#but the idea from last night is so soft and I want the bonds between brothers to be shown | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

n1ght0f-nyx · 6 months ago

Note

Your last fic was so good! I return once again, i meed more of my husband.

Can we get some soft fluffy smut with per'tah? Maybe the first time they are finally intimate with each other? Can be part of the series or stand alone.

Love ya 😘

woven bonds- pert'ah (orc oc) smut

part 6 of woven bonds and smut

pert'ah x fem reader

water-lillie you keep me sane

tags/warnings- over the time you two have been together his english has gotten better, arranged marriage, human female x male orc, gentle giant, your together!, smut, very gentle man but hes huge so its still rough, heavy illusions to the idea of pregnancy, no condom obvi, virginity taking (on both sides) hes actually a total tease, pert'ah has a frenum piercing

also, feel free to request non-woven bonds-related things that involve pert'ah or my other ocs (see my masterlist) i love writing for all these characters and seeing the mass of support I've gotten over the last month!

i need to learn to stop writing so much- 3739 words

The night was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the wind outside the small home you now shared with Pert’ah. The hearth had died down to embers, casting a gentle, warm glow across the room. You could still hear the faint crackling of the last burning logs as you sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the woven blankets beneath your fingers.

Pert'ah was quiet, too, standing near the window, his broad back to you as he gazed out into the night. The silence between you both wasn’t the uncomfortable kind it had once been. After weeks of tentative conversations and quiet gestures, the distance between you two had shrunk. And yet, tonight felt different. Intimate in a way that made your heart race.

“Are you… ready for sleep?” Pert'ah’s deep voice broke the stillness, the hint of uncertainty in his words unusual for him.

You nodded slowly, your eyes drifting toward the space beside you. “Yes....im tired"

The truth was, you had grown used to Pert'ah sleeping on the floor beside the bed, wrapped in his own blanket. He had never pushed for more, always respecting the distance you’d initially demanded. But tonight, you had quietly asked him to sleep beside you. The words had caught in your throat, but they had come out, and he had agreed without question.

Pert'ah approached the bed cautiously, as if not wanting to spook you. His steps were quiet for someone his size, his large, rough hands moving carefully as he pulled back the blanket and slid in beside you. The bed felt smaller now with him in it, his presence all-encompassing and warm.

You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the heat of his body beside you. His breathing was slow, steady, and somehow calming.

After a few moments, you turned to face him. “Pert’ah?”

He shifted, turning his head to look at you, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. “Yes?”

“Tell me more about your past,” you said softly. “We’ve been together for a while now, but… I still don’t know much about where you come from.”

Pert’ah let out a slow breath, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite read. “My past… is not so interesting. I am… simple man.” He paused, his hand resting near yours on the bed, his fingers curling slightly as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should.

“I was born into weaving,” he continued. “My family, we make many things. Cloth, art. From when I am small, I learn to use my hands to create.” His voice grew softer as he spoke, a far-off look in his eyes. “My father, he teach me much. Say that strong hands can create just as much as they can destroy.”

His gaze shifted to you, and the look in his eyes made your heart stutter.

“And you?” you asked quietly. “What do you want to create… with me?”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your combined breathing. Then, Pert'ah’s large hand slid across the blanket, covering yours gently. His touch was warm, comforting, and his fingers entwined with yours as if they were always meant to fit together.

“With you?” he repeated, his voice low, thoughtful. “I want to create… peace. Home.” His thumb brushed the back of your hand, his touch tentative but sincere. “I want to make you happy. Want you to feel safe with me.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. You shifted closer to him, your fingers tightening around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. For so long, you had resisted, keeping him at arm’s length, but now, lying here with him, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I think… I’m starting to feel that way,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “With you.”

Pert'ah’s arm wrapped around you slowly, carefully, as though he feared breaking the fragile moment. His hand rested on your back, holding you close. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your ear.

“I never thought I would end up here,” you murmured. “With you. I never thought I’d…” You trailed off, unsure how to put your feelings into words.

But Pert'ah understood. He always did.

“We are here now,” he said softly, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “We can...make future together.”

You looked up at him, meeting his golden eyes. “What kind of future do you want?”

His eyes softened, his tusked smile gentle. “One where you smile more. Where we work together. You and me… mates.”

It was a simple answer, but it made your heart swell. The life you had imagined for yourself before seemed distant now, irrelevant. What mattered was the man beside you, the quiet strength in his words and the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You shifted again, tilting your head up until your lips brushed his. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened, the space between you disappearing completely as his arms tightened around you.

When you finally pulled away, your breath mingling with his, you smiled softly. “I think… I’d like that future, too.”

Pert'ah’s smile widened, his rough fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face, his sparkling golden eyes looking down at yours he leans down, and when he doesnt see you pull back, connects, pressing his lips to yours

you kiss back, his tusks feel uncomfy against your lips, but you'll manage, its all worth it for him, you lightly press your hands against his leather sleep tunic, he had sewn two matching ones for the both of you so you had a more comfortable rest on the furs.

you pull back, looking up at him with a sweet loving smile, but one that would never compare to the one he gave back, all that man did was love you

Pert'ah's eyes lit up when you kissed him back, a warmth spreading through his chest at your acceptance. He could feel the slight discomfort of his tusks, but the way you willingly leaned into his touch, despite them, filled him with a deep longing to cherish and protect you.

As you pulled back and smiled up at him, Pert'ah's gaze followed yours, drinking in the sweetness of the moment. His smile grew wider, mirroring yours, but the intensity behind it made you feel like you were the only person in the world. His hands framed your face, gently tracing the curves of your cheeks with his thumbs, as if to memorise every detail. "You are beautiful," he said, the words coming from a place deep within his soul, his voice filled with a sincerity that left him breathless, He leaned in once more, this time tenderly pressing his forehead against yours, savoring the closeness.

The softness of the moment hung between you, a palpable energy that seemed to fill the air with anticipation. Pert'ah's heart pounded against your chest, a rhythmic reminder of the love he felt for you. His lips grazed your temple, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your jawline, seeking permission to continue exploring the contours of your face.

And then, there was no hesitation; his mouth claimed yours, demanding nothing but surrender as his tongue danced with yours in a sensual waltz. Time lost meaning as the world narrowed to the two of you, suspended in a sea of desire and affection. When he finally released your lips, Pert'ah's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath hot against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "More than anything, I need you."

In that instant, Pert'ah knew that he would move mountains, cross oceans, and defy fate itself to ensure that you remained by his side forevermore. Your love was his anchor, his guiding star, and his reason for existing. As he cradled your face in his palms, Pert'ah vowed to spend eternity cherishing and adoring you, unwavering in his devotion to the mate he had found in you.

you pulled lightly on his tunic, and with a look into your loving eyes, he gets the hint, pulling his shirt off, pulling your lips against his again

Pert'ah's tunic fell away, revealing the strong contours of his chest and the softness of his skin beneath. The warmth of his body radiated towards you, drawing you in like a magnet. As you pressed your lips against his, the sensation of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, igniting a flame of desire that threatened to consume you.

Their lips moved in tandem, a sensual dance of tongues and breaths that left them both gasping for air. Pert'ah's hands cradled your face, his thumbs caressing the delicate skin of your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. The gentle touch belied the intensity of his emotions, the love and longing evident in every caress.

As you kissed, Pert'ah's fingers danced over your body, exploring every curve and contour as if mapping your very soul. His hands roamed under your nightgown, finding the soft flesh of your stomach, your breasts, and your thighs, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and burying his nose in the tender spot between your collarbone and shoulder.

"Mine..my wife" he whispered, the single word echoing through your mind like a promise, a vow, a declaration of love. In that moment, you belonged to him, and he to you, bound together by threads of passion and devotion.

As the kiss lingered, Pert'ah's grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until you were flush against him. your bodies molded together seamlessly, fitting like pieces of a puzzle designed specifically for yours alone. The contact sparked a firestorm of sensations, each brush of skin against skin amplifying the intimacy and urgency of your embrace.

Time stood still as you clung to each other, lost in the swirling vortex of desire and affection. Nothing existed beyond the confines of your little bubble, where the world melted away, leaving only the pulsating rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

you kiss at his jaw and temple, playing with his hair as his kisses your neck, bruising your throat with marks, you pull your own tunic off and if he could be any more excited, he would explode, looking down at your body, your tits, your waist, your tummy, thighs and what laid between them, your sweet core

The sight of your exposed skin seemed to hypnotize Pert'ah. His eyes traveled over your curves, drinking in the beauty of your naked form, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing second. The bruises on your throat added a depth of color to the canvas of your neck, a testament to the intensity of his emotions.

His fingers traced the outline of your waist, tracing the shape of your belly button, and the gentle rise of your thighs. He couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of your body, every inch of which he had come to adore. Each kiss, each touch, each whisper of breath against his skin sent waves of desire crashing through him like a tide.

Without breaking eye contact, Pert'ah slowly lowered his head, his lips grazing your breast. His mouth closed around your nipple, sucking softly as his tongue began to circle the bud, drawing it into the wet cavern of his mouth. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, your inner muscles clenching in anticipation.

As he explored your body, Pert'ah's hands roamed over your skin, mapping every contour and valley, tracing the lines of your veins and the tender curve of your collarbone. Every touch, every caress, every kiss sent ripples of pleasure through you, building upon themselves until you felt like you might burst apart from sheer joy.

Lost in the haze of desire, Pert'ah didn't notice when needy tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, nor did he realize that your nails dug gently into his scalp as you arched into his touch. All he saw was the radiant beauty of your face, bathed in moonlight, illuminated by the pure, raw emotion emanating from your very pores.

"pert'ah…please…more" you plead, squirming, tugging at his hair lightly, you needed more than gentle licks, nothing about this would be light, no matter how hard he tried, but you were okay with that

Pert'ah's ears perked up at the pleading in your voice, and he lifted his head to look at you with a question in his eyes. Seeing your desperation, he smiled, a mischievous glint in his golden eyes. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was more than happy to oblige.

His tongue flicked out, teasing your nipple with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing out a sharp intake of breath from you. You arched into his touch, your body aching for more, and Pert'ah responded eagerly.

His mouth closed around your nipple once more, this time applying gentle suction, then harder and harder, until the pressure became almost unbearable. He pinched the other nipple with his fingers, the dual sensations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Pert'ah's hands slipped down your stomach, his fingers dancing over the tender skin, exploring every dip and curve, before finding their way to the swollen nub between your thighs. He pressed a finger against you, and you gasped as he applied gentle pressure, circling the sensitive tissue in rhythmic motions.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint as he continued to tease and taunt you, the sensations building to a crescendo within you. The tightness in your abdomen coiled tighter and tighter, threatening to unleash a torrent of release.

Just as you teetered on the brink, Pert'ah withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting and desperate for more. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you writhe in frustration, knowing full well the effect he had on you.

"Don't worry..my love," he purred, leaning forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss. "I haven't forgotten about you."

you squirm in his touch as he pulls back, sitting back to look at his work, the glistening slick that covered your cunt like a thin film, watching you pant and plead with your eyes, he leans back on his knees and takes his cock out from behind his loin cloth, giving you a show as he pulls his foreskin back, revealing his sheen-green tip which leaked precum down onto his silver frenum piercing

Pert'ah's showy display had you squirming in place, your eyes fixed on his erect member as he stroked himself slowly, the motion drawing your gaze to the glisten of precum that trickled down his shaft, pooling at the base of his penis.

The sight of his erect cock made your mouth water, your inner thighs slickening further in response, the need to feel him inside you reaching a fever pitch. Your fingers involuntarily drummed a rhythm on his leg, urging him to take action.

His golden eyes sparkled with mischief, a challenge in his gaze that he knew you wouldn't be able to resist. He leaned forward, his hand wrapping around your thigh, fingers closing around your calf as he gently but firmly drew your leg up.

"I'm ready when you are, my love," he purred,

you nod, spread and ready for him, he his breath hot against your neck as he slowly dragged his member through the slick folds of your pussy, the tip parting your labia and brushing against your clit.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending in your lower body singing in delight as he began to rock his hips, slowly pushing his cock deeper into your depths. The sensation of him sliding inside you, the feeling of him filling you completely, was indescribable, aside from heaven and a little (alot) painful

Pert'ah's movements were slow and deliberate, allowing you to adjust to his size, his cock slowly sinking deeper into your slickened core. He knew he had to be gentle, careful not to push too hard, too fast, not yet. He could feel your body tensing up around his, the gentle pain of entry easing as you began to relax.

With a tender touch, Pert'ah cradled your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes, seeing the mix of pain and pleasure there. "You okay, love?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble as he paused in his movements, waiting for your response.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, the pain giving way to pleasure as he started to rock his hips again, his cock sliding in and out of your depths in a steady rhythm, each thrust deeper and more precise, easing you into a comfortable cadence.

Pert'ah's fingers began to trace the outline of your breasts, his touch soft and soothing, drawing your attention to the sensations building within you, making it difficult to focus on anything else besides the pleasure coursing through your body.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice warm and encouraging as he continued to move inside you, filling you completely, stretching you deliciously tight around his shaft.

Pert'ah watched as you stared down at the scene below, your eyes widening as you saw his cock moving in and out of your depths, leaving a trail of wetness and evidence of your shared pleasure. A lump formed in your stomach, and Pert'ah's heart skipped a beat as he realized you were struggling to process this new sensation, this newfound intimacy between you.

His movements slowed, and he lifted your chin, forcing your gaze back up to his. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked again, concern etched in his voice, his golden eyes searching for any sign of distress or discomfort.

As he spoke, Pert'ah continued to move inside you, gentle but insistent, sensing that he needed to ease your mind, reassure you that everything was going to be alright. He wanted to be sure you knew that this was a good thing, that he was here for you, with you, and that he was going to cherish and love you for as long as you'd allow him.

His hands continued their gentle exploration of your breasts, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the hardness of his body, yet somehow perfectly balanced, creating a rhythm that was both soothing and exhilarating, keeping you grounded as you navigated this uncharted territory.

"Y-you're doing...oh fuck..youre doing amazing," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, his words dripping with sincerity, encouraging you to continue embracing this new aspect of your relationship, to revel in the raw power of your physical bond.

Slowly, Pert'ah began to pick up speed, his thrusts becoming more deliberate, more purposeful, driving deeper into your depths, filling you entirely, stretching you in ways you hadn't experienced before. Every stroke brought you closer to release, building pressure in your core, threatening to unleash a torrent of pleasure unlike anything you'd ever known.

As he reached the brink of climax, Pert'ah stilled, his body tensing, his hips locked tight against yours, his eyes fixed intently on yours, waiting for permission to finish what he started. "w-where...where can i..?" he huffs, squelches echoing through his cabin with each heavy thrust, his eyes were heavy, lidded as he glanced down at the imprint he formed your stomach as he thrusted inside

"shit...your...you're so gorgeous...gonna..fi-fill you up...make you a mama.." his word go straight to your core, and it just gushes, you spray all over his stomach and cock, showering him in your squirt

the room around him seemed to melt away, replaced by the primal urge to claim you as his own, to brand you with his mark, to show the world you were his and only his.

As Pert'ah watched, mesmerized, the sight of your gushing fluids splashing against his stomach and the base of his cock, his mind was reeling. This was real, this was happening, he could have a family. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and possessiveness course through his veins.

He let out a satisfied grunt as his orgasm washed over him, his body jerking in reaction, his cock spilling its load deep inside you. The warmth of your inner walls enveloped him, milking him dry, and he collapsed against you, spent but elated.

In that moment, nothing else existed except the two of them, lost in the throes of passion, bound by the threads of their desires and needs. Pert'ah's thoughts swirled with visions of the future, of growing families, of children playing under the sun-kissed skies, of laughter and tears, of memories forged in the fire of their love.

you cry out as he overflows your cunt with his seed, pert'ah heaves and drops down on top of you, panting and whispering praises in aftershock of his first time, you smile softly, snuggling into the bed once again, not caring about the sticky between your legs, you would clean in the morning

As Pert'ah's breathing slowed, his weight shifted, and he curled around you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, as if to keep you from ever escaping, to make sure you stayed right where he wanted you.

He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of you. "Mine," he whispered again, the word becoming a mantra as his lips brushed against your scalp.

You felt his heart beating against yours, a steady drumbeat that echoed the rhythm of your own. The comfort of his embrace washed over you, chasing away any lingering doubts or fears. In this moment, there was no denying the power of his claim, the intensity of his possession. You were his, and he was yours, bound together in a dance of love, lust, and desire.

As the silence deepened, the only sound the soft rise and fall of your shared breathing, Pert'ah's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves, the contours, the lines. Each touch was a reassurance, a promise of the pleasures to come, of the life they would build together.

I am TIRED

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sturnprime · 7 months ago

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SO WRONG IT’S RIGHT, chris sturniolo 🩵

from h ꨄ︎ ⎯ hi sooo streetboy!chris x richgirl!reader

i hope you enjoy 🩵 (join the taglist here)

chris doesn’t know how he ended up here. he doesn’t know how the two of you ended up with you situated on his lap, in your room of all places, when the two of you are utter opposites with entirely different ways of life.

he’s the type to roam the streets, indulge in late nights with his friends that keep the whole city up. you on the other hand, you’re the pristine sort; the one whose dad forbids her from being close to boys exactly like chris and has done so since you were much younger. it’s an interesting dynamic and he can’t help the thrill rushing through him as you whisper for him to be quiet. it’s adorable, the panic flooding through you even with your bedroom door locked and your window wide open to simultaneously take away the smell of his cologne and provide a getaway for him if it gets to such.

his hands are wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place as his lips travel the expanse of your neck and collarbone, his way of making his mark. not that it lasts long though because you’re instantly telling him he’s not allowed to mark you, telling him the sweet bruises forming on your skin like paint strokes across a canvas are only going to get you in trouble.

chris? chris doesn’t really care and when your pleading words escape your pretty plump lips, he can only seem to laugh, sucking harder. his hands grip you further and the moment a whine falls from your mouth, the corners of his mouth tug up into a smirk— a smirk that has your skin heating up within seconds. his teeth nip the skin below your jaw with purpose, his tongue quickly moving to soothe the slight sting.

“chris—“ you begin to speak but his right hand trails up to place a finger onto your lips, effectively shutting you up.

“shh angel, thought we had to be quiet, hm?” his words are laced in a mocking tone and you want to hate them, desperately want to hate even the mere idea of being with someone like him when your entire life you’ve been taught it’s wrong but there’s just something about him that throws every last one of your principles out the window.

he tilts your chin up with his finger, his calloused hand cupping your cheek as he forces your gaze to meet his. his eyes are blue, the shade you find in calming waters, but they hold a glint of fire in them. there’s a sense of challenge that dances in the pupils, almost urging you to deny him when he knows you can’t, knows he has your polished self wrapped around his finger.

his lips meet yours in a frenzy of adrenaline, his tongue parting your lips and sliding perfectly into your mouth to intertwine with yours in an erotic tango. his lips mould with yours, the slight swelling of his own locking your mouth into place as he moves you even closer, if possible. it’s as though even a small flutter of air wouldn’t be able to pass between the colliding of your chests against one another and he loves everything about it.

when he pulls away at last, his cheeks are slightly flushed and the sight serves as a reminder of exactly what you do to him. he would never have thought a girl like you could ever fuel his desire yet here you are, innocent doe-eyes looking up at him and your lips a touch bigger than when he first laid eyes on you. he wants to corrupt you, to take away every last bit of hesitance you have and crush it between his fingers until you’re begging him to prove your dad wrong, begging him to make you forget undoubtedly why this is a bad idea.

it feels so wrong yet at the same time, nothing has ever felt more right, especially not when your bodies slot together like destined puzzle pieces. it’s an invisible bond that forms between the two of you as you hear the sound of your parents’ voices from their room, a stark reminder of why this can’t be happening. none of this can be happening when they could walk in any minute, take away the soft feeling of his hips bucking up lightly. but then… why does the way his hands roam your body cause sparks of electricity to run through the course of your veins? why does it feel so fucking good if it shouldn’t be happening?

he notices your moment of slight reluctance and he wants to pull away, tell you that this isn’t what he wants so he can save the emotional turmoil that’s going on inside your pretty head but he’d be lying. he’d be lying if he claimed wanting to be apart from you now that he knows the way you whine when you’re needy or the slight gasps he can pull from you when you want more.

in an ideal world, the two of you don’t need to worry about your societal differences or just how complicated this new development is going to be. unfortunately, that world doesn’t exist but for a few fleeting moments, when he flips you onto your back smugly and you hit your bed with a little thud, it feels like any ounce of uncertainty leaves you. your only focus is on the way his fingers tug the hem of your baby tee until it’s completely discarded elsewhere. it’s not an ideal world but it still appears nonpareil.

TAGS 𖤐 @mattslolita @eyeliketoeatpoosay @chrissturniolossidehoe @middlepartmatt @raysmayhem-72 @conspiracy-ash !

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readychilledwine · 6 months ago

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Okay I have like a slightly out of pocket request/idea that I don’t think I’ve seen before and if this is not your cup of tea you can straight up IGNORE but it’s taken over my brain 😂 let’s pretend in this story that eris and mor are mates but it’s a rejected situation bc obvs mor isn’t into males. And helion and the lady of autumn are also mates. This is post Hybern, maybe during or after ACOSF. Beron (I know ew right but stay with me now) ends up finding HIS mate. And she’s like the sweetest thing ever and she’s terrified of him. (Beron is infatuated with her because of whatever power she may have but he’s still an asshole don’t get me wrong this is not a beron redemption request) It becomes public knowledge that beron found his mate and he plans on marrying her. eris REFUSES to let another female be subjected to what his mother went through so this is what spurs the whole murder beron and become high lord plot. I have no thoughts on what happens between but eris succeeds and becomes high lord in the end, but falls in love with beron’s mate during the process and it’s mutual love and it’s angst with a happy ending. Usually fated mates is my jam but I just needed every mating bond to go wrong in this one LOL. Except for Helion and LoA of course 🫡

A Game of Fate

Eris Week - Day 7 - Free Day

Summary - After the bond between Beron Vanserra and Eris's hidden lover makes itself known, the cycle of tyranny in Autumn is put to the test

Warnings - assassination, poison, Beron, mentions of abuse, food and sleep deprivation, beron x reader mating bond.

A/n - I've been holding on to this, and I am so sorry 😭. I played with it a little bit, but I this ultimately was the version I am happiest with! Happy last day of @erisweekofficial . It feels like I'm like leaving a long-distance friend after too short of a visit.

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

The Cauldron was wrong. Eris understood Azriel's claim in every sense now. The Cauldron had to be wrong.

There was no other explanation for why his father was currently signing papers to end his marriage because you were his mate. Sweet, kind, soft spoken you. You dreamed of far-off places, peace. You once told Eris you liked to imagine what the stars whispered to each other late at night.

You were a dreamer, and you were his. Eris had hidden you in plain sight since you became his peace. You were there for him after Mor rejected the bond. You were there for him after every beating, and you loved him through everything.

And now your father had to go and ruin it. You were 505 years old, and he finally felt the need to present you as a lady to the court to be married off however Beron saw fit.

If it was a massive payout your father wanted, he had it. Everyone knew what had happened the second the High Lord of Autumn laid eyes on you. The reactions ranged from jealousy to sympathy to shock. And now, two months later, the reaction was silence.

Without even speaking, you had changed the course of Autumn's history. You had ruined Helion, Rhys, and Eris's plans. You had freed his mother at the cost of yourself and your safety. Your words behind those closed doors would haunt Eris until he died, "I will marry you only if Lady Autumn is freed and allowed to leave to wherever she sees fit, safely and with your blessing."

Eris sighed as the other two High Lords, the inner circle, and his brothers all sat in Helion's war room. Eris's boots banged with each anxious and angry step, "Any ideas," he asked. "I would have to outright declare a blood duel now, which requires gaining the support of the rest of the courts beforehand, and we do not have time for that."

"We can not declare war," Rhysand contemplated. "No other court had claim to the girl, and you have no known claim to her."

"Even if he did, Autumn court law says the mating bond trumps it," Eris's mother, Anala, said. "Especially when it is between two members of the Autumn Court. Our laws allow males to claim their mates without her accepting the bond."

"Well if that isn't misogynistic-"

"Let me know when you actually ban wing clipping, and you can bash my court's laws," Anala spat at Rhysand. "You know, as well as I do change doesn't come overnight with a dictator."

Rhysand blinked at the former Lady of Autumn before glancing at Helion. You entered the room at that moment. The air seemed to tense as you did, but Eris rushed to you, holding your elbows. "Are you alright?"

Beron has been trying to manipulate you for weeks. He played games with your mind no long talks with Eris could prepare you for. Beron was a monster, and this was only your second week continuously being with him.

Helion stared to his love, his long lost mate, and stood, "Give me a week with your mother, and I will do it." The silence was screaming as the former Lady of Autumn shook her head. "There are no other answers, my love." Helion knew the look in Eris's eyes, the ache, the desperation, and the struggle.

He knew immediately what you were to Eris and what you could be to Autumn. Helion, much like Eris, knew he could not let you fall victim next, but you had no intentions to. He had watched his mate suffer for far too long, and the rumors of Beron's so-called adoration for the female in front of him did not mask the concern the Lord of Day felt.

You and Eris held eye contact. The room noticed the wordless communication. It was a bond that could only have been built through love, trust, and years of understanding. "I can not risk you like that."

"I would be careful," your reply was so soft but filled with confidence. "He won't even know if we use small amounts."

Eris couldn't help but hold your arms a little tighter, "I will not risk you." His eyes were pleading for you to reconsider to think this through.

"Would anyone mind including the rest of us in this... touching conversation?" Rhysand picked a piece of lint off his jacket before crossing his arms.

You spoke before Eris could, "There is a plant that grows in a certain place. It is highly poisonous and undetectable. The symptoms are no worse than an allergy. It can cause death within 2 weeks."

You watched as Anala shook her head at Helion, "I know of no such poison."

"That's because I made and grow it," Eris flinched at your admission and the questions it would bring.

Helion started to laugh, "You made it?"

Eris glared at the Day Lord, "y/n has a certain.. gift.. from the Mother."

"I can combine poisons," you rolled your eyes at Eris playfully. "Create new ones with no antidote or cures." Rhys and Helion turned to each other, clearly not assumed by the new information. "I only used it once. And they deserved it."

Anala's whiskey eyes went wide, "The human smuggler. You killed him?"

"Eris did. I just provided the supplies."

Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose. "Eris, why was this information not provided to any of us earlier? Do you understand how useful she is?" You shook your head toward the red-haired male. He seemed to calm down instantly at the sight of you. "Ah, I see. She's your lover. Not just your friend."

His mother seemed stunned at this information, "But Morrigan?"

You flinched at the mention of her name. "Has the same taste as I do, mother," Eris was only looking at you. "And I do not support this idea," his grip on your arms grew tighter. "He is not a common idiot."

"Nor am I," you declared. "I would be smart. I'll be close enough to him to make sure he gets it every day. Even after just a week-"

Rhysand finished, "He'd be weak enough to call an emergency meeting or for one of us to declare the blood duel."

You nodded at the Lord of Night, not even stopping to admire his dark beauty with the grace of Autumn and Mother Nature stood before you in Eris's eyes. There was no world where you planned to be without him, no world where you could see yourself in arms besides his.

But for a week you would not have a choice. For a week, you would play the part you were expected to, and it began before you even had breakfast the next day. You were woken up by two handmaiden ripping you from your bed in the former Lady of Autumn's private chambers and throwing your half awake and now naked self into a bath.

Every inch of you was scrubbed almost raw before your hair was washed and scented to Beron's preference of roses. You were dried and dressed in almost no time, the heavy traditional gown feeling like shackles on your figure.

No cotton dresses if this failed.

No more nights in Eris's sweaters and nothing else.

Once your hair and makeup we're finished, you were not taken to breakfast. You were taken to lessons. Beron had assumed you knew nothing of formality, nothing of etiquette. You had not been presented to his courts, so what other assumption could he have made as you were retaught the differences in dinning utensils.

