your cheek. "what's wrong? n...not good? too much? t...take more... if you... need..." you wrap your hand around sylus's wrist to ground both you and him. it was taking every atom in your body to not just dive back in and drink until you were satisfied. your knuckles go white around his wrist, and you forcibly shake your head. "n..no, i'm okay. it was good," you strain out. by the time you open your eyes, sylus was already knocked out against the couch. you curse yourself mentally for... for everything! this entire relationship, for your hunger, for nothing drinking more, for not drinking less, for meeting your long-lost lover again, for not loving him as much anymore. you let go of his wrist and it falls limp to his side. you remove yourself from sylus's lap and sit next to him on the couch, head in hands and body quivering from frustration and defeat.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"can you believe that luke?" kieran laughs triumphantly, "all of base was looking to us for guidance! like we were boss! i've never had this much power before, it's so nice."

luke side-smiles his brother, "it was really nice. they came to us with the big questions! we were running that place so smoothly. i don't know why boss waited until now to give us this much freedom. we're great at it!" the twins nudge each other and giggle enthusiastically at their job well done back at base. they only learned from the best, so they emulated the best

kieran puts his palms up. "okay, but we can't be too giddy about this. remember this isn't a game. this is onichynus and the whole of the n109 zone."

luke copies his brother's gesture. "right, no goofing around."

the two stop their walking and look at each other with growing smiles. they begin giggling again, basking in their new positions within onichynus. "ah!" luke chastises. "serious, remember, we have to be serious." kieran clears his throat and nods. "yes, of course, serious. what high ranking members of onichynus would we be if we're... fawning." he side-eyes luke and stifles another snicker. it had been long since the two could genuinely be happy about something related to the n109 zone.

they approach the outskirts of the estate and wait for the new security to sign them in. with their new IDs they scan past the convoluted mechanics and step into the manor.

"i still can't believe boss would just... share power with us like this," kieran sighs. "i mean... we both know he has majority power and could revoke our privileges, even though that'd be a major asshole move-but still!" luke puts away his ID and takes off his crow mask, leading kieran to do the same. their shared expression was one of deliberation. "i know what you mean," luke agrees, "he's always been so private-private. but boss wouldn't just give us all this access and power without a plan. i don't know... he trusts us so i trust him." "agreed," kieran huffs in exasperation. "but, like, base codes were one thing, but telling base we were in charge for the mean time? telling them to listen to our directions? that's... that's honestly surprising. he's always kept base strictly under his order." "maybe... maybe it's some type of simulation? so he can see how well we do when in-charge. y'know... for future reference." the twins give each other a perplexed look. it seemed like neither of them had a good idea what was happening with their boss.

"i mean..." kieran murmurs, "i know you didn't wanna talk about her but like... we can't ignore the fucking elephant in the estate, luke." luke furrows his brows in upset. he begins walking down the main hall to try and avoid this conversation of you and your influence, despite knowing how right his brother was. "luke, c'mon luke don't be like that," kieran calls out while following his brother. he grabs luke's wrist and holds his hand comfortingly to try and keep his brother calm for a rather uncomfortable conversation. "listen, i won't bawl my eyes out about it anymore, but everything's change since she showed up." "wrong," luke sighs in annoyance but he squeezes his brother's hand. "i already told you boss had been weird way before she showed up." "yeah but that was like... fucking puberty, i don't know," kieran retorts. "literally, what does that even mean?" kieran shakes his head to clear his racing thoughts. no matter how much the conversation was to be avoided, both of them knew it was wrong to have you here and even wrong-er to have sylus coddling you. "what i'm trying to say," kieran groans, "is that boss was just going through some personal mental issues before. y'know the type you'd find embarrassing to talk about with two teenagers. but now, he's actively hiding stuff from us and is trying to convince us that he's okay." "so you're saying he's lying," luke tries to confirm. "i'm saying he's being deluded. that she's been getting into his head, whispering shit, making him crazy with her fucking... vampiric ways. as much as i love having this power, i don't want it unless boss gives it to us authentically, y'know?" luke stops in the middle of the hall and frowns while looking away to the side. kieran had a point. what was all this glory in onychinus and in the n109 zone if the man that gave it to them didn't even truly mean it that way? what if boss wasn't really boss. luke nods in agreement. "you're right, kieran. as much as it feels good it also doesn't feel right. but we can't go confronting anyone about this. last time we did that we saw a whole different level of anger from him." kieran grabs luke's other hand and squeezes them both in reassurance. "then we won't confront, we just... ask a few harmless questions. y'know like... asking him about how we can lead base better, if he could come help us, what roles suits us best. small things and we can slowly build a bigger picture." luke's eyes widen with a small sparkle of hope. his brother was so smart. "yeah, i like that. nothing too headstrong. maybe we could go find him now? it's evening, he's either awake or about to wake up." that's all it took for a plan to be set.

now where exactly sylus was in the estate was the harder question. they don't see sylus, not unless he makes himself shown. it felt like the estate was empty most days, but they just knew him and that wretched vampire were constantly here.

the manor was too big and too vast to search each room one by one, and they also didn't wanna run the risk of finding you by accident. they had to carefully choose which rooms to look in even if it got frustrating.

after clearing the main floor levels, there were only a few other logical places to check. "no one?" kieran asks disappointedly.

"no one," luke confirms.

"well if he's not in his bedroom then that leaves his office. unless he's stationed in the fucking vacuum closet." "let's just go and have a look." a few floors up and a few halls down later, they approached the office the lights were left on which gave them some hope, but after a few knocks and pure silence that hope died down. "he's not in there either," luke says. "maybe he is in there, the lights are on," kieran insists with his hand on the knob. "i don't care if the vampire is in there either, i just want to see him again." the knob clicks and the door opens to an empty but messy room. the desk was overloaded with files, and the couch had out of place books and paper scribbles near it. the twins felt a mutual upset. "maybe he is stationed in a vacuum closet," luke murmurs. he looks to kieran who seemed oddly still and quiet by the door. melancholy in his eyes. "kieran, are you alright?" "yeah, i just..." kieran trails off, "it's been so long since we've been in here, and we used to come here all the time, y'know? we got so scared of him... and of her. i just... miss him." luke feels a pang of empathy for his brother. call it twin-telepathy but he knew the exact sequence of emotions kieran was feeling at the moment because he was feeling it too. it stung, bad. "i miss him too," luke smiles somberly, "lets just... stay here for a while. we've been searching for a bit, lets take a break." the two fully step into the office and look around as if it was their first time being in there. the state of everything was almost humorous. it was so disheveled and unorganized, completely unlike sylus. they poke around the couch they used to lounge in and get a faint whiff of blood. sickening. ignoring the mess, they move around and reminisce to themselves. it'd only be a few months, but it felt like an eternity of stress. all that was missing from the room was sylus. "hehe, look i'm boss," kieran teases to lighten up the mood. he was rolling around in sylus's desk chair and sitting in the same authoritative position sylus did. "woah boss, when did you shrink?" luke smiles. "lost all your muscle too, what happened to ya?" "hey, i have muscle!" kieran laughs. "i mean, i lost it all 'cause i was too busy jerking off or whatever. but i can build it back! all i have to do is organize this room and i'll be beefy again." the twins share a warm laugh. their mimicry of sylus never stopped, even when their hearts were heavy. luke looks around the room fondly one more time and sighs. "alright, enough playing around, i think. we should-"

"woah, what the hell?"

luke's attention focuses back on kieran. "what? what's wrong?"

kieran picks up a paper from the desk, ironically next to your crumpled up death report. the entire thing was in a familiar red handwriting, at the top, a surprising address. kieran points at it. "look," he whispers, "To Luke and Kieran."

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you gasp awake from sleep.

the room around you was dim, probably late into the night. the last thing you remembered was going under the duvet and wishing sylus a goodnight before squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of ignoring your hunger. bad idea.

the pain in your stomach was no longer just in your stomach. it was behind your eyes, under your skin, in your fangs. it was molten hot like never before and it woke you up brutally.

your nails dig into your arms causing breaks and scratches into your skin. it felt like death itself was crawling into your body and heeding you it's warning. you whip your head over to sylus's sleeping form next to you and hold back a shriek. he was so close... so so close. right there. that's all you needed to make this feeling go away.

the dam was breaking, and it wasn't slow either. your noises could no longer be suppressed; wails and growls were coming out of you with intensity. for the first time, the word monster felt real. a vicious, vampiric monster was crawling out of you and you were helpless against it.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, please. please," you sob silently to yourself as intense pains ache deep within your chest. you were sure to whom you were begging to, maybe just to yourself. but you weren't alone in this room. "mngh," sylus murmurs your name, "are you alr-" before he knew it you lunged onto him and pinned his arms to his side with unbelievable strength. sylus couldn't fight back. not only because he was too weak to but a part of him didn't want to. this was... you. this was it.

"please," you cry out in between fierce snarls, "i need you. anything, give me... anything."

the words felt all to familiar to sylus. the desperation did too. he could barely make out your face in the dim but he knew that you were struggling. not just now but he knew that you had been struggling with your hunger. he knew you would break soon. you couldn't hide it from him.

monster knew monster well.

"take it," sylus whispers. he meant more than just his blood.

two words was all it took for the last of your sanity to be whisked away. with ease you dove fang-first into his neck and bit in the most ferocious manner possible. sylus lets out an agonizing scream at the pain. he had no strength left to fight off your bites anymore. you took everything.

with a bite this deep and strong you finally got the fill you were looking for. the blood pumping deep down your throat was hitting the addiction you built to him. no thoughts, no words, no kisses, no affection, it was just you feeding your desperation. you didn't even notice how limp sylus felt. you couldn't even tell that he was too weak to talk. you hadn't even detected his faint, slowing heartbeat.

it only took a weak cough of blood from him to bring you back to reality. and it was only then you noticed it all. "sylus!" you yell as you rip yourself off of him. his eyes were dim and barely fluttering. "sylus, fuck! wake up!"

his hand just barely comes up to yours. still there, was something there.

"you... are not a monster," he croaks. a faint smile flickers on his face. "thank you." your eyes stare in utter shock as the smile on his face fades into nothingness. nothing behind it. no light, no love, no sylus. you're frozen there with nothing but a hole in your chest.

you learned two things.

you lied to yourself; you did still love him. and grief was stronger than hunger.

the sound of the bedroom door opening didn't even register to your clouded mind, but the light peering did. it illuminated sylus's face to you.

eyes half open and dull, blood dripping out of his mouth, neck mutilated and brutalized by your bite. so much blood and such little hunger now. you look to the door where the light was seeping, two dark figures stood there. you didn't have to do much figuring out to know who they were, but you had no time think anyway.

one precise, savage shot of silver hit your chest and immediately rendered you immobilized and on your back next to sylus. it hurt. more than all the hunger you've faced as a vampire combined, it hurt. but you couldn't think of that in your last moments. you betrayed him, again. you killed him, again.

he gave the ultimate trade-off for you. his life.

muffled, distant noises came into your ears. screams, shouts, wailing, sobbing. it was unfortunate that those were the sounds you last heard before everything went dark.

by the door laid a forgotten piece of paper. at the top a surprising address in red ink.

To Luke and Kieran, I would like to firstly apologize for my neglect. I call you my sons, but I don't treat you with the respect you deserve. I haven't meant to dismiss you or treat you less than, I've always just wanted to protect you, but in-turn I've led you two to assume I don't trust you.

She's going to kill me. I can sense it. I give her blood to keep her alive and she's struggling with her limited source. I'm only one man, after all. I'm not upset by this. Not at all. At some point I realized there were only a few options for me. Kill her, then lose my only line of love, companionship, and my sense of morality. Restraint her, then become a hypocrite for treating her like the monster she never was. Or, let her kill me and be free. Nothing about my sovereignty has brought me acceptance and happiness like she has. I've always just kept living for the sake of my people. She helped me realize I no longer wanted that.

So, my words are misleading. While she is going to kill me, I'm letting her, even if she doesn't know it. I choose my suicide this way. It's what's best for me. I'm sorry that I'm telling you this way. I'm sorry at how unfair it is. I leave you with my estate, base, and all other mementos there are. Everything that is mine is now yours, including my title. You two are the new sovereignties of the N109 zone and the heads of ONICHYNUS.

Please bear these titles with honor and love. I trust you with them.

"BOSS,"

SYLUS.

thank you, if you've made it this far.

tl: @seventeen-x , @webshooterrr9 , @theycallmesoup , @satansdaughter123 , @tyasmaple , @jaynawayna , @jadeymeciela , @namjooningera , @phisen , @eepamaawo , @lolaisoffline, @floofycookie , @thejmins , @multisstuff , @meowgumiiii , @angelmagick , @mcdepressed290 , @msturi2u , @supershygirl , @alyssac9 , @creator-freak , @aenishas , @staytini ,

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connormoving · 10 months ago

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im so tired

#weeman has just been so. much. lately. and i try not to get frustrated with him bc it feels awful when i do but i have to just Leave the #room constantly lately bc he just doesnt stop #i want to be in the main house my room is fucking boiling all the time but i cannot be out there with him #he just has been so. moody lately and so like. whiny and he does this fake baby voice that irritates me sm and i hate how stressed it makes #me bc hes judt a kid but like. whenever he plays mc or wants to play mc its awful bc if i say no he Cries and screams and its a whole thing #and if he does play mc the second anything goes slightly wrong he cries and screams the entire time jm trying to fix it and he freaks out #abt fuckkng everything and it just makes me wish i had never let him play mc. which feels awful bc ik its fun for him and im glad hes so #reative with it and when hes in a good mood its fun 2 see him play it and im like. but hes so entitled sometimes and again i feel awful #saying that bc hes 6 but its like. i dont know. its stressful. i dont think i can ever be a parent ik i rly rly rly rly rly want kids and ik #like. hes like this bc my parents are not good parents its not his fault hes so tumultuous he doesnt have like. healthy emotional role #models. yk. i genuinely dont want to be mad at him for it but its exhausting to deal with him sometimes. i try rly hard not to snap at him #bc i dont want to be like my parents but like. I cant just leave the room all the time bc itll be him demanding i fix mc for him so if i #leave hell be more mad #so i have to stay while im fixing it but hes screaming and crying and demanding and insulting me andnlike. ik hes 6 and i just need to deal #with it but im exhausted. i love him so much hes such a sweet kid the majority of rhe time andni want to keep him safe and protect him #but i cant parent him. i cant Be his parent i judt wish he had better parents. i dont know. i try to be a good role model and stuff but i #like. idk. i dont think im meant to have kids if i cant even handle him

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celesteleoves · 1 year ago

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hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?

“I WANNA BE YOURS.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!

a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!

—

BAKUGOU KATSUKI —

he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.

he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .

he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.

“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”

you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).

he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.

your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.

he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.

kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.

“what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“you stalking y/n!”

“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…

bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.

SHOTO TODOROKI —

the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.

he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .

this boy will downright show his love for you.

we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.

that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?

cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.

you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flex that all the time.

meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you. as if he wasn’t the one to ask you to be his partner…

your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone down face up only for it to be flipped a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone and invading your privacy (this is literally so me guys..)

he is very attentive, he’s SUCH a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.

there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite pieces of food for the snack .

once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of the food you wanted.

starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.

“here.” a soft, very loving voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.

“oh thank god you’re here sho’, i can’t find my-”

“y/n. here.”

you finally looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.

your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.

he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!

—

a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍

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deathbxnny · 8 months ago

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Arcane characters when someone flirts with you. | Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Sevika x Gn!Reader

I am the brain rot. The brain rot is me.✨️

Content: pre season 2 Viktor/Jayce!, Jealousy, pitfighter Vi, established romantic relationships, angst, threats of violence/death threats, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He always struggled with self-esteem issues, mainly due to his sickness and disability that made it difficult for him to do much. A part of him forever will believe that you could easily do better than him, yet that doesn't stop him from getting terribly jealous anytime someone gets too friendly with you. Especially when they can see him standing next to you clearly being your partner as well.

But despite his insecurities, he doesn't allow anyone to harass you either on his watch. He lets you defend yourself for the most part until he has enough and lets his more sassy side handle the flirtatious person for you. He may not be able to do anything in a physical way, something he very much would rather avoid. But his tongue is sharp, and it takes little to make them quickly scurry away with a nervous apology for the disturbance.

He'll never admit to being jealous, however, and denies any teasing accusations you send his way. But he'll secretly ask for reassurance as he starts feeling embarrassed over his insecurities rather quickly after. A couple of hugs and kisses from your side will fix that right up, though.

》JAYCE

He has a reputation to keep up. And so, technically, he should always handle things professionally no matter what. People are watching him after all, and his public image can not be tarnished under any circumstance... or so he says. Things change in his mind when they are about you. In general, people know who you are and who you belong to since he rarely shuts up about it.

