#i just listening these songs over and over again

[coryndoll]

in which you’re a rising music star who navigates playful tension with actor drew starkey, and your flirtation turns into something deeper amid a viral music video and your grammy win.

content: diff style writing, drew being cute n following readers lead for the mv

authors note: will lowkey write a part 2 and/or the music video version of this if requested but idk, hopefully it was kinda understandable!! i just wanted the pov as if u were watching the yt video for the behind the scenes footage omg

you’ve known of drew starkey—how could you not? he’s a rising star, a name that keeps getting bigger, a face that’s starting to dominate everyone’s celebrity crush list whenever you scroll through tiktok. the kind of guy that gets cast in fan-favorite shows, whose off-screen personality makes people love him even more. charming, funny, effortlessly likable. he’s everywhere.

but what you couldn’t have imagined is that he knew of you first.

it started small, almost too subtle to notice. a clip of him in an interview, sitting back in his chair, nodding as he listens to a question before casually mentioning that he had just discovered a new artist, you, and couldn’t stop listening. he called your music addictive, something about the way you write lyrics just clicked with him. maybe it would’ve gone unnoticed if he hadn’t mentioned it again.

a month later, another interview, another confession. a different setting, a different outfit, but the same topic. only this time, the interviewer caught onto it.

“seems like you’re a fan.”

drew, red in the face, grinning but flustered, just said, “yeah. yeah, i am.”

he didn’t say much else, but he didn’t have to. the internet picked up on the pattern. his name was suddenly linked to yours, your fans and his fans overlapping, people tweeting at you to collab when?, digging through every interview and live stream to see if he’d mention you again. edits of him set to your songs started appearing on every social media feed. some even made it look like you were the leads in some slow-burn romance movie, just from your music videos and his show clips.

and you? you didn’t think much of it. it was flattering, sure. entertaining, even. but you’d never spoken, never met, never had a reason to. it was just one of those internet things, something people liked to fantasize about but wasn’t real.

until about a year ago.

red carpet event, flashing cameras, voices shouting your name. you were mid-step, smiling for a picture when an interviewer stopped you, microphone extended.

“if you win tonight, who’s getting the first thank-you?”

you barely thought about it. “oh, obviously. my parents, my team, everyone who worked on the album . . .” a pause, a flicker of mischief as the words slipped out. “and drew starkey!”

then you scurried off, leaving the interviewer blinking after you. you didn’t look back, but you knew exactly what you’d just done. by the time you got home, twitter had already lost its mind.

so with all that history, all those years of almosts, how could you not end 2024 and start 2025 with a steamy, intimate music video starring your one and only secret admirer?

the behind-the-scenes video you upload to youtube starts with a simple title card—bts: filming my new music video with bae—before fading into a clip of you on set, bundled up in a puffer jacket, arms wide as you greet drew with an easy, “hi!”

it’s the first time meeting him in person. you’ve known of him, obviously, but standing here now, seeing the way his face lights up at the sight of you, it’s different. the camera catches his initial reaction. he smiles wide, like he’s trying to keep himself from grinning too hard, nodding like he’s trying to play it cool. you hug, brief but natural, before the video cuts to your interview.

you’re curled up in your seat, dressed down in sweats, looking entirely comfortable in front of the camera like you’ve done this a hundred times before. one leg is crossed over the other, your head rests against your palm, and the other hand is tucked between your thighs, playing absentmindedly with the fabric of your hoodie. you’re practically beaming as you talk.

“he’s cute. but no, getting drew to agree to the video was no problem,” you admit, a small laugh slipping through. “it just made sense. everybody on twitter and everybody on tiktok can calm down now.”

you grin at the camera before adding, “plus, my mom loved his last movie.”

your friend behind the camera immediately jumps in, amused. “did she?”

you snicker, nodding your head like the answer is obvious. you don’t even need to say anything. your smile says it all.

cut to: on set at night.

you stand close to drew, explaining your vision, the two of you tucked into a quiet corner of the closed-off street. it’s late. you’re talking, hands moving as you try to get the words out just right, and drew listens intently, nodding along, before huffing out a laugh at something you say.

the next shot is of you in position, standing just outside the entrance of a nightclub. the scene is meant to be electric, with the music pounding inside, the city buzzing around you. you refilm the shot a few times, stepping out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, pausing just as drew and ‘his group of friends’ step onto the curb from their car. the camera zooms in on your expression, catching the exact moment your character notices him.

you give him a look, one of intrigue, curiosity, a silent pull that makes drew’s character do a double take as he follows his friends inside. but as you turn and walk away, he hesitates. his friends don’t notice, but the audience is supposed to.

although the music is supposed to cut through, they’ll be able to see him say the words, “wait up for me, i’ll catch up.”

he stays behind. he follows you.

the cameras catch him walking past the frame, but in the behind-the-scenes footage, you’re already waiting for him off-camera. you’re standing just around the corner, out of sight, and the second he’s done with his take, he breaks into a grin, beaming as he jogs over to you.

“was that good?” he asks, a little breathless, still caught in the rush of the scene.

and off-camera, you laugh.

the next shot starts with a handheld camera capturing you inside a dimly lit bar, the neon glow from the signs reflecting off the polished counter. you’re perched on a stool, fingers curled around a glass, not drinking, just holding it for the scene, your expression unreadable as the camera focuses on you. the shot lasts for only a moment before it abruptly cuts away.

to: drew’s micro interview.

he’s leaned back in his chair, relaxed, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes, something playful lurking beneath his words. “she made me flustered super easily, yeah,” he confesses, mouth curving into a smirk as he glances off-camera toward your friend conducting the interviews. “she just has that effect to her.”

to: the first night scene.

this time, the energy is entirely different. the camera moves with purpose, following drew as he catches up to you, his hand grasping your arm, tugging you into another alleyway. the moment is fast, urgent, his body pressing yours up against the cool brick wall, his lips finding yours without hesitation.

the camera doesn’t linger on the kiss itself. instead, it captures the details, like the way drew’s fingers tighten around the fabric of your clothes, the way your hand slips into the back of his hair, curling at the nape of his neck. the shot pans downward, exposing the closeness between your bodies, the breathlessness of it all, before the scene suddenly fades.

you’re sitting up straighter this time in your interview immediately after the clip, legs crossed, hands in your lap, but there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. your tongue presses against your top teeth as you chuckle, fully aware of what you’ve just filmed. you don’t say much, but the knowing look on your face says enough.

the final shot of this segment shows you and drew after the director calls cut, the tension immediately breaking as laughter spills between you. you pull away first, eyes bright as you turn toward the monitors, eager to check the footage.

drew, still lingering in place, rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, watching you for a beat before finally trailing after you, taking his time.

the next shot follows your character, leading drew by the hand, weaving through the streetlights, your destination clear in your mind, and you toss him the car keys without hesitation. drew catches them, glancing between you and the keys in his hand, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. the trust is unexpected, almost daring. but after a brief hesitation, he gives in, climbing into the driver’s seat while you swing into the passenger side, watching him with a smirk.

the screen quickly shifts to behind-the-scenes footage—handheld, slightly shaky, like a friend capturing the moment on their phone. you lean halfway out of the car window, hair tousled from the wind. your voice is light, playful, as you drag out the words dramatically, “we’ve been filming for the last six hours! i wanna go home.”

you make a face at the camera, and off-screen laughter follows. just as the camera pans back toward the car, drew reappears, slipping into the driver’s seat after what was clearly a break. he clocks the camera almost immediately, smiling as he watches you slide back inside, adjusting in your seat like you’re preparing for another take.

to: the car scene.

you're in the passenger seat, lip-syncing the lyrics, the camera catching you. your expression shifts between something teasing and something more heated, fingers toying with the hem of your dress as drew grips the wheel beside you.

then, another interview clip overlays the scene. you sit comfortably, your grin almost mischievous as you speak, “i wanted this music video to be very, very horny. like, so horny but also so fun, and freeing too.”

you pause, laughing as you push your hair back, “i really wanted to capture that feeling of instant attraction. like, that moment when you lock eyes with someone across the room and just know something’s about to happen. the whole video is about chasing that rush, that tension of being drawn to someone you shouldn’t want but not being able to stop yourself.”

“so, yeah. i wanted it to feel intense, a little dangerous, a little intoxicating . . . like a night you’ll never forget, even if it only lasts ‘til sunrise.”

it cuts to a different segment of the micro interview. you’re sitting casually, your thumb nail between your teeth as you listen to your friend. the vibe is lighthearted, almost too laid-back, until your friend says, “you should call him if you win that grammy.”

you freeze for a second, eyes widening slightly, then burst out laughing. sitting up straighter, you give her a look, almost like she’s lost their mind, “are you serious?”

the final shot in the behind-the-scenes video captures you dramatically collapsing onto the mock-bedroom set, letting out an exaggerated groan as you flop onto the bed, completely wiped from weeks of filming. you’re on your back, hair splayed out around you like a halo, eyes half-closed as the exhaustion hits you full force.

drew, on the other hand, leans back against the headboard, legs sprawled out casually as if he could take on another round of filming, but still, his hand reaches out, and you take it without hesitation. your hands clasp in a silent victory, both of you relishing in the fact that you’ve wrapped up the last take of the day.

“is that it?” you ask, glancing at the crew who are already packing up, and when they confirm it, a smile breaks across your face. you raise a fist in the air, a mock victory pose, causing a few of the crew members to chuckle behind the camera.

the camera cuts back to you, but just a few minutes later, still lounging on the bed with drew, who’s now looking at you with that signature grin of his. you sit up, stretching your arms over your head, and your voice is light as you ask, “was that fun?” you’re genuinely checking in, making sure drew’s feeling good after all the intense shots.

drew pauses for a beat, then lets out a little laugh, clearly still feeling the buzz from the shoot. “i had . . . a blast,” he says, but there’s something about the way he says it, maybe it’s the glint in his eyes or the slight inflection in his voice, that makes you burst out laughing.

you start to get up from the bed, your laugh still lingering in the air as you move out of the frame. the camera stays on drew as he watches you go, looking like he’s still processing the day. just as you move out of view, someone walks in from the side to start cleaning up the set, but drew doesn’t miss a beat.

“i’m being so honest right now, dude,” he says, his grin turning playful, and you hear the laughter behind the camera as they capture this moment.

after the music video shoot wraps, you and drew keep in touch. with the release of the video just around the corner, your team suggests posting a teaser to build hype on social media. it’s the perfect opportunity, so you agree.

another mini shoot is set up for the teaser. drew and his team arrive, and even though this shoot is way more relaxed than the last one, the excitement is still palpable. you’re going to film a short, tantalizing snippet.

the plan is for the camera to follow your feet clicking against the floor as you walk down a hallway, but your face won’t be seen. you stop in front of a door and knock before the cameras on you now.

the moment the door opens, your smile is real as you grab his hand. you pull him with you down the hall, and the camera focuses on the back of his head, leaving fans to wonder who he is. as you pass the wall, the words of the song title come to life to tease which song its for.

as soon as the video drops, the internet blows up. fans can’t stop guessing who your mystery man is.

‘ its drew isnt it ’

‘ PLEASE TELL ME THATS WHO I RHKNK IT IS ’

‘ y/n y/l/n u did NOT. ’

others speculate wildly, throwing out all kinds of guesses. you both meet up to hang out during the lead-up to your album release, laughing about the crazy theories online. some fans are dead sure it’s him, while others debate who it could be. the excitement only grows, and you secretly enjoy the fun of keeping them guessing.

but everything falls into place when you win that grammy. it’s the culmination of everything you’ve worked so hard for, and as the announcement echoes through the room, you’re overwhelmed with emotions. you honestly didn’t expect this, especially as a first-timer. they are hard to come by, and you’re honestly convinced this is going to be your one and only.

the wave of emotion hits you as you hug your loved ones, the tears welling up in your eyes. you quickly pat under your eyes with your fingers, trying to compose yourself as you walk toward the stage. all eyes are on you, and the spotlight is so bright you almost can’t bear to look directly at it.

you hold the grammy in your hands, trying to keep your composure as you deliver the half-planned speech you’d scribbled down earlier. it’s all so surreal.

“god, i actually thought i was about to pass out when they said my name,” you admit, and the audience of familiar faces laughs.