You would not see food until that even came, and then the mood quickly fizzled away as the table for two was filled. The only sound in the room was meat being cut, your breathing. You knew not to speak before the High Lord addressed you. You knew he was testing you with silence.

You did not see Eris in this male. There was no sign of the life that burned in Eris's eyes. No freckle of Beron's seemed to mimic the night sky the way Eris's did. There was nothing special to you about Beron Vanserra. Not even the bond was strong enough to make you want him.

"How were your lessons," his voice was falsely sweet. "I assume based on your manners they went well."

"They were lovely, High Lord," you responded. "A good refresher for everything my mother had already taught me."

Beron glanced at you, "Are you inferring you did not appreciate me setting you up with the finest tutor in my court?"

Eris would be whispering to you to tread carefully. Beron's very body language told you this was beginning to enter dangerous territory. "No, my lord," you said softly, "But I would hate for you to waste time and resources on me when I am sure there are better things to put them towards."

Beron leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he cocked his head, "You know how to play. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy breaking you, mate."

And you thoroughly enjoyed watching him drink the whiskey laced with 3 drops of poison.

The next day was different. Beron himself was dragging you places without food right away this morning. He was showing you off to different advisors all day, bragging about your beauty, your ability to manipulate flowering and fruiting plants into harvests sooner.

You had used your magic so much to show off for him that you could hardly stand as he affectionately held your chair out for dinner. "You did wonderfully today," he began eating after forcing you to say a prayer to the Mother.

He didn't get to hear the silent plea you sent her. The silent begging for mercy.

You sid get to hear him start coughing as he drank his tainted whiskey that night, though.

Eris was worried for you the third day. You had been sent to bed late, awoken early. Once again, not allowed food. He had stayed by your and Beron's side in meeting that day.

His amber eyes never left your form. He was openly staring at the way you couldn't help but lean on Beron in your exhausted state.

And when Beron stole you for dinner, Eris made sure to add extra poison to his drink, watching as you played the part of the perfect mate, rushing to help him as he began to cough up blood.

Illness among the fae was rare, but when it struck, it was deadly. By the end of day 4, the Forest House was a much quieter place. Beron was bed bound due to Eris's choice to expose him to the poison morning, noon, and night.

You had warned him that this poison was aggressive in large doses. He had also tested it on more brutal lesser fae tracking to attack innocent children to see that. It was brutal, focusing on getting into the smallest cells of blood before shutting down major organs quickly and painfully. You were sat beside his father, crying, playing the part, and Eris beside you, a distraught son.

Day 5 Eris slipped the poison in a high dose into Beron's pain medication before finding you. He had cornered you into a hall closet. You had been forced from bed far too early again, forced to skip meals again.

Eris knew this tactic. Had Beron been healthy, he would continue this until your brain associated Beron's presence with food. It was a way to make you comply, to rely on him.

Eris put an end to it right that moment. He ordered you to be given food, then rest. His father refused the tea Eris offered him that night. Took weak to even open his eyes.

You had underestimated yourself and your powers, or perhaps the smug male above you had more to with it than he let on, bit day 7, Beron was unresponsive. Eris held you down on the bed you two had shared so many times before, kissing your neck and whispering words of how he'd move the very foundations of this world for you when the knock came on his door.

He quickly hid you, allowing a healer to enter. Eris faked his reaction perfectly. He fell to his knees with a strangled cry, hand on his heart as the healer moved to comfort the young heir.

Beron was unresponsive.

And by night fall, Eris truly fell over. His very blood felt as if liquid fire had been poured into him. His hearth grew brighter, hotter.

It wasn't until your heart-wrenching scream came that Eris knew without doubt what had happened. No one had prepared for the outcome of you losing your mate. No one had even questioned what it would do.

They had been so focused on saving you that they had forgotten the most important part of the bond, Beron was the other half of your soul. Grief. Guilt. Joy. Anger. You had never felt like this. You had never imagined a world where you could feel so deeply it ached and made you sick.

You pushed healers away as you held Beron's hand. You pushed Eris away as he came to kneal beside you. You didn't want to feel this, yet you did. You did as he forced you up and out of the room. You did as Beron's body was burned before his ashes were given to the trees. You did as you watched Eris take his place.

The grief only stopped when Eris concerned you that night, his hands on your hips, and he led you to another room where a separate celebration took place. Anala stood in Day Court attire, laughing as Helion dipped her, laughing as Lucien smiled at her from across the room, Elain safely tucked to his side.

Eris's middle brother stood dancing with his male lover, the two of them just swaying. Mor was there with Emerie, lips by her ear gossiping. "I ache too at times," Eris looked at her, a longing in his eyes as he did. "I wonder if I made the right choice to let her go on my loneliest nights. Then I see you."

Eris kissed your knuckles, "I see you, and I regret nothing. Not even what I did in secret."

You looked at him then, "Eris?"

"I stole the black poison. The one you never tested. Every time he and I ate together, I slipped him that one as well."

Your face fell, "You-"

"Weren't going to risk it. Not with the female I am in love with being involved," Eris drank his wine slowly as he studied your reaction.

"So no big fight needed?"

"Oh, trust me, I wanted that," he clarified. "I didn't realize it would work as quickly as it did. I wasn't sure what you had been crafting. He died before I could challenge him, but before he could break you."

The two of you continued watching Helion and Anala, continued watching Lucien and Elain, his brother, Mor.

The grief did linger, but as you took his hand, it faded more. "Let's go dance, High Lady," he whispered into your ear.

And with each spin, every dip, the raise in laughter, the ache continued to fade.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar x reader #acotar #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra acotar #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris fic #eris acotar #eris week 2024 #eris week 2024 day 7

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blackbirdsblackberries · 7 months ago

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Hey, Tira!! Anon that suggested Latina! Reader here. First of all, are you doing good? Remember to drink water, okay?

Secondly, for a neglected! Reader plot,(or maybe a one-shot, whatever you feel like writing) what do you think about magical girl! Reader? Like, there's this pink (or any other color) teenage girl/boy in gotham that fights some type of not really scary monster (maybe those from precure, as they don't look that frightening) with glitter and hearts and cute stuff and then the batfam is just flabbergasted because why?? Are they?? So cute?? And they become yandere because they just think reader is so so adorable and innocent

And maybe gotham villains have a soft spot for reader becuase they saved them for the monster thingys

And now reader has to deal with all the most powerful entities in gotham being obsessed over them

And IF it is a neglected! Reader they have to deal with the pain of being adored by the batfam as their magical girl persona, but not as their real self

OR MAYBE!! Star butterfly! Reader (i could elaborate if you want!)

Sorry for the long ask and any writing mistakes, and again, really self indulgent because I love love love magical girls!!

Hi! I love hearing from you again!!! I'm doing good, I just watched the Deadpool and Wolverine movie and it's taken a grip on me 😩

I love that idea for the plot! I was hoping to do a magical girl reader because my FYP on both Tiktok AND Tumblr has been magical girl batfam and I just finished watching Sailor Moon last night.

I'd love to incorporate that into the plot (as well as make a separate one-shot of it in a different instance).

I for sure think that the Batfam would have the mindset of "oh, they're dressed up in cute, bright colours and is fighting non-frightening monsters. That must mean they're an innocent teen playing dress up and doesn't actually know the truth about the real world"

Whether it's true or not is up to you to decide for now but I personally think that Reader would be in the middle, aware of the world around them but oblivious to how it affects themselves - or completely different then that, Reader would be completely aware of the world and struggles in real life but fights as a magical girl + with a smile on her face so she can give others hope.

For the villains I think for sure that the ones who have a proper soft spot (eg. Wouldn't get Reader involved in crimes, would work to protect Reader) would be Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Riddler, Two-Face and Penguin.

For the villains that will let Reader get into trouble so they can save them I think it would be Bane, Catwoman, Clayface and Killer Croc. (Possibly Mad Hatter).

For the villains who would purposefully incorporate Reader into their schemes I think the main ones would be Joker, Hugo Strange and Scarecrow (for two different reasons however).

For Joker he'd see it more so as a bonding experience, a way to "hang out" and "catch up". Even if the Reader is held hostage, in the middle of the battle field, etc.

For Scarecrow I think it would come moreso from a sense of morbid curiosity. How far will Reader go to help people? How does their mind work? How will they react to Fear Gas? What is their fear?

I'd definitely think Harley would love the outfit and Mad Hatter would start to think of you as Alice with your colourful get-up.

If we're talking Batman villains who aren't in Gotham (Talia, Ra, Deadshot, Deathstroke) then I feel it would be a different kind of attachment.

It would be more like "what is this colourful child doing in such a dark place?" (Even if you are already in your adult years).

Talia and Ra would see Reader as someone to train, Reader has great strength to wield and if Talia/Ra can train them then Reader will be a great asset.

The difference between the two would be that Talia grows attached in a nurturing way while Ra grows attached in a condescending way.

Eg.

Talia would think of Reader as a child for her to protect

Ra would think of Reader as a lamb that will be slaughtered without him.

Deadshot has his own kid, he doesn't care much for another until seeing Reader hurt/sad. Reader would be a substitute for Deadshot's daughter while she's with her mother.

Deathstroke, I really don't like him (sorry if you do, he just makes me feel icky), but I feel he'd have a mix between Talia's headspace and Ra's headspace.

"Reader can't survive without me guiding them. Reader needs a father to help them grow" it doesn't matter if you have a dad, he won't compare to Deathstroke. If it's such a big deal for Reader Deathstroke will just remove Reader's father from the picture.

I'd love for you to elaborate on Star Butterfly!

Dw about long requests, I literally squealed when I saw it!!

#dc #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #yandere #yandere dc #dc robin #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #dc fanart

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itsnesss · 23 days ago

Note

can you write me a sub axel smut?? maybe all the dojos bond at the hotel & play 7 minutes in heavens and then axel & reader get paired and reader gives him a handjob?

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | the night before the tournament, tension fills the air as you and axel are paired for a game of "7 minutes in heaven." in the privacy of the bathroom, the tension between you two grows

warnings | sexual tension, smut, explicit content, power dynamics, dom!reader, sub!axel, handjob

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The night before the tournament, the tension was in the air. All the dojos were ready for the showdown, but they knew they needed to relax a bit before the big competition. The hour was late, almost midnight, and each sensei had made their rounds through the dorms to make sure their students were asleep. However, everyone knew that, in reality, they weren’t. They had all pretended to be asleep, waiting for the moment when the door closed after the last round of checks to gather in secret.

Through dark hallways and with knowing smiles, members from different dojos gathered in one of the competitors' rooms. It was a quiet and private place, where laughter and jokes filled the air. Around some cold drinks and with soft music playing in the background, the atmosphere was filled with a relaxed, carefree energy. That night wasn’t just about relaxing tense muscles, but about enjoying each other's company before the battle that awaited them the next day.

Conversations were light, the tension of the competition disappeared for a while, and jokes flowed easily. But amid the laughter, everyone knew this night wasn’t just for unwinding. There was a game some already knew about, a game that would test not only their skills but also their nerves.

"7 minutes in heaven," someone whispered softly, and laughter erupted around the room. It was a tradition in some dojos, though for some, the game was a way to break the ice. For others, it was an opportunity to make things a little more interesting.

At first, it seemed like an innocent idea, but as the night went on, smiles began to turn more nervous, and gazes grew more intense. And you knew something different was going to happen when Axel was paired with you.

You had noticed him throughout the night, though unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. There was something in his demeanor that kept you intrigued. He was so confident, so calm, yet there was an underlying layer you couldn’t decipher. Every time your eyes met his, something stirred inside you, and you quickly looked away, as if trying to hide what you were feeling. But inside, you wondered if he had noticed it too.

Finally, the moment arrived. Axel and you were called to enter the bathroom, a small space where the rest of the participants watched with knowing smiles. The door closed behind you, and the atmosphere inside became even more intimate. Axel didn’t say a word. Instead of coming closer to you or making a move, he went to a corner of the bathroom and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as if he was completely in control.

You stood there, frozen, watching him for a moment, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t just the closeness that confused you, but the tension that seemed to hang in the air. Did he feel it too? You couldn’t read him, he looked so calm, so sure of himself, as always. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop wondering if this was really what you wanted. If, in the middle of the competition, this was the moment to take that step, or if you were just confused.

"We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to," you finally said, breaking the silence. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable, especially with everyone watching.

Axel looked at you for a second, but didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, watching you, his eyes locking with yours. The tension between you both seemed to grow, and you started to wonder if you really couldn’t keep that distance between you two. Silently, you realized that words were no longer necessary. There was something in the air, something you both knew but didn’t dare to address.

"You know..." you began, trying to break the silence. "I never thought I’d end up here, with all of you. It’s weird, right? We’re all so different, but in the end, we’re all here, preparing for what’s to come."

It was one of those things you said when you didn’t know what else to say, something silly to break the ice. However, Axel didn’t seem to be looking for words, and somehow, that put you at ease. He was waiting for something else. Something that couldn’t be explained with words.

And suddenly, without warning, Axel took a step toward you.

Before you could react, Axel reached out, touching you gently but with a firmness that surprised you. And without another word, he kissed you. At first, it was a soft kiss, almost shy, a touch of lips that seemed to say more than any words could. The world around you disappeared in that instant, and for a moment, all that mattered was that connection, that spark that had been growing between you two since you first noticed him.

The kiss deepened little by little, and although you were completely surprised at first, you couldn’t help but reciprocate. All the noise and laughter from outside the bathroom faded away, and all that remained was the sound of his breath, the brushing of lips, and the sensation of the connection between you two.

The connection was intense from the beginning, but the kiss began to be more passionate, more demanding. His mouth moved closer to yours, his lips pressing against yours with a demand that surprised you, but one you couldn't resist. And it was then, in that moment, that you realized how Axel felt. You could feel his need, his desire, and the tension between the two of you grew in an instant.

You had to stop the kiss when it felt too intense, but Axel didn't seem to want to stop. However, before you could say anything, he pulled away from you, without taking his eyes off yours. For a second, it seemed like they were going to kiss again, but they just stood there, looking at each other, the air filled with a sexual tension they both could feel.

After a moment of silence, Axel took your hand.

"Do you want more?" you dared to ask

And although it seemed silly after what had just happened, you didn't really know what was going on. Maybe all of this was just a game, or maybe something more.

But Axel just smiled and kissed you again. This time, the kiss was softer, more tranquil. It was as if the kiss had been the most intense part, and now they were in the prelude to something more important.

"I want more," he whispered without thinking, and you kissed him again.

One of your hands traveled from his chest to the hem of his sweatpants, and you felt the pressure of his erection. Axel moaned softly, and his hands slid down to your legs, as if searching for something deeper. And although the clothes made it difficult, you didn't want to stop now. No, not after the tension had built up so much that you didn't know what to do. All you knew was that you wanted more.

While you were kissing him again, you tried to slip your hands under his pants. Axel moved back a little, giving you space. You watched him as he lowered his pants, his eyes shining with desire and his lips red, as if they had been kissed for hours. And after a few seconds of silence, which seemed longer than they actually were, Axel lowered his boxer shorts.

Axel approached you again, and this time there was no space between you. His fingers brushed your cheeks, and he gave you a kiss softer than the others. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed at that moment.

You took his member with one hand, trying not to seem nervous. All of this was a bit faster than you had expected, but at the same time, it was something you had always wanted.

You began to masturbate him slowly, as if you didn't want to scare him. Axel moaned silently, as if that was what he had been waiting for. And as you continued moving your fingers, you began to brush your fingers over his glans, trying to feel his reaction. Axel gasped with a soft moan, his fingers caressing your skin, but you didn't stop. All you wanted was to feel his body tense and release his orgasm in your hands. You wanted to see him lose his mind, see the passion in his eyes, and feel his body contract as he ejaculated.

"Do you like it?" You asked, smiling, you loved having him before you, surrendered. "Ask for more"

"M...more" Axel said almost in a whisper, "Please."

"Good boy"

You couldn't stop, you couldn't wait any longer. You were too eager to feel his orgasm, to see what happened when a man who seemed so confident crumbled in your arms. So you masturbated him a little faster, moving your fingers up and down in a circular motion, and Axel gasped, his breathing becoming more intense. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and in a second, his body began to convulse. And even though you knew he was on the verge of orgasm, you kept masturbating him a little faster.

And just like that, without any warning. Axel collapsed in your arms, his orgasm covering your fingers. It was what you had been waiting for. What you had imagined for so long. The passion, the pleasure, the release. Axel was panting non-stop, his eyes closed, his body trembling with pleasure. And although his orgasm didn't last long, it seemed longer than it actually was. It was as if the world around you had stopped, and there was only a connection between the two of you.

Finally, after a moment that seemed infinite, Axel opened his eyes and looked at you. His gaze was intense, but there was nothing else in it. There was no shame, there was no guilt, there was no remorse.

"That was incredible," Axel whispered, as if it were difficult for him to pronounce the words.

You didn't need to respond, you just smiled. But you didn't just smile because you were happy to see that Axel felt good; you smiled because you knew this wasn't just a part of the game. It was something more. That only made you want more. You wanted to continue, you wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel his body against yours. And you didn't know why, but it seemed as if fate had wanted this to happen. As if everything you had lived had led to this moment. And, you knew you couldn't stop here.

So you smiled a little more, and Axel looked at you as if he knew something you didn't.

"Do you want to continue?" Axel asked after a second of silence.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the bathroom door, making both of them jump in place. "You've been in there for a while now!" shouted a voice you recognized as Miguel's, who was probably betting with the other Miyagi-Do guys. You couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Axel pulled slightly away from you, looking at the door with a somewhat amused but at the same time slightly annoyed expression.

"How's it going, did you conquer the bathroom?" joked Miguel from outside.

"Shut up!" you replied, with an almost playful smile. Upon hearing the laughter of others on the other side of the door, the atmosphere changed slightly.

When Axel looked at you again, with a slight smile, you smiled back, without needing to say anything more. The tension was still there, but now it was different. Much more intense, but also much closer.

Outside, the Miyagi-Do kids and the rest of the dojos kept joking around, unaware of what had happened in the bathroom. However, you knew that something had changed between you and Axel, something you couldn't ignore. And although the battle the next day was the most important thing, something in the air told you that what had happened that night would endure long beyond the tournament.

#cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai series #cobra kai x you #cobra kai season 6 #cobra kai s6 #axel kovacevic x reader #axel kovacevic #axel kovacevik cobra kai #axel kovacevic x you #axel kovacevic smut #axel kovacevic imagines #axel kovacevic x femreader

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justabigassnerd · 9 months ago

Text

A Safe Home

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 8,174

Warnings - Tim shows signs of slight anxiety (it's my fic and I pick how I self-project onto Tim Bradford), brief mentions of Tim's dad, fluff, angst, inaccurate descriptions of how fostering works, swearing, mentions of guns

Summary - after his talk with Lucy, Tim decides to move forward with the idea of fostering you

Sequel to 'Unexpected Bond'

A/N - hey y'all, back at it again with part two of my previous Tim fic (this is what happens when y'all encourage me). I had a lot of fun exploring this second part and honestly, I did have another idea pop into my head regarding this story so that may or may not happen. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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

After spending most of the night scouring the internet in search of answers to his question, Tim had finally come up with a game plan. As soon as he woke up in the morning, he placed a call to an agency, asking to be considered for fostering and he managed to get lucky with them having an opening for an interview that afternoon. With the interview secured, Tim then called Sergeant Grey and asked for a personal day which thankfully was approved which meant Tim could put his whole attention on impressing at his interview.

After walking Kojo, Tim got back home and found an email from the agency on his phone, with a list of things he needed to prepare for the interview. He let out a soft sigh as he read that he needed a letter of reference from his boss which meant he had to go to work to ask Grey for such a letter. He was hoping he would be able to prepare everything in the privacy of his own home but he figured he owed Grey a face-to-face conversation about why he needed a reference. After making sure Kojo was settled, Tim made his way out to his truck and made the drive to the station, silently glad he was going to arrive at the station after role call meaning most of the patrolling officers would already be gone, saving him from questioning from Lucy.

Arriving at the station, Tim entered the building, making his way back to Grey’s office and knocking on the door, waiting for Grey to wave him in.

“Bradford, I thought you were taking a personal day.” Grey muses, focused on the paperwork on his desk as Tim enters the room.

“I wasn’t planning on coming in. I just needed to ask you for something.” Tim says, standing before the desk, watching as Grey’s gaze shifts, looking up at Tim.

“What is that?” Grey asks, eyebrow raised as he sits back in his chair.

“I’m… well I am planning on trying to foster a kid and one of the things I need for my interview this afternoon is a reference from my boss and-”

“Fostering a kid? I must admit I wasn’t expecting that. If you need a reference then I’ll write one up for you. I’ll email you when it’s done.” Grey says with a nod, making Tim sigh lightly in relief, shoulders sagging slightly as he visibly relaxes.

“Thank you,” Tim says gratefully.

“It’s okay, Bradford,” Grey says warmly, smiling at Tim.

“If it’s not too much to ask, could this stay between us? If the fostering goes forward I don’t want her getting overwhelmed by people before she’s had a chance to settle in.” Tim requests, receiving a nod from Grey.

“This conversation will not leave this room. I promise.” Grey assures, his words filling Tim with confidence before he nods, thanking Grey one last time before heading out of the office and back out to his truck to head home.

Upon getting home, Kojo greeted Tim happily once he got home, acting as if Tim had been away for days. Tim then grabbed his laptop, opened it up and began to familiarise himself with what to expect from the interview while he waited for Grey to send the reference. Kojo hopped up alongside Tim and flopped alongside him on the sofa.

“Hey buddy, how do you feel about someone else living with us?” Tim asks the dog quietly, reaching out to pet him as Kojo’s tail thumps against the sofa, seemingly giving Tim the seal of approval. Tim reads through what to expect what feels like hundreds of times until he notes the time and realises he should go and visit you. After closing his laptop, Tim gathers the candy and books he bought you and puts them in a small gift bag before picking it up and heading back out to the truck to drive to the hospital. Tim had an easy journey to the hospital and made his way to your room with little issues. As he approached your room he noticed that the door was closed and worry began to grab at him, worrying that something had happened to you but thankfully as he stuck his head around the doorframe, he found you lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels in the naive hope of finding something worth watching. However, at the movement by the door, your eyes were drawn away from the tv and when you realised it was Tim you lit up, smiling as you lightly invited him in.

“Officer Bradford, what are you doing here?” You ask, turning the tv off before focusing your attention on Tim who shakes his head lightly at your choice of words when it comes to addressing him.

“Please, call me Tim. I thought I’d swing by to check on you and I also bought you some things to hopefully help this time in hospital a bit better.” Tim says, smiling softly as he approaches your bedside, offering the bag out towards you.

“Offic- Tim. You didn’t need to bring me anything.” You say, eyes flicking between the bag and Tim.

“I wanted to,” Tim says, taking a single step closer and holding the bag up towards you so you have no choice but to take it which you do after a brief silence. When you take the bag, you place it down in your lap, slowly extracting the items and taking a moment to appreciate every single thing he has gotten you.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t really your kind of stuff. I just googled things and hoped for the best.” Tim says, concerned by your silence and already trying to backtrack and explain himself.

“No, please don’t apologise. This is perfect. Thank you.” You say, looking up at Tim with a small smile and teary eyes, gratefulness obvious in every aspect of your expression.

“You’re welcome, y/n,” Tim says softly, moving to sit down on one of the chairs that sat alongside your bedside.

“How have you been? Feeling better?” Tim then asks, watching carefully as you nod, already ripping open one of the packets of candy.

“My side still hurts if I move too much but I’d take that pain over being dead.” You say with a slight shrug, offering the bag towards Tim and motioning for him to take one which he refuses at first but after a look from you, he concedes and takes one, thanking you quietly.

“No one’s tried to bother you while you’re here, have they?” Tim then asks, wanting to ensure everything is okay.

“I don’t think anyone knows or cares that I’m here.” You admit quietly, eyes flicking from Tim to the bed cover, picking at the corner of it to distract yourself.

“I spoke to one of my friends, she’s a detective and she’s agreed to help me open an investigation into the home you’re in. I’m going to follow along with it and make sure that something happens to that home.” Tim then says, letting you know about his plans to deal with things.

“I don’t know what to say.” You say quietly yet gratefully. Your whole life you’d been constantly let down by adults who were supposed to look out for you. Teachers looked the other way when you were bullied and Stan had never lifted a finger to help you at the children’s home. But now, Tim was doing everything he could to help you. Someone you had only met the day before was already putting in the effort to help you when no one else would.

“You don’t need to say anything, kid. I want to help you out however I can.” Tim says, his voice was soft and gentle as he smiles at you.

“You have no idea how much this all means to me.” You say, wiping at your eyes to conceal any possible tears from Tim.

“I’m just doing my job,” Tim says, shaking his head softly as you smile softly, your hand dropping back down to your lap. You and Tim then spend some time talking some more, and the more you talk, the more Tim knows he wants to foster you. He knew how it felt to constantly be let down by people you’re supposed to look up to so he wasn’t going to let himself be one of those people towards you. He wanted to make sure you knew you had at least one person on your side. After about half an hour of chatting with you, Tim noticed the time and realised he needed to head back to his to get ready for his interview with the foster agency.

“I’ve got to head out. If you need anything you have my number. Take care.” Tim says, getting up and excusing himself.

“Have a good day.” You say with a smile as Tim crosses to the door, making him smile back at you softly. He longed to tell you that he was putting himself forward to foster you but he also knew he didn’t want to get your hopes up, and then for everything to fall through. He wouldn’t be able to face you going back to a home after everything you had been through.

“I’ll see you around, kid,” Tim says softly before exiting your room, making his way out of the hospital so he can head home to prepare for the interview. When he got home, Tim showered and changed into some smarter clothes before rereading what to expect in his interview so he could be thoroughly prepared for any questions that could be thrown his way during the interview process as well as forwarding the reference Grey had written to the agency. As he finishes reading up the page, Tim puts his laptop away and makes his way out to his truck to begin the drive to the agency. The drive was silent, other than the rumble of the engine and the radio playing quietly. During the drive, Tim kept going over everything in his head to make sure he had solid, planned answers ready when he was questioned. When Tim finally arrived at the agency, he got out of his truck and made his way in, making sure to take one last deep breath before walking in and approaching the woman at the front desk.

“Hi, I’m Tim Bradford. I’m here for an interview about fostering.” Tim says once he reaches the desk, smiling at the woman as she nods and types something into the computer at her desk.

“Yep, you’re good to go and take a seat, Julia will be out shortly.” The woman says with a smile, gesturing towards the seats behind Tim as he nods, thanking her before heading over to a seat, sitting down in it and pulling his phone out of his pocket to pass the time until he’s called in for his interview.

“Tim Bradford?” A female voice draws Tim’s attention away from his phone and he looks up to see a woman with a soft smile who gestures him over.

“Hi.” Tim greets, smiling as he reaches out to shake the woman’s hand.

“Hello, Tim. I’m Julia. If you just follow me into my office we’ll get this interview started.” Julia says lightly, leading Tim back into her office. Entering the office, Julia takes a seat behind her desk while offering Tim a seat in front of the desk which he sits on, waiting for the interview to begin.

“So, Tim, what was it that made you want to start fostering?” Julia starts, pulling up the forms Tim had filled out on her computer, skimming them once more before focusing back on Tim.

“I got involved in a case at work where I helped out a kid and found out she was in a kid's home. I guess I wanted to be a positive adult figure in her life and fostering her would not only give her the support she needs, but it would get her out of that home.” Tim says, making sure he’s completely honest with Julia.

“It sounds like you already have someone in mind when it comes to fostering.” Julia muses softly, receiving a nod in return from Tim.

“Yeah, her name is y/n l/n. I found her injured yesterday at work and when I learnt the whole story I just knew that I couldn’t be another adult in her life who lets her down. She needs a stable and safe environment and I’d like to be the one who gives it to her.” Tim says, studying Julia’s reaction carefully, hoping he hasn’t tripped up so soon into the interview.

