#i literally had his blood all over my hand

[prodagustd]

the road not taken 06 | myg

part five: all is fair in love and war

Summary: Not everything turned the way you wanted, but you were used to it.

<part five

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?), slow burn

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, fluff, flashbacks, *takes a deep breath* multiple smut scenes, protected sex and not so protected sex(?), fingering, explicit language, dom!yoongi if you squint, lots of teasing, lots of kissing, also DON’T open condoms with your teeth pls !! btw english is not my first language.

—words: 14k

—a/note: literally screaming as I write this bc I haven’t been so excited to post anything everrrr. omg this was so complicated to write it has my blood, sweat and tears on it!! hope you like it and as always I’m open to discuss this part in the asks (please do) (it’s an order)

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago

It wasn’t a surprise for you to know that Yoongi was a patient man. He never rushed things;  he knew how to wait, he knew the precise moments to act and when to hold back. Tonight was no exception. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry, taking his time as if the world had all the hours to spare just for you and him, he knew that the night itself was in his pocket.

He wasn’t wrong—the night was just beginning, and there was no reason to escape, rush, or leave early. But at this moment, you were anything but patient—not because you didn’t know how to wait, but because you had already waited long enough. From the way his fingers grazed your thighs during the car ride home to the kisses in the elevator, your impatience was growing rapidly. Every second felt drawn out, and you kept wondering how he could ignore the tension in the air, how you were sick with anticipation, on edge, waiting for his hands to touch you the way you truly wanted.

“It unzips from the back.” You whispered, breaking the silence of the quiet room. 

He saw your bright wide eyes shining in the dark, your swollen red lips and a strap of your dress falling off your shoulder, almost feeling guilty for all the things he was thinking of doing to you. 

“I know.” He breathed out, as if he hadn’t studied every part of your dress just hours before; where the zipper was, how long it was, how long it would take him to take it off.

You looked like you’d stepped out of one of his summer dreams, the kind that pulled him from his sleep, breathless and soaked in sweat in the middle of the night. Only this time he didn’t have to close his eyes and try to enter the same illusion again, he didn’t have to imagine the ending, he had you right there.

His lips moved slowly against yours, taking his time as his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch as though he wanted the moment to last forever. He ventured one hand up your back, searching for the zipper of your dress and finding it with ease. With a smooth tug, he pulled it down in one motion, leaving it loose. A tingling excitement swept through you as his hands slid beneath your dress, dragging the shiny fabric upwards against your skin, pulling it over your head to leave you almost naked, wearing only your underwear. 

A chill traced its way down your spine, and a cold breeze swept over your body. If you weren’t so turned on by the way he was looking at you—his dark eyes roaming over you, absorbing the sight of you—you’d be embarrassed about the fact that the only piece of clothing under that dress were your black lace panties, but the man on top of you didn’t seem bothered at all, in fact, he seemed more than satisfied.

His hands were soft against your skin, he ran his fingers down your waist, your hips and over the lace waistband of your panties, making your pulse accelerate. “You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, out of breath.

"You think?" You whispered. He bit his bottom lip, nodding as his palms slowly made their way up your torso, pressing your breasts, squeezing on the flesh and brushing his thumbs over your hardening tips. You let out a quiet whimper, arching your back to meet his touch. Yoongi immediately felt tight in his pants like he was a teenager. 

You quickly became addicted to his touch—the way his lips kissed yours with a fervor that ignited every nerve in your body, how he nipped playfully at your skin, leaving a trail of electric anticipation in their wake. The way he held you tightly, as if to ensure you wouldn’t move, but you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hm, and hot." He said, trailing open mouth kisses down your neck, nibbling your skin as if he was determined to mark it. His lips traveled from your collarbone to the valley of your breasts, you felt his breath against your skin and then his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue back and forth as his other hand brushed your other breast with his thumb just for the sake of driving you crazy. Yoongi was gentle, his moves were painfully slow, you couldn’t help but choke back a moan, arching your back forward already feeling dizzy. “I dreamt of having you like this” He breathed out, his lips going to your other breast, kissing your skin and leaving you undone. “So pretty and soft, all mine.”

You were sure he could see how his words affected you, that and the feeling of the fabric of his pants grazing over your core tortuously, his heavy breath and his hands over your body made you want to shut your legs off, clenching around nothing. “Yoongi…” You sighed, trying to sound firm but inevitably failing.  He hummed, pulling away before leaving a wet kiss on your skin. “This is not fair.” You huffed, making him gaze up, finding your hooded eyes observing him with furrowed eyebrows.  “How come you’re still dressed?”

For a moment, he wanted to laugh, but from the way you grabbed his shirt as if you wanted to rip it off, you seemed dead serious. The fact that you were practically naked in his bed wasn’t going to change your attitude towards him, and Yoongi knew that more than anyone; if there was one thing he had learned over the years was not to make you angry and even if you were far from being discontent, he was not trying to tempt the devil.

The confused look on Yoongi’s face melted away, placing a cheeky smirk on his lips right after. “I almost forgot how bossy you are.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, covering your breasts.  

“Am I bossy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He did not miss the warning tone that lingered on your voice. 

“You are… really cute.” He answered, dodging your question as he watched your frown disappear from your face, you smiled, accepting the compliment. He quickly unfastened all the buttons of his shirt, taking it off and throwing it away somewhere in the room, he was pleased to grant your wishes.

You bit your bottom lip, satisfied. It was a rare sight; you could count the amount of times that you saw Yoongi shirtless, including that one time last summer—but it was different this time, his frame was broader and his shoulders were wider, you could notice the subtle definition of his arms, of his chest, you swore it could drive you insane. Fuck that damn gym.

“This too?” He asked, his fingers tightening around the belt of his pants. You looked at him through your lashes, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. 

“That too.” You nodded eagerly, and he had no choice but to comply with your instructions; you were observing every move he made as you laid on his bed, with your hair scattered across the pillow looking at him like you could ask anything from him and he would give it to you. He wasted no time, straightened up and unbuckled his pants, managing to get rid of them easily. 

He bent close to you, his face inches away from yours as he locked your gaze with you, his hands reaching for the only piece of clothing that prevented you from being fully naked “What about this?” He asked, playfully curling his fingers on the waistband of your panties, his hot breath hitting your mouth. 

A tingling sensation filled you, and goosebumps spread across your skin as his fingers moved down your center, slipping between your tights and pushing your panties aside, gently gliding through your wet folds. He was careful, rubbing slow circles on your clit, teasing your entrance as if he were mocking you, playing with you. “Should I take this off?” His deep voice resonated in your ears. 

In a matter of seconds you felt yourself becoming completely vulnerable. You tilted your head, trying not to close your eyes. “Please…” You let out in a weak whisper, feeling your skin getting warmer. 

“Please?” He chuckled. “Please what?” 

You had been instantly pushed into a trance, you were too lost in the sensation to be embarrassed by how wet you already were. “Please, take it off…” You said, being washed by a wave of pleasure every time his finger taunted your entrance, only to come back to your clit, sending you closer and closer to the edge.

You were sure that with a few quick movements you could do that by yourself, but there was something about Yoongi being in control that made your stomach turn, and there was something about you, uncomfortably squirming under him, slowly moving your hips to meet his fingers and patiently waiting for his next move that made Yoongi feel like a caveman. 

“And then?” He continued to ask, “What should I do next?”

Then, like he knew exactly what buttons to push, he sank two of his fingers into you, curling inside you without further notice. You gasped softly, but the answer got stuck in your throat, lost in a sea of thoughts. One of his hands firmly gripped your thigh, spreading you out so he could have a better access to your pussy, sinking his fingers and pulling away so he could toy with your sensitive clit. 

You gripped his shoulders to find some balance while his fingers pulled out, gathering your wetness to fuck you again without hurry, taking his time so he could watch every expression you made, the soft frown in your face, your slightly parted lips, the way you bit your lip everytime you were about to make a loud sound, you were crumbling apart for him slowly, almost without noticing.

You shut your eyes, “Yoongi…” You moaned out.

“Yes?” 

You bit your lips, struggling to find the words. His voice sounded so gentle but his actions were so evil, you never imagined that Yoongi was going to be this bad, mocking and teasing you for his own satisfaction, and somehow, it felt like he fell from the sky just for you. 

“You’re being mean…” You whimpered, rolling your head back against the pillow. He slithered his hands over your chest, playing with your breast as you rolled your center against his hand, trying to chase the feeling. “Don’t play with me.”

Your voice and your words were laced with sin, he had never heard you talk in such a soft and tender manner, even if you were practically threatening him. 

Yoongi was aware he could only push the teasing so far, not only because you were too eager, but he also had to consider how tight he was feeling in his boxers, he knew he was in no position to keep playing with you. Still, he smirked, satisfied as he observed the way you melted in his hand. 

He brushed his nose over yours “What, do you want me to stop?” He said, a mocking tone in his voice. You would’ve been furious with him in any other scenario, but in this particular one you couldn’t help but feel completely flustered. 

You let out the most pathetic mewl sound you ever heard, shaking your head. 

“Mmm, thought so.” He chuckled, closing the distance between the two of you to catch your lips between his teeth and wrapped you in a fervent kiss. With an urgency, he grabbed a handful of your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tilted your head to the side and opening his mouth wide open, deepening the kiss. It seemed like the only right way to be kissed; hard, sloppy and messy, he eagerly licked your tongue in your mouth and managed to erase every coherent thought in your mind as he kept fucking you with his fingers, making you moan into his mouth.

It felt too good, his body against yours, his lips kissing you as if he was about to devour you, his fingers grazing over your clit every time he pulled them out of your pussy just to push them deep down inside you again. You wished you could prolong the moment for a few more seconds, but the familiar tight feeling on your stomach warned you that you were dangerously close to your climax.

Yoongi, incapable of keeping it together any longer, pulled his fingers out at the same time he broke the kiss apart, making you finch. You whined in protest, but he left a small kiss in the corner of your lips in hopes to keep you content. 

“Stop torturing me…” You said, already feeling frustrated. 

“Is this what you call torture?” Yoongi scoffed, his voice hoarse. He reached for the nightstand next to his bed, pulling open the drawer. You heard his hand quickly going over some clutter, removing things until he finally found what he was searching for. “What about me? Watching you about to cum while I’m fucking hard.” 

Your eyes inevitably traveled south, observing the outline of his cock under his tight boxers. You gulped, that view was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Even if he was struggling a bit with the whole situation, Yoongi knew he could die happily right there, he could not complain at all. 

When Yoongi noticed the way you were ogling him, your thoughts drifting elsewhere, he tried to catch your attention by holding up the small condom package in front of your face, its glossy surface glinting under the light. “Open it.” He just said. 

You paused for a brief second, then decisively bit the foil, opening it with your teeth.

Fuck. 

If Yoongi wasn’t completely hard before, now he felt he could explode right in this moment. 

“Fuck, you might kill me tonight," He breathed, surrender evident in his voice as his gaze lingered on you, trying maintaining his composure, though impatience was beginning to creep into his demeanor. You couldn’t help but smile. “Now let me take these off” He said, hooking one of his fingers on the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs and taking them off. You bit your lips in anticipation, watching the piece of clothing disappear from your eyesight. 

“It wasn’t that difficult after all.” You murmured, making him laugh. You would never miss an opportunity to pick a fight with him. 

“God, Pinky. Do you ever shut up?” He said, gripping the back of your thighs and bringing you closer to him. You rolled your eyes, but your attitude didn’t last very long; the next thing you saw were his hands, pushing down his underwear to let his cock spring free, almost making you choke with your own saliva. 

You suddenly shifted yourself up onto your elbows, ever so dramatic. “Yoongi…” You cried, giving him more than one reason to feel cocky right now. “I don’t know if I can take that.” A smirk tugged from the corners of his lips, one of his hands traveling down his length to jerk himself off, determined to drive you insane. You should’ve imagined that the fact that Yoongi was so confident and cocky was directly connected to how big he was; you wanted to punch him just for that alone. This wasn’t fair at all. 

Yoongi laughed, rolling the condom onto himself and shaking his head, not paying real attention to your concern. He settled himself between your legs, dragging his crown between your wet folds, you barely managed to bite back a moan, throwing your head against the pillows. “You’re soaking wet, baby. You can take it.” His voice sounded so deep it vibrated in your ears, the weight of his words filled with lust and the gentle feeling of the tip of his cock resting on your entrance were so overwhelming it almost made you miss the new endearment, but you heard it just right, even if you felt like were in the brink of madness, aching to feel him inside you.

“Then, hurry up.” You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. He chucked at that, never in a million years he thought he would have you like that, trapped under him, with a frown on your face, urging him to hurry up. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. 

“No need to rush, we have all night.” He simply said, as if he was purposefully trying to annoy you, but the truth was that, as patient as he could be, having you naked under him and not being inside you was beginning to do a number on him, too.

You let out a cry when he sank into you, slowly guiding himself deep inside your pussy, groaning. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good. “Take everything for me, be a good girl.” He said, his gaze meeting the way you sucked him whole, you were too far gone to make sense of anything else. Your whole body burned in flames, but it felt too good, you gasped when he pushed a leg against your torso, burying himself inside you and reaching your deepest point, you’ve never felt that full. “Look at that— fuck, you fit me just right.”

“Fuck. Yoongi, I-” You attempted to form a coherent sentence, furrowing your eyebrows as you felt his cock stretching you open, leaving you breathless. 

“How’s that, hmh?” 

Lacking a better response, you nodded, letting a small whimper leave your lips. “Please, move…” You mumbled, immediately feeling how he began to set a pace, moving languidly and enjoying how your body adjusted to him as he moved inside you. He slid his cock almost completely out of you, slamming back to meet your body once again, you felt yourself dripping down his length, certain that you were becoming a complete mess. “It’s so good.” You whimpered, not even thinking straight, you were completely focused on the way he was slipping in and out of your wet heat. 

Yoongi could only think how good you felt, just the view of you, overwhelmed with your eyes barely open, biting your lips so you made the least amount of noise possible, made his cock throb inside you, making him feel like he was on the verge of breaking. “You’re so tight, baby.” He moaned out, obsessed with the way you wrapped around him perfectly, the way your cunt pulled him back in every time he pulled away, the way your breast bounced in front of him as he drilled in and out of you. He was sure he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he knew that, considering that you were just about to cum a few moments ago, you weren’t going to last long either. “You look so pretty taking me, wish I could take a picture.”

“God- Yoongi…” You whimpered, his name slipping out, the only word you could grasp, filling every corner of your mind.. You felt your pleasure building in your belly and your thighs trembling as he kept thrusting inside you, “I’m not, oh-” Your voice got caught in your throat when you felt a particularly hard thrust hit your sweet spot, leaving you breathless. 

“You like it, baby?” He grunted against your neck leaving wet kisses on your skin as his thrusts deepened . You nodded several times, the only thing you could do was moan in response. “Tell me you like it.” 

“I- Yes, I love it, feels so good.” You slurred, feeling his lips kissing your jaw, your check and then catching your lips, kissing you softly, a gesture so gentle compared to the way he was fucking you open. 

He bit your lips tenderly “You feel so nice.” He murmured against your mouth, “Want to have you like this all night, would you let me?” Your voice was cut by a moan, as if you could find an answer for that anyway. “Would you let me fuck you all night?”

You were certain that his words were going to be engraved in your mind for a long time, you wouldn’t be able to forget the way he pronounced each syllable, compelling you into saying whatever he wanted to hear, how he looked at you without any kind of inhibition, how he touched you like your body was his only; you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

“Y-yes, please.” You moaned out, feeling yourself clench around him at the thought. 

“Such a good girl.” He said between huffs. “So perfect, like you were made just for me.”

Completely drunk on his compliments, you sobbed, digging your nails on his biceps once he began to sped his thrusts, he could see the desire spreading all over your face, moaning into his mouth “Fuck, right there.” You said in the prettiest of whimpers “I’m- so close.” 

“You gonna cum for me?” You didn’t need to tell him, he could feel the way you were throbbing around his cock, bouncing up and down and getting tighter with each thrust, it was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah, I’m-“ You struggled to finish the sentence, your thoughts were all tangled, your words stumbled upon each other, “It’s too much…” you could only feel the burning sensation between your legs, your wet thighs, his hips hitting against yours filling the room with filthy sounds. Somewhere in your mind there was a version of you that was worried about the sound of Yoongi’s headboard hitting the wall, or how loud both of you sounded, or the fact that Yoongi’s building was full of elder people who will have more than a reason to complain the next day, but if you were being honest, right now you couldn’t find the will to even care about it one bit. 

One of his hands reached to grab your jaw, making you look him straight into his eyes, but you were struggling to focus your crystallized gaze. “Want to see you cum for me.” He hissed, hypnotized by how pretty you looked, whimpering and sobbing around him. Without notice, one of his hands slithered between your bodies, running down your belly and meeting his fingers on your sensitive nub, tracing small circles on it to finish you.  “Be good for me, baby, cream my cock.”

“Fuck, d-don’t stop…” Your eyes fluttered shut, arching your back off the mattress as you felt yourself coming undone. You had never felt that way, so high on your own pleasure, a few more thrusts were enough to push yourself over the edge, tightly squeezing around him and moaning his name like a broken record. You dug your nails into his back, clinging to him as though you might collapse if you let go, but he helped you ride your high, even if the sight of you was about to push him to his breaking point. “That’s it, baby, I got you.” He said, his voice barely hanging by a thread.  His thrusts began to feel uncoordinated, a sign that he was not far from his release. “God, you’re so pretty, you’re gonna make me cum, too.” 

He crashed his lips onto yours, making you swallow all his moans as he fucked himself into you, reaching his climax. The room was filled with your heavy breath, muffled moans, the sound of his skin hitting against your as you finished milking him dry, with your forehead against his, murmuring his name in the dark as you both came down from your high.

You were tired, your whole body felt heavy and sore, but you still felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips kissed you, making you feel like you were in an alternate universe. 

“You’re not real.” He said, mesmerized as he met your teary eyes. You didn’t know where this Yoongi came from, but you didn’t want him to leave. 

You groaned, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re too much…” You said, hiding your face in his neck. 

You heard him chuckle as his body softened on top of you. “Get used to it.” 

Maybe it was time to admit that you were a bit messed up in the head, realizing you never quite knew when to let your guard down. You could excuse it by saying you'd spent so long building walls around yourself that you’d forgotten what it felt like to live without them, or you could just tell the truth and say that you were afraid.

As you rested in Yoongi’s bed, refusing to fall asleep, you observed him, wishing to be as clueless and unafraid of the future as him. 

You heard his muffled voice, Yoongi’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, as he refused to go to sleep just yet. “You never told me if you like me too.” He said as he hugged your waist.

You traced your fingers along the back of his neck, gently threading through his long hair at the nape.

“I don’t, what gave you the impression?” You joked, making him bite the skin of your neck for teasing him.

“C’mon…” He said, glancing up “Tell me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, his eyes barely open and the pout on his mouth while he asked you to confirm something obvious. 

“I like you, Yoongi. I really do.” You confirmed, as if it was ever necessary to do so.

“But since when?” He leaned in slightly, his gaze intense.

“I can't tell you that.”

He frowned, a hint of confusion crossing his face. “Why?”

You shrugged, trying to avoid his eyes. “Mmm... because it's embarrassing.”

“I wouldn’t care,” He insisted, shifting to lie down beside you, settling onto the pillow with a gentle sigh. You turned towards him, mirroring his position from before and resting your head on his chest, your fingers tracing random patterns along his chest.

“I know,” You murmured, your voice softer now. “But I would.” You hesitated, the words tasting heavier than you'd expected. “It’s just... it’s a long time.”

He propped himself up slightly, looking down at you, his brow furrowed with curiosity. “How long?” He pressed. “Since college?”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “Longer than that.”

He tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Mmm... since high school?” His voice held a teasing edge. “I wasn’t that cute back then.”

“You were really cute in high school,” you found yourself admitting, a smile tugging at your lips as your mind wandered back. You could still picture him, awkward in his oversized clothes and square glasses, but somehow, to you, he’d been the only boy who existed.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So... since high school.”

“Mmm…” You hesitated to answer. Hiding your face on his chest. You felt his fingers on your waist, squeezing the flesh so he could make you look at him. “A bit longer than that.”

Yoongi sighed, trying to think of a memory where he remembered you having a crush on him, but nothing came to mind. For someone you claimed to be the smartest person in the room, he seemed to be completely clueless. Perhaps because Yoongi always saw you as your brother's little sister, as this teenager that wanted nothing to do with her brother, as his friend. The idea of you having a crush on him since that long was crazy, but more crazy was the fact that he didn't notice at all. 

“God, don’t make that face,” you complained, rolling your eyes as you shifted uncomfortably.

“What face?” he asked, his voice distant, a slight frown tugging at his features as he seemed momentarily distracted.

“I told you, it’s embarrassing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it that bad to have a crush on me?”

You groaned, feeling your cheeks flush. “Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” He shook his head with a playful grin, inching closer, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “I still want to know.”

You huffed, debating whether to tell him the truth or not.

“What exactly do you want to know?” You asked, a mix of hesitation and willingness in your voice, ready to answer his question.

“Mmm... I don’t know, when did you know?” He asked, his tone casual, though his eyes held a deeper curiosity.

“I was a kid, Yoongi,” You replied, your voice softening, as if the memory itself were a weight.

“What about it? I’m curious.”

Maybe you were the only one in the room who found it embarrassing, because Yoongi wasn’t judging you—he was simply asking, genuinely interested. But the answer… it came from somewhere deep inside, a place you couldn’t quite reach, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn’t something that could be spoken so easily, yet here you were, on the verge of telling him.

You smiled, closing your eyes. “The thing is… that I don’t think is something that I can remember, Yoongi.” You confessed “It’s embarrassing because maybe I always felt that way. I was never the kind of kid who could be easily understood, but you did, and in those moments where you didn't, you sided with me anyway. And I don't know, I felt like you saw right through me and I liked that. I guess that messed with my head, because I knew that what I felt was somewhat irrational but I couldn't make it go away, I tried but I still can't. I have always been kind of a loser.”

Yoongi’s chest tightened, as though a quiet ache settled in, deep and raw. It was as if he could sense the weight behind your words—the hesitation, the vulnerability—but he knew they were nothing but the truth. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for him began, because, in a way, he had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface of your thoughts.

He reached out, his hand gently threading through your hair before sliding down your back, pulling you closer to him.

“You're not a loser, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice low and steady as his fingers found the back of your neck, keeping you anchored to him. “And you’re not difficult to understand. You’re not irrational, or crazy, or losing your mind.” A soft laugh escaped you as you listened to him list off your most frequent self-deprecating phrases.

“Isn’t it a bit embarrassing, though?” You whispered, the words barely escaping your lips

“What, having a crush?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle.

You nodded, but a part of you wanted to shake your head, to clarify that it wasn’t just about the crush. It was the way you had fallen in love with him—because, somehow, he was the only one who could ever truly understand you.

“For this long?” You whispered. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” He replied, his fingers gently tracing through your hair, the touch soothing.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you pressed a kiss to his chest, settling closer against him. You felt a wave of warmth washing all over your body. 

“You're too good to me.”

He let out a soft laugh, sitting up straighter on the bed. “Come here,” He murmured, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer with ease. “I want to kiss you until you give me a toothache.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of his touch as his hands cupped your face. “I’m too sour to give you a toothache.”

“No, you're sweet,” He insisted, his grip tightening around your waist. With a playful move, he slid one of your legs around his, drawing you onto his lap. “You're nauseatingly sweet. Now shut up, sit here.” You settled on his lap, still shaking your head in defiance, even as your body remained pressed against his. “I want you to ride me.”

You snorted, surprised. “I have to shower...” You murmured, trying to pull back, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders to create some distance.

“Ride me first,” he breathed, his voice low and insistent. “Then we’ll shower.”

He leaned in for a kiss, grabbing your waist to keep you pressed to his body. “We?” You asked against his lips, chuckling.

You didn’t forget the fact that you were still naked, he kept kissing you, aligning your hips so he could rub your slit with his cock, making you wince. “Don’t you want to shower with me?” He innocently asked, pressing down your body against him so there was no space between the two of you.

You bit his lip, making him let out a small moan against your mouth. “Maybe…” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Why would I want to?”

“‘Cause I’ll make you cum.” He said without any trace of hesitation in his voice.

You groaned, rolling your hips against his body. “Really?” You kept teasing. He nodded, leaning back against the headboard, his hands sliding to your ass to pull you closer. “How?”

He raised his hips to meet your entrance, teasing your clit with every movement. From a second to another, you were trapped in a trance again. “First, I’m fucking you with my fingers.” He slowly said, his voice deep as he left a kiss on your neck, his palms gripping your ass to press you closer to him. You nodded, enjoying the way he handled you as he pleased. “And when you’re close I’m gonna start eating out that lovely pussy of yours. But when you think you’re just about to cum I’ll stop.” You whimpered, your head already spinning at the thought. The only logical thought in your mind was that Yoongi should be thrown in jail for the way he spoke, and the way he was moving. “I will only fuck you with my cock when you’re begging me to fill you with my cum, would you like that?” You let out a shaky breath, nodding, not thinking much about what you were agreeing to. “Would you like me to cum inside you, baby?” 

You nodded pathetically, your eyes fluttering shut as he ease the ache between your legs every time he rolled his hips against your body. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, feeling completely ridiculous at the thought of cumming like this. Suddenly, he stopped his movements, making you open your eyes to look at him. 

Yoongi was looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his face, ready to tease you. “Or I can let you go, I don’t mind.” He murmured, leaving an innocent kiss on your lips. 

You punched his arm, annoyed at him. “Fuck you.”

It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because you haven’t left since you arrived. 

You knew you should probably leave, give your mother a New Year’s kiss in person rather than sending a quick text, change into fresh clothes, and get some proper sleep. But inside these four walls, it was as if time had not passed. You’d woken up this morning beside him, determined to be the kind of girl who slipped away early, left no trace and didn't linger. But instead of the cold chill of the morning, you felt the warmth of his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your waist, his breath soft against your neck. So, you let yourself stay just a few seconds longer, waiting for him to wake up first.

You stayed in bed until he offered one of his t-shirts to wear and kissed your nose, he only left the bed to make breakfast.

Now you were kneeling on the floor, lowering your head to search under Yoongi’s bed for your dress. You wondered what would be worse: showing up at home in Yoongi’s clothes or wearing last night’s dress.

“What are you looking for?” You heard his voice behind you. You sat up, turning your attention to him. He was still wrapped in his morning look—gray sweatpants, a black tee, and ruffled hair, probably thanks to you. Damn, he looked good.

“My dress.” You explained “Where did you throw it?” 

“Oh, I put it in my wardrobe,” He answered casually, extending his hand to help you up from the floor. You took it, trying to keep the shirt you were wearing from hiking up—though it was a losing battle. “Why?”

“I’d better get going,” You said shyly, nodding towards the door. 

“Why?” He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well, um…” You stammered, searching for an answer, but you didn’t have one.

“You can stay,” he interrupted, his tone firm.

“I don’t know… I have no clothes.” The words felt foolish as soon as they left your mouth.

He scoffed. “You have clothes.” He scanned your body from head to toe, but all you were wearing was an old shirt that still smelled like his perfume and a pair of boxers he’d kindly offered you after tossing your black panties in the wash. You didn’t actually have clothes. “You’re dressed right now.” He stepped closer, his hand reaching for your waist over the fabric of his shirt. You unconsciously stepped towards him, letting him cup your face with one of his hands.“I wish you weren’t, though.” 

“Yoongi…” You whined, hypnotized by the way he bit his bottom lip.

“What?” He murmured.

“My mom?…” You mumbled, making him laugh once again. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, his knee slowly pushing between your legs—was he trying to make you trip into his bed?

You gripped his shoulders tightly, determined to stay on your feet.

“I bet your mom’s just fine,” He said, his voice laced with mockery. “Unless you want to leave.”

His knee pressed deeper into your thigh, but you fought back, unwilling to let gravity win so easily.

You tried to come up with a clever, sassy response, something that would shut down his attempts to make you blush, but you were too focused on not falling into his bed. You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, lowering his voice and pulling your face closer with his grip.

You pursed your lips, finally losing the battle with gravity as you tumbled into the bed, pulling him down with you. Your eyes locked for a brief moment, the room so still you could hear the pounding of your own heartbeat and the soft sound of his hands running up your thighs, squeezing the skin beneath the fabric of his boxers.

“Or do you want to stay?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear, though the words seemed to echo in your mind.

You were too proud to say anything, he should’ve known you didn’t like to ask for things, but he was proud as well, he needed you to say it, and maybe this time you wanted to do it.

“I’ll stay...” You whispered, making him smirk. 

“Mmm… I won’t argue with that.” He murmured, pressing your nose against yours and kissing you with his mouth open, melting you under his body as his hands did the rest of the work.

And when you finished, tangled with each other, with his nose buried in your neck and his body on top of yours, he breathed out. You sighed, observing the watch on his wrist next to your head, it was only eleven in the morning. And that should be the perfect moment to run away before he kicked you out, but when you tried to move under his body, you found his gaze. 

“What?” He smiled, gripping your waist so you stayed there. 

“Nothing…” You said “Am not allowed to look at you now?” 

“No, you are.” He said “You’re just not allowed to look at me like you’re about to tell me you have to run away- I mean, that you have to leave.” 

You rolled your eyes. “C’mon, you’ll get tired of me.”

He braced himself on his arms, lowering his hands into the mattress as he hovered above you, just like he had five minutes ago before you came undone under him. The memory sent a flutter through your stomach, but now, he looked cute—confused by your words.

“You know, if you leave, I’m just going to follow you home, right?” He said, catching you off guard.

“Are you serious?” You scoffed. 

“I mean, what are you going to say? You have no clothes, you have to shower, you have to see your mom?” 

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “What if I want to see my mom?” You teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“Leave your mom alone, Pinky,” He shot back, grinning. You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “Stay with me today.”

You tilted your head, eyes searching his lips. “And what about tomorrow?”

“Stay with me tomorrow too,” He insisted, his voice soft but firm. “And the day after, as well.”

“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into...” You warned, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” He said, his gaze steady. “Trust me, I do.”

You wondered how long you could stay before you snapped out of the trance, how many kisses you could give, how many secrets you could share, how many times he could lift your shirt up your chest, kiss your stomach, kiss your neck. It was like the secrets of the world were held inside Yoongi’s bedroom, because after that you couldn’t escape his hands for the whole day.