But every now and then, someone who is somehow unfamiliar with this concept will come up to you and attempt to woo you right in front of his very eyes. Now, Jayce tries to let you handle yourself, but doesn't hesitate to step in either if the person doesn't get the hint. His rather intimidating frame and position as a councilor help him out Immensely with this. He chases them away with a tight smile and a kiss to your head, as he casually asks how he can oh so graciously help them.

Once they leave, he'll pretend not to hear you, of you teasingly asking him if he was jealous. Him? Jealous? Hah! Impossible... okay, maybe a little. But don't tell anyone that.

》VI

As a pitfighter, Vi doesn't hesitate to get violent with anyone who comes close to the only good thing she has left in her life, which happens to be you. She's extremely protective and makes sure everyone gets the hint regarding who you belong to. But alas, there are always the couple strays that refuse to comprehend that fact and therefore attempt to "steal" you away from her. Something that never ends well for anyone.

Her temper is shorter than it used to be, and that becomes quite clear when she's quick to loom over the person that was pestering you. She knows that you can handle yourself just fine, too. But that doesn't stop her from grabbing their shoulder and asking them if she can help them out instead. Or maybe they want to talk it out in the pit? All the same to her, but the message is clear. She'll win if it comes to you every time, and that's enough to make the person scurry away in terror.

You'll definitely have to calm her down and reassure that you had everything handled. She's just looking out for you, though, and doesn't want you to get hurt, too, like everyone else in her life. The last thing she wants is to mess up again, so her overprotective tendencies will probably never lessen. Not that you kind anyways.

》CAITLYN

Your role as her partner is crystal clear to absolutely everyone in Piltover, especially after she takes over the troops as their new ruler. She's much more cutthroat and cold than she used to be before her mothers death, which made her extremely overprotective of you and your safety. She may even be suffocating at times with her security measures, but she finds it absolutely necessary. This also means, however, that those who try becoming a bit too friendly with you are always at risk of facing her wrath.

She doesn't hold back with her dismay and is quick to stand before you with a dark, stern glare directed at whoever was flirting with you beforehand. Caitlyn doesn't care if you can take care of yourself or not either. She'll take full advantage of her new position and power too, not hesitating to give the person that was pestering you a professionally worded threat that leaves them as pale as a ghost.

Admittedly, it's hard to tell if she's jealous or just worried in her own way. Before her mother's death, it may very well just be her being a bit jealous... but with her current position, she may also just be afraid to lose you too deep down. And she couldn't handle that.

》JINX

After Silco's death, Jinx's temper is milder than before due to her deteriorating mental health (if there was anything left of it to begin with). She's a lot calmer when handling situations and seeming more calculated than before, but that certainly doesn't quell the extreme abandonment issues in her at any rate. If anything, they've become much worse than before. This means that she'll cling to you and snap at anyone who nears you. No one is allowed to steal your attention away from her. No one can take you away from her. She just won't allow it when you're all she has left.

And so, she won't hesitate to use her gun on anyone who is pestering you. A death threat or two usually gets the point across anyway. Jinx will also let you handle yourself first, however though, knowing you can easily do that. But if things do get out of hand, she will step right to scare them away at best. She'd never kill anyone infront of you after all. She doesn't want to scare you away.

You'll have to reassure her of your loyalty a lot afterward, however, as her insecurities and issues can make her spiral fairly easily. Giving her a lot of attention and love makes everything go away, though, luckily.

》SEVIKA

She's very secure in your relationship and trusts you perfectly fine, which is why she rarely ever gets jealous. Why should she, anyway, when you'll always come back to her at the end of the day? Besides, people in the lanes know who you are and who you belong to, and most importantly, what will happen to their faces once she bashes them in if they ever harass you too much.

With that said, though, she typically lets you do your own thing and chase the person away yourself first before bothering to step in. If things get out of hand, then she'll suddenly be right behind you and tower over whoever it is that's not getting the hint. Blowing smoke right into their faces, she'll ask them if they have a problem, and if yes, then they should take it up with her outside. Although everyone knows she's the only one back afterwards. This usually does the trick.

Don't expect her to ever say that she is jealous, though, and hopes you know better, too. She knows you're loyal, as she certainly is for life and therefore doesn't worry about a thing regarding the strength of your relationship.

No one is better than her anyway.

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dollishmehrayan · 7 months ago

Text

BATBOYS TOXIC TRAITS / RED FLAGS + GREEN FLAGS ── .✦

a/n: the thing is, they all aren’t like problematic when it comes to relationships but they do have some things and flaws which when heard sound “oh okay that’s fine” but may be like super annoying in a irl relationship also this was a request by anon (here)! (Tags: batboys x reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Chronic People-Pleaser: Will prioritize everyone’s needs over his own (or yours), leading to burnout… and you having to remind him you exist.

Flirty by Nature: He’s not trying to flirt… it just happens. That waitress? Nope, not on purpose, but yeah, you’ll roll your eyes a lot.

Hero Complex: He always has to “save” people, including you, even when you’re perfectly fine handling it yourself. “I got it, babe.” No, you don’t, Dick.

GREEN FLAGS:

Emotionally Intelligent: He can read your mood like a book and knows exactly how to make you smile (with pancakes shaped like hearts).

Physical Affection Expert: Hugs, cuddles, forehead kisses—you’re basically his personal teddy bear.

Supportive King: He’s your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up in the most genuine, heartfelt ways. “That’s my girl.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Anger Issues: He’ll throw hands for you at the slightest provocation. Guy looks at you wrong? Jason’s already removing his jacket.

Emotionally Guarded: Good luck getting him to open up. He’s more likely to tell you his deepest fears after you’ve fallen asleep.

Reckless Behavior: He’ll drag you into the most insane situations and act like it’s no big deal. “What do you mean this is dangerous? It’s fine.”

GREEN FLAGS:

Loyal to a Fault: He’ll defend you with his life, no questions asked. “You mess with her, you mess with me.”

Soft Romantic: Beneath the tough exterior, he’s writing you sweet notes and remembering the little things, like how you take your coffee.

Protective (in a good way): He won’t smother you, but he’ll make sure you always feel safe, even if it’s just crossing the street.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Workaholic: He’ll forget to eat, sleep, and sometimes text you back because “the case was just getting good!”

Overthinks Everything: Spends hours analyzing your last text to figure out if you were mad or just tired. “Was that period passive-aggressive?”

Terrible Self-Care: You’ll have to force him to drink water and go to bed like a mom with a rebellious child.

GREEN FLAGS:

Incredibly Thoughtful: He remembers every detail about you, from your favorite flower to that obscure hobby you mentioned once.

Adorably Awkward: His shy smiles and fumbling over words when you flirt back are endlessly endearing.

Problem Solver: He’ll find solutions to all your problems, from fixing your computer to making your bad day better with tea and soft music.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Insanely Jealous: He glares daggers at anyone who looks at you too long. “Why is he breathing near you?”

Judgmental: He might critique your taste in music, books, or anything else with his usual bluntness. “This… is what you listen to?”

Control Freak: He likes things done a certain way and will try to “help” you by micromanaging your life.

GREEN FLAGS:

Devoted Partner: Once he’s in, he’s all in. You’ll never doubt his commitment because he’s always showing up for you.

Loyal Beyond Measure: He’ll defend your honor to anyone, even Bruce. “She’s perfect, Father. You simply lack taste.”

Surprisingly Gentle: Despite his tough exterior, he has a soft side that only you get to see, like the way he pets animals—or you—so tenderly.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

RED FLAGS:

Emotionally Repressed: He’s basically a human brick wall when it comes to expressing his feelings. “I’m… fine.” No, Bruce, you’re not.

Work Comes First: He’ll disappear into the Batcave for days unless you drag him out by the cape which becomes quickly annoying.

Overprotective: He’ll want to track your every move, not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he worries too much. “It’s for your safety.”

GREEN FLAGS:

Quietly Romantic: He may not be overly expressive, but he’ll show love through subtle gestures—like a bouquet of your favorite flowers left on the table.

Ultimate Provider: He makes sure you never want for anything, whether it’s emotional support or physical comfort.

Unshakable Devotion: Once you’ve captured his heart, he’s yours forever. There’s no halfway with Bruce—he’s in it for the long haul.

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lemonlover1110 · 1 month ago

Text

𝐑𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬

Sukuna

Pairing: Knight!Sukuna x Queen!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Smut, Cheating, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Fingering

Sukuna loves the risk. Ever since his promotion as the queen's guard, he knew life would become boring but who would've thought he'd like this position better.

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“You’re such an asshole.” You giggle as Sukuna lifts your dress, getting right between your legs. He does everything in his power to get you caught. He knows the risk that comes with it but he simply doesn’t care. Sukuna loves the risk, even when he knows he could die at the end of a sword.

The sun is still out, and the palace roams for you. And yet here you are, hiding out with the man that’s supposed to protect you. A queen hiding out from her servants, from her own king for a few minutes of pleasure. You were never this type of woman but he brings out the worst in you.

He shushes you, calloused fingers caressing your inner thighs as his eyes land on his prey. He loves the adrenaline rush. He loves the fact that he’s turned a dull job into a complete and utter thrill. His death is at the tip of a spear. One misstep from a servant could end this all in the most violent way, and in his fucked up head, he loves it.

“Make it quick–” You order as he pushes your panties to the side, spitting on your cunt. Your breath gets caught up in your chest, and you bite down your lip as you feel his tongue run through your folds. Your hands go to the back of his head, pulling him closer.

Sukuna sucks on your clit, pushing two fingers inside you, curving them just right. He wants to hear you scream. He wants damn near everyone to hear you. He wants someone to barge in as you force him to hide in the room. He loves that adrenaline rush. He loves living on the edge with you.

“Fuck… Fuck.” You mutter, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Sukuna flicks his tongue on your clit. He wants to reprimand you for your foul mouth, but his mouth is too busy to do anything else. His fingers slowly pick up speed as he moves them in and out of you.

“Suku–” Your thoughts are cut off by footsteps near the room. Footsteps that he so clearly hears, yet chooses to ignore because he's too deep in a nectar and he refuses to stop until he’s satisfied. You cover your mouth as you realize he has no intention of stopping. Instead he does everything in his power to get you to break.

“Wait… There’s someone–” A moan escapes your lips as he hits just the right spot. You’re pulling on his hair, trying your best to contain yourself. “Fuck, fuck– Wait, Sukuna–”

You have to stop him, hearing the footsteps get closer. You have to get him off you, ears perked up to see if someone threatens to open the door. Sukuna doesn’t take it seriously though, hand going to his belt to undo it. For a knight, he sure lacks caution.

“I heard he’s pressing you for an heir.” He begins as he unbuckles his belt. You bite down your lip, watching as he gets undressed. There’s people right outside, you really shouldn’t. There’s a smug smile on his face, absolutely thrilled over his misdeeds– Over your lack of loyalty. His lips land on yours momentarily before they go down your neck. “I’ll help you in the process.”

“And when the baby comes out with pink hair and a wicked smile? What then?” Your back is arching as Sukuna kisses your cleavage.

“We’ve fooled him long enough,” is all he manages to say. And for a moment you’re actually convinced. He nibbles on your earlobe before he whispers, “We’ve been sneaking around right under his nose, and he hasn’t caught on.”

“You’re evil.” You giggle as his hands go between your legs again. “Let’s do it.”

“Hmmm… Spell it out for me.” He replies, slowly pulling his pants down.

“Fuck a baby into me.” You respond, and just as he spreads your legs, you hear the doorknob. Your eyes widen and you push Sukuna off you, trying to fix yourself before anyone catches you looking indecent.

“Get under the bed.” You order, knowing that it’ll be difficult for someone as big and muscular as Sukuna to fit underneath, but the room is too big for him to get anywhere else in a matter of seconds. You’re burning up, feeling as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

“It’s a little too early for a nap, no?” You hear your husband’s voice, and you sheepishly smile, smoothing out your dress.

“Dear, what are you doing here?” You sound guilty as charged. You hear some whining underneath the bed, causing you to kick it as loud as you possibly can.

“Where’s your knight?” He inquires, noting the room smells different. You clearly weren’t here alone. “Is he in here?”

“My knight?” You respond. “Oh, Sukuna! I let him off the hook early. I’m feeling unwell.”

“Really?” His eyes narrow, noting an unusual shadow from under the bed. You notice.

“But since you’re here.” You stand up, walking over to him and wrapping your hands behind his neck. You’ll entertain him enough for Sukuna to get out of the room. It wouldn’t be the first time.

#ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #jjk sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader smut

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abbotsanatomy · 3 months ago

Note

Jack x reader

Possessive & Protective Jack. Reader is the hospital social worker. Jack finds out a grieving family member has been stalking and harassing reader.!

⨳ (I’LL BE WATCHING YOU)

pairing: jack abbot x social worker!reader warnings: age gap (28, and 49), depictions of stalking, grief, child death, epilepsy (seizures), verbal assault, physical assault. author's note: this was a rough one to write tbh! hope u like! title’s totally inspired by ‘every breath you take,’ i love double meanings lol

“Good morning!” you greet, strolling into the ER break room.

You set aside the coffees you bought for everyone. It's your turn to bring everyone their fix tonight. They're nothing fancy, as can be expected from someone who earns almost half of what everyone else around here does.

You pick one of the brown coffee cups up from the paper cupholder on the counter, “Or, Y'know. Good night?”

“Live-saver!” one of the second-year residents yells. She's quick to grab one of the coffees, too.

The few people in the break room do the same, thanking you along the way. They slowly filter out, presumably going to tell everyone the break room's stocked up again so they can get their own before it's all gone.

It's just you and Dana Evans in the small room now. She's never been one for rushing home the moment her shift's over. She always lingers, you feel like you might know her even better than the night shift's charge nurse. The affinity you have for her can also be attributed, in huge part, to the fact that the veteran charge nurse reminds you of Dr.Abbot.

“Hey, kid. I heard what happened yesterday,” she starts. “Are you good?”

Wow. Word gets around much quicker than you expected. What happened yesterday should've been less than a blip on someone like Dana's radar.

The situation in question was just a grieving parent who'd said some pretty nasty things to you. He was in shock. You understand. You have to; it's your job.

His anger was justified. You were partially responsible for him missing his kid's last few moments. The memories kept you up all day.

The girl was barely two. When they came in, she was having an epileptic seizure that wouldn't go away. Upon further investigation, the doctors, with a neuro consult, told her father there was a surgery that could reduce her seizures. He'd heard about it before, but he was skeptical.

Apparently, having had his seizing daughter in his arms, unable to do anything but wait for an ambulance changed his mind.

There was one minor problem, though. Before they could get his daughter prepped for surgery, the hospital needed his insurance documents. She was stable; this wasn't emergency surgery. So the financial aspect was, unfortunately, a priority.

“Her mother's out of town. It's just me. I can't leave her alone,” he'd told you.

“Well, she still needs to be monitored for a while. And I understand you want the surgery immediately,” you'd reasoned with him. “Maybe you can make it home and back quickly, before she wakes up.”

He was hesitant at first, but you were determined. You'd help where you can.

“I'll be with her the whole time. I promise. Our doctors will do the best they can to make sure she's comfortable and safe.”

Safe. What a stupid word to use. She wasn't safe when he came back. She was dead.

She'd had another seizure minutes after he left. The entire medical team tried their best, you know that. You were there, holding her hand through it all. Begging her to stay strong for her dad.

When he came back, he was held back by security as he shouted all kinds of evil truths at you.

“You bitch.”

“You all killed her.”

“I could've been here if it wasn't for you!”

It was all true.

His words have replayed in your mind ever since. So, no, you aren't good. But there's nothing a charge nurse you're sure has been through worse can do about it, so you won't tell her.

“Mhm, I'm fine. Don't worry about me,” you lie, straight to her face.

You have a feeling she doesn't believe you, but she's also smart enough to recognize when someone doesn't want to talk about something. So, she drops it.

“Alright. Be kind to yourself, okay? Take some time off if you need it,” she advises, and you trust her judgement. It isn't like you'll listen to her, though.

“Okay. I'll try.”

Dana walks out of the break room, but not before giving you a long hug. On a good day, you'd be soaring with happiness. Today, it makes you feel just slightly better.

You're mid-sip when your favorite attending walks in. Jack looks shocked to see you. He'd given you the exact same advice Dana just did. You'd obviously not taken it.

He walks towards the counter you're leaning against. You feel like he's about to tell you off. He just stands there for a long moment. Then, he's searching your face for something. A sign of distress, maybe?

He doesn't find whatever it is he's looking for. You smile at how ridiculous this staring habit of his is.