“That leads me nicely to my next topic. I’ve read your reference from your boss, Sergeant Grey. So, you’re in the LAPD. Do you think your job may have any effect on your ability to care for a child?” Julia then asks, looking from the computer to Tim who exhales softly, glancing down at his lap briefly before looking back up at Julia.

“I am very good at keeping my personal and work life separate. I only work overtime when truly necessary. I believe I’d be more than capable of looking after y/n.” Tim says, keeping his voice level and trying not to take her words as a personal attack. After about ten more minutes of questions and answers between the two of them, Julia leans back in her chair, looking over at Tim.

“Well, you have a steady income, glowing reference, and you seem very committed to the idea of fostering y/n so I can’t say you’re a bad candidate for fostering but I also cannot guarantee anything, you know how it is,” Julia says, smiling sympathetically at Tim as he nods, understanding that she was simply covering her bases. He knew that she wasn’t able to make promises in case things fell through, the same way he wasn’t allowed to promise victims that everything would be okay.

“I understand. But if there is any chance I can foster y/n, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” Tim says with a nod, hoping deep down that everything lined up perfectly and he’d get to foster you. As Julia got up from her desk, he conjured another plan in his head just moments before he stood up to shake her hand once more.

“It was lovely to meet you, Tim. We’ll be in contact with an update.” Julia says as she releases Tim’s hand, watching as he nods and thanks her before exiting her office, thanking the lady at the desk as he left, the second he left the building he dug his phone out of his pocket, finding Angela’s number and dialling it, lifting the phone to his ear as it began to ring.

“Who have you killed?” Angela jokes upon picking up the phone, making Tim roll his eyes.

“Hilarious. I just wanted to ask you something.” Tim says, beginning to walk over to his truck.

“Shoot,” Angela says, leaning back in her chair as she awaits Tim’s response.

“I was wondering if there’s any way Wesley might know how to help me get approved to foster a kid?” Tim says. Upon hearing Angela’s slight gasp, and the sound of her getting out of her chair to find some privacy, he began to wonder if it was worth asking her.

“Is this about that kid in the children’s home you were telling me about yesterday?” Angela asks in a hushed tone, clearly still making her way through the station.

“Yeah… but you can’t tell anyone. I just had my interview with an agency and while I know they can’t guarantee that I’ll get accepted as a foster carer, and they can’t guarantee I’ll get to foster y/n. I was just wondering if Wesley knows anyone who could help me out or something?” Tim tries, getting into his truck and settling behind the wheel while Angela ducks into the rec room.

“I can call Wesley to see what he can do. I’ll have him call you when he can.” Angela says, nodding despite knowing that Tim couldn’t see her.

“Thank you, Angela. I owe you one.” Tim says, a smile on his face.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Angela jokes before both she and Tim bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone. Upon ending the conversation, Tim puts his phone away and begins to drive back to his house, fingers lightly drumming against the wheel to ease the anxiety that begins to build up over the length of the drive. When he finally makes it home, he enters his house, gets changed into something comfier and heads to the living room to sit down on the sofa and encourages Kojo to come and sit with him, letting out the softest sigh as Kojo settles down across his lap, the weight helping to ease Tim’s anxieties and helps him relax. After almost half an hour of mindlessly scrolling through various tv channels, Tim’s phone buzzes and he picks it up after seeing Wesley’s name pop up on the screen.

“Wesley.” Tim greets, his empty hand reaching out to pet Kojo as a means to distract himself.

“Hey, Tim. Angela told me about what you asked. I have a contact who may be able to pull some strings but ultimately I can’t guarantee anything.” Wesley says, greeting Tim before getting to business.

“I understand that,” Tim says, nodding lightly at Wesley’s words.

“Between you and me, I think you stand a good chance at getting approved to foster her with the home under investigation.” Wesley then admits while Tim perks up slightly.

“You think?” Tim asks.

“I do. My colleague may be able to get you approved early so you can foster y/n while taking any necessary courses or training just on account of it getting her out of the home during the investigation.” Wesley says, a smile on his face.

“Wesley, I don’t know how to thank you.” Tim breathes out, grateful for how his friends were willing to help him out.

“I’m sure I’ll sure I’ll think of some way for you to repay me,” Wesley says with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair as he hears Tim let out a soft laugh of his own.

“I don’t expect anything less,” Tim replies.

“I’ll talk to my colleague and see what she can do. I’ll be in contact.” Wesley then says, bidding Tim goodbye before they both hang up, leaving Tim to continue blindly scrolling through tv channels, his anxiety now easing a little. After ten minutes of more channel surfing, Tim decides to take Kojo on another walk, just to get out of the house and of course, Kojo was over the moon with the idea of a second walk.

The second walk was longer, and Tim made sure to go to Kojo’s favourite places and spend extra time in the park playing fetch. The walk helped to clear Tim’s head, helping him feel more at ease and more hopeful that with Angela and Wesley’s help, things would work out in his favour. On his way back home, content that Kojo had been sufficiently exercised, Tim’s phone began to ring once more and upon seeing a number he didn’t recognise, he picked up.

“Hello?” Tim answers, taking in the scenery as Kojo sniffs around a tree.

“Hi, is this Tim Bradford?” A male voice on the other end of the phone asks, making Tim raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, it is.” He replies, beginning towards a nearby bench and sitting down on it while Kojo sits at his feet.

“I’m Frank. I’m the head of the local fostering agencies and I’m aware you had an interview with Julia earlier this afternoon. Is that correct?” The man introduces himself as Tim nods lightly.

“I did yes. Is everything okay?” Tim says, and he swears in that brief silence between him speaking and Frank replying, he could feel his throat get tighter, fearing the response he might get.

“So, normally we wouldn’t do something like this but we’ve been made aware of an investigation that’s beginning to happen on the children’s home y/n is in and since you were such a strong and committed candidate, we’ve decided to allow you to foster y/n,” Frank says, and Tim felt the ten-ton weight lift off his shoulders at his words.

“Really?” Tim asks, part of him wondering if this was some elaborate trick.

“Really. Of course, we request that you complete some training but we will allow you to look after y/n to keep her away from the ongoing investigation but I imagine detectives would want to get statements from her if needed.” Frank explains, making Tim nod as he takes in every word.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” Tim promises, already sitting up straighter on the bench.

“That’s what we like to hear. All we need from you right now is for you to come back to the agency and fill out some paperwork for us. We contacted the hospital and they’ve let us know that y/n is cleared to be released from the hospital’s care tomorrow so you have today to prepare for y/n’s arrival. Is that okay?” Frank then says as Tim begins to stand up, walking with Kojo towards his house.

“That’s fine. Thank you.” Tim says, a small smile on his face.

“Good. You’ll also meet y/n’s case worker, Kiara while you’re there. She’ll be there to help you and y/n through this whole process.” Frank then says, giving Tim the last bit of information he needed.

“Thank you so much for all this,” Tim says gratefully, bidding Frank goodbye and hanging up the phone before hurrying back home. The second he gets home, Tim gets Kojo in the house, before heading to his truck and driving back to the agency.

When Tim reaches the agency, he’s greeted by the same woman at the front desk who points him to Julia’s office, telling him they’re waiting for him. So Tim does as he’s told, heading to the office he had been in mere hours before, knocking on the door lightly and entering upon being called in.

“Tim, just the man we were talking about,” Julia says with a smile, gesturing Tim in when she sees him. Tim enters the office, noticing the second woman who he could only assume was Kiara as he sat down on the spare chair that was offered to him.

“I’m Kiara, y/n’s case worker. It’s lovely to meet you.” The second woman confirms Tim’s thoughts as she offers a hand to him and he’s quick to shake her hand in response.

“I’m Tim. But I’m sure you already knew that.” Tim says with a soft chuckle as he settles down in the chair.

“As you know, you’ve got some paperwork to go through with you so let’s get on with that first,” Julia says, pulling paperwork out of one of her files and handing them over to Tim with a clipboard so he can read them over and sign where appropriate once they’ve talked things over. As Tim reads the paperwork over, Julia and Kiara talk him through various parts of everything, making sure he’s clear on everything being your foster parent entails, as well as being told that Kiara was going to swing by his house to do a quick check to make sure he lived in a suitable environment for you. After signing everything and being thoroughly briefed on all the ins and outs of being a foster parent, Tim was finally given the okay to leave the office and he left with Kiara walking alongside him.

“I’ll just follow behind you if that’s okay?” She asks as they exit the building, watching as Tim nods, digging his keys out of his pocket before heading over to his truck while Kiara heads over to her Mini. The drive back to his house had Tim’s anxiety digging in once more as he thought of all the worst-case scenarios that ran through his head. He knew he had no reason for Kiara to not approve him and his house as a suitable place for you to live but he could not help but think of how things could go wrong. Would Kojo throw her off? Would the fact he carries an off-duty weapon be a problem? He tried so hard to focus on the positives but by the time both he and Kiara had parked outside his house, he had convinced himself that everything was going to crash and burn. Tim unlocked his front door and stepped in, causing Kojo to come trotting over to him happily.

“Kojo, sit,” Tim commands, pointing at Kojo who obeys Tim’s command, head tilted slightly as Kiara enters behind Tim.

“You have a dog? Can I say hi?” Kiara asks with a soft smile as Tim nods.

“Kojo, come here boy,” Tim says and Kojo immediately got up and approached the two, sniffing Kiara’s outstretched hand and panting happily as she began to pet him.

“He’s lovely.” Kiara praises.

“He looks tough but he’s a big softie,” Tim admits with a gentle laugh, watching as Kojo flops onto his side for more attention.

“Well, you’re off to a good start with how well-trained Kojo is,” Kiara says as she straightens up, beginning to make her way around the house looking at everything in and around each room while Kojo follows behind her happily. Tim can’t bring himself to follow her at first, feeling rooted in place with how out of control he is in this whole scenario. After a deep breath, Tim then follows after Kiara, listening carefully to all her comments about his house.

“I know you’re a police officer so I have to ask, do you have any firearms in your house?” Kiara asks, no malice in her tone but Tim knew he wouldn’t benefit from lying.

“Yes, I carry an off-duty piece. But I lock it away when I’m not using it and I’d never encourage y/n to use it or even be near it.” Tim explains, leading Kiara to the safe he has hidden away in his bedroom and showing her the handgun he has. As he locks it back away, Tim looks over at Kiara to try and gauge her reaction but Kiara appears to be the best when it comes to having a neutral expression. By the time Kiara had done a full tour of the house, Tim had somehow convinced himself that he’d screwed the whole thing up. As he walked Kiara to the front door, she turned to face him and smiled softly.

“Your house is perfect. y/n will have a great home here.” Kiara says as Tim tries not to let his jaw drop in shock.

“Thank you so much.” He says, feeling like he’s thanked people enough for a lifetime in one day but he had to let people know how grateful he was for their help throughout this whole process. After Kiara leaves, Tim turns his attention to his phone, aware of the text he had received while he was showing Kiara around the house. He found a text from Wesley, saying he had contacted his colleague so Tim replied saying that Wesley’s colleague had helped out a lot and so he thanked Wesley and asked him to pass Tim’s thanks on to his colleague. By the time night fell Tim was lying in his bed wrestling with his conflicting emotions. He was filled with both excitement and anxiety knowing that in a mere few hours, he’d be picking you up from the hospital and officially become your foster parent.

By the morning, Tim was sure he’d only gotten a couple of hours of sleep and that Kojo was fed up with how much he’d been tossing and turning throughout the night. Tim got out of bed after Kojo all but nudged him up, showered and changed before taking Kojo on a morning walk to stretch his legs. Tim had organised a time to meet with Kiara at the hospital to pick you up after informing Grey that he needed another personal day, thankfully Grey was understanding and gave him the rest of the week off so he could help you settle into your new home and routine. So Tim wanted to spend his morning setting up your room and ensuring the house felt as homely as possible ready for your arrival with the time he had.

Once Tim had organised your room, doing the best he could with what he had, he noted the time and realised he needed to begin heading over to the hospital. So he grabbed a jacket and made his way to the front door, stopping to talk to Kojo when he noticed him lying on the floor in the hall.

“Be good, Kojo. I’ll be back soon.” Tim says, petting Kojo on the head as he grabs his keys and makes his way to the front door, heading outside and getting into his truck to drive over to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, Tim met with Kiara in the waiting room of the ward you were in.

“Hello, Tim.” She greets Tim with a smile, approaching him as he meets her halfway.

“Hi,” Tim replies, noticing the bag in Kiara’s hand.

“I went by to collect y/n’s things, she’s getting changed now. A nurse will grab us when she’s ready.” Kiara explains, not missing how Tim had been looking at the bag. At her explanation, Tim nods.

“Does she know I’m fostering her?” Tim then asks, already worrying about your hypothetical reaction to the news.

“I haven’t told her yet. I figured you could be the one to tell her.” Kiara says. As if cued, a nurse enters the waiting room and approaches the two.

“y/n is ready.” The nurse says with a gentle smile, gesturing for them to follow her which they do, heading into the room Tim had become very familiar with.

“Hi Kiara, I’m ready t-” You said, back facing them as you begrudgingly turned around, cutting yourself off when you realised Tim was also present.

“Hey, kid,” Tim says softly, smiling as you mirror his smile with one of your own.

“What’s going on?” You ask, glancing between Tim and Kiara who in turn exchange a look between themselves.

“We have some exciting news.” Kiara starts, both her and Tim watching as your eyebrows furrow in thought.

“I have decided to foster you. If that’s okay with you, of course.” Tim says, watching your reaction carefully, seeing how your eyebrows furrow further before you process his words and your jaw drops in shock, tears filling your eyes.

“Really?” You ask, looking up at Tim who nods lightly at your question.

“If that’s something you want,” Tim affirms and you fall quiet for a brief second, taking a deep breath before speaking up once more.

“Can I hug you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course, come here,” Tim says, extending an arm towards you and you were quick to accept the embrace, winding your arms around his middle and hugging Tim tight. Tim felt your shuddered breaths as you hugged him, making him hold you a little closer.

“Thank you.” You whisper softly, your voice thick with unshed tears.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Tim replies in a hushed tone, squeezing you tighter before releasing you from the hug, allowing you to step back.

“Well with that good news out in the open. Are you ready to get out of here?” Kiara asks, watching as you wipe your eyes with a nod, smiling wider than Kiara has ever seen from you before.

“More than ready.” You say as Kiara hands the bag of your belongings to Tim and gestures for you and Tim to follow her once the nurse has gone over some final healthcare things with you and Tim.

“I went and collected all your stuff from the home so you should have everything. Now all that’s left for you to do is head home with Tim. I will swing by every so often just to check up on you both but I’ll let you have a few days to settle in.” Kiara explains as you make your way through the hospital, heading towards the car park.

“That sounds like a plan. Thank you for everything, Kiara.” Tim says, stopping in front of his truck with you and Kiara mimicking his action.

“It’s been a pleasure. Take care, y/n.” Kiara says, giving you a quick hug in goodbye before making her way back to her own car, leaving you and Tim alone.

“Here, hop in,” Tim says, opening the passenger side door and waiting patiently for you to ease yourself into the truck. Once you’re sat down, Tim closes the door and loads your bag into the back seats, rounding the truck and getting behind the wheel. On the drive back to Tim’s house you maintained some small talk as you watched the world passing you by. You were seeing areas of Los Angeles that you had never seen before and before too long had passed, Tim was parking on the drive to your new home.

“I have a quick question before we head in. Are you okay with dogs?” Tim asks after shutting the engine off, turning in his seat to face you.

“I’ve never really been around any dogs. The only ones around the children’s home were people’s guard dogs so they weren’t very friendly.” You explain shyly, fiddling with your fingers as you think of the dogs that would snarl and bark at you every time you dared walk past their house.

“I promise, Kojo is as gentle as they come. He’s all bark no bite. Tell you what, I’ll head in first, put Kojo in my room so he’s out of the way while you settle in. When you’re ready we can handle introductions. Does that sound good?” Tim says, explaining the plan he had formulated in his head and you nod.

“Okay, that sounds fine.” You say quietly, unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the truck while Tim does the same. You wait patiently for Tim to grab your bag before following him to the front door.

“You stay out here for a minute while I sort out Kojo, I’ll let you know when to come in,” Tim says as he unlocks the front door and you nod, sure you could hear the tapping of claws on the other side of the door. Tim opens the door enough to squeeze through the gap and closes the door behind him, smiling as Kojo approaches, sniffing at his legs curiously.

“Sorry about this buddy, it’s just for a few minutes.” Tim apologises to his dog, gently taking hold of Kojo’s collar and leading him towards his bedroom, opening the door and encouraging Kojo inside, closing the door before he can turn around and rush back out. With Kojo securely tucked away in one room, Tim makes his way back to the front door, opening it and smiling at you.

“Come on in.” He says, picking up your bag and gesturing for you to follow him into the house.

“Wow, this is gorgeous.” You say, awestruck by the house and everything in it.

“It’s not much,” Tim says with a light shrug, making you laugh lightly.

“Here’s better than the home I’ve grown up in.” You say truthfully, making Tim nod lightly as he stops outside your room.

“This is your room. I’m sorry it’s a bit bare but you’re free to decorate it how you want.” Tim says as he opens the door, stepping back to let you take in your new room. You couldn’t stop the tears from welling in your eyes at the sight of the room. Tim wasn’t lying, the room didn’t have much in the way of decorations, and the bedding and walls were all plain white but the idea of getting to make the room your own safe space made you emotional in ways you couldn’t describe.

“This is amazing. I can’t thank you enough Tim.” You say gratefully, taking the bag from Tim’s hand and heading into your room. You place your bag on the end of your bed and take in the beauty of your room. After exploring your room, you then head back out into the rest of the house, pausing when you hear the light scratching of claws against wood.

“Sorry, he’s used to having run of the house.” Tim apologises, noticing how you had paused in place, looking in the direction of Tim’s bedroom.

“No, I’m sorry. I feel bad he’s been locked away just because I’m not used to dogs.” You apologise, feeling bad for Kojo.

“He’ll live, trust me,” Tim says softly.

“Can I meet him? I’ll feel bad keeping him locked away any longer.” You ask, looking up at Tim who nods lightly.

“Only if you’re sure,” Tim asks, watching as you nod.

“I’m sure.” You confirm, making Tim look towards the door.

“You go and settle in the living room. I’ll bring Kojo through.” Tim says, watching you head towards the living room before he opens his bedroom door, immediately catching Kojo by the collar as he attempts to escape the bedroom.

“Whoa there. You need to be a bit calmer.” Tim lightly scolds his dog, carefully leading him to the living room where you are waiting. Tim enters the living room slowly, keeping a firm hand on Kojo to keep him under control.

“y/n, this is Kojo. Kojo, this is y/n.” Tim says, introducing you to Kojo and vice versa.

“Hi, Kojo. You’re really cute.” You say softly, reaching a careful hand out towards him, letting him sniff at your hand from a distance. After Kojo had sniffed at your hand, Tim slowly relinquished his hold on Kojo’s collar, allowing him to step closer to you. Kojo continues to sniff at you, gently licking at one of your hands while your other begins to pet him, bringing a smile to your face.

“I think he likes you,” Tim says, smiling at the interaction between you and Kojo.

“He’s so sweet.” You say quietly, scratching Kojo behind the ear as he pants happily, as he sits down in between your legs. After a few minutes of hanging out with Kojo, Tim decides to offer to help you unpack and settle in and you take him up on his offer, heading back to your room, this time with Kojo accompanying you. You go through your bag, chatting with Tim as you unpack everything. As Tim was putting a jacket of yours away in the wardrobe, he caught sight of you digging through your bag, a panicked expression on your face.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tim asks, turning to face you.

“I can’t find something.” You reply, barely giving Tim any attention as you continue to turf things out of your bag, tears welling in your eyes when you empty the rest of your bag and realise that one precious item is missing.

“What is it?” Tim asks, picking his way through the clothes you’d thrown across your bed to see if what you were looking for had somehow gotten lost in the middle of your t-shirts.

“I… I had a stuffed animal. A small sheep. I’ve had him since I was little and a friend I had gave him to me when she got reunited with her parents. Kiara wouldn’t have known I had him because I hid him in my room so the other kids wouldn’t find him.” You explain, panicked as tears well in your eyes.

“Hey, don’t panic. Tell me where you hid him and I’ll go and get him.” Tim says, gently taking you by the shoulders, and helping you maintain control over your panicked breaths.

“You’d do that?” You ask quietly and your voice thick with tears.

“Of course, I would. If this sheep is important to you I’ll go find him and bring him back here.” Tim says softly, hating the heartbroken and terrified look in your eyes. He could tell this stuffed animal meant the world to you and he was going to get it back for you.

“Thank you.” You whisper, smiling at Tim while wiping at your eyes.

“No problem, kid. Now, tell me where you hid him and I’ll get him back.” Tim says, waiting patiently for you to tell him where you had hidden the teddy. Once you’ve told Tim exactly where you’d hidden it, Tim tells you to stay with Kojo, making his way to his room, grabbing his off-duty piece just in case Stan tried to give him any grief, before making his way out to his truck and driving over to the children’s home. When he pulled up outside the home, he barely had time to pull his keys out of the engine with the speed he was getting out of the truck. He marched up to the front door and pounded on it, waiting for Stan to open the door.

“What do you want? You’ve caused enough trouble around here.” Stan snarls as he opens the door, recognising Tim instantly.

“I’m just here to pick up something that Kiara didn’t pick up when she was getting y/n’s stuff,” Tim says, holding his hands up slightly to show he wasn’t here to pick a fight.

“You’ve gone and put this home under investigation. I could lose my job and it’s all your fucking fault! I should teach you a lesson.” Stan swears angrily, stepping closer to Tim in an attempt to intimidate him.

“Try anything and I’ll have you locked away so fast you’ll never get to see this home close down,” Tim growls in response, his low tone and narrowed eyes enough to get Stan to step back, all attempt at intimidation now thrown out the window as he allows Tim to push past, heading upstairs to the room you had said was yours. He opened the door, heading straight for where you had said you’d hidden the sheep teddy. Thankfully, Tim had very little trouble finding the sheep.

“Let’s get you reunited with y/n,” Tim whispers to the small plush sheep before tucking it away in his hoodie pocket, making his way downstairs, making sure to shoot a warning glare Stan’s way to keep him away before heading to his truck and making the drive back home. When Tim arrived home, he found you curled up on the sofa with Kojo curled against your side.

“Did you find him?” You ask, perking up when you notice Tim’s arrival. Tim nodded with a smile, pulling the sheep out of his pocket and handing it over to you as you took it gratefully, holding it close to your chest as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much, Tim.” You say gratefully, smiling over at him which he returns.

“You’re welcome y/n,” Tim replies, moving to sit alongside you and Kojo. You spend the rest of the day lounging on the sofa with Tim, getting to know each other more. After having a takeaway for dinner, you stand up and stretch, glancing over at Tim.

“Can I use the shower?” You ask, studying Tim’s reaction carefully.

“Of course, you can. You don’t need to ask.” Tim says softly, watching as you nod slightly, heading for your room to get ready for your shower before disappearing into the bathroom.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Tim caught sight of you padding across the hall, shivering violently as you tugged your hoodie over your pyjama shirt.

“Woah, are you okay? Are you coming down with something?” Tim asks, already jumping to the worst-case scenario at how violently you were shivering.

“No, I’m fine. I just didn’t realise how cold your shower could get.” You say with a shrug as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“I should’ve shown you how it works, I’m sorry.” Tim apologises, silently scolding himself for failing to show you how the shower worked.

“No, it’s fine. I know I’m not supposed to use the hot water anyway.” You say with a small smile, making Tim’s head tilt slightly in confusion.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tim asks, wanting to know why you had assumed such a thing.

“Stan always said that us kids weren’t supposed to use hot water.” You shrug, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and warm yourself up more.

“Okay, that rule doesn’t fly in here. You want a hot shower? You take a hot shower. You don’t have to worry about whether you’re allowed to use hot water because you will always be allowed to use it.” Tim explains, watching your reaction carefully, seeing how your head dipped, nodding shyly at his words.

“Thank you. And I’m sorry.” You apologise, making Tim feel like his heart is cracking in two.

“You have nothing to apologise for. It’s not your fault Stan is an asshole.” Tim says, resting a hand on one of your shoulders, smiling supportively at you as you lift your head to meet his gaze, shyly smiling in response as you nod lightly before a yawn spills past your lips.

“Sounds like you should get to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.” Tim says softly, releasing the light grip he had on your shoulder and watching as you head into your room with Kojo hot on your heels before making his rounds, ensuring all the doors were locked and the lights were off before retiring to bed himself.

Almost two hours after you had gone to bed you found yourself unable to sleep. You kept tossing and turning, finding the bed much too comfortable compared to what you were accustomed to. After Kojo let out a huff after what felt like your thousandth shuffle in bed you finally got up, grabbing your sheep teddy and a blanket before making your way to the living room with Kojo following behind once more.

Tim stirred at the sound of footsteps throughout the house and sat bolt upright, listening carefully to try and identify whether the footsteps belonged to you or an intruder. After a minute of listening, Tim identified the sound of Kojo’s claws tapping across the floor and felt himself relaxing, knowing it had to be you moving around with how Kojo wasn’t barking. After the house fell silent again, Tim decided to get up to check on you, worried about how he hadn’t heard you heading back to your room and he soon tracked you down, finding you lying down on the sofa, covering yourself with the blanket and using one of the cushions as a pillow with the small lamp on nearby.

“Are you okay, kid?” Tim’s voice made you jump at first, but you soon settled down when you realised it was only Tim, and Kojo settled down, his head resting on your stomach.

“Sorry the bed was ju-”

“It was too comfortable, wasn’t it?” Tim says softly, cutting you off as he crosses to sit down on the edge of the sofa.

“How did you know?” You ask, bewildered that Tim had figured it out so quickly.

“I served in the Army and did a few tours. Coming home after each one was the hardest adjustment period. And somehow the bed being too comfortable was the worst one. So trust me, I get it.” Tim says, letting you know that he understood and that he wouldn’t judge you.

“I’m just too used to the rock-solid mattresses at the home.” You say with a shrug, reaching out to pet Kojo after he noses at your hand for attention.

“If sleeping on the sofa makes you more comfortable for now. Then you can sleep on the sofa. Do what makes you feel most comfortable right now.” Tim assures you quietly, seeing how the gentle reassurance has made you feel more at ease.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, smiling at Tim as he nods.

“You’re welcome, y/n. I’m going to head back to bed but come and get me if you need anything. I’m sure Kojo will look after you.” Tim says, petting Kojo lightly before getting up, bidding you goodnight and exiting the living room to head back to his own room for the night. After Tim left, you turned the lamp off and laid back against the sofa, hand still stroking Kojo gently as you allowed your eyes to close. You had finally found a home, and it made you feel the safest you have ever felt in your whole life. And that was all thanks to Tim.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #the rookie #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x teen!reader #x teen!reader

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apeachty · 1 month ago

Text

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀wild roses | chapter 1 ; the roots

⠀⠀⠀neighbour!yeonjun x fem!reader

♡ you're here ♡ | to chapter 2 →

genre ; soulmate au, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, humour, smut wordcount ; 17.5k

warnings | tags ; unhealthy relationship with pain [mentions of self-inflicted pain]; yeonjun does some kinda questionable stuff; a bit of self-hate and self-pity.

smut warnings ; dom + soft sadist yeonjun x sub + soft masochist reader. wet dreams, heavily based on pain kink [choking, marking, spanking and so on]; male masturbation.