Yoongi’s apartment suddenly became a universe of its own. He played music while you danced through the kitchen. He put on a movie as the snow fell outside, and you snuck onto his bed, napped wrapped in his arms, and woke up just in time for dinner.

For a moment, it felt like everything had fallen into place. Yoongi showed you pictures of the hotel he was planning to book for your getaway to the beach, mentioning that he’d considered booking two rooms but now didn’t think it was necessary. You received a call from Simon, but you simply wished him a happy New Year without telling him anything. You texted your mom, letting her know you were with Yoongi, and she didn’t ask any questions. You texted Minnie, but her response was quite different—she bombarded you with almost twenty texts, begging you to tell her everything. 

Yoongi was serious, he wouldn’t let you go that easily. After dinner he trapped you in bed and kissed you till you were out of breath, making you promise that you’ll stay the night again. 

“What if I have other plans?” You murmured as you brushed the hair away from his face.

“What other plans would you have?” He teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know, what if I have to see a boy?” You shot back, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Mmm, what boy?” He asked.

You bit your lip, sensing the opportunity waiting for you to seize it.

“I think you know him, actually,” You said, shifting slightly under him. You seemed to find yourself in that position more often than you realized. “His name’s Namjoon. Does that ring any bells?”

Yoongi blinked, clearly caught off guard, before letting out a soft chuckle. He grinned mischievously, then quickly reached for your sides, tickling you until you squirmed. “You’re asking for it now,” He teased, his breath warm against your neck as he leaned in to nip playfully at the skin there.

You burst out laughing, trying to wiggle away. “Stop! Stop, I’m serious!” you gasped between laughs, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you tried to push him off.

Present

By the time Friday came, you had already decided you were on vacation. After a few calls with Sally and another few calls with your publicist, you had cleared your schedule completely and you were free to do whatever you wanted for the next three months. You supposed you deserved it, or that was what you were trying to convince yourself about as you had breakfast and planned what you were going to do today —which was nothing. 

As the days passed, the news, reporters, and everyone else trying to reach you for a statement began to forget about you, it turned out to be that you weren’t the most important person in the world, and saying no to a marriage proposal wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve done. The world kept spinning and everyone moved on to the next scandal, but the ache in your chest didn’t go away that quick.

You tried contacting Ian countless times. At first, all you wanted was to confront him and to ask him to tell you the truth, but by the tenth attempt, you were ready to curse him and his entire family. The fact that he had blocked your number only confirmed what you suspected—he was the one who leaked the pictures. 

Making peace with it felt impossible; it was as though you’d been lying beside a stranger, an enemy, for nearly four years. You wondered if he felt the same about you right now—if that was why he did what he did. But you weren’t the most forgiving person to exist, nor was forgetting in your nature. So even if some part of you knew it might be healthier to let go, you clung to the bitterness, feeling it settle deep inside you, a grudge you were ready to carry for as long as it took. Letting go simply wasn’t an option.

Still, you didn’t let the whole scandal ruin your main plan—an early vacation in October. But it seemed your friend Minnie, sitting across from you with a glare that could kill, was more than ready to.

Minnie didn’t keep insisting you on helping her with The Alley, but you knew that she was counting on you. You promised to go with her today, but the fact that you didn’t say a word about it the whole week was beginning to make her think that you changed your mind. 

“I’m going with you today.” You said without taking your eyes off your phone. “You don’t need to look at me like that.” 

You heard her sigh in relief. “God, I was afraid you would say no.”

“I said I would the other day, didn’t I?” You reminded her, making her roll her eyes. 

“Yes, like you are a person who doesn’t change her mind at all.” 

You laughed, letting her comment slide. 

By the afternoon, you were standing at the door of The Alley, waiting behind Minnie as she tried each one of the fifty keys of the keyring in locks of the large wooden doors. “I never know which key is.” She murmured under her breath, annoyed. 

You weren’t of much help, all you could do was observe her as she cursed Sid for not labeling the keys, hiding in your scarf just in case she took it on you as well. Minnie peered through the keyhole, as if she could glimpse the shape of the lock and somehow figure out which key would fit. You took a look around at the park, which was completely desolated, except for the view of two people approaching down the street. 

It took you exactly two seconds to figure out who that was, after all, you had memorized every tiny bit of Yoongi’s personality, including the way he walked. There he was, this time dressed casually, with a black hoodie on and a black cap over his head, laughing and chatting with a blonde girl who you didn’t recognize at all.

You turned immediately, pretending you hadn’t just seen him and that girl heading in your direction. Your first instinct was to curse Minnie for not warning you that Yoongi would be here, but, in fairness, she had mentioned he’d be around—and you had assured her it didn’t bother you. Still, you hadn’t expected him to appear the moment you arrived. For the sake of keeping your word, you played dumb, pretending not to have seen him.

“This is pissing me off.��� Said your friend, straightening up and wiping the sweat off her forehead. She looked around, catching the glimpse of Yoongi almost as quickly as you did. “Oh, don’t turn around.” She warned you as she waved at him, faking a smile. “You don’t want to know who’s coming.”

“I already know.” You gritted through your teeth.

“How did you know?” she whispered, raising an eyebrow. “Did you feel him coming? How? Do you have some kind of spidey sense I don’t know about? Like… an ex-boyfriend radar or something?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. No. I saw him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, but you just shrugged, already hearing steps behind you, slowing down as they approached you.

“Hey, guys,” Minnie said with a polite smile, holding up the jangling keyring. “Am I late? I’ve been wrestling with these keys.”

Yoongi’s eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of unease flashing across his face before he shifted his gaze to the blonde girl beside him. Her expression froze for just a moment, her gaze landing on you with a slight look of recognition, but you barely acknowledged it, focusing instead on the uncomfortable pause that followed.  “Uh… no, you’re fine,” He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we’re just a bit early.”

You murmured a quiet “hi,” watching as Yoongi stepped towards Minnie. “Let me see,” he said in that low voice of his, reaching for the keyring. Minnie handed it over eagerly, clearly too flustered to remember introductions, but you didn’t mind. You had no interest in learning who Yoongi had shown up with—not in the slightest. “I already told you which one it is.”

In what universe Yoongi knew which key opened the doors of The Alley? Apparently, in this one. In a matter of seconds he had found the key and opened without any problem, leaving Minnie thanking him. 

“I need to label it before I lose it again.” She said.

The blonde watched them both, her gaze flickering to you for just a moment before returning to Yoongi. She shifted her weight, as if she was waiting for something else to happen while Yoongi and Minnie exchanged words, but you kept quiet. You were quite used to people recognizing you on the street, especially in your hometown where every single person knew your name, that didn’t mean that you enjoyed it. 

“Look, it has different slots from the other ones.” He showed her, and Minnie looked carefully as he pointed the key. 

“Fine, I’ll try to remember.” She nodded, grabbing the keyring from his hands. “Now enter, time to work.”

Minnie clapped her hands as she stepped inside, disappearing ahead and leaving you, Yoongi, and the blonde girl—someone you'd never seen before—standing there, exchanging glances as if there were something unspoken between you all. The blonde shifted her gaze to you briefly, her expression unreadable yet somehow expectant. You felt a knot tightening in your chest and quickly slipped past them without acknowledging it, catching up to Minnie and putting the awkwardness of the moment behind you.

“You can play some music if you want.” Said Minnie, disappearing through a hall that led to the office.

You hurried towards her, leaving Yoongi and his friend behind without a backward glance.

“Why does Yoongi know how to open the doors, and you don’t?” You whispered, quickening your steps to keep up with Minnie.

“I told you, he’s here all the time,” She replied, barely slowing down as she moved ahead. “He has to fix some lights from the theater today.” 

“And... who was that?” You asked, slipping into the office and closing the door behind you a little faster than necessary.

Minnie dropped her bag on the desk with a roll of her eyes. “I don’t know—some girl he’s seeing now,” She replied, shrugging. “She’s just here to keep him company. I doubt she cares much about The Alley, but hey, not my business.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling the faintest stir of something you couldn’t quite name. You pushed it aside—no need to dwell on it.

“How do you know?” You asked, trying to sound casual. “Is he your personal friend now?”

She chuckled, sitting back in her chair. “We’re friendly,” the redhead replied, her tone light as if that wasn’t the biggest betrayal of all.

You let yourself fall into the chair across from her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” She said with a shrug. “I don’t really have a choice.” Then, her gaze met yours. “We don’t talk about you, though. He doesn’t dare say your name.”

“He doesn’t mention me but he talks about the girls he’s seeing?” You asked, crossing your arms above your chest. 

“Yes, it’s like he’s seen a ghost everytime someone says your name, it’s funny.” She said “And why are you asking, anyway? Are you jealous?” She teased. 

You couldn’t deny that the fact that Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear your name gave you a little bit of satisfaction, but knowing that he also shared the details of his most recent date with who was supposed to be your best friend pissed you off. 

“You’re a traitor, Minnie,” You muttered, shaking your head in disbelief.

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. “Didn’t you say you had no problem with him being around?” She shot back, using your own words against you. “He’s helping out with everything. I can’t exactly avoid being friendly.”

You huffed, already knowing she was right, but it didn’t stop the sting of betrayal. “Still…” you grumbled, unable to hide the bitterness in your tone. “You’re supposed to be on my side, one hundred percent.”

“I have to choose my battles, honey.” She sighed, paying little attention to your tantrum. “For the sake of this place, at least.” 

You exhaled sharply, leaning back in your chair, arms still crossed. “Guess I can’t argue with that,” You muttered, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice, but it still seeped through.

Minnie slipped through some papers on the desk, glancing up to you. “Besides… I can be on your side, which I am, and still be friendly to him. I’m not trying to brainwash you, but he’s a great guy, you know? Overall…”

“I know that.” You said, defeated, “I know that more than anyone.”

Your friend didn’t need to convince you; you knew better than anyone how impossible it was to dislike Yoongi. You knew that he was a great man, a great son, a great neighbor. That he loved his mother, was the best friend of everyone and girls loved him. And yet, it was for all those reasons that you resented him. If only he were just a little less of all those things, a little more selfish, maybe—just maybe—he might have chosen you.

Four years ago

You have never been the kind of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, but the next morning, tangled in sheets under Yoongi’s body, you were. 

That afternoon you inevitably had to say goodbye to him, but not without him putting on a good fight first. His mom was coming back from vacation that night and you refused to be there when she arrived just to find you wearing her son’s clothes as pajamas for the second day in a row, even if Yoongi argued that there was nothing wrong with it since she’d known you all your life. At the end he ended up agreeing with you, deciding that maybe you were right and driving you home.

You walked backwards towards the porch, blowing kisses to Yoongi, who sat in his car, trying to catch each one of them. He waited until you opened the door and winked at you, waving a goodbye before starting the car and disappearing. Closing the door behind you, you felt your heart beating against your ribcage, threatening to escape from your body. You leaned against the door for a moment, feeling the weight of the silence that filled the space around you. Your breath was shallow, your chest tight, as if the air itself was heavier now that he was gone. 

You had always been in love with Yoongi; it was a weight you had carried for most of your life. You had grown tired of trying to get rid of it, learning to live with it as if it were a curse. But this time, it felt different, it was like love was supposed to feel like. 

You wanted things to sink in and be as far from him as you possibly could, but as soon as you heard the car driving away, a sudden urge to run and look for him took over you. 

Still, you lay in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like you were sixteen again, wondering if it was okay to text him first. What should you say? That you had a great time? That you wanted to see him again? You wished he could have just appeared at your doorstep without you having to ask. You wished to hear the sound of a rock against your window, only to find out it was him, calling for you.

Later that night, you did receive a text from Yoongi, though not in the way you had imagined.

Almost all of Yoongi’s memories were of just him and his mom together. The concept of family had always been different for him than it was for everyone else, but he had learned to embrace it. Even so, he often wished things could have been different—that his mother didn’t have to work two jobs, that he didn’t have to spend so much time in other people’s homes, that the concept of a family of two didn’t come with so many complications. 

Yoongi had spent most of his childhood with nannies and Simon’s mom, observing how Lila took her of her children and hoping that image could be his instead. 

He grew up trying not to cause much trouble, working to help his mom, studying hard, and striving to earn a full scholarship. Between long hours at part-time jobs and nights spent pouring over textbooks, he found himself attending to her when her health took a turn—making meals, running errands, or simply sitting by her side to ensure she was comfortable. The weight of responsibility shaped him early, leaving little room for his own dreams, doing everything he could to lighten her burden while quietly dreaming of a future where neither of them had to struggle.

His mother had become a priority and he never complained, he loved her, but in the meantime he was slowly forgetting about himself without noticing. 

That night, Yoongi had created a group chat to inform all his family that his mother had suffered an accident on her way home from vacation. She had fallen, breaking her hip in the process, and now required surgery as soon as possible. The tone of his message was calm, almost detached, as if he were trying to keep the weight of the situation from overwhelming anyone. Still, you could feel the urgency behind his words, the unspoken worry pressing between the lines. 

His message said that she was going into surgery in a few hours and that his aunt was with him, but didn’t answer any other message for the rest of the night until the next morning, when he announced that the surgery had gone okay and that Nari was fine, though she didn’t wake up yet.  

You felt a whole carving in your chest just by thinking of him, handling the situation alone. You knew that Yoongi always tried to convince everyone he was fine on his own, that he didn’t need anyone’s help, but you couldn’t shake the image of him sitting in a hospital chair, exhausted and worn, holding it together for everyone else while no one held it together for him. 

Even if you wanted to visit Nari, to be there for both of them, Yoongi explicitly said that people could only visit her once she was at home, three days later.

That very same morning you began your ten block walk to Yoongi’s home, starting to feel your feet getting frozen inside of your monochrome black Converse, your fingers numbing inside your half finger gloves and a strange feeling in your gut that was slowly creeping up on you.

You tried to tell yourself that it was the bad taste that left you the news of the accident, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of worry, hence the anxious feeling in your stomach. Even if Yoongi had said that everything went alright, you still were worried.

You turned around and looked at the end of the street where your home was, wondering if you should go back and take your car, but you ultimately buried your hands in the pockets of your jacket and decided to carry on your way; ten blocks in the snow never killed anyone. 

When you started to approach the old building, flashbacks immediately assaulted your memory in the least subtle of ways, it was like every kiss lingered in your skin, you couldn’t wash them off.

You rang the bell, announced yourself and in less than five minutes you were in front of Yoongi’s door like you were a few days ago. 

“Pinky, I-... I didn’t know you were coming.” Was the first thing he said. 

Yoongi’s face was a map of exhaustion, his eyelids hung heavy and the skin beneath his eyes shadowed by the weight of sleepless nights. 

“Hi to you too,” you mumbled.

“Sorry... Hi. You surprised me,” Yoongi replied, his voice thick with exhaustion.

“It’s okay,” you said quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. “I wanted to see Nari. I tried to text you, but-”

“I haven’t been paying attention to my phone,” He interrupted, his gaze dropping for a brief moment, a tired sigh escaping him.

You frowned slightly, unsure if it was the weariness or something else. “Yeah, I’m sure. But I was hoping she’d be here already.”

“We arrived a few hours ago,” He explained, his voice low, as if the weight of the past few hours still clung to him.

Silence stretched between you, the kind that felt heavy, as if neither of you knew quite how to fill it.

“How are you?” You said, taking a step closer to him.

“I’m okay now that she’s home,” Yoongi admitted, his voice low and strained. “But… I was so stressed I thought I was going to pass out.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a pang of helplessness surging through you. You fought the urge to pull him into an embrace, knowing it wouldn’t erase the exhaustion carved into him.

“What exactly happened?” You pressed gently, your tone careful.

Yoongi exhaled, leaning briefly against the doorframe, his gaze distant. “She slipped and landed in the worst possible way. Her hip… it didn’t just crack. It broke clean through, but not in the middle, more on the edge, closer to where it connects to the rest of her leg. They said the pieces weren’t in the right place anymore, and they had to go in and put it back together” He paused, swallowing hard, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. “I wasn’t even with her. It was my aunt who called me, and by the time I got to the hospital, they were already preparing her for surgery.”

“How is she?” You asked softly, glancing at him.

“She’s... recovering,” Yoongi said, running a hand through his hair. “The doctors said the bone broke just outside the joint. They had to put this metal nail inside her thigh bone and screw it into place to hold everything steady so it can heal.”

“A nail?” You repeated, eyes widening.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “It’s supposed to keep the bone stable. They said it’s the best way to fix this kind of break. She’s in a lot of pain, though.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for her... or for you.” You took a step closer, watching the weariness in his expression.

Yoongi let out a shaky breath. “She’s tough, though. Tougher than me, that’s for sure.”

You kept silent for a second. “Can I see her?” You almost whispered, unsure, but he quickly moved away from the door.

“Yeah, of course.” He said, suddenly remembering you were still outside of his home. “Come in, she’ll be happy to see you. I’ll let her know first.”

You stood in the living room as you watched him disappear through the hall where both of their rooms were, trying to avoid any kind of memory you had from a few nights ago. Why did you have to think of that in moments like these?

After a few seconds, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s face from the hall, telling you to follow him. You followed his voice, entering Nari’s room without making much noise. 

She was laying in bed with a blanket draped over her legs. She looked up as you entered, her eyes lighting up with a welcoming smile that made her seem so much like Yoongi, and yet, not entirely. She was clearly in pain, but her cheerfulness masked it, her eyes twinkling with the same kindness you remembered. 

“Oh sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Nari said warmly, her voice a little strained but genuine. “I didn’t expect you to drop by.”

“How come? I wanted to come check on you.” You smiled, taking a cautious step closer “Simon and my mom, too. They all want to see you.”

“Oh, they don’t have to!” She waved off “I’ll be on my feet in no time, this was nothing.” Her eyes lingered on you for a moment before shifting to Yoongi, who was quietly standing behind you. 

You glanced over at him, catching the flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he quickly masked it. You wanted to ask him what was going on, but you didn’t dare in front of his mother. Instead, you focused on her, trying to offer a comforting smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Nari,” You said, your voice soft but sincere. “It must’ve been scary.”

“Oh, I’ve had worse.” She shifted her weight slightly, and you could see a flash of discomfort cross her face, but she quickly masked it with another smile. “It’s just a little fracture. Nothing to worry about, really.”

Yoongi shifted, his hands gripping the keys in his pocket, eyes flicking towards his mom before looking back at you. “The doctors said she needs to use a wheelchair for a while.” He interrupted, as if he was trying to remind his mom rather than telling you about it. 

Nari gave him a sharp look, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a softer, more forced smile. “I’m okay. Really, I’m tougher than I look.” She looked up at you.

You nodded, but something in the way she looked at Yoongi made you pause. There was an underlying tension there, something unspoken. You weren’t sure if it was because of the accident or something else, but it felt like you had stepped into a moment that wasn’t meant for you.

“I’ll be fine,” Nari repeated, as if to reassure both you and Yoongi. “I’m just happy to see you two together. It’s been so long since you visited.”

You smiled, trying to match her enthusiasm. “We should all get together sometime soon, once you’re feeling better.”

You could tell she was trying to downplay everything, to act like it was just another ordinary day. But the quiet discomfort in the room, the way Yoongi stood slightly apart from her, told a different story.

You watched Yoongi shift again, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he cleared his throat. “We should let you rest, Mom.”

Nari smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “Yes, yes. I’ll be fine. You two go on.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in the room like a heavy cloud, but not wanting to draw it out any longer. As you followed Yoongi out, you could still feel in your stomach the feeling you had when you left your house earlier.

Yoongi held the door open for you as you stepped out of the living room, your footsteps soft against the wooden floor. Neither of you said anything as you walked to the elevator at the end of the hall, the silence stretching between you like an invisible thread. Yoongi pressed the call button, and the sound of Yoongi opening the door of the elevator was the only sound that broke the stillness.

Inside, the faint hum of the elevator motor filled the space as you both stood side by side. You stole a glance at him, noticing the way his hands fidgeted slightly in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers on the wall.

“You okay?” You asked, looking at his soft face. He glanced up, his eyes sidetracking towards your lips before looking away. 

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He simply said. 

Yoongi stepped out first, waiting for you to follow before leading the way through the lobby and towards the glass doors at the exit. The cold morning air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, sharp and bracing after the warmth of the building. Yoongi stuffed his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, his breath visible in the frosty air as he exhaled. You tightened your own coat around you, walking alongside him as the wind tugged at your hair.

“Did something happen between the two of you?” You wondered out loud, watching him closing the door behind him, clutching the keys in his hand as he leaned against the stair railing beside you. 

“Nothing, she just…keeps picking fights with me. She’s been unbearable since the surgery.” He sighed, frustration heavy in his voice. “She tries to tell everyone it’s nothing but it’s not like that. She didn’t like it when the doctor told her she had to use a wheelchair, she refused.” 

You looked up at him. Yoongi had always been taller than you, making you tilt your chin just slightly to meet his gaze. “She needs time to process it. You know how she is—she’s never liked being helped. Just give her space, and she’ll come around. Don’t be too hard on her, okay?”

He let out a sharp breath. “It’s her who’s being hard on me,” He muttered. He shook his head, the frustration evident in his eyes. “Did you see the way she looked at me? The only reason she was being nice was because you were there.”

“I know it’s tough,” You said softly, “but she’s not used to this. Just a few days ago, everything was normal, and now she’s facing this huge change—she has to use a wheelchair for who knows how long. The meds might be messing with her mood too.”

“The meds are driving her crazy,” He affirmed.

“Well, see? It’s not your fault.” You said, reaching your hand to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re doing everything you can, she will come around.” 

Yoongi closed his eyes when he felt your fingertips close to his face, there was something about your touch that burned him through his skin, pulling him into a trance. 

A silence settled between the two of you, you shared a glance with him, your eyes meeting each other like a secret. It was like you could see everything that happened in his room a few nights ago just by looking him in the eye, like every kiss and every word were still palpable in the air. 

On the surface, Yoongi knew he should be worried about other things, that his mother was the most important thing right now, but in the back of his mind there was you, laying on his bed as you begged him for one more kiss, one more touch. Oh, how he wished he could turn back time to be trapped inside his room with you alone again, like you were the only people in the world. 

“Pinky, I-”

“Yoongi-” 

The words crashed into each other, a quiet storm of unspoken things hanging in the air between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid that night pressing down on the space between your breaths.

“We…” He tried to say, but he cut himself.  “I’m sorry for not calling.”

You shook your head, waving it off “It’s okay, I understand. I just wanted to check on both of you.”

“I wanted to call you,” He said, his voice quieter than usual. “And I wanted to see you… but I couldn’t.”

“It’s alright, Yoongi…” You murmured, but his gaze was fixed on the floor, his eyes avoiding yours like they were afraid of something.

“Pinky, about the trip to the beach-”

You cut him off gently, your voice firm despite the softness. “I’m not thinking about the trip to the beach.” You paused, feeling the weight of your words. “I was worried about your mom, I was worried about you.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, his voice tight as he looked away. 

“Yoongi, the trip can wait.” You insisted, but something told you that this wasn’t about the trip 

He inhaled sharply, his breath shaky, as if the words were caught somewhere between his chest and his throat. His gaze darted to the side, then back to you.

“That’s the thing, Pinky, I don’t think it can.” His voice cracked slightly, a crack in the armor he'd been holding up. Suddenly, you felt your chest tighten, the words weighing heavily in the air. “I just… I don’t know how to deal with all of this. I’ve been doing some thinking in the hospital, and I-” He paused, his breath hitching like he was trying to swallow something painful. “I don’t know how to say this, but maybe… we should leave this right here.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, the sudden shift in his words making it feel like the ground had disappeared beneath you. “I- What do you mean?” you managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Pinky,” He murmured, his voice barely audible now, thick with regret. His eyes flicked away, unable to meet yours. “For everything. I wanted to call you and explain… but I couldn’t. I was afraid you thought I used you and-”

“I never thought that.” You rushed to say, confused. “Why would I?”

Yoongi looked at you, at a loss for words, but he couldn’t stand holding your gaze for more than one second, even if you desperately tried to meet his eyes, as if that could make him make some sense. 

“I don’t know, I-” He struggled to say. “I just wanted you to know that I said the truth the other night, you know that? I wasn’t lying but-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, your heart racing as a wave of nausea hit you.

He exhaled sharply, eyes dropping to the floor, still refusing to meet your eyes.. “Pinky… whatever happened these past few weeks… it shouldn’t have happened.” His voice was low, almost regretful. You felt a cold chill creep into your bones. The air between you had shifted, heavy and suffocating.

“Yoongi, why are you saying this?” 

You took a step closer to him, but you felt his breath hitching, attempting to run away from you. 

“Because I can’t leave to follow you, I can’t run away with you.” He firmly said, breaking your heart into a million pieces. “For the sake of everyone.”

You frowned, your chest tightening. “For the sake of everyone, or for your sake only?” You murmured, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to shield yourself from the cold that wasn’t just coming from the air. It was coming from him, too.

He threw his head back in frustration, closing his eyes, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders. He wasn’t willing to turn this into a fight, but he clearly underestimated you if he thought you would just stay silent.

“Pinky, don’t make things more difficult.” He begged, but that only made it worse. 

You couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped you. “Yeah, but I can’t, can I? That’s always been my job, right?” You said, your voice trembling just enough to betray your anger. “I always have to make things difficult.”

He shook his head, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “C’mon, I didn’t say that. You’re making things up.”

You tried to maintain your composure, but the effort was slipping away. The knot in your throat grew tight, and it felt like your chest was about to crack open. Maybe it was in your nature to make this more difficult, to create a fight, to be resentful, but you couldn’t just stand there, pretending this wasn’t nonsense, that what he said wasn’t completely different from what he said nights ago. You couldn’t pretend this wasn’t hurting. 

“Then, what is it?” You asked “It’s not me? It’s you?” 

The silence that followed was overwhelming, the weight of his words settling in the space between you like a wall.

“It’s us.” He pronounced, his words hitting the air like thunder, reverberating down the empty street, carving themselves deep into your chest.  “We are different, we- I can’t.”

For a moment it felt as though the world had narrowed down to just his voice. You swallowed hard, the burn of tears creeping into the corners of your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “Wasn’t it always like that?” You managed to choke out, your voice trembling, raw with hurt. “Because this isn’t what you told me the other night. What was it? That you wanted me? That you couldn’t stop dreaming of me? That I was the solution to all your problems?” The words slipped out before you could stop them. “Am I just supposed to walk away and accept it was all bullshit?”

You felt your cheeks burning red and your hands trembling as you closed them into fists. Your heart pounded so loudly in your ears you could barely hear your own words anymore.  Handling your emotions the correct way wasn’t one of your qualities, because you hadn’t even realized you were raising your voice until Yoongi took a step forward, the heat of his presence forcing your breath to catch in your throat. You faltered, trying to steady yourself, but it was impossible.

“I told you I wasn’t lying to you.” He reminded you, his voice filled with emotions. “It wasn’t bullshit, I meant what I said, you are a dream of a girl, Pinky. But you… you drive me crazy.” He sighed, as if the words were tearing him apart. “Even when everything that was happening with my mom, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you, do you know how fucked up that sounds? I can’t let you do that to me.”

“What?” You spat. “Would that be so bad?”

Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shutting briefly, as if to block out the entire world. “Please, you know this.” His voice was strained now, almost pleading. “We can’t ignore it forever, I have to stop it now. You could never stay in one place, and even if I wanted to run away with you, I can’t. I have to stay here.”

“I was not going to run away. Not with you here.”

“And next year?” he asked, his tone sharp with frustration. “What happens next year? Or in five years? When you realize this isn’t what you wanted and you pack your bags again?—because I know you, do you think I don’t? You can’t stay, you never do. And I can’t leave.”

It was as if every cruel word the world had ever aimed at you, every harsh truth or bitter lie, was now coming from the lips of the one person who had always been on your side. You could understand that Yoongi was sad, tired and angry, but this was crossing the line. 

You tried to fight the tears, but they fell anyway, unable to defend yourself. What could you say? That it wasn’t true? Betraying your dignity and trying to convince him that staying with you was worth the shot? That it wasn’t as crazy as he made it sound? No. You had spent your life waiting for people to like you, but today you were stopping it. You stood there, not willing to wipe your tears and pointed to his chest, angry.

“God, you’re a fucking coward.” Your breath trembled, uneven, trying to hold it together.

“Pinky, please,” He breathed out, his voice low and desperate as he reached for your face.

“Don’t call me that.” You took a step back, shaking your head, your chest tightening. “I know you, too, you know? And I know this isn’t about me this time, this time it’s about you being afraid like you’ve always been.”

“Stop, please,” he begged again, his voice cracking under the weight of his plea. But you couldn’t stop; anger burned through you, mixing with the ache in your chest, with the tears threatening to spill. You were angry, you were upset, you were fucking sad.

“Why?” you snapped, your voice sharp and trembling. “Is this not what you expected me to say? Or did you want me to admit that you’re right, like you always are—that I’m unpredictable, and a mess, and that I just don’t fit into your life like a normal girl would?”

“Y/n, I didn’t say any of that.” He replied softly, his eyes wide and pained, his shoulders sinking under the weight of your words.

The sound of your name ringed in your ears, but you ignored it. He didn’t say that but that was exactly what he meant, he couldn’t deny that.  

“You know, I don’t even care about the road trip,” You said, your voice trembling with restrained frustration as you stepped down one step, still facing him. “There would have been plenty of chances for that, fine. Whatever.” You paused, gripping the railing, your breath unsteady. “And your mom? Of course she needs your help now, I wasn’t gonna complain, how could I? And next year? Sure, she’ll probably still need you. But in five years?” You looked straight at him, your eyes sharp, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “In five years, your mom’s going to hate that the only thing you ever did with your life was take care of her.”

Your voice cracked then, but you didn’t stop. “And me? Even if I’d love to do it, I won’t be here to tell you I told you so.”

Yoongi’s face was a mix of disbelief and hurt, the corners of his mouth tightening as if trying to hold back a response that wasn’t coming. You turned around, not sparing him another glance as you almost ran towards your home, ignoring your name being called over and over again from the voice of the man who just broke your heart. 