“i just can’t believe i’m standing here right now, receiving this. i have poured my heart into this album, into my music, and i never imagined it would lead me here. to my team and family, you’re the reason this dream is even possible. to my fans, thank you for making this journey so worth it. this award is for us. i love you all, and i’ll keep making music as long as you’ll keep listening. thank you all so much.”

eventually you’re off the stage and sitting at your table, still processing everything that's just happened. there are few who still congratulate you from their seats around you. your friend, sitting beside you, gives you a look, the kind that says it all. you know what to do.

you hesitate. was she serious about what she said before about if you won? you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the pull of it. you grab your phone and turn it on briefly, waiting for an appropriate moment. your thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment before you type out the message to drew:

hey. can i call u tonight?

a/n: such an abrupt ending LOL but i have to cut it off here bc i have my first day of my new class tmr n im supposed to get up in 2 hours 💔 ILL REWRITE THIS OR DO A PART 2 IF I REREAD THIS LATER N NOT LIKE IT

[inkedinshadows]

Helloooo hope you’re doing well 💝💗

I was wondering if you can write for azriel ( from the prompt list) 2 and 4? I think it would be such a cute idea, and you would write it so well (love u)

thanks for ur time!! 💝💝

Life's Bright Side

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

A/N: I love u too anon, I'm doing well and I hope you are too 🫶🏻 I had so much fun writing this one and it didn't even take me that long bc one thing about me is that I'm a sucker for slice of life 🤭

Prompts: "Baby, I love you, but please go to bed."* + "You're always so cheerful... it's kind of adorable."

Warnings: none, just fluff

Word count: 1.1k

*had to change it to "go to sleep", hope you don't mind <3

Azriel had never understood how you did it.

Your day had been a long one. He hated the Court of Nightmares, but more than that, he loathed seeing you in such a place. His bubbly, chirpy mate didn't belong among those cruel, scheming people.

Yet you never let the occasional visits bother you. While he returned from the Hewn City brooding and in a foul mood, you were the opposite.

He watched as you danced through the room, the dim light catching on the sparkly black dress you were still wearing. You were softly humming a melody to yourself, a simple tune you had picked up yesterday while strolling along the Sidra with him.

A small smile tugged at Azriel’s lips. Even without trying, you always managed to lift his spirits. His shadows were already swaying in time with your song.

He remained silent as he undressed, listening as your humming turned into quiet singing—whispered words he couldn't quite make out, but he was fairly sure you were making them up as you went.

When he looked back up after pulling on his sleeping clothes, your dress had been exchanged for a nightgown and you were perched at the vanity table to remove your makeup. One leg crossed over the other, your foot bounced in time with your tune.

“How do you do that?” he asked, unable to stop himself.

Your eyes met his in the mirror, a small smile forming as you wiped the cotton pad over one eye. “Do what?”

Azriel shrugged, stepping up behind you just as you stood. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“You’re always so cheerful,” he murmured, meeting your gaze in the mirror again. His lips quirked. “It’s kind of adorable.”

You chuckled before turning in his arms. “Life's too short to be grumpy and pessimistic.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you added, “You should try it sometimes, my love.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He leaned down to stop your teasing with another kiss, but you slipped out of his grasp and padded toward the bathroom.

“Baby, you're immortal,” he pointed out, following you to lean against the doorframe while you washed your face. “How is life too short?”

“Well, it's not,” you conceded, turning off the faucet. Azriel waited patiently as you dried your face before you continued. “But maybe tomorrow a vase will fall from a balcony while I'm walking underneath it, hit me in the head, and kill me instantly.”

Azriel raised a brow.

“What?” you said with a smile. “You never know. Just because it's unlikely doesn't mean it's impossible.”

He shook his head, but he couldn't stop the slow smile forming on his face. “I'm beginning to think you're crazy. Not cheerful, just straight-up crazy.”

“And it took you this long to figure that out?” You grinned, patting his arm as you tried to slip past him.

Tried, because Azriel caught you before you could, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against him. A sound that was both a laugh and a yelp escaped you as he lifted you without warning.

“Listen,” you tried to defend yourself, though it was hard to speak between fits of laughter. “All I'm saying is that everything has a bright side. We just have to look for it.”

Azriel carried you to the bed, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. Gently, he lowered you onto the mattress and leaned over you.

“Oh yeah?” he mused. “So what's the bright side of a vase falling on your head?”

You shoot him an incredulous look. “It made you laugh,” you said simply. “You picked me up and carried me to bed. And now you're on top of me. It’s my favorite position, I'll remind you.”

Azriel’s low chuckle skittered along your skin. “This is not your favorite position, my love.”

You grinned. “You know me so well.”

With a shake of his head, he shifted off you and lay beside you, pulling the blankets over you both as you reached to turn off the lights.

In the dark, you nestled close to him. Your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you, and you reached down to intertwine your fingers with his. Your thumb traced slow, idle circles over the back of his hand.

“Did it work though?” you whispered into the quiet. “Did I get your mind off the Hewn City?”

Azriel breathed in the delicate scent of your shampoo as he brushed a kiss to your shoulder. “You did. Thank you, my love.”

“I could always give you something else to think about if you need it,” you suggested.

He didn't, actually. But something in your tone—the slight note of amusement, perhaps—made him question what you were up to.

“Is it going to be another one of your ridiculous questions?”

He could picture your smile as you replied, “Maybe. Do you want to hear it?”

Azriel took a deep breath, knowing he would regret it but still curious to find out what you'd come up with this time. “Let's hear it.”

You didn't answer right away. He felt you squirm slightly in his arms and realized you were trying to stifle your giggles. When you finally settled enough to speak, your voice was so pensive that Azriel braced himself.

“If you wake up tomorrow,” you began, “and find out I've been turned into a giant spider, what would you do?”

Azriel sighed. This was his fault, after all. He had encouraged you.

“That's even worse than the last one,” he muttered.

“You said I would make a lovely worm.” You hummed. “But what about a huge spider? Or wait, even better, a Middengard Wyrm?”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer. “Baby, I love you, but please go to sleep,” he murmured, though his lips betrayed him with a faint smile.

Your soft laugh echoed in the silence. “Alright, alright,” you conceded. Azriel thought that was it, until you added, “The question is trickier and you need to think about it. I get it. You can tell me the answer in the morning.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but his smile was now impossible to hide. You felt it against your skin as he kissed the nape of your neck.

If entertaining your nonsense questions before falling asleep was the price he had to pay to be with you, then he'd gladly endure them again and again just to spend another night by your side.

It was just like you'd said. Everything had a bright side if only he looked for it.

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1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[bumdlybeachbro]

This cycle of exhaustion, avoidance, and frustration is something a lot of people struggle with, and at its core, it comes down to energy management and fulfillment.

Here’s the thing: Work drains energy, and hobbies require energy. If your job is taking so much that you feel like you have nothing left for the things you love, the problem isn’t just “being tired.” The problem is how you’re recharging and how fulfilling your life outside of work is.

Breaking the Cycle

Recognize What You’re Sacrificing When we avoid hobbies because they feel like "work," what we’re really doing is choosing short-term rest over long-term fulfillment. That rest might feel good in the moment, but it leaves us feeling empty because we aren’t engaging with the things that make life enjoyable.

Make Hobbies Easier Your brain sees your hobby as “effort,” so make it effortless. Instead of "I have to do a full session," tell yourself, "I’ll just do 5 minutes." Instead of setting up a whole workspace, make your hobby accessible in small bursts. Lowering the barrier makes it easier to start, and once you start, momentum takes over.

Stop Using Work as the Default If all you do is work, then "not working" just feels like waiting for work to start again. That makes time off feel pointless, which fuels this cycle. Plan small moments of intentional joy: Listen to a song you love, read one page of a book, watch a 5-minute video that inspires you. Even tiny doses of pleasure break the monotony and remind your brain that life isn’t just labor.

Check for Burnout If even the things you love feel draining, that’s a burnout warning sign. Are you constantly exhausted, even after rest? Do you feel emotionally numb or detached? Does everything feel pointless, even things that used to excite you? If yes, you might need deeper recovery, not just more free time.

Redefine Productivity We’re conditioned to see anything that isn’t work as "wasted time", which makes hobbies feel like a luxury instead of a necessity. Shift your mindset: Your hobbies are not optional—they’re the fuel that keeps you going. Doing things you love is productive because it builds the energy and passion that make everything else easier.

Final Thought

This cycle won’t break itself. If you’re waiting to "feel like it," you’ll be stuck in this loop forever. Instead, do something small today. A single action- no matter how tiny- can disrupt the pattern and start shifting things in a better direction.

What’s one hobby you miss that you can bring back in just 5 minutes today?

[kaiyunsim]

best lover —

pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader

summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.

warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic

a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.

queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean

[requested]

— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —

you’ve always known taesan was cool.

not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.

his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.

you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.

so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.

but what do you get someone like taesan?

he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.

so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.

you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.

and then it hits you.

vinyls.

taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.

but you don’t know enough about it.

you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.

so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.

sungho.

—

you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?

he replies almost immediately.

sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?

you snort. typical.

you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.

a pause. then—

sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?

relief washes over you.

you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.

sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.

you smile, pocketing your phone.

this is a good plan. a perfect plan.

now, you just have to keep it a secret.

the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.

taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.

“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.

he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”

that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.

“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

your heart squeezes at that.

you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”

—

meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.

he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.

“you look nervous,” he says, amused.

“because i am.”

he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”

“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”

sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.

the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.

rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.

sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”

you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”

“then we start with the basics.”

he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.

“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”

it was the black parade by my chemical romance

you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”

sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”

you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.

you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”

he smirks. “told you.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.

this is going to be perfect.

if you can keep it a secret long enough.

you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.

sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.

“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.

he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”

he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”

that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.

you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco

you hesitate. “what about this one?”

sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”

you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”

sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”

you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”

“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”

he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”

you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.

but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.

you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.

you wish he was here.

you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.

“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”

sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.

“this.”

you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.

“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”

your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”

sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”

you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”

“anytime.”

you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.

when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.

“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”

you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”

he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”

“excuse me?”

“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”

you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”

“i mean, that would be funny.”

“sungho.”

he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”

you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.

“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”

sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”

his grin is downright evil. “try me.”

you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.

but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.

you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.

you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.

sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"

"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."

sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."

you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.

after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.

you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.

taesan: where are you?

you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.

“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"

you: just out. why?

you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.

taesan: are you by yourself?

your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.

“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”

you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.

you: yeah, just me. out by myself.

you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.

as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.

taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.

your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.

“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.

“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”

sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”

you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”

sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”

you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”

you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.

taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?

your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.

sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”

you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”

“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”

“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”

but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.

you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.

you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee

you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.

it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.

taesan: it was a coincidence?

you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.

you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too

you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.

taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.

your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.

“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.

“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”

you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.

you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.

but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”

taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.

“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”

you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”

taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”

the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”

you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.

“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.

taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”

your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”

“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”

you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.

“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”

taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.

“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”

you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”

taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.

“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”

taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”

there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.

“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.

“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.

you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.

“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”

you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.

“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”

you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”

you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.

there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.

“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”

taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”

you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”

taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”

“promise,” you say quietly.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.

but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.

taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.

you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.

“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.

you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”

he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.

“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”

“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”

taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.

he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.

you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.

“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”

you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.

his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”

“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”

sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”

“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”

you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”

taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.

“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”

you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”

taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”

you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”

his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”

he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.

and just like that, everything feels right again.

[insidekatmind]

Answer- Berlin (Song Jung-ho)

The silence was deafening inside the Korea Unified Mint. The only sound was the labored breathing of the people next to you, all blindfolded with a red cloth over their eyes. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your sweaty hands clenched into fists. You couldn't see anything, but you could feel the imposing presence of the masked robbers around you.Suddenly, a phone rang.

"You. Answer the phone."Berlin’s deep, authoritative voice made you flinch. There was an amused tone in his words, almost a smirk hidden behind his mask. You felt a hand gently grab your arm, guiding you forward.

Instinctively, in your confusion, you grabbed onto Berlin’s arm, clutching it in fear of tripping. He paused for a moment and then chuckled softly.

"Oh? Getting attached already?" he whispered, amused.

The warmth of his body was reassuring, but the panic inside you refused to subside. Your hands were trembling as you finally reached the phone. Sensing your unsteady breathing, Berlin took your hands in his, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Breathe, Y/N. Small breaths. Like this."His voice had softened, becoming hypnotic, almost soothing. You tried to obey, but the tension made it difficult to even follow his instructions.

Berlin sighed, and before you could understand what was happening, his lips brushed against yours in an unexpected kiss.It was brief, but enough to make you forget your fear for a moment. Your breathing steadied as the warmth of his lips left an indelible mark on yours.

He pulled away just slightly, his lips still dangerously close to yours."Now you can answer the phone, darling." he said with a mischievous smile.

Your heart was still racing as you tried to collect yourself. You took several small, shaky breaths, trying to calm your nerves. With your hand, you blindly searched for the phone, your fingers trembling slightly as they grazed over the cold, metal surface. Finally, you grasped the phone, holding it tightly in your hand.

"Y-yes?" you managed to speak, your voice quivering slightly.

Berlin leaned closer to you, his breaths caressing your ear. You could feel the heat emanating from his body, the subtle scent of masculine cologne filling your nostrils.

"Good girl," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now, I want you to listen carefully. Do exactly as I say, understood?