✉ notes ; oh wow... my first collaboration event ever and it was AWESOME. the idea was just incredible and i'm honoured to be a part of the event and write for the idea. i want to thank each one of beautiful talented moa who took part in the event, please-please-please, read other event fics, all of them are wonderful

i got a tiny bit carried away, so there are going to be two more parts. that just... happened. i was possesed

⠀⠀⠀[ event masterlist | my masterlist | wild roses masterlist ]

it felt like a cruel joke of fate, destiny, the universe or whatever force might be pulling the strings of your life. you were sure you could post an advertisement for your services—“spend a few days with me and find your soulmate. 100% guarantee”, because yet another one of your colleagues had returned from her vacation particularly glowing—she had met her, her soulmate, the one she had been waiting for her whole life.

she couldn't keep quiet about it, and you couldn't blame her, despite the tiny, bitter part of your mind whispering that you were a lucky charm for everyone else, leaving yourself with nothing but emptiness and heartbreak. you'd only been working here for a year, and four of your colleagues had found their soulmates before your very eyes—five, including the one who had announced it today—and each time, the quiet whispers of pity behind your back only grew louder. of course, you heard the hushed “shh, don't be so loud” that meant to show care—you had stopped paying attention to it long ago.

the bond you had once shared with your soulmate was a complicated one, tangled in endless conditions and rules, most of them uncertain, suspended between truth and myth. it had already felt impossible to navigate it, while you still had it, but now, when it was broken for years, finding them felt like a distant dream. you weren't even sure if they were still alive, if you were being honest, but thinking about it unsettled you to the point of near-physical pain, so you chose not to think about them at all.

your mind sometimes thought differently, though, keeping you awake until early morning and haunting you with visions of you staying alone until your last days. on those days you’d find yourself deleting your browser history in shame and embarrassment on your way to work—“would you know if your soulmate had died”, “is it possible to get another soulmate”, “is it possible to have more than one soulmate”, “wild rose bond”. you hated those nights and the days that followed, because your brain wouldn't stop overanalyzing everything you'd read, twisting every possibility into something even more unbearable—hope.

but more than anything, you feared returning to the dark months after you had felt your soulmate for the last time. looking back, you wondered if their heartbreak had somehow resonated with your own—the one that had started just a few hours before. you had felt a faint sensation of nails dragging down your back from your shoulder blades, as if someone was scratching at your skin with their nails, but it wasn't your back, it was their back. you had thought you were devastated then, but a few hours later, when the real weight of it hit, you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore, and it wasn't your pain.

all of it plunged you into what was probably the darkest period of your life, making you realize how truly ugly your bond was, because it was either an endless cycle of intensifying pain—feeding off your soulmate’s suffering and giving it right back to them until it returned to you—or nothing at all. and when you woke up empty, feeling nothing foreign that had become an important part of you over the years, it was as if you had lost the constant touch of a lover. even if that touch had only ever caused pain, you still tried to get it back.

you didn't know if you were trying to get your soulmate to respond to you, or if, in some twisted way, you were just to mimic the pain they had once caused you—desperate for anything that might keep you from feeling so utterly alone. but it never worked—they never replied and you never felt any relief.

and now you felt yourself slowly sinking into that darkness again—the more happy stories told behind your back you heard, the stronger the itch in your fingers became. what if—just a tiny what if—they would reply to you if you pinched your arm just a little? what if they pinched back? what if you could finally do something you had wished for years you had done earlier—agree to meet somewhere through morse code? the sickening feeling of hope was so much worse than that mutual heartbreak had ever been.

you shook your head—no. the “unbreakable bond” that was supposed to never fade—not by time, not even by death—was broken, and the was nothing you could do about it. maybe some people were simply meant to stay alone, and maybe you were one of them. so what? surely, you weren't the only unlucky one like that, there was no way everyone in this world had a person they were destined to live and die with. after all, you could be your own soulmate—at least that bond would never shatter.

the overly confident thoughts, which felt more like bravado than anything sincere even to you, took up all your attention, and you reached out for your coffee cup, completely forgetting it was still too hot. the burn on the pads of your fingers made you wince, a quiet "shit" slipping past your lips—all these existential crisis thoughts, that were creeping in more and more often recently, were making you a bit too careless, and that was a dangerous match to the way you were starting to perceive pain. again.

“you okay?”

you looked up at soobin—another one of your colleagues, but not annoying one— and pressed your lips into a thin line. “i’m fine. please don’t join them in looking at me like i need pity, i beg you.”

he smiled and shook his head. “wasn’t going to. you’re overthinking it, you know?” he glanced over your shoulder at the suddenly quiet, happy circle before returning his gaze to you. “well… you’re overthinking my behavior, i guess…”

you sighed—of course. “they’re looking, aren’t they?” he replied with a tiny nod, making you bury your face in your hands. “with pity?” you mumbled, your words muffled.

“yeah…” he admitted, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. he wasn’t one to enjoy much attention, but sitting across from you left him no choice when their conversations inevitably turned to soulmates. “hey,” he tried to get your attention, holding out his paper cup to you over both of your monitors. “it’s the same as yours, but not as hot anymore. haven’t drunk it either.”

the man was a savior sometimes. you took his cup, giving him yours. “thanks. what would i do without you?”

“drown in pity gazes and whispers?”

you laughed. “most probably.”

he smiled at you, glad that your face was no longer painted with ridiculously funny determination he knew you faked—trying to make yourself believe it—and got back to work, mirroring you.

but you had trouble focusing on your work anyway, and the worst part was your boss, who kept throwing worried glances at you whenever he passed by—it felt like a few more found soulmates in your branch, and he'd start asking if you wanted to take a day off or work from home for a few days whenever someone said. after all, whenever someone announced—because it was impossible to keep it inside—that they had found their soulmate, he always reacted the same way.

you already had the ick from the word—soulmates this, soulmates that. all those “don't worry, you're still young” reassurances coming from people you had met maybe three times in your life while making yourself a coffee in the office kitchen. it wasn't even about your age—though there were countless depressing myths about soulmates and age, especially when it came to wild roses—it was about the nature of the bond itself that made people pity you.

you had no idea why in the world they cared about their colleague—nothing more!—finding or not finding their soulmate. and worse, you'd never told anyone about your lack of one, nor about what kind of bond you had. yet, somehow, someone must have seen your mark—which wasn't too hard to notice, but the situation had to be very specific for anyone to actually see it—and now people knew about it before they had even met you, the rumours about you entering the room first.

as if that wasn’t bad enough, at some point, they started matchmaking you with any soulmate-less new colleague. you were still sure those glances at you interacting with soobin meant something, just because he didn’t have a soulmate either. it was funny how they barely cared that he wasn't a wild rose—and you didn't even question how they never seemed to care about what the two of you actually thought of it, just being two introverts in an office full of extroverts.

but soobin was nice enough not to care about it and was basically the only person here you talked to about something other than work, and you were thankful he was there for you without trying to assure you that you were still young and that your soulmate was still out there somewhere. he knew everything that had happened around your bond and understood that wild roses didn’t have it easy, so he never bothered you by feeding the hope you kept buried deep inside.

“you know…” soobin started while you two were packing up to go home—you both started your workdays half an hour later than everyone else, meaning you stayed half an hour after everyone left, which was basically the reason for shifting your work hours in the first place. “i haven’t met my soulmate either, and…”

you shook your head, giving him that ‘are you serious?’ look. “soob, don’t start. you haven’t met them because you either work or play league.”

soobin laughed, nodding. “you’re right. but i just wanted to say that soulmate or no soulmate, it doesn’t define you—or anyone—as a person,” he smiled reassuringly, grabbing both of your jackets and handing you yours. “you’re perfectly complete without someone who was chosen for you by something unknown.”

you nodded, biting your lip and fidgeting with the pull on your jacket. he always knew what to say, and it was always sincere—probably, because he was in the same situation as you, but with a completely different perspective on it. soobin seemed much more mature than you could even hope to be. no—you pushed these thoughts away. you weren’t going to pity yourself. he was right—it made no sense.

“thanks, soob. you always know the right words.”

he smiled. “i could say i’ve been there, but i think they bother me much less about not having a soulmate,” he scratched the back of his head in thought. “male advantage?” he assumed, and you both laughed—maybe it really was male advantage. “keep you company on your way home?”

you shook your head, checking the time. “you won’t be home by seven if you do,” you patted his shoulder, and he tilted his head in question. “it’s thursday. your league-i-promise-she-is-just-a-friend will be waiting for you,” you sing-songed, making him press his lips together in an attempt to hide his smile—a failing attempt—and you couldn’t help but mirror it.

soobin opened his mouth to tell you something, but it seemed like every thought he had about his “just friend” only made his smile grow bigger and harder to hide, so in the end he just shook his head with a shy but obviously happy smile. “okay. you sure you'll be fine?”

you nodded, giving him a quick goodbye hug. “completely. be safe too. and don't stay up too late!” you waved before turning around. soobin was a nice guy and deserved all the happiness in the world—you hoped things with his “just friend” would work out, whether she was his soulmate or not.

still, your head felt like a too-crowded beehive, a dozen thoughts overlapping each other, refusing to let you focus on any of them before stealing your attention away to another. you had a bond when you were younger. yes, now it was a distant memory that felt more like a dream—you weren’t even sure you would recall how it felt to experience someone else’s pain or discomfort, but you refused to believe you’d been imagining it for almost ten years of your life, ever since you first understood that some feelings weren’t caused by yourself.

and that connection… it was supposed to be unbreakable, because it was one of the strongest bonds between soulmates—it was based on pain. you could never stop experiencing it, even if it happened rarely, you would still burn your tongue on tea from time to time or hit your elbow in just that spot, and your soulmate would feel it, just as you would feel their pain—there was no way to break it. that’s what you thought, at least—before it was broken.

these thoughts kept looping in your head, all the information you had read about the bond between wild roses throughout your life swirling in your mind, as if you hadn’t already gone over it hundreds of times, trying to find something you had overlooked—something that could solve the problem you had. but that kind of connection was surrounded by chaos of myths, assumptions, and lies from people pretending to be wild roses. you could never know what was true unless you experienced it yourself and, preferably, discussed it with the other end of the bond.

and you weren’t even sure of what you had gone through yourself, because you had no idea what your soulmate had done for you to mirror their pain more intensely. it was believed that the strength of the pain you felt from your soulmate grew with distance, and you assumed that, a few years before the heartbreak and the breaking of your connection, they had moved far away from where you were—probably another side of the world. the faint touch of guitar strings on the tips of your fingers had become cruel, invisible marks and calluses, awakening a habit of scratching the pads of your fingers with your nails, trying to get rid of the sensation. the habit stayed—but because you missed the way it felt now.

the quiet ding of the elevator pulled you out of your thoughts, even through your earbuds. you opened the case, carefully placing each one inside while waiting for the doors to open, and your soul almost left your body when they did, hand flying to your chest to calm your racing heart—a man was sitting on the floor, headphones on his head, too immersed in something on his phone to notice you.

you knew the man—he was your neighbour, but you had never really talked to him, so you weren’t exactly sure how to get his attention, especially since he was wearing headphones. so you stood in front of him like a complete weirdo, looking down at him, your brain still not fully functioning after a busy workday that was made worse by your overthinking.

but you didn’t have to do anything—he noticed you almost immediately, looking up and quickly standing, pushing his headphones down to his neck. “oh! hey. don’t be freaked out, please,” he said, holding out his hand for a handshake. you hesitantly took it, shaking uncertainly—his hand felt… nice. “i’m your neighbour from—”

“apartment 139, yeah…,” you finished for him slowly, your hand still in his, now just held. “just across the hall. i see you sometimes, but you never greet back, always wearing headphones,” you shrugged—it wasn’t a big deal. he never seemed rude, more like he was always in his head, his hands and head making little weird moves, so you assumed he was dancing to the music in his headphones, the outside world forgotten.

“oh…” he pulled his hand away and ran his fingers through his hair. “i’m sorry. i tend to get too into my work sometimes, not noticing anything or anyone around.”

you shrugged again, pulling your keys from your pocket, the bunch of keychains jingling softly. “it’s fine. just be careful on the streets. sometimes drivers are…” you scrunched your nose, and he chuckled. “reckless? some make me wonder if anyone can just go and buy a driver’s license now, without even graduating from elementary school, where they give you basic knowledge on traffic rules.”

he looked at you with an amused smile, and you mentally slapped yourself—it was your first conversation, and you were already burdening him with the grumpiness of a ninety-year-old lady no one liked. no wonder your soulmate had broken the bond even before meeting you, the thought made you smile mentally despite how bitter it actually was—it was a good joke. you made a note to repeat it to soobin tomorrow when telling him about encountering your neighbour.

but he only laughed, nodding a few times. “i see where you’re coming from. you can never be too careful when it comes to traffic,” he adjusted his headphones, turning them to rest on his collarbones with the ear pads facing in, and your gaze fell to the bare skin of his upper chest for a brief moment, making you involuntarily touch the tight collar of your t-shirt.

“so…” you fidgeted with the strap of your bag nervously—small talk was nice and, dare you to say, comfortable, especially considering you'd never talked to him before, but he couldn't be sitting here for no reason, could he? “what happened?.. i mean, why were you sitting here?”

“oh! right,” he cleared throat. “i lost my keys. i was going to call for locksmith services, but i don't want to lockpick the door to the corridor,” he paused, because it suddenly started sounding stupid, but shook his head—too late to rethink it now. “so i was waiting for someone to open it.”

you nodded a few times, and he let out a breath—at least you weren't looking at him like he was a complete idiot, and he certainly felt like one. you simply took the key and opened the door to the corridor, letting him in before locking it behind you—he thought that he probably should've been nicer to you instead of just giving a tiny nod as a greeting once every few weeks, which, as it turned out, you didn’t even notice.

he dialed the locksmith service, throwing glances at you as you unlocked your door. he noticed you pause, your key still in the lock, fingers rubbing it nervously as you stared at it, seemingly lost in thought. he wanted to ask you if everything was okay, but the moment he opened his mouth, a man on the other end of the phone line introduced himself and asked how he could help.

you glanced at your neighbour as he turned away, still on his phone, his hand rubbing the back of his head. eavesdropping wasn’t good, but you wondered—if the locksmith was going to take some time to arrive, maybe he’d need a place to wait? you could invite him in… he seemed like a nice person, so— you shook your head, he’d probably prefer to wait at the convenience store across the street. with that, you pulled the key out and opened the door.

“at least half an hour?” he asked, checking the watch before chuckled. “of course. not like i have any other choice,” he listened to whatever the person on the other end was saying before nodding. “yes, five minutes is fine. thank you,” the ‘beep’ of the ended call was almost loud in the empty corridor as he turned to look at you, still standing by your ajar door. “thank you. really,” he smiled warmly. “i’m yeonjun, by the way. it was nice to meet you.”

“[ yn ]...” you replied quietly, still debating whether you should invite him in—half an hour seemed long, but then again, sometimes waiting for an elevator to arrive could take five whole minutes. if he was unlucky, he’d only have time to buy something at the convenience store before having to come right back. no, you thought. don’t be stupid. “it was nice to meet you too,” you almost shut your front door when you realized how much of an idiot you were—just a few minutes ago you basically locked him in the corridor. “wait.”

“huh?” yeonjun looked up from his phone, confused. ‘wait’ for what?.. not like he had anywhere to go right now.

you grabbed the spare key to the corridor door from the key rack and walked up to him, holding it out. “here. you lost yours, and i have a spare one, so you can take it,” you felt so stupid, but it was too late to back out now. “for now or til you get a new one or… or you can keep it,” you finished quietly, each word sounding worse than the last.

yeonjun smiled and shook his head. “i have another one at home, don’t worry. i won’t need it until then anyway, i was going to wait here.”

you pressed your lips together, cheeks burning, before asking quietly. “how would a locksmith get inside here?..”

yeonjun froze. he hadn’t thought about it at all. it was almost funny—how he, the one who had that confident, almost intimidating aura, had somehow managed to make himself look like a complete idiot in front of his nice neighbour. not only had he lost his keys, but he also couldn’t think thirty minutes ahead. usually, he didn’t care much about what people thought of him, but he still expected himself to feel ashamed now. but he wasn’t. somehow, it felt like you wouldn’t see him that way—probably because you were just as awkward.

he took the key from your hand, the little rose keychain getting his attention, as its tiny silver thorns nestled against his skin. yeonjun looked up at you, puzzled—a rose keychain wasn’t strange on its own, he had seen countless of them, but most didn’t have a stem, let alone thorns. he felt his heart skip a beat—the small silver trinket reminded him of a part of himself that he tried to ignore. you only shook your head, though, clearly telling him to not pay any attention to it. but he still didn’t like coincidences like that one.

you nodded goodbye to him one more time and had already turned away before pausing and biting your lip. “look,” you said before you could stop yourself, turning back to face him. the worst thing that could happen? he would decline, and things between you two would get awkward. but—if you were honest—what things? there were no ‘things’ between you two. you took a deep breath. “you can wait for the locksmith at my place, if you want. it’s warm, and you wouldn’t have to sit on the floor or stand for half an hour. if you want.”

it was inviting. it sounded really nice, actually. yeonjun already felt like his butt was as flat as the floor he’d been sitting on for an hour before you appeared and saved him from what he jokingly thought of as flat-butt disease. but you had just met—neighbours or not—and even though he knew he had no ill intentions, he wasn’t sure you felt the same way. making you feel uncomfortable or, worse, unsafe in your own home was the last thing he wanted. “are you sure it'd be fine? we just learned each other's names a few minutes ago.”

“well…” you frowned and tilted your head—what kind of things was he thinking about? “yes?.. i mean, do you have any… bad intentions?”

yeonjun was taken aback by your question. “um, no?” oh god, pull yourself together, yeonjun! why do you sound so unsure? he cleared his throat and repeated more firmly. “of course, not. but… is that it? you're just going to believe my ‘no’ and let me in?”

you took a few steps toward your door, glad to see him following you. “yep?.. do you really think maniacs would ask in the first place?” you asked him, opening the door and stepping aside to let him in.

yeonjun glanced at you, narrowing his eyes. “do you really think maniacs would just say ‘yeah, of course, i have all the bad intentions in the world’? it sounds…” he tapped his chin, pretending to think. “naïve?”

“yeah? then why would you put these thoughts into my head? sounds like you’re giving me a lesson on how to spot a maniac,” you said, hanging your jacket on the coat rack and pointing at the free hook next to it. yeonjun immediately got the hint and hung his jacket there too, without letting either of you get distracted from the conversation. “so—” you glanced down at his shoes. “i can give you slippers, if you want. brand new. still unpacked even,” you added, waiting for his nod and little ‘thanks’ before continuing. “so. why would one of them do it? give me a lesson on it, i mean.”

yeonjun let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “to lull your vigilance, of course. to make you ask yourself exactly that question and come up with an answer that it doesn't make any sense for a maniac to explain things like that, so it can only mean that this person isn't one,” he ‘explained’, waiting for you to take your shoes off and walk further into the apartment before crouching down to untie his sneakers—he didn’t want to risk making you feel uncomfortable, like he was looking up your skirt.

“ah, really?” you held the slippers out to him. “why would you—or maniac—tell me that, then? why give further explanation?” you asked, waiting for him to put the slippers on and grab his bag before leading him toward the kitchen. you were enjoying this conversation a lot. maybe even a bit too much, but who cared? “no, no, no, let me answer it myself. to lull my vigilance?”

“exactly!” yeonjun sat down on the bar stool, his smile wide—not because you got something ‘right’ in that silly little banter, but because it felt so comfortable. he couldn't believe you two had never talked before, given how easy it seemed for both of you. “the same thing, but a bit more layered.”

“wow, you seem like a really thought-out maniac, yeonjun. just piling on layers to lull my vigilance,” you sighed in exaggerated awe, pressing a hand to your chest with a little bow of your head. “it's an honour.”

“well,” he shrugged nonchalantly, straightening his back in mock pride. “just doing my best at everything, you know?”

you let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. he was… cute. funny too, and so easy to talk to—it felt like you had known him your whole life but had just forgotten. it wasn't unusual for you to get loud or talkative, but you usually needed more time to get used to someone before feeling comfortable enough to do so—much more time. but it wasn't like that with yeonjun; he made you feel at ease around him almost immediately. you assumed it was his confident aura that didn't waver even when he was being playful or silly. that level of confidence, unspoiled by arrogance, was truly admirable.

you bit your lip, though—you weren't sure how to reply, but you gaze fell on the coffee machine. “do you want something to drink, by the way?..” you asked, washing your hands in the kitchen sink. “i don't actually have too many bottled drinks, but i have a coffee machine, ice and a bunch of syrups, or i can make you tea.”

it actually sounded tempting. yeonjun still had a bit of his coffee when he left the elevator on this floor and realized he had lost his keys, but that was long gone. he hadn’t risked leaving the spot to buy something to drink, afraid someone would come home while he was away, so now he was pretty much thirsty. but he wasn’t sure if he preferred burdening you over just waiting for half an hour, so he shook his head.

“no, thank you. but… do you mind if i wash my hands?” yeonjun asked, getting up and rubbing his palms on his jeans. and then what? what was he going to do when he came back after washing his hands? he wasn't socially awkward, but staying with a barely-not-a-stranger in a small space with no one else around—and no alcohol to loosen the atmosphere? he should've just agreed to the coffee to make things a bit less awkward for both of you—he doubted you'd eat or drink something while he was just sitting there. was it too late to say he'd changed his mind?

“oh! kitchen sink or…” you walked out of the kitchen and he followed you, standing next to the kitchen door in the hall. you pointed at a door. “the bathroom is the only door to the right. a small gray towel on the towel rail is for hands, and…” you turned your head to look at him, still leaning on the door frame with the front of your shoulder. “i can bring you another towel if you want to rinse your face or anything. it was washed and dried that morning, so you can be sure it wasn't used.”

yeonjun blinked a few times, looking at you, his mind completely blank—he couldn't even find the words to describe how… adorably weird everything you were doing and saying was. why would you ask him if he wanted to wash his face? it was fine and clean—he had checked in the mirror by the door when he entered out of habit—but you were still unbelievably nice, offering another towel in case he wanted to do it. it felt like the thoughts in your head were completely random, yet it was interesting that you weren't afraid to say them out loud.

“no, thanks. just hands,” yeonjun said, giving you a small smile before following the direction you had pointed to.

you watched him shut the door before turning back to the kitchen—it wasn't that you felt like you had to keep an eye on him, making sure he didn't wander somewhere he wasn’t supposed to, it was just somehow he already occupied your thoughts, and you only snapped out of it when he disappeared behind the door. but as you sat at the bar table, your overthinking started again. everything was… weird. good, but still weird. you’d never met someone you clicked with this quickly, and it felt almost… suspicious.

you threw a glance toward the bathroom as if you could see through walls, before shaking your head—you had been overthinking too much lately. if you were honest, you always did. maybe it was time to stop thinking and just… be? just accept that you had met someone you felt comfortable with immediately, without questioning it? making new friends—ever heard of it? you thought. yep. it was time to just live your life without looking back at any soulmate issues—past, present, or future.

yeonjun found you with a strangely determined expression on your face and chuckled to himself. he liked that you were like an ajar book—not fully open yet, but easy enough for him to read at least your basic emotion, and it also seemed like you weren’t trying too hard to hide them either. he thought that maybe he should be just as honest.

he cleared his throat, getting your attention. “i know i said no,” he started when you looked up at him, all your focus on him immediately, “but i think i’d actually like something to drink,” yeonjun admitted, watching you standing up immediately to start preparing something, but he was quick to reassure you. “water would be fine, though.”

you paused, hand on the cupboard, looking at him. “water would be ‘fine’ or ‘preferred’?..” you asked, unsure if it sounded too blunt—you didn’t want to sound pushy or impolite, but you could make him something specific, if he wanted. it wasn’t a problem.

yeonjun hesitated, but admitted nevertheless. “to be honest, i wouldn't say no to some tea. i guess it's a bit too late for an americano,” he smiled warmly, sitting back where he was sitting before, his eyes following your movements.

he was surprised to see how excited you got, reaching for a box on the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, the tips of your fingers trying to grab it. he had to almost force himself to stay where he was, resisting the urge to rush over and help you—the scene inside his head immediately played out in slow motion, filmed in third-person with a random lyrical song and that weird corner-whitening effect they always used in dramas for moments like this. he cringed at the thought.

yeonjun still kept an eye on you in case you asked for help or needed it if everything started tumbling down, but you successfully won that round against heights and gravity, placing the now-open box in front of him. it was filled with different colourful foil bags—he was sure anyone would find something they liked here.

“you can choose any you want,” you said, grabbing the kettle to fill it with water the moment he nodded and started going through the box. you turned the kettle on and were about to sit back down when you suddenly realized you were still wearing your office clothes. “do you mind if i go change?..” you asked hesitantly, but yeonjun only nodded.

“of course. i promise to behave,” he lifted his hands in mock surrender, smiling—and making you smile back—before you disappeared around the corner, and he returned to choosing tea, wondering which one both of you would like.

you tried to change quickly, not wanting to make yeonjun wait, but you froze the moment your gaze fell on your reflection—the t-shirt you were about to put on still in your hands. a huge mark, resembling a thorned rose stem, stretched from your left collarbone down to your right ribs, crossing your chest in a jagged line, and stood out even in the dim light of your bedroom.

involuntarily, you pressed your fingers to the top thorn, right under your collarbone, as if expecting to feel it pierce the skin of your fingertips. it didn't, though—of course, it didn't—the skin felt the same as the rest, smooth and unbroken. if you didn't look at it, you wouldn't even realize it was there—you wished it was that way. ut no, you knew every detail of it. you knew the exact placement of each thorn, each uneven ridge in the stem. you knew where it started and where it ended. you could draw it with your eyes closed and get every millimeter right.

the way you tugged the t-shirt on was almost harsh, the tight collar scratching your nose slightly on its way down—you just wanted to hide that reminder as soon as possible, even though you knew you couldn't keep running from it forever. one day, you would have to accept it as part of you—which it was—and stop seeing it as a reminder of your broken future, misfortune, and a cruel fate. but not today. maybe, one day, your view on it would change naturally, when the way you saw soulmates did?..

but for now, you would opt for t-shirts with tight collars and turtlenecks, whenever someone else might see you. alone? crop tops and tank tops were fine—if you tried to avoid looking at the mark—but not in public, and not in front of someone you barely knew. for many other reasons too, of course.

when you entered the kitchen again, yeonjun was almost done choosing the last kind of tea—he grabbed the foil package from the box and placed it on the table next to six others. he turned to you, a bit surprised at your precise timing, and gestured toward the table. “i chose the ones i’d like to try. the final choice is yours,” he said with a smile, leaning his back on the wall and watching you.

his choices were great. at first, you thought about suggesting that each of you make tea in your own cup to avoid drinking something you didn’t like, but all seven options were good, so you could actually brew tea in the teapot for both of you.

you took two packages and placed it closer to him. “one of these. i can't choose,” you said, turning to the kitchen counter to grab the teapot and pour hot water into it, bringing it to the table along with two cups. yeonjun handed you the tea bag that he had chosen, and you dropped it into the teapot, waiting for the tea to brew.

as yeonjun busied himself putting the packages back into the box, the kitchen fell into silence. it wasn't the tense, uncomfortable kind of silence you might expect—it was a soft one, where both of you seemed to be lost in thoughts without worrying about getting silently judged for not supporting some awkward small talk. it felt like either of you could start or continue a conversation easily whenever you wanted, so there was no need in trying to fill the air with meaningless, forced words.

you were already sipping your tea, when yeonjun's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “there’s a lot of handmade stuff,” he noted, looking at the wall to the side of you. you followed his gaze and nodded, waiting for him to continue. “a great variety too. sewing, collages, patchwork, crocheting, pressed flowers, diamond mosaic… have you done all of that?”

you nodded, taking another tiny sip—your tea was still too hot. “yep. all of these were done by me,” you said, glancing over the countless little handmade things scattered all over the wall, and it felt like you lwere looking at them from a completely different perspective than before. “but i do none of these seriously. it was… some kind of attempt to find myself,” you admitted. a failed one, you added mentally. none of these felt completely you.

“successful?” yeonjun asked, his gaze fixed on a small patchwork of a rose, the only rose work out of a dozen—it would’ve been almost cute with the pale pink flower, some parts not sewn to the canvas, giving it some volume, but, just like the keychain, this one had thorns, carefully stitched onto the dark green stem. he lifted his hand to touch them almost unintentionally, but stopped, glancing at you.