Yoongi was painfully always there in your life. He was always the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have. When you turned the corner at the end of the street, determined not to look back, you decided that maybe now was time for you to accept it and finally move on. 

taglist: taglist: @kingofbodyrolls, @overtherainbow35, @namin13, @p34rluv, @moonchild1, @yoongisoftface , @namgihours @idkjustlovingbts , @yoongisducky , @bangtansmauyeondan , @tarahardcore @wobblewobble822 @secfir @ot72025 @baechugff @heroinanne @mortal-body-timelesssoul @hiii-priestess @wii-wii @jungkookies1002 @busanbby-jjk @acquiescence804 @yoongibaybee @hsbongwater @ot7stansthings @curiouslioncutie @jalexad

[milf-harrington]

literally why does my sister let me be alone with this kid, this is the 2nd time in two weeks he's ended up injured 😭😭

[yea-baiyi]

YALL. everyone go watch story of kunning palace i swear it’s worth it im still riding an insane high after i finished it last night.

it’s a very good solid drama for 30 episodes kinda slow burn but well written with good characters and decent plots.

and then in the last 8 episodes, the guy’s sidekick tells him “maybe you should show her how you really feel. show her the real you” and he proceeds to go batshit feral insane. which after watching her pine after and then reject the most morally upright guy ever it fucking WORKS ON HER because she is ALSO insane!!

after that it’s just 8 episodes of him being sloppy desperate for her and begging her to give him an answer while she’s just there buffering because she has to readjust her whole worldview with this news that he’s liked her all along?? she went out to meet her former crush and when she got home he sat her down and made her eat a dinner he made. that was drowning in vinegar. because if he had to drink vinegar then SO SHOULD SHE. and after she doesn’t eat much at dinner he plops down a tray of her favourite cake. that he had given her before earlier in the drama. announces that he made it with his own hands. and she’s like :0 “you made it for me even back then?? but back then we were only….” and he’s immediately like “only? only what? what were we back then? what about now? is it different now? what are we?” and she’s just like .

[justabunchofdragons]

ough why did my iv drip hurt so much 😭 i had preseptal cellulitis as a kid and they gave me iv antibiotics so it'd be a quicker recovery and the cannula was in my hand and apparently its not supposed to hurt but every 4? 6? hours when they switched the drip on i just remember it hurting so much i cried. makes me squeamish even now

[medicinemane]

Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood

Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something

"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"

Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay

Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do

Murderer

[torchickentacos]

There's not many things that unsettle me about myself, but the fact that I have a mysterious six inch long scar on my foot and no clue of why it's there is definitely one of those things.

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[hauntingblue]

Skypiea time part 2

She is a woman..... this is sanji's influence... in whiskey peak his slashes were non gendered

Ace just letting himself get pushed into the river like aight my bad I will take my punishment.... he really is so well mannered (it sounds like I'm talking about a dog)

Conis showing that nami influence.... gfs....

Nami and luffy twins moment look how relieved she is... this whole fight is so theirs...

Also how funny it is that the milk girl gave ace a shirt.... also new pants??? She must think he lost the shirt in the river.... no girl he is just a slut...

Nami: okay ❤️ yay ❤️

Noland just thinking about where karugara is and if he is alright in his EXECUTION!! SICK AND TWISTED

OMG BOUNDMAN INSPO????

NO ACEEE NOOOOOOOO

THE END OF ACES STORY IS THAT THE COFFE IS NO LONGER BITTER BC THEY SERVE IT WITH MILK AND WHY AM I EMOTIONAL ABOUT IT

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

5 DAYS IN HEAVEN

Summary: Since Wade is going away on a mission, he asks you to take care of his roommate. At first you will refuse, but in the end you will be so freaking grateful.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, age gap, strong language, masturbation, breast play, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), little blood, reader is smaller than Logan

A/n: This is so freaking long I'm so terribly sorry I got really into it, so I am sorry if there will be some grammar mistakes or some parts that won't make sense, I'm not a native English speaker, anyways enjoy <3

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Fuck no Wade!" you shut your eyes as you frustrated shouted. "Please I need this!" he kept trying to convince you, reaching for your hands but you flinched. "I'm not going to make you a fucking housewife, have you lost your mind?" you asked, beginning to doubt about men's IQ at this point. “Not for me but for Logan” he corrected you as if that made a difference. “It's literally the same” you turned your back as you walked into the kitchen, Wade following you like a dog on a leash. "Please, I'll do anything!"

You stopped for a second. You've never heard Wade so desperate and you've known him for five years and as a neighbor, you know his behavior very well, this is not like him at all.

"Why do you care about him so much?" you asked, leaning against the fridge with your hands tied across your chest. "He's my bestfriend! I love him-" "Okay now it's getting weird" you turned around again as you poured some water into a clean glass.

"Please I can't lose him because he starved, I need my fuckbuddy-" you almost choked as you heard Wade's words while drinking. Never drink while Wade is talking, noted. "And why can't you just take him with you?" you turn around and furrow your eyebrows. "It's not that easy pumpkin" you rolled your eyes but didn't give up to find some other way.

"So he would order fast food, what's the matter?" "Do I look like I have enough money to feed a giant who eats like a beast?" you sigh in annoyance as you slowly realize that there probably isn't other way to solve this. "Wade, I can't cook for him-" "Why not? You're the best cook I know! Please, just for five days, no more!"

When you saw his beggar eyes, you had no choice. You sigh loudly and close your eyes as your head drops. "Fine." You growl and immediately regretted your decision as Wade grabbed you and spun you around at breakneck speed. "Jesus alright stop I'm gonna throw up!" Wade placed you back on the floor and you struggled to keep your balance. But when your vision was no longer blurry, Wade’s excited face warmed your heart. "Thank you so much! I owe you I swear!"

He gave you one last kiss on the cheek before he left your apartment. You could hear him excitedly screaming in the hallway, even on his way to his apartment. You chuckle and shake your head, he is really a child stuck in a 30 year old body.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You don't really know Logan. You know that he moved in with Wade and they started living together, but you never found out why. Besides, you didn't even have much interaction with him, mainly because of his expression.

He still looks angry and sour, whenever you see him in the hall, you try to avoid him, because his stern expression sent you dread and goosebumps all over your body. Unlike Wade, he didn't look like a friendly neighbor who comes to visit you when he needs sugar or flour.

Rather, he looked exactly like the neighbor who just complains about you every chance he gets. You were a little afraid of the deal, going to cook for him and who knows what will happen if he doesn't like it. What if he spits on you? Or do anything worse?

You were only comforted by the thought that you would only go to him a few times a day and then you could lock yourself away and be safe. Your thoughts about Logan and the whole deal were interrupted by an aggressive pounding on your door. You immediately knew who it was.

You sighed when you saw Wade in the doorway, rudely barging into your apartment without asking. But you're used to it.

"So when are you moving in?" your eyes almost fell out of their sockets when Wade threw this question at you without hesitation. "What are you talking about?!" you tried not to think the worst, unfortunately it was the worst. "Well, you'll be living in my apartment during my absence-" you pointed index finger at him and shook him. "No no no, you didn't say that!" Wade stopped. "I thought it was obvious..."

Your heart was beating a hundred and six and your blood was at boiling point. "Wade! I'm not living with that psychopath!" you lost your shit and started screaming at him. Wade was still calm. “He's not that bad” you were shocked at his words and how easily he was letting them out of his mouth.

"Wade! What if he kills me?" Wade rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He won't kill you, don't worry, if something happens stab him...even though it probably wouldn't help" you started being red from how angry you were. "Why can't I stay here?" you finally asked him the main question.

"You know, I'm afraid something will happen to him, I want you to watch over him" you just started to mock Wade’s patheticness. Oh you are so done. "No….no! I am not gonna do it" "Ah come on sweetheart" Wade grabbed your hands so tightly that you couldn't even break free from his grip.

"I swear I'll give you anything for this, I'll be grateful to you for the rest of my life...just 5 days, please" even as you fought with every nerve and muscle in your body to refuse, his convincing eyes got you again and you let out an annoyed breath.

Wade immediately understood that you agreed and pulled you into a tight hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou" he kept thanking you and you started seeing stars for a moment from his tight grip. Again and again you regretted your decision and wanted to get a fake passport, change your identity and fly far away. Unfortunately, this option will not work.

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First day

The time had come for you to introduce yourself to Logan and move in. You only had a small bag over your shoulders, where were your clothes, hygiene items and necessary things. Even if you miss something, you can always go to the apartment next door, aka your home.

“Look, I'm just warning you, Logan can be a little…rude sometimes” Wade told you and you nodded. You already deduced that yourself from his face expressions. Even so, you wanted to be nice and make an impression on him, maybe he'll be a little softer if he sees you smiling.

“Alright, here we go” Wade looked even more nervous than you. When he grabbed the doorknob and went inside, Logan was nowhere to be found. You slowly followed Wade, looking for the grumpy big guy. But suddenly the door to the room opened and the famous, rude Logan came out.

He was wearing a brown shirt and jeans with a belt, now that you had a chance to get a good look at him, he didn't look so bad. "Logan!" Wade squealed excitedly while Logan still had a stern look on his face.

When his eyes landed on you, he didn't move a single muscle, unlike you. You were sweating, your smile was twitching but you tried to keep your cool. "Who is that?" he pointed at you and slowly walked closer. "So glad you're asking, Logan, this is your temporary housewife"

You were quiet but still smiling, while holding your hand for a shake. Logan rolled his eyes and moved his head from your sight in annoyance. That's a nice welcoming. "I don't fucking need her" you would be lying if those words didn't touch you a little, but Wade warned you, so you were at least half prepared for it.

You slowly dropped your hand back to your body and looked at Wade in confusion. "Well if he doesn't need me, I can go-" "No! Stay!" he grabbed your shoulder and looked angrily at Logan. "We already talk about this, be nice" he hissed through his clenched teeth and Logan just sighed. He looked back at you, that annoyed look still on his face. He was literally screaming through that face that he wants to kick you out and he really doesn't want you here. Your smile slowly dropped and you started overthinking, how the following 5 days would look like, with this grumpy rude man.

"Good kitty" Wade complimented Logan who growled back at him. "Well, the kitchen is over there, I'll show you your room and then I'll have to go, the mission awaits!" Wade got behind you and pushed you forward past Logan, who was staring at you but still with an annoyed and slightly confused expression.

"Well, put your things here and I have to go. Bye bye and thank you, I owe you” Wade quickly led you into the guest room, patting you on the shoulders before disappearing out of the apartment, leaving you and the curmudgeon alone.

You just let out a tired sigh before putting your bag on the floor and looking around the room. It was small but cozy. Even the view from the window wasn't bad, certainly better than in your own apartment.

“What's your name again?” you suddenly heard a deep growl and you quickly flinched as you quickly turned towards the voice. Logan was leaning against the doorframe, his hands wrapped around his chest, his biceps nearly tearing through the soft fabric he was wearing.You swallowed before looking into his face again and began to speak.

“Y/N…yours is Logan right? you tried to be nice again, thinking that the beginning was just a misunderstanding. God you are so pathetic. “Guess” he replied arrogantly and you pursed your lips into a thin line as embarrassment flooded your entire body.

"'kay...well it's kinda late, I'll go prepare some food" you informed him and Logan just nodded before walking off to who knows where. You were relieved when he left. As if his presence made you nervous, but not because of fear, but rather because of another feeling that you couldn't quite describe.

You came to the kitchen and started to assemble the ingredients on the counter. You decided to make spaghetti since that was the only thing they had all the ingredients for and looking around the fridge made you want to buy more stuff tomorrow. Apart from milk, some old rotting food and beer, they had nothing at all, men.

When you were almost done with the spaghetti, it was as if the smell summoned Logan without you having to say anything. He suddenly appeared in the kitchen watching you put spaghetti on two plates and pour tomato sauce over them. “I hope you like spaghetti” you said looking at Logan who surprisingly wasn't looking at the food like you thought, but at you. That caught you off guard a bit but not for too long.

"Mhm yeah" he said and immediately grabbed the plate when you finally added the basil leaves. Why are you even trying to decorate the food, you are not in a fancy restaurant here, but at Wade’s home. You just rolled your eyes and put noodles on your own plate. Logan's hungry chewing was making your ears pop and you couldn't wait to enjoy your dinner in quiet in your room.

No sooner had you added the spaghetti to your plate and decided to go into your room to eat, than Logan was already done with his food and obediently put the plate in the sink. Your eyes widened, Wade was right, this man eats like a beast.

"Do you want more?" he just shook his head as he wiped his red mouth with his hand and went straight into his own room. "m'kay" you whispered to yourself and since he left the living room, you decided to change your plan and eat while watching some TV.

This isn't so bad. If Logan answers with two words and doesn't have any long conversations with you where he just taunts you, 5 days will go by like nothing.

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Second day

You got up early because of the annoying alarm and went to get ready for work. You changed into comfortable but formal clothes, put on some make-up and took your bag. When you left the room, no one was there. You sighed with a smile and went straight to the front door.

Apparently Logan doesn't go to work, which you were a little envious of. He can sleep as long as he wants, then practically do whatever he wants for days, surely he must be a little bored if he's not saving the world.

"Where you're goin'?" you froze in a place when you heard Logan. You slowly turned around, and your eyes widened even more. He had nothing on than boxers, revealing his muscles, abs, and perfect body, which made your saliva fly from your lips.

You quickly wiped it off and looked back into his face. God he was hot. His hair was messy but fluffy, his face looked relaxed and tired but that stern look wasn't there anymore. "I- I am goin' to work" you answered with a shaky voice, for which you immediately cursed.

"What work?" his voice was also grainy and deep, he was literally hypnotizing you right now. "Why do you care?" you finally gain your confidence back and he rolled his eyes. "Geez just askin'" he went to the bathroom without saying bye or something like that. You didn't mind, the only thing that was bothering your brain was, why was he so interested?

Just yesterday he didn't want you here at all and now he's worried about you, that you'll leave him? You probably just overthinking. You took your keys and left the apartment as fast as you could.

When you arrived at the restaurant, your colleagues greeted you and you put on the fake mask with a smile. You changed into your suit and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes with the others.

"Hey everything okay? You look pretty frustrated" one of your colleagues asked and it took you a while to process his question. "What? Oh no it's nothing don't worry" you added a convincing smile at the end of the sentence and continued washing. Of course you're frustrated when you have nothing but Logan in your head, his body, his speech, his hair... this is going to be a fucking tough day.

When your shift ended, you were surprised you hadn't been fired. You were confused all day, mixing up orders, got in the way of your colleagues and even burned food a few times. Each of your colleagues asked you several times if everything was okay and you always gave the same answer. Yes, it is. You didn't understand it yourself, how could you be so stupid today and burn the food? This hasn't happened to you in at least 5 years...

All this happened because of your constant thoughts about Logan. You don't even know how it's possible. After all, he's Logan, the guy you were afraid of and would do anything to avoid him...but that was before you've seen him shirtless in boxers. God those thighs, just thinking about them makes your core vibrate.

Frustrated, devastated and tired, you arrived at your temporary apartment, threw your bag on the floor and leaned against the door with your eyes closed. "Tough day?" you hear that annoying but really sexy voice again, but this time it wasn't in your head.

You open your eyes and saw Logan, sitting on the couch with a can of beer, at least this time he was fully dressed. You didn't even have the strength to answer him with words, you just nodded your head. After that you crawled into your room where you had to clear your head for a while, you laid in bed and just stared at the ceiling.

After a while you heard footsteps, but luckily they crossed your room. Was it really fortunate, or rather unfortunately? Your head was a total mess. Now you could use a hot bath with rose petals and a candle around. This actually didn't sound bad at all, so you decided to indulge.

You got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where you filled the bath and let out a tired sigh. You probably won't have rose petals and candles, but the bathtub is more than enough. You closed the door, not even bothering about locking it, and took off your clothes. When the water was almost full, you turned the water off and lay down in it, a pleasant growl left your mouth, when the hot water covers all your body. You feel more relaxed than ever.

You closed your eyes and in the blink of an eye, all of your fails today and thoughts of Logan were gone. You listened to the water and the silence around you which was more pleasant than ever before. You felt like you were going to fall asleep in no time, this was exactly what you needed. Until you heard the door slam open.

You flinched and immediately looked at them in fear. Logan eyes widened a bit, when he saw you in the bathtub, but after that one second look he looked down immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry" he said and left the bathroom before you could react in any way.

You were shocked, did Logan really think you wouldn't notice the quick check out before he looks down? Well, now you will definitely not stop thinking about him and it's all your fault. If you'd just locked the stupid door, this wouldn't have happened.

You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel holding your clothes in your hand. You got another jumpscare when Logan was standing by the bathroom, leaning against the wall. How long was he there? Was he waiting for you or was he eavesdropping on you? You had so many questions but so little time.

"Hey um sorry for that" he didn't even look you in the eyes, apparently he's really sorry. "It's fine just, did you see anything?" Logan took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, giving you a clear sign that he saw something. "Oh my god-" you slammed your hand against your forehead and started flushing.

"Not everything! Just um..." "Stop. Just, act like it didn't happen okay?" you were even more frustrated than before and Logan could tell. He just nodded and walked around you to get into the bathroom. You cursed under your breath and walked into your room, where you finally locked the door and fell into bed.

Is it some kind of sign or bad karma that this is happening to you? First you see him almost naked, then he sees you, why do you deserve this? But the question that really played over and over in your head was, did he like what he saw?

He would have covered his eyes or closed the door immediately, but he just stood there watching you for a while longer. Maybe he was in shock, just like you, and you're overthinking again, or maybe not…

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Third day

You got up in the morning like you always did, did your morning routine and left for work, this time no Logan, no comments from him and it made you feel better. You knew that today was going to be a lot better than yesterday.

You didn't even have to put on a fake mask at work, you smiled for real because you had peace of mind from Logan both in your head and in the apartment in the morning. "Hey why so happy?" your colleague asked and you just shook your head. "I just slept well" which was not entirely true.

You couldn't stop thinking about that motherfucker all night. The way he looked when he saw you in that bathtub, how embarrassed he felt but also looked shy, which you would never say to such a tough guy. How he talks to you much more warmly now and how he even washes his dishes without you telling him to do it. You even had a dream about him that wasn't exactly innocent with rainbows and roses, rather the opposite. But that didn't stop you from having a bad day at work. Until you heard the familiar grumpy voice again.

"Is she here?!" "Sir, you can't talk to her right now-" "I just want to know if she works here!" oh no. You heard the angry punch into the table and knew you had to intervene. You stopped working and went from the kitchen to the restaurant behind the cash register, where was none other than the ass Logan. When he saw you, he immediately calmed down and straightened up.

"Hey, what's going on here?" you asked confused, trying to ignore Logan as best you could. "Um this gentleman is asking for you, is he your boyfriend?" "Fuck no!" you shouted, maybe a bit too much then was a necessary and looked at Logan. "The fuck you doin' here?!" this time you keep your voice low but still rough. Logan took a breath to speak but before he could, you grabbed him and went to the corner, so you won't bother the other customers.

"I um" you were surprised that he was out of words. "Goddammit just tell me!" "I was just curious where you workin' okay?! That's all..." although you haven't known Logan very long and well, you could tell he was lying. However, you didn't have time to investigate the truth so you just let out an annoyed breath.

"You can't be that aggressive here! If you don't order anything, get out!" and with those words you left him behind while walking back into the kitchen. Not gonna lie but you felt a little confident when you did this but you also felt a little guilty.

You are not the aggressive bad type like him, you find sympathy in people and you are a peaceful person who tries not to have a conflict with almost anyone. Logan is a really tough piece.

"Everything fine?" you coworker asked while frying some vegetables and you just nodded. How could you be so naive to think you'd slip through today without a single thought about Logan? You really are pathetic.

When you finished your last order, said goodbye to your colleagues and went to change clothes, fatigue hit you again. Today was better than yesterday, you were more focused and you didn't burn anything, but you still weren't yourself. You were still consumed by your thoughts and memories that your brain repeated over and over again, it was driving you crazy.

The only thing you hoped for now was that last night and the incident with Logan wouldn't happen again. You still can't tell if you liked it or not, but what you know for sure is that you can't stop thinking about that.

You left the kitchen ready to go home until you saw Logan sitting in one of the dining booths, alone, half asleep. He scared you again, like always, and you didn't know what to do, how to react, or what to say. When Logan saw you, he immediately stood up and was like a fresh fish.

"You're done?" he asked, like it wasn't weird at all that he is there sitting and waiting for you like your dad. "W-what are you doing here?" "I was waiting..." he didn't finish the sentence but he clearly meant that he was waiting for you. "Why?" you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion.

"It's pretty dark out there, something may happen" why is he so caring suddenly? Was he really waiting for you here all day, just to give you a walk home? Why? "I've been walking in the dark for years Logan and nothing happened to me" you informed him arrogantly and headed for the exit. Logan chased you like an obedient dog. "You never know" he added and quickly held the door for you like a true gentleman. You paused at his act for a moment before walking out and Logan following.

It was an awkward silent walk next to each other where you said so much but nothing at all. The street was quiet, hardly any cars passed by, and the glowing lamps around gave a pleasant atmosphere. You felt good, and maybe Logan's presence added something to that. After all, you were afraid to walk alone in the evening, even though nothing had happened to you yet, but with him you felt different, safe.

"What's for dinner?" Logan finally broke the quiet silence and struck up a conversation. "Oh um I don't know...maybe salad? If you don't mind there won't be any meat in it" Logan chuckled, hearing that laugh make your heart a little warmer. "Salad sound's good" he said as you arrive at the building.

When you got into the apartment you expected Logan to go take a shower or lock himself in his room like he always did, but this time was different. When you took off your coat and hung it on the hanger, Logan was standing in the kitchen waiting for you. You raise an eyebrow and throw a confused look at him. "You're that excited for the food or?" he shook his head and smiled. That's right, he smiled. You had no idea when did his tough-guy personality snap, but he is way nicer to you and you can't say you don't like it.

"Nope, I was thinking that I could help you..." you froze and just stared at him, still with that raised eyebrow. You were shocked, you didn't recognize him anymore. Logan notices your behavior, immediately having regrets. "but only if you want to-" "No! I mean yeah s-sure" you finally woke up and walked around Logan to get things ready. However, you couldn't escape the smirk that formed on your face.

As you pulled out the bowls and cutlery, you felt Logan's presence behind you. He was huge compared to you, covering you completely and you almost held your breath when you felt him almost touching your body. "What should I do?" he asked, his voice grainy, deep and low like a wolf, making you tremble from excitement.

You needed a second to answer him without any mistake or stuttering. “You can take the vegetables out of the fridge” you pointed your head at the fridge next to you and without a word Logan did as you told him. He put everything on the counter next to you and you couldn't help but watch his hands, how big and hairy they were and a lot of scenarios automatically appeared in your head of what you would like him to do to you with them.

"That's all we have" he breathed out and finally stood next to you, so that his dick wasn't touching your ass anymore. "That's fine, we can make something from that" you grabbed the cucumber and started removing the wrapper. Logan was watching you, really carefully and constantly watching your hand, the way you were holding that cucumber, the way you were taking off the wrapper, god he immediately started getting goosebumps and his dick started twitching in his pants.

"Give me a sec" he said quickly and left. You looked at him confused and flinched a bit when you heard the bathroom door slam. You just shrugged and continued to unwrap the cucumber. He probably just went to piss or something.

After you had almost half the vegetables cut to a small squares and thrown in a bowl, Logan finally returned. "Finally, I was thinking you ran away" Logan just chuckled awkwardly but said nothing. He watched you cut the pepper and finally decided to help you.

He took another pepper and a knife and started cutting it on the table. You didn't really care if he destroyed the table or not, it wasn't your kitchen after all. After you finished chopping all the vegetables, tossed the salad with the dressing, and Logan gave it a good toss, you were ready to feast.

You split the salad into two bowls, the same amount for each, and dipped a fork into it. Logan waited until you filled the second bowl as well, which was a little unusual as normally he would have already started eating and not even waiting for you.

Aftwr you take your bowl and Logan take his, you decided to go into the room to eat but Logan stopped you. "Hey I was thinking if you wanna watch a movie together?" again, his random nice behavior caught you by surprise. Where did the grumpy guy who literally didn't even want you in this apartment go? Apparently he's gone forever.

“Oh um…sure why not” you smiled and Logan went to sit on the couch where he was already holding the remote and selecting a movie. You obediently sat next to him, but at a sufficient distance so that you had enough space and it wasn't some kind of awkward, uncomfortable situation.

"Do you have any ideas?" he asked you as he kept switching between films. "Umm I don't know, I don't really care" you said as you finally took a bite of the salad, which was really fucking good. "Okay, you asked for it" he said and selected a horror movie called Evil Dead Rise. "Awh man this looks nasty" you said as you still chew the salad and scrunch your face in disgust. Logan just giggled and took his first bite too.

After a while watching the movie, you remembered that you are fucking scared of horrors. That film was chill at first, but after the first jump scare, you knew you are fucked. You tried to focus on the salad and not being some crybaby, but your fear got the better of you. When another jumpscare appeared, you almost throw you salad on the floor.

Logan, on the other hand, didn't move a single muscle the whole time watching. He was like a rock with a stern expression. The second he noticed your reaction, he had to look and intervene somehow. "Are you okay?" He asked and you just nodded, but your body said the opposite. You were shaking, wrapped in a ball and your eyes were bawling, the exact definition of a person being terrified to death.

Logan wasn't stupid and he knew you'd probably be peeing with fear in no time. That's why, regardless of the awkwardness of the situation, he scooted closer to you at first, seeing how you're gonna react. The closeness didn't bother you at all, so Logan put an arm around you, making you feel even safer.

"Is that 'kay?" he whispered in your ear, looking down at you while your eyes were securely locked with the TV. You nodded slightly and laid your head on his muscular chest, covered by gray shirt. It was comforting to hear his regular heartbeat. You felt amazing.

You don't even remember the last time you cuddle with someone like that. You don't care that it's Logan, all you focused on was the feeling. The way his body warmed yours, the way he made gentle circles with his finger on your shoulder and the way he breathed, these combinations made you forget about your fear.

After a while your eyelids started to feel heavy and you felt tiredness coming over you. But you were so comfortable that you didn't want to leave anywhere and that's why you succumbed to sleep really quickly on Logan's body.

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Fourth day

You grunted as rubbed your eyes. You lay in bed with your eyes closed for a while until you realized you had to go to work. Your eyes popped open and you sat on the bed as fast as you could. You looked around rashly, realizing you were in your room under the covers. But when you quickly checked the alarm clock, it was damn late. "Fuck!" you shouted and jumped from the bed like a lightning bolt.

You quickly started changing and getting ready for work, even though you were already 3 hours late. The whole time you were cursing under your breath and your heart was beating in the fastest way possible. If they don't fire you today, they never will.

After you were all ready you ran for your bag and went to the door. You've never gotten ready so quickly before. Suddenly you heard the door open and immidiately knew it was Logan. However, you didn't have time for his comments.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. When you quickly glanced at him, he looked pretty tired, like he woke up just now. In addition, he had only boxers again, messy hair and his voice was so fucking rough. When you looked at him you felt a weird feeling in your stomach. "I'm late" you said as you were putting your shoes on. Logan was processing your answer for a bit before he spoke again.

"Oh, work..." he groaned as he realized what you were late for. You just ignore him and give him a quick goodbye before you closed the door and ran to the elevator.

As soon as you opened the door to the restaurant, you ran to the dressing room to change. You tried to be so fast but you were just clumsy and rash. Your chef's suit was crooked and not even all the buttons were on when you appeared in the kitchen, trying immediately blend in. "Oh there you are! Where have you been?" one of your colleagues asked, cutting vegetables next to you. You just shake your head.

"Long night" you sighed tiredly and cooperated with preparing the food. "You're lucky boss wasn't here, you would be cooked" you look at him as he said that and you both giggled at that stupid joke. "Go fuck yourself" you nudged him with your shoulder and shook your head. But he was right, you have much more luck than sense.

You spent last night in Logan's arms and after you woke up and put yourself back together, you realized that he carried you into your room. It's not his fault you overslept, it's yours.

You shouldn't have fallen asleep, you should have just gotten up, said good night and gone to set that stupid alarm clock. But whenever you remember the feeling of him caressing you, how comforting his chest was as a pillow, how his chest smoothly rose up and down, every time your knees got week and you feel that weird feeling in your stomach. You knew what that feeling was and you hated to admit it, but you catched feelings for Logan.

You can't stop thinking about him ever since the first day, you have unchristian dreams about him and you always catch yourself watching him for too long. You never thought you'd like a bad boy, but here we are.

When you were already cleaning the kitchen and getting ready to leave, you noticed a familiar person sitting in the restaurant as one of the last ones.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you peeked more into the restaurant. Of course that the familiar figure was Logan. Again, he didn't have anything ordered, he just sat quietly and stared into nothing. You couldn't help but smile at him when.

You went to change and said goodbye to the others as you headed for the exit. You pretended not to see Logan and ignored him until he instantly came up to you. "Hey, how was work?" he asked as he gentlemanly opened the door for you and waited. You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to look down.

"It was fine, except for the morning..." you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, were you too late?" he asked as he walked closer to the road making you back up a bit. Another discreet gentlemanly move. "3 hours late..." "Damn" his eyes widened as his mouth surprisingly twitches. "Yeah, but luckily I didn't get fired so" Logan laughed and nodded his head in agreement.

"Anyway, any ideas for dinner tonight?" Logan's efforts to keep the conversation going tickled your heart. "Mhmm honestly I don't know…how about pizza?" you looked up at his face waiting for reaction. "Like homemade pizza?" Logan looked into your eyes and you tried to hold eye contact as long as you could. “Of course duh” Logan smiled at your addition and nodded his head. "Sure why not"

You were slicing salami while Logan poured a ketchup mix over the pizza dough. "What about some music?" he asked, still focusing on the smearing. You stopped cutting and looked at him. "Music?" you asked, giving him a confused look. He nodded, looking at you too and when he saw your expression, he stopped his actions and went somewhere.

You were watching him, as he walked to the radio and pressed something on it until a song started playing. Your smile widened and you started laughing, when you saw Logan dancing. He was moving his hips awkwardly and you can see that he really can't dance. His danced moves could be compared to dad style in the 80s.

You needed to cover your mouth and hold your stomach, because the laughter started to hurt, but you couldn't stop. Logan looked at you and held out his hand in front of him as he approached you. You shook your head and almost collapsed on the ground laughing. "Come on!" he shook his hand, convincing you to join him.