You nod and answer. "Korea Unified Mint. , who's speaking?" you said trying to be as normal as possible. Berlin leaned even closer to you, his body now practically pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you couldn't help but shiver slightly.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

The phone line crackled to life, and a voice spoke up."Is this Y/N?"

You recognized the voice on the other end, a familiar one that you couldn't place."Y-yes, it is," you replied, your voice still shaken with fear. Berlin chuckled softly, amused by your nervousness. He seemed to be enjoying the situation far too much for your liking.

"Say something charming, darling," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear once more. Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity of his lips, but you tried to calm yourself down. You took a deep breath and attempted to speak as normally as possible, despite the fear and the presence of Berlin.

"How can I assist you today?" you responded, your voice slightly shaky but mostly steady. Berlin's smirk widened, clearly pleased with your attempt at normality. He ran a hand through your hair, his fingers gently grazing your scalp. His touch was strangely intimate, sending a shiver down your spine.

The voice on the other end of the phone spoke again, unaware of the bizarre situation that was unfolding."What happened to the network?"

Berlin's hand moved from your hair, trailing down to your jaw, his touch almost possessive. “We had a network failure,” you say, trying to remain as normal as possible.

Berlin's fingers traced a path along your jawline, his touch leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the situation."A network failure, huh?" he mused, his hand now resting on your cheek. "How convenient."

You could feel your heart racing beneath Berlin's touch, the conflicting emotions coursing through your body. Fear and attraction warred within you, creating a dizzying mix of sensations.The voice on the phone continued, oblivious to the tension in the air."When will the system be back online?”

“I don't know, we're working it out, I have to go now” you say and put the phone down finishing the call. Berlin let out a soft hum of approval as you put the phone down. His hand remained on your cheek for a moment longer before he slowly withdrew it.

"Impressive," he whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You handled that quite well, darling." You could feel the weight of Berlin's gaze on you as you stood there, trying to regain your composure. His touch lingered on your skin, leaving a burning trail of sensation in its wake.

He stepped closer to you, his body almost pressing against yours. "You have nerve, I like that," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. Berlin's hand came up again, and this time, it was his fingertips tracing lightly along your collarbone. The touch was so painfully intimate, it sent heat pooling in your stomach despite yourself.

"I could use someone with your... talents," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. His hand continued its journey, exploring the curve of your neck, mapping out every inch of your skin. His touch was feather-light, but it seemed to sear your flesh with its intensity.

You remained frozen in place, your mind a chaotic mess of confusion and excitement. Berlin clearly relished in your turmoil, his smirk growing wider as he watched you struggle to maintain your composure.

"From now on you will be separated from the other hostages and you will stay with me, you will be my assistant" Berlin murmurs, caressing your side. You felt a mix of emotions coursing through you as Berlin gave his order. Fear, intrigue, and a strange sense of anticipation flooded your senses.

His hand on your side felt like a brand, leaving a trail of heat wherever it touched. You could feel the power in his grip, the strength contained within him.

"Your... assistant?" you managed to croak out, your voice betraying your nervousness. Berlin chuckled softly, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path along your ribs. "Yes, my dear," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "You will be my personal assistant, attending to my every need, fulfilling my every request."

His hand came up to your chin, tilting your face towards his. His gaze held yours captive, his eyes dark and intense."You should feel lucky," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your jawline. "Not just anyone gets to experience the privilege of being my assistant."

You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine as Berlin continued his gentle exploration of your body. His touch felt both soothing and terrifying at the same time.

"What exactly will this... job entail?" you finally managed to ask, your voice still trembling slightly. Berlin smirked, the fire in his eyes growing brighter. He moved closer to you, his body now mere inches away from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and you couldn't help but notice the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took.

"Well," Berlin murmured, his hand moving down to your waist, his fingers tracing possessive circles on the exposed skin above your hip bone. "It will require your complete obedience, your unwavering loyalty, and your utter submission."

You swallowed hard, the words striking a nerve deep within you. Something about Berlin's demand sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching your ear. "You will be at my beck and call, ready to attend to me regardless of the situation," he whispered, his voice sultry and commanding. "Do you think you can handle that, darling?"

You nodded slowly, unable to trust your voice to speak without trembling. Berlin noticed the subtle movement and chuckled softly, a low, dark sound that set your heart racing."Good girl," he murmured. "I can already tell you'll be a fast learner."

Berlin's lips brushed lightly against your skin as he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent. You could feel the heat of his breath against your neck and the slight brush of his stubble against your skin."Vanilla and coconut," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "A delightful combination. So sweet... just like you, darling."

His words sent tingles down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver in response. Berlin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you."You're even more responsive than I thought," he said, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "So sensitive... so receptive."

Berlin continued his exploration of your body, his nose tracing a path along your neck. At the same time, you could hear the sound of the other hostages, their voices carrying fear and concern. Berlin seemed amused by this, a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest. "Don't mind them, darling," he said, his lips hovering near your ear. "They're simply afraid of the unknown... of men like us."

Berlin squeezes your side and then puts his arm on your shoulder to lead you to the others. "Come darling, I have to make a little speech"

You sigh, realizing that your survival depended on staying in Berlin’s good graces there was no other choice. Resigned, you accepted your fate.

[doyoulikethis-videogame-song]

Song: PotatOS Lament Artist: Mike Morasky (Aperture Science Psychoacoustics Laboratory) From: Portal 2

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When I was 14, I went to a school where most of our work was on computers. During our independent work time I was permitted to listen to music, except I would not listen to music and instead listen to compilations of GLaDOS's voice lines from Portal 2. Over and over again. For months.

I would also draw her every free chance I had when I was not playing Portal 2 just to see her.

My dad saw one of my drawings of her one day and asked me if I liked girls. So, I ended up not having to ever come out to my parents because GLaDOS gave me away.

It took me three more months to figure it out myself.

[maximsdeadwife]

Come Close I’ll Show You Heaven

Logan x afab!reader

1.8k words

Summary: getting with Wolverine isn’t exactly what you expect

Authors notes: this is for my beloved @heresthestorymorningglory who has been my best friend, my sister, my beta reader, my favourite writer, my supporter and everything in between since we met through fandom a year and a half ago and have been writing and having fun with our favourite characters together since. Logan’s an old love for both of us, but for her birthday he’s entirely hers. Title comes from one of her Logan songs, I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) by Taylor Swift.

Content/warnings: nsfw, dry humping, fingering, kinda premature ejaculation but not really, alcohol mentions, fluff, crying

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to feel. He wasn’t sure he still possessed the ability, even if he stopped numbing every thought with the soothing sting of alcohol. It provided him the only moments of quiet he’d experienced in years, or at least, something close to it.

His kiss had been bruising; a rough, heated mess that you were almost sure would end in his hips slamming hard against yours until he found the brief release he needed and left you used and disappointed.

Because you knew that whilst you wanted him, he probably just wanted to get his dick wet. Hell, he even kept his mask on while he kissed you to keep his distance.

You knew it would be a one time thing, and now, with his lips ghosting over your throat accompanied by that delicious scratch of stubble, you had two choices – go with it and finally have him even just this once, or never know. And you had to know.

His fingertips drove into your waist as you made your mind up, grounding you back with him.

It felt so good, those heavy, muscular arms controlling your movements. Heat rushed to your core at the thought of him taking what he needed just like this, and the thought that it might not be so disappointing after all to have the Wolverine use you, feral and strong and ravaging. It was already kind of thrilling just to kiss him.

His grip loosened then and your heart sank – just a little at first, and then, all at once as he stilled above you.

‘Listen-’

‘No, it’s ok,’ you interrupted, beating him to it, ‘you don’t need to say it.’

You didn’t need to see him without his mask to know a thick line had appeared between Logan’s brows.

‘Say what?’ he asked.

‘That you don’t want me- or, I’m not doing it for you… whatever. You’ve changed your mind.’ You pushed yourself up beneath him, creating a physical distance so he didn’t have to. ‘It’s ok, we can just pretend this never happened and-’

He pushed himself forward and his lips pressed to yours again, only this time, he was ever so gentle. You gasped against them. You’d never seen him gentle. Never thought you’d feel it, either.

‘Not what I was getting at,’ he breathed, gruff, against your lips. His voice was the lowest you’d ever heard and you could feel it shiver through you. ‘Believe me, you’re doing… everything for me. It’s just- it’s been a while, alright? That’s all.’

‘Oh...’ You froze. Did you hear that correctly?

‘So, if I disappoint you-’ he broke off with a frustrated huff.

‘No, you won’t. You can’t,’ you reassured, kissing him back tenderly. You could practically feel his heart swelling at your response.

You wanted him, and he didn’t deserve anyone wanting him, but you did, and it was sincere and… kind of overwhelming.

His hand, once grabbing careless and rough at your hips, rubbed slow, tender circles into your back as the other pushed up into your hair, thick fingers tangling loosely in the strands. His chest heaved with a relief so intense it was almost tangible.

‘What do you need?’ you breathed, and he paused for a moment.

No one had ever asked what he needed. He wasn’t even sure.

‘Just you,’ he said.

You hooked a careful leg around his waist to pull him down closer to you, his hips falling easily between your thighs, and your tongue teased, warm and wet against his lower lip until he parted them and invited you back in.

You took the lead this time, slow and languid, and he hummed into it, hips rocking against the gentle movement of yours while he basked in your attention.

You rolled onto your sides to face one another, and little grunts were swallowed by your mouth as his arousal, very evident in the yellow spandex slid over yours.

Daring, you thought, since it had been how many months? Years? Since he’d been with someone else. 

You weren’t sure exactly how long Logan considered a long time, and although you were sure the alcohol consumption might help slow things a little, you really didn’t want him to peak too soon if this would be the one and only time.

You were on track to be fucked by the Wolverine for Christ’s sake — but more than that, you wanted to show him a good time, let him feel the comfort of another’s touch, let go. If he came now, you weren’t sure you’d ever get another chance to show him that.

He pulled back though, and you smiled at him, small but genuine. Reassuring again.

You fought the urge to reach up and push his mask back so you could look into his eyes, watch his reaction as you stroked his stubbled cheek with real affection.

Logan beat you to it. He slid the hand from around your back to push the mask away himself. Tired eyes turned watery as they met yours, and you sighed.

‘What?’ he grumbled, ‘Prefer me with it on?’

You couldn’t stifle your laugh. ‘No. Well, I mean… I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it, but right now I wanna see you.’

‘Freak,’ he grinned, hand moving back to your waist.

You let your fingertips wander over his suit, bright yellow dulled by dirt and stained with blood, memorising the contours of his body beneath while he memorised the warmth of your palm.

You let out a pleased little moan when your fingers found his erection and dragged up the impressive length, and his eyes squeezed shut. 

‘Fuck,’ came a growl from under his breath. 

He’s sensitive, you delighted, and took your hand away, back to resting on those broad shoulders.

‘Fuckin’ tease,’ he smirked, eyes lighting up with a fire you hadn’t yet seen but knew lurked somewhere in the depths. Impatient, he slid his hand between your thighs. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ you confirmed, and he pressed his cupped palm against you, fingers teasing through fabric. ‘We gotta get rid of some of these layers, though.’

There was a simultaneous scramble then, during which you managed to help him shed the top half of his suit, and he tore off everything you were wearing far too easily.

You grazed his cheek with the backs of your fingers, and he leaned into it, starved, and in his eyes, undeserving.

His stomach flipped as your fingertips toyed with his hair. He was topless beside you, and you reached for his face first? Not his bare chest or abs? His eyes stung as he bit back the threat of tears.

‘That’s better,’ he hummed, distracting himself by resuming his previous position, thick fingers sliding between your folds.

‘Please,’ you gasped, trying to rock against his palm.

He liked that. A pang of guilt bubbled low in his gut again, but arousal washed it away when your fingers circled his wrist and clenched around it.

‘Jesus, you’re wet,’ he said. It was husky, and just surprised enough for you to notice.

Did he really expect you not to be?

‘All for you, bub,’ you replied playfully.

The smile dropped from your lips as he shifted from casually circling his slicked up finger over your clit to sliding a finger inside.

Logan watched closely, the way your eyes fluttered closed and your cheeks powdered red, the way your breath fell from between your parted lips in hungry little pants.

You felt warm and familiar, and his dick throbbed as he curled his finger inside you, deliberate and precise. His head dropped to the crook of your neck and he clenched his jaw to keep from nuzzling there.

‘Gonna cum for me?’ he panted, hot against your throat.

‘Gonna- ah!- f-fuck me?’ you managed between heaving breaths.

Logan didn’t answer, just chuckled against you as he fucked his finger into you faster, and lifted his head in time to watch you unravel, his eyes alight with wonder and arousal.

He didn’t rush you as you came down from your back-arching high, he simply slowed the movements of his hand. The aftershocks of your climax clenched deliciously around his finger as he massaged you down, relishing in every squeeze.