“Are you good?” he parrots Dana.

Your brows crease, “Have you and Nurse Evans been talking about me?”

Jack looks confused.

“I'm fine. I'm great, even. Okay?” you demand.

He nods, but it's very hesitant.

“I have a shrink. I'm seeing her after work. You don't have to worry about me,” you reiterate.

Everything he could say was said yesterday. He reassured you for thirty minutes after, brought you water and food in between patients. There's nothing more he can say right now.

He just grabs one of the coffees you brought, “Thank you.”

His tone's a little too sincere for what this is. You'll take it.

You both exit the break room and part ways to get on with your shifts. His eyes are front and center in your mind the entire time, especially when you need some comfort.

You've been on edge lately. You're flinching at things you aren't supposed to. You close your curtains whenever you're home alone. You just can't shake this feeling that you're being watched.

The 90$-an-hour therapist you visit once a month says it's a symptom of your PTSD. That's of no consequence, because the anxiety feels as real as can be. Your nerves are fried all the time.

You need a break. There's one person in particular you want to spend your time off with. He's been invited to your apartment for dinner tonight. Thankfully, Jack hasn’t embarrassed you by rejecting your invitation.

He's just texted you that he's on his way now. You're in the kitchen with your cooking playlist playing in the background. It's the kind of mellow moment you haven't experienced in weeks. You're bringing the wooden mixing spoon up to your mouth to get a taste, when the moment's rudely interrupted.

Someone's pulling you back, with their arm tightly wrapped around your throat. This isn't psychosis, paranoia, or PTSD. This is real.

You try to hit back with the spoon in your hand, but it quickly clatters to the floor, splattering soup everywhere.

Your next line of defense is clawing your way out. Literally. You scratch and pull away at the stranger's arm. It's minimally effective. You're trying to scream out for help, too. It barely comes out as a squeak.

Your vision's getting blurry, when you feel someone tackle the intruder, bringing them to the floor. You can hear an altercation happening on your floor, right next to where you're coughing up a storm, just trying to catch your breath again.

Someone's landing more than a few punches, in the distance. The sound becomes much less distressing when you realize it's Jack who has the upper hand in this fight. His eyes lack the tenderness they usually have when you’re staring back at them.

“Jack...” you croak out, trying to pull him out of it.

He stops, pulling the guy under him up by the collar. That's when you realize it's the same grieving man who was shouting at you in the middle of the PTMC’s emergency room, less than a week ago.

Jack slams him against your kitchen wall, his arm pinning the man in place by the throat. On the floor, beside you, is a set of pictures. They must've fallen from the man’s pocket mid-brawl. They're all of you. At your therapist's office. At home. At work.

He's been watching you, following you. The realization fills you with dread.

You pull your phone out and dial 911 immediately.

“Are you okay?” Jack asks, his eyes still set on the man in front of him.

“Yes, I'm fine. Be gentle,” you tell him.

He shakes his head subtly. He'd be smiling a little too, if he wasn't so angry at the man in front of him. Of course, you'd want him to be gentle with the man who was about to kill you. You've always seen the best in everyone.

He can’t ever deny you a thing, so he's as gentle as he can be, with how furious he is right now.

“911, what's your emergency?” you hear on the other end.

Jack takes care of it all. Tells the officers what happened, shows them the pictures, escorts them out. All you could manage for now was a few hums in agreement to the questions the officers asked you.

Once they left, Jack came to sit beside you on the couch. Now, he’s been staring at your neck intensely. You can tell he wants to take a look.

“Do you mind?”

“Nope,” you answer, pulling your hair to the side.

His fingers are gentle on your neck, as they graze the bruise forming there.

His voice is tight, like he's still barely containing his anger, “It looks alright. It'll just be slightly bruised.”

You nod, “Thank you. For everything.”

Your hand finds his, interlocking your fingers. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, to place a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand. You grin, and finally look up from the spot on your carpet you’d been staring at.

There's a cut on his cheek, still bleeding. You bring your other hand to rest on his cheek, pressing your mouth to the skin beside the cut.

“Let me take care of that for you,” you offer.

It's almost like he didn't even hear you, though. “You probably shouldn't go to work tomorrow.”

You nod in agreement, “Yeah, probably.

“Can you stay?” you propose, barely louder than a whisper.

You're asking because it'd make you feel safer. He can tell. He agrees, immediately.

You pull your hand away to go grab the first aid kit in your bathroom cabinet. You're also rehearsing how you're going to convince him to sleep in your bed with you, instead of the couch. He ends up being very easy to convince.

#jack abbot #jack abbott #dr jack abbot #dr jack abbott #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #jack abbott fanfic #dr jack abbott x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot drabble #jack abbot fluff #jack abbot imagine #the pitt #the pitt max #the pitt hbo #the pitt 2025 #the pitt show #the pitt x reader

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sakuraszn · 4 months ago

Text

ft. choso kamo

summary: how choso is as your boyfriend.

choso kamo who is possessive but quitely so, he doesn’t need to raise his voice or make a scene to remind you who you belong to. A simple glance, the way his fingers tighten around your body, or the way his lips ghost against your ear when he speaks is enough.

choso kamo puts you in your place gently but firmly, he’s not the type to argue. If you act out, he’ll simply back you into a wall, tilt your chin up, and whisper, “Try that again.” His tone is soft, but the weight of his authority is undeniable.

choso kamo who worships you like a princes, he loves caring for you, whether it’s running his fingers through your hair until you fall asleep or making sure you eat properly. But that doesn’t mean he lets you get away with everything. If you pout too much, he’ll chuckle before dragging you onto his lap, murmuring, “Don’t act spoiled unless you’re ready to deal with the consequences.”

choso kamo who has subtle but intense touches, he’s always touching you—brushing his knuckles down your arm, pressing his palm to the small of your back, tracing circles on your thigh under the table. It’s never overt, but it always lingers just long enough to make your heart race.

choso kamo who has a low, raspy voice that makes you weak, his voice is soft and deep, and when he murmurs, “Look at me when I’m talking to you, princess,” in that lazy, commanding tone, you have no choice but to obey.

choso kamo who is always in control even when he’s gentle, choso doesn’t need to raise his voice or act rough to assert dominance. It’s in the way he holds your chin, the way he whispers, “Be good for me,” with quiet authority. Even his softest touches feel like commands.

choso kamo loves taking care of you, but on his terms, he’ll brush your hair out of your face, fix your clothes, and feed you if he thinks you aren’t eating enough. But if you get a little too bratty? He’ll tilt his head and say, “You’re being difficult today. Do you want attention that badly?”

choso kamo where jealousy is subtle but dangerous, he doesn’t get angry, doesn’t make a scene. But if someone flirts with you, his arm will slide around your waist, his grip firm. He’ll lean in close and whisper, “You like testing me, don’t you?” before pulling you into his lap without another word.

choso kamo punishes with deprivations, If you push him too far, he doesn’t scold or yell—he just withholds what you want most. No kisses, no touches, just a knowing smirk as he watches you squirm. “You’ll learn patience,” he murmurs, eyes dark with amusement.

choso kamo who has casual dominance in public, a hand on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing slow circles. Holding your wrist when he senses you getting restless. Fixing your necklace, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear—his touches always feel like a reminder that you belong to him.

choso kamo who pulls you into his lap without a word, whether you’re pouting or just being stubborn, he’ll solve the problem easily—by dragging you onto his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist, and keeping you there until you’re calm. “That’s better,” he hums, his voice deep and satisfied.

choso kamo who sleeps with a hand on you, whether it’s an arm wrapped around your waist or fingers loosely curled around your wrist, he always has to be touching you while you sleep. If you try to move, his grip tightens just slightly, pulling you back into him.

choso kamo who loves when you get flustered, he enjoys watching you stammer or fidget when he gets too close. He’ll lean in, lips barely brushing your ear, and ask, “Why are you blushing? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

choso kamo is an intensely loyal and devoted partner, someone who would go to any lengths to protect the one he loves. He’s quiet, observant, and sometimes awkward with emotions, but his love is unwavering and deeply felt.

#✎ᝰ — sakuraszn !#choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk choso #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x black reader #choso x reader #choso x black reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso

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a-b-riddle · 1 year ago

Text

Part 2

Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.

For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.

Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.

Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.

For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.

But it wasn't.

And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.

Did they still want this?

The answer was clear.

You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.

Jesus.

A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.

You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.

You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.

Kyle.

Fuck.

Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.

Maybe that was just as bad.

What are you up to today?

That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.

You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.

E-mail the publisher back.

Change the locks.

You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.

No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.

So you didn't respond.

You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.

You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.

You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'

It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.

Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.

But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.

You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.

You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.

Fuck.

That almost got you.

You almost answered it.

Almost.

You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.

And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.

Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.

Not that you would really hear it again...

Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.

On my way. We need to talk.

It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.

The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.

Not my taste, Dove.

Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.

I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.

Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.

The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.

Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.

Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.

You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.

You just hoped you didn’t regret it.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #poly141 #angst #grovel #groveling

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layaispunk · 21 days ago

Note

i don’t know if you can write something without smut but i want reader’s parents(or dad idc) organizing this barbecue party in their house and joel trying to hard to play it cool and to stay away from reader who wears skimpy jean shorts and top only to tease him, and they end up sneaking in the kitchen to make out and almost get caught by reader’s dad or smth, you can change it however you see right, i just want to feel a lot tension and risk, thnks<33

you better behave, darling

part two here

pairing: joel miller x female!reader

warnings: sexual tension, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, age gap unspecified, dilf!joel

masterlist

you didn’t know exactly when your crush on joel miller had gone from “dad’s hot friend” to “i think about you when i’m bored, lonely, or drunk”

maybe it was last winter, when he came over to help your dad fix the leaking pipes and left the garage smelling like his cologne. or maybe it was that time he picked you up from a party because your parents were out of town.

it didn’t matter anymore.

because now it was summer, you just graduated, joel was very much still single, and the tension in your chest every time he was near had officially passed the point of manageable.

it didn’t help that he was practically family. joel had been friends with your parents for over a decade. came to holidays, fixed things when they broke, gave your dad advice about tires and taxes, even helped put up the christmas lights last year. he was dependable, and masculine, and protective, and you …. you had a massive crush on him. and he’d never looked at you like that. which was…. fine. safe. understandable. and completely infuriating.

you were stirring a spoon around in your coffee, half-listening to your parents chat at the table behind you.

“the weather’s holding up,” your dad said between bites of toast. “could be a good weekend for that barbecue.”

your mom nodded. “we haven’t done one in a while. invite the usual crew? tommy, joel…”

at that, your stomach flipped. you didn’t flinch, or turn around, you just kept stirring your coffee a little longer than necessary, like the silence might cool it down faster.

joel.

you hadn’t seen him in a couple weeks — not since he stopped by to drop off a toolbox your dad had left in his truck. he stayed for a beer, made polite conversation, asked how you’d been. you said fine. normal.

you tried not to think about him too much. emphasis on tried.

“i’ll call joel later, tell him to bring that smoked sausage he always does,” your dad said. “man knows his way around a grill.”

you turned your back so they couldn’t see the smile on your face.

ten minutes later, you were upstairs in your room. you shut the bedroom door with your hip and let out a slow breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

you opened your closet and started throwing every single summer dress you owned onto your bed.

you stared at a faded red sundress with thin straps and a hem that rested above your thighs.

maybe you were overthinking it. maybe it was all in your head. joel probably still saw you as just a family friend, someone he watched grow up. there were a thousand reasons not to try anything . the age gap, the connection to your parents, the risk of looking foolish.

but even with all of that, you couldn’t shake the feeling.

it was stupid. delusional, even. but there was something about this summer. post-grad, the loneliness, the ache to feel something different … that made you want to stop tiptoeing around what you wanted.

what was the worst that could happen?

he says no? he laughs it off? you survive. you move on. life keeps going.

but what if he didn’t?

you flopped back on the bed dramatically, letting the red dress fan out beside you. your heart fluttering. you were tired of wondering. of watching him from across the street like he was just some living daydream. you were going to do something about it.

that night, you couldn’t sleep.

you tried, tossing your arm over your eyes, shifting under the thin sheet, but your body was still humming with something you couldn’t quiet understand.

maybe you could watch a rom-com, fall asleep to it. you got out of bed and padded downstairs barefoot, planning to dig through the kitchen for a snack while watching the movie.

halfway down the stairs, you heard it. his voice.

oh god.

you froze on the last step, blinking like you’d imagined it.

“-nah, she’s got good taste, i’ll give her that,” joel was saying, voice smooth and warm from laughter.

you stepped into the living room, eyes flicking toward the kitchen where he stood with your dad, each with a bottle of beer in hand. joel turned when he saw you, his smile lazy, casual.

“evenin’,” he said.

“hey,” you replied, swallowing the sudden flutter in your throat.

“joel brought over that old drill i needed,” your dad said, wiping his hands on a rag. “we got to talkin’, hope we didn’t wake you.”

“no, i was just… getting a snack,” you said, causally.

your dad looked at his watch and sighed. “gotta take a shower before bed. long day tomorrow. mind lettin’ him out when you’re done? make sure the old man makes it to his porch without fallin’ on his ass.”

you snorted. “sure.”

your dad clapped joel on the shoulder and disappeared upstairs.

and just like that, it was just you and joel.

the kitchen felt smaller. he leaned against the counter, nursing the rest of his beer, his eyes meeting yours with a little lift of his chin.

“remind me, when’s your graduation ceremony?” he asked after a beat.

you opened the fridge and pretended to look for something, keeping your voice even. “10th october. why?”

he took another sip before answering. “so i can get sarah to book a flight. she’s been wantin’ an excuse to come home for a bit.”

your head turned slightly, surprise flashing across your face. “that’s sweet.”

he shrugged, eyes warm. “plus i need time to rent a real nice suit. y’know, show up proper. make you proud.”

you turned your head to look at him fully now, your hand still on the fridge door.

“seriously?” you laughed.

he nodded, “wouldn’t miss it.”

your lips twitched into a soft smile. you were really looking at him now, the way the light hit the grays in his hair. at the soft creases around his mouth. at the strong, careful way he watched you.

joel tilted his head, voice quiet. “why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

you shrugged, mouth twitching. “no reason.” a pause. then, just barely above a whisper: “you smell good.”

something shifted in his face. his fingers tensed slightly around the neck of the bottle.

a beat passed. then he spoke again, casual but with something simmering underneath.

“you still seein’ that brandon boy?”

you blinked. “brandon?” you laughed softly. “god, no. he was… stupid. and immature.”

joel made a small noise of approval, almost a chuckle.

“i prefer older guys anyway,” you added, letting the words linger in the air.

his eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t say anything right away. just met your eyes with something unreadable and intense.

you cleared your throat, breaking the silence before it could swallow you whole. “you coming to the barbecue tomorrow night?”

“yeah, course,” he said slowly, like he’d just pieced something together. “you?”

“mhm.” you nodded. “i’ll just have to look extra pretty, for you, then.”

joel’s brow twitched, and you swore you saw the corner of his mouth lift. “that right?”

you shrugged, playing it cool. “well, if you’re gonna go through all the trouble of renting a suit, i figure i should match the effort.”

“that dress you wore to mrs. adler’s party would probably do it,” he said, voice quiet.

you blinked. “you remember what i wore?”

a blush crept up on his neck. “i mean … i dont know. i guess.”

you smiled, “hm.”

he ran a hand over the back of his neck, “kinda hard to forget. you looked real pretty.”

you grabbed some snacks from the cabinet, trying to fight your grin. “you think you can keep your cool tomorrow?”

joel exhaled through his nose, “you really tryin’ to start somethin’ right now?”

“maybe” you just tilted your head, all innoncent.

joel leaned just a little closer, voice low and thick. “you better behave tomorrow, darlin’.”

the evening heat was relentless, sun hanging low over the backyard, making the sky look pink and orange, shimmering with heat. you could feel it sticking to your skin beneath the thin fabric of your dress. restless, you kept stealing glances toward joel. he was the center of attention as usual, leaning against the grill, a beer in one hand, chatting with his blonde neighbors who definitely knew how to flirt. it was clear why: joel was the hottest guy in austin. no competition.

you twisted the hem of your dress nervously and slipped inside the kitchen, your steps light on the floor. your eyes landed on the bottle of tequila you’d been using to mix drinks for the guests. without thinking, you grabbed it and took a quick, rebellious gulp.

“hey, what the hell are you doing, kiddo?” your dad’s voice cut through the quiet.

caught off guard, you froze, then blurted out, “it’s summer, dad. leave me alone.”

he just shook his head with a smirk, joking about losing a brain cell, and walked away, leaving you to slip back out into the backyard.

as you rounded the corner, you bumped into joel. his beer nearly slipped from his hand, but he caught it without missing a beat.