After a lot of refusing and giggling, Logan finally convinced you to dance. When you grabbed his hand, he immediately took advantage of it and pulled you a little closer to his body. You squeal a bit at the sudden move, but you immediately cooperated.

You held each other's hands and did little circles with them as your legs scuttle back and forth. You laughed and squirmed, Logan spun you around from time to time and you enjoyed it as much as you could. This is one of those moments that sticks deep in your head. A memory that will always popped up, whenever you hear Logan.

The music pulsed softly through the air, a fast, intoxicating rhythm that seemed to wrap around you and Logan like a delicate thread, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, your eyes locking for a heartbeat too long, and the intensity there sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

You tried to focus on the steps, on the sway of the dance, but something about the way Logan’s body moved with yours was deeply distracting. His scent, clean and warm, enveloped you, making your pulse quicken in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Then, without warning, your leg caught the edge of his, and you stumbled, your balance suddenly thrown off. Logan’s arms shot out, catching you before you could fall, pulling you tightly against him to steady you. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, your breath, the world, even the music seemed to fade into the background as you realized just how close you were.

Your faces were mere inches apart, your lips almost brushing his. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a fleeting second before meeting your eyes again. The air between you crackled with tension, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Everything about this moment screamed for you to close that agonizingly small distance, to let yourself get lost in the magnetic pull between you.

Logan’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours as he fought against the same urge. You could see it in his eyes, the desire, the restraint, the way he was holding himself back even though every inch of him seemed to be aching to close the gap. His gaze flickered down to your lips again, and this time, it lingered longer. You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly, as if you were subconsciously inviting him to make the move.

For a moment, you both stood at the edge of temptation, teetering on that invisible line. Neither of you spoke, afraid that even a whisper might break the fragile tension and push you over the edge. Your bodies pressed together, heat pooling between you, your breaths shallow and in sync.

But then, something held both of you back. Maybe it was the weight of all that had led to this moment, the fear of crossing a line you couldn’t uncross, or maybe it was the unspoken agreement to savor this tension just a little longer. Neither of you moved, though the pull between you was undeniable. The space between your lips remained tantalizingly close, yet untouched.

“Close call,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of humor and the tension he was trying so hard to rein in.

You smiled, feeling your own pulse slowly return to normal, though the lingering heat of the moment still burned between you. “Too close,” you whispered back, your eyes holding his for a second longer before you reluctantly eased back, just enough to regain some space, some clarity.

“We should finish that” Logan gently let go of you and pointed his head to the half-done pizza in the kitchen. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the situation that just happened and from the feelings you experienced. You were a little disoriented, just as Logan except, he could hid it better.

After you finished the pizza, the atmosphere wasn't so stiff anymore. Logan was telling funny stories about his past and you just laughed and tried not to get overwhelmed by his gorgeous face. Sometimes when you listened to Logan, the world slowed down and everything was black and white except for him. He shone like the brightest star in the darkness.

After enjoying dinner, cleaning the dishes together and saying good night, you couldn't even fall asleep. You couldn't shake the thought of Logan, that moment when your lips were so dangerously close and even though you didn't have any superpowers, you could feel that he wanted it just as much as you did.

Feeling his beard brushing against your soft skin, feeling his tongue inside your mouth, you could just dream about it. Also, tomorrow is the last day. You don't know if it's good or bad, you don't know if you're happy or just afraid, you don't know anything at all. After all, deep down in your head you had a soft spot and a longing for Logan.

Inwardly, you longed to spend a few more days with him, a few nights alone and see what would happen. This overthinking went too far, you kept your eyes open all night and stared at the ceiling, while outside the birds started whistling and sun rising.

It's here, the last morning in this bed, the last dinner with Logan, the last day.

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Fifth day

You stayed up all night, your stomach churning at the thought that today is final day. At the same time, you couldn't get that moment between you and Logan out of your mind, when just a milimeter was missing and your lips would be stuck together. The desire for Logan, the need to always have him with you and not let him go, was growing by every minute. His smell of cigarettes and scotch always tickled your olfactory cells. Every time you felt him, it was like your heart burst with excitement. But now you couldn't smell it, the only thing that tickled your nose was the steam from the food in restaurant.

"Hey, are you okay?" a colleague nudged your shoulder. "Huh? Yeah I am fine, I am fine..." you weren't fine. The thought of packing up your clothes today and moving back to your apartment, alone. That there will be no one here to hug and protect you while watching a horror movie, that no one will help you prepare dinner, these thoughts were pressing all the points to make you cry.

Despite all these emotions, you tried to keep yourself in check and continue working as if nothing happened, as if the world wasn't practically collapsing before your eyes. You tried to think positively and looked forward to Logan waiting for you again in one of the booths and escorting you to the apartment and making dinner together while talking.

When you finally finished your shift and said goodbye to the others, you walked out of the kitchen looking for Logan with hope in your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn't find him anywhere. There was no one in the restaurant anymore and your positive thinking was gone. You went alone with gloomy face. This is last night and he just ignore you like that?

When you arrived at the apartment, upset, you were a little surprised to see Logan in the kitchen making dinner. He looked behind his shoulder and his corners lifted up a bit when he saw you. "Hey...sorry I didn't pick you up today, I was preparing dinner" he excused himself and your anger towards him was gone immediately.

Your face softened and your heart melted. He's also sad that it's the last night and he wanted to make it up to you somehow. He doesn't even have to say it with words.

"It's f-fine..." you said, still a bit shocked but more flattered. You walked up next to him, curious about what he is preparing. "Spaghetti?" you asked, even though you saw exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah, we had them on a first night, remember?" he looks at you and you chuckle at the memory. "Oh yeah, you were all grumpy and just took it" Logan scoffed and nodded. "Yeah..."

"Well, it'll be done in a bit, so do your stuff and then we'll go eat, hm?" you just nodded excitedly and fought the urge to kiss him on his cheek as a grateful gesture. You literally ran to your room, closed it and wanted to change into some comfortable clothes. The thing was that all your clothes were dirty and even when you tried really hard to find at least a one clean shirt, it was pointless.

You sat on the bed with a sigh and wondered what you were going to do. "Hey um I just go take a quick shower okay?" Logan burst into your room without knocking and you jumped a bit. He was gone before you could even answer him.

"Okay...." you whispered under your breath and immediately got an idea. You sneaked into Logan's room looking for his shirt. After all, he won't notice that you're wearing it, and if he does, you can explain it to him.

You didn't look long and saw a gray shirt thrown on the bed. You shrugged, grabbed it and walked out of his room into yours. You instantly stuck it to your nose and inhaled its scent. Cigarettes and scotch, oh the combination was sending waves of pleasure between your legs and you couldn't take it anymore. You quickly removed all your clothes and put on his shirt. It was huge on you, it touched your knees and you laugh.

You could still feel him as if he was with you, on top of you and that was exactly what you wanted. You laid down on the bed and closed your eyes, your brain immediately cooperating and starting to create million scenarios while you were still smelling him. The vibrating between your legs started being unbearable and you had to stop it somehow.

I slowly moved my hand to the fabric of Logan's shirt. I stopped between my legs and lifted the shirt up, a sigh left your lips as you felt the cold air touching your folds. Your hand moved down, your fingers slightly touching your folds, making gentle friction. Your moves were slow and sweet, just heating up before you started putting more pressure.

Your jaw fall open as you inserted one finger in, twirling inside and stretching your walls. You imagined that it was Logan's finger that worked a miracle, that filled you with emotions and the need to feel something inside you, to feel him inside you. You desperately tried to reach the sponge spot, that whenever you touch your head you go dizzy in a second.

You needed more, that's why you insert another finger inside you, moving in unison with your hips. You tried to catch up with your orgasm with gentle but eager sensations, Logan's images replayed in your head over and over and your sighs got louder and louder.

“Hey have you seen my gray T-shirt anywhere-“ Logan walked in, not bothering to knock. You gasped at the surprise and immediately covered yourself with a blanket. Logan weist was wrapped by a towel, making you even more wet at the sigh.

"Oh shit" he looked away embarrassed, but you were the one who should be. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you knock?" you asked, trying to wash off the embarrassment and replace it with anger.

Logan shook his head, still looking away from you. "Look I'm so sorry I was just looking for my T-shirt" "Well I don't have it so go check somewhere else" you said, your voice calm but your heart beat fast. Logan finally gains the confidence to look back at you, furrowing his eyebrows. "Wait, is that my T-shirt you're wearing?"

You tried to be as calm as possible. “What? No, why would I be wearing your shirt?” All your muscles were tense and you prayed that Logan wouldn't notice. “No that's definitely my shirt” he look at the piece that protruded from the blanket as his corner of his mouth lifted up a bit.

You quickly tried to hide more even tho you knew you were fucked. "No...it's not" Logan came closer to you. "Hey, stop tryna hide under the covers..." he grabbed the blanket and tried to pull it off of you, but as hard as you could try, he was much stronger than you.

"Let me just see it" after an unfair fight, Logan won and tore the blanket off you, revealing his shirt on your body. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he saw you. “So you are wearing my shirt” he narrowed his eyes and you started to panic.

“Yeah and what about it? It's the only clean thing I could find and it's comfortable” although you were telling the truth, it wasn't completely true, because deep down you know very well why you took his shirt. Logan chuckled at your answer and came even closer to you, standing right above you.

"So you're telling me it's just a coincidence that your hands are between your thighs wearing the same T-shirt I was just wearing?" oh you were so cooked. "It's not even like that..." you still tried to save it, but it was already too late. Logan giggled again, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. "I'm not dumb, I know what you're doing"

Oh he was so freaking hot right now, and he knew it. "You're so fucking desperate" now there was nothing and no one to stop Logan in his way. He completely ripped the blanket off of you and got on the bed above you. In this moment you realize, all your desires are finally coming true.

He didn't hesitate for a second before pressing his lips to yours, aggressively and roughly. You immediately cooperated, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs unintentionally removing Logan's towel as you wrapped your legs around his weist. You could immediately feel his length, making you whine a bit in the kisses.

Logan's hands were not docile and explored your body. He started from your thighs, continued under your t-shirt to your stomach and finally ended on your breasts, which he squeezed and massaged. You pulled out of the kiss, your eyes shut tightly as you sighed his name. Oh he loved the view he had right now. But he still needed more.

He attacked your neck with aggressive bites, leaving marks that will heal for a long time. "~Logan~" you moaned his name as you grabbed his fluffy hair and tugged them whenever he found that sensitive spot. You could feel his smile forming on his face, while sucking and licking your, now red neck.

Logan felt your wetness, your arousal. How he was grateful for those urgent instincts right now. He finally removed his teeth from your neck, but he definitely wasn't done with you. You opened your eyes as you watched him creeping down. His devilish smile not leaving his face for a second. The image of Logan's face between your legs drives you crazy and you couldn't wait to finally feel him. "You smell so fucking good kitty" he said before his lips leaned against your folds.

His hot breath on your bare core was sending shivers down your spine and you fight against every nerve in your body not to burst your hips into his face. He notices your desperate face and your shaking body, so he decides not to torture you anymore. He licked your fold, incredibly slowly but intensively, that you had to arch your back.

He repeated this move a few times, sucking all the wetness you could give him from the outside, before he burst his tongue inside you without any warning. You scream his name and pull his hair as his sudden move catches you off guard, making him chuckle.

His tongue was swirling inside you licking up all your juice, you were delicious. His nose was poking your sensitive clitoris, sending you even faster to your edge. Your hips were moving along his tongue, desperate for more friction and tried to reach your orgasm.

Logan stretched your walls even more, eating you like you were the best meat he had in years, his speed was unbelievable and the pleasure in you indescribable. You feel the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen and you knew you couldn't hold it in for long. You clenched around Logan's tongue, making it harder for him to continue, but he didn't stop. You tightly shut your eyes and throw your head back, as you almost pulled out some of Logan's hair.

He holds you firmly by your thighs, as your hips lose control and after few more twirl moves of his tongue inside you, the feeling of relief wash over your whole body, goosebombs appeared on your skin and your chest was rapidly rising and falling.

You smile, trying to catch your breath but your eyes were still shut. Logan climbed higher, he was now face to face. You felt his heavy breath against your cold nose, so you opened your eyes and smiled even more. Your juice glistened on Logan's beard and his hair messy, proof of your work.

He giggled as he saw your cheeks all red, your forehead sweaty and your hair destroyed, he loved what he was doing to you. "You're fucking beautiful princess" he said before he kissed you, giving you a taste of yourself. You loved the way he kissed. Hungry and furious kisses, but also sweet and gentle and si was his touch.

He explored you with his massive hands, his fingerprints all over your body. You looked really small in his hands, the sigh makes him even harder.

He couldn't get enough of you, he longed to hear you scream his name.

He quickly adjusted his hips and checked down, before he rammed into you, without any warning. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, as you felt his massive length inside you. The joke was, he wasn't even fully in yet.

You bite your lips, trying to be as quiet as you could but Logan didn't make it easier for you. He was inserting himself deeper, stretching your walls as far as they could go and he finally let out a big sigh, when he was balls deep in.

You felt so full, that every place inside you was now completely filled and there wasn't even room for air. You hold tightly Logan's neck and started making a blood mess on your lips as you dug into them with your teeth.

He chuckled and gave you a few hungry kisses, before backing up to get a good look at you. "Don't hold it in princess, let me hear you" his grainy voice tickles your eardrums and right before he finished this sentence, he started moving his hips. Just small smooth movements at first, he barely got out of you. Even though they were peaceful movements, it sent you sky high.

Your lips parted as you started leaving a quiet whispers and whimpers, barely heard but Logan heard them very well. Those pretty sounds of yours makes his mind go wild and he started gaining speed and strength in his hips.

Those smooth sweet movements? All gone in a second. They were fading into lustful, rough and uncontrollable thrusting, that makes those regular clapping sounds.

You rolled your eyes as he was hitting just the sponge wet spot inside you, you tried to desperately reach yourself before. "Hey, look at me" Logan growled through clenched teeth, and you with a bit of struggle manage to look at his focused face.

His hands find their way to your hips, keeping you in a place while he was pushing into you, desperately trying to catch up with his orgasm. He sat on his knees, looking at you from above, clearly showing who is dominant here.

You just seductively let him do anything with you he just wanted. You loved it, the feeling, the situation, the atmosphere, Logan. Everything together was sending you closer and closer to your edge. Sice you lost your hold spot when Logan sat down, your hands found the sheet around you and held them tight.

The wet sound started to permeate the whole room, after a while even the entire apartment. Your brain stopped controlling your body, which is why you started letting out loud moans and whimpers of Logan's name. It was pleassure to his ears.

He stopped counting how many times he imagined you like this, beneath him, fucking your soul out of you. How tears stream down your face and you beg for more as you scream his name. These thoughts and these dreams kept him awake and he himself is surprised that it took him so long to do this, to fuck you properly.

He feels that he is close and so were you. Another orgasm of the day was approaching very quickly, making your legs started vibrating. Logan growled, sigh softly, keeping his eyes on your face the entire time. Well, not the entire time, just a few times he checkedthe part where you were connected.

You started feeling that familiar urge to pee, while Logan's dick was twitching inside you, but not stopping hitting that juicy spot. You were over the edge now. You tried your best not to close your eyes and not release already, even though you knew it would come in any second. Logan also fought all the demons so he wouldn't cum into you and empty his balls, but he wouldn't last long either.

“Fuck” he huffed, dropping his head down while his hips lost control. His movements defied all laws of physics, the entire bed creaked with you and your entire body tensed.

"Logan I-" you couldn't even finish your though before you tightened around Logan, arch your back and close your eyes, finally letting the climax get you. Logan didn't stop, he couldn't, when he was so close to his orgasm too, his precum already mixing with your juice.

Logan felt it, he quickly leaned forward so his stomach was touching yours and he pressed his face into the pillow right next to your head as he thrust into you one last time with the most force. You moaned by his hit, still feeling dizzy from the recent orgasm. He growls like a wild animal as he cums into you, his fingers digging into your skin, definitely leaving bruises there.

You both breathe heavily, staying in this position for a bit. Your bodies were hot with sweat as you still processed the moment.

When your breathing finally calmed, Logan unhooked his face from the pillow and looked at you with a smile. "Don't look at me like that I look like a total mess..." you chuckle from embarrassment and close your eyes. "Said something bad about yourself again and you won't be able to walk for a month" your breath got caught up in your throat as you heard those words. He said that so casually.

"You're gorgeous" he added at the end and kissed you softly, calming your pulse and heartbeat down. After that he slowly pulled out of you, both groaning from the friction again and Logan collapsed next to you. You didn't wait and scooched yourself on Logans body, your leg laying on his while your head listening to those cute regular beats of his heart.

Logan immediately pulled you closer to his body and caressed your shoulder, making gentle circles on it. Your eyes were closed, trying to rest while being still full of the hormone of happiness. Your smile couldn't leave your face and neither could Logan's.

"What about the spaghetti?" you whisper softly, making Logan giggle. "They're probably cold now" he sigh, keep caressing your shoulder. You just grunted, too tired to answer that or even think of an answer. "Are you hungry?" Logan asked immediately with concern and you shook your head with a bit of burden. He relaxed after that and closed his eyes too. Both of you were tired and too lazy to get dressed.

"Would you look at that!" Suddenly you heard another male voice, this one was annoying and quite provocative. You both knew who it was right away. You quickly jerked away from each other when you looked at the door. Wade was leaning against the doorframe, his hands crossed on his chest and his smile was so fucking annoying.

You and Logan were frozen in shock, not knowing what to say or how to even react. "You take the 'take care of him' a bit seriously, don't you think?" you tried to defend yourself, explain it somehow, but you can't get out of this situation.

"Get out" Logan growled sternly but it didn't scare Wade at all. "Wow I mean damn I...I don't really know what to say-" "GET THE FUCK OUT!" Logan screamed this time, even you got goosebumps when you heard him. That already took its toll on Wade. "Okay okay chill...I'm just happy for you guys" he slowly closed the door but right before the end, he quickly opened them again.

"How many rounds did you have?" "GET OUT!" you both scream in union and Wade finally closes the door fully, leaving you two in a very uncomfortable situation.

You slowly looked at Logan and he did the same, but your staring contest broke as you both burst out laughing. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline you still had in your blood, or just a copy mechanism when something really embarrassing happened, either that you were crying from laughing, still laying next to each other, still naked and still in love with each other.

No one warned you that these five days would be the best of your life.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[lokissweater]

“i would never lie to you.”

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: inumaki’s always coming home to you from missions coughing up mass amounts of blood and completely overdoing it while fighting curses with his cursed speech technique. and no matter how many times you tell him to be careful, he just doesn’t, arguing with him, giving him the cold shoulder, and completely unaware of the reason behind why he fights so hard when he’s out there— that reason being of course… because of you.

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, toge and reader have a lil argument but it’s more the aftermath, slight sexual mention but it’s literally once and nothing LOL, no smut!, toge thinks he’s not doing enough SNIFFF, angst with comfort, toge is DEVOTED to you, aged up characters, pet names, afab!reader.

word count: 2.3k

authors note: short n sweet one!! wanted to give you guys a break from my MLA format essays i always make y’all read LMFAOOO!! this one is SHO SOFT AHHHH :] i hope this keeps you guys fed in the meantime while i write the next one! i love you and i love you all ALWAYS MWAAHH <33

————————————————————————

toge inumaki hates it when you don’t talk to him.

as if he doesn’t do that enough already, toge absolutely despises when you both get into arguments or heated discussions and you turn a cold shoulder to him— needing space to unwind and prevent yourself from lashing out even more, to let the situation simmer down.

he understands it. believe him he does— you’re upset and angry and you need time to cool off… but toge is stubborn and needy and just doesn’t care, needing you and only you, him going absolutely crazy at the silence in your shared apartment that he was starting to hear random ringing in his ear drums.

so as he sat on the couch, eyes unblinking as they stared off into the darkness of the living room as the sun had already began to set, you upstairs locked away— he wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and let his cursed speech force you to come downstairs and talk to him.

but he didn’t, though the thought was definitely tempting, as toge vowed the day that he laid eyes on you to never ever use his cursed technique on you, even if it was harmless, an oath he wanted to carry with him until his very death bed and until he was six feet under.

his ears perked up then at the quiet sounds of the upstairs room door knob twisting and clicking open, soft padded footsteps making their way down the hall and closer to where he was, feet sticking against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

at the sight of you with your hair a little disheveled, your eyes so red and puffy, and an arm wrapped around yourself as you rummaged through the fridge looking for fuck knows what and not sparing a single glance at him— toge felt like a fifty pound gutting weight was resting on his chest and crushing his heart.

you had both argued about something you always seemed to circle back to almost every week. but this time, you were sick and tired and fed up, seeing as toge was never going to try and understand the situation at hand through your worried eyes.

every time toge was out for a mission, you would spend your days anxiously throwing yourself over the couch or trying to keep yourself busy with random activities like baking or scrapbooking (which you deemed later meaningless), all within the sole purpose of trying to get your mind off of your boyfriend and the recklessness he always seemed to pull while on missions, regardless of how much you begged and pleaded with him to be more careful and aware of his health.

toge inumaki had such a powerful and lethal cursed technique that frightened and astonished you all at the same time, a conflicting feeling to have when he had to leave you in the middle of the night or during the early hours of the morning to run around and fight curses… but always coming home to you warm and loving and safe.

but not right now.

not when toge had literally come home this morning with not even two steps in the door and he was already on his knees, coughing up strings and loads of crimson blood, it pooling on the floor as he had used his cursed speech to the highest degree today and had you a crying mess thinking he was dying.

and he always did that. always. today was just the worst of them all, him without a fault coming home with excruciating pain in his bruised and clawed up throat, the cough syrup medicine he usually downed like water having absolutely no effect anymore as you scrambled around every time trying to find a solution, toge brushing off your distressed and frightened rambling as if his health wasn’t a big deal, and as if how much it affected you wasn’t a big deal either.

upon you closing the fridge, toge slowly stood from the couch and carefully walked over to you, his throat still in pieces but his mind lurching and guilty over how upset you were at him.

he slowly raised a gentle hand and placed it on your shoulder, you shaking your head somberly in response— your back to him.

“i don’t wanna talk right now toge i’m sorry…” you mumbled, rubbing over your tired sore eyes.

he squeezed your shoulder, insisting.

but you only shook your head again.

toge huffed and placed both hands on your shoulders this time, physically turning you around to face him— his eyes soft and his eyebrows pinched together in pure concern for you.

you peeked up reluctantly, but the sight of his face and the events from earlier flashing through your mind only made your bottom lip wobble and the bottom of your palms shoot up to dig into your eyes, more stinging tears flooding in and slipping through the corners of your closed lids.

his heart fucking broke.

“why don’t you care toge?” you hiccuped. “i worry myself sick every time you leave for a mission and— and that’s fine because it’s what you do but you never take care of yourself!”

he gently pried your shaking hands away from your eyes and wiped your tears softly with his thumbs, caressing your cheeks after— wishing so badly, more than anything in this fucking world, to just be able to speak to you like a normal human being instead of resorting to words scrambled on a piece of paper or text messages on a screen.

he gently placed a little timid peck to your nose before releasing your face and fumbling around in his pockets for his phone, tapping it awake once he retrieved it and opening his notes app to write out a sentence.

he flipped and faced the screen towards you, the brightness making you squint a bit.

“i do care i swear. i just always forget when i’m in the middle of it and i’m sorry baby.”

“so you keep forgetting after what feels like the fifteenth time i’ve told you?” you wiped more tears from your cheeks. “how— how do you think it makes me feel when you come home and you’re coughing up blood all over your clothes and the furniture huh? all over me?”

he sighed softly through his nose and went to type again, but you continued.

“i get scared toge that one day you’ll push yourself way too far and then you just won’t come home. you scare me when you cough up so much blood like that!—”

toge tugged you in then with his unoccupied hand and wrapped his arms around you, pushing your head in and stuffing your face against his chest— the scent of his freshly washed t-shirt filling your nose as you cried softly.

fuck he felt like such a douche.

he typed for a moment behind your head, a pit in his stomach that only grew in size the longer he heard your little sniffles.

toge pulled back a bit, his arms still keeping you in place but just enough so that he could lower his phone and show you his message.

“please please don’t cry. i’m really sorry okay i really am and honest to god this won’t happen again.”

you nodded meekly and he flipped his phone back, quickly typing again and showing you once he finished.

“i feel like you think i don’t care but that’s not true at all. part of the reason why i try so hard when i work is because the more curses i fuck up the safer you’ll be when you’re out there without me.”

you laughed a bit at his wording, and he beamed at that, typing.

“i love you pretty girl. and im sorry i always get blood everywhere.”

“oh i don’t care about the mess baby, i care about youu,” you whined lightly and wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him in tight.

“and i love you too, a lot… like an embarrassing amount that strips away my dignity.”

he chuckled boyishly and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his body stuttering slightly as a single thought grazed his mind— the same thought that’s been in the crevices of his brain since he asked you to be his.

you felt his tension and pulled back.

“what?”

toge bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at you, his weight shifting as he contemplated telling you something he didn’t want to burden or upset you with, the pad of his thumb softly rubbing over your chubby cheek.

you quirked an eyebrow. “what? are you cheating on me?”

he burst out laughing and shook his head, kissing your forehead before dropping his hand from your cheek and pulling out his phone again.

he typed for a minute then showed you.

“me not being able to speak to you like a normal boyfriend should or respond to you whenever makes me freaking useless. so i push myself out there to keep you safe because that’s literally the least i can do for you, since i can’t even do the bare minimum.”

you gasped softly. “toge huh? this is—”

he shook his head once more and you stopped as he typed again.

“i always try to make you laugh with the things that i do or whenever i text you because i’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me not being able to talk to you and you’ll leave. which is also something i would never blame you for and understand.”

your heart squeezed in the worst excruciatingly way possible, completely baffled and mortified to the fact that toge was thinking about things like this and wholeheartedly believing it without you noticing or him saying anything to you about it.

he typed again.

“that’s why i cosplay as gojo when i leave for missions and come back a dumbass with blood in my mouth. that’s why i forget when you tell me to be careful because the need to be something for you is way fucking greater.”

“togeee!” you sobbed, bursting out crying like a little baby as you were moved and haunted by his words simultaneously, your arms engulfing him as he desperately shot his hands out and quickly wiped your tears again, shaking his head frantically as if pleading with you not to cry.

“how could you ever believe that?” you nudged him away and hiccuped, your eyes serious. “why haven’t you told me about this? everything you just said is literally propaganda.”

he chuckled, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“toge, why do you think i’ve been with you for so long? do you think i’m just dicking around?”

“dicking around on my dick?”

you swatted his phone away. “no! not right now.”

you both shared a small giggle, twinkling eyes looking at each other.

“if i felt like you weren’t doing even the bare minimum, i would’ve been gone before you had the chance to put this ring on—”

his gaze drifted down to the black shiny heart promise ring on your ring finger that you held up for him, and he smiled softly.

“baby what you do for me everyday is above and beyond the bare minimum. i’m happy. i’m so happy to be with you that you not doing enough has never crossed my mind and it never will.”

you slid your arms around his neck and pulled him down a little, gently. “i’ve never cared about your ability to speak. i fell in love with you, who you are, and the fact that i did without you having to iterate words to me? olympic sport.”

toge rolled his eyes playfully at your comment, and you stood on your tippy toes and kissed the tip of his pretty nose then. “all men do when they talk is lie anyways…” you tilted your head. “but i know you’ll never lie to me.”

“never.” he mouthed silently.

he bundled you up in his arms and lifted you like you were nothing, him carefully leaning in and pressing his lips to yours as if you were a fragile little thing— kissing you so devotedly, warmly, his forehead resting against yours once he pulled apart after greedily getting his daily fix of you.

“i know your job as a jujutsu sorcerer pays the bills and comes with you putting yourself in difficult situations… and my job doesn’t even compare, but please don’t overdo it for my sake. i want you to come home, okay?”

you know it’s selfish… he should be saving lives no matter the cost.

but he was your man. was it so bad to just want to keep him for the rest of your days? to get the chance to grow old with him, and buy a little quiet house on the country side like you always joked about in the late hours of the night with him? drinking cool glasses of lemonade on the porch?

“please don’t always be the hero.” you whispered guiltily. “but if you must… just keep me in mind while you do it.”

you’re always on his mind. he hopes you know that.

toge breathed softly through his nose and smoothly set you back down, the pads of your feet making contact with the icy tile flooring as his hands dragged up from around your waist to the sides of your head, him pushing a hard kiss to your cheek as if to seal your request.

“do you promise?” you mumbled.

he pulled back and held his little pinky out for you, and you giggled, linking yours with his firmly.

“you can’t go back on it okay? you used your pinky it’s legally binding!” you warned, a silly smile on your face. “don’t lie to me and break it.”

toge grinned and leaned towards you as he bent down a bit— your gaze locking with his as he looked at you at eye level with his hands on his knees, him mouthing his next words, slowly.

words that made your cheeks buzz a cutesy pink, words that he took seriously, and words that tied you to him and the little house by the countryside he wanted so badly with you, as those words solidified how much he truly truly loved you— him hoping you always knew.

“i would never lie to you.” he mouthed.

taglist!! <33: @saebaey

[chuluoyi]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 (𝐔𝐍)𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋

- sylus x reader

master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—angst, fluff, unrequited love, explicit smut, fwb, jealousy, hurt/comfort, description of major injury, blood loss, gore, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), spoilers! takes place throughout long-awaited revelry

note: my very first love and deepspace fic! :') w.c 5.2k ! i have a severe brainrot omg tagging @sanriosatoru per request <3

Everyone knows of your relationship with Sylus.

The leader of Onychinus and his notorious lady assassin, you two strike fear into his foes and allies alike. You are as deadly as you are beautiful, and that's more or less why he keeps you around.

What everyone doesn't know, however... is that behind closed doors, you too share his wealth and his bed.

“I don't mind to spend the whole night with you,” he’d whisper in your ear seductively at nights, deft and veiny hands roaming your body all over. He often made you ride on top of him, dark burgundy eyes hazed with lust, knowing full well that you desired the very same goal he did.

And you’d respond his hunger with the same fervor, crashing your lips into his, your tongues intertwining, your hips moving vigorously against him.

“Ahh... ah!” Before you knew it, his cock—thick and long in size—slid inside you in such a snug fit, making you throw your head back and dig your sharp nails into his skin.