He still had it.

‘Still want me after… what do they call it these days? Post-nut clarity?’ he asked, trying hard to sound unbothered, but you heard the way his voice cracked with doubt.

‘More than ever.’

He dropped his forehead to yours as he carefully eased his finger out, relishing in the small whine that told him you felt empty without it.

‘Mmh, you feel so good,’ he dared admit as he lined himself up and gradually pushed inside to give you time to adjust, ‘so warm, so wet- oh fuck-’

You were glad he’d removed his mask. As much as the sweet burn of his cock stretching you had you clawing at his back, the blissed out look on his face was making your toes curl the most.

He rolled his hips so slowly you thought he must be holding back, being too cautious, either with you or for his own performance. Either way it didn’t matter, it was so different from what you’d expected your core throbbed.

‘You won’t break me,’ you whispered, ‘I’m yours, however you want.’

‘Feels good just like this,’ he all but whimpered, hiding his face at your shoulder again groaning, low and drawn out while his fingertips dragged over the parts of you he could reach.

He gazed down at you through those tired eyes, no longer bothering to fight the tears that slipped from the corners. 

‘Come for me,’ you breathed, and somehow it was the most romantic thing he’d ever heard.

With a low groan rumbling from his chest, he snapped his hips, once, twice. Three uneven, hurried thrusts and he roared, fists strategically moving the mattress either side of you as his claws extended with a muffled snikt! as he emptied inside you.

He pumped you so full that his release dripped back out, hot and thick around his softening cock and onto the sheets beneath.

‘Fuck-’ he growled, collapsing beside you.

 . ۫ ꣑ৎ   .  

You woke a few hours later, resting on his chest, and glanced up at him. 

Logan was still awake, deep in thought. He huffed.

‘What is it?’ you yawned, pushing yourself up to get a proper look at him. You assumed you’d wake to him long gone with his seed drying on your thigh, but he was very much still here. 

‘Just… don’t tell anyone, alright?’ he said, as if imparting a secret.

‘Tell them what?’ 

‘Yknow. That I-’

‘That you’re secretly a big softie and you fuck good? Yeah, ok,’ you mocked, ‘my lips are sealed. So long as you keep the mask on next time.’

Logan shot you a withering look and with a subtle smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, closed his eyes as you settled back against his chest.

[hazelira]

tomorrow will be perfect!

The house was filled with the sound of wailing. A sharp, piercing cry echoed through the walls, shaking the foundation of the home you had built together. Your four-year-old daughter, Hina, sobbed uncontrollably, her tiny fists curled tightly against her chest.

"Shh, baby, I know," you cooed, running a soothing hand down her trembling back. "I know you're upset, sweetheart."

But she wouldn't calm down. No matter how many times you whispered reassurances, rocked her gently in your arms, or wiped away the steady stream of tears staining her chubby cheeks—she wouldn't stop.

And the reason for her distress made your heart ache even more.

Today was supposed to be her special day. The day she had been looking forward to all week—the trip to the amusement park with Mama and Daddy. Her excitement had been boundless the moment she'd woken up, but as the hours passed and Ni-ki still hadn’t come home, that excitement quickly melted into heartbreak.

You had tried to distract her with her favourite cartoons, bake her favourite cookies, and even play her favourite songs for her to sing along to, but none of it worked. The only thing she truly wanted was for her father to keep his promise.

And Ni-ki never came.

By the time he did, it was late in the afternoon, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. He stepped inside with heavy steps, exhaustion weighing on him like a boulder. He had spent all day buried in work, rushing to meet deadlines, attending endless meetings, and barely having a second to check his phone.

Then, he heard it—the cries.

Your sniffles.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest when he walked into the living room and saw the two of you sitting on the couch, your eyes red and swollen, with Hina still sobbing in your arms.

"I tried so hard, but she wouldn't stop crying," you murmured voice breaking, your tears slipping down your cheeks. "She just... she just wanted to go with us."

Guilt hit him like a tidal wave.

Ni-ki dropped his bag and immediately made his way toward the couch. He crouched in front of the two of you, reaching to cup your face, his thumb gently wiping away your tears.

"Baby," he whispered, voice thick with regret. "I’m so sorry."

Hina sniffled, peeking up at her father with teary eyes. Her little hands reached out for him, and without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. He pressed soft kisses to her hair, whispering apologies repeatedly.

"I promised, didn't I?" His voice cracked. "I should've been here. I should’ve been there for you."

Hina let out a tiny hiccup, gripping onto his shirt. Her sobs finally quieted down as she melted into his warmth.

"Park…" she mumbled, her voice laced with exhaustion. "I wanted… Mama and Daddy… park…"

Ni-ki swallowed past the lump in his throat, pulling back to meet her big, watery eyes. "I know, baby. I know you did. But listen tomorrow—Daddy doesn't have work tomorrow."

Her eyes widened just a little. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed with a firm nod. "Tomorrow, we're going to the amusement park, and we're going to explore everything you want. We'll eat ice cream, take pictures, and make many memories, okay?"

She hesitated momentarily, her tiny lips forming a pout, before finally nodding. "Okay."

You let out a deep breath, watching as she buried her face into Ni-ki’s chest, her tiny hands still clinging to him. You met his eyes, and despite the exhaustion he carried, the regret that still lingered in his features, there was a promise in them—one he wouldn’t break again.

"Thank you," you whispered, your hand resting over his.

He brought your fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss against them. "Thank you for always holding it together when I can’t. I promise—tomorrow will be perfect."

And for the first time that day, a small, genuine smile crept onto Hina’s lips.

And Ni-ki knew—he would do anything to keep it there.

The following day, the sun rose early, casting a warm golden glow over the kitchen as you stirred pancake batter. The air smelled of vanilla and sweetness, a comfort after yesterday's emotional storm. Hina was already up, her tiny body bouncing with excitement as she ran around the living room, still in her pyjamas but with a sparkle in her eyes that hadn't been there the night before.

"Daddy’s gonna take us today, right, Mama?" she asked, her voice high-pitched with anticipation.

You smiled, turning around from the stove to glimpse her wide-eyed innocence. "Of course, baby. We're going to the park today. Everything's going to be just like you imagined."

Now dressed in his favourite graphic tee and jeans, Ni-ki came into the room, running a hand through his messy hair. His tired eyes were softer this morning, no longer heavy with guilt but filled with determination to make today perfect.

"Good morning, love," you greeted him, offering him a plate of pancakes. "Hina’s ready to go already."

He bent down to kiss the top of Hina's head, his lips lingering on her hair. "Hey there, little one. Are we ready for our adventure?"

Without warning, she jumped into his arms, her giggle echoing through the kitchen. "YES! We're going to the rollercoaster (the kiddie one ofc)! And the Ferris wheel! And the ice cream!"

Ni-ki laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Alright, alright. We’ll do it all. But only if you promise not to scream too loud on the rollercoaster, okay? I’m not as brave as you."

She giggled again, pulling his cheeks. "I promise, Daddy."

After a final check of the time, you ensured the bag was packed—sunscreen, snacks, water bottles, and the camera. You couldn’t help but glance at the small notebook you kept, where you wrote down your family memories. Today would be another page full of laughter, love, and the tiny details that made your little family special.

After a quick breakfast, you bundled Hina into her favourite dress—pink with little unicorns—and did her hair into two cute pigtails that bounced as she hopped along the sidewalk toward the car. Ni-ki grabbed a photo of her, his camera clicking away as he captured the morning light glinting off her joyful face.

"Cheese!" she giggled, striking a silly pose with one hand on her hip and the other holding a pretend microphone to her mouth.

You both couldn’t help but laugh as Ni-ki snapped the picture, the two of you exchanging a knowing look that spoke volumes. This was the moment—the one you would treasure forever.

As you all arrived at the park, the familiar sights of giant rollercoasters and spinning rides greeted you. Hina’s face lit up, her little hand gripping Ni-ki’s tightly as they walked together, your hand resting comfortably in his. There was something so right about this picture—the three of you, all together, all in the right place.

"Look, Mama! I wanna go there!" Hina pointed to the carousel, her eyes wide in awe.

You smiled, adjusting the strap of your camera. "Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go."

Ni-ki scooped her up without hesitation, his strong arms lifting her effortlessly as he approached the ride. You walked behind them, snapping photos as the two shared a private moment—Ni-ki gently whispering something to Hina that made her laugh, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

The day unfolded with moments of pure joy: the thrill of rollercoasters that made Hina squeal with delight, the gentleness of the Ferris wheel as you all watched the park from high above, and the sweetness of ice cream dripping down Hina’s chin. Each memory was framed in laughter, hugs, and little words of affection.

Ni-ki took a break from the rides to sit on a bench with Hina, holding her close as you clicked away with the camera. The warm afternoon sun bathed the scene in soft light, creating the perfect backdrop for a moment you would never forget.

"Mama!" Hina called out, waving her arms excitedly. "Come sit with us! I wanna picture with you, too!"

You made your way over to them, smiling softly as you joined them on the bench. Ni-ki wrapped his arms around both of you, pulling Hina between you and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

You handed your camera to a passing park worker, who smiled and took a picture of your family. The moment felt frozen in time—a perfect snapshot of happiness.

Later, as the sun began to set, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, Ni-ki pulled Hina onto his lap, his eyes tired but full of love. "Did you have fun today, princess?" he asked, his voice a soothing whisper.

Hina snuggled closer to him, her little face glowing with contentment. "Best day ever, Daddy," she mumbled, her eyelids fluttering as she fought off sleep. "Thank you."

Ni-ki smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

You leaned in and kissed his cheek, your heart swelling with gratitude. Today had been more than just a day at the amusement park—it had been a reminder of what truly mattered. And as you all made your way back to the car, your hearts full, you knew this day would stay with you forever.

requested by: @yejisuu

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[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

I'm so excited for you, my friend!! Thank you for diving in. 🥰

I like this line, because it's what made Dean stop. In my head I feel like this version of Dean has pushed away so many people and the reader is the first person in a long time to genuinely say that she was "worried" about him, and it strikes something in his chest because he couldn't remember the last time it happened. That's the headcanon in my head anyway lol.

Oh yeah, that's a totally accurate observation, poor Dean. 🥲 He hasn't allowed himself to be "worried about" in a long time, since he and Sam started up their own lives.

Also the spice was.... 😱🌶️🔥. I literally cannot write smut to save my life, but you always write it so well! I also liked that you didn't do it as intense as omegaverse usually is, because we both know how it can be 👀

ahaha thank youuu 😘 It's really not easy for me, but I write it when I feel the story warrants it. And totally, the more subtle approach was what I was going for loll! I don't think I could write the aggressive smut that omegaverse fics tend to be. 🤪

OH MY WORD DEAN SHUT UP! I promise it's okay! She loves you and she can see that you're not a bad person because you literally have been nursing her back to health with her broken ankle 😭 Not to mention you guys are fated! She's not going to let you go no matter what you do.

Lol RIGHT?! How many times do we have to go over this, Dean???? 😭

But again... on brand for Dean to hate himself and to think he's not good enough -sigh- just means that you get to spend more time wrapped up with him trying to convince him 😊😉. I also believe that Dean loves intimac, that he does crave that connection with someone, not to mention I still love what you do in your Midnight Espresso series with Dean being a little touch starved for non-sexual touch. I feel like you've also implied this here and it is marvelous!

This is where I have to beat down the "not worthy" aspect of Dean's personality when it comes to love and intimacy. 😭 But I SO agree with you -- he craves it, even though he doesn't feel like he deserves it half the time. That's a big theme in Midnight Espresso, so I love you so much for enjoying that aspect in that series and in this one. 🥹💓💓

I'm literally cackling. I can hear Dean saying this to his significant other. Meeting Baby for the first time holds the same place in his heart as meeting Sam for the first time 🤣 ALSO, I wasn't ready for the palm kiss. Palm kisses and forehead kisses DESTROY me.

LOL this part of the scene was so vivid in my mind -- I have no doubt he'd be just like this when his girl meets his Baby. 🤣🤣 Oh same. I LOVE hand kisses and forehead kisses. They're so wholesome. 🥹

I like that this was an alternate ending to the dumpster fire that was the end of Supernatural. That it's Dean and his girl out on the open road listening to a Led Zeppelin song holding hands in the front seat of Baby was just beautiful in the best way and a perfect ending to this mini-series my wonderful friend!! I am going to miss this couple so much, but it really was a fitting end for them 🥰

Honestly that's the biggest compliment I could get on this story! 💕💕 It's the two of them riding into the subset to some Zep tunes, on their way to see Sam and his new little family. I might come back to write their little reunion, but until then, I'm so glad you've enjoyed this snowy, angsty ride. 😘❄️💜💜

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[acasualcrossfade]

Steddie Love Month: Day 3

Barefoot on the Grass, Listening to His Favorite Song

Stranger Things, Steddie

Rating: T

CW: making out

For Day 3 of @steddielovemonth for the prompt: Perfect - Ed Sheeran

Words: 995

--------

The grass was damp with dew and it made Steve’s toes curl with cold, sending a full body shiver through him. The morning was barely awake, and the sky was streaked with the secrets of sunrise. Summer was a whisper of possibility, but the morning chill was enough for Steve to be thankful for his yellow sweater, and for his ability to talk Eddie into wearing one of his hoodies. The decision had nothing to do with his own guilty pleasure of seeing Eddie in his clothes.