“hey,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked you up and down.

you looked around, making sure nobody could hear you, “you didn’t say a word about the dress, joel. i thought it was for you.”

he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “you’re bein’ stupid. you know your old man would kill me. chop my head off and put it on a plate, probably.”

joel’s eyes softened, and his voice lowered just for you. “you’re real pretty tonight, darlin’, but we can’t.”

you bit your lip, stepping a little closer. “so what if we can’t? makes it more fun.”

he gave you a half-smile, and headed toward the fence, pulling out a cigarette. lighting it, he took a slow drag and exhaled the smoke into the summer air.

you followed him, leaning against the fence beside him. “mind if i have a puff?” you asked casually.

joel didn’t even hesitate, handing you the cigarette with a small grin. after you took a slow drag, you looked down at your dress and then back at him. “hey, can you help me with this?” you said, pointing to the strap sliding off your shoulder.

he glanced at you, smirking. “i know what you’re doing, dirty girl.”

you looked up at him, innocently. “just want you to help me with my dress, joel.” you stepped closer, right in front of him, your breath catching when his hands reached for the straps of your dress. his fingers brushed your shoulders, sending a jolt straight through you.

for a moment, the world shrank down to the two of you. the distant laughter, the grill, the heat of the summer evening, all fading into nothing. you could feel the heat pooling low, your panties already soaked from the tequila and nerves, and the touch of joel’s hands.

he tightened the strap with slow care, his fingers lingering just a second too long. you swallowed hard, the backyard spinning just a little.

then, you did something stupid. you glanced over your shoulder, making sure no one was close enough to see what you were about to do. with a quick, reckless motion, you slid your light pink thongs down your thighs and, without a word, handed them to joel.

his eyes widened just the slightest when he caught the delicate fabric.

you turned on your heel and walked away, heart hammering, cheeks burning.

you didn’t see him again for about an hour. he was avoiding you.

the backyard was buzzing with bodies, laughter, and music. you found yourself stuck in the kitchen, nodding politely while your mom’s friend kelly launched into a drawn-out conversation about your post-grad plans. you tried to focus, offering half-hearted mhms and smiles, but your brain was still caught on what you’d done. the tequila was wearing off just enough for embarrassment to creep in.

god. you’d really handed joel miller your panties like it was nothing. you shifted your weight, pretending to sip your beer, trying to inch toward the doorway when you caught something out of the corner of your eye.

joel. standing by the hallway.

he wasn’t looking at you directly, but his body was turned just enough that you knew he was waiting. his eyes flicked to the bathroom door beside him, then back to you. a silent message.

you didn’t hesitate.

“sorry-beer’s hitting me,” you said quickly to kelly, leaving the beer on the counter and flashing a small apologetic smile as you backed away. “need to pee before i explode.”

she laughed and waved you off.

you slipped down the hall, heart pounding so loud it felt like your whole body moved with each beat. joel stood there, still as anything, but the look in his eyes was different now.

when you reached the door, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you inside the bathroom, and shut the door behind you with a click, and locked it.

you were pressed against the door, chests touching, the very little space between you hot and electric. neither of you moved for a second. just breathing. you could hear the party still humming faintly outside the door, but it felt miles away.

joel leaned in, his mouth close to your ear, voice low and ragged. “you’re outta your goddamn mind.”

you shivered.

“the hell has gotten into you tonight, huh?”

your courage from earlier fizzled out, the reality of it all creeping in now that he was here, so close, and looking at you like that.

“i’m sorry,” you said, breath hitching. “i didn’t mean to pressure you. i just…”

his mouth was on yours before you could finish.

it was rough and desperate, his hand cradling the back of your head as his lips crushed into yours. you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongues sliding, hands wandering. you felt him everywhere. his body, solid and warm, pressing you harder against the door. his grip firm and grounding.

you whimpered against his mouth, fingers tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer like you couldn’t get enough. he tasted like beer and smoke, and it made your knees weak.

joel finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours. “jesus,” he muttered. “you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me.” his lips found yours again, hungry and desperate. he kissed you like he needed to memorize the way you tasted.

you moaned into his mouth, your body practically vibrating with need. his hands moved slowly, trailing down your sides, fingers grazing your hips. you could feel the hesitation there, the weight of everything unsaid between you, but it didn’t stop him.

his touch slipped beneath the hem of your dress, calloused palms dragging up the bare skin of your thighs. your breath hitched, and you couldn’t help it, you let out a soft moan.

“joel …”

he groaned low in his throat. “fuck.”

then.. two knocks.

you both froze.

your heart jumped into your throat. joel’s hand clapped gently but firmly over your mouth before you could react. his palm covered half your face—god, his hands were huge.

yep. dad was right. you officially lost a brain cell.

“hey, someone in there?” your dad’s voice rang out from behind the door.

joel’s eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. he took a deep breath and answered with forced nonchalance.

“yeah, buddy. gimme a second. beer’s hittin’ me hard. think i just lost my goddamn bowels.”

PART 2 !

thankyou for reading ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

p.s the whole underwear situation was inspired by the fic we all read and love, fourth of july by jrrmint

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #dbf!joel #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller fluff #joel fic #joel fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x female reader #dads best friend #layaasks

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letsbangts · 6 months ago

Text

answer your phone || jjk

⤷ summary: when the consequences of his actions come calling

⟡ sequel to mutt ⟡

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ word count: 12.8k+ (I couldn’t stop 😳)

18+ // mdni

⟶ genre: angst, smut, fluff, friends with benefits au

⟶ content: fuckboy!jk, tattooartist!jk, jk is on a downward spiral (it's what he deserves), oc is struggling as well, taehyung is the shoulder to lean on everyone deserves

⟶ warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, groping, protected sex, nipple play, oral (m. & f. receiving), markings (hickeys & other bruising), a bit of dirty talk & praising, fingering, teasing, multiple orgasms…I think that’s it?

⟶ part: 2/3

↬ a/n: HERE IT IS MUTT PT 2! firstly I want to say thank you for all the love & support i received on pt 1 it truly meant so much to me ♡ OKAY so you all wanted #justiceforoc and to see jk grovel so the tables have definitely turned on him ;). angel xoxo

↬ a/n2: p.s the flashbacks are indicated by the arrows (《,》)

˖⁺. ༶ NOW PLAYING ༶ .⁺˖ answer your phone leon thomas 01:43 ─✮───── 03:07 ⇆ ⊲ II ⊳ ↺ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

previous part ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ series masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ masterlist ˚.⋆˚.⋆˚.⋆ join my taglist

Answer your phone I’ve got to talk to you

Jungkook is sitting on his couch with a girl’s lips all over his neck and her hands all over his body, but his eyes are fixed on his cell phone lying on the coffee table. Instead of focusing on how her tongue is licking at his throat or how her hands grope him through his pants, he can only focus on you.

He stares at the phone that won’t ring, at least not with you on the other end. It has been over a month since you stormed out of his place. At first, he left you alone and didn’t try to reach out because he thought you needed to cool off. Jungkook has dealt with this hot and cold shit with others before; he knows they’ll be back eventually, whether he makes any effort or not. And it’s so much easier not to. But he has been calling you for weeks now with no success.

This past month, Jungkook has been with a handful of women, hoping to feel something, but he hasn’t. Not even with the aid of an empty bottle or a joint— and he’s certainly had plenty of both— nothing makes him feel as good as you do. Whether it’s getting his dick sucked by any of the random women he’s taken into the bathroom of a club or bending one over in the backseat of his car in the parking lot of the tattoo studio, getting on top of someone else to distract him from you hasn’t helped as he thought it would.

He is still trapped in his thoughts, even though the girl with him right now is attractive, with a nice body and a skillful pair of hands. He’s annoyed that her lips don’t send tingles down his body like yours do, that her hands aren’t as soft as yours and that she doesn’t have her fingers running through his hair the way you do.

He misses you.

He pries the girl’s hands off him and pushes her back as he lets out a deep sigh. She looks at him with a confused expression.

Jungkook licks his lips and, without looking at her, says, “I think we’d better stop; you should go.”

The girl attempts a seductive smile as she moves to unbuckle his belt.

“Stop? We haven’t even started anything. Come on, I’ll make you feel good, big boy.”

Jungkook rips her hands off his belt and rubs his hands over his face in frustration.

“Look, I’m just not feeling this, okay?” he says exasperated.

The girl’s face drops, and her whole demeanour changes.

“Are you fucking serious, Jungkook? Not feeling this? Can you not get it up or something? Is your dick really that pathetic?” she snarks, her eyes scanning him up and down.

He gives her a pointed look with his pierced eyebrow raised as he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek and chuckles bitterly. He shakes his head, sniffs, and sits up straighter.

“Okay, listen here, Emilia—”

“It’s Emily!”

“Whatever the fuck your name is, I don’t care. I tried to be nice about this, but if you want to provoke me, that’s fine. You’re right; I can’t get it up because I can’t even pretend for a goddamn moment that you turn me on, not even in the slightest, so get your ass out of my fucking house,” he sneers through clenched teeth.

Right after Jungkook finished speaking, he felt a sting on his cheek. The response to his words was a sharp slap to his face and, once again, another upset girl storming out of his place, slamming the door behind her.

Jungkook shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. A metallic taste begins to form in his mouth; he must have bitten the inside of his cheek on impact. He rises to his feet and walks to the bathroom. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edge as he spits out blood. Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror and runs a hand over his reddened cheek, marked with a fresh cut from the girl’s ring-clad hand.

He isn’t bothered that the girl is upset because he doesn’t care about her. Jungkook couldn’t care less about whether he was an asshole to Emma; all he cares about is you and how he needs to talk to you.

Answer your phone Give me a minute, please Has your heart turned to stone? Have you no sympathy?

He has texted and called you an embarrassing number of times, waiting with every ring to see if you’d pick up so that he could hear your sweet voice. And he does, but only when he’s met with your voicemail — “Hey, this is Y/N. Sorry, I missed your call. Please leave me a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!”— which is a lie because you never do. Still, he leaves voice messages, hoping you will listen to them and call him back. He hopes that with every call, his persistence will make you curious enough to answer and talk to him, even if only for a minute.

Jungkook turns on the tap and washes his face; the cool water momentarily clears his head. However, once he raises his head and looks at his reflection again, his fringe drips with water, droplets falling onto his shirt. He is overwhelmed by the thought of you all over again.

He knows you can’t be too mad at him because you haven’t blocked him, not his number or on social media. It is how he knows you’re not that hung up on what happened since he sees you posting, whether casually going out for coffee or all dressed up to go party with your friends; regardless, in all of them, you look stunningly beautiful.

It makes him miss you even more and makes him unsure if blocking him might have been better, since Jungkook has seen some guys in your posts and noticed how they sometimes have an arm around you or how you lean in a little bit too close to them for his liking. He wonders if they are just friends; even if they are, he’s sure they want to be more. Have they tried anything with you? Are you dressing up like that for one of those guys? Are you trying to move on with one of them? Is that the reason you’re ignoring him?

The thought alone of you with someone else drives him crazy, but having to see you with some guy who probably doesn’t even know you that well makes him furious. Jungkook knows you better than anyone of those chumps could, yet they get to be around you while he is stuck looking at your angelic face beside some happy idiot through a screen like a loser.

Jungkook bets none of those guys know that you hum while getting ready, don’t know that when you’re in the car while it’s raining you turn off the radio to listen to it fall, don’t know that you can’t sleep wearing pants or socks, don’t know that you hate drinking room temperature water, don’t know that you do this adorable little happy dance when you really like the food you’re eating, and bets they don’t know that the guy who put that tattoo on your hip has fucked you every way under the sun.

Shit. He misses you.

Misses how you would thread your fingers through his hair, scratching softly at his scalp while he had his head in your lap as you both watched TV, misses how you would listen to him complain about a client while you fiddled with his earring but with such attentive eyes that showed you were paying attention, misses how you would scrunch your nose and blush when he made a flirty comment, misses how you would somehow take the pressure of the day off him simply by hugging him.

Why won’t you answer? Why won’t you give him a proper chance to explain himself and apologize? Did all your feelings for him vanish? Has your heart just turned to stone? Don’t you see how hard he’s trying? Don’t you have any sympathy for him?

Upon realizing that his teeth are grinding together and his fists are clenching so tightly that his knuckles have turned white, he pulls himself together, relaxing all his muscles, and heads back to the living room with determination.

Jungkook grabs his phone off the coffee table before sitting on his couch. With his elbows resting on his knees, he goes to his call log filled with your name and presses it, lifting the phone to his ear as he listens to the ringing for the umpteenth time.

I know I fucked this up I know I let you down But I’ve suffered long enough And you’re still not around

He bites his nails while tapping his foot anxiously; he concentrates on what seems like endless ringing. His eyes glance at the clock. You should be home from work by this time, he thinks. When your voice finally comes through—voicemail, of course. Jungkook didn’t honestly expect anything else.

He leans back, tips his head back against the backrest, and shuts his eyes for a second, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of his thoughts, and when he hears the beep of the answering machine, all those thoughts spill out of his mouth.

I know I don’t deserve it But please have some mercy ‘Cause I just might die if you don’t

Y/N POV

You hold your buzzing phone in your hand and watch as the screen dims once it’s finished, only to light up a few seconds later with a notification about a voicemail.

You hit the notification and bring your phone to your ear, you bite your lip when you hear the deep voice of the man you’ve been keeping at bay.

“Hey Y/N, I don’t know if you even listen to my messages anymore or if you ever did, but I’m not going to give up. I’m sorry, I know I fucked up and I know I let you down, but—fuck, Y/N, I miss you so goddamn much. It feels like I’ve been suffering for so long, like there is this knife that’s buried in my chest and keeps twisting the more time you’re not around. I know I don’t deserve it, but please have some mercy and answer me. Fucking shout at me and curse me out. Answer me and don’t say anything— stay silent if you want, but just answer me, please. I need to hear your voice, or see you, something—anything, because this is beginning to feel like a slow, painful death.”

You sigh as you lower the phone from your ear, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’ve never heard Jungkook’s voice so shaky; you’ve never experienced Jungkook being anything but confident.

Jungkook has been persistent in reaching out, and you have told yourself you must be just as persistent in your resolve not to answer. This past month has been devoid of any trace of him, but just because he hurt you doesn’t mean all your feelings for him have vanished. It’s been hard on you; so many times your thumb has hovered over the accept button when he called, but by the time you contemplate it, the call has already gone to voicemail.

Regarding that night, you have calmed down significantly since leaving his place feeling angry and upset. You have thought it over countless times, and although you still don’t condone what he did, you genuinely believe he didn’t act with ill intent. You just expected more from him; he always told you how it was different with you, that you meant more to him than anyone else. Only to then treat you like any other one of his insignificant flings. It made you question if you are so whipped for him that you failed to see he viewed you as a girl easy to fool. But you know Jungkook is more than just that one night; he may have disappointed you, but there have been many times he hasn’t.

You have ignored every attempt he made to communicate with you; yet, you haven’t blocked him on anything—it feels too final. Instead, you have been keeping yourself occupied. When you’re not working, you’ve been going out with friends, reminding yourself of who you were before Jungkook. Of course, you didn’t completely ignore your friends when he came into your life, but he did take up most of your free time.

They knew about him; while they may not have known all the dirty details of your relationship, they did know that you spent a lot of time with him and enjoyed doing so. And if you were happy, so were they. So when you replied in the group chat that you’d be joining them for a night out, they were shocked but didn’t ask any questions. They were excited to have the gang together and didn’t hesitate to ensure you had a good time.

Usually, you’d spend your weekends with Jungkook since you both were off then. You would be tangled in his sheets, a sweaty mess, put in various positions, inducing multiple orgasms. You had forgotten the thrill of being in the middle of a crowded dance floor, sweat rolling down your body from the heat of so many bodies so close together. Throwing back countless shots, you and your friends could barely dance in your heels and tight dresses without stumbling.

You’d also forgotten how much male attention you receive when going out and mingling with new people. Although there are still many creeps around—for whom you had to get your guy friends to come to your rescue—sometimes there would be someone who seemed harmless enough to flirt with, but then you would remember a certain doe-eyed, dimpled-smiled man and would turn them down.

One time, when you had used your friend Taehyung as an escape from an otherwise seemingly good guy, pulling him behind you and wrapping his arms around your dancing figure for protection, he asked you why you didn’t go for it. That was when you opened up and told him the full story about you and Jungkook. Taehyung has been a caring and understanding person for as long as you have known him, and he empathized with you when you explained your feelings and complicated situationship.