“Keep me going with your voice, kitten.” Sylus growled, eyeing your wobbling lips and tightly-pressed eyes as he sank even deeper inside you. “Yeah, just like that...”

Sylus always began roughly, seemingly not minding your breathless moans and wishes, and you liked him that way too—

“Is this... all you've got?” you panted in a hoarse voice, sweat lining your neck and forehead, the coil in your belly tightened so deliciously each time he thrusted into you. “Surely... y-you can do better...”

“Ha,” he gave a low snort, his red eyes blazing as he grabbed your bum and squeezed it, making you gasp. “Careful what you wish for... sweetie.”

And then your vision literally tilted upside down—Sylus gladly flipped your position so he could see you even better. This way, he also had even better access to you, intertwining your hand with his, spreading your legs wide so he could rut into you.

“—!” Breath was knocked out of your lungs as immeasurable pleasure washed over you, crashing and receding in an instant. You almost screamed as your back arched.

He broke into a satisfied smirk. “Let it out,” he murmured against your neck, biting gently into your skin, voice muffled. “You never hold back with me, do you, hmm? So, don’t start now.”

“You b-bastard...” you looked up at him with a breathless smile, knowing how close you were to losing your wits.

He simply made your nights worth remember. His allure was undeniable, with a voice that was naturally sultry. And his hands... fuck, they did heaven's work.

It didn't take you long to finally reach your climax, and once you did, your moans were the nastiest all night as you continuously lined his back with scratches.

You could feel how he was chasing his own orgasm all the while, before pulling out right at the last minute and made a mess on your belly, falling beside you.

“Tired?” Sylus’ chest rumbled with laughter as you laid sprawled there in a haze. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your burning cheeks. “I really like this look on your face right now.”

You rolled your eyes, catching your breath and shivered. “I bet you tell that to all other women you manage to lure to your bed.”

“How presumptuous.” He sent you a sour scowl. “I have a high standard— you should consider yourself lucky.”

Well, you do. Holding back a smile, you changed the topic. “I’m cold. Clean me up already.”

“Now, now… what a spoiled little thing you are…” Sylus chuckled, his voice deep and low, yet wrapping his arms around you nonetheless, hoisting you up.

Nights of passion. Mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more and less.

No strings attached.

This is thrilling. Intimacy without commitment is more than enough to spice your checkered life. After all, what could be better and more rewarding than fucking the hottest man in N109 Zone and getting away with it?

At least, you thought so.

. . .

“Damn, you’re going to make me sore…” you grumbled, letting out a deep sigh as you sank into the sheets after he had cleaned you up, still basking in the afterglow and ready to drift off to sleep. “Ahh...”

Sylus’ lips curved into a wry smile as he watched you make yourself comfortable on his bed, slipping on his black shirt. “Well, I’m just that good, and you did ask for it.”

“Are you going out?” you asked in a small voice, teetering between sleep and wakefulness as you noticed him taking out his favorite gun. “It’s midnight.”

“Luke and Kieran said she has arrived.” Sylus said in low voice, not even sparing you a look. “After all, she has gone through all that trouble to come here, it is only right that I greet her myself.”

The woman. Sylus had told you several times, how a woman with Aether Core and powerful Resonance Evol would eventually come to N109 Zone. And that when the time came, he would make her resonate with him.

A part of you didn’t really know what to feel about this vague plan of his. “Will you bring her here too?”

“I’ll have her stay here until we have reached resonance,” he responded casually while shrugging on his coat.

Sylus valued others depending on their worth. He said it so himself—he isn't a philanthropist. He saw potential in your evol—the Speech Manipulation—which is why he rescued you three years ago, even after you had swung a blade to his throat.

This time must be the same. You played with the edges of your hair. “Well, consider me jealous then. Seems like I’ll have a rival soon.”

Your quip finally caught his attention, as he finally turned to you, one side of his mouth upturned.

“Ha.” Sylus strolled over to where you lay on the bed and placed a hand under your chin, letting out a throaty chuckle. “Is there even anyone brave enough to go against you?”

You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “We shall see about that.”

Little did you know, the coming of this new girl would be the start of the undoing of your mutually beneficial relationship.

You would've expected the woman bearing Aether Core inside her to be way more interesting than that clueless, weak and easily spooked hunter from Linkon City.

But your and Sylus' definitions of interesting clearly differed though, as you caught him smiling after he pulled the most outrageous stunt on himself— having her shoot him right in the heart.

“She is funny,” he said to himself, almost snickering even as you wiped the blood off his toned body. “She was shaking so much the moment I pulled the trigger.”

“Is that your only finding—” you snapped as you wrapped the bandage around his bare chest, fuming. “—after shooting yourself just to mess with her?”

Luke and Kieran told you how he had used his Evol to pull the hunter girl onto his lap, then handed her a gun and made her shoot him. You couldn't believe it at first, until the sight of Sylus staggering to his bedroom, his shirt bloodied and clutching his chest made you almost scream in horror.

“Is that really necessary?” you scowled, tightening the bandage with more force than needed. “Or are you just trying to get her attention?”

Sylus’ sharp gaze settled on you then, seemingly not taking your comment well.

“What’s got you so worked up about this, hmm?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he observed your cross expression. “Last I checked, we agreed not to get involved in each other’s personal affairs.”

Personal affairs, he said? Everything you two had done had long past breached all personal boundaries.

But the fact remains that you two are nothing more than—

“Fine.” You tied the bandage abruptly and about to storm off, making no effort to conceal your ire. You couldn’t say you were worried or that you hated seeing blood smeared across him. That was never in the agreement.

Until you felt a hard tug on your arm—

“And where does the angry kitty think she is going, hmm?”

Before you could discern it, your back was pressed against the wall—your left arm pinned beside your head, with Sylus filling your view.

His sculpted abs were right in front of you for the taking, his scent permeated the air, and his unsettling swirls of crimson eyes had you completely captivated.

“Have I ever told you that you look beautiful when you’re angry?” Sylus laughed as he leaned in, gripping your chin with his other hand. “If I didn’t know you were more than capable of slitting my throat in my sleep, I’d want you to look at me like this every day.”

It struck you how your heart raced wildly under his intense gaze. With his perfect face so close, the only sound that seemed to be most prominent was the pounding of your own heartbeat.

“What’s wrong? We’ve been closer than this,” Sylus taunted with a wide grin, his breath warm against your ear as he pressed his body against yours. “What’s making you so nervous?”

If you knew anything about Sylus, it was that he took pleasure in seeing you squirm in his hold. You glared daggers at him. “I hate you.”

“How lovely.”

“You’re infuriating,” you spat, devoid of any amusement.

He barked a satisfied bout of laugh once again, before releasing your chin. However, to your surprise, that very same hand groped your chest roughly—

“Then perhaps...” he hummed, a wicked glint in his red eyes, whispering to you with sultry voice right before he pulled you into him and devour your lips in heat: “You can help to fix me, sweetie.”

His kisses were hot as his tongue and hands made his mark on your body. Pressed against his bare skin, you gripped his strong, broad shoulders as he lifted your legs to his waist.

As always, he managed to dissolve all your lingering thoughts with lust. You just never knew one day you would finally reach the last straw though.

. . .

"Are you going out again tonight?" you muttered, tracing your fingers along his abs as you lay in his arms, still a bit giddy after your passionate session.

"No, I'm sleepy," he replied quickly, his voice low as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep already, kitten."

"I can't sleep."

"Poor you. I can though."

You quirked a frown at him. "You're so annoying these days."

"Oh?" Sylus cracked his eyes open, a smirk on his lips. "If you find me so disagreeable, you can always make me obey you, no?"

Your speech manipulation could make people do your bidding and it was a pretty useful talent. Apart from the first day you met Sylus three years ago in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you had never tried using it on him again.

"I won't, you idiot." You sighed and turned away, your back facing him. The idea of bending him to your will somehow didn't sit right with you. It was against your conscience now.

"Why are you facing away? It's freezing," he grumbled almost in a petulant voice. You nearly rolled your eyes, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.

"Why are you hugging me? We’re not usually this touchy after sex."

"I'm telling you, I'm cold, and you're my heat pillow."

"You're so damn insufferable..."

Despite your sharp retort, a smile found its way to your face. Moments like this were rare, and when he was the one seeking you, you couldn't help these butterflies in your stomach. Still...

You two are not in love, dammit. Sometimes it confused you a great deal. What is love anyway?

“Caw, caw, caw!”

“Mephisto, shush.”

Sylus’ robotic pet crow had surprisingly taken a liking to you shortly after you began living in the base. He obeyed your commands just as he did with his owner. The same couldn’t be said for Miss Hunter though, as Mephisto seemed to have a strong dislike for her.

You were idling at the living room with the crow when you realized how close it was to dawn.

“Luke, Kieran,” you called to the twins, who were bickering over a crate of oranges, frowning. “Where did Sylus go?”

Both stopped and looked at you, and Kieran blurted out, “Boss? Oh, he went out with Miss Hunter!”

You supposed you shouldn’t be surprised, but you were nonetheless. “And he still hasn’t come back?”

“Ah, yeah... but I think they just went on a short errand. He’s probably back or already on his way?” Luke mused, and you clicked your tongue.

It irritated you, it gnawed at you—how Sylus had been spending so much time with that hunter these days. He was trying to make her resonate with him, but still, the way you saw it, he was going through his playbook—

Just as he had done when he pursued you.

Calling her “kitten”, “sweetie”... everything he did with her seemed like a replay of the first year you spent in this place.

Deep down, perhaps you had hoped that, in some way, Sylus would see you as you saw him. Love might be out of reach in your bleak existences, but you at least wished he would consider you an irreplaceable presence.

You were petty, and you knew it.

“Mephisto,” you whispered to the cooing crow as it turned to you pliantly. “Go find and bother her, okay? Don’t let her out of your sight,” you added, letting the bird fly away on your command.

Deciding to rest in his room, you left the living room with a sense of exhaustion. You had stayed up for Sylus on a whim, as he had promised to share his plans for the upcoming auction soon. However, sleeping at dawn was giving you frequent headaches, and the habit was wearing on you.

You took a bath and then headed to his bedroom, and you would have never guessed what scene you'd walk into—

Sylus, in his bathrobe, and that girl… nestled against his chest on his bed. The very same bed where you two made out just the other night.

“Y/N?” Sylus looked at you over the girl’s shoulder, and you were frozen on the spot, feeling an indescribable rush of emotions washing over you.

In the next moment, the hunter girl scrambled away from him in panic, her face flushed with shame. “I-it’s not what it looks like! I swear! Sylus— I was just trying to find his brooch and—!”

In that instant, something inside you turned ice-cold. Her frantic explanations—none of it registered to you. The fact that he let her into his bed was enough for you.

You weren’t sure if Sylus noticed, but your eyes darkened, your fists clenched, and a storm raged within your chest.

“Sorry for intruding,” you said frostily, cutting her off and casting a contemptuous glance at both of them before turning on your heel and slamming the door shut.

It was no use, you finally realized. In this twisted relationship you two shared, there could never be anything more than hot sex and flirtations.

Somehow it hurt more deeply than you expected, as though your heart were being scorched. Yet, you couldn’t even find the tears to cry—as you weren't allowed to do so.

Sylus noticed the change in you immediately.

You vanished from the base and returned in the evening, not sparing him even a look and he could tell then that you had come back a different woman.

And it was the part he hated the most. These days, he couldn't read you at all.

"Luke and Kieran, keep an eye on her tonight," he instructed his two underlings as the two of them were getting ready.

"Who? Miss Hunter?" Luke questioned.

"Or boss lady?" Kieran supplied.

Both of them liked you as well. Unlike him, you’d spend your free time indulging their nonsense, and over time, they even gave you that friendly moniker.

They didn't really know the nature of your physical relationship though. Or at least, didn't really know fully.

"The latter," Sylus gruffly replied, and then he went to the hunter girl to prepare her as well.

He had a justified explanation. If you had asked him, he would tell you nothing had happened. Your ire was better than silence, definitely a hundred times better than this.

But why didn't you come to him?

And why does he want you to come and demand him for an explanation?

However, tonight was the auction for the Aether Core. He had to finish this first before he could get a word with you later.

At least that was what Sylus had thought... until he saw you at the auction venue.

You were stunning in that black cocktail dress. He didn’t know when you had your hair done, but you looked as if you had spent the entire day preparing for this occasion despite having barely two hours after coming back. You were definitely a head-turner, drawing the attention of many vermin as you navigated the ballroom with grace and everlasting smile.

And it grated at him. Severely. Sylus's eyes were locked on each lowlife hell-bent on taking his life and desperate to get into your pants, knowing he would end them all tonight.

...and as if it wasn't enough, he then saw you entertaining one of them with that sort of smile you used to reserve for him.

. . .

"Mm-hm, really?"

"Yes, I've heard they are inside the safe number 209."

You coyly smirked, looking the man with mask in front of you, whom you had led to a deserted hallway, who had been complying and smiling at each and every question of yours.

"Thank you then." You flashed him your best smile, about to go back to the main hall.

"And uh, miss," he suddenly turned to you in a flurry. "I believe I haven't gotten your name—"

You chuckled, facing him again. "Oh, you want to know my name?"

"Very much so!"

This was like bread and butter to you. You effortlessly wrapped an arm around the man's neck, standing on your tiptoes, and whispered in his ear:

"Halt."

He went rigid the moment the command left your lips, and you could feel his panic rising as you pulled away.

"W-what happened—!?" he thrashed against the invisible hold manifested by your Evol in pure panic, to no avail, whereas you regarded at him with a cold smile.

"What a shame. I planned to let you be, but then you gave me the perfect opportunity." You maintained your eerie smile as you pulled out a thin, needle-like blade from the hem of your dress. "You have been a great help. Thank you."

With that, you slit his throat, and blood splattered onto the ground in a continuous pool as he jerked, collapsing like a broken statue.

You felt nothing at the sight, but you knew you weren't alone as you felt his presence.

"You started the party without me?" Sylus' deep voice resonated through the hall. "Didn't know you have that much of bloodlust this early, sweetie."

The clench of your heart was still there, even when you had decided to discard all your lingering feelings for this man. Still, you put on the perfect poker face when you met his eyes.

"I want this to be over and done with quick. I'm exhausted already."

Sylus eyed you calmly, yet somehow it felt as if the depths of those red eyes were trying to assess your soul. "Your actions said otherwise. Is flirting with him necessary?"

"You're one to talk, Boss," you scoffed at the last word. "As long as it entertains me, why isn't it?"

Sylus didn't deign you with an answer, and you decided to pour more oil into it.

"Strictly professional, no?" You lifted your chin defiantly. "Last I checked, we were not supposed to meddle in personal affairs—"

You didn't realize it until he did, because the next thing you knew, his right eye suddenly glowed with that terrifying shade of crimson. "You—!"

He has seen it all. In the three years since he took you in, Sylus had never used his Aether Core-infused right eye on you to peek into your mind. The first and only time it had happened was when he restrained you from attacking him on the day you first met.

This was the second time. And now, he knows. Of your petty feelings, of your deepest, truest desire.

At first, Sylus remained silent, but then his eyes narrowed at you, low voice booming through the hall.

"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Y/N."

And after all that he knew, that was the only thing he could come up with?

You felt shame wash over you. You wanted to run from him. This was too much because he most definitely didn’t reciprocate your feelings, did he?

"I don't want to hear it," you resolved, the space around you felt constricting all of a sudden. You walked past him, about to break into a sprint—

Sylus immediately caught a hold of your arm though, sending a glare at you. "You—"

"It ends here," you blurted in heat. "I don't want it anymore. We're through, Sylus."

"Listen to me!"

He snarled at you, and it was the very first time he did so. However, you paid him no mind and pulled out your ace card, staring hard into his eyes. You could feel the start of his black and red mist, but your Evol was faster—

"Move."

His hold on you loosened, and he jerked back several foot away from the impact. You kept your manipulation on him, avoiding his fury-blazed eyes, bolting away before he could catch you.

. . .

The night escalated so much worse than you had imagined. Explosions and a sudden appearance of an Arbiterwings threw the whole auction into chaos.

You were fighting off the sudden wave of wanderers alone, relying solely on your blade since your voice was too hoarse to use your Evol. When one of them struck you and sent you crashing into a wall, you just sat there in a daze.

It was exhausting. Usually, Sylus would be by your side, covering your back at the very least. He wouldn't let a single scratch get to you. His black and red mist of doom would dominate the battlefield, offering you protection while at it.

You loved that bastard. It was so beyond stupid. Why did you have to ruin everything by having these feelings? If your heart was gone, would these feelings go with it too?

You got your answer sooner than you thought.

White-hot pain engulfed you when something impaled you right in the chest. The searing agony was mind-blinding, the only thing you could discern was your own wails.

No, the feelings didn’t go. Even as you teetered on the brink of death, that damned love only evolved into many regrets.

And in your final moments, you could've sworn you felt the exact moment your heart stopped beating.

"Oh my god! Luke! She is here!"

"Kieran...! Is she alive?!"

"So much blood—! Luke, call Boss! Call Boss here!"

"Boss! We found her!"

"What do we do?! Shit! It's right... in her heart..."

"What!? Boss! S-she is...! Oh lord..."

You had a dream, and it was of your first meeting with Sylus.

Three years ago, in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you were a mere scavenger until he found you. You had thought he was a threat much like others in this lawless city, so you unwittingly showcased your Evol before him in defense, until he pinned you down on the hard ground, crimson eyes holding you in place.

"I'm giving you two options: go with me and live, or die here in vain," he had told you then, a smug smile on his face. "I assure you, so long as you're still useful to me, you won't have to worry about food or roof above your head ever again."

What kind of homeless person would refuse that tempting offer?

Since you followed him, Sylus had never been untrue to his word. He made good of his words, idly engaged you in his circle, showered you with gifts, and at one point—

"You're... trying to tempt me, aren't you?" he growled amidst kisses, pinning you on his desk. Apparently, seeing you up close and personal every day in his home had worn down his patience. He was just a man, after all.

You wickedly giggled, even breathless, cradling both sides of his face and admiring those ruby eyes of his. "What if... I am?"

"Then consider me tempted, little kitten," he chuckled, his baritone voice casting a spell over you. "Remember though, curiosity can kill most cats."

Thus began your thrilling relationship, and you knew you would gladly stay with him just to have a taste of that heaven. And you knew too, he wouldn't cast you easily this way.

And of course, so long as you are useful to him, that is.

When you came to, you felt warm, and your position was so comfortable that you were almost lulled back to sleep.

At first, it didn't register to you where you were. The scene before you was so familiar, but you were so lethargic that you were late to recognize it.

"Awake?"

Sylus' bedroom. The realization dawned on you as that deep, low voice questioned you flatly. You jerked instinctively, looking up at him as he came into view, holding a glass of wine.

He was still the same. Even with you out of commission, he would still indulge himself with his wine. Somehow you couldn't really pinpoint what you should feel about it.

However, Sylus then did the thing you didn't expect him to. He went back to his pantry to get a glass of water, and then he came to your side to prop you up.

"Drink," he commanded, positioning the glass on your chapped lips. You complied and did so, feeling relief for your throat. Once you were finished, he gently laid you back on the bed and tucked you in, never once taking his eyes off you.

"How are you feeling?"

"Have been better," you quipped dryly. Then it dawned on you that he had never been this gentle with you before. He was showing care, which confirmed one theory you had about him: Sylus could be considerate when he chose to be.

The very fact that you ended back here didn't really faze you much, because in the end, you belonged to him out of all people. Just one thing that still didn't make sense in your mind: "What did you do?"

His burgundy eyes squared at you. "What?"

"There’s no way I could've survived that," you mumbled, trying to gauge his reaction. "You must’ve done something."

“Ha, when it comes to these things, you’re sharp,” Sylus said with a light scoff, and you frowned.

"Answer me."

"Aether Core," he supplied. "It was now in you, repairing your coronary system."

"You..." you were rendered speechless. "You—what? You infused my heart with a Protocore...?"

Just like the one in his eye, he had implanted you with that dangerous fragment that was from something as horrific as a Wanderer. The very thought made your breath hitch.

"Stay calm," he commanded, his hand found yours when he noticed your horrified expression, squeezing it as if to provide some sort of reassurance. "You'll be fine."

"H-how... why..."

"That was your only chance, or you would’ve been dead." Sylus' tone was harsher now, his jaw set firmly. "I keep telling you not to rush in carelessly, and yet you did. Did you even know how bad your state was when I found you? No, you didn't."

The way he spoke made you feel as though you were being blamed, and overwhelmed with your frustration, you retorted sharply, "No one asked you to save me."

Awkward silence lingered for a good one minute after your jab. You turned away from him, feeling conflicted, because you knew you should be grateful that he did so, because it meant the Aether Core inside you now was the one he had been looking for in that auction.

He gave it up to save you.

Still, it confused you.

“If I died...” you began, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Then it just means I’m no longer useful to you. You always discard things that no longer serve your purpose.”

You turned back to him, meeting his impassive gaze. “So why? Did you pity me after discovering my feelings? Is that why?”

There are many labels in your relationship. Master and servant. Onychinus leader and his right-hand woman. But you were also his lover, even unsaid. Was that fact that did it? Or a mere charity for the weak, you?

Suddenly, Sylus placed his palm over your chest, right where your heartbeat pulsed. You stiffened, bracing for some sort of impact.

But no, it wasn’t anything sensual like he usually did. His hand—large and warm—was a comforting presence, resting on your chest and feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Haven't I told you that I never act out of pity?" Sylus' voice was strained but softer than usual, his deep burgundy eyes holding yours. "Do you really need me to spell it out?"

You didn't dare to look away, for the moment of truth was right in front of you.

"My only regret is not being able to pull you back," he said quietly, his tone somber. "I shouldn't have let you get hurt."

Oh. You blinked, taking in his sincere words, something inside you softening and warming at his words.

You had noticed it too. Despite his roguish exterior, he had always looked after you during your time together. It was just that you hadn’t dared to hope for more.

“The naughty little kitten has managed to worm her way into me, it seems,” he chuckled then, flashing you that cocky smile. “So now, she has to be held responsible for her actions.”

His red gaze narrowed as he added. “Moreover, since I have saved your life— you owe it to me not to throw it away so easily. So you can’t rush into danger carelessly again, you hear?”

Those playful remarks were enough to dispel your doubts and insecurities. They answered everything you had been questioning, and knowing it, finally you let out a relieved sigh and exasperated snort. “You shameless bastard...”

And when he leaned in to place a fleeting, innocent kiss on your forehead, you realized that, in his own way, he saw you just as you saw him, even if only a little.

Sylus settled into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his arm. Tonight, there were no passionate kisses, no steamy foreplay, or dirty talks— just you being alive and well in his embrace.

“How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks, woman. Luke and Kieran keep mourning you everyday.”

“Three weeks?! How did you manage without me for that long?”

Sylus glanced at you, a contented smile on his face as he held you close. “It’s been horrid.”

Neither of you would be caught dead saying “I love you”, and yet, regardless, you knew that right this moment meant so much more.

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

part one

warnings: depictions of blood and injury, standard gotham violence, jason doesn't know how to have feelings, reader is angry, threats against readers life, implied concern of sexual assault

It might be a matter of deficiency in self-preservation skills, how the sound of your window sliding open does nothing to phase you. You don’t know if that’s your fault or his.

“How’s it goin’ down there?” You mumble, not sitting up from your position on the couch.

He pushes the window shut in his wake, huffing. “I am up here for a reason,” he says factually.

You crane your head back just in time to see him tug the red helmet off his head, setting it down on your side table. He has on his under-mask that covers the lower half of his face. You don’t like that one.

He glances around your apartment as he approaches with slow steps. “Why are all the lights off?”

“Forgot to turn ‘em on,” you tell him simply.

He frowns at you, confusion evident.

You pay him no mind though, taking an exaggerated breath and pushing yourself up off the couch before trotting over to the kitchen. You open the fridge and scrummage for a water bottle. Jason thinks it’s odd how long it takes you to find one in your own fridge. 

Once it's (eventually) in your hands, you chug down several gulps and toss the half empty bottle towards the counter where it lands with a sloppy thump and rolls.

When you return, he’s leant against the armrest of your chair, watching you. You stop in the middle of the room, a contemplating stare on the floor. He tilts his head at you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking so hard about.

You take a deep breath before plopping down to lay on the carpet all in one go. 

He peers down at you, barely trying to hide his amusement. “You’re drunk.”

You shake your head, “I’m not sober.”

“That’s—yeah.” He stands all the way, coming to lay down on the floor next to you, using significantly more coordination than you had.

He lays in between you and the couch, though it doesn’t seem you’d left him much room. If he minds, it doesn’t show. “What’d you do?”

“I jus’ went out with my friend,” you tell him, closing your eyes. “She moves pretty fast..”

It occurs to him that you might be laying on the ground because you got nauseous. He turns to look at you, scanning you over. “You good?”

“I feel great,” you keen. “I feel…swooshy.”

He gives you a bemused look. “Dizzy?”

You shake your head with a great deal of consideration on your face, “No, not even dizzy, just…swoosh.” You throw out a hand with a theatrical flick.

“Mhm.”

You pucker your lips to the side. “You come here a lot,” you comment, clearly working up to some greater observation.

“You’re in my neighborhood,” he shrugs. 

Your head tilts, “You live here?”

He pauses before correcting himself, “My territory.”

You hum, “Still. There has to be other people around here you know. ‘Specially if you’re passing out on balconies on the reg.”

He frowns, “I try not to make a habit out of it.”

You continue on, “Why do you always go to my apartment? There’s—”

“I don’t always come to your apartment—”

You deadpan, “You’re here like three nights a week. And I don’t even help you that much anymore, you’ve used up my whole first aid kit.”

You can literally feel the eyeroll like you have a sixth sense for it. “That thing wasn’t exactly impressive to start with..”

“Did enough for you, didn’t it? Anyways, my point is: I think you like me,” you say with a nod.

That has him going absolutely rigid, “What?”

“I’ve heard you’re an asshole.”

“What?”

You nod, “Like, people that run into you. They say you’re kind of a dick. You help ‘em ‘n everything, but also while being a dick. Sometimes.”

“Okay...”

“But you’re nice to me. Sort of,” you squint. “I think you like me.”

He hasn’t felt this straggled in a conversation in a while. “I—well I’m not here because you’re a world-class medic.”

You scoff, “There’s no world-class medics..” But then your tone switches up, into something lighter. “We’re friends aren’t we? I think we’re friends.” 

He shakes his head, staring up blankly. “Sure, we’re friends.”

“We’re friends and you like me,” you reiterate.

He really wishes you’d stop saying that. “Okay.”

“I like you too. Even though you’re kinda sketchy.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

You hum into the silence, looking up at the ceiling. “J…James, Jack, John…”

He smiles, gaze dancing across the egg-whitened popcorn texture of the ceiling. “I’m not going to tell you.”

You ignore him, “Jake, Jaden, Jason, Josh, Joe, Jesse…”

You’re about three shots too drunk to notice the way he briefly stiffens. 

“Juuhhh…” you lull your head to the side, the letter fading out slowly as you look into his eyes. If you focus, you think you can make out a few of those little specks of green again.

He seems to already be running his own study on your irises, his eyes now softer than you can remember seeing them before. 

His next words are whispered, the sounds barely escaping. “You’re pretty.”

What?

“What?”

“What?” He seems taken aback by his own words, like he also wasn’t expecting them to climb out of his mouth.

You can literally feel sobriety seeping back into your blood. “I’m…pretty?”

He blinks a few times, apparently trying hard to decide on what position he’s going to take here. “I—well…yeah.”

You blink once, relaxing. “I think…I think you’re pretty too.”

“What?”

“We can’t do this again.”

He breaks eye contact, looking almost dejected.

You turn your head down to where his hand thrums against the carpet. “I mean, I know I haven’t seen your whole face in one go, but I see the top half now and the bottom before, so I…maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.” You reset with a shallow breath, “I don’t know what your whole face looks like.”

“That was,” he blinks, eyebrows raised. “Fascinating.”

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You close your eyes again, though this time you remain facing him.

He feels a slight pang of guilt for the way he continues to ogle at you, eyes tracing over every detail of your face. But that ounce of guilt does nothing to outweigh the reward of gazing upon you. He didn’t mean to say it but he definitely meant it: you’re really fucking pretty.

Your eyelashes flutter for a moment before stilling, a display of peace washing over your features. It’s when your breathing steadies over and your face relaxes completely is when he starts to feel like a creep. It takes a lot of strength for him to force his eyes shut, depriving himself of the view.

And he doesn’t do it on purpose, but after a few moments his inhales and exhales take to the same rhythm of yours. The thin layer of the rug isn’t doing much to protect his back from the hardwood below and he’s pretty confident later he’ll curse himself for lying like this for so long. 

But as he lays, he doesn’t find himself focused on the dark red-gray of his eyelids like usual, so much as the warmth from the proximity of your bodies. He’s usually so concentrated on whatever the hell is going on in his head and it prevents him from really truly resting, but now, the only thing taking up his attention is physical sensations.

He feels this warmth in his heart that if he didn’t know any better, he’d call burning. His hands feel numb and he can distinctly feel the beat of his own heart in his chest, thrumming away.

He presses his lips to your forehead with a feather light touch, slow to pull away. He doesn’t make it all the way back to his original position before his movement lulls and his body relaxes again, joining you gladly in unconsciousness.

Gotham City has a particular gift for inconveniencing you at the worst possible moment and doing it multiple times a week.

Tonight's round of problems resulted in an entire city district getting shut down, the district which is regrettably right between your job and your apartment.

So on top of having to hole up into your work for two hours longer than you were supposed to, it took you an extra 45 minutes getting home while trying to maneuver around every other person in the same situation. And just to cement the quality of this night, the door to your apartment building slams nice and hard against your side and the light in the hallway is out.

You groan when you fail to get your key the lock the right way for the third time, lodging it in a final time and shoving the door open. You flick on the kitchen light and dump your bag onto the counter, kicking the door shut behind you.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed, as you lean your head back against the wall. The second you crack your eyes open again, a pile of red mass on the floor behind your couch catches your attention and startles some energy right back into your chest.

“Oh, shit,” you scurry over towards the window, crumbling down onto your knees in front of him. Your eyes dart across the red helmet, trying to makeout any signs of consciousness. “Hood?” 