Steve’s heart hummed at the sight of Eddie’s slimmer frame in his larger hoodie, and he couldn’t help but hug Eddie from behind. The movement surprised Eddie, and Eddie laughed as he turned around in Steve’s arms to pull him closer. 

“Good morning to you too,” Eddie smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek, his lips parting in a smile. His arms stayed wrapped around Steve. “Although I will say, I haven’t been up this early in awhile.”

Steve laughed, his own sleepiness turning to giddiness. “I haven’t stayed up this late in awhile,” he responded. His voice was husky with exhaustion.

It had been a long night of watching the kids fight to stay awake to stay up for the Lord of the Rings Extended Edition movie marathon night. It officially ended sometime around 3am, when Mike and Will finally fell asleep against Dustin’s sprawled legs. The living room was now a battleground of fallen soldiers fast asleep in a tangle of limbs and pillows. The two of them lasted until the end, sitting in silence before taking advantage of the time alone.

It was hard enough to grasp that life was as back to normal as it could get, safe enough for them to all sleep in a room together without feeling threatened. In the midst of that realization, Steve found himself selfish, craving more of these moments with Eddie. Moments when it was just the two of them, nearly tripping over themselves as they snuck out of the living room of sleeping teens in the same way Steve used to sneak out of his house. 

In too many ways, Steve felt like a kid again and relished it. The Upside Down had taken too much of all of them, and they all had a lot of catching up to do.

Steve knew he had a lot of catching up to do, and he chose the next moment to steal another kiss from his boyfriend. 

Boyfriend.

The word felt as unfamiliar as the relationship, and somehow, being with Eddie was effortless. There was an ease, no hiding away from hurts and old hauntings that came in the night or old battle scars that still beat them down on harder days. Eddie didn’t just know the invisible and untouched parts of him, but had the heart to take his time to understand them to then comfort them. 

Eddie did so now, cupping Steve’s cheek to meet his gaze. “You look perfect,” Eddie sighed.

His heart hummed at the sight of Eddie in his hoodie, Eddie in red plaid pajama pants, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, so heartbreakingly beautiful in the morning light and he couldn’t help but hug Eddie from behind. The sudden movement surprised his guitarist boyfriend, and he laughed as he turned around in Steve’s arms to pull him closer. 

“Good morning to you too,” Eddie smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek, his lips parting in a smile. Eddie’s voice was husky exhaustion.  “Although I will say, I haven’t been up this early in awhile.”

Steve giggled, his own sleepiness turning to giddiness. “I haven’t stayed up this late since…,” he started, a yawn forcing its way through the end of his sentence. “Since school,” he finished as his eyes watered. 

“So what class would you call this?” Eddie asked, giving Steve a coy look. 

For once, Steve skipped the witty reply and simply kissed Eddie, Eddie’s lips opening to part to allow him in. Eddie moaned, pulling Steve impossibly closer, closer, trying to climb Steve like a flagpole but failing, tripping them into a tumble of pajamas and limbs that ended with them in a pile in the dewy grass. Dampness spread across Steve’s hip as he sank into the grass, but that didn’t stop him from closing the centimeters between him and Eddie to complete their kiss. He confidently crawled over to straddle Eddie, not caring how the dew soaked into the knees of his sweatpants.

“Whatever class it is, you’re acing it,” Eddie smiled. “And I think this might be my favorite class.”

Eddie pulled him closer, tracing Steve’s lips with his tongue before taking him in his mouth again. 

“You look perfect,” Eddie breathed between kisses, moaning on his exhales. “You look so perfect like this.” Eddie’s fingers found Steve’s and wound their hands together so tight they became one. “I think you might be an angel,” he mumbled.

Steve’s eyes were heavy as he leaned against Eddie and took in his sweet and smoky scent.  “I think your voice is my favorite song,” Steve admitted. And when Eddie met his eyes, for the first time, Steve saw his future there.

Steve held back the biting thought that he didn’t deserve this, he couldn’t have this, and instead, replaced those thoughts with more of Eddie’s lips against his. 

Steve wasn’t sure how long they lay there or who may have fallen asleep first. He wasn’t sure when the dew dried or if it was weird to be asleep in the grass with his boyfriend. All he knew  that in Eddie’s arms, like this, in the grass and the disappearing darkness of the oncoming dawn, that perfection wasn’t an instant or a moment. It wasn’t a flash you had to hope to hold on to, but rather, was the promise of a future. A life together. Maybe a kid or two.

And for now, that started here, with Eddie asleep in his arms. 

[loveesiren]

𝒮𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒢𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒

Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon) x Reader

a/n: see the full request here! I changed it a little, hope you don't mind! I wrote this while kind of tipsy so it's not my favorite, sorry if the proofreading was shit/if there's any mistakes! I hope you enjoy regardless! <3

synopsis: After their fight, Y/n is surprised to hear that her best friend still needs her so desperately.

warnings: angst, language, panic attack, fluff

wc: 3.7k+

Spending time with your best friend has always been your favorite thing in the world. Jiyong was your safe space, your person—the one you could sit in comfortable silence with or talk to for hours on end without ever running out of things to say. But lately, that joy had been overshadowed by a growing concern gnawing at your chest.

BIGBANG’s tour was just around the corner, and their new album was about to drop. It was supposed to be an exciting time, and it was—you were beyond thrilled for them, for him. You had always been his biggest supporter, ready to help in any way you could. But as you sat in the dimly lit practice room, watching Jiyong push himself to his absolute limit, that excitement soured into unease.

His voice was raw from overuse, cracked and strained in a way that made you wince every time he spoke. He practiced his choreography until he was drenched in sweat, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Some nights, he worked himself to the point of collapse, and you were the one left to pick up the pieces—carrying his limp, exhausted body to bed, draping a blanket over his shaking form, whispering for him to rest even though you knew he wouldn’t listen.

Tonight was no different. The music blasted through the studio speakers, and Jiyong was lost in the rhythm, his body moving on autopilot despite the evident exhaustion written all over him. You watched as his steps faltered, his balance wavering. Then, just like that, his legs buckled, and he went crashing down.

“Jiyong!” You rushed to his side, your heart hammering as you kneeled beside him. His skin was clammy, his breathing ragged as he tried to push himself up. You grabbed the water bottle you’d brought for him and shoved it into his trembling hands.

“Drink,” you urged, your voice softer now, laced with worry. He took a few sips, barely able to keep the bottle steady. “Ji, you’re worrying me,” you admitted, eyes searching his for any sign that he’d finally listen, that he’d see what he was doing to himself.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Just have to make sure I’m ready for tour.”

You shook your head. “Ji, you’re overworking yourself. You’ve got everything perfected, okay? Give yourself time to rest.”

He exhaled sharply, pushing himself to his feet despite your hand reaching out to steady him. “You don’t get it, Y/n,” he said, brushing past you, already making his way back to the center of the room.

You stood as well, crossing your arms as you watched him stubbornly reset the track. “I get that you’re tired, Ji,” you said gently, trying again. “You’re just hurting yourself at this point—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he snapped, cutting you off as the first beats of the song echoed through the studio.

Your chest tightened. “I’m just worried… I mean, you fainted and now you just want to keep going like nothing happened?”

Jiyong clenched his jaw, his fists balling at his sides. He turned to face you, eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, frustration, desperation?

“Look, Y/n,” he said, his voice cold and sharp, each word like a blade slicing through your chest. “You’re a bartender, alright? You don’t have to be that skilled at anything.”

The air in the room shifted instantly. You felt the words like a physical blow, your breath catching in your throat.

Jiyong must have seen the way your face fell because for a split second, his expression flickered with something softer—regret, maybe? But then it was gone, replaced by a steely determination as he turned back to his practice.

“If I’m not perfect, then I’m done. Alright?” He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “If you can’t handle it, then fuck off.”

Silence.

You scoffed, a bitter chuckle escaping your lips even as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Wow,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Fuck you, Jiyong.”

You turned on your heel, grabbing your bag with shaking hands as you stormed out of the studio. You half-expected him to call after you, to chase after you and take it back. But he didn’t.

The only sound that followed you was the relentless pounding of the bass as he started the song over again.

The moment you stepped outside, the cold night air hit you, but it did nothing to dull the sting of his words. Your vision blurred as tears spilled freely down your cheeks. You barely registered getting into your car, hands gripping the wheel so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

You had always known Jiyong could be stubborn, obsessive even. But this? This was something else. This was him drowning, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t pull him back to the surface.

And worst of all, he didn’t even want you to.

You barely made it into your apartment before collapsing onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows as sobs wracked your body. You cried until there was nothing left, until exhaustion took over, pulling you into a restless sleep.

-

How is he? You texted Seunghyun, your fingers hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

A few minutes passed before your phone buzzed with his response.

Being a total prick.

You sighed, pressing your forehead into your palm. It had been three days since you last spoke to Jiyong. Three days since he spat those words at you, since you walked out of that practice studio, feeling like the ground had been ripped from beneath you. Three days of silence.

And now, with BIGBANG’s first show of the tour just four days away, all you could do was check in through the others. You had been messaging Seunghyun and Daesung, hoping—maybe even praying—that Jiyong would come to his senses, that he’d realize how badly he had hurt you. But instead, he was still working himself into the ground, still burning himself out, and in return, treating everyone around him like shit.

You bit your lip, debating whether to text him. Your fingers hovered over his contact, but your stomach twisted at the memory of his voice.

"You’re a bartender, alright? You don’t have to be that skilled at anything."

That one line alone still stung like hell.

Jiyong had always been intense when it came to his career, but never—not once—had he spoken to you like that. You had been his best friend for years, his shoulder to lean on when things got too heavy. And yet, the moment you expressed concern, he shoved you away like you were nothing.

Was that really how he saw you? Just some nobody?

You blinked back the fresh sting of tears. No. You refused to let yourself dwell on it anymore. Instead, you did what you always did when life became too much—you threw yourself into work.

Extra shifts, late nights, anything to keep your mind occupied. And it worked… for the most part. But when Saturday rolled around, that familiar ache settled in your chest like a weight you couldn’t shake.

You had never missed one of Jiyong’s home shows. Not once. From his first-ever performance to the biggest sold-out stadiums, you were always there, watching from the V.I.P section, cheering him on. But this time? This time, you weren’t even sure if he wanted you there.

So, you made the decision. You picked up an extra shift at the bar. Saturday nights were always hectic, and if nothing else, at least the tips would be good.

Still, as you got ready for work, your heart ached. It felt wrong not being there.

You glanced at your phone. Zero messages from Jiyong. Nothing. He wasn’t even going to check in. Not even a half-assed apology. Your fingers tightened around your phone, debating one last time if you should reach out.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath before quickly typing out a message.

“I love you, Ji. Good luck at your show tonight.”

Short. Simple. To the point.

You sent it before you could overthink it, shoving your phone into your bag and focusing on finishing your makeup.

-

Meanwhile…

Jiyong sat in the dressing room, his body slumped against the couch. His vision swam as he stared at his phone, your message illuminating the screen. His hands trembled as he gripped the device tighter, reading and rereading your words.

"I love you, Ji."

God, his chest ached.

His head was pounding, his skin slick with sweat despite the AC blasting in the room. He was exhausted—more exhausted than he had ever been in his life. His entire body ached, his muscles screaming in protest with every movement. He had barely eaten in days, barely slept. And now, the crushing weight of knowing you weren’t here—knowing that he had done this, that he had driven you away—was suffocating him.

She should be here, he thought bitterly.

You were always there. Always in the crowd, always waiting for him backstage with a knowing smile and a bottle of water, telling him how proud you were. No matter what, you were there.

But not tonight.

And it was his fault.

“Jiyong, are you okay?”

He barely registered his stylist’s voice until he felt the cool press of her hand against his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” she muttered, concern evident in her tone.

“M’fine…” he mumbled, swatting her hand away weakly.

She frowned but didn’t argue, instead focusing on finishing his hair, even though the strands were already damp from the sweat clinging to his skin. No amount of styling product would keep it in place—not with the way his body was overheating.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to push through the exhaustion. One hour until showtime. Just one more hour.

But even as he tried to rest, the shivering wouldn’t stop.

“Jiyong!”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of Seunghyun and Taeyang’s voices.