Since that night, he has been your confidant, your shoulder to lean on. He has witnessed firsthand how this month has not been easy for you, no matter how much you tried to forget about your fuck buddy/friend. After hearing about the detailed story of the last night you spent with Jungkook, he has been vocal about how you deserve someone who wants to be with only you and that you are more than enough. Yet, he never judges you and understands that you know a different side of Jungkook.

You know the Jungkook who moved all the mugs to the lowest shelf in his cupboard so that you could reach them, the Jungkook who sings loudly in the shower, the Jungkook who, when he first falls asleep, starts twitching with a cute, peaceful smile on his face.

You miss him.

You’ve passed the tattoo studio on your way home, stared at that flashing neon-red sign, and thought how all it would take to see him is for you to step through that door; if you just walked in and talked to him, maybe everything could turn around in your favour. You both could patch things up and be happy. You could be together.

You’ve looked through that window from afar, hoping to catch sight of the pierced, tattoo-covered man, reminiscing about when you were on the other side with him.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

The bell of his studio dings, signalling your entry. At the counter stands the pierced, tattoo-covered man you came for. He looks up from the book with his scheduled appointments, and when his eyes land on you, he flashes you that big, dimpled smile, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling in delight.

“Hey, baby. I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here so late?”

He drops his pen onto the book and rounds the counter, meeting you halfway. His lips press against yours in a quick kiss as his hands settle on your waist while yours find their way around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“I could ask you the same thing. When you texted that you were still here, I thought I would stop by to see you,” you shrug.

Jungkook sighs and gives you a tight-lipped smile, lifting a hand to brush through his hair.

“My last client of the day cancelled on me, so I decided to stay back and work on some designs. I sent the others home, and I guess the time got away from me,” he scratches the back of his neck.

“Mmm, handsome and hard-working, what a catch,” you smile and tiptoe to give his cheek a peck.

“I don’t want to disturb you, though. Should I go?” you continue, rubbing your hands up and down Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook shakes his head as he removes your hands from his chest.

“No, stay. I could use your presence; it has been a stressful day.”

He walks over to the studio’s entrance, flips the open sign, locks the door, and pulls down the blinds, now closing for the day. Lastly, he switches off the main lights, leaving only the multiple neon lights hanging on the walls in various designs and colours to keep you from the darkness.

He takes one of your hands into his, interlocking your fingers, and leads you through the dimly lit room to behind the counter, and to the desk you’ve seen him work at many times. He rolls out his chair, sits at his desk, looks up at you, and pats his thigh, and you comply with his silent request. You sit, his muscular thighs between your legs. He puts one arm around you, holding your waist to keep you steady, while his other arm rests on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Once in his lap, you look at the glance over the wooden surface covered with scattered papers, all filled with his artwork. Some designs are drawn with intricate detail, while others are simple sketches. But they are all equally impressive—sometimes you forget how talented Jungkook is.

“Oh my gosh, Kook! These are amazing!” you gasp, picking up one of the sheets and turning your head to look at him.

He takes the paper from your hands and places it back on the desk. You see the tips of his ears turning red.

“They’re alright,” he shrugs; you notice he seems sullen.

You turn in his hold, your body sideways on his lap, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“What has got you so stressed out?” you ask, pushing back his fringe before moving your hand to fiddle with his earring.

Jungkook closes his eyes at the feel of your touch, exhaling a breath in relief. He leans forward, rests his forehead on your shoulder and hugs you tight.

“I just—that client, that was the fifth cancellation this month. I don’t understand why; we had several consultations, and I listened to all his requests. I showed him so many different design options that I had sketched for him. I don’t know, maybe—maybe I lost my touch or something.”

“Hey, now that’s not true; this stuff is unbelievable, Kook,” you gesture at the multiple illustrations on his desk, “And you have been completely booked up with back-to-back appointments every day, I have never seen you so busy.”

You tug on his hair, and he whines, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and pulling you closer.

“Plus, do you think I would let a guy who’s lost his touch anywhere near my skin with even a drop of ink?” you tease, your lips brushing his ear.

“That was months ago,” he mumbles into your neck, and you feel the coolness of his lip rings against your skin.

“Yeah, and I would still let you be the one to do it.”

Jungkook looks up at you and argues, “Not like I’m going to let anyone touch you besides me.”

You boop his nose with your own, which makes him chuckle.

“I’m serious, Jungkook. You are passionate about your job, and it shows in your artwork. You are such a talented artist, people see your pieces online and come from all different places just to get inked by you. You. Because you are fucking Jeon Jungkook,” you poke at his chest.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles softly as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it gently, “How do you always know what to say to calm me down?”

Your eyes sparkle at his question, and you smile gently as you hold his cheek, your thumb caressing the soft skin while pressing your forehead to his, “I know you. Everything I said is simply the truth.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts slightly in surprise, but his gaze softens. His cheeks seemed to have flushed as well, but you weren’t sure due to the low lighting in the room.

“Thank you, baby,” he says almost shyly, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man who flirts with you so shamelessly at every chance he gets, nor the same man who has had you screaming in pleasure several times a night.

There are many sides to Jungkook, and you adored all of them.

You wrap your arms around his torso, embracing him tightly, burying your face in his neck, and he hugs your waist just as firmly, kissing your forehead.

You both sit like that for a while, and your breathing becomes in sync as if your bodies had become one.

“I-I’m…I’m glad you came here,” he clears his throat as his arms tighten around your waist, basking in your warmth and comfort.

Jungkook has vented to you about work before, but this time, it feels different. You’ve never seen him like this.

“I’m here anytime you need to talk, Kook,” you reassure.

“Well, that’s good to know…” he said with a nervous smile, “But I meant…I’m glad you came here that day to get your tattoo—that you came into my life.”

Your body freezes momentarily at his words, but soon a fire ignites in your heart and spreads throughout you. You are filled with pride and relief that he feels comfortable and trusts you enough to share his personal feelings so openly.

“I’m glad I did too,” you whisper, “I meant what I said, though, I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Okay,” he whispers, “Okay. But on one condition.”

“What?”

He tilts his head to look down at you, and you look at him through your lashes.

“You have to come and hold me like this when I do.”

“Deal,” you giggle.

“Seal it with a kiss,” he says, leaning down slightly.

You lift your head and meet his lips in an emotional kiss, which soon becomes more heated as your tongues mingle.

You move down his body, kneeling between his thighs. Your hands grip his belt, and Jungkook pants lightly, his anticipation and need high. You unbuckle it and unbutton his jeans effortlessly, then quickly pull them down far enough for his bulge to be exposed. As expected, he is already hard for you. The effect you have on him is always intense. You glance up at the heavy-breathing man above you, eyes hooded and bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You shift your focus from his bulge to his t-shirt, gripping it by the hem and pulling it up. When he realizes what you want, he assists you; he sits up a little, grabbing the back of the collar and pulling it over his head with one hand, fully exposing his toned core. Just like that, his shirt is off, and he tosses it to the floor to be found later.

Your hands create goosebumps across his exposed skin as they brush against his lower abdomen when you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. His erection springs up and rests against his abdomen, impatient for your touch.

At the sight of his big, veiny dick, you unconsciously drag your tongue along your upper lip. You quickly remove his jeans and boxers, along with your shirt, leaving you in your bra, panties, and skirt.

Your hand wraps around his shaft, and your thumb swipes across his head, smoothing the precum over his length to make it feel better. You stroke him gently a couple of times before leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the tip of his cock. Jungkook hisses at the sensation, and he throws his head back.

You slowly begin to move your hand up and down his cock; you enjoy building him up gradually and prolonging his release. A knowing look flashes across his eyes when he discovers what you are doing. He chuckles, and then you swirl your tongue around his head, causing the smile to fall from his face immediately as his hand grips the sides of the chair.

“D-Don’t tease,” he breathes heavily.

Your lips curve up into a barely noticeable smile at his reaction. You lick him from the base of his length to the top, swirling your tongue around his head once more before slowly pushing him between your lips and going down on him, your tongue pressing against his hardness as you take him in.

His abs clench at the contact, and a moan slips past his lips, “Fuck, yeah.”

You glimpse up at him; his eyes are closed tightly, and sweat is forming on his golden skin, the exact way you like seeing him when you suck him off. The fact that you could affect him like that without even doing very much boosts your confidence.

You start moving back up slowly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft and squeezing him gently, earning a whimper. You repeat your movements with eagerness.

You love giving him head, hearing his moans of pleasure, and having him fall apart at your touch.

After a few rougher squeezes from your hand, you suck harder and take as much of him as you can into your mouth, using your hand to pump the rest of him that you can’t fit.

“Feel good?” you ask the obvious question.

He whines and raises his hand to your hair, pushing his fingers through the locks and out of your face, “That feels so good,” he rasps.

You hum around his dick; you look up and find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark with lust—an image you will carry with you to your grave.

You flutter your eyelashes at him and take him even deeper, fully engulfing his dick, his tip hitting the back of your throat each time you bob your head.

Jungkook gulps, and his eyes roll back in his head. You feel his hands tangle in your hair, pulling slightly as his hips thrust up into your mouth on instinct.

You go back to slowly moving your hand up and down his length, and it lasts for a few seconds until his hands are over yours, stopping you. Before you can question him, he takes your head in a tight hold and forces you to move faster, his large hands enveloping your head. He gently pushes down against your head until his entire cock is in your mouth and holds you there, your nose touching his pelvis. Your eyes water, but you power through, breathing deeply through your nose.

The man appears to be in pure bliss. His thighs are shaking, and his eyes are blinking rapidly, trying hard to stay open. His mouth is agape as he releases breathy moans, his chest heaving up and down.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby, fuck,” he growls.

When he is satisfied, he pulls you up off of his cock and removes his hands. You pop back up and let go of his throbbing length, a string of saliva briefly connecting your mouth to his tip. You gasp for air with tears streaming down your face, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he says, lifting your chin and wiping your wet cheeks.

You nod with a sniff, your eyes still glassy.

Jungkook suddenly reaches forward to grab your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You quickly straddle him, your hands pressing against his chest as you grind softly against his dick. His lips crash into yours in a messy kiss; it lasts for a little while before he pulls away and looks straight at you, “You know I love having your mouth around me, baby, but I need to be inside you.”

Then he’s capturing your lips once more, his arms encircling your legs around his waist as he does so. His hands rest under your thighs, effortlessly supporting your weight. You’re so immersed in how seamlessly his lips meld with yours that you don’t notice you both have shifted from the chair until you feel him place you on the desk.

Jungkook glides his hands up your thighs, only to have them wind around your waist, pulling you against him with force. He stands between your legs, with your pussy pressed directly against his member.

You grind your soaked panties against him, causing his lips to detach from yours, letting a groan escape from his lips as he tilts his head back, exposing his neck in the process. You trail small, wet kisses from the side of his face, along his jawline, and down his neck, before stopping at the junction between his neck and collarbone. You suck harshly on his skin, earning yourself a few moans from Jungkook, and you feel his chest vibrate.

Jungkook takes hold of your neck, his hand on your throat and kisses you intensely, attempting to express the longing he has felt for you since the moment you walked into the studio. His tongue swipes against your lower lip, asking for entrance, and you don’t hesitate to let him in. As his tongue dances with yours, you feel his hands tug at your skirt before he pulls it down, pausing to allow you to lift off the desk enough for him to remove it along with your bra, tossing them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor.

The sight of your naked torso distracts him from doing anything else, and his gaze lingers on your breasts before it shifts to your hip, where your tattoo is. Jungkook’s hand instinctively glides over the skin adorned with black ink.

“It’s still my favourite piece I’ve ever done,” Jungkook mutters before he plants kisses along your sternum and then finally on your breasts. Before his lips can explore further, you cup his face and bring it back to yours, and you both smile into the kiss. He gathers you in his arms and moves toward the tattoo chair behind him.

Jungkook carefully lowers you onto the reclined chair, and you watch as he stands at the edge, removing the black jeans already halfway down his legs. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind that you’re watching every movement of his; you bite your lip and smirk, and it seems to turn him on even further, which urges him to discard his pants and join you quickly.

He crawls over you, supporting his weight with the arms on either side of your head. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before he begins his exploration of your body, using his lips. Open-mouthed kisses are placed along your neck, across the curve of your breasts, and back up to your neck, where he decides to leave his mark by sucking on the skin at the base of your neck. The noises that escape your lips only motivate him to suck even more aggressively, creating even more red marks as he moves down your body.

“Kook, do something,” and as if he had been waiting for those words, Jungkook starts to move lower on your body until he’s hovering over your clothed pussy. You watch as his nose skims over the wet patch on your underwear. His hands smooth over your legs before they settle onto your hips, which he doesn’t leave unmarked as he sucks on the skin above your tattoo. Your hips rise, yet his stronghold stops you from squirming, “Kook, I need you.”

Upon hearing your desperate begging, Jungkook presses a finger to your covered heat, skillfully finding the bundle of nerves that have you writhing beneath his touch. He begins to rub between your legs, with the sole barrier to full contact being the delicate piece of cloth. He keeps teasing you through your panties, relishing the sounds you make as you squirm beneath him. Deciding that you’ve had enough of the torture, Jungkook hooks a finger under the waistband of your panties before pulling them down, revealing your glistening cunt. He locks eyes with you, and you observe from above as he slips a finger inside you, his stare unwavering. As he pumps his finger inside you, your head tilts back, and you let out a string of moans.

“You’re so tight, baby,” Jungkook comments before inserting another finger inside you, gentle kisses along the inside of your thighs as your hands weave into his hair. You’re surprised when you feel him sucking on your clit; the extra stimulation makes you tremble against his thrusting fingers.

“Mmm, and so wet. Your pussy tastes so good, so fucking sweet.”

“Oh my god, K-kook,” your back arches off the bed as he adds in a third finger while keeping his mouth on your sex. He smiles triumphantly upon hearing you repeat his name like a mantra, and sets out to ensure you’re moaning it even more loudly. You bite your bottom lip, trying to suppress your desperate moans, but it’s in vain when Jungkook curls his fingers within you, hitting a specific spot that causes you to clutch his hair tightly and cry out his name shamelessly.

Jungkook relentlessly drives into you, his fingers curled to target the spot that makes you moan his name, while his mouth remains attached to your clit, teeth lightly tugging and grazing the bud before his lips form a tight seal around it. You feel the pressure in your lower stomach intensify with every thrust of Jungkook’s fingers and every flick of his tongue, all leading up to your orgasm.

Jungkook watches as the wave of ecstasy flows through your body, and he swears you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the way your face contorts in ecstasy. His fingers are still thrusting inside, helping you ride out your high, but the oversensitivity soon becomes too much, and you have to push him away.

As you catch your breath, you take a moment to notice what a handsome man Jungkook truly is. Complementing his defined biceps and strong thighs were his abs, impeccably shaped, and you observe as the stunning man above you licks the remnants of you from his fingers. The sight has you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down so that his chest meets yours. Jungkook smirks at your action before he hungrily attacks your lips with his glistening ones, letting you taste yourself as you recover from your climax.

“Take this off,” you mumble against his lips, your foot at his lower back attempting to push his boxers down. He quickly complies with your request, shedding the dark grey boxers before leaning down to his jeans on the floor to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket and get a condom. He rips open the foil with his teeth, being careful not to tear the condom in the process, before rolling it down his length. He hovers over you again, keeping most of his weight off of you with the support of his arms.

Jungkook kisses your navel before trailing upward towards your breasts. His mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking on it, he takes his time sucking one breast while kneading the other one before he switches. Your hands hold onto his biceps, gliding over his skin as he prepares your body for another climax. When he’s satisfied with the marks he’s left on your two mounds, he places one more kiss against your lips before looking into your eyes.

“Are you ready, baby?”

“Mhm, Kook. Want you so bad.”

And so Jungkook takes his length and aligns himself at your entrance, the tip of his member almost pushing past your folds. He gives you one last peck on the corner of your mouth before his member sinks into your pussy, making you wince at the stretch of your walls. He pushes himself until he is buried deep within you, causing you to whimper when you feel his full length inside of you. Jungkook groans loudly as he feels himself get embraced by the warmth and tightness of your wet, velvety walls. He reaches for your hands, lifts them to rest on both sides of your head, and interlocks your fingers with his. His forehead meets yours, and both of you share a longing gaze while relishing the moment. Once you’ve adjusted to his size, you move beneath him, and Jungkook takes it as a signal to begin his ravaging.