There’s no response from him, no movement. You tug his helmet off, finding him eyes-closed with blood running down the side of his head. You push a hand down on his chest armor, shaking him. “J? J!”

His eyes flutter open slowly under his domino mask, adjusting to the light. With the disorientation on his face he looks younger, more his age. His hair is tousled up and you can make out some distinct curls in it when it's undone like this. 

He grimaces, gloved hand coming up to his head. He looks wearily at the blood on his fingers, before plopping his hand back down and blinking up at you. “Hey..”

You sit back on your heels with a sigh, “What the fuck?”

He makes a strained effort to sit up on his own so you try to heave him up by his forearm. As he comes up all the way you glance behind his back at a bag crumpled discarded on the floor. You can barely see some sort of fabric poking out the top. “What is that?”

“Huh?” He throws back a tired glance, “Oh. They're..curtains.”

“Explain.”

He looks at you blankly, “You don’t have any curtains.”

You blink. “Explain.”

“It’s dangerous for people to just be able to look in and see you. So. Curtains.” For a guy who reads Dostoevsky, he’s not much of a wordsmith. Though that could be the concussion. 

You reach around him and pull some of the fabric out of the bag, inspecting the linen. They match the theme of your living room.

You set it back down, blinking. “Thanks.”

He only gives a half-hearted shrug.

You look back at him, “How bad is the…?” You gesture to the side of your head.

He feels at the blood again, “It’s mostly just a cut. Shoulda stopped bleeding by now.”

You nod, “I’ll, uh—I’ll clean it up.”

He looks at you, shaking his head. “You don’t need to. Your kit’s almost empty anyways.”

“I restocked it,” you tell him, rising to stand. He lets you go retrieve your aid box without protest, listening blankly to the faucet run in the bathroom while you’re gone.

You return momentarily, damp rag in one hand, kit in the other. “Here, sit on the couch,” you tell him, nodding him up. 

He lugs himself up off the hardwood and onto the cushion with a groan. You position yourself on the cushion next to him, leaning over to inspect the cut. You brush through his hair as gently as you can, though you have to suspect he wouldn’t have minded either way—if only based on the pain threshold you know him to have.

As much as you are completely in his space, you’re having trouble getting all the access you need to fix him up right. You turn and adjust your angle this way and that but none of it works. 

You huff, sitting back. “I can’t..”

He nods his permission at you without delay, and you shift yourself over to sit fully on his lap, straddling him on the sofa. You put your focus into cleaning his wound, but you have to notice how deep he’s breathing and how he’s seemingly trying very hard to avoid eye contact. You’re sure your own breath is uneven and telling, and frankly you’re kind of hoping he has a concussion just so he might not notice it.

An unexpected sting has him flinching and grabbing your hips on instinct, a certain heaviness lingering in the air after contact. His hand tenses and he’s about to remove them from you completely when you manage to catch his gaze, and the few moments of silent eye contact are enough to convince him to stay. He forces his hands to relax against your waist, his fix on your face wavering before fizzling away completely.

You go back to dabbing at the blood and it’s clear that his thoughts get the better of him quickly. “You should move.”

“But then where would you go?”

He makes a rumbling noise from the back of his throat at that, saying nothing more.

You continue to wipe away at the blood until you can’t see it anymore, beyond the slice of the cut. You misjudge your own spatial awareness as you pull back from him, and the tips of your noses graze. Though the contact surprises you, you don’t move away from it. You become very acutely aware of his touch on your waist, how warm it feels atop your shirt. 

His head leans forward just barely before stopping. He retreats slightly and his body ultimately decides to come closer. He doesn’t stop until his lips, slightly parted, skim across yours.

Your breath catches as he looms nearer, lips touching against yours softly. He tests that pressure out for a moment, before moving to kissing you with more intent. You kiss him back, and though there’s an increasing resolve on both of your parts, the connection itself remains gentle, reposeful.

The last slight movement of his lips gradually slips away as he rests his forehead against yours.

A long beat passes before he’s tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you up to stand. You aren’t given the time to process the shift as he’s moving straight past you, head down. He pauses only when he gets to the window, back turned to you.

“Sorry—I’m…” his shoulders drop, “Sorry.” 

He climbs out and scales the fire escape in total silence until he’s gone completely.

You stand frozen in position, staring at the window with incredulity burning across your face.

What the fuck?

Two weeks pass of voided midnight visits. 

You’re not sure what to make of that. He kissed you, not the other way around. You couldn’t possibly have done something to upset him or throw him off since he’s the only one who did anything. All in all, it’s a little disappointing.

There had been tension there and it wasn’t shocking for you to learn that he wanted to kiss you. It was a bit of a surprise for him to actually do it, though not a bad one. But you were thrown for a grand fucking loop when he immediately bailed out.

Maybe you can’t read him as well as you think because you’d expected him to at least say something about it. It was a borderline given that he would come back and there would be a bonus surplus of tension but then there would be a resolution. Because he wouldn’t kiss you and then never come back. Nobody would do that, it doesn’t make sense.

It’s a little more than embarrassing to admit that you’ve been purposefully staying home in the hope that he’ll drop in. After fifteen nights of disappointment, you decided to put your focus elsewhere.

You’d asked a friend of yours to go out with you tonight, and never one to decline a night out, she agreed happily. 

The bell above the door jingles as you crack it open, peaking your head in. You find Chloe quickly, stood behind the bar with bottles in hand.

“Hey gorgeous,” she smiles at you, waving you in.

You step in, air conditioning hitting you hard. The sparkles on her cocktail dress catch your eye as she turns this way and that, trying to find the right spot for the whiskey. 

Chloe hums to herself as she searches, honestly taking a bit longer than she should. “You been cool?”

You nod, “Yeah, just—you know…” She doesn’t. Your affiliation with the Red Hood is something you’ve kept to yourself, though you don’t know why. It would be safer, more responsible to let someone else know about these drop-ins, but something about it feels personal. A strange feeling to tack onto it, you think. A regrettable one, at least. 

You take a deep breath, “You’ve been busy. Jessie call out again?”

She laughs dryly, “Oh yeah, of course. But it's fine, I love staying over an hour after close.” She sighs, “I’m almost done anyway.”

You circle around the bar, looking over the several yet-to-be-sorted bottles. “You need help?”

“No, there’s—” she cuts herself off as she looks over at the front door, face dropping. “Oh, shit. Duck.”

“Wha—” she yanks you down to the floor to crouch awkwardly behind the counter.

You hear the bell ring as the door swings open, followed by several pairs of footsteps and low voices.

“—Christ, if she forgets to lock the door one more fucking time I’m gonna kill her.”

You look at Chloe through furrowed eyebrows, her grip on you still tight. She shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips.

A second man mutters something you can’t make out.

The first voice continues, “Go around back and lug the crates in, we gotta start packing that shit.” 

Another voice, “The crates? They’re not here..”

There’s a heavy beat before the first voice speaks, “What the fuck do you mean they’re not here? She needs them now.”

“Well…the first shipments will be in later this week. The next batch’ll take until the end of the month, probably.”

A sigh, “Dumbass…”

The first voice huffs, “The end of the month? Are you fucking kidding me? I told you to get that shit ready weeks ago and you’ve got it coming in at the end of the month?” 

“I’ll…I’ll see what I can do to get it sooner.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he grumbles. “Motherfucker. I need a drink. Get a bottle of something.”

One of the men rounds the counter, tracks falling short at the sight of you and Chloe huddled against the counter.

“What the fuck?”

You and Chloe are wide-eyed and frozen as he sneers down at you. Still, he looks like he’s trying to be tougher than he is, compensating for size that he does not have, with an attitude that doesn’t match up with the way he sped around the counter to get the other man a drink.

Another guy comes around and you quickly recognize him as the man in charge. He frowns at Chloe, sighing, “You’re not supposed to be here still, Chloe.”

She shifts her weight, “I was just…finishing inventory…”

The bossman’s eyes move to you, laced with nothing but inconvenience. “Oh and you brought a friend. Great.” 

“Mr. Murray, we were just ab—”

He’s quick to cut her off with a hand, “Chloe. Stop talking.”

Her face falls flat and her words die off without hesitation.

“Get up.”

She’s pushing herself off the ground instantly while you’re still on the floor catching up with what the hell’s going on. As she moves out from behind the bar, you scurry to follow her. Your arm bumps against hers as you fiddle with the seams at the bottom of your outfit.

You dressed to go out with your friend on a Friday night, not to meet three mobsters in a closed bar with no witnesses. That’s to say, you’re feeling a little exposed.

You stand in the center of the bar, the three men looking various degrees of annoyed looks across their faces. Though the oldest looking of the bunch has something else in his eyes as he looks you up and down, in no rush to hide his engrossment in your bare legs.

“How old are you, honey?” Even without the blatant ogling, that’s never a good question to hear from a fifty year old man.

Your eyes avert to the floor, lips pursing. 

“Hey, don’t be rude. I asked you a question.” He nudges your chin up a bit rougher than necessary, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

Somehow, you feel like there’s no answer here that would help you. 

The man at the bar serves as an unexpected saving grace of sorts, muttering, “We don’t have time for this.”

Your pursuer shakes his head, looking you over in a way that makes you feel very small. “I think we got plenty of time.”

“I disagree.”

All heads whip to the doorway where the Red Hood leans against the frame, checking his phone. A never invited but always welcome addition to the party. At least for you.

The man in front of you instantly steps back, putting some distance between the two of you. Hands across the room instinctively fly to holsters only to begrudgingly relax at their sides, probably figuring drawing on Red Hood isn’t in their best interest. Though your focus lies on the bell above his head that didn’t make a peep whenever he came in.

Hood shuts his phone off and puts it away with a quiet sigh before glancing up at the tension-filled room. He literally double takes when his helmet scans past you. You somehow feel more in trouble now than you did two minutes ago. 

“Hood..” the bossman says measuredly. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you for a second longer before tearing his gaze away. “Just thought I’d check up on you, Murray. Make sure you’re not causing trouble in light of our agreement.” He makes a point of looking back at you and Chloe at that last part before looking to Murray expectantly.

He waves that off easily, “This is nothing. Just two late-shift employees.”

Hood takes a piqued breath. “You picked a bad time to lie to me,” he says flatly.

Murray shakes his head, “Look, we’re just cleaning up a mess. No harm.”

“Really?”

“This clean up benefits you too, they heard too much. The one girl—Chloe, get out. She’s fine, she’s not talking.”

Chloe wastes no time exiting hastily. Bye Chloe.

He continues, “We only need to kill one of them.” He says it like this is an ideal compromise. You’re feeling differently.

Hood huffs, pulling out a gun from his holster. “I’m thinking it’s implied that killing innocent people is a form of causing trouble. Which is in direct violation of our agreement.” He cocks the gun, pointing it at Murray’s head.

Murray steps back dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Hey, an alliance is an alliance!”

Hood wavers his head to the side, “Alliance is a strong word. Temporary tolerance maybe…”

The short man pipes up, “Okay, calm down, calm down. Nobody needs to get killed. We can cooperate.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hood quips, lowering his gun.

The older one shakes his head, “We don’t have anything on her, she’ll talk.”

The short man demurs, “We don’t know that—”

“She saw too much, we can’t have her walking around with that information,” Murray says, moving towards you. 

Hood puts his hands up like some kind of mediator, “Nobody’s killing anybody.”

Murray scoffs, “You were gonna kill me!”

Hood's hands drop as he stands in full, “And I still might!”

Boldly, Murray steps up to him.

But Hood looks down at him, easily a full head taller than him and at least twice his muscle mass. “Let's weigh out your odds here, Murray. Is that a fight you’re winning?”

The look on Murray’s face tells you it’s not and he struggles to maintain this chest to chest confrontation.

It only takes him a moment of wavering to decide to back off, though he sure as hell doesn’t look happy about it. 

Hood pushes past him, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him. 

Murray splutters, watching you go. “You can’t—I-I know people.”

“I am people,” Hood grumbles, steering you towards the door.

Though you can be sure they have them, no one voices any objections aa he pulls you outside.

His stride doesn’t even falter as he marches you down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment. Aside from the sound of the breeze wisping past your ears, it’s silent between you.

After two blocks you get the strong impression that this muted exchange of energy is just going to keep on, so you force yourself to find something to rattle off about. “That uh, that seems like something he’s gonna be mad about.”

He huffs, “Yeah, well he can get over it or die so I guess it’s a personal choice.”

You frown at his tone, “What’s your problem?”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say as his head snaps in your direction. “Why the hell are you out here?”

His sharp attitude has you stumbling a bit. “Why are you out here? You have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” he grumbles. “And I just saved your life so maybe complaining about it isn’t your best move right now.”

You try to stop and face him but he doesn’t let you, keeping you moving along with him. “That’s what we’re doing? Really?” 

Are these about the social skills that you had expected from him based on your first meeting? Yeah. But that first meeting was months ago. He’s proven again and again that he has half a brain and the ability to read a room so you’re really not fucking sure what the hell his problem is. He won’t acknowledge that he kissed you and all but jumped out your living room window, but he will snap at you for asking about his concussion that there’s no way he doesn’t have. Especially if he’s acting like this. 

He ignores your comment, blatantly at that. “Did they say anything about a drug shipment?”

This is what we’re talking about? Sure. Fine. At least you’re talking. 

You open your mouth briefly before closing it again, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.”

He tries again, “What about Nocturna? Did you hear that name?”

“I…I don’t know.” You weren’t exactly taking notes behind the bar counter. 

His head drops down heavily, “Okay, I think I’m seeing a trend for how this conversation’s gonna go...”

You gawk at him, astonished that he thinks it’s you who’s handling this discussion poorly. “You cannot be serious right now.”

He sighs, slowing as you approach the steps to your building, “Just—why’d they let Chloe go?”

You blink a few times, “I mean, she has a drug problem…” You guess that might be where she’s getting them from…

He nods solemnly, “Okay.”

You huff, turning to walk up the steps, shoulders heavy. You hope he’ll come up with you and maybe, just maybe, address the elephant in the room. 

“Are you—” you turn around to face him again, met with nothing but vacant air. 

A deep, tense, breath from you before calling out, “Really?”

One month. One month. And he decides to show up tonight like it’s no time lost. But there was some fucking time lost.

Count ‘em up, that’s one period, two paychecks, three grocery trips, four laundry days, and thirteen showers. And that stupid fucking vigilante ransacked your head during every single one.

You went through the five stages of grief for this bizarre, undefinable relationship and then discovered about six more while you were at it. 

So when you walk out from the bathroom, you’re a little pissed to see him sitting there on your living room floor, helping himself to a glass of water. 

Maybe it’s his domino mask that gives his expression the illusion of neutrality. Or maybe he really has no idea how insane it is that he would occupy your apartment like this after skipping out on you for an entire lunar cycle.

He leans against your armchair, inspecting a scratch on his lower arm. You enter silently, watching him the whole time as you make your way over to the far end of the couch.

He doesn’t look up at you though, not until after a minute or two of silence. 

“You got any bandages left?” he asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder. 

You stare at him incredulously. 

After ten seconds with no response from you, he turns around fully, frowning. “What?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I—” he squints, eyes flickering across your face. “No?”

You continue to gawk at him, not trying for any words.

He stares back, eyes wide. “I don’t know what you want me to say...”

You tear your gaze from him, preferring to stare at the wall. “You know what, I think I know what your problem is.”

He gives a laugh with little life to it. “I only have one?”

You bite down on your lip, “You only have one I’m ready to kill you over.”

He sits with that for a minute. A long minute, before asking softly, “What is it?”

You shake your head, glaring at an unoccupied nail in the wall. “That you’re an idiot,” you mutter. You start to walk away before turning around again after a few steps. “Where the hell have you been?”

He blinks, “Uh, there’s just been a lot of—”

“Bullshit.”

He’s about to argue his point, but quickly decides to concede, “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, sitting back. “I…wasn’t prepared for this conversation,” he says carefully.

You scoff with a nod, “Yeah, neither was I, but it’s happening. I m—what did you think was going to happen here? I—you kissed me, you kissed me!”

“No I—” he huffs, “I shouldn’t have done that, okay?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He sighs, throwing his hands up at his sides. “What do you want me to say?”

You shrug without genuinity, “Anything that could possibly rationalize that sequence of decisions. You kiss me, run away, ghost me for a fucking month, and then show up again like nothing happened.”

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”

“I’m not asking you to be sorry, I’m asking you to pick a fucking lane and stick to it!”

He falls silent at that, eyes on the floor. It’s quiet for long enough that you start to think he’ll accept the silence as his cue to leave. You’re not sure if you want him to or not.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed. “I need you to start being straight with me. Now.”

He doesn’t look up, taking his time to find his words. “I am sorry,” he tells you. “I…I’m not good at this. I’m not good with words so I shouldn’t have fucking done it.”

Honestly you weren’t expecting him to actually come up with a reason, so you’re not prepared to weigh out whether or not it’s a good one.

“I like you...a lot. And I didn’t know—I don’t know—what to do about it so I kissed you and I didn’t think it through, and…I guess I panicked.”

That’s more than enough for you to warrant looking back over at him. It doesn’t take long for your gaze to start shifting around awkwardly while you scratch at your neck. “I would’ve taken you for more of a fight over flight kinda guy.”

He nods to himself. “Jus’ depends..” he says quietly.

And then it seems neither of you have anything else to say. You’ve run out of angry words to spit and he’s run out of apologies and excuses. But neither of you feel like you’re done.

The quiet lingers on for a painful amount of time. Your annoyance dissipates into something else, something more uncomfortable, but you couldn’t find a name for it. It’s got your thoughts going faster though and your chest feeling more hollow. Maybe not hollow…maybe just softer. 

He cuts through your thoughts before you can, “Are you mad that I kissed you?”

You shake your head, “No. I’m mad about what happened after.” You’re just mad about what happened after. Should’ve said just.

He thinks about that for a moment. 

“I can be honest with you,” he tells you. The way he says it, it’s somewhere between a peace offering and an assurance to himself.

You look at him again. He reads oddly vulnerable for a man his size with his reputation. You believe him. 

He goes on, “I trust you, you know? I want you to trust me too, if you can.”

You blink a few times, processing. “I…I don’t know anything about you.”

He nods, an anxious aura radiating around him. He leaves you hanging for longer than a few moments, getting you convinced that the conversation is just going to end there.

It doesn’t though, and after a few minutes, he sits up and reaches up to his mask.

It has you sitting up too, like he just pulled out a gun. Your hands fly up instinctually, as though this is completely uncalled for, as if he’s crazy for doing it.

He pauses his movements for a moment, making eye contact with you. His eyes reaffirm his words. He trusts you and he wants you to trust him.

You allow your hands to relax onto your lap and he continues on, taking his mask off.

You’re not revealed to much more of his face than you’d already seen before, but entirely in view like this, he’s a sight. You try not to stare but there’s little reward to removing him from your sight whereas the alternative…

All together like this you can see how his features balance his face out so nicely and make for a warm countenance, if not rough.

He takes a deep breath, setting his mask to the side. “My name is J…” he says with assurance. “Todd,” he tacks on.

You don’t mean to, really, but you’re sure the frown on your face is evident as puzzle pieces start forming and connecting in your mind. 

J…Todd…J…Jay…Todd…Jason…Todd…

Your mouth hangs open, “You’re Jason Todd. You’re de—” Well a couple things are starting to add up. “How are you…how are you not—”

He waves that away, tiredly. “It's a long story. Not particularly happy, either.”

Autopsy scar. Fuck. 

“I mean, I’ll…” he hesitates, “I’ll tell you if you want me to.”

He says it, but discomfort is painted across his face. You’re quick to shake your head, “It’s okay.”

He nods, likely relieved.

You stand up from your seat, crossing the room to sit down next to him. You’d half-expected him to tense up, but his body relaxes when you lean back against the chair.

You close your eyes before asking, “Who’s Nocturna?”

“She’s just this woman that’s been causing trouble for us.”

You don’t say anything and he continues on, shaking his head. “She’s more annoying than anything.”

You open your eyes, looking over. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “Just trying to take over the underworld, the usual stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.”

You give a laugh that’s barely more than an exhale, relaxing your body completely..

There’s the slightest lull in activity before he sets his hand down on the floor, right on top of yours. The sounds of your breathing are the only thing that fill the room for a few minutes, save for the occasional car horn.

He glances at the clock on the wall, nearing midnight. “I have to go...” He says reluctantly.

You try not to let the disappointment show through your body language. “Go where?”

He pauses before telling you,  “A cemetery.”

You nod vacantly, “Oh. Just for fun, or…?”

He gives a dry laugh, “Just meeting an associate. They’re a bit dramatic, so.”

“Yeah, I’d say.”

“I’ll come back—I’m going to come back,” he mutters against your hairline.

You don’t respond, but you both know he’s good for his promise.

He looks around your apartment for a second before seemingly getting an idea. He pushes himself up off the ground and heads for your kitchen. You watch as he rips a sticky note off the deck on your fridge and scribbles something down on it. 

He returns to you, kneeling down and pushing the square of paper into your hand. “Here,” he says, looking you in the eye. “If you need anything. Anything.”

You engulf the note in your palm, nodding sincerely. His eyes flicker across your face, like he’s thinking about something. He hesitates for a moment, turning towards you, away from you, then towards you again. He holds the back of your head tenderly before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You look at each other up close for a second with nothing short of starry eyes before he turns away and ducks out the window.

You open up your palm and look down at the paper, at the ten digits scrawled across it.

Huh.

Must be official. 

🧨 reblog or die (this is a threat) 🧨

[onlyswan]

summary: in which for you, jungkook would commit crimes and his mother would peel oranges.

idol!jk x reader | fluff, angst | word count: 9.5k

warnings/content: oc passes out in the shower / jk does something crazy i’m literally insane about this / baby bam cameo 🥺 / stitches >:( / blood draw / mention of speeding / jealous not but rlly jealous oc is pissed owfffff at the nurse who has a crush on jk lmao / jk and his mom loves them to death tho so obv who wins / love is beautiful let’s all cry <3

> in which masterlist!

note: *sitcom sound effect of crowd cheering* I’M BACK 🥰 hope u enjoy the product of my madness during finals season hehehe. and special thanks to my cutieful proofreader rio!! you’re one of my most favorite people i’ve ever met 🥺💕 + my beloveds who came to the rescue when i had medical questions !! i didn’t expect to receive help from soooo many and i’m so freaking grateful i could cri :")

—

“i ordered it the other day. how did it arrive so early?”

jungkook walks back inside the apartment, arms occupied by a stack of boxes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

he arrives at the living room, head tilting to the side in confusion when he realizes that the netflix show he was watching on the television is no longer playing. instead, there is the news channel.

he gasps.

“baby, you’re alive!”

your swollen eyes flicker up to him.

you’re lying on the sofa with your legs lazily dangling on the edge. there’s a toothbrush in your mouth, foam of bubbles between your lips, but your arm barely exerts the energy to make it do its job.

“you were asleep from afternoon to morning. do you know that? you’ve never done that before!” he exclaims, carelessly tossing the boxes on the floor. “i was getting scared!”

you only hum to acknowledge his existence, pushing yourself up from the sofa and unknowingly dodging the hug your boyfriend wanted to greet you with.

he ends up collapsing face first on the empty space you left, hurt and offended.

the bathroom door opens and closes.

he flips over, whining. “yah, we didn’t see each other for a day. didn’t you miss me?!”

still not a single word from you. sleeping that long must not have cured your exhaustion, jungkook surmises. you tend to be glum and cranky when you’re feeling unwell, as is usually the case when you wake up as unrested as before.

he doesn’t always know how to make you feel better, but he always tries anyway.

“our new bedsheets arrived!” he announces from the other side of the bathroom door, making himself loud so that you can hear him despite the shower running. “do you want to unbox them with me?!”

he allows the seconds to pass, but with his hands on his hips, he eventually begins to tap his foot on the floor.

“baby? may i go in?”

he turns the knob, just to be prepared incase the answer is a yes, but it doesn’t turn. a sad pout forms on his face.

huh? why is it locked?

you must genuinely don’t want to be bothered today.

“guess that’s a no.” he mutters to himself before calling out to you. “okay, i’ll wait for you!”

with a crestfallen sigh, he begins to walk back to the living room.

he doesn’t go far, however.

only several steps later, a series of loud crashes is heard from the bathroom and his heart thunders in his chest with a combination of numbing shock and fear.

“____, what was that?! did you fall?!”

he aggressively pounds at the door, extremely desperate this time around. he has no plans on leaving until he knows that you’re safe and sound.

“baby! open this! are you alright…? are you hurt? you’re scaring me. please, answer!”

he pauses, catching his breath as his mind runs a thousand miles per hour.

“____!”

he strikes the door with an open palm one more time, more so to express his frustration that is only growing worse with every tick of the clock. he only ends up hurting himself in the process.

“that’s it! i’m opening the door!”

he frantically whips his head around, racking his brain for the location of the key. there are two copies of it somewhere in the apartment, but in his panicked state, he is unable to pinpoint either of their specific spots. and he can’t fucking afford to waste any more time.

“ah, fuck!” he curses, left with no other choice but to give in to the instinct of breaking down the door with the strength and durability of his body alone.

he would most definitely break his shoulder first before the door.

only after the first try, that much is clear.

and so, with madness inconsiderate of his agony, he resorts to kicking it over and over again.

the repeated loud collisions rattles poor bam from his slumber. not long after, the dog’s barking creates a booming dissonance with his grunts and kicks at the door.

when it finally swings open, the force of his own body sends him stumbling on the bathroom floor, but he doesn’t waste time in bouncing back to his feet.

the twisting of his stomach is instantaneous.

there lies your naked, unconscious figure behind the glass— surrounded by bottles of hair and body products that must have fallen when your hands were searching for something to hold on to.

his voice cracks, breathless.

“baby, no… no, no, no.”

he kneels on the floor, and despite the strong urge to carry you out of there, he tries to calm down. it’s the first rule in every emergency case; professionals reiterate in seminars and news channel segments.

keep calm. keep calm. keep calm.

he won’t be able to forgive himself if he ends up causing more harm than good.

“____, can you hear me?!”

his instinct tells him to inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury, but then his vision becomes too blurry. he curses at the hindrance and forces himself to turn off the showerhead that was left running.

he harshly wipes his face, rushing back to you.

“please, please, please. wake up.” he begs.

he has a feeling that it’s futile. you can’t hear him and he’s wasting his breath. the thing is he doesn’t know what else to do.

“baby…”

he carefully turns your head over, almost relieved because he hasn’t seen blood so far.

almost.

at last, he gets a full view of your face, and he finds blood dripping. this has always been one of his most paralyzing fears— seeing you get hurt. now that it’s become a reality, there’s a part of him that wants to believe this is some kind of twisted dream.

“how- how did this even happen…?” he cries out, his own blood running cold.

for everything that happens after, his body acts on its own. bam is a constant presence in his peripheral, but he is barely in his right mind to acknowledge the presence aside from, “bam, move. daddy might step on you.”

he carries you out of the bathroom, kicking aside the beaten up door. he has made up his mind about bringing you to the hospital, but he can’t bring you like… this.

he lays you down on the bed, all that gentleness switched off in a split second so he can sprint to the walk-in closet. he hastily grabs whatever is on top of your neatly folded stacks of shirts and pants; and then a fresh towel on the way out. the gentleness returns as he pats your face dry, the pure white stained with dark red. he flips the towel and uses the other side to wipe the rest of your body, in a race against time but mindful of treating you like fragile glass.

once that is over, he dresses you in a pair of gray sweatpants, and with some difficulty, an orange t-shirt.

any person with functioning eyes will be able to tell that the shades don’t go together.

if you were conscious, you’d definitely berate him for making you wear this outfit.

but you’re not.

jungkook effortlessly swoops you in his arms— dripping wet hair, his and yours, leaving behind a trail of raindrops from your apartment floor to the cemented parking lot.

—

your body feels like it’s floating.

are you dreaming…?

you must be dreaming.

you hear an uncoordinated symphony of voices, but you can’t comprehend a word. in pursuit of clarity, you force yourself to open your eyes.

the voices grow a little louder. faceless figures hover you; a bright light shines over your face.

your senses must be playing cruel tricks. now it feels like you’re drowning, sinking into the unknown, and your body has succumbed into numbing defeat.

you want to sleep a little more.

you must truly be exhausted. it’s okay.

you’ve fought hard until now. you’ve done enough… has anyone tried in life as much as you did?

just as your eyes flutter shut, you regain sensation of your hand; a soft squeeze and a call of your name.

—

jungkook gently strokes your hair, sighing for the nth time since you got transferred to a private room. he’s relieved that all the scans came back clean so serious head and brain injuries have been ruled out. the doctor also asked him questions and ran some other tests before concluding that electrolyte imbalance caused you to pass out; the culmination of stress and fatigue from work, as well as your strong period, most likely being the main reasons. he didn’t even know about the latter until you stained the white sheets with blood.

it was fucking frightening being in the sidelines as they rushed to check on your vitals and to administer oxygen. even now, it’s unbearable to see you with a needle in your hand and a few stitches above your eyebrow. he already anticipated you not being pleased with having to get stitches specifically either; gasping and sitting up as soon as you heard the word come from his lips post-consciousness. consequently, the dizziness hits you. the doctor wasn’t happy about that.

“this is so annoying. i don’t want a scar.” you whine as you study your face on the camera of jungkook’s phone. “did i have to fall on my prettier side?”

“what are you saying? you’re pretty from any angle.” he interjects. “be careful. the wound might open up.”

you jut out your bottom lip, looking up at him with glassy eyes. the sight instantly tugs at his heartstrings, and he pulls you in for a hug. maybe he’s a little sad that you don’t appear concerned about the fact that you passed out, but god is he relieved to finally hear your voice again.

“ah, i should call the doctor.”

but his face remains buried in your hair.

“they told me to do so.”

“you should-”

“why?!” he abruptly reacts, drawing back. “does anything hurt?”

“chill. you said that they told you to.”

“oh, that’s right.” he sheepishly smiles. he can’t help but to overreact; he hasn’t turned off the alarms in his head. “i’ll go tell the nurse to get her.”

he starts to walk towards the door, but a tug at his shirt holds him back.

you shyly look at him with a scrunch of your nose. “i’m nervous. hug me for five more seconds.”

fuck, he would move heaven and earth to protect you from everything that can cause you harm.

“why would you be nervous? i’m right here.” he scolds you lightheartedly, not hesitating to seize the chance to hug you again. “i love you.”