“What?!” he snapped, his patience paper-thin.

The two men exchanged a glance before Taeyang took a cautious step forward. “Dude… you don’t look so good.”

Jiyong scoffed, turning onto his side to face the couch. “Fuck off, I’m fine…” His body trembled violently, contradicting his words. “Just leave me alone.”

Seunghyun frowned. “You’re sweating like hell, and you’re shaking, Ji. You seriously think you can get through a full show like this?”

Jiyong gritted his teeth, forcing himself to sit up. “I said I’m fine,” he ground out, even though the room spun around him.

The others weren’t convinced. They had seen Jiyong push himself too far before, but this? This was different. He looked pale—too pale. And the way his shoulders trembled, the way his breaths came out shallow and labored, sent a deep sense of unease through them all.

“We need to tell the manager,” Seunghyun finally said. “If he collapses on stage, it’s gonna be bad.”

Jiyong let out a bitter laugh. “I won’t collapse.”

“Bullshit,” Taeyang muttered. “You can barely sit up.”

The room fell into tense silence before Daesung finally spoke up. “I’m gonna call Y/n.”

Jiyong’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “No,” he croaked, but it was weak, barely a whisper.

“She can help,” Daesung insisted, already pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, good idea,” the others agreed.

Jiyong clenched his jaw, his fists tightening in his lap. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him like this—to see him so weak, so broken.

But deep down, past all the pride, past all the self-inflicted suffering…

He just wanted you.

Because no matter how badly he fucked up, no matter how much he pushed you away…

You were the one person who could always put him back together.

The moment you stepped away from the bar, you broke into a sprint toward the bathroom, your heart hammering against your ribs. Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket, each vibration sending a fresh wave of anxiety through you. Hands trembling, you yanked it out, eyes widening at the flood of missed calls.

Daesung. Seunghyun. Taeyang.

Something was wrong.

You barely had time to inhale before hitting Daesung’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“Y/n, Jiyong needs you.” His voice was tight, urgent.

Your stomach clenched. “What’s going on? I’m at work.”

“I think it’s a panic attack or something. I don’t know—he won’t let any of us help him. Y/n, please, just come.”

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching. “I don’t… I don’t think he wants me there, Daesung. We had a fight. He—he said some things…”

“He’s shutting down, Y/n. Our manager is thinking of canceling the show.” His voice cracked, desperation seeping through the line. “You’re his best friend. If anyone can get through to him, it’s you.”

Your fingers dug into the bathroom counter. The things Jiyong had said to you still echoed in your head, sharp and unforgiving. But was that really him talking? Or was it exhaustion twisting his words, pushing him past reason?

He was your person. Your best friend. And right now, he needed you.

“I’m on my way.” You hung up, moving quickly to gather your things, but before you could slip out, your boss caught sight of you.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? It’s packed out there—we need you!”

“I’m sorry, sir. Family emergency,” you stammered, throwing your apron onto the counter.

“If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back.”

You met his glare, then—without a second thought—flipped him off and stormed through the crowded kitchen to the back door, heart hammering as you reached your car. You tossed your bag onto the passenger seat and peeled out of the parking lot, heading straight for the stadium. The city lights blurred past you, neon signs flickering against the darkening sky.

Your phone rang again. It was Daesung. “Hey, I’m almost there. Where do I go?” you asked breathlessly.

“You’re on the list,” Daesung said. “Just head backstage.”

You barely parked before jumping out of the car, navigating through the maze of security and flashing lights. The walls of the venue were lined with photos of legendary musicians, their eyes seeming to watch you as you ran past. Your pulse thrummed in your ears.

Then you heard Daesung call your name. “Y/n!” Daesung waved you over, his relief evident.

You didn’t waste a second. Following him down the hall, you turned a sharp corner and stepped into the dressing room. The air inside was thick with tension.

Jiyong sat hunched over, his elbows braced on his knees, his face pale and drawn. A paramedic stood beside him, pressing an ice pack to his head, murmuring something you couldn’t hear.

“Ji…” Your voice came out softer than you intended, your heart twisting at the sight of him. “What happened?”

His head lifted at the sound of your voice. His dark eyes met yours, wide and glassy.

Then, as if gravity had yanked him forward, he surged up from the couch and threw himself into your arms. His entire body trembled against you, his grip so tight it nearly stole your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking.

You barely had time to steady yourself before he buried his face in your shoulder. His weight pressed into you, as if you were the only thing holding him up.

“Ji…” you whispered, your hands sliding up his back, fingers threading into his hair. “I’ve got you.”

His breath came in shuddering gasps. “I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have said those things. I should have listened to you—I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. I—” His voice cracked, raw and desperate. “I’m just so fucking sorry.”

The others watched silently as he clung to you, their faces a mix of relief and quiet concern.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, rubbing slow circles into his back. “I forgive you.”

His shoulders shook as he let out a quiet sob, the dam finally breaking. The weight of exhaustion, pressure, and regret poured out of him all at once.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” you asked over his shoulder, still holding him.

Daesung nodded, ushering the others out. The paramedic handed you an ice pack and a bottle of water, giving you a small nod before exiting.

Jiyong let you guide him back to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. He wiped at his tear-streaked face, sniffling as you handed him the water. You pressed the ice pack gently to the back of his neck.

“Ji, tell me what happened.”

He took a slow sip, his voice hoarse. “I fucked up, Y/n.” He shook his head. “You were right. I shouldn’t have pushed myself so hard. I—” He exhaled sharply. “I’m exhausted. And then you weren’t here, and I just… I don’t know. I lost it.”

You hesitated. “I didn’t think you wanted me here after what you said to me.”

His gaze snapped up to meet yours, guilt swimming in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it. Not for a second. I was out of my head, Y/n. I’ve been beating myself up over it for days, but I was too ashamed to call.”

Your heart softened. You reached for him, pulling him close and pressing a light kiss to his temple. “I know, Ji.” You stroked his hair gently. “I just worry about you.” A quiet pause. “I love you.”

His breath hitched. “Can you ever forgive me?” he asked, his voice small. His big, innocent eyes searched yours, raw and vulnerable.

You let out a soft laugh, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Of course I can. Just don’t ever say some dumb shit like that again.”

A weak smile tugged at his lips. “Cross my heart.”

“Do you feel any better? Do you need to cancel the show?”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand. “You fix everything. You always do. You’re magic like that.” He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against them.

Shivers ran down your spine.

“Here.” You tugged him down gently. “Lay back. You have forty-five minutes until the show. Rest as much as you can.”

With a deep breath, he let himself relax against the couch, his fingers still loosely curled around yours. You ran a comforting hand through his hair, cooling him down with the ice pack.

-

“How’s he doing?” Taeyang and Seunghyun appeared in the doorway of the dressing room, their faces laced with concern but softened by the sight of Jiyong sitting upright.

“I’m fine,” Jiyong muttered, his voice still a little hoarse. He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling slowly before flashing them a sheepish smile. “Sorry for being such a prick…”

Taeyang let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “We’re just glad you’re okay, man.”

Seunghyun smirked, glancing between the two of you. “Y/n, I think we need to keep you around more often. Seems like you’re the only one who can get through to him.”

You grinned. “Well, I just lost my job, so I’m free whenever!”

“What?” Jiyong snapped his head toward you so fast it nearly gave him whiplash. His smile faded instantly, replaced by guilt and concern.

You waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine, Ji. My boss was a fucking dick anyway. I was gonna quit eventually.”

But Jiyong wasn’t convinced. He looked down, his fingers twisting the hem of his shirt as his jaw clenched. You could see the thoughts racing through his mind—this was his fault. Another thing to add to the weight he carried.

“Hey.” You softened, reaching out and tilting his chin up with your fingers, forcing his eyes to meet yours. “You’re more important, yeah?”

His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly before he muttered, “M’sorry…” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.

Your heart clenched. Without thinking, without hesitation, you leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

He froze for half a second, as if his brain was struggling to process what was happening. But then, slowly, he melted into you, his hands coming up to cradle your face as he deepened the kiss.

It was hesitant at first—uncertain, full of unspoken words—but then something shifted. His fingers tightened against your skin, his lips moving with more urgency, more need. Like he had been waiting for this just as long as you had.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you both jolt apart.

“Uh… show time in five,” Seunghyun said, eyes wide with amusement before he and Taeyang practically ran out of the room, leaving you and Jiyong in breathless silence.

As you pulled back just slightly, your noses brushed, his breath warm against your lips. His dark eyes were searching yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“W-what was that for?” he stammered, voice cracking slightly.

You bit your lip, hoping you hadn’t just overstepped everything. “Good luck,” you whispered, offering him a small smile.

Jiyong blinked at you, stunned. Then, to your surprise, his lips curled into a slow, boyish grin before he cupped your face and kissed you again. This time, it wasn’t hesitant—it was filled with silent promises, unspoken confessions, and years of built-up longing neither of you had dared to acknowledge until now.

You smiled against his lips, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“Now go!” you laughed, gently shoving him toward the door. “You don’t wanna miss your first show.”

Jiyong stumbled back slightly, his grin never faltering. As he reached the doorway, he hesitated, his fingers lingering on the frame as he turned to look at you.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” he asked, almost shyly.

Your expression softened. “I’ll always be here, Ji.”

Something in his eyes shifted, like he was silently thanking whatever higher power had brought you into his life. Then, with a final, wide smile, he spun on his heel and took off down the hall, his energy renewed.

From backstage, you watched him take the stage, his presence electrifying the entire stadium. The roar of the crowd was deafening, but all you could focus on was him.

And as he stood under the blinding lights, microphone in hand, he turned his head ever so slightly—just enough to catch a glimpse of you in the shadows.

A private smile ghosted across his lips.

Your stomach flipped.

This was only the beginning of a whole new chapter in your life.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

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[orleans-jester]

Frank hadn’t realized until just now how much he had missed this. Listening to the panic inside of someone’s head, especially the Aardvark’s. Bastien’s head was interesting, sure, but he nor his wife panicked. Neither did the other residents, like the Father, or the pirate boy. Oh, hearing it again was like listening to a favorite song after a long time.

He decided to up that panic, mess with him a little bit more.

“Quite,” He said, his thumb grazing against his bottom lip as he seemed to ponder what he was going to do to Arthur. He looked at the boy, because it was hard not to think of him as a boy when he looked so small and helpless like that. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be here long enough for me to do what I want to do as punishment.”

He stared into Arthur’s dark eyes. His own expression gave nothing away just then. “We’ll save it for when you come over next Halloween, little voyeur.”

Having Arthur sweat it out for the next year, anticipating something happening to him when he came back topside, was punishment enough, but Frank wasn’t going to let him think that. He was fighting back a smirk.

Arthur had a hard time not glancing at the blood off and on while conversing with Frank. He was trying to be casual as he could. Trying was the key word.

He thought he was doing a decent job of it. Thought was also a key word here tonight. He got what he wanted to warn the Delta about out. Ever loyal Arthur felt his loyalty was shown and he was in the clear and then-

Shit.

The panic welled in his throat as he searched for words. His thoughts raced. Did Frank ask because he already knew it was down there? Of course he already knew! How else would he know to ask such a thing?! Then how did he know?

Oh. Dear God.

He tried to keep smiling. He tried. Frank knew. Frank so knew.

Wait. If Frank knew? Delta.

Oh. Dear God.

Delta knew too. Those two were two dragony peas in a pod.

His face fell for the first time. True wonder of his fate despite already being dead. He'd heard the phrase fate worse than death. He wasn't sure what that could be, but he was sure Frank could think something up.

"Just tell me. How in trouble am I?"

Delta didn't say a word. She was leaving this one all to Frank. She was thankful for the intel. She'd have been more upset if he interrupted.

[euriiverse]

so completely obsessed with would you fall in love with me again and ofc i have to also make it about caleb and mc SOOOO walk with me, imagine mini ody and penelope's wedding bed argument but like caleb and mc but with the pendant she gave him before? DO YOU SEE THE VISION?

"...If that's true, could you do me a favor? Just a moment of labor? That would bring me some peace." AND THEN MC JUST LIKE IDK TRUDGES OVER THE BED??? OR A COUCH, BUT THE VISION IS SHE'S LIKE TRUDGING AWAY FROM CALEB WITH HER BACK FACING HIM THEN SHE TURNS, THE PENDANT IN HER HAND "See this metal pendant wedding bed?" "Could you carry it over? Lift it high with your evol(?)" and it's either she'll ask him to obliterate it into pieces or just yeet it off into deepspace. I've been listening to a lot of love songs and somehow I can't stop making them about Caleb. Once I get the guts to finally do it, I might create a That Would Be Enough and Would You Fall in Love with Me Again animatic with Caleb and MC i'm not even kidding. I just love Caleb sm i need to find a way to aggressively show him i love him the way he is and that he deserves the entire world and that him being alive is everything.