“you can touch,” you said, and he gently pressed his finger to the top thorn of the rose, making your heart skip a beat. the stem was a smaller version of the mark you had on your chest—you made it in hope it would help with accepting your hopeless soulmate situation—and it felt strange, seeing how gently and cautiously yeonjun's fingers caressed it exactly where your own fingers had been not so long ago. you shook these thoughts away, though—close stitches were just nice to touch. “but no. not successful, as you can see in variety,” you chuckled.

yeonjun hummed—your works looked neat, at least in the eyes of someone who only knew the names of some of them, so if these were some of your first works of every kind… you were impressive. “do you like roses?” he blurted out and immediately realized the question made no sense—your apartment wasn’t full of roses, he had focused on only two things just because of his own issues.

but you simply shook your head and let out a tiny, sincere laugh. “i don’t. hate them, actually,” you admitted, making him nod in acknowledgement. “i know it makes no sense that i made that one—” you threw a glance at the patchwork he had been paying so much attention to.

“no, it’s fine,” yeonjun interrupted. “i can see why you’d want to make it despite disliking roses. the picture itself is beautiful,” he said. he used to hate roses too, but he’d learned to only hate one. he caressed the length of the stem one last time, not noticing the way you swallowed thickly at his words and movements, eyes glued to his finger. he turned to you with a smile. “i have a silly question, but i assume you cross-stitched too, and i’ve always been curious about something.”

the speed with which yeonjun switched topics almost gave you whiplash, but you tried to compose yourself. “uh, yes. yes, when i was a child. not a too enjoyable activity for me, but i did.”

he tapped the pad of his finger with his nail as if imitating a needle. “do people often pierce themselves while cross-stitching?”

you tilted your head—the question wasn’t exactly weird, but it was unexpected. “i don’t think so?..” you weren’t completely sure, since you’d never really discussed it with anyone—you’d only had your own experience. “i mean, you might when you only start, but you learn to avoid it pretty quickly, and pierce your skin on accident to the point where it hurts, maybe… a few times in a few projects?”

yeonjun hummed, his thumb rubbing the pad of his pointer finger on his left hand. maybe they were just careless?.. or it wasn’t cross-stitching at all? what else could it be, then? just sewing?

you thought for a second before continuing. “but… i guess some people use their finger pad to feel the needle while piercing the fabric or canvas?..” you said, uncertain if that’s what he wanted to know or if it made any sense in general. “you know… instead of turning the canvas back and forth, you just control the needle with one finger on the back and another one in the front,” you tried to mimic the moves but it looked ridiculous. “it doesn’t really pierce the skin, but it’s technically poking your finger with a needle constantly…”

yeonjun frowned, trying to recall the feeling. “does it hurt? or is it just uncomfortable?”

but before you could reply, his phone buzzed, breaking the conversation. he threw a quick glance at the number and grabbed the phone, accepting the call hurriedly, mouthing ‘locksmith’ to you. you nodded, watching his back as he rushed to the front door, quickly tugging his sneakers on, phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder, the rose keychain attached to the corridor key dangling out of his back pocket.

you felt… weird. it was a long-forgotten feeling, so you didn’t recognize it at first, but you felt like a child whose best friend's parents had come to pick them up from kindergarten, so not only you were left without your best friend, but alone in general, because the other children had already left, and you were left to wait for your own parents. longing and disappointment were a bit too strong of words for that, but it felt like them, in that childish way.

yeonjun stopped in the middle of tying his shoe, though, listening to what the person on the other side had to say, before slowly untying his shoes and taking them off. he ended the call and turned to you, making you look at him in question.

“something happened, and they had to move me further in order…” he mumbled, sitting back, embarrassed now at the way he’d hurried to leave the table. he only wanted to deal with the locksmith as quickly as possible so he could get back and continue talking to you, but by the way you looked at him—a tiny bit like a beaten-up puppy—he realized that it looked completely opposite of that. “they said i have to wait for an hour or two. they’ll call ten minutes before arrival.”

you nodded, rubbing the edge of the cup nervously. was he going to leave, as he now had much more time to go back home from some cafe and didn’t have to stay at your place? you didn’t want him to, but at the same time… you wouldn’t be surprised.

yeonjun, on the other hand, was unsure how to show that he wanted to stay without making you feel like you had to let him stay if you didn't want to. but… food was always an option, wasn’t it? “it’s around time for dinner. are you hungry?”

“oh!” you didn’t even realize that you were hungry, too consumed by the conversation. you stood up and went to the fridge. “i can cook somethi—” you paused, your shoulders falling—it was almost empty. just some snacks, milk and an egg. you were going to go to the convenience store after changing into something more comfortable, but that lost keys situation messed it up.

yeonjun looked over your shoulder at the fridge, holding back a chuckle—a typical fridge of a bachelorette (he assumed you were one based on the way your apartment looked), his own looked exactly the same. but it actually made the situation much better. “i can order something if you want? or we can go somewhere,” he proposed. “a friendly dinner as a thank you for giving me a place to wait.”

you froze for a second—he wanted to stay? you cleared your throat. “ordering something sounds great,” you admitted, shutting the fridge and sitting back. “i’m craving pizza, to be honest.”

he smiled widely. you didn’t want him to leave—it was great. “pizza it is!” he unlocked his phone, laying it on the table between you two. “choose anything you want.”

you started scrolling through the app. “i’m the host, i’m paying…” you mumbled, adding a pizza and a drink to the order. yeonjun replied with a little ‘mhm’, turning the phone to himself. you wish, baby, he thought, choosing food for himself.

of course, you didn’t pay. yeonjun had sworn he chose the “pay on delivery” option and even took your card when the doorbell rang. his face had been so trustworthy, you didn’t think twice. but it turned out his skill at lulling your vigilance was far better than you could expected. when he walked into the kitchen carrying the pizza boxes and a plastic bag of drinks, his expression was one of absolute shock. he announced that something had gone wrong—the order was already paid for. and, of course—how could you doubt him?—he had absolutely nothing to do with it. perhaps, he suggested, some kind soul (most likely a very handsome one, he added) had paid for it instead.

yeonjun had a way to make the atmosphere around him lighter and people around him more comfortable, you didn’t have to spend too much time figuring it out. but he also seemed to be stubborn—if he wanted to do something and thought it was right, he would do it, or find a way to do it if he was told not to. and he didn’t feel any remorse for that. but at the same time it was… fine? you didn’t want to confront him about paying for pizza, because you could easily find a way to return the favour some time later. ‘later’. the word made you feel warm inside, and you pushed all the questioning thoughts aside. yes. later.

“so,” you got yeonjun’s attention and he looked up at you, his mouth full of pizza—as if he tried to push the whole slice into his mouth without biting, which was almost cute—so you continued. “pineapple on pizza. yes or no?”

he made a face, which was ten times funnier with his stuffed cheeks. “absolutely no,” yeonjun announced as he finally managed to swallow. “like, absolutely. you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. you just shrugged, your face sly, and he made an expression of pure horror. “don’t tell me—i can’t believe i’m living next door to a psychopath! were you lulling my vigilance for the past hours just to hit me with this news?”

you couldn’t help but laugh your heart out at his endless drama skills, and he obviously had troubles keeping up the act and not laughing too. “it’s not that bad, yeonjun. don’t be so judgy! did you know,” you pointed at him with a pizza crust before biting into it, “that sweet and sour sauce is heavily based on pineapple juice?”

yeonjun rolled his eyes dramatically. “everyone knows it, girl. but it’s different,” he made a huge accent on the last word. “okay. my turn. mint choco ice cream.”

you scrunched your nose. “nope. but don’t tell me it’s a yes from you,” you warned jokingly and he smirked in response. “and you dared to call me a psychopath?! you? a mint chocolate ice cream lover?” it was getting harder and harder to keep your laugh inside, especially as he kept on laughing himself, but you tried to do your best. “i’ll be much more careful while leaving home now.”

“actually,” yeonjun tried to say it through laughter, but was completely failing. “it makes you a psychopath one more time, because mint choco is awesome! so you’re a double psychopath while i,” he pointed into his chest, “a poor victim of someone with questionable taste.”

you shook your head—you felt so full, content and comfortable now, it was almost unbelievable, but you loved it. “okay, expect a few tones of mint choco ice cream at your door as revenge for your shameless lie about paying for pizza.”

yeonjun laughed. “you don’t really understand the concept of revenge or punishment, do you?”

“invite me when you’re trying to find a way to store it, and ask me that one more time,” you stuck your tongue out at him, your cheeks already sore from laughing and smiling. “you’ll be watching it slowly melt while not being able to do anything about it, because you don’t have enough cold space.”

yeonjun pressed his hand to his chest, absolute terror all over his face. “a psychopath, no doubt… will you tie me down and feed me pineapple pizza next?” he asked, doing his best to keep his face straight.

“well, if that’s what gets you going…” you winked at him, but the ridiculousness of the exchange made you crack into a grin and laughter.

he moved a bit closer to you over the table and whispered. “really wanna know?” he winked back at you, but he was so bad at it, basically just blinking with both of his eyes, making your smile only bigger.

“okay-okay, keep it to yourself, perv,” you replied through laughter, and yeonjun moved back with a grin of a winner, grabbing another pizza slice.

talking with him was easy—he knew so much, able to continue basically any conversation, but most of them still were silly and ridiculous. you talked about everything and nothing at the same time, getting to know each other better all the while. yeonjun was a choreographer and a dance teacher. he used to be a dancer in his late teenage years, but eventually started giving lessons, making his own choreography and, well, giving lessons on his own choreography. he joked about missing the sore muscles after endless dance practices some days but always reminded himself he wasn’t that young anymore.

at some point you both somehow stumbled into a soulmate topic. it was a pure accident—you wouldn’t be able to recall how it happened or what led to it even if you tried, but you quickly changed the subject to friends, and you could swear he looked relieved for a second before composing himself. but even just a few words were enough for you two to realize that you both had some issues in that area and wandered around soulmate-less.

you barely even noticed how another hour passed, and yeonjun’s phone buzzed with a call from the locksmith. he didn’t rush to take the call that time, though, knowing it’d only mean that this tiny two-people party was over, as if the longer he would take to answer, the more time he’d get with you. but he knew it didn’t work that way, so he accepted the call and listened to the locksmith, who was saying he’d be there in ten minutes.

yeonjun ended the call, and stayed still for a second, looking at his phone screen before tapping a few times and holding it out for you. “save your number, please. or kakao id. whichever you prefer more.”

you hesitated, but he shook the phone softly to hurry you a bit, and you obeyed, taking it and typing your kakaotalk id in the “add friend” section. you paused, thinking of a way to save yourself, throwing a quick glance at yeonjun. he wasn’t so smiley and warm anymore, clearly dissatisfied—you were surprised how strongly his mood affected the atmosphere around him. or was it affecting just you?.. you typed in the safest option you could come up with—‘[ yn ], apt. 138’ —and tapped “add” before handing his phone back.

yeonjun looked at his screen, noticing the ridiculous name, small smile appearing on his face, as he quickly opened the editor and changed it to ‘little psycho’. he made sure you could see it just to witness your reaction, and he didn’t regret it a second, because you looked at him with one of the cutest angry expressions he had ever seen—your lips in a small pout and brows frowned.

“i’ll save you as ‘mr. maniac’ then,” you stated, but it only made him smile. you realized you were happy to make him smile and be the reason why he stopped being a thundercloud with tiny lightnings all around him—even if it was just for a second.

“please, do. i like the way ‘mr. maniac’ and ‘little psycho’ sound,” yeonjun said, checking the watch—he had to go soon. “i’ll even put red velvet’s ‘psycho’ as your ringtone, hm?” he proposed it like it was the best idea in the world, smug about coming up with it. the lyrics flew quickly in your mind, making you press your lips together, and he noticed it immediately. “no, nevermind, sorry—”

but you composed yourself quickly. “but only if you’re getting stray kids’ ‘maniac’ as yours. fair and square,” you said, trying to keep the most serious face you could manage, holding out your hand to “seal the agreement”. yeonjun took it just as seriously, shaking it a few times, but not letting go when it was clearly time to do so. you tilted your head in question, and that was the moment you realized you should never expect anything good from that man.

yeonjun stood up from the bar stool, placing his other hand behind his back and bowing slightly as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. “deal, milady,” he said, a foxy smile playing on his face—you were sure he wasn’t even trying to hide it, no attempt to pretend not to do it on purpose just to play with you!

you narrowed your eyes at him, turning your hand a bit to pinch the skin between his thumb and index finger, making him tsk at you, but it quickly turned into a chuckle when he noticed the way you hissed as his ring scratched exactly the same spot on your hand.

yeonjun's grin grew bigger at that. of course, he didn't do it on purpose, but it was funny nevertheless—the way your intent to “hurt him” turned against yourself. “the revenge was quick that time, wasn't it?” he asked mockingly, with no actual bite to his words, and somehow he was sure you knew it. his phone buzzed, though, and he realized he’d lost track of time again. “i’ll text you, okay? ‘mr. maniac’. don't forget,” he warned jokingly, trying to make you smile as he saw your face slowly falling.

you nodded and followed him to the front door, watching him open the corridor door for the locksmith and let him in. they both came closer to you, the man asking for yeonjun's id to confirm he was living there. you almost retreated to your own apartment, not wanting to create a crowd when it obviously wasn't needed, when your eyes fell on yeonjun's wallet that he had taken out to get his id. inside, in a small window people usually used for photos, was a tiny pink pressed rose bud, the little flower made your heart skip a beat. why would he have something like that?.. even the locksmith's question didn't tear your attention away from it; it was yeonjun's soft, almost concerned ‘[ yn ]?’ that pulled you out of your head.

it was impossible to describe how embarrassed you were, trying to quickly recall what the question had been. “uh, yes, that man is my neighbour. of a few years,” you said quickly, and the locksmith nodded, giving yeonjun his id back and saying something about two confirmations being better than one, to which you only nodded absentmindedly, image of the flower still in front of your eyes.

you waved yeonjun goodbye and mumbled something about having a good day to the locksmith before disappearing behind your door—completely unaware of yeonjun’s worried look.

the moment the door was locked, the last ‘click’ going through the heavy air, you realized how stupid you were for overthinking it—it was probably a little nothing from someone important. a girlfriend, perhaps. yes, he didn't have a soulmate, but that didn’t mean people who hadn’t met their soulmate couldn’t date anyone else—after all, your own soulmate did the same thing so many years ago. and you wouldtoo, you admitted to yourself, given the opportunity—that endless chase for someone who was god knows where, if they even were, was exhausting.

you didn’t even turn away from the door yet when your watch buzzed and you saw ‘be a cute psycho, not a sad psycho ;)’ on the screen. you looked into the peephole, and there he was—sending his failing wink at you and making you smile. you unlocked your phone and sent a quick ‘okay, mr. maniac’, accepting his friend request and changing ‘choi yeonjun’ to the nickname he wanted. you thought for a second before taking a screenshot of his name and sending it to him, getting a reply almost immediately—’good girl’. you paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure how to reply, when another message came in: ‘tell me when i’m too much, okay? don’t put up with my behaviour if it makes you uncomfortable’. it was nice—really nice, warmth spilling inside, as you sent ‘okay. but it’s fine so far, don’t worry’.

the conversation didn’t stop there—just like you two were talking about everything and nothing when yeonjun was sitting in your kitchen, you continued talking through texts, completely losing track of time—friends, families, funny stories from work. turned out he was three handshakes away from you—one of the guys who took yeonjun’s dance lessons about a year ago and became his good friend was regularly playing league with soobin. the guy he moved to japan a few months ago and kept complaining to yeonjun that his playing buddy chose a girl over him until three of them started playing together.

it was past midnight when yeonjun said that it was time for you two to sleep, and you couldn’t even fight him on it—you tried to, but he kept correcting your sleepy typos instead of answering, and you quickly realized once again it was useless to go against him, because he would find a way to get everything done his way. so you wished him sweet dreams and locked your phone, putting it on the bedside table, your sleepy gaze still glued to it. you hoped yeonjun wasn’t finding you annoying—you liked talking to him.

just like your head was full of him for the previous few hours, your last thoughts before finally falling asleep were the same.

the pain caused by him was delicious. it reminded you of caramel—his touches were drawn-out, hot and so, so sweet. no pleasure had ever come close to the sweetness of the pain he was inflicting upon you—he took his time, making you savour everything he was giving you and crave more.

it felt like he was everywhere, coating every inch of your body; pain, just like honey, glazing every nerve—you could feel him tugging your hair, fist firm against the back of your head, could feel his fingertips sinking into the flesh of your thighs, craving to leave marks on you—you prayed they did—and his nails digging into your skin as he ran his hand down, leaving trails along your legs—just as burning and sweet as melted chocolate.

his fingers around your neck felt like the only necklace you would ever want to wear from now on—hand firm, warm and sweet too. if only he tightened his hand—he did so immediately, making you roll your eyes and part your lips, and he didn't let the opportunity go to waste, sliding his index and middle finger into your mouth, the other ones and thumb digging into the gentle skin of your cheeks.

but the most delicious pain was brought by his teeth, sinking into the skin of your neck and chest, holding it as he sucked the soft surface in, making the lonely thorny stem on your chest bloom, as he held you pressed into him. it was as if he wanted to merge you together, never letting you leave him, and you would beg him to even sew you two together just to never stop feeling that pain. would beg for more of it.

you felt him part your legs, one hand still on your neck, another one digging fingers into the inside of your thigh as he opened you for him, sinking his teeth into the flesh of the other thigh. he leaned in, and the feeling of his warm breath between your legs made you lose the last shred of sanity you still had after all the sweet torture he put you through. at least, you thought so until his wet, warm tongue pressed against your aching clit.

you arched your back, clenching the bed sheet in your hands. “yeonjun—” you choked out, eyes flying open, heart pounding in your chest. the ceiling of your bedroom felt pressing and heavy, trying to bury you under its weight, as if the guilt and disgust at your own dreams weren't heavy enough.

everywhere his hands had been just mere moments ago felt dirty, as if every inch of you was covered in filth instead of the sweet honey his touches had coated you in. you wanted nothing more than to go shower and scratch away the remnants of the disgusting dream you’d had, but even the thought of touching yourself—not sexually, just touching yourself anywhere—made you want to throw up.

yeonjun was nothing but kind to you, making you feel warm and comfortable, asking if you were fine with his behaviour almost on the clock, and you paid him with having a fucking wet dream. not even a soft vanilla one—though, that one wouldn't have made the situation much better—but a dirty one, where you craved him to hurt you, and absolutely nothing was fine about it. it was that stupid masochism again, the one you tried so hard to ignore.

you sat up slowly, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling between your legs—you touched the fabric and it was basically soaked, feeling under the pads of your fingers adding to the guilt, because you weren't sure when was the last time you'd been that wet. you had to pull your panties off just not to feel your wetness against your skin—cool night air making you hiss.

the floor was cold under your bare feet, but you didn't care, finding a clean pair and pulling it on almost violently. you needed some water—your throat and lips were dry, and you prayed to all the gods that you had been just as quiet while having a wet dream as you were while touching yourself. if you remembered correctly, your and yeonjun's apartments were mirroring each other, meaning his bedroom was just behind the wall from yours.

you stood by the counter, your fingers clutching the glass—you two were sitting just a few hours ago behind your back, and you wondered how you'd be able to look him in the eyes now, if you couldn't even look at yourself.

just a wall away from where you were only a few minutes ago, yeonjun stirred awake with a soft groan on his lips, head thrown back. his heart was beating like crazy, and his entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, as he struggled to catch his breath and grasp at least one coherent thought amidst the dozen flying through his mind. but most importantly, he wanted to focus on anything but the images that stayed in his head even after he woke up.

yeonjun couldn't believe these thoughts, these fantasies were back. they weren't too hardcore, but he still had been pushing them down and ignoring their existence for years. no matter how he tried to phrase it, none sounded good—‘i’m a sadist’? he was, but he was a softcore one—that wasn't what anyone would think when hearing the word, though. ‘i enjoy causing pain’? it was even worse. and even knowing the truth himself, he couldn't accept it, too afraid of being labeled a psychopath. again.

but they were back, and in the worst way possible—dreams. something yeonjun couldn't control. and what dreams they were—about the sweet neighbour he had only started getting to know better, and never wanted to make her feel uncomfortable. but his brain thought differently. too differently, throwing in images of the way your skin felt between his lips and teeth, of the way his fingers fit perfectly around your neck, as if it was made for him to hold it, of the way you trembled and clenched at every little glimpse of pain he was giving you.

yeonjun felt himself twitch in his boxers—pictures too vivid in his head. he ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the damp bangs away from his sweaty forehead and tugging at the roots. he didn't want to do it, truly didn't, but it was almost hurting, and his free hand—almost on its own accord—drifted down to jerk his tank top higher and then palm his hard cock through his boxers. he groaned at the feeling that was releasing at least a bit of pressure—pressure so unbearable, it almost shadowed the guilt he felt over thinking about you in such way.

the fabric was soaked through with precum, and yeonjun pushed it down with a quiet, low moan, freeing himself, his pulsing cock slapping against his stomach and leaving a smear of precum on his skin. he wrapped his hand around the shaft, stroking it slowly, images from the dream finding its way back into his mind—he tried his best to keep his fantasies to the needed minimum, not letting anything else in. he was doing it only to get rid of a boner.

but you felt so good beneath him there, your expressions, your sounds, the little trembles of your body and the way you clung to him, begging for more—all of it was sweeter than honey. yeonjun couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering. was it possible to make you even sweeter? of course, he thought, cock twitching in his hand even before he finished the thought. because he could want anything, crave anything and you would give it to him, because you craved the same thing. like his lost puzzle piece.

yeonjun stroked himself faster, his grip tightening around his throbbing cock as he started losing himself in the fantasy, much more dangerous than the one he had dreamed about, but he was in too deep to stop, because you—the one from the dream—was her. the one he had craved so much but had buried deep inside, down to the last thought. the one who wanted everything he wanted to give and could give—in exact same amounts. just perfect for him down to the smallest whimpers of pleasure found in the pain he gave you.

the thought made yeonjun groan, his hips bucking up into his fist as he felt his release building fast. he could almost hear your mewls and sobs of begging to never stop, feel your hands on his body, holding him and accepting him and his every dark part. he came, biting into his lip hard to muffle his moan of your name, as thick ropes of cum painted his stomach and hand.

yeonjun tried to catch his breath, guilt slowly creeping in—much stronger than before—but there was something worse. the word was still bright, almost blinding in his mind, and he couldn’t believe a mere wet dream and just jerking off had awakened in him something that he had been hiding from himself for nearly a decade.

he looked at his hand, covered in cum, in disgust and grabbed the pack of facial tissues, pulling them out harshly to get rid of the reminders of everything that had happened. yeonjun wasn’t disgusted by his cum—he was a grown up, after all—but he hated everything that was somehow connected to it this time, and tissues weren’t enough. he threw the box somewhere on the bed and got up to go to the bathroom to at least wash his hands properly.

yeonjun didn’t even bother to wipe them dry, just pausing in the doorway on his way out and shaking the drops off, as his gaze fell on the key you had given him, the silver rose keychain dangling down from the shelf, reflecting a light that went through the window from somewhere outside in the night. it was too dark to see the thorns, but he knew they were there, mocking him with the cruel coincidence.

the way yeonjun tugged his tank top off on his way to the large mirror was almost cruel—he couldn’t care less if he tore it, he needed to look at it. he turned his back to the mirror, looking at the reflection over his shoulder, and there it was—mark of a wild rose, a thorned rose stem crossing his back. looking at it was almost foreign, feeling like a distant memory of someone who he had been years ago.

yeonjun had always thought he was lucky to have it somewhere he just couldn’t see it—wild roses didn’t always find their soulmates, and their marks were a constant reminder of that, so he felt sorry for those who had to look at it regularly. he had the privilege of only seeing his own when he wanted to, and he never did—he hadn’t seen it for years. but had it helped him now?

had his dismissal towards it helped him, when his tired and stressed brain clung to the nicest and most relaxing thing that had happened to him in weeks and distorted it into something dirty and disgusting, which had awakened a craving for something that he had given up on getting long ago, because his soulmate was nowhere to be found?

had his pretending helped him, when he came with the thought of just being accepted?

everything melted under the morning light, though—just like how it could turn the monster in the dark corner into a coat carelessly hung on the coat rack, when you were a child, in the same way, it transformed all the thoughts, fears and, most importantly, guilt into indifference for both of you.

in the darkness of the night, you weren't sure how you could even think of yeonjun, but now, as you were applying healing lip balm to you sore lower lip—that you, perhaps, had bitten too hard last night—while trying to type with your other hand, you didn’t see any problem—you couldn’t control your dreams. your brain had probably been so overloaded with yeonjun for hours before you went to sleep, that it just continued thinking of him even subconsciously. god, you even had a wet dream about soobin once, after you two stayed in the office until almost midnight and you were just too tired.

yeonjun would never know about it anyway—unless you told him, and you surely weren’t going to. you were going to just go with the flow and let stuff happen the way they were supposed to, without ruining everything for yourself by feeling ‘guilt’ and ‘disgust’ toward your subconscious. you would just deal with the consequences later—if there would be any, of course. you sure there wouldn’t be.

and it was the same for yeonjun, who was almost embarrassed with how dramatic he had been in the dark shadows of his apartment and thoughts, longing for a soulmate who would ‘accept’ him. yes, his soulmate would—just as he would do the same for them—because his darkness aligned and blended perfectly with theirs. that was the point of soulmates. but who said his soulmate was the only one who could do it? his friends accepted him—yes, it was different, but it was still acceptance. who said there was only one person in the world that could accept him as a lover? bullshit.

and when it came to the filthiness of thoughts yeonjun had about you… he wasn’t so sure it was truly you, if he was being honest. in the chill morning air, it felt more like a phantom of his soulmate—one he secretly craved so badly to hold—had shaped itself into your form just because he spent so much time with you yesterday. it probably had to do a little with you as… you. too little. almost nothing.

so yeonjun had almost no remorse sending you a good morning text in the form of ‘so, are you having pineapple pizza for breakfast? or are you going to add pineapples to kimchi maybe?’. before he could even wonder if it sounded a bit too rude or aggressive, you hit him back with ‘okay, jokes aside, serious question now. do you put choco mint ice cream on your fried chicken or do you prefer to dip it?’, making him smile—you matched his sass, and he loved it.

yeonjun asked you if you wanted him to keep you company on your way to the ground floor, so you wouldn’t get bored waiting for the elevator and in it—a kind man he was—and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to burden him, but keeping in mind that he was the one who offered. he didn’t have to, but he still did, so it was safe to assume he at least had no problems with it—and at most, wanted to. so you chose not to think for him and just be honest.

it was awkward, leaving the apartment and seeing him by your door, waiting for you, but you brushed it off—it reminded you of a friend waiting for you to walk to school together, and it wasn’t a big deal. what was a big deal was the way your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, images from the dream still haunting you, a weird feeling blooming in your lower stomach. seeing him after the way you had felt him in the dream was unsettling, but you tried to push the images away—of course, they were still there, barely any time had passed.

it was the same for yeonjun, his breath hitching when he saw you—so composed and neat compared to how messy and ruffled you had looked in his dream and his fantasies. he quickly corrected himself—not you. his soulmate. with your appearance, but still not you. but he didn’t realize that it took him a bit too long until your question pulled him from his thoughts.

yeonjun was looking at you so intently that you felt an almost overpowering need to make yourself seem smaller. he couldn’t read your mind, could he?.. “is there something on my face?” you asked uncertainly, your hand shooting up to touch your lips. you didn’t have a coffee mustache, did you? that’d be so embarrassing!

“huh?” yeonjun quickly ran his eyes over your face. “no, nothing,” he shook his head, but almost immediately narrowed his eyes, leaning in just a bit closer, making your eyes widen. but then he shook his head and straightened back. “nope, nothing.”

that man was something else, you thought. “what did you think you saw?” you asked curiously, as you both headed to the elevator hall.