“i love you more.”

you pull away after five seconds, and he’d be disappointed about you being too true to your words if you didn’t kiss him on the cheek so ardently.

his heart almost jumps out of his chest when you gasp out of nowhere as if you just realized that you left the gas tank open at home. your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“bam!”

oh, right. your child.

“my brother’s house!” he eases your mind.

you breathe out in relief, the heel of your palm pressing against the left side of your chest where your heart lives. “good… i was worried. he was probably more scared because he didn’t understand what was going on. i feel bad.”

you love bam so much; it makes him so happy. you’re so concerned about him even when you’re the one on the hospital bed. you make pretty good parents, huh?

“that’s right. he was worried about you, too. that’s why you need to recover quickly so he won’t be sad!”

—

the doctor kindly asked jungkook to give the two of you some time alone, so he’s been idly sitting at the lobby after buying a bottle of water. he’s pretty much used to visiting the hospital for routine checkups considering the nature of his job, but it always feels strange to be here for the other different purposes of the place.

is there any other building sadder than this?

if you heard him utter this question, he could easily predict what you’d say: but is there any other building with more love?

if he tries hard enough, he could listen to your voice and paint you in his mind.

you see love in every place that you step foot into.

his curious eyes continue to wander around. he spots people carrying flowers, baskets, and containers of food. there’s also a teenage boy in his high school uniform, carrying a teddy bear larger than him.

not that he wants you to stay longer, but if you have to, he writes down a mental note to bring one of your favorite plushies.

he eventually gets tired; considers scrolling on his phone again, but he decides against it when his gaze lands on a little boy sleeping soundly on his mother’s lap. suddenly, he is reminded of his childhood before he moved to seoul.

how simple life can be when you’re innocently sleeping on your mother’s lap, trusting that everything will be alright.

“ah, i miss my mom…” he utters absentmindedly. “i miss my mom so much. i should call her.”

his reminiscing is interrupted when a wheelchair rolls by infront of him. it is leisurely being pushed by an old man who wants to bring his wife outside for some fresh air.

in a parallel universe somewhere, jungkook can imagine them as you and him.

he sits up straight, looking back at the clock on the wall.

how long has it been? he wants to be by your side again.

—

“jungkook!” your face lights up as soon as your boyfriend steps into the room. “what took you so long?”

“i know. sorry, baby. i got a little distracted outside.”

“i’ve been waiting.” you pout. “why? were people bothering you?”

“not at all. don’t worry.”

you pat the empty space beside you. “here.”

“i think the bed is meant for only one person- damn, okay, okay-”

he swiftly gives in upon seeing the hurt on your face, occupying the space you reserved for him. “i love you. don’t be sad.”

you’re aching too much to wait for him to get settled. you wrap your arms around his waist like you’re a magnet attracted to steel, clinging to him for comfort.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know how you feel about being in this situation. overwhelmed? maybe a tiny bit relieved. in the past, it didn’t matter whether you were sick or not. you needed to work or else it was guaranteed that you wouldn’t survive. life is easier now. you have the luxury to use this as a reason to take a break. you have someone who takes care of you as naturally as he breathes.

“how was the doctor?”

“she’s nice… she just asked me about the things i remember before i passed out. then about my work, diet, sleeping schedule… stuff like that.”

you pull away a little, just enough so you can see each other’s face. you squint at him suspiciously. “did you have to get an expensive room?”

he chuckles. “how did you know? they didn’t tell you that, did they?”

“i literally have the perfect view of the fountain from here!” you point at the large window behind you. “i just passed out. i would’ve been fine downstairs.”

“don’t say it like that. it could’ve been so much worse.” he says with knitted eyebrows, palm cupping the back of your head and caressing softly.

he heaves a sigh.

“i was so scared that you injured your head. seriously, i thought i’d go insane if i lost you! i went past the speed limit driving you here!”

the distress he was under is apparent. you can’t help but to be racked with the guilt. you always do this, making him worry himself to death. you don’t usually do it purpose, and that only makes you feel shittier.

“you’re right. i’m sorry.”

“well, i…” he sighs. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t want this either. it’s not your fault.”

you press your lips into a thin line. “it kind of is.”

your lost eyes meet, and a connection is established like it’s a constellation sending a secret message. your heart flutters when he giggles, dimples and starry eyes and crinkled corners.

“stop it. it’s impossible to scold you when you’re so cute and self-aware.”

“then don’t scold me.” you sniffle sadly to kindle pity in him. “i’ve had enough of it from the doctor.”

your brain still works well enough to help you escape from trouble. that’s a good sign, right?

“my poor baby.” he coos, cradling your cheeks.

his hands are warm. you put yours over them; a wordless signal telling him you don’t want him to go away.

“let’s not get hurt again, please. we need to stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so this won’t happen again, alright?”

you nod in obedience. your eyes are fixed on him but you’re not certain if you’re registering what he’s telling you in your pitiful, shaken brain.

“the hospital already did me many favors. if we go back, i might have to build them another fountain as a gift.”

and knowing jungkook, with his golden heart and his black card, jokes become half-meant.

“what do they need that for?!”

he bursts out laughing, yet again, after you chide at him for his ridiculous and unnecessary expenses.

“nothing, i’m just grateful! i was really so scared but i’m relieved now thanks to them. i can’t remember the last time i felt that way.”

“you’re not scared of a lot of things.” you point out.

“that’s right.” he agrees. “only you scare me these days.”

you grimace. “am i scary?”

“you are, sometimes.” he laughs, squishing your cheeks together. “but i mean the things that could hurt you.”

as if on cue, your stomach grumbles and bellows like a monster stuck in an empty cave. your eyes grow twice its size in bewilderment, which then morphs into embarrassment.

“my stomach hurts.” you say quietly.

your nostrils flare as jungkook miserably fails to hold back his laughter. one of his hands leave your face, rubbing your tummy over the thin hospital gown.

“oh no, what are we going to do? where does it hurt? here?” he pouts. “should we go feed you now to make it go away?”

“what is wrong with you?” you slap his shoulder in annoyance. “i’m not a baby!”

“yah, be careful!” he yells, wincing as if he is the one in pain. “be gentle with the one with the iv!”

—

“you know one good thing that came out of this?” you gush out of nowhere.

you’re mixing up the ingredients of your bibimbap bowl with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks.

jungkook noisily drinks the final sips of his banana milk. afterwards, he makes a game out of shooting the box in the trash bin.

“what could that be?” he asks, doubtful.

he sits on the chair beside your bed. you greet him with a delighted grin, licking your thumb stained with gochujang.

“you proved your love. you committed a crime for me.”

he gasps to humor you, body freezing as if he’s currently processing the newly-learned information in his brain.

“oh? you’re right- i did! and you know what? i’d do it again!”

with a mouthful of rice, you shake your head in disagreement furiously. “you’re cute. but that’s the first and last.”

“but how are you sure that it’s the first?” he raises an eyebrow quizically.

silly enough, you envy him for being able to do so.

you hum in thought. “i guess you’ve stolen a few things for me, too.”

“few? you mean a loooot?”

“you’re the one who brings home food and random things.” you roll your eyes. “i never ask you to.”

“you told me you wanted the service bell!”

you feel yourself become flushed with sheepishness. he’s not lying. you’ve always found the object fascinating as a child, so you couldn’t help but to tell him to sneakily take one home after filming a competitive run bts episode.

did you have a silly phase where you and jungkook used it to summon each other just to laugh together about it?

perhaps.

“well, you’re rich. you could’ve bought me one instead.”

“but it was already there.” he reasons with a wide grin, gesturing infront of him. “i wanted to give it to my lover right away.”

his lover?

jungkook has successfully replaced your frown with an enamored smile.

“i made your heart flutter just now, didn’t i?”

a hospital stay has never felt this comfortable— not terrifying. you have stitches on your face and to add to that, this hospital gown feels super unflattering. somehow, your boyfriend’s loving gaze remains steady and you are melting.

“shut up,” you mutter, flustered, handing him the pair of chopsticks. “please eat with me. i can’t finish this on my own.”

—

“why would you let them put the needle in my dominant hand?”

you stomp your feet on the ground as jungkook squeezes some toothpaste onto a newly-bought toothbrush.

“i’m sorry! i was too stressed out so i just pointed! i think i got confused with- with left and right.”

you didn’t realize this while you were eating; that you were unconsciously holding the spoon with your non-dominant hand because the other felt uncomfortable. maybe because it was a simple task, scooping food and bringing it to your mouth. brushing your teeth, on the other hand… can be quite an arm workout.

“eeeee!”

he shows his complete set of teeth, urging you to do the same. you stare at him blankly.

“eeeee!” he repeats with heightened enthusiasm.

left with no other choice— you copy his awkward smile.

“there we go!” he praises you with an over-enthusiastic beam.

he carries on to brush your teeth, gingerly holding your chin to keep you steady as he does his job.

this is the first time jungkook is doing this for you. today is definitely not one of your finest moments. it feels a bit silly to be in this situation, and you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in this position in the first place. you can see that he’s trying his best—unnecessarily focused—and that he loves you, but you just hate giving him a hard time.

with a soft smile, he wipes the bubbles that overflowed past your lips.

“okay, spit.”

you spit out more of the bubbles on the sink. you assume that he’s finished, except he’s making another vowel sound for you to mimic the mouth shape of.

“ahhhh-”

“this is embarrassing!”

“baby, really? this is where you draw the line?” he playfully squeezes your cheeks together. “it’s almost over! ahhhh!”

and you let him do this thing, but not without a glare that is masking the embarrassing truth: you might be enjoying this more than you care to admit.

“see? was that so bad?”

as he tenderly pats your face dry in the aftermath, he says: “i’m sorry. bear with it a little more. let me take care of you so you’ll be healthy again.” and you feel every ounce of his sincerity pierce through the barriers surrounding your soul.

“stop it…” your voice suddenly comes out broken.

you want to put all the blame on your period for the tears that are now brimming your eyes, but jungkook is your biggest weakness of all and that is an explanation enough.

“why are you crying?” he panics. “what did i say?”

“it’s your fault.”

you break down into loud sobs, incapable of even keeping your eyes open. you never understood why we close our eyes when we cry, but right now, you know that you can’t bear to witness his reaction.

“you’re so sweet.”

the towel that was wiping the water from your mouth is now drying the tears from your stained cheeks.

“am i making you sad?”

you furiously shake your head. how could he say such a thing? he is the greatest joy of your life.

“no?”

“no!”

“okay, come here then.”

he wraps his arms around your trembling figure, caging you in the solace of his entire existence. a sense of calmness washes over your system, especially as he runs his hand across your back in gentle strokes. this isn’t his goal though, it seems. you hear none of his quiet shushes beseeching you to stop breaking his heart. he hopes you let go of everything that has been weighing on you, but he has already eased all your pains by loving you.

“ugh, i probably look horrible right now.” you force a chuckle to lighten up the mood, wiping your face with the back of your free hand. “i feel gross.”

“that’s not true.” he gazes at you fondly, brushing your hair with his fingers. “it’s actually infuriating how you look so beautiful still.”

“i know. i’m nice to look at; that’s why you tolerate my attitude.” you conclude in jest.

“yeah, sometimes.” he rides on the joke.

“what…?”

“i’m joking!” he rushes to take it back with a laugh. “of course i’m joking!”

you pout. “are you really?”

“oh, come onnnn.”

he coaxes you with a kiss on the lips— a good morning kiss long overdue. you’ve been spoiled rotten with affection; he knows you need more than one. he interrupts himself several times to kiss you.

“you know i’ll love you until our hair turns white and our skin all wrinkly.”

to be brutally honest, you’re not fond of imagining that far ahead. it’s daunting. you doubt your capability to age with grace. you’re horrified by the thought of having the majority of your life behind you. nostalgia has always been more bitter than sweet. but maybe this memory could be the sweetest of all, if jungkook truly stays by your side until then. in a cottage at the countryside like he said once, or a cabin by the ocean.

you’re both so young; so arrogant when it comes to making promises that are a shot in the dark. so fucking in love.

“me too.” you half-smile, scrunching your nose— a telltale sign of your joy. “now, get out. i really need to pee.”

his face becomes drained of blood. “but you’re st-”

“i won’t lock the door this time.” you cup his cheek, looking at his eyes reassuringly. “we don’t need property damage added to the bill.”

—

“did you not hurt yourself?”

“me?”

“you broke down the door. that’s not easy to do.”

you and jungkook make the best out of a bad deal. you’re squeezed together on the bed, browsing through television channels that seem to never end.

“it was easy because you were on the other side of it.”

that is what he claims confidently, but you are not fully convinced.

“wow, why do they have more channels than we do at home?”

“you didn’t answer my question.” you pout. “did you hurt yourself?”

“i didn’t hurt myself. i’m totally okay. i promise.”

he maintains eye-contact as he speaks. given the assurance, your tight chest unrestricts. jungkook is not a good liar. it’s a trait that causes him inconvenience every now and then, but it helps you to sleep soundly at night.

“should we just watch funny animal videos on youtube?”

“i guess that’s fine.”

it doesn’t show but you feel excitement run in your veins aside from the iv fluids that feel peculiarly cold.

from under your cheek, his chest vibrates with a giggle. “okay, hold on.”

as he pulls up the application, you tangle your legs together beneath the thin blanket. you hear the rapid tap tap tap of the remote control navigating the keypad while he types on the search bar, but your attention is someplace else. you’ve found the crook of his neck to sneak into, lazily kissing every inch of his exposed skin. your lips eventually trail up to his jaw. he smells so nice. you’re addicted.

“baby, someone can enter any minute.”

“i’m not doing anything.” you mumble.

you smile against his lips when he gives you a kiss as sweet as honey anyway.

“i’m curious about another thing.”

“what’s that?”

“did you cry?”

he comes to a still. the answer to that question requires a little time and thought.

“almost…”

“why almost?”

“no time. i had to bring you here, of course.” he replies.

you huff a laugh, exhaling a twinge of melancholia. “don’t cry.”

“i won’t. i’m happy now because you’re awake and fighting with me.”

“ow-”

your cry of pain is silenced when he squeezes you in an embrace that makes it nearly impossible to breathe.

“red panda!”

a squeal assaults both of your hearing as soon as your eyes land on the wide screen infront of the bed.

“i want one so fucking bad.”

the enunciated curse makes your boyfriend crack up in amusement. “that much?!”

—

jungkook opens his eyes to a nurse lightly nudging him awake.

“i’m sorry, i had to wake you up. i need to check vitals and draw blood.”

“shit, i’m sorry.” he panics.

his brain is foggy from the nap, but he still carefully sits up on the bed, wary of the iv line connected to your hand.

“i… was tired and i fell asleep.”

“it’s no problem; don’t worry.”

she smiles at him, but he doesn’t see it.

“you look adorable sleeping.”

“ah, really?” he awkwardly responds, absentminded. “it’s embarrassing.”

he stands on your side, about to disturb your peaceful rest much as it makes his heart ache with guilt, but you’re already stirring due to the absence of his warmth.

your heavy eyelids blink at the nurse in curiosity. “oh… do you need my blood?”

“yes, but i’ll take your blood pressure and temperature first.”

“okay,” you mumble, offering your arm. “it might be higher now because i’m scared.”

she chuckles at your joke. jungkook tries to share an endeared look with her and non-verbally communicate adorable, right?

“i promise i’ll be quick. although we definitely want it to be higher than earlier’s.”

you wince as the cuff around your upper arm goes as tight as it could, and you sigh at the same time that it begins to deflate.

“good, good, good,” she chants with a mumble. “it’s back in the normal range again…”

she brings out a digital thermometer from her pocket.

“you know where this goes.”

she hands it over to you, and you awkwardly place it in your armpit, holding it in place. it’s quiet as you wait for the device to make the beeping sound, except for her pen creating friction with your chart as she takes down notes.

“how’s your stitches? do you feel any discomfort?”

“it’s fine. thank you.”

not long after, you hear the beep. you return the thermometer to her, but not before taking a peak at the numbers displayed on the tiny screen. 36.8°C. you think you’ll live.

“i’ll draw your blood now.”

the nurse’s voice is sweet and reassuring, but it doesn’t quite ease the nervousness evident on your expression. your pupils shake as you watch her disinfect the area, and then comes out the long needle.

another one, jungkook laments inside.

“____, i’m right here.”

you crane your head, whimpering out his name. “jungkook,”

“it will be just a pinch. i’m inserting the needle now, alright?”

you take a sharp inhale.

if only he could switch positions with you, he would do it in a heartbeat. unfortunately, all he can do is caress your hair and whisper that it will be over soon.

“it hurts.” your damp eyelashes flutter, face twisting in discomfort. “i don’t like it.”

really, just a pinch? obviously a lie.

“hey, baby. look at the tv.”

the autoplay was left turned on after you fell asleep together. inside the screen is a puppy rolling around a snow-covered lawn. the wagging of its tail, the wide smile, and the pupils as big as boba balls: they all scream the happiness of an innocent.

“it’s so cute… i miss bam already. can we go to a dog park again?”

“of course!”

that promise sparks your smile. you turn to your side, and jungkook also catches a glimpse of the cotton taped to where you were poked.

“all done. you can go back to resting.”

“thank you. will you need to take blood again?” you inquire at the nurse.

“hm, probably. it depends on the doctor based on the results we get from this one.”

“can’t you just do it while i’m asleep? or is that not allowed?”

“baby…” jungkook snorts, hiding his face behind the palm of his hands.

the nurse laughs at your desperate suggestion. “that is honestly not a rare request, but the thing is… you might wake up in the middle of it and injure yourself. we can’t do that.”

“that won’t be a problem!” you passionately argue your case. “i’m a deep sleeper. seriously!”

“ah, thank you so much for your hard work!”jungkook intervenes, bowing to the nurse out of respect and gratitude. “i’m sure you’re busy. i will handle this!”

“oh yes, yes- thank you. please don’t forget the medicine for after dinner.”

“i won’t!”

“if you need anything, you know where to find me again.”

“yes,” he nods, chuckling. “thank you.”

“then i should leave…? but you’ll see me again later! bye!”

the door shuts, and his attention lands on your unimpressed form: a blank stare and arms folded infront of your chest.

uh-oh.

“did she seriously wink while saying that?”

“what?” he freezes, genuinely clueless. “i don’t know. i didn’t see anything. i was looking at you.”

“i’m right here- i’m the patient. why would you need anything from her? huh? why is she so excited to see you again?” you ramble angrily.

“right?!”

he climbs on the bed, reclaiming his spot next to you.

“that was weird.”

“what if she made it hurt on purpose? that…” you frown, glancing at your arm. “that didn’t really feel like a pinch to me.”

“ey, calm down. she wouldn’t.” he makes a doubtful face, laughing off the accusation. “…i don’t think so?”

you blink, exhaling in disbelief. “are you taking her side now?”

“of course not! baby, i’m just saying… a professional won’t do that.”

“why not? she’s still human. humans do stupid things when they like someone. she obviously likes you.”

“and so what?”

he grins with a spark of mischief, leaving an inch of a distance between your lips.

“i’m obviously yours.”

but you turn your cheek and your eyes fall on your lap, a pout highlighting your downcast mood.

“it’s so annoying.”

the regret sinks in after. he should’ve stuck to the golden rule: agree with everything that you say. there’s no point in having an argument no one will win. does it matter who’s right and wrong if each other’s sadness is contagious in addition to their own? your gut has almost always been right, and he’s old enough to be conscious of not allowing a stranger to put a dent on your relationship.

“are you serious? are you uncomfortable?” he tilts his head to try and get a better look at your face. “should i request for a different nurse?”

it’s quiet for a beat and he feels inclined to fill the silence with whatever enters his mind.

“i love you.”

almost immediately, your features soften and he knows your heart is also melting. the two of you bite the inside of your cheeks to hide a smile.

“no, there’s no need for that.”

but he still can’t help but to be worried. your peace of mind is his top priority. he doesn’t want you to be more stressed out, especially by things that he has the power to solve.

“are you sure?”

“she pissed me off. i need to piss her off too.”

of course, his ever stubborn and competitive lover. he sits up properly, amused and curious.

“and how will you do that?”

“i don’t know,” you nonchalantly shrug. “i’ll come up with something.”

—

“come up with what?”

to your surprise, a voice you haven’t heard in weeks echoes from the door.

“mom…?”

you’re stunned after only hearing yourself react to jungkook’s mother’s unexpected entrance. your head whips to his direction; your eyes wordlessly interrogating him.

“i need to go to work so i called her to watch over you.” he explains.

“why would you do that?” you argue with him as quietly as possible, lips barely moving as you try to hide your face from your mother-in-law. again, not one of your finest moments. “you didn’t have to. i can take care of myself.”

“but you don’t have to because you have us.”

jungkook marks the conversation finished with a kiss pressed to your temple, leaving you dumbfounded. he jumps off the bed and for a split second, you make eye-contact with his mother before he towered over her for a quick hug.

her kind smile is embroidered in your memory; a memory that wraps your heart in a type of warmth only a mother can provide.

“mom! i’m sorry. i really, really, really need to leave now. but! i’ll try to come back early so you can go home early too.”

“aigoo, stop stressing yourself out.”

jungkook receives a slap on the back, somehow more loving can scolding.

“i can stay the night so do what you need to do. you don’t have to worry.”

“it’s not only because i’m worried!”

she sassily puts a hand over her waist. it takes everything in you not to laugh out loud.

“then what else?”

“mom! what else?” he cheekily smiles. “of course i’ll miss ____ too much.”

did your boyfriend just…? to his mother? your jaw becomes slack from the shame.

“i missed ____ too!” she contests. “go to work and give us our alone time.”

you shyly smile when she transfers her attention from her son to you.

“hello, my baby. are you hungry?”

—

“does my son feed you well?”

“he does! but it’s funny- other mothers ask the opposite. are you feeding my son well? do you make sure he’s comfortable?”

you think out loud, transfixed on how she peels oranges with ease. your hands would always be stained by the juices, (and eyes red and teary from accidental splashes) (it’s too embarrassing to even think about) but hers are still magically clean.

“is that so?”

you graciously accept the slice she feeds you. she laughs when your face lights up like a christmas tree one more time. it’s way sweeter than you anticipated. you can’t get over how delicious it is.

“mhmm!”

perhaps you relied too much on dramas when it came to your expectations of what a relationship with your in-laws would look like. you imagined yourself running around like a dog trying to prove yourself worthy of their son, yet for some reason, it looks like they adore you for simply existing. it makes you feel extremely grateful, but you don’t understand.

“mom, i have a question… i know it’s probably too late to ask this now, but…”

“what could that be?”

“are you really not against me and jungkook living together?” you swallow your fear of the possibility of an unpleasant truth. “are you not… worried… that i’m receiving too much from him?”

because you would understand the apprehension. as a parent, one’s main concern would be their child. to outside eyes, it’s easy to come to the conclusion that jungkook is being taken advantage of and he’d be better off dating someone with the same status. sometimes you wish you were that someone too.

she utters your name sadly.

“he receives happiness and love from you. those are the most valuable things you could give to a person.”

she caresses your hair like she wants to erase the anxiety poisoning your mind.

“my dear, how come you’re worried about that until now? haven’t we told you? you’re part of the family. forget about my sister! i don’t welcome her negativity in our house!”

“living together is different. it’s a big deal. it normally happens in a relationship after…” the following words feel foreign in your mouth; they come out quieter than the rest of your sentence. “getting married.”

“then tell me. why did you agree to live with him?”

because you’re selfish. because you want more time that you can have him all to yourself. because you want to be accessible— the first person he runs to when he’s seeking comfort and stability. because you want goodnight and good morning kisses. because you were afraid of the risks but you’ve grown addicted to the thrill of love.

“he said… no matter how hard i push him away, he will stay within my reach.”

you hear your own shaky breathing. that moment— it’s still burned into your memory. you’re still holding on to it. it’s a promise he is yet to break and you pray that he never, ever does.

“i don’t want to push him away. i want to be within his reach too.”

you’re two people loving each other with everything within your means. after the endless pains and the deafening noise, you like to think that’s what makes this relationship worth fighting for.

“does my opinion still matter knowing that? will you let me stop you?”

“no, i won’t. i’d make you change your mind.”

if you had a machine connected to you, she would see how your heart rate has gone off the charts. but you’re known to say whatever’s on your mind and that, much to your dismay, isn’t switched off despite sitting infront of the woman who birthed and raised the love of your life.

you sniffle, pursing your lips nervously. “but i feel like there might be a right answer to that one.”

what you didn’t expect was her to laugh until her belly hurts; placing a hand over her mouth in an effort to calm herself down and keep grace.

“mom! stop, i’m so embarrassed!”

“no, ____, don’t get me wrong!”

she is teary-eyed as she gathers herself together.

“the more time i spend with you, the more i realize why jungkook loves you so much. i’ve seen him show incredible commitment twice. do you know that? first, when he went to seoul to become a singer. second, when he told us he got an apartment because he wants to be with you… of course, as his mother, i’ll admit that he’s young when he made those decisions, but he always proves to me that he’s smart and responsible.”

the urge to cry returns and strengthens as she speaks. you feel your eyelashes become damp with unshed tears. you don’t know how to act. you fiddle with your fingers. you stare at the strings and peels of the oranges you can still taste.

“i believe we both know jungkook’s personality well. he wouldn’t have let me stop him either. i’m happy to know that you’ll fight for him too.”

“thank you…”

“tsk, tsk, tsk- what is there to cry about? jungkook will get angry at me if he discovers that i made you cry.”

she wipes away your tears; however, the unmistakable scent of oranges that has clung to her hands and the affection in her tone bring forth a waterfall.

“seeing this makes me sadder.” she laments, referring to the stitches on your face.

“me too,” you babble in the midst of quiet sobs. “it makes me sad. it’s so ugly.”

—

you can’t remember the last time you felt this alone. perhaps it’s the effect of staying in an unfamiliar building of complete strangers. without your mobile phone, may you add. you managed to persuade jungkook’s mother to leave an hour ago because you didn’t want her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch.

the lights are turned off except for the lamp beside your bed, and with the television muted, you could hear a hairpin drop.

you’re alone and you can do whatever you want.

you dragged the visitor’s chair infront of the window to admire the garden like it’s a painting in motion. you watched people converse, stroll, and drink coffee. you watched them run for shelter when the clouds became too heavy and the sky began to fall. oh, so that’s why you couldn’t see the stars.

at this moment, there’s nothing left to amuse yourself with but the trembling of the leaves and the raindrops forming temporary rings when they fall in the water fountain.

your senses crave for more. you reach over and crack open the window, just enough to allow the sound of the rain and the scent of it permeating the earth to enter your room.

“this is kind of peaceful.” you whisper, amazed by the new lightness carried by your heart.

you close your eyes and you breathe in the petrichor deeply. you want nature in your lungs as a reminder that you’re alive. you welcome the cold wind kissing your face. you can feel your hair touching your neck. you always do, but for once, you’re choosing to acknowledge it. your thumb slowly brushes across the palm of your hand, perceiving the texture of your skin, the softness, and the lines. and your feet, they’re in the clouds, the fluffy slippers jungkook’s mother bought outside because she knows they’re your favorite to wear.

you’ve loved and despised this body for a million different reasons. your mind and heart have accepted defeat countless times, but your body wakes up to every brand new day without fail. your body implores you to live. did it finally give up on you today?

“baby!”

you look behind to search for the source of the sound.

you get your answer from the kiss planted on your lips.

you only saw his face for a split second, but even if you had your eyes closed, you’d know it has to be jungkook kissing you.

you can smell him. you’ve memorized the way the shape of his lips fits with yours.

oh, the sounds of his kisses too. you like to call them the butterfly call because they make butterflies appear in your stomach.

you could trace the scar on his cheek with your finger if you want to.

god, what a privilege it is to experience life in this vessel.

a knock on the door forces you to part too early. the same nurse from earlier enters and you internally scream all the curse words in your dictionary. jungkook acknowledges her with a bow and a quick ‘hello’ before squatting down infront of you.

“i committed another crime for you today.”

“huh?”

your wide, confused eyes take a glimpse at the nurse who is doing something with the controls of your iv line.

hahaha… she knows he’s not serious, right?

“what did you do?”

his smile is so big that his eyes have turned into little crescent moons. you’d make a guess but there is an infinite amount of things jungkook could possibly be this excited about.

…apparently, one of them would be strawberry cake.

you gape at the transparent box he was hiding behind his back all along.

“did you steal somebody’s birthday cake?!”

“it’s a producer’s birthday and he received lots of cakes, so he told me i can take one home.”

“how is it stealing if he allowed you to take it?”

he tosses his backpack on the couch as he sets down the box on the table. he rummages through the bag his mother left behind, successfully bringing out a spoon. meanwhile, you get your blood pressure taken again.

as he opens the box, he sends a smirk your way.

“no. i hid the strawberry cake because there’s so many who wanted to eat it.”

“are you crazy?!”

the nurse clicks her tongue. “don’t talk and stay still, please.”

“oh,” your hand flies to your mouth on instinct. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry.” jungkook also apologizes.

you and your boyfriend secretly share a look, exchanging a smile that is stifled laughter inside. your lips remain zipped as the nurse restarts the process of taking your blood pressure. on the other hand, jungkook eats a spoonful of cake, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows at you. you roll your eyes and he tries harder to laugh without a sound.

seconds later, he grumbles about the room being too warm. he wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead using the back of his hand, and he does the worst thing he could possibly do at this moment. he reaches for his back, pulling his sweater over his head. naturally, his inner shirt rides up and allows wandering eyes a peak at his glorious toned abdomen.

passed out in the shower. busted your eyebrow open. front-row seat for a woman flirting and ogling at your boyfriend.

how fucking great.

“hello? i think it’s done.” you snap.

“a-ah, yes.”

you hear her swallow as she removes the cuff from your arm. she may be wearing a mask but she’s hot and red all the way to her ears. you’ve only read about it in books. you didn’t even believe this could happen in real life until now.

“i will check your temperature too.”

“go on.”

you repeat the same process from hours earlier, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you wait for the beep.

“yah, why is the window open? you’ll catch a cold.”

jungkook, yet again, steals the attention of every person in the room when he rises to his feet. his shadow casts over you as he closes the window.

“i wanted to smell the rain.”

“is the room getting too stuffy for you?”

you shrug. “i just wanted to smell the rain.”

you feel the nurse’s stare. you offer her a smile and her nameplate briefly gets caught by your vision. kang ji-woo.