[carefreecoffee]

.~°~•~.~°Fluffbruary Day 3: Music w/ Shigaraki Tomura.~°~•~.~°

Word count: 507, Gender-neutral reader

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! You’re popped out of your slumber by a loud knocking at your room door. It had to be at least 3am, no way anyone in the league was either here or awake. You grumbled before making your way over to the door, cracking it open. “Huh…? Shigaraki, what are you doing?” You rub your eyes, trying to focus them from the light coming in behind him. 

The nature of your relationship was..less than professional compared to the others. Lingering looks, touches and even conversations had you two drifting closer in no time. Recently it had seemed that he was keeping his distance much to your confusion, so seeing him here now at your doorway was bewildering. Without a word he throws what seems to be a jacket at you, a small ‘oomf’ leaving your mouth as you look at him quizzically. 

“You left your damn hoodie in the lounge again, idiot” He scowls before walking away, not giving you another chance to think about it. You stand there dumbfounded, “Thank…you..?” You close your door, the dark enveloping you once more. With a sigh, you put it on as you walked back over to your sad excuse of a bed. A mattress and a.. Blanket? Sheet? Funding for the league has been lackluster lately but oh well, at least you still have your hoodie to substitute. 

Crack.

Huh? You hear something hit the floor. It was a cassette tape, was it in the hoodie? You pick it up, looking over it in the dim lighting of the moon, it had the word “Listen” scrawled onto the side. Sighing, you turn on a lamp, illuminating the room enough to find your cassette player, gently pushing it in and turning it down to a respectable volume. 

Songs played one after another, nothing like any bands you’ve heard, probably something he had uncovered in the mess that was his room. However, the songs evolved into less sound and more…melody. Why had he given you something that seemed so sentimental? 

A creak breaks you out of your trance, looking up to find shigaraki standing in your doorway, the door open a tad. That was his signature at this point, just observing without much care or thought. 

“Jesus, Shigaraki, could’ve at least kno-” 

“Do you like it?” 

You glance up at him curiously, “Huh? I mean- yeah. But why'd you give something like this to me?” His answer is delayed, a sense of nervousness coming from him. 

“Tch, it was nothing, just forget it” He doesn't seem to leave, even if he was so dismissive. You turn back to the player, smiling softly “I like it, thank you.” Thank god you weren't looking toward him. The blush that had broken out and crawled its way up his neck was unbelievably obvious at this point.

Even if he couldn't be perfect or what you deserved in the long run, he was still willing to do whatever he could to bring that smile back to your face, one way or another.

[sheaabuttaababyy]

Hall of Fame - RR

Roman reigns x oc Ciara

Smut 18+, fluff

"Ow shit" Ciara hissed moving her head away from Andre her hairstylist, rubbing her forehead where he burned her with the hot comb.

"Girl I told yo ass to stop moving" he said continuing to hot comb her hair.

"It’s not my fault you played Luther. You know that song gets me moving" Ciara slightly danced in her chair singing the lyrics.

"Exactly why you got burnt" Andre slapped her shoulder making her stop her movements mugging him.

Ciara was currently in her hotel room with her glam team getting ready to go with her husband to the WWE Hall of fame.

"How you feeing, Are you excited." Maria her personal Makeup Artist asked as she did Ciara’s makeup.

"Yes I am even though I know it’s gonna be a busy day, I’m happy I get to spend time with Joe. You know. I love our kids, but I really need me and him time right now. We’ve both been extremely busy him with wrestling and me with music, so I just wanna enjoy this weekend with him" Ciara smiled softly thinking about her husband. She loved him to death.

Both Andre and Maria let out a "awwh" making Ciara laugh.

"I know y’all gonna have some good fucking tonight. mhmm" Andre said nodding his head.

"I agree. No disrespect girl but your man is soo finee I know he be breaking your shit in" Maria spoke whistling.

"He do." Ciara spoke smirking and the other two let out whistles.

After an hour Ciara hair and makeup was done. Now her team was just smoothing down and fixing her dress.

Ciara was in-front of a full body mirror that was in the hotel room putting on her earrings, as a knocking sound was at the door. "Come in."

looking through the mirror she saw Joe walk in dressed in his all black suit with his hair back in a bun.

He came behind her standing a couple inches away as he took in how beautiful his wife looked. Her brown skin glowing, her hair up in a bun showing her insanely gorgeous face and her beautiful seductive eyes. And don’t get him started on the black dress that hugged her thick body perfectly. Ciara was always insanely thick but after having their kids she grew even thicker and he loved it.

Stepping closer he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Continuing just staring at her through the mirror still mesmerized.

"Why you staring like that?" Ciara softly spoke feeling shy under her husbands gaze.

"You look so beautiful Ci." Kissing her shoulder he slowly trailed light kisses up all the way to her neck . "So. So. So. Sooo beautiful" he kissed all over her neck making her giggle at the ticklish feeling of his beard.

"Thank you love, you look so handsome" slightly turning her head she puckered her lips wanting a kiss. Joe leaned down kissing her making sure not to ruin her lip combo.

Pulling away they both smiled. "I love you" Ciara spoke pecking his lips again. "I love you too baby" Joe leaned down giving her 2 more pecks.

"Why can’t I have love like that" Andre spoke quietly to Maria as he fake wiped his tears.

Joe and Ciara were now in their Limo heading towards the Hall of Fame.

Her head was resting against his shoulder careful so she didn’t mess up her bun.

"Oh I almost forgot" Joe spoke making her look towards him. He dug into his pocket before putting out a diamond necklace. Ciara’s eyes went wide seeing the beautiful jewelry. "Holy shit. Joe is that for me?"

"Noo it’s for the chauffeur" the sarcasm made Ciara playfully smack him as he smiled. "Turn your ass around so I can put it on you baby"

Listening she turned around as Joe placed the cold diamonds on Ciara clipping it. Taking her phone camera flipping it towards her she saw how the diamonds were glistening. "Ooooh not my man icing me out. Thank you boo" she said pecking his lips.

Having still a 15 minute drive Joe decided to quickly give his mom a ft call so they could check up on the kids real quick. "Hey ma we wanted to check up and talk to the kids real quick"

"Their good. Baby boy is right here with me. Say hi to mama and daddy Kayden"

"Ohhh hiii my sweet boy mommy misses you baby" Ciara cooed making Kayden smile trying to grab the phone.

"Where’s Kira and Jacob" Joe asked his mom. "Jacob is playing his game in the living room and Kira is with him. Here I’ll pass them the phone"

A smiled formed on both Joe and Ciara’s face seeing the excitement coming from their kids when they noticed their parents.

"Oh my gosh mommy you look so pretty" Kira gushed seeing her mother.

"Awhh thank you my sweet girl."

"What about me sweetie do I look pretty" Roman started playfully doing dramatic poses making their kids laugh.

After talking to them a bit more they said their goodbyes. "Okay mommy and daddy gotta go but you guys be good for your grandma okay. We love you"

"Love you too, byeee" the kids said before hanging up.

Ciara sighed leaning against Joes side her head on his chest. "We have really cute kids"

"Well of course we do their mother literally looks like a goddess"

"Nah it’s cause their daddy is this fine ass Greek god" she said looking up at him, already seeing that his eyes were set on her.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm" nodding her head, Joe leaned his head down, Slowly kissing her lips into a passionate kiss. The kiss got more heated by the second both of them completely forgetting where they were going.

"Hmm. Wait wait you gone fuck up my makeup boy" Ciara broke away grabbing her phone to check her face. Surprised at the fact her lips were perfectly fine just less glossy.

"Let’s just leave and go back to the hotel" Joe spoke kissing all around her upper shoulder.

"are you crazy? Your literally speaking tonight"

Sighing he pulled away leaning back "Fuck I forgot about that."

The car came to a stop as the sound of shouting and camera flashes were surrounding them. One of the security guards opened the car door as Joe stepped out before giving his hand to his wife helping her out.

Wrapping a protective arm around her waist he guided her inside inside towards the red carpet area.

They stepped up to the red carpet where all the paparazzi was. Joe wrapped his left arm around her lower waist as her body was slightly turned against him her left hand resting against his chest.

"ROMAN OVER HERE"

"CIARA LOOK ON YOUR LEFT "

"MR AND MRS REIGNS ON YOUR RIGHT"

After the pictures, they were now standing with one of the carpet interviewers.

"Well first I wanna start to say Roman and Ciara it’s such an honour to meet you both. Wow" as they both smiled nodding their head.

Wrapping up the interview Joe grabbed her hand taking her to the back where all the wrestlers were going to be.

"Oh my goddd you look gorgeous" Trinity ran up to Ciara pulling her into a tight hug.

"So do you!" she said grabbing her hand spinning her around.

She caught up and talk to a few people as some of them went into the stadium part to do their walk.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah I am. Wait aren’t you doing ur speech?"

"Yes I am" Joe spoke as he smoothed down his suit. "So why would I walk out with you this is your moment"

"I don’t care your walking with me" grabbing her hand he went near the entrance as they waited for his music to hit.

When it did they walked down towards the stage hand in hand, as the whole arena threw up a one acknowledging him.

Getting to the stairs of the stage he placed a kiss on Ciara’s lips the crowd cheering loudly as he did. He walked up the stage as Ciara’s stood off to side where the others were sitting.

As he gave his speech Paul came out giving Joe a hug before he took over the stage speaking. Joes theme hit again walking to me taking my hand as we exited out.

It’s now 10 pm and they were at a little after party. Currently Ciara was dancing with Trinity, savelina and Bianca. She was slightly tipsy as she was sipping on her 5th glass of champagne.

Once the DJ started playing afrobeats her waist started whining immediately. Slowly she rotated her hips to the music.

She made eye contact with Joe who was standing off to the side at a table watching her with a smirk on his face. Bending down arching her back more she effortlessly made her ass move, making it move like water through her dress.

"Nah I gotta catch that" she heard Savelina say as she stood behind Ciara trying to catch her ass, making stand up and laugh.

A few songs later and Ciara was now a little more than tipsy as she made her way to Joe. Spotting her he took one last sip of his drink putting it on the table as she wrapped her arms around him snuggling her face into his chest.

"You alright baby?" Kissing her forehead he wrapped his arms around her rubbing his left hand up and down her back.

"Yes I just wanna be in your skin" Joe chuckled at her words before looking at his cousins who were watching them in amusement.

"Yup. It’s time for us to go" Joe announced as he dapped up his cousins saying bye.

"Aight man y’all stay safe" Jey said

"don’t have too much fun kids" Jimmy clown ass spoke making Joe shake his head.

"Let’s go my love" He tried guiding her to the exit but she wasn’t budging. Joe knowing what she wanted grabbed the back of her thick thighs, lifting her up with ease.

As he walked them outside to their private Limo she randomly started caressing his face singing one of her songs to him. "You don’t know need no other body. Only you fi hold my bodyyyy"

"That’s right baby I’m glad you know” kissing her cheek she squealed making him laugh as he rounded the car.

Placing her in he shut the door going to the other side getting in.

Soon as he went in he was met with Ciara’s lips on his he made a moaning sound against her mouth surprised by the action.

She straddled his lap, his hands automatically moving to her ass gripping it before giving it a slap. "mhmm I need you Joe" she whimpered as her body began to get hot.

Her body craving and needing him.

"Me too baby I need your warm, wet pussy wrapped around my dick"

The two of them made out, their hands touching each other’s body in need. Joe pulled away as the car barley went to a stop, before he opened the door carrying Ciara who’s legs were wrapped around his waist tightly.

He walked at a fast pace towards the hotel entrance, all the way to the elevator doors not caring about the people that were there staring at them.

Once he pressed the button to the floor and the doors closed their lips met again. He hiked her body up higher his hands now holding her up by her ass that was over flowing in his hands. It’s like they were drunk off of each other.

They continued to make out slowly as he walked them to their door. Pulling away to find the keycard Joe dug in his pocket as Ciara made herself busy by sucking and licking Joes neck.

Finding the card the door unlocked. Walking into the large hotel room, Joe placed his wife on the king size bed, making her body bounce up and down softly.

Keeping his eyes on her she watched him take his suit off. Standing naked, he yanked her to the edge of the bed flipping her on her stomach, zipping her dress down.

He kissed down her back peeling the fabric off her body as the lower his kisses went down. Once her dress went past her ass he tenderly put open mouth kisses all over both cheeks, giving her little nibbles along the way.

Taking her dress fully off along with her thong that a string of her sticky juices on it. he laid down on the bed with his head supported by a pillow.

"Come sit" his husky command filling the air.

"I can’t. I’ll suffocate you"

Grabbing her arm he yanked her towards him so her lower half was hovering his face. "Good"

Gripping her upper thighs he pulled her down so she was fully seated on his face. "Oh shit" Ciara whimpered as Joe’s tongue flicked at her sensitive bundle of nerves.