“hm?” yeonjun threw a quick glance at you. “it seemed like you had a whole pineapple slice in the corner of your lip,” he shrugged nonchalantly, but the tiny smirk tugging at his lips gave away his intentions to tease you. he continued, “probably imagined it.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him, keeping the play up as you stepped into the elevator. “really? just a few hours with me, and you are already imagining pineapples everywhere?” you leaned your back against the mirror, watching as he stood a bit to the side to adjust his hair. “what’s next? ordering pineapple pizza in the middle of the night so no one sees it?”

gosh, yeonjun thought, throwing a quick glance at your reflection. you fit right into the circle of people he enjoyed spending time with. and what was even better, he knew he’d always have the last word with you. “mhm,” he turned to you. “wait til you look at mint choco ice cream in a convenience store, and the next second, you find yourself eating it with a tablespoon in the middle of the night, thinking of me,” he smirked.

you rolled your eyes playfully, covering up the weird way your insides reacted to ‘thinking of him in the middle of the night’. “you wish,” you stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he’d take it as your defeat. yeonjun seemed to like making you flustered and having the upper hand, and you could get flustered easily sometimes and had never been too sharp-tongued, sometimes struggling to come up with extremely clever and sassy responses—but he didn't seem to mind.

but ‘keeping company to the ground floor’ became ‘keeping company to the nearest bakery’ to get morning coffee for both of you—yeonjun said that he since was already outside, he might as well use the opportunity to get americano for now and some baked goods for later. you weren't sure who was the first to joke when he handed you your cup, but his question about whether there was a pineapple slice in your coffee blended with your question about him deciding against adding chocolate-ed toothpaste to his coffee this time, and neither of you had even finished—your shared laughter filled the little bakery instead.

when you parted your ways, though, yeonjun realized that while talking to you made his exhausting thoughts disappear and he could just stop worrying about basically anything—which was only weird because you had met a little over twelve hours ago, as his friends were able to do the same—whenever you two weren’t talking, his mood became even worse than before, thoughts about not meeting his soulmate yet coming back to haunt him. he thought he had stopped caring a few years ago.

it wasn’t easy to keep himself from turning around to look at you, but he managed to, gripping the cup in his hand tighter, the ice cubes clicking together and cooling his skin even through plastic. was the temporary happiness worth the dark thoughts that crept in the moment he hadn't heard from you for a minute? he wasn't sure. it still wasn't too late to go back to being just neighbours—you still had nothing between you two except one and a half inner jokes. it'd be easy to pretend things just didn't work out.

yeonjun unlocked his phone, the chat with you still open on the screen. his eyes ran over the lines of the morning conversation, a soft smile appearing on his face. he wasn't sure he could do it—to pretend it just didn't work out—because it did, and your messages were perfect proof of it. he wasn't a weak man; he knew how to fight bad habits and addictions, and he could fight this one too, but… did he want to?

you, on the other hand, felt like you were shining from the inside. it seemed like the universe, destiny, fate, or whatever else was up there had heard your intentions of letting the soulmate situation go and sent yeonjun to support you along the way. maybe yeonjun was a sign, hitting you right over the head, telling you it was time to move on and focus on something else. for example, building a good friendship with someone nice and kind? it probably was. what else could it be?

it became a regular habit—not a daily one, but yeonjun kept you company on your way to your work until the bakery at least two or three times a week, when his schedule allowed him—sometimes, his lessons started early in the morning, and he left while you were still sound asleep. he usually told you about it the morning of the previous day, adding something like “just don't miss me too much” or “i hope you won't cry on your way to work”.

yeonjun developed a habit of visiting the bakery and paying for your regular order beforehand these days, but of course, when you asked him about it, he had sworn it wasn't him—just some other kind and extremely handsome soul. perhaps the same one that paid for the pizza the first day. but you weren't going to let it slide, so whenever you both visited the bakery, it turned into a competition who could pay for both orders faster, and eventually two orders became one—to make it impossible to have a tie and to minimize the playful wrestling your competition was turning into.

what surprised you the most, though—because yeonjun's desire to pay for you didn't—was that he and soobin somehow got into contact, probably through beomgyu, and almost made a schedule. whenever soobin couldn't walk you home after working extra hours—either because he had his own plans or because you were the only one who stayed behind—yeonjun was right there, waiting for you. you knew you could tell soobin you wanted to go home alone that day, and he'd text yeonjun, telling him not to worry, but somehow, you were sure yeonjun would still come, not wanting you to walk alone when it was getting dark even before you left work. and you liked spending extra time with him, so you never fought him on it.

every time yeonjun saw you and your bright smile directed at him, he thanked his past self for deciding against pretending things between you and him didn't work out. he realized it wasn't you who was a problem despite triggering these dark thoughts, he was one—he had never really worked them through, choosing to just ignore them until they disappeared. and he thought they had, but of course they hadn't. yet somehow, it felt like just your presence was slowly healing him, motivating him to work his issues out, and it was getting better, even though he never shared his burdens with you.

unexpectedly enough, you hadn't visited yeonjun's apartment in these two months, and he had only visited yours on the day you two talked for the first time. your schedules just didn't seem to match well enough—your nine-to-five job barely aligned with his packed weekday evenings (some days he had to rush back to the dance studio after walking you home) and almost full weekends, where he could have up to twelve hours of lessons each day.

“as i spent two hours at your place the first day,” yeonjun once stated while walking you home, your fingers wrapped around his arm, as he held an umbrella over you both, “it'll be only fair if you spend just as much time at mine,” he threw his regular glance at you to check if you were fully shielded from rain.

it pulled you out of your head and you looked at yeonjun with a little ‘hm?’ but your brain caught up before he could repeat himself. “two hours? don't tell me you're going to set a countdown and push me out the moment it runs out,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“nah, don't worry,” yeonjun assured you, poking your shoulder. “i’ll set a countdown and won't let you out until it goes out,” he paused for a second, wondering if he should say that, but jokes like that had become more or less regular between you two pretty quickly. he just hoped you'd tell him if he ever made you feel uncomfortable. “might even tie you up, hm?”

you looked at him with ‘are you serious?’ expression, trying to contain your smile. “you're such a perv, jun,” you said, shaking your head, but you weren't serious about it, and he knew it—you often were the one to start these jokes. “how did we get from jokes about tying you up to jokes about tying me up, though?”

yeonjun shrugged. “got to know each other better?” he was only half joking—he had enough experience to be almost completely sure where exactly you leaned on that… coordinate line. and considering you were keeping up with that direction of jokes, he assumed he was right.

you narrowed your eyes at him—were you that obvious? “what does that mean, choi yeonjun?” you asked with mock pressure, but he only laughed, shaking his head. “are you free to hang out today?” you asked quietly, hoping he was. why would he mention it in the first place if he wasn't?

but yeonjun only shook his head, sighing. “no, sorry, mouse,” he squeezed your hand on his arm with his in an attempt to comfort you at least a bit. “i have classes in twenty minutes and almost til midnight,” he said. he hated to upset you—you never said it outright, but he could hear it in your voice. and he knew he’d hear that little hint of disappointment now too.

of course, he did… you nodded, eyes glued to the tips of your shoes. “okay…”, you mumbled, looking at the reflection of you both in the puddles. it was his job, and he already somehow managed to find time between classes to walk you home when soobin couldn't and woke up early some days to keep you company on your way to work. you wished you could hide your emotions better, but it was difficult to pretend with him. you wanted to be sincere. “sorry. don’t think about it, okay?”

yeonjun pressed his lips together—you both still hadn't passed that stage. you could show your emotions to each other, but never really shared deep feelings, quickly pushing them away and covering them with a smile. and he couldn't ask you to open up, because he wasn't sure he would be able to do the same. “okay,” he smiled warmly at you. “i’ll record myself dancing between classes and send it to you, okay?”

you nodded, already happier—you loved watching him dance because you could see how much he enjoyed doing it, basically shining from the inside when he was doing it, his happiness almost contagious. and yeonjun enjoyed showing his skills to you too—he had only showed you his dancing in person a few times, but each time you looked at him with such awe, as if he were performing miracles rather than just moving his limbs. it fed his ego to no end, if he had to admit.

a few weeks later, though, yeonjun managed to free up his schedule a little and finally invited you to his place, swearing he didn't have any mint choco ice cream there, and you promised your pockets were free of pineapple pizzas. he had admitted he had nothing against pineapples on pizza less than a week after joking about it for the first time, and you said you were only joking about mint chocolate too, but the joke still stuck—it was your first inside joke (or the second one, after the one about yeonjun being a maniac one).

you found out he played guitar—the tips of your fingers itched at the memory, but you pushed it away—but he hadn’t played much recently, barely having time to practice anymore, so he figured he had probably lost all his skills. but yeonjun tried to remember a melody, playing it for you as you sat in his living room, watching him try to recall finger placements. and he was actually good, making you wonder why he gave himself so little credit sometimes. he was a great singer too—another skill from his middle school years—and while the highest notes weren’t his strongest suit, his soft, breathy singing was one of the nicest voices you had ever heard.

since then, yeonjun managed to free up even more time to spend it with you and his other friends—he was glad you motivated him to do it, because he realized he had been overworking himself like crazy for the past two years, taking on more classes than he could realistically handle while still enjoying his job. he could finally sleep properly too, minimizing the number of classes that started too early or ended too late, which also gave him opportunity to meet his old friends more often and spend time with you at his or your place almost on daily basis.

it made you both slowly start opening up to each other about your current problems—work, friends, families—as you sat on the couch late at night,the room dimly lit by a paused movie or tv series on the screen, a slightly open window letting in cool air and making you wrap your blankets tighter around yourselves. all of it made the atmosphere too comfortable, almost intimate, making each of you think about the things that were burdening you and stealing the desire to keep them to yourselves when getting asked about them.

often, you were the one who shared your burdens, and yeonjun listened, giving advice or, more often, sharing his point of view on the things you were worried about. you never expected him to be so emotionally mature, if you had to admit—he was extremely stubborn and even short-tempered some days, occasionally seemed to have issues when his authority was questioned, and you had noticed some light possessive tendencies, but his advice was always great, and most of the time, he was able to help you decipher your own feelings and emotions when you were completely confused.

yeonjun preferred to keep his burdens to himself—not just from you, but from almost everyone. he was the oldest in his friend group, and didn’t want to burden others in general, especially the ones who were younger. and, he once admitted, he also felt even more protective over you. he never said why, but you knew—he saw you weak. not in a bad way, just as someone who needed protection, and he wanted to take that role, which meant he wasn’t allowed to make you feel worse in any way, even if it was worrying about him.

but at the same time, yeonjun tried his best to open up about things he was sure wouldn’t worry you too much—an annoying person in his class, spoiled milk because he forgot to put it back in the fridge, or a takeout order that was delivered wrong. things that made him annoyed or angry, not upset or hurt, because he was afraid you’d mirror his feelings, and being annoyed was much better than being upset. but even so, it still helped him open up more and more to you.

the only thing neither of you ever mentioned in these months was soulmates—the first slip into that topic had drawn a line you both didn’t want to cross, realizing how difficult it was even without knowing the details. mostly because it was the same for both of you. but at the same time, neither yeonjun nor you worried too much about it recently, too focused on maintaining a newly found friendship. of course, some dark thoughts still haunted you in the dead of night, but it happened much less frequently.

wet dreams started happening more frequently, though. so often, you didn’t even bother anymore, simply going right back to sleep after waking up from another one in the middle of the night. all of them were based on the same thing—pain, which was more or less understandable, given your type of soulmate bond affected your relationship with it a lot. but you couldn’t wrap your head around yeonjun being the one in your dreams. he seemed so gentle with whatever he touched, so soft, a complete opposite of how he was in your dreams, and despite him being an extremely handsome man and everything anyone could want in a partner, you weren’t sure you were sexually attracted to him. at least, not until yet another wet dream that made you look at him differently for a few days.

for yeonjun, it was even worse—the fantasies he had been suppressing for years started creeping closer to the surface, which didn’t match well with his already naturally high libido, more free time from work, and not wanting to look for a friend with benefits or even a one-night stand. some nights he even managed to jerk off and clean up while being half-asleep, waking up in the morning with only a fleeting memory of what had happened. he felt more annoyed by it than guilty, but refused to admit it even to himself—the thought felt extremely selfish and wrong. he wasn't sure why you were the one who pushed his pain kink to the surface, unable to find an answer no matter how much time he spent thinking about it.

it became such a regular thing for both of you, that you just went about your days like nothing had changed, neither of you trying to put any distance between you. you kept getting closer, and at some point, yeonjun gave you a spare key to his apartment—he wasn't sure why, but said it felt ‘natural’. you joked that at least he wouldn’t have to worry about losing his keys anymore, before giving him a spare key to yours—it felt ‘natural' too.

while you barely used yeonjun's, he used yours almost regularly—his uneven working schedule was giving him an opportunity to go grocery shopping in the middle of the day sometimes, so he started buying groceries for both of you, so you wouldn’t have to bother with it after work, leaving them at your place. of course, he always asked beforehand if he could come into your apartment or if you'd prefer him to keep them at his place until you could take them later, but you had no problem with him visiting your place, so you always gave the green light.

yeonjun never took it as a “permanent green light” though, and kept asking for your permission. so when one friday evening you texted him about not feeling too well and probably having a cold—just to explain why you couldn't hang out with him—he asked if he could check on you in the morning and maybe cook something for you. you agreed hesitantly, under the condition of him not getting too close to you so he wouldn't catch a cold too. you both knew perfectly well that he'd do whatever he wanted anyway, but it was obvious he wouldn't visit you without your permission. still, he'd worry his ass out if he didn’t, so you just agreed—you’d take care of him if he got sick.

in the middle of the night, your fever got much worse, your temperature rising significantly and you were so cold, that you could do nothing except pull thick warm pajamas over the skimpy top and shorts you usually slept in and add another blanket, wrapping yourself in two of them like a hot, feverish burrito. and that was exactly how yeonjun found you in the early morning.

it was still dark, but yeonjun decided he could check your temperature in the dim glow of the city lights filtering through your window—he didn't want to wake you by turning on the bright lights, so he stepped to your bed, already feeling uneasy at the sight of how little of your face was visible between the uneven layers of blankets. and it only got worse when he crouched down next to the bed and touched your cheek with the back of his hand—you were practically burning.

yeonjun almost jumped up, quickly slapping the nightlight lamp you had on your bedside table, the room filling with a soft yellow glow as he started unwrapping you from the layers of blankets. “come on, mouse, don't be stubborn,” he mumbled, when you tried to cling to the fabric, but he was stronger in general and you were weakened by the cold, so he had no problem uncovering you. “shit… are you trying to burn yourself alive?” he cursed, when he saw how thick your pajamas were.

but that's when yeonjun froze, towering over you, his knee on the bed as you tried to keep warm, curling into a ball, your back facing him. he wasn't sure you were wearing anything underneath—panties, most probably, but a top…? cautiously, he slid the pajama top up your back, revealing the thin fabric of a crop top, damp with sweat and clinging to your skin. your skin felt like fire under his fingers. shit, he thought. please, don't hate me.

he turned you on your back, trying to tug your pajama top off, but you clung to his arms with quiet sniffles. yeonjun thought his heart was breaking at the way you kept softly sobbing his name, saying how cold you were—he wasn’t even sure how you recognized him in that state, but you did.

“baby,” he whispered, trying to lift your arms, but you only tried to wrap them around him, desperate for even a bit of his warmth. “we need to lower your temperature. please, let me take this off.”

you only whimpered his name again, your nails digging into his forearm. “jjun-ie… it’s so cold,” you sobbed quietly, and yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat—you had never called him that way before, and the way you did now made him want to protect you from everything. or give in. but he knew better. “you’re so warm…”

yeonjun hushed you, quickly throwing a glance at the medicine and glass of water on your bedside table beside the thermometer—you prepared it before going to bed. good girl. “i’ll warm you, i promise,” he murmured, pressing his palm to your side—your temperature was only getting higher. “just let me take this off, okay?” he said, tugging the pajama top up slightly.

you nodded with a quiet ‘okay’, and yeonjun, finally getting permission even though a questionable one, pulled the over your head—at least you cooperated now—and froze with it in his hands, his eyes locked on your skin that wasn’t covered with the short top. he almost forgot how to breath.

when he realized he had to undress you, he had told himself this was nothing, that he had seen enough women naked before, that there wouldn’t be anything new. and there wasn’t anything new. but there was something he had never expected to see—the mark. the one that resembled the one on his back. the same mark he had seen on the bodies of other wild roses he knew. half of the stem hidden beneath your top.

you were a wild rose. yeonjun felt like a complete idiot—everything had hinted at that. all the wild roses he knew disliked or even hated roses before meeting their soulmate, yet they always had something connected to roses on them. some wore jewelry, some had keychains or little paintings of one in their phone case. he had a pressed rosebud in his wallet, and you never took off a velvet bracelet that—he now realized—would look like a thorny rose stem if you laid it down.

you had some issues with connection or your soulmate—yeonjun didn’t know the details, but he had never met a wild rose who had it easy. that type of bond being probably the least stable and the most unpredictable one. and you also tried your best to be extremely carefulб even in your clumsiest moments—that was something wild roses learned early on. and, well, you hadn’t met your soulmate, which wasn’t too strange before, but made sense now—many wild roses wandered alone for a really long time.

yeonjun almost touched the thorn under your collarbone as if hypnotized when your sob of his name pulled him out of the haze. you sat up, reaching for him, and he was actually glad you did, because he needed you to take your medicine. he sat on the bed next to you, and you clung to him almost instantly, one of your hands slipping under his hoodie to press against his back, as you tried to warm yourself. he froze—his own mark was there, and even though you couldn’t feel it, it still made him feel weird.

but yeonjun only adjusted your position slightly, settling you between his legs, your side pressed to his chest. he suddenly felt weak, wondering if the discovered information was already taking its toll on him. but he shook his head—not the right time to think about it. he popped the pill out and grabbed the glass, placing the medicine in your palm and guiding the glass to your hand, his own holding it over yours in case you were too weak.

you stopped sobbing about being cold, though you still shivered and trembled slightly in his arms. maybe, the fresh air in your room had cooled you down a bit, clearing your mind, but either way, yeonjun was glad you had calmed down a bit—it made you much more cooperative. you took the medicine almost without needing his words, earning a quiet ‘good girl’ from him, which you probably paid no attention to.

your arms were around yeonjun’s waist the moment he took the glass away from you, holding him tightly as you pressed your chest against his as much as you could in that position. he quietly asked you if he could take off your too-thick pajama pants as well, and you nodded with a quiet ‘yes’, your head resting on his shoulder, breath warm against his neck. you even lifted your hips slightly to help him pull your pants down, getting another ‘good girl' in response.

yeonjun put the thermometer into your mouth and rested his palm on your bare knee, as you pulled your legs closer to your chest, cold now as your pajamas were gone. he tried to warm you at least a little, but mostly, he let you warm yourself against him the way you wanted to, like your own personal human heater—it was the first time you two had been this close, and it was extremely close compared to the simple hello and goodbye hugs, which had been the closest you’d ever gotten. and he was too lost in thoughts anyway to think about how to warm you actively without crossing any boundaries.

somehow, the discovery was horrifying, and mostly because yeonjun had no idea why it scared him so much. was it because it made him feel so much more protective over you, knowing perfectly how painful that type of bond could be? or because of how close it would naturally bring you together in search of comfort whenever it came to anything about soulmates? or maybe because he knew he would have to open up now and tell you who he was—because he knew who you were, and it would only be fair. because he was afraid to open that pandora’s box he called his soul. afraid to do it again, and realize, too late, that he had chosen the wrong person. one more time.

but as you finally fell asleep on his shoulder, your breathing even, your hold loosening and your skin no longer burning—the second temperature check confirming it—yeonjun knew he would never tell you how much you clung to him or how helpless you had sounded, unless you remembered it yourself. he didn't want you to feel embarrassed, especially when there was nothing to be embarrassed about in the first place. he caressed your cheek without thinking, surprising himself both with the action and with the way you instinctively leaned into his cool hand.

carefully, yeonjun laid you back down on your bed and covered you with a thin blanket, holding himself back from pressing lips to your forehead the way his mom always did to him, even when he had grown up. he got up slowly—he still felt weak, but he had to cook something for you, so you’d have something to eat when you woke up. he slapped the nightlight one more time to turn it off, and threw one last quick glance at you before leaving the bedroom.

you were much more surprising than he could ever expect, and he had no idea what to do with these surprises.

♡ you're here ♡ | to chapter 2 →

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#˚₊ · ➳ ❥ fleur de destin #[ by me ]#[ writing ]#[ yeonjun x reader ]#[ peachy's jjun ]#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt smut #yeonjun smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun hard thoughts #txt angst #yeonjun angst #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff

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callmemonster68 · 2 months ago

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JUNGWON - The Blood Moonlight ( smut )

Y/N’s life changes when she takes a job at a secluded mansion, organizing the library of seven mysterious vampires. With Jungwon, the hottest moments unfold as she faces danger, passion, and a rival clan under the blood moonlight.

Pairing: Jungwon X FemReader (Masterlist)

Genre: Obscenity / Dark Fantasy

Note 1: This story will have eight versions, with only the smut section varying. One will involve the group, while the other seven will focus on individual characters.

Warning: graphic description of gore ( bloond/injuries ) explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands, group sex,double penetration, oral sex, anal sex, masturbation

Note 2: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome! Text not revised!!!

Y/N never imagined her ordinary life in a quiet town would be transformed by fate. It all began when she accepted a job at an old mansion deep in the forest, tasked with caring for the personal library of its new residents. The mansion was home to seven mysterious men, each exuding a dark charm and harboring deep secrets.

Jake, the leader, radiated authority and charisma. Jay, enigmatic and seductive, sparked Y/N’s curiosity with his intense gazes. Jungwon, youthful in appearance but with wisdom spanning ages, had a kindness that contrasted with his true nature. Sunoo’s radiant smile masked a darker side, while Niki, the most playful, teased her with jokes and piercing looks. Sunghoon was cold and reserved, his silent intensity impossible to ignore. Lastly, Heeseung, a mix of sweetness and danger, seemed to be the bridge that united them all.

Over time, Y/N noticed they weren’t merely attractive and mysterious. There was something supernatural about them: the way they always seemed to know what she was thinking, their inhuman speed, and their aversion to sunlight.

When the truth was revealed—that they were vampires hiding from humanity—Y/N should have run. But the connection between her and the seven was irresistible. Each of them seemed to fill a void within her, and their attraction to her was equally overwhelming.

Life in the mansion grew more intimate as they protected and courted her, sharing moments that transcended the physical, diving into deep emotional bonds. Amid their passion, they faced external threats. Rival vampire clans sought Y/N, believing her blood possessed unique properties capable of empowering weaker vampires.

As the bond between the seven and Y/N deepened, the mansion became not just a home but a refuge against outside dangers. They would face threats, battles, and their own conflicted emotions to protect what they had built together.

═══════════════════════════════════════

Jungwon was the most cautious when approaching Y/N. He wanted to ensure she felt comfortable with the idea of being with someone like him—someone who carried centuries of history and a darker side. Their first time happened on a quiet night in the mansion's garden. They talked for hours under the stars, and Jungwon confessed he was in love with her. When Y/N took the initiative and kissed him, he responded with tenderness and restrained passion, as if wanting to make that moment last forever. Their first time was filled with gentleness, marked by soft touches and an emotional connection that brought them even closer.

Jungwon slid his fingers over her hand, observing her with a calm intensity that seemed to hold entire universes. Jungwon: "You make me feel human again, Y/N," he whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "After so long in the darkness... you are my light."She smiled, her eyes shining under the moonlight. Y/N: "And you make me feel safe, Jungwon. With you, I can be myself."He leaned in slowly, capturing her lips in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, filled with restrained desire. When he pulled away, his eyes locked on hers, warmth evident in his expression. Jungwon: "You have no idea how long I've waited for this... to touch you, to kiss you. I was afraid of scaring you, but now I can’t hold back anymore."Y/N placed her hand on his face, stroking it tenderly. Y/N: "I was never afraid of you, Jungwon. I just want you to show me everything you feel."Her words seemed to shatter the last remnants of his restraint. He pulled her closer, his arms encircling her securely as his lips trailed kisses down her neck. Jungwon: "You are so perfect, Y/N," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and heavy with desire. "Every part of you fascinates me... and tonight, I want to make you feel as special as you are to me."

His touches were gentle but purposeful, every movement showing how much he adored her. He laid her down on the soft grass of the garden, his eyes shining like stars as he gazed at her. Jungwon: "I will never hurt you. I want you to know that," he said, holding her hand. "But I also want you to know how much you make me lose control."When she pulled him closer, Jungwon smiled softly, though there was a growing passion in his gaze. Jungwon: "I will worship you tonight, Y/N. Every moment, every breath of yours will be mine."

And he kept that promise. Every kiss, every touch was filled with care and devotion, making it clear that being with her was more than desire—it was pure, absolute love. From that moment on, every touch, every kiss reflected the devotion he felt. There was no rush, just a genuine desire to fully share the moment.

Jungwon positioned himself over Y/N, their bodies pressed together as they kissed fervently, their hands exploring each other, whispers spilling from both of their lips. Jungwon's hands found the hem of Y/N's dress; he was eager to see her bare, but he wouldn't proceed without her consent. Jungwon: "May I?" he asked. Y/N: "You have my full permission. Do whatever you want with me," she replied with a sweet smile. Jungwon nodded, smiling back, then removed her dress, leaving her only in her panties, already soaked with anticipation. Motivated even more by this, he quickly discarded his own clothes. He placed a tender kiss on her lips before trailing kisses down to her clothed core, sending shivers through Y/N. Grasping the waistband of her panties with both hands, he looked into her eyes for permission before removing them.

Positioning his hardened member at her entrance, he leaned in for another kiss, this one even softer, filled with emotion. Slowly, he entered her, her walls gripping him tightly, eliciting a groan from him during the kiss. Once he was fully inside, he intertwined their hands and began to move—slowly and deeply—his eyes never leaving hers, constant praises spilling from his lips.

As Y/N neared her climax, she wrapped her legs around him, stopping his movements. Y/N: "Please, let me worship you too."With that, Y/N gently flipped him over, changing their position. Now that Y/N was on top, she set the rhythm, her movements fast and intense from the start, drawing the most beautiful expressions and sounds from Jungwon. Y/N: "You’re so beautiful. I can’t stop admiring you."Jungwon, too lost in pleasure to speak, pulled her into a messy kiss, promises and praises spilling from their lips as Y/N rode him mercilessly. Y/N reached her climax first but didn’t slow her movements. Y/N: "Come for me, Jungwon."Jungwon: "I’ll fill you, mark you as mine."

With that, Jungwon released inside her, a breathy moan escaping his lips. Still connected, Y/N rested her head on his chest. As the night melted into the early hours of the morning, Jungwon wrapped her in his arms, murmuring sweet words as the moon continued to illuminate the garden. Jungwon: "Thank you for trusting me," he whispered, kissing her forehead. Y/N smiled, resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heart. Y/N: "Always, Jungwon. Always."

═══════════════════════════════════════

The nights at the mansion were growing darker. The rival clan hadn’t given up on capturing Y/N, believing her blood to be unique—something that could grant unimaginable power to vampires. Despite all the protection offered by Jake, Jay, Jungwon, Sunoo, Niki, Sunghoon, and Heeseung, an ambush caught them by surprise.

Y/N was gravely wounded during the attack, blood slowly dripping as she collapsed into Jake’s arms. Her eyes filled with tears, but she managed to murmur:

Y/N: "I don’t want to die..."

The mansion fell silent as the seven vampires gathered around her, their faces etched with despair. They knew there was only one way to save her—to turn her into one of them. But it wasn’t a simple process. It wasn’t just about drinking their blood; it was crossing a barrier that would bind their souls forever.

Jake was the first to speak, his voice firm but laden with pain:

Jake: "If we do this, there’s no turning back. You’ll become like us, and the world will never be the same for you."

Fighting against the pain and the darkness threatening to consume her, Y/N looked at each of them.

Y/N: "I trust you. I want to stay with you... forever."

Jay was the first to kneel beside her, his intense gaze locking onto hers. He made a small cut on his wrist, letting the blood drip onto Y/N’s lips. One by one, the others followed the same ritual, each drop of blood becoming part of her.