“ji-woo; that’s a pretty name.” you pay her a sincere compliment. “it’s healing, don’t you think?”

“yes? uh-uhm, y-yes…” she replies, unsure and confused by the sudden small talk. “actually, it’s been linked to a reduction in stress and anxiety levels.”

“thank you! babe, did you hear that?”

“uhuh, think about my stress and anxiety levels.” he leans against the window with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you.

so now he’s flexing his arm muscles. cool, cool, cool. you know he’s not doing it on purpose and his entire existence is just naturally hot and it’s infuriating.

“i’ve been worried sick about you all day.”

his statement makes you frown for a new reason. at the same moment, the thermometer beeps.

“could you please tell him that i’m fine?”

“37.3, uhhh- that’s slightly above normal. how do you feel? does your head hurt? are you cold?”

“i feel fine though?”

“okay. please take a lot of rest and stay warm…” her gaze lingers at jungkook who is blocking the window. “keep the window closed. hopefully it won’t be higher when i check again later.”

seriously?! you could cry. you want to go home where it’s comfortable. where it’s only you and jungkook and bam.

but you bet somebody would be happy if you had to stay longer.

“i’ll look after ____.” your boyfriend sighs, pulling out a jacket from his backpack.

“you shouldn’t have kissed me. what if you get sick?”

your blatantness causes the nurse to pause in updating your chart. she awkwardly clears her throat. “yeah… that… that isn’t currently advisable.”

“i’m sorry. i’ll control myself.”

you earn a glare from jungkook, then he fakes a smile which you gladly return.

“before you go, may i request for a new blanket? sorry, i spilled something earlier.”

“sure thing! i’ll come back with that right away.”

—

“she seemed happy to leave.” jungkook remarks. “i can’t tell if you were actually being nice or being passive aggressive.”

you smile innocently, taking a bite off the strawberry you stole from the top of the cake. “i’m a fucking angel.”

damn it, why is he suddenly turned on?

were you serious about the no kiss rule?

“would you rather i be the type to pull their hair?”

he shakes his head with a laugh. “but you did slap someone once.”

“you want to see me that furious again?”

“never in my wildest dreams.”

he kisses the top of your head, producing an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ sound that makes you giggle happily.

“here, have some more cake.”

he offers you a spoonful of cake.

no, it’s bigger.

as a matter of fact, the piece could probably pass off as a cupcake.

you gawk at it as if you’re figuring out the logistics of putting it in your mouth. his heart does a flip when you tilt your head and do your best to take in the whole thing. however, in the middle of it, you decide that you can’t, and you end up biting it off a little more than halfway.

oh my god, he loves you. he loves you. you’re so fucking cute.

your cheeks are full as you struggle to chew. you cover your mouth with your hand but they don’t touch. you’re so elegant in your ways and sometimes he wonders how you’re still attracted to him after he acts stupid.

also, plain white nails? that’s new. you always want colors.

“your nails look pretty.”

he is so focused on you that he fails to take notice of another presence occupying the room.

“your mom did them for me.”

“i figured. she wants to do mother-daughter things with you.”

the short break of silence speaks volumes. you look at him, blinking with eyes hinting at a type of joy you’re lost on how to express.

“did you choose white?”

“no. we were watching a drama and it was the couple’s wedding.”

oh, that makes total sense.

“let me guess,” he trails off with a half-embarrassed, half-entertained smile. “she asked when we will get married?”

“why would she ask me that? how would i know?” you scoff.

his heart starts at a thousand miles per hour. fuck, are you hinting at him? are you messing with his feelings again? with you, he always needs to remind himself to be rational.

“i need more time to prove to you that i’m husband material.”

“what? stop it. i don’t care. i don’t need a ring.”

your unpredictableness pushes him to the edge of his seat.

“don’t pressure yourself. you already treat me way better than most husbands do their wives.”

the pride painted on your face is unmistakable. he feels his heart swelling in his chest. has he been doing a better job than he originally thought? after what happened today, he was terrified that he hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.

“i’m so happy with what we have.”

you offer him a delicate smile before eating the rest of the cake that was left on the spoon. he swears there’s a glowing halo above your head.

could your temperature have magically dropped in the past five minutes? would you kill him if he kissed you right now?

“is there anything else i could assist you with?”

and then he is rudely snapped out of his hopeless adoration and daydreaming.

“that’s all! thank you for your hard work!” you chirp.

he turns to the nurse with a lovesick grin.

“please come to our wedding.”

the unforeseen wedding invitation earns him a slap on the chest. he clutches the affected area, wincing in pain.

he hears you mutter. “don’t invite strangers to our wedding.”

the irritated glare he predicted to face isn’t there. rather, you’re wearing the flustered smile he only sees when he knows that he did something to make you fall for him all over again.

before ji-woo left, she tried to subtly reject the invitation by jokingly saying that she’d die to go, but most probably, she’d have to work that day. you know… being an overworked hospital employee and all. you caught her glancing at you with bitterness failed to be guised as indifference. you get it. you’d hate it if another person was in your place. frankly speaking, you could be miles pettier.

your boyfriend wipes the corner of your lips, thoughtless as he licks off the cake frosting from his thumb.

damn it, you wish she was also here for that.

“you haven’t stopped smiling.”

“you love me and you never let me forget that.”

you give an answer despite the lack of a question mark.

you just made his world stop spinning on its axis and you’re not even aware.

jungkook knows the heavenly feeling of knowing that he is loved, but he has never deeply considered the joy and relief when the person he loves believes that he loves them.

“i’m so lucky. i love you.”

you push yourself up to plant a kiss on his forehead. it’s a rarity he treasures and keeps.

“i love you too.”

he cries infront of you.

almost.

he excuses himself to the bathroom and cries in there a little.

you’re so easy to love— that’s why it makes him want to do difficult things for you. like commit more crimes?

[hypnagogics]

is this vore? /hj. hi. im gonna squeet. and dunk my head into ice water digital footprint pls forgive me. may have wrote this with one hand IM JOKING. this is just somethin quick because i need to get it out of my system ok.

nsfw drabble—biting sev all over ♡ sub!sevika, edging, fingering (all s! receiving), idk what else girl i can't see straight cuz of her...

and there she lay before you, bare and twitching, in a state she's kept very well hidden from everyone—except you.

her lip tucked under her teeth, head thrown back and half-lidded, blown out eyes lazily following your movements; she was laying sprawled on the mattess. she had tried and failed to hold herself up, both arms trembling under her weight until they eventually gave out.

this was the result of you—oh, how evil you were—edging the poor woman for an eternity. in actuality, you had tortured her to such a point she didn't even have the energy to bark orders at you like she usually does.

all she could do, was whine. whines of your name, wordless huffs and quiet pleas were all she could sound out. and every so often she'd squirm under you and break eye contact when you did something so obscene, even she couldn't handle it.

you wore the most wicked of sneers on your face excitedly, using all your strength to push her thick muscular thighs outward, until you gazed upon a sight worth winning wars for.

the torture you faced her with had her pussy throbbing. no, that was an understatement. you could see every individual muscle controlling her shiny lips jump at the cool air, you could see the way her clit was nearly whispering for you to touch it, and not to mention the pooling of pearlescent slick dribbling out of her pulsating hole, making a literal puddle under her ass.

now this? this was a never going to get old. you'd plaster the image of her fucked-out self on every surface, take a polaroid and carry it around with you. you were salivating. drool was almost running down your chin at the sight.

but alas, your blissful trance was cut short, by none other than her gruff voice.

"hey. you gonna stare or am i gonna have to finish this myself?" her voice shook, then her eyes darkened and she spat, "you'd like watching that though, wouldn't you. fuckin'—holy-!!"

you didn't give her the time of day to listen to her bitching about, and you cut her off by lunging forward and sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of her right inner thigh.

her shocked intake of air quickly turned into a pornographic moan, her back arching, her breathing quickening, and her thighs fighting to close around your head.

you knew that was her weakness. your teeth in her skin? pff she was a goner. you used that to your advantage as much as you could, she deserved earth shattering orgasms just as much as the next gal.

her noises were bordering on a shriek as soon as you circled her hole with a digit, grinning into her skin at the way she was sucking you in, legitimately trapping your finger inside her.

you felt the flutters of an impending orgasm tickle your immobilized finger, and with great effort you removed your mouth from her thigh and pulled your finger out.

the look on her face when you did that felt sharper than if she had stabbed a spear right through your heart. when sevika gives one of her famed death glares, the word stops spinning. but you being you, it just spurs you on more.

before she can protest you migrate up and place gentle kisses on the side of her neck, right on her pulse point, as a soothing motion before you did what you really wanted.

you sank your teeth in her flesh as hard as your jaw allowed you to, the tangy taste of her blood invading your mouth.

simultaneously, you brought your hand back down to her neglected pussy, pushed your thumb up against her thumping clit, and slid your two middle digits inside her—within moments finding her spongy sweet spot.

the cries of pleasure were stuck in her throat, and you couldn't see from what you were doing, but you'd bet your entire life's savings that her eyes were rolled so far back in her skull only the whites would be visible.

your fingers were working hard, all in harmony to bring her to that peak she so craved, and luckily it hit her after no time at all.

her whole being tensed, a low groan reverberated through the room as one of her hands flew to grab a chunk of your hair, further pushing your body flush against hers. you didn't move your mouth, it was suctioned against her in such a way that was guaranteed to leave a nasty bruise on her skin the next day, but she loved it. you did as well.

you felt a gush of warm fluid on your palm, and chuckled into her skin while she shook all over, needy, animalistic noises being all she could produce.

you put in the work and made sure she was utterly spent, then lifted yourself off of her to enjoy the look on her face. she looked so at peace, so satisfied and ethereal, you adored her more than words could ever say.

and likewise, she did you. she cracked open one eye and smiled widely, opening her arms and beckoning for you to lay back on top of her in an embrace.

naturally, you did just that. eagerly burying your face in the crook of your neck, you kissed over the bite mark you left, ran your tongue over the indents in her skin and reveled in the little whimpers she made.

she always had more flesh you could lovingly bite, why stop at just one square inch?

sev taglist (not tagging everyone still cuz YALL SIGNED UP FOR TLOU AND IM A PEOPLE PLEASERRRR SORRY): @fizyypopp @luvssliyahh @wizard-pdf @dearangxl @melsmunch

[entitled-fangirl]

Fatherhood. P2

Single dad!Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: The reader follows through with her marriage proposal. (I literally cannot say more without spoiling stuff)

Part 1

Masterlist

...........................................................

"Father?" Her voice carried through the hall.

Bolton turned to give his daughter his entire attention. 

"The carriage outside. Have we a visitor?" She asked meekly.

He sighed. "Afraid not."

Her head tilted. "An empty carriage? Who would ever send such-" She found herself stopping at the realization. "It's for me, isn't it?"

Bolton's lip tightened. "It is."

"Ah," she noted wearily. "I'll… I'll collect my things, I suppose."

He nodded, though his heart ached somewhere deep inside to see her go. "Best that you do. Can't have ya forgetting yer lavender, eh?"

She managed a smile. "No. I couldn't bare it."

"Go on, then."

She gave one last look before retreating up to her room.

…

She thanked the driver earnestly as she stepped in, watching the door shut behind her. 

This was nicer than she anticipated it being.

She leaned back when the carriage began to move and started to close her eyes before pausing at the sight of a small sealed letter. 

She picked it up.

The Stark sigil.

Her fingers shook as she opened it.

My dear lady, I do hope you'll excuse the manner in which you've received this letter. Your father seems to be a man of pageantry and show, keeping you in the dark.  I implore you to stop the carriage for a surprise of sorts. - An eager father

She reread the letter a few times before daring to do as it said.

Tap.Tap.Tap. against the ceiling of the carriage.

It came to an abrupt halt.

She paused with her hand still raised at the ceiling. Her ears listened intently for any noise at all.

The door soon opened and light poured further into the carriage. A hand shot out and she took it, stepping out.

When she stepped out and her eyes adjusted, the sight of her hand in Lord Stark's threw her off. "Lord Stark…?"

Cregan's bright smile filled her sight. "Hello, sweet girl."

She looked around, noticing that Cregan's horse stood behind the carriage. "What is this? A-Are you trying to save me?" She asked with a confused brow.

"Am I- what?" His grip on her hand tightened. "No. No. Of course not."

She frowned. "Excuse my bluntness, my lord. Why are you here then?"

He took a step back to collect himself, and a bright smile came over his face. "Y/n." He took her other hand as well. "Who do you imagine wished for your hand so ardently?"

It clicked then and her eyes widened. "You-"

"-Indeed," he beamed.

Her mouth laid agape. "W-Why did you not tell me?"

He rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles. "I had thought your father would, but alas."

"I fear I've embarrassed myself then-"

"-anything but." He persisted, "You've proven to me just how loyal you are. That's a trait that is not easily learned."

"You truly wish for my hand?" She asked.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Of course. Now come, Rickon awaits us in Winterfell."

Her eyes lit up. "Then we must go." She moved to the carriage, then paused when she noticed Cregan's lack of movement. "You are not traveling with me?"

He frowned. "A northman does not fair well in carts and carriages. We're made for horses."

She hummed. "Very well." She turned on her heel and began to walk to the horse. 

He shifted his weight to his other foot. "What're you doing?"

She looked over her shoulder. "What? Think I can't manage one horse ride?"

An amused smile came over his face and he shook his head in acceptance as he strode over to her.

Did he have to lift her onto the horse? Yes. Did he have the reigns the entire time? Yes. Did she know a single thing about horses? No. 

Did he point it out or complain once? Never.

…

The young woman had spent more time with Rickon than it seemed with Cregan for the time being. 

Sure, their wedding was still a few weeks out, but it was a strange thing to see a woman so infatuated with a son that was not of her blood.

"A horse? Yes," she grinned as she tapped the wooden horse on the ground as if it was galloping. "It's a mighty horse, isn't it? Very strong. Much like your papa's."

Rickon moved to his small chest of toys and pulled out another wooden thing, quickly moving to sit by her and do the same thing with his toy as hers.

"A direwolf? Horses gallop. See?" She replicated her motion. "But direwolves run. Here." She held her hand over his and lightly moved it to tap at a smoother and lighter rhythm. "Horses move with their mind. Wolves move with their hearts. That's what makes them predators."

Rickon tries to replicate the motion she made. It was sloppy, but it was clear that he got the idea. 

"That's wonderful. You're a clever boy," she preened at him.

"Clever as his father?" Cregan grinned from the doorway.

She gasped and turned, not expecting to see him while she was seated on the cold stone floor. "Cregan-"

He walked further in and knelt on the other side of them. "What have we here? A hungry wolf? Or is he friendly?"

She laughed. "All of our animals are friendly. Aren't they, Rickon?" When he nodded, she continued. "Wolves aren't hungry within these walls, Cregan."

His eyes were glued to hers, an obvious heat moving through his body. "Perhaps there is one."

Her head shot up and met his gaze, a pink hue coming to her cheeks. "I-"

Rickon's eyes had watered, and the boy let out a sniffle. 

The tension was quickly broken, for both now focused on the boy. 

"My boy," Cregan hummed. "No need for tears. I didn't mean that. There's no wolf besides Dark Watch. And she's no evil thing, is she?"

The boy finally let out a real cry, clearly terrified at the thought of a hungry wolf in Winterfell.

Cregan held his arms out, ready to receive the boy's wet cheek upon his chest. But it never came.

He heard her soft gasp as Rickon launched himself against her chest in desperation. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and began to rock him. "Your father didn't mean it, my little Rickon. It was only a jest."

Cregan wanted to be mad. He felt that maybe he should be. But there was no angry bone in his body. 

His son had found a comfort besides him. 

He believed he found himself falling further for her, if that was even possible.

…

"CREGAN!"

His head shot up from the letters sprawled across the council table. "Excuse me."

He didn't wait for permission from the council members before he ran out of the room and a fast pace. 

The man pushed himself to run down the stairs, through the corridors that felt like forever, until he came upon his son's room.

"Cre-Oh. Oh, you missed the most wonderful thing," his betrothed beamed. 

Relief filled him. "I thought you dead from the sounds."

"My heart is very much alive," she claimed. She held Rickon on her hip and Cregan couldn't help but imagine her doing so with his seed growing inside her.

He had to physically shake the thought away. 

"W-What is it?"

She pulled Rickon closer to focus and her voice lowered. "Pa-pa," she enunciated. "P-ah p-uh."

She looked expectantly at the boy who only stared back. 

"Oh, Cregan. I promise he said it. I truly do!"

He shook his head with a sigh. "I believe you. I do. But I've not heard him speak. If it wasn't for his cries, I'd fear he had no voice at all."

"Be easy on him. He's learning."

"He should have already," Cregan sighed. "I fear it's my fault."

Her head tilted and she shifted the boy. "I don't see how it could be."

Cregan fully sat at that point, crossing his legs lazily. "His mother died on the birthing bed, you know."

She nodded. "I remember."

"I was in shambles after that. Couldn't dare to look at him." He ran a hand through his hair as if brushing the memory away. "Took some time to get over it. And by then, well, the damage was done."

Her heart ached at his honesty. "There were wet nurses and servants to help though, surely?"

"Yes, but none are the same as a father's touch."

Her body grew warm, and not just from the child in her arms. "Indeed."

Cregan leaned forward and brushed his hand over the back of the boy's head. "He's a good child. I'm glad he has you."

She looked up at the man and admired the genuine smile that was over his face. 

…

The weeks following were easy. Breaking fast with Cregan, followed by a walk through the halls to help her grow confidence in her home. Then hours in the library where she read or stitched. A servant brought small foods to tide her over to supper. Then supper with both Cregan and Rickon. The poor boy had to sit on his knees to even see over the table. 

"No, no," Cregan laughed heartily. "You were terrified, my love!"

"I was n-" She couldn't help but brake into a smile. "Well, you're an intimidating man at first sight!"

"Am I still?" He asked as a tease, but it was mixed with something else. "Do I frighten you?"

Her breath escaped in a short pant, overcome with the thought of what being his wife would truly entail.

He was frightening to everyone. Firm and strong, not easily swayed. Cold and forbidding. 

"No."

"No?"

"Not at all."

He gained a smirk. "How so?"

Her eyes shifted between him and his son. "You're softer than you wish to seem."

A fire was lit behind his eyes, and she knew that if Rickon wasn't there, they may have been doing something entirely different.

"Smart girl."

She preened at his praise. 

…

"What about-"

"-I have it handled."

Her head tilted. "Fine. And th-"

"-It's been done. You worry too much."

"One last thing. T-"

"You intelligently foolish woman," he sighed as he took her shoulders in his large hands. "I have done it all. You need only do your part."

She forced herself to take a deep breath. "You wonderful man."

"And you, Lady Bolton? Are you not a wonder as well?" He grinned.

"Lady Stark," she corrected him.

…

She fit into the role of lady with grace and ease. 

As if there was never such a prefect fit.

"Come," she beckoned Rickon along. "Your father is expecting us, and we shan't keep him waiting."

Upon seeing them enter the council room, Cregan's gloomy demeanor was instantly lightened. He stood up. "You're late."

She hums. "Do excuse us. Lord Rickon was practicing his jumping and who am I to stop him?" She teased

"Ah," he acknowledged when they got close enough. He bent down and picked up the boy. Once Rickon was held firmly against him, Cregan tilted his head down and kissed his wife deeply.

She pulled away with a fond giggle and red cheeks. 

Cregan was an unashamed man, kissing his wife in such a manner in front of his councilmen. "Sit," he gestured to her chair. "Let us begin."

…

"I'll never know how to thank you," Cregan remarked quietly one day.

The three had managed to get away from Winterfell for an afternoon. Seated on the dead grass, she watched Rickon spend his time chasing a bird that was so far in the air, he'd never have a chance, even if he could fly behind it.

"Thank me? For what?"

"For this. For being able to live in such ease," he said as he gestured out to the field.

"I should be thanking you," she hummed as she reached out to their basket and ripped of a small piece of bread, eating it. 

He leaned to her and placed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "Never."

She giggled and ripped another, now turning to him. "Fatherhood suits you, my love." Her hand came up to his lips. 

He opened his mouth, smirking as his wife's hand pushed the bread between his lips. Her fingers rest there as a look comes into her eyes. 

Cregan chewed the bread then kissed at her fingers. "And you, you wonderful mother." 

"PAPA!"

Their heads shot up at the sound.

"Rickon?" Cregan's eyes widened. "RICKON?" He stood in a hurry and his eyes scanned the field. 

He ran out when he saw where his son sat in the dirt. "Son, what are you doing? Gods, are you well?"

Rickon looked over his shoulder. In his hand was a flower. He held it up.

"Oh." Cregan bent down. "You scared me, boy. Yes, yes, that's a lovely flower."

Rickon stood up on his still pudgy legs and moved passed his father. 

Y/n had been watching and had slowly starting walking to them. When Rickon neared, she bent down. "Did you speak?" She asked softly. 

Rickon held the flower out to her. 

"For me? Oh, you sweet, sweet boy!" She picked him up and spun him around. "I've never been more proud."

Cregan had joined them at that point. He pulled his wife into his hold. He kissed the crown of her head and whispered in her hair, "Thank you for this. Thank you, my girl."

The family stood there in the field, enjoying every bit of their lives together.

...............................................................

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[jjunieworld]

BLOODSTRUCK ˒˒ 엔하이픈

❝ 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𓈓 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗏𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖾.

p ‎⸝⸝⸝ 엔하이픈 hyung line 𝑥 fem!reader ꔛ g ‎⸝⸝⸝ vampire au, vampire!enha, established relationship, suggestive ── blood, biting, dry humping, kissing, skinship ╱ ❨ 𝓂.list ❩

✉️ ⦂ happy spooky month hehe!! i lovee vampires!!!! expect a lot more vampire stuff since it seems you guys want it based on this poll! i think it would be fun to do a part two where they turn her into a vampire (>人<) enjoy!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

𓏲 𖧷ˊ HEESEUNG

it was an hour until dawn and your boyfriend still wasn’t home. worry etched at the corners of your being and you paced around your shared apartment in wait. you had been blowing up his phone for the past three hours to no avail and you were sick with worry that something might’ve happened to him. just when you were about to go out into the night and find him yourself, he and jake busted through your front door—heeseung completely bloodied.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you rushed towards them, helping jake carry heeseung to the couch. “what happened?! where have you been? i’ve been calling you for hours!” the words flew out your mouth a mile a minute and you couldn’t stop them.

heeseung groaned with pain from all the cuts and wounds he had. “werewolves…” he trailed off hoarsely as you lifted off his shirt to inspect the damage.

“he got attacked on the way home,” jake said, and you could tell the guilt was eating him alive. there wasn’t a scratch on him. “i literally only left him alone for a minute—one minute, and i come back outside to see wolves on top of him.”

you raced to the kitchen and put some paper towels under the water at the sink. “it’s okay, jake, it wasn’t your fault,” you reassured. you came back to the two of them and handed jake the wet towels. “all that matters is that he’s alive.”

“not technically,” heeseung joked before going into a fit of coughs. you and jake glared at him.

you pulled up the sleeve of your shirt and held it at his mouth. “drink,” you said firmly. it was the only way to insure his wounds healed. jake began wiping the blood off of him.

heeseung pushed your arm away a little, shaking his head. “i-i can’t—”

“drink,” you and jake demanded at the same time and you pressed your arm against his mouth. cautiously, heeseung grabbed your arm with his hands, darting you a hesitant look. you watched as his fangs elongated and caught the light before sinking down into your skin.

you winced as your eyes traveled down to his bloodied torso. one by one, the wounds started to close and heal and heeseung eyes got more red. you started to feel lightheaded and stumbled towards heeseung, nearly falling over. he immediately let go of your arm and steadied you. “i’ll get more towels,” jake murmured.

“don’t scare me like that again,” you spoke, sitting down next to heeseung on the couch. he smiled at you, mouth covered in blood, “i’m sorry, i don’t plan on getting attacked by werewolves again.” you playfully nudged him, the two of you laughing.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JAY

you always thought there was something a little weird about your boyfriend. how you could really only see him when the the last ray of sun dropped below the horizon, how sometimes his eyes would look more of a garnet color than brown, how cold he always was, and even sometimes how his teeth seemed sharper than the average person’s.

he would have an excuse for all of it. he’s night owl, he spends his whole day working so he can only see you at night, the light is playing a trick on your eyes, he’s always been this cold, or his teeth are just more pointier than the average. but still, something didn’t sit right with you.

you remembered the night you were cooking dinner together and the blade you were cutting veggies with just so happened to accidentally slice a bit of your finger. “oh!” you gasped, pulling your finger close to you as droplets of blood formed at the cut. you turned to jay and noticed his weird behavior, assuming it was worry. “don’t worry, it’s nothing serious!” you reassured.

jay quickly excused himself to the bathroom and didn’t come out until you wound was all cleaned and wrapped up.

it was little things such as that that had pointed you in the direction of something else—something… supernatural. you had to test your theory, so you decided to plan a little vacation for the two of you and begged for weeks for jay to say yes, and he finally relented.

he seemed a little moody and there was bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept a wink since you started begging him to join you. and now that you were looking, his eyes were definitely a garnet color. you pulled him in for a kiss and subtly pushed your tongue past his lips. sharpness.

you only had one more test to do to truly confirm your suspicions.

a loud, and slightly painful, gasp ripped from your throat as blood poured down your arm. jay rushed in the kitchen, fast as lightning and his eyes widened at the scene. you looked at him with furrowed brows, trying to keep the smirk off your face at the way his eyes grew a more darker red.

without even thinking, and before you could even blink, jay’s mouth was on your arm. your blood covered his mouth and dripped down his chin as he lapped all of it up. your eyes widened and you finally let the smile form on your face. “i knew it!” you said, victorious.

jay’s eyes darted up to yours and you watched them slowly lighten to more of a scarlet. he removed his mouth from your arm, the wound somehow sealed, and knitted his brows together. “how did you find out?”

“well, besides the obvious?” you joked while motioning to all of the blood. “you didn’t hide it that well.”

“so this was all part of your plan?” jay asked. you nodded smugly. jay hummed, lifting your arm towards his mouth. “i see,” he said before sinking his teeth back into your skin.

𓏲 𖧷ˊ JAKE

you were so irresistible to jake—so alluring. he just couldn’t get enough of you.

your lips moved in sync and he couldn’t help but try to pull you as close as he could just to get more. you hummed a little and pushed away from him and jake remembered that you still, in fact, needed to breathe. he removed his hand from the back of your head, pupils blown wide and no doubt the dark red he was accustomed to having every time he was in your presence.

inhaling deeply, you whimpered slightly as jake’s lips attached to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt and the best source of your blood ran through. you knew jake was always careful, especially with you, but no matter how many times you told him that it was okay to take a little bite, he wouldn’t.

“it’s bad enough already being near you,” he said, “i can barely control myself as it is.”

now it seems he was fighting his primal urges hard. you felt the slight prick of his fangs against your skin as his kisses on your neck turned to slight nips. he pushed your chest into his and you could feel him inhale deeply.

“it’s okay,” you muttered lowly, still catching your breath.

jake pulled back and you say his scarlet eyes, seemingly darker than they were moments before. he shook his head slightly. you nodded more and guided his head back to your neck. “it is,” you reassured.

you inhaled, preparing yourself for the sharp pain that you expected his fangs piercing into your skin would have. once they did, you let out a gasp. jake held you tightly, lapping at the blood pouring from your neck. you felt his tongue lick every drop, leaving none to spare.

before he could get too carried away, jake pulled back, his mouth and chin dripping. “see,” you smiled. “i told you it would be okay.”

“no,” jake murmured, licking his lips. “cause now that i’ve had a taste, i’m never gonna be able to get enough.”

𓏲 𖧷ˊ SUNGHOON

you were awoken by the presence of something standing over you, making fear creep deep into your beating heart. you reached over to the other side of the bed. when you felt the empty bed you cracked your eyes open, confused. very slowly, you turned towards where you felt the presence near the side of the bed.

above you, with wide eyes so red they were borderline black, stood your trembling boyfriend as he stared down at you. your brows drew together as you blinked a couple times. he looked pale and almost sickly. the hollows of his cheeks were more prominent and when he licked his dry lips you saw the white of his fangs. immediately, you could tell that he hasn’t been feeding like he said he was. “sunghoon?” you meekly asked, eyes widening at the state of him.

you reached out to touch his hand and in a flash he was flying across the room, back pressed hard against the wall of your shared bedroom. you sighed softly, “why didn’t you tell me you haven’t been feeding?” sunghoon remained silent as he tried to not let his primal nature overcome him and devour you. you sighed again.

pushing the covers off of you, you scoot towards the end of the bed and sunghoon tried to push himself farther into the wall. you pulled down the sleeve of your nightgown off your shoulder and fully expose your neck to him. “here… drink,” you say softly.

his scarlet eyes are more visible as the moonlight shines onto him. there’s slight veins under his eyes that appear at your request and his mouth opens, tongue dancing across his long and sharp fangs. ultimately, sunghoon turns his head and shakes it a little, his gaze finally tearing away from you.

you lean closer to him. “drink,” you demand more firmly and his eyes snaps to yours. “it’s okay,” you add, “you won’t hurt me, i know it.”

relentlessly, sunghoon takes hesitant steps towards you, his eyes hyper-focused on your neck and the delicious blood pumping through your veins. sunghoon cups your face gently with his cold hands and his eyes dart to yours. you give him a slight nod of reassurance. sunghoon then buries his face into the crook of your neck, his nose rubbing up your neck and sending a chill down your spine.

sunghoon pressed a chaste kiss to your neck before you felt his fangs bite into you. a gasp leaves your parted lips and your eyes flutter closed. sunghoon has never fed from you before, but you think you could get use to the feeling as pure bliss overwhelms your senses. you start to feel your body go numb as he laps at the blood trailing down your neck. sunghoon holds you tightly to his chest as he makes sure he gets every last drop he possibly can.

when he’s finished, you feel limp and your eyes are barely open. sunghoon lays you back onto the bed and kisses at your neck again before surfacing from your neck to assess the damage. his mouth is messy and red with your blood, the liquid dripping down his neck as he licks his lips. “better?” you ask him woozily, your eyes closing fully as sleep tries to whisk you away.

“better,” sunghoon replies, and you feel his arms hook under your back and legs before you’re falling into a deep sleep.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

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