He hummed into her pussy loving the way she tasted. Wrapping his lips around her clit he sucked it into his mouth shaking his head from side to side.

Ciara let out a low scream trying to pull away as he ate her up as if he was starving. He pulled away slightly to get a breath in.

Looking down Ciara saw that his face was red from the lack of oxygen and how his hair was out and wild. His beard soaked and covered in his wife’s sticky n creamy juices.

Shooting her a wink he brought his face back to her pussy sucking her clit again. Brining two of his fingers up he inserted them into her, fingering her at a steady pace. "Ooooh fuck daddy I’m gonna cum"

Ciara rotated her hips feeling her orgasm approaching. "I feel it baby, come for me. Let me see that pretty pussy come in daddy’s mouth"

"Mhmmm fuck" Ciara came hard shaking on top of Joe’s face her juices splashing all over him as he greedily lapped up every drop.

Ciara came down from her high scooting down a bit. Now sitting in her husbands lap.

"Wanna see how good you taste baby?" Joe asked Ciara as she lazily nodded her head.

He brought his fingers back into her. Groaning at how tightly she wrapped around his fingers. Her mouth parted letting out a whine as he stroked her sensitive pussy.

Taking them out he brought his creamy fingers to her lips. wrapping her warm wet mouth around them slowly Ciara, bobbed her head up and down staring with her seductive eyes, as she sucked his fingers as if it was his dick.

"Your so fucking sexy" gripping her neck he pulled her into a passionate kiss, their tongues clashing as they both tasted Ciara off each other’s mouths.

Laying Ciara on her back, he sat on his knees. Spreading her legs before grabbing the base of his hardened dick guiding it to her entrance.

Slowly he sunk himself into her warm, soft, sticky walls. "Oh fuck, you feel so good" giving her slow deep strokes so she could feel every. Inch. Of. him.

"Mhmm…shit Joe I feel you"

"Yeah? Where you feel me?" Leaning down he captured her right nipple. Sucking it into his mouth.

Ciara let out a gasp at the combination of joe sucking her nipples and hitting that certain spot inside her. "Ooooh in my s-stomach. Fuck"

He continued his hard deep strokes before shifting his position. Getting back on his knees he threw Ciara’s right leg over his shoulder as the other was in the crook of his arm.

He felt his nut coming causing him speed up his strokes. "Fuck Ci I’m close, where you want it?"

"In me. put a baby in me daddy"

He smiled at her bold answer. Bringing his head down he captured his lips with hers. "You want a baby?" Ciara nodded a pout forming on her beautiful face as Joe’s dick was becoming too much for her to handle."

"Ima make sure you get pregnant tonight. Have you walk around with a swollen belly for the next nine months"

Ciara moaned at her husbands words feeling her second orgasm coming.

"Come with me baby. Come with me" he put his sweaty forehead against hers as both of them came.

"Awwh look at that. That’s baby number four" Joe let a chuckle as Ciara legs quivered. Pulling out he watched how his nut slowly spilled out her. "Nah put that shit right back in" he scooped up what spilled with his fingers putting them right back in her.

"Shit. Joe I’m sensitive"

Slapping her ass he got up standing at the edge of the bed. "Too bad. Now arch that shit, you said you wanted a baby, now that’s what ima give you" she let out a laugh/scream and he pulled her towards him.

After multiple rounds on the bed and some in the shower. Joe and Ciara were now cuddled up, their warm naked bodies under the sheets. Her laying on top of him as he was rubbing her ass lovingly.

"Do you think you actually got me pregnant?" Ciara asked tracing her finger along Joes tatted peck.

"100%. I’ll be surprised if you aren’t to be honest"

"Your crazy" she laughed pinching his tiny nipple playfully.

"Hey your the one who said. Put a baby in me daddy Ughh yess" he spoke mocking his wife’s moans.

Ciara looked at him in disbelief. "I can’t fucking stand you" giggling she tried getting off him but Joe didn’t let her. His left arm wrapped tightly around her waist as the right continued to massage her ass.

"Yo ass ain’t going anywhere" he spoke kissing her forehead making Ciara hum and snuggle in his chest.

Ciara felt her eyes close slightly as she began to doze off. "I love you Joe" she murmured against his chest feeling sleep take over.

"I love you too baby" he spoke as both of them eventually dozed off in each other’s arms.

Sorry for any errors, this was kinda rushed

I like this little couple I might write more about them idk

Btw Jacob is 9,

Kira is 7

kayden is 2

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist

🏷 taglist @usoinked @mselenalovebug @theusotwinzcom @bloodlineslut @urbeez @punksyeet @4milly @luvrsluxe @trippinsorrows @catxo

[kathlare]

emails i can't send

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando picks up Luisinha from the airport, but an unspoken tension lingers between them. As Amelie’s debut album emails i can't send dominates conversations online, Luisinha struggles with the media’s obsession over Lando and Amelie’s past.

Wordcount: 1.3 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

July 15th, 2022 - London, United Kingdom

liked by alexwolffofficial, jackdayman, and others

ameliedayman: emails i can't send is out now 💌

this feels really surreal, i kind of had to unlearn myself and learn myself again in order to make this album. it's the one i'm most proud of thus far in my life. it's the one i hope you listen to and feel like we were hanging and confiding in each other for an hour. me and the mic were like this the whooole time 🤞🏼 i never thought i would finish it because it was really scary to close the chapter. but i closed it so you can open it! and i hope you do. and i hope you love it. the way i have for so long.

couldn't have made it without some of the most special souls 🤍

rant over for nooow please stream this shit a lot if u don't mind it took me years to make lol

View all 921 comments

maddieziegler: Just finished listening and I’m SOBBING 😭👏 → ameliedayman: @maddieziegler Same, but in a happy way! 💌

stelladayman: Proud of you more than words can explain. Can't stop crying. → ameliedayman: @stelladayman Love you sis 💖

pitstoptea: THIS ALBUM DESERVES A GRAMMY, NO QUESTION.

hayesgrier: BANGERS ONLY. Can't believe this is YOUR voice, holy shit. → ameliedayman: @hayesgrier I'm still processing it too LOL! 😅

georgerussell63: My playlist just got a serious upgrade 🔥 → ameliedayman: @gerogerussell63 Glad you approve!! 😏🔥

pitstopgossip: Amelie’s growth is unmatched. I’m addicted to every track.

charles_leclerc: You did it, you absolute legend. This is what dreams are made of. → ameliedayman: @charles_leclerc Feeling like a dream, appreciate you so much 🖤

taylorswift: I knew this would be perfection. So proud of you. → ameliedayman: @taylorswift Coming from you, I’m crying 💖

emmachamberlain: Just played it from start to finish, it’s everything. → ameliedayman: @emmachamberlain THANK YOU for the love, it means so much!! 💖

nikki_kaz: Honestly, we didn’t deserve this album, but I’m so glad we got it.

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Lando pulled into the airport parking lot, the familiar hum of his car a dull background noise to the swarm of thoughts buzzing in his mind. His relationship with Luisinha had been going smoothly lately—at least, it seemed that way on the surface. The media frenzy surrounding his past with Amelie had faded for the most part, but there was still the occasional article, the comments, the whispers. Lando hadn’t really paid attention to any of it. Until now.

Today, Amelie’s debut album, emails i can't send, had dropped. He hadn’t listened to it yet, but he couldn’t escape the chatter. Fans, journalists—everyone had been speculating about which songs were about him. The whole thing was uncomfortable. Lando had tried to avoid it, but he had the sinking feeling that it was about to be front and center again.

He spotted Luisinha as she exited the terminal, her hair catching the sunlight, her small frame moving through the crowd with the grace that always seemed to make heads turn. She was smiling as she waved at him, but there was something off about the way her eyes met his.

Lando parked and jumped out of the car, walking towards her. She had always been the kind of person who carried herself with confidence, but today, there was something subdued about her.

—Hey,— Lando said, greeting her with a quick kiss on the cheek. He noticed how she seemed to stiffen, almost imperceptibly, but didn’t think much of it at first.

—Hey,— she replied, forcing a smile. But there was something in her voice that caught his attention. It was quiet, distant.

They both climbed into the car, the awkward silence between them settling in. Lando tried to make small talk, asking her how her flight was, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation. She stared out of the window, her lips pressed together, clearly not paying attention to anything he was saying.

Lando couldn't ignore the tension that seemed to hang in the air. He glanced at her a few times as he navigated the streets, trying to figure out what was going on. Luisinha had always been easy to talk to, but today, something was different. She was distant, her usually warm presence almost cold.

He exhaled, glancing over at her again. —You okay?— he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

Luisinha didn’t immediately answer, but she shifted in her seat, adjusting her legs as if she were uncomfortable. Finally, after a long silence, she spoke, her voice quieter than usual. —Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired from the flight. Nothing to worry about.—

Lando frowned, unconvinced. He knew her well enough to know that something was off, and the more she brushed it off, the more frustrated he became. —Don’t lie to me, Lu. I can tell you’re not okay. What’s going on?— he pressed.

She let out a small, almost defeated sigh, before turning to face him. Her lips parted as if she were about to speak, but she hesitated, the words caught in her throat.

Lando’s patience wore thin. —Look, I know something’s up. Just tell me.—

Luisinha's fingers gripped the edge of her seat as she finally spoke, her voice cracking slightly. —It’s just… all this shit with Amelie, Lando.—

He shot her a glance, not fully understanding. —What do you mean?—

Her eyes flashed, her brow furrowing. —The media. The fucking fans. They’re still talking about you two. I thought it was over, but now with her album out, fuck, now it’s even worse. Everyone’s fucking speculating about the songs. Everyone’s saying they’re about you.—

Lando’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles going white. He knew where this was going, but he couldn’t hold back his irritation. —I can’t control what people say or what they think, Luisinha. You know that. I don’t care about the fucking rumors.—

Luisinha’s face flushed with frustration. —But I do! It’s not like I can just ignore it! It’s everywhere! The fucking media’s obsessed with you two, and I can’t fucking stand it!— Her voice was getting louder, more agitated. —I’m supposed to just sit here while people talk about how you two were this perfect couple? When I know you were with her, when I know how things were between you two?—

Lando exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. He felt the anger bubbling up inside him. —I never asked for this. I never asked for them to keep bringing her up! I’m not the one who fucking wrote the album!— He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, making the car jerk slightly.

Luisinha recoiled, her face paling. Her eyes flickered with hurt. —You didn’t have to do anything. You were a part of her life, and now she’s putting it all out there. It’s like I don’t even matter to you because this is still hanging over us!— She shook her head in disbelief, her voice quieter now, but no less hurt. —You don’t even seem to care that it’s making me uncomfortable. That it’s making me feel like shit. That it’s making me feel like I’m just another footnote in your fucking history.—

Lando’s anger flared, and he didn’t hold back. —It’s not my fucking fault she decided to put all this shit out there, okay? I’m not the one who’s still stuck on the past! It’s not like I fucking planned for any of this to happen, but here we are. Deal with it. I’m not gonna apologize for her album or for whatever people want to think!— His words hung in the air, harsh and biting.

Luisinha went silent. The hurt in her eyes was clear, but it only seemed to make her angrier. She turned her head away from him, staring out of the window, her lip trembling slightly. The tension in the car was suffocating.

After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice low and strained. —I don’t want to be here right now. Drop me off at a hotel, Lando. I can’t be with you like this.—

Lando felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly overshadowed by frustration. —Lu, come on, don’t do this. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just—shit, I don’t know what you want me to say! It’s not like I can fix any of this, okay?— He was pleading now, his voice softer, but the damage had already been done.

Luisinha shook her head, her tone firm. —No. Just take me to the hotel. I need some space. You need some space. We’ll talk when I’m not so fucking pissed off. Right now, I just… I can’t.—

Lando’s heart sank. He wasn’t used to this—the coldness, the distance, the anger. He wanted to fix it, but everything he said only seemed to make it worse. The way she was looking at him, like she couldn’t even stand to be in the same car as him, made him sick to his stomach.

He didn’t argue. With a heavy sigh, he turned the car in the direction of the nearest hotel. The silence between them was almost unbearable. Lando couldn’t help but replay the argument in his head, wishing he could take back the things he’d said. But it was too late now.

When they finally arrived at the hotel, Luisinha didn’t wait for him to open the door. She got out of the car on her own, slamming the door behind her before walking briskly toward the entrance. Lando stayed in the car, watching her leave, his heart aching in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He didn’t want to feel like this. He didn’t want to have this fight. He just wanted things to be normal again.

But nothing felt normal anymore. Not with Luisinha. Not with Amelie.

Lando sat there for a long moment, the weight of everything pressing down on him. Finally, he pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over Amelie’s number. But he didn’t call. He didn’t text. Instead, he opened up the playlist for emails i can't send.

Maybe he needed to hear it.

Maybe he needed to remember.

But he didn’t know how much more he could take.

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