He pulls back all the way, leaving only his tip inside of you, before pushing himself balls-deep within you once again. You urge him on with your voice, calling for him to go faster and harder, and he complies by thrusting into you at an astonishing speed. With each thrust of his, Jungkook’s name escapes your lips in moans that fill the studio, along with his panting and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You feel the warmth of his chest leave yours when he sits up, his hands gripping your waist, pressing his fingernails into your skin. The new position allows him to pull you to meet each of his thrusts, hitting at a new angle that makes you cry out his name. When he starts hitting that same spot that tipped you over the edge earlier, you grab his arms and pull him so that he’s on top of you again. His entire weight is on top of you, but you don’t care, not when his thrusts are paired with his lips on your neck.

You moan loudly, which is followed by your pussy convulsing around his cock, and Jungkook knows that you’re close. Your nails scratch against his broad back, leaving a stinging sensation that only adds to his pleasure. You’re sure he’ll have red marks all over his back as if he’s been attacked, but it’s a fair trade because he’s marked you plenty with his lips.

Jungkook feels you clenching around him even tighter than before, and he’s slamming his hips against yours, urging you to reach your climax. When Jungkook feels your nails dig deeper into his back, his hand reaches between your two sweaty bodies and draws circles on your clit, which sends you off into euphoria. Your second orgasm of the night hits you harder than the first, and your body would have trembled if it were not for Jungkook’s body in the way—the body that is still connected to yours and continues thrusting into you. Your swollen walls clench so tightly that Jungkook starts chasing his high. He groans loudly against your neck as he shallowly thrusts into you, helping both of you ride out your orgasms.

Jungkook sighs in relief, unaware how long he’s been holding his breath. Jungkook detaches himself from you, and you gasp lightly, feeling somewhat empty as the warmth leaves with him. He rolls off of you, and the two of you lie close together, side by side, attempting to regain your breath after the intense exchange. You sense his gaze from the corner of your eye, and when you turn to face him, your eyes meet his round, dark brown ones.

“Come here.”

Unsatisfied with just your shoulders touching, Jungkook turns onto his side, and you do the same before shifting closer to each other. His hands rest naturally on your hips as if returning to their rightful place. No words are exchanged between you, but there is no need to because you find yourself lost in the softness of his brown eyes, and he can’t help but mirror the wide grin plastered on your face. His hand moves to your tattoo, and you observe his expression as his fingers hover over the indelible design on your skin. His eyes hold a sparkle that evokes a certain emotion to wash over you.

“So, do you feel better?” you ask, breaking the silence of the afterglow, but he looks confused at your words, and you find the sight adorable. “You were stressed out…”

“Me? Stressed out? Huh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You are the one who’s confused this time, but not for long, because the realization hits you when you see his mischievous smirk. You punch his arm playfully, and he grins almost too widely, his eyes forming crescents. His hands, which were placing feathery touches on your tattoo, are now tickling your sides, and he’s elated at the sound of your joyful laughter before pulling you against his chest.

Jungkook looks around the studio, the neon lights casting shadows on his face, “I feel good; how could I not? This is a first for me though— fucking at work.”

You look up at him with raised brows in surprise, and Jungkook smiles down at you and continues.

“You know, I didn’t think the next time I had you back in my chair would be like this.”

“Oh my gosh,” you blush and hide your face in his chest, a little embarrassed but mostly shy at his remark. He laughs, and you feel it rumble through his chest; his hand lifts to pet down the back of your head.

“You can’t be shy with me after all that. Every time I’m working on a client now, all I will be thinking about is you beneath me in this chair.”

“I can’t imagine what the crew would think if they found out what we did,” you mumble into his chest with a little laugh.

“They would think I’m a sterilizing expert because there will be no evidence of what happened here,” he sits up and gently strokes your ass, and then gives it a pinch, eliciting a gasp from you, “You’re in charge of the desk, you little minx; I’ll do the chair,” he winks at you.

You’re left to blush again, swooning as you both get up to remove any trace of the two of you in the studio.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your thumb hovers over Jungkook’s name, you’re considering calling him back, just as you hear a knock at your door.

Answer your phone I’ve got so much to say I’m at my all-time low And it’s just too much to take

Jungkook can raise his hands and admit he didn’t handle that night as well as he could have, but he is truly sorry. He realizes that even if his intention wasn’t to hurt or offend you, what he did wasn’t his best moment. As much as he tells you that you are special to him and that what you two have is different, which is true—his actions didn’t match his words, and you deserve better than that. Jungkook may not be the perfect gentleman, far from it, but he is better than that, especially when it concerns you.

As the hands of the clock tick away and more time passes, he gets up and begins pacing.

If you listened to his message, you would have called by now, right?

Jungkook isn’t used to this—needing someone. Sure, he has desired certain women, and he always got them, but once the lust faded, he never wanted them to stay; he never needed them to stay.

He hasn’t always been like this, and he knows where it all began: the fear of giving his all to someone and then losing them, of handing over his heart to another and having them desecrate it.

Jungkook refused to be like his father; he watched him give his mother everything and love her immensely, only for her to run off without regard for him or Jungkook.

He fears emotionally connecting with someone else will end as he has always seen: being left alone and heartbroken.

Because inevitably, love is never simple, nor is it equal in the sacrifice of pouring oneself into another.

He can’t imagine what could be worse than letting someone in and loving so wholly, only to be left empty because you offered yourself up to someone undeserving.

Jungkook knows how good a man his father is, and if he could get burned and scarred by love, Jungkook knows he doesn’t stand a chance.

And who would willingly walk into a fire?

When people asked him why he didn’t get into a serious relationship, he would say, “I like change. Life is too long to commit to one person and too short not to explore your options.”

But that was before he discovered you. Once you fit into his life so perfectly, he knew he wouldn’t be able to live without you. He knew he had found that one constant in his life.

The constant being: Y/L/N Y/N.

What he shared with you has always been simple, and the effort you both put in has always been equal.

Jungkook never believed he would find that kind of connection, one that flows easily. Now that he has found it, he desires to keep you in his life and wants you to remain a part of him.

He will walk through the flames if you’re on the other side.

Jungkook has never been fond of lingering and preferred moving from one thing to the next, one woman to the next. He didn’t enjoy being too close; he always kept people at a distance, maybe not physically but emotionally. Tattooing has been the only steady thing in his life; he was committed to his craft.

But you broke down his walls, shattered the pattern—you got close. He found the courage to let his guard down. He knows there is nothing to be wary of, no looming feeling that he will be met with disappointment. Everything is easy with you.

His cowardice led him to rule out a love that hadn’t happened yet. Maybe he is a fool, but he can’t live with regret. He’s ready to dive off the deep end. It’s draining to always be on the defence, ready to push people away, and he’s tired. He wants to settle down and commit to you.

Jungkook can be vulnerable around you; he knows you won’t use his weaknesses against him like people have in his past. You don’t even view them as things that make him weak, just what makes him human, because no one can be perfect. However, he would argue that you seem to be pretty damn close.

He feels most comfortable with you; he trusts you and can be himself. There is no pretence with you; Jungkook likes who he is around you.

Jungkook loves you.

In your eyes, he is the guy who comforted you when he saw how nervous you were while getting your first tattoo. The one who keeps an extra hoodie in his car for you because you never dress for the weather. The one who finishes work and picks up takeout for the two of you to eat together. That’s the Jungkook you see, the one you know better than anyone else—the one you have wrapped around your precious finger.

Despite his many shortcomings, you’ve never asked him to be any different from who he is. You never judge him for the life he’s leading and never pressure him to change his ways, no matter how flawed. Yet you still never expect the worst from him.

So now, all he fears is that he has accomplished the one thing he dreaded the most, and has destroyed the link holding the two of you together.

Should he go to your place?

Jungkook hasn’t gone over because he didn’t want to seem overbearing; he wanted to give you your space until you felt ready to talk to him on your terms. Also, if you weren’t answering his calls, you most likely wouldn’t answer your door either.

But he doesn’t want you to think he won’t fight for you. He won’t lose you without a lack of trying. If Jungkook is anything, he is persistent. He has too much to say to you and isn’t about to sit here and take this distance any longer. He’s willing to do whatever it takes.

As he looks out of his window and stares at the hundreds of lights, he feels a new surge of determination; he is rising from this low point he has sunk into, fed up with wallowing in his self-pity.

He turns and strides to his door, yanking it open with vigour. He sprints down the stairs and rushes outside into the chilly night, heading straight for his car.

Jungkook pulls out of his spot and drives the familiar route to your house, accelerating down the road at the maximum speed permitted by law. In his state of urgency, it seems that all he encounters are red lights and stop signs.

His grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he has to hold himself back from stomping too hard on the gas pedal when the light turns green.

Answer your phone I’ve got to get to you God, I hope you’re alone And someone new isn’t next to you

Y/N POV

You gather yourself and halt your wandering thoughts to get up and check who is at your door. You are not expecting anyone, and you told your friends you won’t be going out with them tonight. Your excuse was being too tired from work, but honestly, you were just too sad to pretend you were okay.

Could it be him? He said he wouldn’t give up and had to see you. Do you want it to be him? You would be lying to yourself if you said no.

So it’s a surprise when you open the door and see Taehyung standing there with his hands in his front pockets, teetering back and forth on his heels.

Part of you is disappointed, not because it’s Taehyung but because it’s not Jungkook.

“Tae? I said in the group chat that I’m not going out tonight. Didn’t you see my message?”

He looks you up and down and barges in, walking past you.

“And didn’t you see my message? I said you are going out tonight, and I was coming to pick you up. Why aren’t you ready?”

You were so preoccupied with your phone, listening to Jungkook’s message and reminiscing, that you didn’t notice any other messages. But when you go to your chats, you see his words are true.

He plops down on your couch, stretching his arm out on the back and gives you an expectant look, his eyes wide and his brows raised.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? Go get ready,” he makes a shooing gesture with his hand and continues.

“The clubs aren’t open all night—well, actually they are…” his brows furrow as he looks off into the distance for a brief moment, then catches himself, “But I don’t have all night, so let’s go!” he demands with a clap of his hands.

“I’m not going out tonight, Tae. I told everyone I’m staying home.”

You lie on the couch next to Taehyung, your back resting against the armrest.

“Didn’t we just go over this?” he points between the two of you, “You are going out; everyone is already at the club. They got a table, and I’m sure Jimin has already downed a shocking amount of shots, so we have to leave soon if we want to catch up.”

Taehyung taps your knee twice and then shoves your legs off the couch, bringing you to a sitting position. You take a deep breath and throw your head back, crossing your arms while closing your eyes.

“I don’t feel like going out. I want to stay home.”

“And do what? Continue to sulk over pretty tattoo boy?”

You open your eyes and turn your head toward him, pouting, “I was not sulking.”

He stares at you with a raised brow, filled with doubt.

Rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh, your arms drop to your sides, “I’m just not in the mood, I’ll only bring down the vibe.”

Taehyung turns his body to face you, a sympathetic expression on his face.

“You’re only making this harder for yourself by just sitting around and thinking about him, Y/N. I understand like him a lot—I do, but a guy like that isn’t worth wasting your life waiting for him.”

You look down at your hands in your lap and chip at your nail polish.

“He’s been leaving me messages. He tells me how sorry he is and that he misses me. He sounds like he’s having a rough time, too. That doesn’t erase what he did, I know. But it was just one mistake. He’s a good man, Tae. I’ve always known he wasn’t perfect, but everyone has faults, right?”

Taehyung holds your hand and squeezes it, leaning down to meet your gaze. His voice is careful when he speaks.

“People like him always know the right thing to say. If he were such a good guy, he wouldn’t have used you the way he did. Yes, everyone has faults, but you can find someone whose faults don’t hurt you. It may have been only one mistake, but if he truly cared about you as he claimed, he would have never treated you that way.”

Tears form in your eyes and your voice cracks, “It’s just—I know him; it sounds pathetic, but he has shown me a side of himself that I know he doesn’t show everyone. The real him. And that’s the Jungkook who has my heart. That’s the Jungkook I love. We’ve experienced so much together, it’s difficult to just move on from him.”

“If you don’t try to move on from him, how can you expect to, babe?”

He’s right; you haven’t tried. Throughout this entire period of your ignoring him, you have consistently kept Jungkook in your thoughts. Every time you went out with friends, every time a guy tried to flirt with you, and every time you held your phone—Jungkook. When you woke up, when you were at work, and when you went to bed—Jungkook. Even when you heard a knock at your door, as Taehyung did earlier, you hoped it was Jungkook.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

Your mind and heart were devoted to Jungkook. Everything revolved around him.

Your tears overflow, and you finally break. Taehyung wraps his arms around you, and you cry into his shoulder. He holds you until you calm down, and your sobs turn into sniffles.

You lift your head and wipe your cheeks.

“I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry, Tae. You came out to have a good time, and here you are consoling me. I have probably fucked up your fun night out,” you croak out, “I must seem so stupid, all hung up over a guy.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, and you certainly aren’t stupid. I would never think that of you. I know how much of yourself you give to someone important to you. I wish you would give yourself to someone worthy, not someone who takes advantage of you. You are an amazing person, and if Jungkook hasn’t realized how lucky he is to have you, then he’s the stupid one, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Tae. Not just for tonight, but for listening to me go on about Jungkook this past month like a sad, broken record. You stuck by me and have been so caring, always validating my emotions. I swear I’m the one who’s lucky and unworthy of you.”

“Nonsense, you know you can depend on me anytime,” he says, patting your head and smiling affectionately.

You smile back, glance down, and see his shirt stained with your tears.

“I ruined your shirt,” you sniffle, pinching at the fabric.

Taehyung looks down at it and shrugs, “Hey, I prefer your tears to stain my shirt rather than Jimin’s vomit,” he jokes to lighten the mood.

You laugh, and he points at your face, his expression bright.

“Aha! There she is! Happy Y/N, I thought I had lost her!” he exclaims.

He turns his head, looking around, arms stretched out as if speaking to a crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, no need to fear; I have managed to make Y/N laugh.”

Taehyung once again proves to be the best friend one could have; you can always count on him to cheer you up and gather the pieces of your broken heart without fail.

“Shut up, Tae. I have neighbours,” you giggle, playfully pushing him.

He joins your giggles and returns your playful push, “Well then, go get dressed! If you don’t, I will run up and down the hallway screaming. I came here to take you out and have fun. Sitting at home alone can’t be better than partying with your insanely funny, incredibly handsome best friend. And if that isn’t enough, Seokjin’s dancing is a sure way to lift anyone’s spirit.”

“Okay, fine,” you agree, getting up with a big smile. The image of Seokjin’s dancing already boosts your mood.

Making your way to your bedroom, you yell out, “But if anyone comments on my swollen eyes, you’ll be dealing with them!”

“I’ve got your back, babe. Don’t worry!”

You can always count on Taehyung.

Tell me, tell me now am I too late Is there somebody new taking my place? Is there somebody’s lips on you Where mine used to be, yeah?

Jungkook parks across the street from your building; he sits in his car, pondering whether it’s too late to knock at your door. Are you already asleep? Should he have waited until tomorrow? If you answer and open it to find him standing there, will you shut it in his face?

He knows right now he’s not your favourite person, but he doesn’t believe you would be so cruel as to turn him away at your doorstep.

He rubs his hands down his face and lets out a deep sigh.

How could he let things end up like this?

He ruined something so special, so sacred. Building a relationship so pure and superior doesn’t happen to everyone, and he managed to have it hanging by a thread.

Your relationship can’t just end because of one mistake—a big mistake, yes, but he believes that what you two have is strong enough to overcome this. The two of you have made so many wonderful, meaningful memories.

Jungkook remembers how good things were before this—before he ruined everything.

✧ ──── 《《 ──── ✧

Jungkook never imagined he would witness such a breathtaking sight: you bare before him, glazed eyes and slightly parted lips, lovely sounds escaping as he traced wet kisses along the nape of your neck, down your throat, over the curves of your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue over a sensitive bud, drawing out his name from your throat, the same one now decorated with shades of blue and purple.

“Please, Kook,” you beg, pleading with him for more, and he is more than willing to give it to you, knowing he can hardly deny you anything.

He smiles, kissing his way back up to your lips, positioning his body over yours and aligning his hips so he can slide into your warmth with a soft thrust, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs showing how aroused he has made you.

You clutch at his shoulders with a moan, nails digging in and creating crescent shapes with every thrust he makes. Jungkook fucks you slow and deep, hitting every nerve within you, making you unravel before him in no time at all. His lips move slowly against yours, tongues twirling together as your legs wrap tightly around his body, drawing him closer and deeper into you, his sighs of contentment pouring into your mouth.

Jungkook is sure this is what heaven feels like: his hands on you, hips rocking against your own as you devour the sounds escaping each other’s lips. You encourage one another until he picks up pace, gazing down at your face, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

The coil in your stomach tightens, twists, and is ready to snap. Jungkook is also at his limit, eyes hooded but maintaining eye contact with yours, his forearms supporting his weight on either side of your body.