When it was Heeseung’s turn, the last of them, he hesitated briefly, holding Y/N’s face in his hands.

Heeseung: "This will hurt, but I promise I’ll stay by your side the whole time."

He leaned in to lightly bite her neck, sealing the ritual. The pain was followed by a wave of heat spreading through Y/N’s body, accompanied by a sense of rebirth.

The transformation was quick but intense. Y/N screamed, her body arching as if being ripped from her humanity. Her eyes flew open, glowing a deep red before returning to their natural color. She gasped, feeling every sense heightened: the scent of the mansion’s old wood, the sound of the wind outside, and most of all, the seven hearts around her beating in unison.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

The transformation brought more than power; it brought connection. She could feel their thoughts, emotions, and the depth of love each felt for her. But with that came an intense thirst—a hunger no mortal food could satisfy.

Jake helped her stand, holding her hand firmly.

Jake: "You’re one of us now. Strong, immortal... but it comes at a price. Your thirst will be relentless, and the world will see you as a monster."

Y/N looked at him and the others, her determination growing.

Y/N: "I accept the price. Because with you, I fear nothing."

As the full moon illuminated the mansion, the seven vampires surrounded her, each vowing to protect and guide her in this new existence. They knew the rival clan was still a threat, but now, with Y/N as one of them, their group was complete and more powerful than ever.

Her first hunt that night, guided by Sunoo and Niki, ended with a piercing scream echoing through the forest. The transformation was complete, but something about her blood seemed different. Jungwon, observing her from afar, realized she wasn’t an ordinary vampire. Something in her blood made her a unique predator, and he knew this was just the beginning of something far greater.

What destiny lay ahead now that Y/N had crossed into immortality? No one knew for sure, but the mystery lingered like mist under the moonlight.

Their story, far from over, had only just begun.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jungwon #jungwon #jungwon smut #yang jungwon #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x reader #enha scenarios #enha #jungwon enhypen #enhypen scenarios

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 2 years ago

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(2) TENDER LIKE A BRUISE ─── ethan landry 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “No other word makes my mouth as tender as your name.” — ‘Soft Human’, Emery Allen

pairing. spiderman!ethan landry x reader

warnings. swearing, mention of blood + death, mildly suggestive

summary. after that first night, ethan and you have acquired an unspoken bond. your friends sense this bond, but, unfortunately, think it’s something else entirely. (1) (2) (3) (4)

a/n. more spiderman!ethan. im really loving this au, but i also have no idea what im doing. expect some more fics, though not entirely in chronological order.

ii.

The rest of that night went like this: you ordered pizza, but by the time it got to your apartment, Ethan fell asleep on your couch.

So you forced him to wake up, all but shoved three slices of pepperoni pizza down his throat, then locked him in your room and made the boy rest.

(Waking him up was far harder than you thought it would be. He slept like the fucking dead, and looked like it too, hands perfectly by his sides, staring straight up at the ceiling.)

You were cleaning up the boxes in the living room when you heard a commotion in your bedroom, alongside Ethan’s familiar, profuse apologizing.

“Ethan?” You called out, walking down the hall. “What’s going—“

Suddenly, the door to your room opened, and out came Ethan, hair messy from sleep, being pinned against the hallway wall by Mindy.

“What the fuck were you doing in—“ Mindy said furiously, her hand balling up the fabric of your (Ethan’s) shirt.

“Hey- Hey! Mindy, put him down! I’m right here,” You said, wide eyed. You could see the pain blooming in Ethans side as Mindy man-handled him, his brows twisted taut, eyes squeezing shut.

At the sound of your voice, Mindy let go of Ethan immediately. From your room behind her walked out Annika and Tara, who were cautiously stepping away from the two of them.

Ethan’s hands held his bandaged side subtly, leaning against the wall like he had when you first let him into your room.

The guilt churned in your chest — how could you not think about your friends entering the apartment with him in there? Of course Mindy would be hostile, for Ethan had never come over if Chad wasn’t there first.

Without thinking, your hands graced both of Ethan’s arms. “Are you okay?” You whispered in his ear, and waited for his curt nod before turning to Mindy, Annika and Tara’s prying eyes.

“I’m— we—he came over to study, and he fell asleep so I…” You racked your head for a plausible excuse, so you didn’t have to tell everyone he was fucking Spiderman and that he almost bled out in your shared bathroom just three hours ago.

“Study?” Tara cut in, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you at the party?” She gave Ethan a pointed look.

Ethan opened and closed his mouth, looking between you and the rest of your friends. “I left, like, an hour in. I have Econ tomorrow, so I needed to - to study.”

Mindy took a deep breath in, then flared her nostrils, letting the air out. “Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” She backed away, hands in the air like she was getting arrested, “just wanted to know why this dude you don’t even talk to was sleeping in your room.”

Then, she walked off, down the hall into the living room, hands still in the air. Annika and Tara slipped away similarly, but Annika gave the both of you a particularly long and suspicious look.

You looked at Ethan. Ethan looked at you.

“How’s my stitch work?” You said lightly, trying to break the silence while gesturing to his side.

A small smile broke on Ethans face. “I think my head needs the concern more,” he said, rubbing the part of his head that hit the wall.

“Well, I’ll get you an ice pack if it's that bad. Now sleep. I’ll wake you up when you need to leave - if Sam catches you in here, it’ll be a repeat of last time.”

Ethan grimaced, touching his nose nostalgically. “Noted.”

After Ethan entered your room, stretching and letting out the yawn he had been holding in, you closed the door, and made your way to sleeping in the living room. Any looks you got from your friends, you ignored.

This knock-on-your-window-patch-Ethan-up-let him sleep-over-situation repeated several times.

It wasn’t one you particularly liked, however. Over time, you and Ethan grew closer. It's a little hard not to get to know each other when one is saving you from near-death, and knows your biggest secret.

You found out how sweet Ethan was, his consideration far more than mere politeness. He was a good person, one who often put his life on the line for people he didn’t even know. So, seeing the boy in pain every time he snuck in tugged at your heart-strings.

You didn’t exactly… know why Ethan was so good. Any time he talked about becoming Spiderman, he seemed so tense, so guilt-ridden. His voice had an intonation of loss, of pure grief that he wouldn’t let anyone touch.

(If anything, that grief was hurting him more than the injuries you were patching him up for.)

Besides that, even now, you two had never hung out in normal circumstances, and most times you saw Ethan, he was clad in that red-and-blue latex suit.

It had you wondering what exactly you two were. A walking first aid kit and the hero? Or friends?

It's not like you didn’t understand - becoming so close so quickly would make everyone suspicious, so keeping this relationship on the low was absolute key.

(But that didn’t mean it didn't hurt a little.)

Ethan coming over in secret like this had now been happening at least weekly for five months straight. During that, the nature of your relationship evolved: sometimes, Ethan’s injuries were bearable enough that he swung back out your window (to your adamant behest), or, he was awake enough to watch a movie with you in the living room, or even just knocked on your window during his patrols to say Hi.

One night, you forgot someone was home. You’d done up a nick on Ethan’s neck - a place he couldn’t reach by himself - and you’d forced him not to swing back to Brooklyn, even if his police walkie was rattling off several alarming police codes.

“Ethan,” You said, holding the walkie up. “This is going to get you killed.”

“I’m fighting crime! Of course I’m going to get hurt.”

“And I would much rather you didn’t get hurt.”

“Am I cutting into your study time?”

“No, dumbass, I just don’t want you to swing injured. I care, you know? About you.”

Ethan paused at that, looking at you carefully. “I — um,” his face was pink, “okay, fine. I’ll… stay. But just for tonight - next time, I’m going no matter what you say.”

“Just promise me to stay safe, alright?”

Ethan nodded, slightly hesitant. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” You pressed the walkie talkie into his chest, “So, Chinese or Thai tonight?”

“I’m thinking Indian, actually,” Ethan said, trailing behind you into the living room. “Do you remember that place from last time? They made the best—“

Then, catching the both of you completely off guard, Quinn’s door swung open wide.

Out came another one of her regular hookups - the prison suit guy, whose forehead stitches were now a light scar - who looked shocked at the sight of you guys and quickly scurried out. Then, out came Quinn herself, who waved the guy goodbye.

Quinn almost ducked back into her room without saying a thing to you guys, obviously ridden with fatigue, but quickly spun back.

Quinn blinked, rubbed her eyes, then blinked again.

“Are you two —“ She pointed to you two, jaw dropped, obviously wrong thoughts in her mind, and you were both quick to correct her.

“No! No — we,” Ethan started and stumbled, looking at you for help.

“Econ! He came over for econ help.” You finished for him, placing your hands on your hips.

Ethan nodded vehemently, “I’m hopeless at the statistics.”

“Didn’t you ace stats in highschool, E?” Quinn said pointedly, quickly sobering.

“Well, these— these ones are harder, okay!”

“It’s really hard,” you tried to convince her. “Everyone is almost failing this unit. I’m barely getting by with the extra textbooks I had on the subject.”

A beat passed.

And then Quinn seemed to consider this, leaning her head against her doorframe. “Well, whatever. Now go bang or study stats, I don’t care, just be quiet. I’ve got swim practice tomorrow.”

You and Ethan both gave her a perfect, agreeing smile, and she disappeared into her bedroom.

“Oh my god,” You whispered to Ethan first, “She thought we were—“

“She thought we were…” He repeated, eyes wide, finger tugging at one of his curls.

“That is the funniest thing I’ve heard this week, my god.” You shook your head, flopped on the couch, and that was that.

(Inwardly, your reaction stung Ethan a little.

Was it really… really so implausible that you two would be, well, together?)

And about the misconception of being together? Your whole friend group believed what Quinn did, too.

One similar night, after Ethan changed into a pair of his clothes (after the first few instances of patching him up, he began keeping clothes in your room) and you were about to put a movie on, you two had walked into the living room, and found your entire friend group waiting for you there.

Sure, dressing Ethan’s wounds happened often enough that they were home and asleep while you did so, but you didn’t think you two were that loud. At least, loud enough to wake the entire house.

It was early morning, 2-am or something, and Ethan had been texting back his dad, pretending he was just coming home from a party. Ethan had to regularly assure his father that he was indeed safe and sound, something you weren’t exactly privy to the origin of.

(There was a cloud of mystery concerning Ethan becoming Spiderman, his family’s undue concern for him, and his and Quinn’s deceased brother, Richie. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but you just knew it was all connected.)

Ethan was just behind you when you stopped at the sight of your friends in the living room, your jaw dropped. Ethan bumped into your back, stumbling and apologizing, until he saw what exactly had made you stop.

“What the — what are you guys doing here?” You said first, at their piercing gazes.

“We’re staging an intervention,” Quinn said, trying to be serious, before breaking and letting out an ungodly laugh. “Oh my god, you guys need to stop fucking in the bathroom!”

“What?” both of you said in shock. Your face burned red, as did Ethans, who looked at you.

“E, I am so proud of you man, but you guys gotta be normal about this shit,” Chad said, scrubbing his face.

“Why the bathroom, exactly?” Tara leaned back, eyes red with sleep, like she had been waiting for hours and was slowly succumbing to the fatigue.

“Just! Hol— hold on, a sec. We aren’t fucking in the - in the bathroom, okay?” You said, arms gesturing wildly. Your face was practically on fire now, the whole room feeling a touch too warm.

“We aren’t even together!” Ethan added on quickly, though shying further behind you.

Annika snorted, then leaned her head on Mindy’s shoulder. “You guys don’t have to hide it. You do know we can hear you in there, right?”

What? You weren’t making any undue noise in the bathroom, you had made sure of it. Any possible noise they could hear would just be the dry bandage and Ethan’s overdramatic whining, which—

Ethan’s whining.

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, brows becoming permanently furrowed. You jabbed Ethan lightly in the side, “This is your fault, you know?”

Ethan spluttered, “How is it—“

“You’re always so loud in there, and I keep telling you to—“

“And that!” Mindy cut in, pointing at you two. “We cannot forget to mention that.”

“‘That’ what?” Your head swiveled to Mindy’s pointed finger, letting go of Ethan’s sleeve that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“”’That’ what”’?” Mindy mocked in an (incredibly inaccurate) impression of your tone. “Jesus, I mean all the arguing and the teasing and the touching!”

Everyone nodded simultaneously, as if your (not real!) predicament was extremely easy to notice.

You blinked rapidly, looking at your friends then back at Ethan. “This is - so ridiculous,” you said, under your breath.

“Is it, though?” Ethan shrugged, head tilted and considering the facts against you two. “I mean,” he explained himself, “all of a sudden I’m always over “studying” and you’re sneaking me around the house instead of letting everyone know I’m here. We spend a little too long in the bathroom together, you keep your window a smidge open for me, and you keep my clothes in your closet.”

Well. With all that splayed out on the table, it did sound like you were hooking up. It was a great cover, if you were being honest, if only it didn’t make things so damn awkward.

Suddenly, as if Ethan knew what you were thinking, his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him.

“Okay, fine,” Ethan started, looking at your group of friends. “You caught us. We’re, well, dating. Surprise?”

Through Chad’s cheers and everyone else’s relieved sighs (that of which they didn’t have to painfully watch you and Ethan sneak around the apartment together anymore) Ethan whispered to you, disguised as a kiss to the crown of your head.

“This fake dating cover is gold. The perfect excuse. You’ll help your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, right?”

In response, you nodded your head slightly, then looked up at him with a plastic smile, talking between it. “Thanks, babe. I’ve become your personal nurse.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of my sidekick.”

“Just don’t ‘Death in the Family’ me, Landry.”

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pdriesta · 5 months ago

Text

CHAPTER FIVE

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count — 10k

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving behind the love and they love they worked so hard creating. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — i loved writing this chapter!! i've grown to love them so much i wanted to make sure i accurately represented their love. let me know you thoughts!

masterlist

the thought of marriage had been lingering between them for a while now. it wasn’t the same as before, not like when they first got engaged. back then, everything felt like a whirlwind—a rush of love, passion, and excitement about building a future together. but now, after everything they'd been through, marriage had taken on a new meaning. it wasn’t just about the idea of becoming husband and wife. it was about commitment, about choosing each other every single day despite the hardships.

y/n had been thinking about it more often lately—about being his wife, about what that truly meant. she would catch herself daydreaming, imagining what it would be like to say "i do" to him, to have that promise feel real again. sometimes she’d lie awake at night, her hand brushing over the empty spot on her finger where the engagement ring used to sit, and it made her stomach twist. not with regret, but with longing. she missed the weight of it, missed what it symbolized for them, a reminder that they were in this together, no matter what.

and this morning, as she stood in front of the mirror getting ready for work, those thoughts weighed heavier than usual. she smoothed out the fabric of her blouse, adjusting the way it tucked into her tailored pants, her belly slightly pushing against the waistband now. she could feel trent’s eyes on her from across the room, but she didn’t turn around just yet. she was lost in her own head, thinking about how far they had come, but also how much further they still had to go. they weren’t perfect, not by any means, but they were trying. and that had to count for something.

as she ran her fingers through her hair one last time, she glanced at her reflection, the absence of her engagement ring nagging at her in the back of her mind. it had been months since she’d taken it off. months since she’d handed it back to him in tears, feeling like they were too broken to deserve it anymore. but things were different now. they were healing, slowly but surely, and as she stood there, she realized how much she wanted to wear it again. how much she needed that reminder that she was his, and he was hers.

her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps behind her. turning around, she found trent standing in the doorway, his hair still tousled from sleep, and wearing a loose hoodie with joggers. his eyes darkened as they raked over her figure, lingering on the way her blouse hugged her body, her growing belly just barely noticeable under the fabric.

"you look so damn sexy, baby," he murmured, his voice low and filled with heat as he walked toward her. she bit her lip, feeling her cheeks warm under his gaze.

“thanks,” she whispered, her eyes dropping to his lips before she glanced back up to meet his eyes. there was something different in the air this morning, something heavier, charged. she turned back toward the mirror, pretending to focus on adjusting her clothes again, but her mind was on him.

A few minutes later, she padded downstairs to find him seated at the kitchen island, his legs spread wide, leaning back in his chair as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. there was an ease about him, but she knew better. trent was never truly relaxed these days, not with everything on his mind. but the sight of him like this, so effortlessly handsome and so hers, made her heart skip.

she turned toward him then, finding him seated at the kitchen island, his elbows resting on the countertop as he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone. his hoodie was soft and rumpled from sleep, and his joggers hung low on his hips, making him look so effortlessly handsome that her heart swelled with affection.

“hey,” she called out softly, stepping closer to him. trent’s eyes lifted immediately, locking onto hers with that familiar warmth that always made her stomach flip. “where’s my engagement ring?”

the question hung in the air between them, and she saw the way his entire body tensed. his hand instinctively went to his pocket, the motion so subtle she might have missed it if she wasn’t paying attention. for a moment, he just stared at her, his mouth opening slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“it’s just… i want to wear it again,” she continued, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “i know we still have a long way to go, but… when i wear it, it’s a reminder that we’re doing this together. that we’re trying.”

trent swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers for a long moment. “it’s… uh,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard. “it’s been at the jeweler’s. getting cleaned.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. “getting cleaned?”

he nodded a little too quickly, his hand still lingering near his pocket, and she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “you’re a terrible liar, trent,” she teased lightly, stepping closer until she was standing between his legs.

he let out a breathy laugh, his nerves showing through in the way his hands fidgeted in his lap. “i just… i wanted to do this right,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “you deserve more than just me giving you the same ring back. i wanted it to feel… special. like it did before.”

her heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making her chest tighten. she reached out, her hand resting on his knee as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing softly against his. “trent, i don’t care about any of that,” she whispered, her voice gentle but firm. “i don’t need a big gesture or a new ring. i just want to be with you. fully. i want to be your fiancée again.”

he looked up at her, his eyes wide and filled with emotion, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. the weight of her words seemed to hit him all at once, and his breath caught in his throat. “you… you want to be my fiancée again?” he asked, his voice shaky, almost disbelieving.

y/n nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “yeah,” she whispered, her fingers tightening around his knee. “i do.”

trent’s hands reached out, gently cupping her face as he pulled her closer, his lips pressing against hers in a kiss that was soft, almost tentative. it felt like the first time all over again, the way they were both cautious but full of longing. when he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his breath shaky as he whispered, “you’re everything, y/n. you know that, right?”

she smiled against his lips, her heart swelling with love for this man, the father of her child, the one she wanted to spend forever with. “and you’re everything to me,” she whispered back, her hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck. “we’re gonna be okay. i know it.”

trent’s arms tightened around her, pulling her into his lap, his lips finding hers once again in a kiss that was deeper, more urgent. they still had a lot to figure out, still had so much to talk about, but in this moment, with her wrapped up in his arms, it felt like they were on the right path. like they were finally moving toward the future they had always wanted.

as she pulled back, trent’s hand rested on her growing belly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “have they kicked yet?” he asked, his voice filled with awe and excitement.

y/n laughed softly, her hand covering his as she shook her head. “not yet, but you’ll be the first to know when they do.”

trent grinned, his eyes shining with pride as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her belly. “i can’t wait.”

they shared a quiet moment together, the room filled with a sense of peace that had been absent for so long. as y/n stood to finish getting ready for work, she couldn’t help but glance back at him, her heart filled with so much love she could hardly contain it.

she was going to marry him. she was going to wear that ring again, and this time, it was going to mean even more than it had before. because now, they knew what it took to fight for each other. now, they knew what it meant to truly love.

and that was all that mattered.

as trent pulled her closer, their lips meeting in a kiss that was anything but gentle, y/n could feel the weight of their past slipping away, replaced by something stronger, something real. his hands slid down her waist, gripping her tighter as he deepened the kiss, his breath hot against her lips as he teased, “you’re not getting that ring back just yet.”

y/n smiled against his mouth, her fingers tangling in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, the teasing edge in his voice making her pulse quicken. “we’ll see about that,” she whispered, leaning in to press another kiss to his jaw, her lips brushing his skin in a way that made him shiver.

“i mean it,” he breathed out, his hands slipping under her blouse, fingertips grazing the skin of her lower back. “when you get it back, it’s gonna be better. it’ll be… right this time.”

she pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, searching them for a deeper meaning. there was something there—something unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. the way his gaze softened, the way his hands tightened around her waist, like he was holding onto something more than just the moment. something important.

“what do you mean, ‘better’?” she asked quietly, her heart skipping a beat. her voice was soft, but there was an edge of curiosity laced through her words. trent hesitated, his eyes darting away for a split second before meeting hers again, the corners of his mouth pulling into a small, knowing smile.

“you’ll see,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. “i’ve got something planned. just… be patient, okay?”

y/n raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “something planned? like what?” she pressed, but he only shook his head, that teasing grin growing wider.

“you’ll ruin the surprise if you keep asking,” he said, his voice light but the seriousness in his eyes told her that whatever he had in mind, it was something big. something that meant a lot to him. and to her.

a flicker of excitement sparked in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as she realized what he was hinting at. trent was planning something special. something that wasn’t just about getting back the ring, but about them, about their future.

“okay,” she said softly, her heart swelling with love as she leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, savoring the way his lips moved against hers. “i’ll wait.”

trent chuckled against her mouth, his hands sliding up her sides before resting gently on her belly. “you better,” he whispered, pulling her closer until there was no space between them. “it’s gonna be worth it, i promise.”

his words hung in the air between them, full of promise and possibility, and y/n couldn’t help but feel a rush of anticipation. whatever trent had planned, she knew it was going to be more than just a moment. it was going to be the beginning of something new, something that would make everything they’d gone through worth it.

as they stood there, wrapped up in each other, the future felt brighter than it had in a long time. and though she didn’t know exactly when or how, she knew one thing for sure—trent was going to ask her to marry him again.

and this time, she would say yes with her whole heart.

the rest of the day passed by in a blur of work calls and emails, but y/n’s mind kept wandering back to trent’s words. he had something planned. something special. and as much as she tried to push the thought to the back of her mind, the curiosity gnawed at her.

by the time she got home, the need to know had completely taken over. she had to find it—if he’d hidden the ring here, she’d track it down. her eyes darted around the room, mentally noting every spot it could be.

she started with the dresser, pulling open the drawers carefully, sifting through his clothes. nothing. she moved on to the closet next, checking the pockets of his jackets, her brow furrowed in concentration. still nothing.

she was mid-rummage, standing on her tiptoes to check the top shelf, when she heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. panic hit, but before she could even pull herself together, she heard trent’s voice from down the hall.

“baby?” his voice called out, full of amusement.

y/n froze, one of his jackets still clutched in her hands. her eyes widened as trent appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a grin that only grew wider when he saw what she was up to.

he didn’t say anything at first, just stood there watching her. his damp curls clung to his forehead, fresh from his shower after training, and his fitted hoodie hugged his frame in all the right ways. “what are you doing?” he finally asked, his voice thick with amusement.

y/n dropped the jacket and quickly turned, her heart racing as she tried to play it cool. “oh, nothing. just… organizing.” she smiled sweetly, attempting to mask the fact she’d been snooping.

trent raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. without another word, he walked over to the bed, casually kicking off his sneakers before collapsing onto the mattress. he stretched out, arms behind his head, still watching her with a lazy grin.

“organizing, huh?” his tone was teasing, eyes glinting with amusement. “looks like you’re trying to find something.”

y/n’s eyes narrowed playfully, her hands landing on her hips as she faced him. “maybe i am,” she admitted, stepping toward him. “so… where is it?”

trent let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he settled into the pillows, his gaze never leaving hers. “you’re still on about that?” he asked, his voice full of affection.

“yup,” y/n replied, moving closer, her curiosity getting the best of her. “you said you had something planned, and now you expect me to just sit here and wait? that’s cruel.”

trent grinned, watching as she came closer, his eyes following the way she leaned over him, trying to coax the information out. “i never said it’d be easy.”

y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “come on, trent,” she teased, her fingers gently tracing along the hem of his hoodie. “just give me a little hint.”

trent smirked, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her down onto the bed with him, her squeal muffled as she landed beside him. “you’re not gonna stop, are you?” he asked, his voice full of amusement as he leaned over her.

“nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p’ as she wriggled under his grip, her laugh light and playful. “i’m not giving up until you tell me.”

trent laughed softly, his fingers brushing against her waist as he shook his head. “you really think you’re gonna get it out of me?” he teased, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

y/n smirked, slipping her hands up to his chest, gently pushing him onto his back as she straddled his hips. “i think i have my ways,” she murmured, leaning down until their faces were inches apart. “maybe i’ll just have to work a little harder.”

trent’s breath hitched slightly, but his grin never wavered. “you can try,” he whispered, his voice rougher now. “but i’m not cracking that easily.”

y/n pouted dramatically, though her eyes twinkled with mischief. "we’ll see about that," she murmured, her hands sliding under his hoodie as she teased, brushing her fingers over his skin lightly. trent groaned softly, his hands moving to her hips, gripping her firmly.

"you're playing a dangerous game, baby," he rasped, his eyes darkening as y/n leaned in closer, brushing her lips against his, but just when he thought she'd give in and kiss him, she pulled back, giggling.

"you think you can resist?" she asked sweetly, standing between his legs now, her fingers still teasingly trailing over his chest. she raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with challenge. "where is it, trent?"

he let out a low chuckle, his hands moving to the back of her thighs, gently pulling her even closer. "you really think you're gonna get it out of me this way?"

"maybe," she teased, leaning in just enough to make his heart race before pulling away again. "or maybe… i'll just have to keep trying until you break."

trent grinned, leaning up, their faces mere inches apart. "go ahead, try your best." but the second their lips brushed, he felt the shift in the air, and all the teasing melted away as their kiss deepened, the warmth between them impossible to ignore.

y/n's hands slipped from under his hoodie, tangling into his curls as she kissed him back, no longer teasing, no longer holding back. trent's grip on her hips tightened as he pulled her flush against him, the heat between them building. the soft brush of her lips became more insistent, her breath hitching as trent’s tongue slid against hers, deepening the kiss. his hands roamed up her thighs, his touch setting every inch of her skin on fire.

but just as quickly as the intensity had risen, y/n pulled back, her forehead resting against his, both of them breathing heavily, lips swollen from the heat of the moment.

"where is it?" she whispered, a breathless laugh escaping her as she stayed just inches away from his lips. her fingers traced along his jaw, the closeness driving him mad.

trent chuckled softly, his forehead still pressed against hers. "you're relentless, you know that?"

"i know," she grinned, her fingers playing with the hem of his hoodie again. "but you love it."

"yeah," he murmured, leaning in, his lips brushing her ear as his hands tightened their grip on her hips. "i do."

y/n’s breath hitched as his lips trailed along her jaw, a soft hum of approval escaping her. but still, she couldn’t resist, her fingers pressing lightly against his chest, keeping just enough distance between them to keep him wanting more.

"so, where's the ring?" she asked again, her voice teasing, but her body giving away how much she was enjoying this game.

trent’s eyes darkened as he looked up at her, his hand sliding up her side, pulling her even closer. "you’re gonna have to be patient," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "i told you, you’ll find out when the time is right."

"patience isn't my strong suit," she smirked, leaning down, her lips ghosting over his once more. "but i guess i’ll have to make do."

he groaned softly, the tension between them palpable as he pulled her down onto him, his lips catching hers in another heated kiss. this time, there was no teasing, no playfulness. just need.

as their lips moved together, y/n could feel his heartbeat matching hers, fast and hard beneath her touch. his hands moved under her hoodie now, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist as he deepened the kiss, pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them.

but again, y/n pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eye as she stood, sliding out of his grasp, her fingers trailing down his chest as she did.

"keep teasing me like that, and you’ll never get the ring," trent warned, his voice thick with amusement, though the heat in his gaze betrayed his playful tone.

y/n smirked, standing between his legs again, this time letting her hands rest on his shoulders. "i think i’ll find it," she whispered, leaning in just close enough to let her lips hover over his once more, "whether you want me to or not."

trent let out a low groan, his hands grabbing her by the waist and pulling her into him once again, but this time, y/n didn’t pull back. her lips met his in a kiss that was slow and deep, her body melting into his as they both gave in to the moment, the world around them fading away.