Overcome with pleasure, the feeling of his skin against your own, united with you in the most intimate way two people can be. The act is sinful, but fully infused with the profound bond you both share. What you and Jungkook have cannot be expressed in words, and he does not think the two of you need to articulate what you both understand.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” he husks, gently nibbling at your jaw.

One of his hands moves to where your bodies meet, flicking his thumb over your clit repeatedly. Then you come undone, the release so intense that his name echoes off every corner of the small bedroom. He continues throughout your orgasm, prolonging it until the sensation of your walls tightening around him brings him to his climax, spilling inside of you with a groan of your name, lips pressed harshly to yours, putting everything he feels into a single kiss.

He pulls away, carefully removes the condom and ties a knot at its end before disposing of it and falling onto the bed, shifting onto his side to look at you. The moonlight streams through the window, illuminating your skin in a radiant glow. Jungkook trails his fingertips along the surface of your arm, moving down until he reaches your hip, pulling you closer to him as you tuck your head into his chest.

Jungkook spots the numerous red crescents on your body have already begun to take on a darker colour, almost as deep as the black ink he used for your tattoo. Jungkook wishes for nothing more than the colour of the marks to be so deep that it will cover you forever.

He holds you close, his thumb brushing over the familiar tattoo on your hip— the everlasting mark that brought you two together. You found each other that day months ago when you walked into his studio and had him ink his design on you, and ever since then, you have been a part of his life. The ink serves as a reminder of the bond between you and Jungkook, etched onto your skin just as you are to him.

“You should let me give you another one.”

“What do you think I should get?” you whisper against his chest.

“My name, here,” he replies, his inked finger tracing just above the left side of your chest, right over your heart.

You smile as you push him so that he lies on his back; you move to lie on your stomach between his legs, your chin resting on his chest. His hands come to your back, caressing it up and down.

“Hmm, and you’ll get my name here,” you lightly run your pointer finger over his left pec.

Jungkook lifts a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, smiles tenderly, and nods while humming in agreement. His fingers linger, skimming your face as his gaze softens. His eyes are filled with adoration as he looks at you.

Jungkook can feel your heartbeat against his stomach; he wonders if you can feel his own under your touch. Both of your hearts are beating rapidly, which he assumes is due to the physical exertion you both just experienced and not from this impassioned moment you two are having.

He can physically feel how much affection there is between you two. He has never felt that before. It’s moments like this that make Jungkook feel incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.

“Aren’t tattoo artists usually against getting other people’s names tattooed?” you tease with a smirk and a raised brow.

Jungkook shrugs with a smirk, his tongue playing with his lip rings, “I live by my own rules.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head, “Oh, what a rebel you are.”

Jungkook’s hands go to your sides and tickle you with a gentle pinch.

“Kook!” you laugh as you jolt further up his body.

“Kook!” he mocks in a high-pitched voice, imitating you before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close.

You pout and make a soft ‘hmph’ sound so insanely cute that Jungkook can’t resist the smile spreading across his face; he laughs and then kisses your pouty lips and all over your face. You giggle and lightly tug his necklace with your finger, bringing his mouth to yours for a long, sweet kiss. When you break apart, Jungkook gives one final peck above your left breast.

“I was serious, you know,” he murmurs, voice low. He juts his chin lightly to where he last placed his lips.

“Haven’t you marked me enough?” you stretch out your neck and gesture at the hickey-covered skin.

“I wanna mark you every way I can, baby,” he smiles smugly.

One of your hands plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, and the other plays with the hoop in his ear. You avoid eye contact, keeping your eyes focused on the earring.

“Tattoos are forever, Kook,” you say sheepishly.

“You’re telling me,” Jungkook chuckles, tilting his head toward his right arm covered in a sleeve of tattoos. He turns his head to kiss your wrist and then cups your face with both hands, making you look at him, “Hey, you planning on going somewhere and not telling me?”

You shake your head, his big hands still holding it.

“Hmm, I’m a bit worried now; I need to hear you say it,” he squints his eyes, teasing.

“No, I’m not going anywhere,” you grin.

Jungkook mirrors your grin and nods, “Good,” he pulls your face closer and nudges his nose against yours, “Because I’m not either.”

He squishes your cheeks together in his hands, making your lips pucker out.

“It’s not easy to find someone this cute,” he coos, shaking your head.

You pull your head from his grasp and lightly slap his chest. His hands slide down to your ass and give it a firm squeeze, long fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

“Even harder to find someone equally as sexy,” he whispers in your ear, his teeth grazing lightly. His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his body against yours.

“Huh, it can’t be too hard, I found you,” you quip, poking his cheek.

Jungkook gives your ass a spank, and you gasp as he flips you both over, with you now under his hovering body.

“Why don’t I show you just how lucky we both are?” his tone dripping with seduction.

The tip of his nose trails down your neck as his lips ghost over your skin, down to the valley of your breasts. He stops to knead the soft mounds, surging forward to swirl his tongue over one of the hardened nubs before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. He hums in satisfaction. He releases it, giving it a gentle bite, and switches to show the other the same attention.

Once pleased, he continues his trail past your stomach and stops at your pulsing heat. He nestles his head between your legs, his hands grip your thighs and spread you wide open, your already slick folds clench around nothing in anticipation.

Jungkook gives your clit a teasing lick before diving in without hesitation. You whimper when his mouth latches onto you, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit, your hands flying into his hair. He groans, his eyes rolling back as he tastes you, his tongue circling your clit and then flicking over it repeatedly before dragging down to press at your entrance. Your hand tightens in his hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole.

“Fuck, Kook,” you whine, grinding harder as your thighs tighten around his head.

He exhales through his nose, eyes crinkling as he smiles into your pussy when you buck your hips against his face. The sequence of sucking, licking, and prodding with his lips and tongue has you both writhing in ecstasy. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against you fill the room. The intimate night of passion continues until the moon gives way to the sun.

✧ ──── 》》 ──── ✧

Jungkook is pulled out of his memories when he sees the door of the main entrance to your building open. He watches you step out, and his heart nearly leaps out of his chest upon seeing you.

Your short, tight dress hugs your body in all the right places. Your tall, thin high heels complement your legs phenomenally. Your hair cascades down your figure, making you look like an angel. You look gorgeous.

The sight of you would bring any man to his knees. You must be dressed like that to go out for the night, so he must act now if he doesn’t want his drive here to be for nothing. He moves to get out of his car, but just as his hand touches the handle, he sees a man walk out right behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook looks closely at the man’s face; he’s good-looking. He’s sure he recognizes him from your posts. He looks like one of the guys you’ve tagged in your pictures, the ones where he’s had his arm around you. The happy idiot. What was it... Taemin? Taejin? Taewoo?

Whoever he is, he extends his arm for you to link with yours, and you do. You’re about to step down the stairs when you stop and say something to the man. You have an anxious expression, but whatever you say to the man beside you only brings a fond smile to his face. He responds to you and leans down to kiss your cheek.

The cheek that Jungkook’s lips have been on more times than he can count.

And you light up as if he made everything better. You walk down the stairs, arm in arm with the man whom Jungkook worries has taken his place.

Once you step off the last step, you stop once more, unlink your arm, and pull out your phone. The light from the screen shines on your face; you tap your fingers on it for a few seconds before putting it back in your purse. You relink your arms with who Jungkook thinks is the luckiest guy in the world and set off down the street, heading to your destination.

Jungkook feels the wind being knocked out of him. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten out of his car. He stands far enough that you don’t notice him, but close enough to see you perfectly. To see how you were on the phone, the phone that Jungkok knows is full of his messages and calls. To see that you are still ignoring.

Tell me, tell me now, what can I do To make it up to you Won’t you tell me, please? Tell me, please

All the hope and determination Jungkook had when he left his house seemed to have disintegrated. He feels small, much like your figure becomes as you walk further away from him on the arm of another.

Jungkook stares at your back until he loses sight of you as you round the corner. He stands there feeling like he has just been slapped in the face for the second time tonight, but this one stings much more.

What else can he do?

Jungkook doesn’t know how to make it up to you, and at this point, he’s unsure if he’s fighting a losing battle. You seem to be doing just fine without him. It hurts to see you happy when he has been miserable without you.

He needs you to talk to him and to tell him what to do to win you back. Tell him what he has to do for him to hear your laugh, smell your scent, and touch your skin. He needs to have you back in his arms, on his lips—in his life.

He tilts his head back, eyes focused on the moon and how it mocks him, shining brightly while he is filled with darkness.

He stands there, disoriented; all he can do is let out a bitter laugh at the irony that he drove all the way here to watch you walk away from him, now and quite possibly forever.

With a sad smile, he is overwhelmed with questions, out of his mind. Why are you two ending? How can you? How can you two end?

All your memories together overflow out of his perforated heart. He puts his hand over his chest, trying to block them and keep them inside, but they escape through his fingers.

Jungkook had you by his side and took you for granted; now he is watching you be cherished by another man while he stands by like a stranger in the night.

He doesn’t want to be like this, he doesn’t. He hates this, really hates this.

He doesn’t believe it would hurt this much even if his heart stopped.

Answer your phone I’ve got to talk to you I’m out here in the cold Trying to get through to you, oh

Jungkook never envisioned that when he finally loved someone, he would be left alone and heartbroken, not because you decided to run off, not because you were undeserving, but because he pushed you away.

He took too long to walk through the flames and got burned. He dove off the deep end too late into a pool of emptiness and hit the bottom.

Jungkook stands in the street, the cold air biting at his cheeks, but he can’t find the strength to return to his car and drive home. He came here on a mission to talk to you face-to-face. He hopes that if he stands here long enough, you might walk back around that corner and come straight to him. He hopes you will answer his plea and do something to fix him. Hold him in your arms and tell him that everything will be okay and that the two of you will work together to mend what has been broken.

But you don’t, and Jungkook’s heart may be beyond repair at this rate.

Jungkook’s heart hurts so badly that it’s strange that he’s even alive.

He should have followed you, chased you blindly, even if you were trying to run away from him. He should have yelled at the top of his lungs that there’s a hole in his heart that can’t be filled, and he’s dying of pain.

How can he forget you? He doesn’t know how to do that.

Like the tattoo he inked on your hip, you are etched in him— an indelible impression on his heart.

You are the only person he wants, your hands to comfort him, your voice to soothe his heart.

He’ll have to settle for listening to your voice through the phone, even if it’s only your voicemail.

Jungkook digs into his pocket for his phone, unlocks it and with your name already on the screen, presses the call button and waits.

Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone, answer your phone Answer your phone

But he doesn’t have to wait for long.

He’s immediately met with a voice, but not your sweet voice; instead, it’s an answering machine.

And now he has been slapped for the third time tonight, so hard that he stands there in the cold, gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles might bleed. He releases a shaky breath as his eyes fill with tears and spill over before he knows it.

Jungkook is hit with the reality that you still refuse to talk to him. You have now blocked his number on your phone and blocked him out of your life.

“We are unable to reach the person you are calling at this time. Please try calling back later.”

↬ so how do we feel? hope he suffered enough for your liking. let me know what you think! muah! 💋

taglist: @bangtans-momma @celticcountrygal @annafarrr

2K notes · View notes

mrsarnold · 6 months ago

Note

ambessa x reader who has a toddler OR

vi x pregnant!reader

be my be my baby !. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

syn : pregannt hcs with arcane girls!

pair : arcane girls x fem!reader

warn : none! pure fluff, idk what else

note : i couldn't choose one so why not all, thank @heart4caitlin for helping me bless u king

when jinx finds out she was excited. you told her through a carving when she was teaching you how to make stuff with wood. jinx is the type of person to make mostly everything for the baby. she's also extremely protective btw, like goes crazy when she cant find you because she doesnt want you or the baby hurt, and also because shes scared you left her.

i also feel like jinx would be like REALLY overwhelmed with knowing her s/o is pregnant especially if its after silco died. jinx would try to make baby bombs for the baby but they were a huge no once you found out

i can vision her talking and painting the baby bump too. plans on teaching her child everything that she knows with building and refuses reader to buy the baby clothes and essentials bc jinx wants to make everything. she also refuses reader to but the baby clothes and essentials bc jinx wants to make everything

also she would be incharge decorating the babies room and has her signature everywhere and little monkies.

when vi finds out i feel how the way you would tell vi is the normal way and just showing her the test i fear.. vi definitely falls asleep with her hand on your bump aswell as telling the baby bump stories about her childhood adventures while reader is sleeping. adding onto that vi would ban allowing reader to let the baby have anything similar to her childhood adventures because she doesn't want the poor baby growing up in consent danger.

vi naming the baby the most outrageous names, 'oo we should name them cookie', 'how about brownie', 'chicken wing?', 'NO VI', 'what why :((('. shes the type to fist bump readers belly and she claims the baby kicks her as to fist bump her back. you would want vi to wrap the bow trend on her belly ( iykyk the trend ) and vi would brag about it.

vi making jinx build everything bc vi is to 'busy' buying everything online meanwhile she still freaking out ab being a good mother or not :((. she would aswell beg cait for some help. she would also want to do everything for you, making food (which she sucks at), massaging her feet.

when cait finds out i feel you would do one of those aesthetic boxes thingys and give it to cait and cait is over the moon. cait definitely plans EVERYTHING out. researching for the best doctors around, scheduling every appointment, baby proofing the house, making sure she has everything for the delivery cait would definitely keep the pregnancy on the down low until the baby is born especially from her mom but it was to late when the baby was borm ( iykyk )

caitlyn buying the most expensive and useful stuff for the baby after you convinced her not to. cait also reads first time parenting books just in case and tells you new facts everyday! buying reader expensive but comfy maternal clothes so reader feels better about this situation

OH and speaking of her mom, telling the bump about stories of her mom before she sleeps

when sevika finds out i feel she would find out on date night. she tried to order you wine then you admitted it right there and then. first things first we can agree.. shes so protective oh my gosh, the second anyone looks at you shes killing them. she also fixes everything around the house for you and the baby. she also loves loves feeling the baby kick but hates seeing you in pain so tells the baby to stop.

she also tells silco about the baby and makes him the god father before he dies. speaking of silco ! she tells the baby stories of silco after he dies. also tells the baby stories of jinx's shaninagans 24/7. once again makinv jinx build everything for the baby while she goes around and tell all of zaun if she sees one of them even look at reader wrong she'll kill them i fear

when ambessa finds out i feel you would be nervous to tell her because ambessa is always busy so ambessa finds out by herself. she also gets the most perfect cooks for you and the baby. she's very nervous to tell Mel at first but tells her eventually when its blantly obvious. shes also gets the best designers to design the baby's room.

she also talks to the bump about kino all the time lets be real

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monicfever · 2 months ago

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could we have some frank boyfriend hcs please? love ur writing !! <3

frank castle as your boyfriend. 𝜗𝜚 hc’s

r e q u e s t e d ♡

cw ᝰ .ᐟ gender neutral reader ,, sfw ,, it’s frank castle so 🤨 mentions of blood and stuff

FRANK AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . loves quietly. fiercely. like it’s carved into him. he’s not the type to write poems or whisper sweet things — but he brings you coffee before you wake up and keeps his arm around you in every crowded room. he remembers how you take your tea, what shirt you sleep in, the exact sound you make when you laugh too hard.

frank doesn’t fall in love. he commits to it. like a vow. something permanent. he watches over you the way most people breathe — effortlessly, constantly, without needing to think. puts himself between you and danger before you even register that something’s wrong. it’s not dramatic for him — it’s just instinct.

watches bad action movies with you and critiques the gun work the whole time. “that’s not how recoil works.” “no way that guy walks away from a wound like that.” but when you laugh at him for it, he gets all smug. “just saying. i could do it better.”

frank’s not invincible. he carries grief in his ribs and guilt in his spine. sometimes it catches up with him. some nights he won’t come to bed. just sits on the floor beside it, back to the wall, eyes dark. like if he closes them, he’ll lose everything. including you. he doesn’t talk about his past much. doesn’t talk about feelings either. but when he holds you it’s with this kind of aching gentleness, like you’re the last good thing in a world he doesn’t trust anymore.

he never asks for anything, but he always lights up when you touch him first. when you kiss his shoulder without warning. when you reach for his hand. like it catches him off guard, every time — the idea that someone like you could choose someone like him.

he always drives. always. he won’t say it out loud, but he needs to be in control — needs to protect you, even from a fender bender or a bad intersection. keeps one hand on the wheel and one on your thigh, thumb brushing back and forth. sings quietly when his favourite old songs come on. you almost miss it the first few times.

has a quiet little grunt-laugh when you get sarcastic. never full-on laughs — not the belly kind — but it’s a sharp exhale, a crooked smile, head tilted like “you got me.”

“you tired?” you’ll ask, and he’ll grunt something half-hearted. “i’m good.” but then he’s pulling you in, pressing his face into your neck, one heavy arm around your waist like a shield.

he doesn’t say i love you much. but he shows it in the way he always notices when you’re cold, the way he drives a little slower when you’re in the passenger seat, how he keeps an extra sweatshirt of his in your closet like it belongs there. frank listens when you talk. keeps your words tucked away like secrets. remembers names you mentioned once, the kind of books you like, the way you bite your lip when you’re about to cry but don’t want to.

he’s not scared of bullets or pain or anything that can be solved with his fists — but he gets scared of you leaving. scared that you’ll wake up one day and realize you deserve someone softer. someone safer, someone cleaner. so he’s careful. careful not to break things, careful not to raise his voice. careful not to bleed too close to you, even when he’s hurt.

keeps a toolbox in your apartment before he ever brings a toothbrush. fixes that squeaky cabinet door without being asked. rehangs your shelves, patches your drywall, silently wires your lamp so it stops flickering. doesn’t make a big deal about it — just hands you a cup of coffee after and kisses your forehead like it’s nothing.

does your dishes without saying a word. folds laundry with sleeves tucked in and socks matched. gets grumpy if you try to help while he’s in the zone. “i got it,” he mutters, brow furrowed like laundry’s a mission he must complete correctly. then he’ll look over and gently nudge you onto the couch. “sit. rest.”

like taking care of you is just part of his day.

he doesn’t sleep through the night, but he tries not to wake you. gets up quietly, makes tea in the dark. reads worn paperback thrillers with a flashlight like he’s still out in the field. but if you come find him — sleepy and barefoot, rubbing your eyes — he just opens his arms. pulls you into his lap, tucks his chin over your head.

gets oddly proud when he teaches you how to shoot. or fix a leak. or throw a punch. grins when you hit the target, calls you a natural. but the truth is he never wants you to have to use any of it. he’d burn the world down before he let something hurt you.

keeps a knife in the drawer by the bed. one in the glove compartment. one taped under the coffee table. it’s not paranoia — it’s habit. he was trained to anticipate the worst. but when you ask him about it, he softens. “just in case,” he says, hand resting on your back. “nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

he’s the kind of boyfriend who always knows when something’s off. even if you’re smiling, even if you say you’re fine. he notices when you’re quiet for too long, when your shoulders are tight. doesn’t push — just pulls you close, rubs slow circles into your back.

won’t ever tell the world what you are to him, but he keeps a photo of you tucked behind his driver’s license. always checks on it before he leaves for anything dangerous. you’re his anchor. his reason. he’s not a man who believes in second chances — but somehow, you are his.

he cooks like he’s back in the marines. efficient. fast. always enough for leftovers. but over time, he starts adding things just because you like them. makes your eggs how you like them, even if he doesn’t eat that way. tries your weird coffee orders without complaint. grumbles when he actually likes it. “too sweet,” he says, but finishes the whole thing.

when you fall asleep on the couch, he carries you to bed. always. tucks the blanket around you, kisses your forehead, brushes your hair back with hands that have broken bones and pulled triggers — but only ever touch you like you’re made of silk. then he lays beside you, arm wrapped around your waist, breath evening out to the rhythm of yours.

still wakes up too early. still checks the locks. still sits with his back to the wall in restaurants, even when it’s just brunch on a sunny sunday. but now he does it with your hand in his, thumb tracing soft, absent-minded shapes across your knuckles. he doesn’t say it, but his body speaks for him: i’ve got you.

he keeps things simple. practical. doesn’t like clutter. but then your books start piling up on the nightstand, and your sweater ends up on his desk chair, and your perfume lingers in the bathroom air — and he doesn’t move any of it. not even once. instead, he adds to it. a second toothbrush. a pair of slippers in your size. a grocery list stuck to the fridge that says “your coffee” in his blocky, all-caps handwriting.

he won’t say i miss you when you leave for a few days, but he’ll text to ask where you keep the cereal. then follow up with “never mind, found it.” when you come home, the bed’s made, the dishes are done, your favorite blanket’s draped over the couch. he doesn’t know how to say i missed you, so he just lives it.

he starts to laugh more. not loud, not often — but the kind that makes you freeze for a second because it’s real. usually when you tease him. or when you trip over nothing and pretend it was “parkour.” that little huff he gives, the crinkle by his eyes — it feels like a gift every single time.

he does that thing where he kisses the top of your head every time he walks behind you. in the kitchen, brushing your teeth, putting on your shoes. just a soft press of his lips to your crown.

you’re the only one he lets bandage him. he’ll brush off broken ribs like they’re nothing but sits still when you press alcohol-soaked cotton to a split knuckle. watches you like you’re something holy. like your hands could undo every war he’s fought.

reads labels now. like, really reads them. checks if the cereal has too much sugar. makes sure the medicine doesn’t interact with the one you take. won’t admit it, but he googled the skincare brand you use to see if it was safe.

refuses to let you carry heavy groceries. like, absolutely not. you once tried to bring in two bags and he took them out of your hands mid-step. “what the hell are you doin’?” he said, annoyed, already loading up his arms.

doesn’t like crowds, but he’ll go anywhere with you. leans down and says “stay close” in your ear, hand low on your back the whole time. doesn’t let go until you’re home again.

he won’t dance. won’t sing. won’t go to parties. but he’ll hold you in the kitchen, swaying slightly to the radio while you hum into his chest. that, he’ll do.

major dog person. duh. doesn’t care that he’s tough. doesn’t care that he’s seen things — nothing melts him like a dog wagging its tail. he’s the kind of guy who’s out in the yard throwing a ball, talking in that low, soft voice that only dogs get to hear. “go get it, buddy!” and you almost can’t believe it’s him saying it.

makes sure your car is always in running condition. not just oil checks, either. he replaces your windshield wipers, cleans the headlights, checks the tires — all without you asking. it’s like his way of protecting you, even when he’s not around. he knows it’s a small thing, but it’s one more way to make sure you’re taken care of. you get a flat tire? frank’s there in a second. doesn’t matter what time it is, doesn’t matter if he’s just gotten home after a week-long job. he’ll grab the tools, roll up his sleeves, and take care of it — no problem.

when he gets home after a mission, he’s quiet at first. but then he’ll slide into bed next to you, pull you close, and breathe you in like he can’t quite believe he’s back. “missed you.” he’ll whisper, voice hoarse, like it took everything out of him just to say it.

when you’re quiet, lost in thought, he notices. doesn’t pry, but always checks in with a low “you alright?” just so you know he’s paying attention.

frank is actually really into music, but only plays it when he's alone with you. he has an old guitar stashed in a corner of the apartment and you’ll catch him strumming it softly in the mornings before either of you are fully awake.

whenever you’ve had a bad day, he’ll quietly take care of things around the house — extra dishes done, the laundry folded without you asking, everything wiped down and cleaned up. not because he has to, but because he wants you to feel like home, like you have one less thing to worry about. he doesn’t say anything about it; he just silently goes about it while you take a nap or relax.

he’s sentimental about your things. you’ll catch him carrying around a keychain you gave him, or putting a postcard from your last vacation on his fridge. it’s subtle, but there are all these little pieces of you around his place — items that remind him of you, things that carry a piece of your heart.

good at remembering all your friends’ names. and the names of their kids. and their jobs. you’ll be like, “i saw claire today,” and frank will be like, “the one with the twin boys? she doin’ okay?” like it’s his job to keep track of your whole social circle now.

he has a weird soft spot for baking shows. says he doesn’t care, just watches ‘cause you do — but then suddenly he’s dead serious about whether the sponge is overbaked. sits there with his arms crossed, judging the contestants like he’s on the panel. “too much fondant. gonna cost ‘em.”

he’s surprisingly good at picking gifts. not flashy ones — thoughtful ones. a new mug because your favorite one cracked. a hoodie from a concert you couldn’t go to. a book by that author you said you liked once, six months ago. he remembers everything.

he buys you snacks when he’s mad at you. not big mad — just quiet, brooding, stubborn mad. instead of talking it out right away, he drops a bag of your favorite chips or candy on the counter and walks away like that settles it. it kind of does.

he’s so gentle with your stuff. your phone, your clothes, your decor — he handles all of it like it’s fragile, even if you toss it around like nothing.

he has zero patience when you’re sick. not annoyed — just worried. extra gruff. keeps asking “you need anything?” even though he just brought you tea, tissues, meds, and a hoodie. paces around the house like he’s prepping for battle against your cold.

he doesn’t talk in the mornings. just grunts and nods. but if you’re up before him and being cute or busy or just existing in his space, he’ll pull you into his chest without saying anything.

he’s not a big texter, but he reads all your messages the second they come in. always leaves you on “read” because he’s looking at it immediately, even if he replies 3 hours later with just “ok” and a thumbs-up emoji he definitely didn’t mean to send.

he always checks the expiration date on your food. opens the fridge and mutters under his breath about the milk “cutting it too damn close.” doesn’t want you eating anything that’ll make you sick. throws out the sketchy yogurt when you’re not looking.

he’s so good at reaching things for you. doesn’t matter how tall you are, he lives to reach the thing on the top shelf before you can. you stand on your toes, and he’s suddenly behind you like, “you’re gonna hurt yourself.” then hands it over like a knight returning a holy relic.

he doesn’t like you walking home alone. ever. if he can’t come get you, he’ll track your location. texts you the whole way like, “where are you now?” “you inside yet?” “door locked?” and you know the second you stop answering he’s already throwing on his jacket.

he uses your bath products and thinks you don’t notice. you’ll wonder why your fancy shampoo is suddenly disappearing faster, but then he walks past smelling like lavender and vanilla and acts like nothing’s different. you bring it up once and he grunts, “smells nice. don’t make it a thing.”

he tucks your legs into his lap when you sit next to him. even if he’s sore. even if you’re fidgety. he just wants you there — anchored to him, warm and close. sometimes he absentmindedly rubs your calves or traces circles on your ankle while he watches the news.

he hates being away from you overnight. says he doesn’t mind, but when he’s gone, he sleeps like shit. texts you random things at 3 a.m. — “you lock the door?” “the heater working?” “dog okay?” you know he only really rests when he’s home and you’re curled up next to him.

he always brings you water before bed. even if you don’t ask. even if you forget. there’s always a glass or a bottle on your nightstand when you crawl under the covers.

he kisses the inside of your wrist when he’s too tired to speak. when the day’s been too much. when his body hurts and his mind’s too loud — he pulls your hand to his mouth and presses his lips there.

he never lets you pump your own gas. doesn’t matter the weather. rain, snow, heatwave — he takes the keys and gets out before you even unbuckle. doesn’t say a word about it. just does it because it’s second nature now.

he always opens jars for you, even when you don’t ask. like you’ll just be holding it, about to try, and suddenly he’s there. doesn’t say anything, just takes it, opens it, hands it back.

he lets you warm your hands on him. no complaint, no hesitation. just grabs your frozen fingers and presses them to his neck, under his shirt, into his palms. grunts when it stings, but never pulls away. just says, “go ahead. s’okay.”

always lingers at the door when you leave. watches you walk to your car, stands there until you’re out of sight. won’t move. won’t blink. like part of him won’t settle until you’re home again.

he’s weirdly good at untangling necklaces. big hands, thick fingers, but somehow he’s patient as hell with tiny knots. sits at the table, squinting like he’s disarming a bomb.

he knows which drawer all your stuff is in. at his place, at your place, doesn’t matter — he knows where you keep your chargers, your snacks, your pain meds. grabs things before you even ask. sometimes you wonder how he pays that much attention. you forget — he’s a soldier. he notices everything about what he loves.

he lowkey judges your shoes. not fashion-wise — function. “you’re gonna walk five blocks in those?” and if you say yes, he just sighs and gives you his arm the whole time. doesn’t say another word. but if you stumble once? “told you.”

has a deep, secret love for hot chocolate. doesn’t ask for it, never buys it, but if you make it? he’s sipping it silently, eyes half-lidded, shoulders relaxed. you catch him making it for himself once. refuses to make eye contact.

he gets the mail before you can. every day. rain or shine. not because he cares what’s in it — because he wants to be the one to deal with anything stressful before it reaches you. bills, notices, whatever. you only ever get the fun stuff. the packages. the postcards.

he remembers anniversaries you forget. first date. first road trip. the day you moved in. doesn’t make a big deal out of it, just quietly brings home your favourite dinner or sets a movie up you mentioned on that day.

he absolutely has a favorite mug. won’t admit it. but if you’re ever using it, he pauses for a second like he’s been emotionally robbed. won’t take it back, though. just pours his coffee into something else and quietly hopes you offer to switch.

he fixes things that don’t even belong to him. neighbor’s broken porch light? fixed. squeaky gate down the block? doesn’t squeak anymore.

never lets you walk through the door first if it’s dark. goes in ahead of you, even if it’s your place. checks the rooms out of habit. flips the lights on.

knocks before entering your space, even when you live together. bathroom door cracked? he knocks. bedroom door half-closed? still knocks. doesn’t matter if he knows you’re alone — he respects your space.

weirdly good at calming you down in traffic. if you’re driving and someone cuts you off? hand on your thigh. if you're stressed about getting lost? “take the next right, i got you.”

he teaches you how to punch — gently. wraps your hands himself, touches your wrists like he’s afraid they’ll bruise. he holds the pads out and murmurs “that’s it, right there,” every time your form’s good. he doesn’t teach you so you can fight. he teaches you so you won’t ever feel helpless.

so careful when you’re sleeping. gets out of bed like you’re made of glass. turns the TV down low. covers you up without waking you, tucks your hair behind your ear, kisses your shoulder and just stares for a second like he still can’t believe he gets to have this.

he writes down your car’s license plate. and the make. and the year. and the tire pressure. keeps it in a little notebook in his glove box — not because he’s nosy, but because he needs to know in case anything ever happens.

puts his name down as your emergency contact without asking. just does it. one day you’re filling something out and he goes, “already on file.” like it’s the most natural thing in the world. like of course it’s me. who else?

he reads manuals. like, actually sits down and reads them. toasters. phones. whatever you buy, he knows how to fix it, clean it, use every setting.

he wears your hair ties on his wrist. even when you didn’t ask him to. finds them in the bathroom or under the couch and just keeps them there like it’s a reflex. you don’t notice until one day he silently hands you one without looking and you realize — he’s always paying attention.

calls you “kid” sometimes, even if you’re not younger. not condescending — it’s fond. soft. it slips out when he’s feeling protective. like, “c’mon, kid, get some rest,” or “you did good, kid.” and if anyone else calls you that, he bristles like no — mine.

he gets tense when you’re near windows at night. especially lit ones. moves around the room in ways that put him between you and the glass. not paranoid. just hardwired to protect you. you don’t notice until one night you go to close the curtains and he’s already there, pulling them shut with a soft, “let me get that.”

he texts you like he’s on a recon mission. all short updates: “headed back.” / “store’s packed.” / “traffic’s shit.” but every now and then, he’ll throw in something like “you eat yet?” or “thinking about you.” and those are the ones that wreck you a little.

he always leaves the porch light on if you're out late. even if you say you don’t need it. even if you’re only gone for ten minutes. it’s not about the light. it’s about you always having something to come home to.

he’s secretly a little superstitious about you. doesn’t let you say things like “what if something happens to you.” knocks on wood under the table. leaves the porch light on even when you’re only gone ten minutes. he’s seen too much not to be cautious. and you — you’re the one thing he refuses to lose.

double-knots your laces. crouches down in front of you without a word, doesn’t make it a thing. just ties them up snug and gives your ankle a gentle pat before standing.

sets your things by the door if you’re running late. bag, keys, jacket, water bottle. lines them up neatly like he’s giving you every small advantage he can. “you’re gonna be late,” he says, already handing you your coffee. you kiss his cheek on the way out. he pretends it didn’t make him smile.

he gets fussy if you don’t eat. doesn’t scold, just… fusses. quietly. starts cooking something without asking. sets a plate in front of you like “you don’t gotta finish it, just eat a little.”

wears your chapstick when he can’t find his. acts like it’s no big deal. “same stuff, right?” but if it smells like you he ends up keeping it in his pocket the rest of the day.

refills your water bottle. always. before bed. before work. if you leave it in the car, he brings it in and tops it off. just does it. in his head, hydration = survival = love.

he buys you medicine before you even realize you’re sick. notices you sniffling or rubbing your temples, and the next day it’s already there — cold meds, your favorite tea, tissues, cough drops.

started 4.27.2025. finished 4.29.2025.

( masterlist. )

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