"i guess you’ll just have to keep looking," he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough, making her shiver as she leaned into him, unable to resist any longer.

she smiled, her lips brushing his one last time before pulling away completely. "i will," she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing his jaw as she stepped back, her gaze still locked on his, "and when i find it, you're mine."

y/n woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. her hand instinctively moved to rest on her belly, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath. her eyes landed on a folded note on the pillow beside her. she picked it up, already feeling a smile tug at her lips as she recognized trent’s handwriting.

be ready, beautiful. tonight’s for you. i’ll pick you up at 7. wear something that makes you feel as beautiful as you are. - t

a warmth spread through her chest. she ran her fingers over the note, the words lingering. after everything they’d been through—the struggles, the tears, the doubts—trent always found a way to remind her that she was his world. the anticipation built throughout the day, a quiet excitement bubbling under the surface.

by 7, y/n stood in front of their mirror, smoothing her hands over the soft fabric of her blush pink dress. her braids were styled loosely, falling down her back, and she felt her baby bump growing by the day. but there was something different about tonight. it wasn’t just the note or the dinner—it was the way trent had been looking at her lately, the way he seemed to hold her a little closer, as if he didn’t want to let go.

the doorbell rang, and when y/n opened it, there he was—trent, standing in a tailored suit, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers. his eyes locked on hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. they just stood there, drinking each other in.

“wow,” trent breathed, stepping closer. “you are breathtaking.”

y/n blushed, feeling her heart skip a beat. “you don’t look too bad yourself.”

trent’s grin was soft, his eyes filled with something more than just admiration. it was love, deep and enduring, the kind that had weathered storms and come out stronger. he kissed her gently, his hand instinctively resting on her belly for a moment before pulling away.

“ready to go?”

she nodded, her curiosity piquing as he led her outside. the drive was peaceful, the city lights twinkling as they passed by. when they reached the restaurant, y/n expected them to head inside, but instead, trent took her hand, guiding her toward a private entrance. they stepped into an elevator, and y/n’s breath hitched when the doors opened.

the rooftop had been transformed into a dream. fairy lights hung overhead, casting a warm glow over the intimate space. a candlelit table was set up by the edge, the city skyline twinkling in the background, and soft music played in the air. it was perfect—like something out of a fairytale.

“trent…” y/n whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “you did all this?”

trent smiled, his gaze soft and filled with love. “for you. you deserve it all, y/n. every bit of it.”

they shared dinner, laughing and talking as they always had, but there was something about the night—about the way trent kept looking at her, his eyes full of emotion—that made y/n’s heart race. after dessert, trent stood, taking her hand and leading her toward the center of the rooftop, where the lights shone the brightest.

his hands trembled slightly as he held hers, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breathless. “y/n,” he started, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and i don’t think there’s a way for me to put into words just how much you mean to me. not completely. not in the way you deserve.”

y/n’s chest tightened, her fingers gripping his hand a little tighter.

trent’s voice was soft, almost reverent, as he continued. “we’ve been through so much, haven’t we? we’ve had our highs, our lows. we’ve fought, we’ve broken, but we always found our way back to each other. and through it all, you… you’ve been my constant. the one thing i knew i couldn’t lose.”

his hands moved gently to her waist, resting over her belly. “and now… now we’re bringing two beautiful babies into this world. i watch you every day, y/n, and i see how strong you are. how you carry all of this with so much grace, even when it’s hard. you amaze me.”

trent paused, his voice growing more emotional. “there were moments when i didn’t think i deserved you. moments when i thought you’d be better off without me. but you stayed. you fought for us. and it made me fall in love with you all over again—not just for who you are, but for your strength, your resilience, the way you love with everything you have. and now… now i get to be a father because of you.”

y/n’s eyes were already welling with tears, her heart aching with the depth of his words. but trent wasn’t finished.

“i know i haven’t been perfect,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “i know i’ve made mistakes. but you—you never gave up on me. on us. and i want our kids to grow up knowing that love isn’t perfect, but it’s real. it’s something you fight for.”

trent’s voice dropped to a whisper, his thumb brushing softly over her belly. “i look at you, and i see the mother of my children. the love of my life. and i know now, more than ever, that i want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much you mean to me.”

before y/n could say anything, trent stepped back slightly, reaching into his pocket. her breath hitched as he dropped to one knee, pulling out a ring—new, yet so familiar.

"y/n," trent whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "will you finally let me be the husband you deserve? will you marry me, not just as the mother of our children, but as the woman who’s always had my heart? i don’t just want to be the father of our kids—I want to be the man you can count on, the man who spends every day of the rest of his life showing you how much you mean to me. not just now, but forever."

y/n’s heart shattered in the best way, her tears falling freely as she nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “yes, trent. yes, i’d marry you a thousand times.”

trent slipped the ring onto her finger, standing and pulling her into his arms. his lips met hers in a kiss that felt like home—like every promise they’d ever made, every vow they’d ever spoken, was wrapped in that one moment. they kissed as if the world had stopped turning, as if it was just the two of them, suspended in time.

when they finally pulled back, their foreheads pressed together, their breath mingling in the cool night air, trent whispered, “you’ve always been my everything, y/n. and you always will be.”

on the way home, neither could keep their hands to themselves, touching, brushing fingertips against skin, stealing soft, breathless kisses between stops at red lights. when they reached the door, it was as if a dam broke; trent pressed her against it, hands framing her face as he claimed her mouth with an intensity that had her clinging to him, breathless, as though the weeks apart had only deepened his hunger.

“are you okay?” he asked between fervent kisses, his voice rough, tinged with worry as his hands slipped down her sides, savoring every inch.

she looked up at him, voice barely a whisper, filled with need, “don’t hold back... i want you... i want to be with my fiancé.”

he let out a low, helpless groan, and she felt his resolve snap; without another word, he swept her into his arms, pressing another heated kiss to her lips as he carried her up the stairs. each step was a test of control, her arms wound tightly around his neck, her lips never parting from his as she tugged at him, desperate to close every inch between them.

inside the room, trent laid her down gently, his eyes darkening with a kind of reverence as he looked over her, one hand trailing down to where her stomach held the beginning of their future together. “my whole life is here with you,” he murmured, brushing his thumb tenderly over her stomach, his gaze never leaving her. “our twins... it’s unreal.”

the emotion in his voice stole her breath, his touch reverent, as though he were touching the most fragile thing in the world. she shivered, arching beneath his touch, feeling every word, every gentle stroke settle deep within her heart. “trent…” her voice broke, thick with the weight of her feelings, her fingers finding his face, tracing the line of his jaw as she gazed up at him with everything she had.

trent's hands roamed y/n's body like he couldn’t get enough, his fingers tracing every curve and dip, lingering over the soft swell of her stomach. it was still small, barely noticeable beneath his touch, but the idea of their baby growing inside her captivated him, a possessive hunger building deep within.

“you have no idea how obsessed i am with this,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, his lips brushing against the skin of her stomach as he kissed her there, right where their child was nestled. “with you. with our babies.”

y/n’s breath hitched, her fingers slipping into his hair, pulling him closer as she stared down at him, her heart racing. his words, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered, melted her insides. “trent…”

he pressed another kiss to her stomach, his hands sliding up to grip her hips, holding her firmly in place as he gazed up at her, his eyes dark and full of longing. “i think about it all the time,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “you carrying my babies… you have no idea what that does to me.”

the intensity in his gaze sent shivers down her spine, the heat of his breath igniting every nerve in her body. “i didn’t think you were this into it,” she admitted, her voice soft as she traced his jawline with her fingers, mesmerized by the fire ignited in his eyes.

trent chuckled, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed another kiss just below her navel, his fingers tightening on her hips. “i never stopped wanting you,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “even when you were away… every time i saw you, all i could think about was this. was you… with our babies.”

his words made her shiver, heat pooling low in her belly as she looked down at him, eyes wide with both surprise and longing. “you mean that?” she asked quietly, her fingers trailing over his shoulders, her heart racing as the air thickened with tension.

“every word,” trent whispered, his hands moving to cup her stomach gently, his thumb stroking over her skin with the utmost care. “i love you like this… knowing you’re carrying my child, that you’re ours now. completely.”

y/n felt her heart swell, breath catching in her throat as he spoke. the way he looked at her, the reverence in his touch, was overwhelming. she felt cherished, adored, and the possessiveness in his gaze only intensified her yearning. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her skin as his hands slid back up her body, pulling her closer until their faces were inches apart. “these babies… it makes me want you even more.”

“trent…” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with urgency.

“i want to be with you all the time,” he continued, his voice rough with need. “i think about you every second. about this.” his hands moved down to her hips again, fingers digging into her skin possessively as he pulled her flush against him, their bodies perfectly aligned, their breaths mingling. “and when i see you… looking like this, carrying our babies, it drives me crazy.”

the intensity of his words ignited a fire within her, her pulse quickening as she felt every inch of him, the raw hunger and love intertwining, consuming her. “you’re mine,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “both of you. always.”

y/n kissed him then, hard and deep, her hands slipping down his back, needing to feel him closer. she let herself get lost in him, in the warmth of his body against hers. trent groaned into the kiss, his hands tightening on her hips as he pulled her even closer, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony, their connection electric.

“i love you like this,” he murmured against her lips, voice thick with desire. “i love everything about you… everything about us.”

y/n's heart soared at his words, her breath coming in short, heated gasps as she pressed herself closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. “i love you too,” she whispered, voice trembling with longing. “always.”

trent’s lips moved to her neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to her skin as he shifted, rolling them over until he hovered above her, his eyes dark and filled with raw desire.

“i need to feel you,” he muttered, voice thick with need as he stared down at her, hands trailing over her stomach again, brushing over the small swell. “i want to be with you… completely.”

y/n’s breath hitched, heart racing as she stared up at him, body trembling with anticipation. “then take me,” she whispered, voice low but laced with longing, her hands gripping his shoulders, urging him closer.

trent groaned, lips crashing into hers, letting himself go as he surrendered to the fire building inside him. his hands roamed her body with a newfound urgency, igniting a heat that had been simmering for weeks. he wanted her, needed her, and the thought of her carrying his child only amplified the desire swirling within them.

“you’re my everything,” he whispered against her lips, voice thick with emotion as he moved with her, their bodies melting together in perfect sync. “forever.”

trent's breath was ragged as he moved with her, fingers tightening on her hips as he groaned into her ear. his forehead pressed against hers, their bodies entwined, the room filled with nothing but their heavy breathing and the raw heat between them.

his gaze fell to her hand, to the ring gleaming on her finger, and his heart swelled with a mix of love and desire. a soft, breathless laugh escaped his lips, brushing his thumb over the ring as they moved together, a relentless dance of passion. “i’d marry you tomorrow, you know,” he muttered, voice husky and sincere as he kissed her deeper, wanting her to feel every ounce of love he held for her. “if you didn’t want that big wedding… i’d have you as mine right now.”

y/n barely registered his words, lost in the moment, her mind hazy with the intensity of it all. her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding on as though he was her only anchor, her lips parting to let out a soft moan.

trent groaned, lips brushing the shell of her ear, planting hot kisses along her neck. “maybe we skip it all, yeah? we don’t need the fancy day… i just need you. you and our babies.” his teeth grazed her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. “we can make it official right now, y/n. i’ll take care of everything.”

she gasped, the heat of his words igniting her, her body trembling beneath his touch. "my baby is speechless. so lost in this, huh?” he whispered, voice low and teasing, lips brushing against the side of her neck. “can’t even answer me."

y/n whimpered at his words, her body arching against his as she clung to him, overwhelmed by the intensity of their connection. trent’s touch was electrifying, his every word making her feel cherished, desired, and utterly consumed by him. she could barely think, her mind hazy with the warmth of his skin against hers, the way their bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

“trent…” she breathed out, her voice trembling as her hands slid down his back, desperate to feel him closer, to hold onto this moment and never let it go. “i… i can’t think when you’re like this.”

he smirked against her skin, lips trailing down her neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses as he pressed his body more firmly against hers. “good,” he whispered, voice low and rough, filled with satisfaction at the effect he had on her. “don’t think, baby. just feel.”

and she did. she felt everything—the heat of his breath on her skin, the way his hands caressed every curve of her body, the way their hearts seemed to beat in time with each other. she felt the weight of his love in every touch, every whispered word, as though he was pouring all of himself into her, claiming her in the most intimate way.

her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she tilted her head back, giving him better access to her neck. trent took the invitation, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire along her skin, making her gasp and arch into him.

“you drive me insane,” he muttered against her skin, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and adoration. “every time i look at you… i want you more.”

y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her breathing coming in ragged gasps as his words wrapped around her like a tight coil. she was lost in him, in the way his body pressed against hers, in the way he made her feel so utterly wanted.

“i’m yours,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but she knew he heard her by the way his grip tightened on her hips, pulling her even closer.

trent lifted his head, his gaze locking with hers, his eyes dark and filled with emotion. “say it again,” he demanded softly, his voice thick with need as he hovered above her, every inch of him vibrating with tension. “i need to hear it.”

y/n swallowed hard, her breath catching as she looked up at him, her heart swelling with love, with desire, with the undeniable connection they shared. “i’m yours, trent,” she whispered again, her hands cupping his face, her thumbs brushing gently over his cheeks as she stared into his eyes. “always.”

trent groaned, his lips crashing into hers, their kiss urgent and consuming, filled with all the passion and love they had for each other. his hands roamed her body, gripping her hips, pulling her even closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a heated dance that left her breathless.

trent’s hand traced the outline of her face with reverence, his fingers trembling slightly as though he couldn’t believe she was truly here, in his arms again. he stared at her, eyes dark and brimming with emotions he’d held back for too long. the look in his gaze, intense and brimming with longing, was enough to leave her breathless, her heart racing with the sheer weight of what lay unspoken between them.

“i missed everything about you,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, each word carrying the weight of the days and nights he’d spent without her. “your laugh, the way you look at me… just having you beside me, y/n.” his hand splayed across her back, pulling her closer, as though afraid she’d slip away if he let go.

the air between them grew heavy, thick with a need neither could hide any longer. he kissed her, soft and slow at first, savoring every second, as though he was memorizing every detail of her taste, her warmth, the familiar way her lips parted beneath his. his grip tightened on her waist, his fingers pressing into her as if anchoring himself, grounding himself in her, letting the sheer presence of her melt away all the distance, all the loneliness.

y/n’s hands found their way to his face, her fingers trailing over his jaw, tracing every contour, every familiar line. “i thought about you every night,” she whispered, her voice shaky, her words a confession as she leaned into him, her body fitting perfectly against his. “i’d fall asleep trying to remember what it felt like to have you close… it felt like you were just slipping away.”

trent’s breath hitched, and he pulled back just enough to look at her, his thumb brushing over her cheek, gentle yet desperate. “you’re my everything,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with an aching intensity. “you, our babies… all i wanted was to come back to you, but now i can’t wait anymore.”

his words ignited a fire within her, a desperate need that had been building up since the moment he’d left. her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him down, her lips crashing against his with a fervor that matched his own. every kiss, every brush of his skin against hers, was filled with all the moments they’d lost, all the yearning they hadn’t dared to voice.

“i need you,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice trembling with the weight of it, her heart pounding wildly as he wrapped his arms around her, his touch firm, grounding, real.

he responded with a low groan, his body pressing against hers with an urgency that spoke of the weeks they’d been apart, the nights he’d lain awake thinking of her, the ache that only grew with each passing day. “you’re everything to me… you and our babies,” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with love, each word a promise. his lips brushed against hers, insistent, pouring every ounce of love and longing he had into each kiss, his movements growing more fervent as if he could somehow make up for every second they’d lost.

they moved together with a rhythm that was both tender and desperate, each touch, each kiss an affirmation of the love that bound them together, their connection deeper than words could ever convey. the heat between them built, igniting like wildfire as their breaths mingled, filling the room with the raw, electric energy of two souls reuniting, of two people who had been kept apart far too long.

her fingers trailed down his back, pulling him closer, pressing herself against him, each movement charged with the love and longing that had built up in his absence. “i can’t let you go again,” she murmured, her voice breathless, filled with a vulnerability she could no longer hide.

trent’s gaze softened, his eyes dark with love as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his hands holding her like she was the most precious thing in his world. “you’ll never have to,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m here… for you, for them, for us. nothing’s ever taking me away again.”

they moved together in a slow, passionate rhythm, each touch an unspoken vow, each kiss a promise to cherish every second they had, to hold on tight and never let go. the intensity of their love, the rawness of their need, filled every corner of the room as they gave themselves to each other, finally, fully, and without reservation.

their desire for each other overwhelming as the heat between them built to an unbearable level. trent’s hands slid under her thighs, lifting her effortlessly as he pressed her against the bed, his body fitting perfectly against hers, their breaths mingling as their lips never parted.

“i love you,” he whispered against her lips, his voice hoarse and filled with emotion. “you and our baby… you’re everything to me.”

y/n's heart swelled at his words, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she pulled him closer, her fingers gripping his shoulders tightly. “i love you too,” she breathed, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions. “so much.”

and with that, they lost themselves in each other completely, their bodies and hearts entwined, every touch, every kiss, every whispered word a testament to the love they shared. nothing else mattered in that moment—just the two of them, their connection, and the overwhelming sense of belonging they felt in each other’s arms. the room was filled with the quiet hum of their breaths, the intensity of their passion giving way to a peaceful calm as they settled into the warmth of each other.

slowly, their movements slowed, the heat between them melting into something softer, more intimate. y/n curled against trent’s chest, her fingers tracing gentle patterns along his skin as his hand

they stayed in the quiet, warm comfort of each other for a moment longer, their hearts slowing as they savored the intimacy. trent’s hand never stopped moving, fingers tracing over her back, soothing and protective, grounding her in the present.

eventually, y/n lifted her head slightly, resting her chin on his chest as she looked up at him, her eyes soft but filled with curiosity. “do you really want to elope?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the question hanging in the air as her fingers absentmindedly traced over the ring on her finger.

trent glanced down at her, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, but the seriousness in his gaze made her heart skip a beat. “i mean it,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “i don’t need a big wedding, y/n. i just need you. i’d marry you right now if i could.”

y/n’s breath hitched, her fingers stilling as she stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. “you really mean that,” she whispered, more a statement than a question.

trent nodded, reaching down to cup her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek in a tender gesture. “i’ve never been more serious,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers. “i don’t care about the big day, the flowers, or the crowd. i just want you. i want us to start our life together as soon as we can.”

she shifted slightly, resting her head back against his chest as his thumb continued its soothing path over her skin. “i love the idea of it,” she admitted quietly. “but… our families. i can’t imagine doing it without them. they’d never forgive us, you know.”

trent chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “yeah, i thought about that too,” he sighed. “they’d probably never let us live it down. especially your mom—she’d have me on the phone every day.”

y/n giggled, picturing her mom’s reaction if they ran off to get married without telling her. “she’d definitely give you an earful,” she teased, looking up at him with a soft smile. “and your family… they’d want to celebrate too.”

he nodded, his eyes reflecting the same understanding. “you’re right,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “we can’t forget about them. they deserve to be there when it happens.”

y/n’s fingers traced the lines of his jaw as she sighed softly. “so, maybe we take our time,” she suggested, her voice thoughtful. “wait until the next break… if your incredibly talented self doesn’t get called up again.”

trent smirked, rolling his eyes playfully. “oh, here we go,” he teased, lightly nudging her. “humble as always, aren’t we?”

“hey, i’m just being honest,” y/n laughed, her voice light and teasing as she pressed a kiss to his chest. “i know how busy things get for you. between the season and everything else… maybe it’s better to wait.”

trent sighed, pulling her closer as his hand slid up to tangle in her hair. “you’re probably right,” he admitted softly, his fingers brushing through her braids. “we’ll wait. but don’t think i’m not serious about marrying you as soon as we get the chance.”

y/n’s heart warmed at his words, her eyes meeting his as she felt the certainty in his gaze. “i know,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with love. “and when the time’s right, we’ll do it. with our families there… and maybe a bit of elopement magic mixed in.”

trent grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned in to kiss her. “sounds like a plan, mrs. alexander-arnold,” he murmured against her lips, his voice full of affection.

she smiled into the kiss, the future feeling brighter than ever as they held each other, the idea of their wedding—whenever it came—something they would cherish forever.

and as they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the thought of eloping lingered like a quiet promise, foreshadowing a day they both knew would come when the timing was just right.

the evening was quiet, the soft glow from the television casting shadows across the room, but neither of them was paying attention to it. y/n sat curled up on the couch, her legs stretched out, resting in trent’s lap. his hand moved gently along her ankle, the touch soothing, but there was a weight in the air—something that had been there for months but felt different tonight.

she bit her lip, glancing at him from under her lashes, and when he met her gaze, she saw it—the same unspoken thoughts swimming in his eyes. she shifted slightly, her fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt, her heart racing with the question she had been holding onto for so long.

"trent," she whispered, her voice barely breaking the silence between them.

his hand stilled on her ankle, his full attention on her now. "yeah?" his voice was soft, but there was a cautiousness in it, like he already knew something was coming.

she took a deep breath, her fingers twisting together nervously. "i’ve been thinking… about the proposal." the words hung heavy in the air between them, and she watched as trent’s brow furrowed slightly, his grip on her foot tightening just a fraction.

"what about it?" he asked, his voice still calm, but she could see the worry flicker in his eyes.

y/n hesitated, trying to gather her thoughts. "i just don’t understand why you did it… when you were in such a dark place," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "it didn’t feel like the right time for us, and i’ve been wondering… why then?"

trent’s gaze dropped to her legs in his lap, his hand resuming its gentle path along her skin, as if the motion helped him think. "i thought it might fix things," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost like he was ashamed to say it. "but that wasn’t the main reason."

she waited, her heart pounding as she watched him, needing him to explain, needing to hear the truth.

trent exhaled slowly, his eyes lifting to meet hers, the vulnerability in his expression breaking down the walls she’d built in her mind. "you were my lifeline," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "when everything else felt like it was falling apart—football, the pressure, the noise from the media—you were the one thing that kept me grounded. every time i’d walk through the door after the worst day, i’d see you, and it was like… it all got quiet. you made it all go away."

y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her heart aching at his words. she hadn’t known, hadn’t realized how much he had needed her, even when he had been pulling away.

"but you were distant," she whispered, her voice trembling. "you weren’t… you weren’t yourself. i thought you didn’t want me anymore."

trent shook his head, his grip on her leg tightening as if he needed to hold onto her, to keep her close. "i know i pulled away, and i hate that i made you feel like that," he said, his voice raw. "but every night, when i came home, no matter how tired or stressed i was, i knew you’d be waiting for me. whether it was a light kiss or… or something more, you were always there. and in those moments, the weight didn’t feel so heavy anymore."

her throat tightened, tears pricking at her eyes as she listened to him, realizing how much she had meant to him, even when she’d felt like they were falling apart.

"and you still want all that with me?" she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper, but the vulnerability in her question was unmistakable.

trent’s eyes softened, and he nodded, his thumb brushing gently over her ankle. "i want everything with you," he said, his voice filled with certainty. "you, our babiess… our family. i want it all. i want to marry you because you’re my home, y/n. you always have been."

her heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice breaking down every doubt she had carried. she blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, her fingers reaching out to tangle with his. "i guess we did things a little backward," she whispered with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "should’ve gotten married first."

trent chuckled softly, his hand moving to cradle her foot in his lap. "yeah, well, knowing me, i had to make it more complicated," he teased, but his eyes were still filled with emotion, with love.

y/n shifted slightly, her other hand coming to rest on her belly, her fingers tracing small circles over the bump that was just beginning to show. "so, what about baby names?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was a playful glint in her eyes.

trent raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "you’ve thought of some already?"

she swallowed, glancing down at him, her fingers resuming their soothing motion. "i want one of our sons to have your initials... t.a.a.," she said, her voice a mixture of warmth and certainty, even as she saw his expression shift with uncertainty.

trent’s gaze dropped, his jaw tightening slightly as he seemed to wrestle with the idea. "y/n… i don’t know if that's fair to him," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. "i don’t want him to feel like he has to carry that weight, like he’s got to be anything more than who he is… like he has to be like me."

she reached for his hand, her fingers weaving through his as she brought it to her lap, resting it over her heart. "trent, listen to me," she whispered, leaning down so their foreheads almost touched. "our son won’t have to live up to anything other than what he wants to be… because of you. you have a heart so full of kindness, patience, and love. that’s what he’ll see. he won’t admire you because you’re a footballer; he’ll admire you because you’re his dad."

he exhaled, a shuddering breath escaping him as her words sank in. "but the pressure… what if he feels like he has to follow in my footsteps, like he’s got no choice but to be in the spotlight, to face everything i went through?" his voice broke slightly, revealing a vulnerability he rarely shared.

she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing against his cheeks as she spoke. "he’ll look up to you because of who you are, not because of what you do," she said firmly. "and you would never let anyone or anything force him to be something he’s not. our son will have his own dreams… and with you as his dad, he’ll have the courage to chase them, whatever they are. you’ll give him that, trent."

he looked at her, his eyes glistening with the weight of her words, and for a moment, the fear melted away, replaced by something warmer, something closer to hope. "and you really believe that?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, as if he needed her to believe it for him.

"i do," she nodded, her voice unwavering. "i believe it with everything in me. you’re going to be an incredible father… and our son is going to love and admire you for all the right reasons."

trent closed his eyes, his hand gripping hers tightly as he let her words sink in. for the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of peace, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be passing on any burdens.

"so," she whispered, her voice softening, "what do you think about tatum? tatum alexander-arnold." her smile was soft, her thumb brushing over his knuckles, grounding them both in this gentle, quiet moment.

trent’s smile grew, a lightness filling his eyes as he repeated the name, testing it. "tatum alexander-arnold," he murmured, the syllables like a promise. "yeah… yeah, i like it."

y/n’s heart fluttered at his reaction, her hand squeezing his gently. "and what if we get girls" she asked with a teasing grin. "you get to name our princesses, right?"

trent smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes, but there was something deeper there, too. "yeah," he said quietly, his voice softening. "i’ve been thinking about that for a while, actually."

y/n tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "oh? do you already have a name? what’s the name you’ve been keeping to yourself?"

trent looked at her for a long moment, his hand still resting on her leg, his gaze tender. "rowan," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "after your aunt."

y/n’s breath caught, her chest tightening at the mention of her late aunt, someone she had been so close to, someone who had been like a second mother to her. she blinked back the sudden rush of tears, her heart swelling with emotion as she looked at trent. "rowan…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "you remembered?"

trent nodded, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. "i remember how much she meant to you," he said softly. "and i got to spend time with her before she passed… i remember the way she looked at me and said, 'take care of her. protect her.'"

y/n swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears as she leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands, her forehead resting against his. "you’re gonna be the best dad," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "our kids are gonna have the best parts of you… the parts that make you who you are."

trent’s eyes fluttered closed, his hands coming up to cradle her face as well, his heart pounding in his chest. "and you," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers lightly. "they’ll have the best parts of you, too."

she smiled softly, her tears mingling with his as she pressed her lips to his in a slow, tender kiss, the promise of their future wrapped in every touch, every whispered word.

when they pulled back, their foreheads still resting together, y/n felt a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in so long. "you know," she whispered, her voice soft but playful. "we’re really doing this backward. baby first, marriage later."

trent laughed softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "guess that’s just how we do things," he teased, his eyes shining with love.

y/n chuckled, her hand resting over his heart. "i want them to have your name," she said softly, her voice more serious now. "tatum alexander-arnold, rowan alexander-arnold… i want them to carry your name."

trent smiled, a sense of peace settling over him as he looked at her, his heart so full it felt like it could barely contain it. "tatum and rowan…" he murmured, his smile widening. "that sounds perfect."

y/n nodded, her hand squeezing his. "it does," she whispered, her eyes shining with love.

and in that moment, trent knew—he had everything he could ever want, right here, in this room, in her arms.

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