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hoshifighting · 7 months ago

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Workaholic!Joshua

— Synopsis: Joshua consistently skips happy hours or works overtime. You've tried to warn your friend countless times, but he didn't listen to you. As a result, it's no surprise that Joshua experienced a burnout on the office floor. — WC: 5.3k — WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, angst, office setting, fingering (f. receiving), clit stimulation, handjob, penetrative sex, a little bit of car sex, protected sex, dirty talk, flirty Joshua.

[Please be aware that the following text includes mentions of burn-out, collapse, fainting out, which may be a sensitive topic for some]

[Issue Club Serie]

You remember when you heard your manager talking about a job vacancy in the recruitment and selection sector. The name immediately stood out to you—Joshua. You studied with him in college, and you knew he would be perfect for the role.

The manager loved him. Joshua was charismatic, empathetic, and dedicated—everything the recruitment team needed. Every morning, he would thank you profusely, and at least twice a week, he would insist on buying you an overpriced coffee. It took some time for you to convince him that he didn't need to do this.

But there was something else you couldn't help but notice. The sheer number of job interviews Joshua had to lead, the late nights you'd see him at his desk with tired eyes, and how he always seemed a little lonely, even though the team welcomed him with open arms.

Joshua would rarely show up to the department's happy hours on Fridays or the company parties, and even then, he would only talk about work. There was no relief, no relaxation. You found yourself listening to him until the end of the night, as the rest of the team started to ask if he would even bother coming anymore, knowing he probably wouldn't.

You couldn't help but feel for Joshua. He was clearly passionate about his work, but at what cost? You watched as he isolated himself, unable to find that work-life balance that so many of us strive for. It made you wonder, what was driving him to push himself so hard, and at what point would the stress and loneliness become too much to bear?

As his friend, you couldn't help but worry about his well-being. You'd seen him cancel plans, skip social events, and even miss out on family gatherings, all in the name of his career. It was admirable, sure, but also concerning.

You could consider reaching out, inviting him for a coffee or a quick chat. Maybe he just needed someone to listen and remind him that there was more to life than just work.

But then again, who were you to judge?

Everyone has their own path, their own motivations. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that Joshua was heading for a burnout. You wondered if there was a way to help him find a better balance without undermining his ambitions. It was a tricky situation, and you weren't sure how to approach it.

As you glance at the clock, the hands indicate it's already 3:35 pm. Your stomach growls, reminding you that you've been so absorbed in your work that you've skipped lunch. Deciding it's time for a much-needed break, you gather your phone and wallet, heading towards the exit of the department.

But just as you're about to leave, you spot Joshua, his fingers dancing across the keyboard in a blur of movement. You can't help but let out a small sigh, knowing he's likely putting in extra hours again. Turning around, you make your way over to his desk, standing beside him.

"Joshua, it's past 3:30. Don't you think it's time for a break?" you say, your voice laced with concern.

Joshua looks up, blinking a few times as he registers your presence. "Oh, hey Y/N. I'm just trying to get this report finished before the end of the day," he explains, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You can't help but smile at his dedication. "Come on, you've been working non-stop. Let's go grab a bite to eat across the street. My treat," you offer, hoping to coax him away from his desk.

Joshua hesitates for a moment, glancing back at his computer screen. "I don't know, Y/N. I really need to get this done..."

"It can wait, Joshua. You need to take a break and recharge," you insist, your tone gentle but firm.

With a sigh, Joshua nods and starts to gather his things. "Alright, you win. Let's go," he says, shrugging on his blazer.

You can't help but feel a sense of triumph as the two of you head towards the elevator. "So, how are the apprentice interviews going?" you ask. "They're going well, actually. The candidates are all so eager and eager to learn," Joshua replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckle, nodding in understanding. "That's the best phase, but I hope they don't overwork themselves in the future, right Josh?" you say, casting him a knowing glance.

Joshua ducks his head, chuckling quietly. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you," he says, the hint of a smile still playing on his face.

As you step out into the bustling street, you feel the sun's warmth on your face, a pleasant contrast to the cold, sterile office. You turn to Joshua, a playful grin spreading across your face.

"Alright, Josh, here's the deal. If you talk about work during this break, you'll owe me an ice cream," you declare, wagging a finger at him.

Joshua laughs, a genuine sound that lightens the mood. "Deal. Though, to be honest, I'd buy you an ice cream anyway," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't you forget it. And remember, I'm serious," you say, trying to keep a straight face as you give him a mock-stern look.

Joshua raises his hands in surrender, still chuckling. "Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear."

As you both find a cozy little café, the smell of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee envelops you. You choose a table by the window, and as you settle in with your meals, the casual chatter of other patrons creates a comforting background hum.

"Did you hear about the latest drama?" you begin, leaning in conspiratorially. "The director's wife found out he was cheating on her because her strawberry jam kept disappearing from the fridge—and the director doesn't even like strawberry jam!"

Joshua's mouth drops open, his eyes wide in disbelief. "No way. Seriously?" he exclaims, staring at you.

You nod, your face a picture of exaggerated exasperation. "Yup. She noticed it was going down way too fast and started putting two and two together."

Joshua shakes his head, still processing the story. "That's wild. You know, during the last interview I led, they actually put some strawberry jam on the table so the candidates would—" He stops abruptly as your glare pierces him. He laughs, holding up his hands again. "Sorry, sorry! No work talk, I remember."

You can't help but smile at his sheepish expression. "Thank you. So, back to the story. After she figured it out, she didn’t just confront him. Oh no, she went all out. She invited him to a romantic dinner, complete with candles and, of course, strawberry jam."

Joshua raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "And then what happened?"

You lean in closer, lowering your voice. "She waited until he took a bite of the dessert she made—some fancy strawberry tart. And then she calmly asked him if he enjoyed it as much as his 'office snacks.'"

Joshua bursts out laughing, nearly choking on his food. "No way! That’s brilliant. What did he do?"

You grin, enjoying his reaction. "He turned beet red and started stammering. She didn’t even wait for an explanation. She just got up, left the table, and moved out the next day. Took the jam with her too, just for good measure."

Joshua laughs so hard tears form in his eyes. "I can't believe it. That's some next-level pettiness. Good for her."

You noticed Joshua seemed more relaxed after your lunch together. He even managed a smile when you passed by his desk later that day. However, during the week, your attempts to repeat the lunch outing were met with resistance. Each time you invited him, he had a different excuse.

"Hey, Josh, want to grab some lunch today?" you asked on Tuesday, hoping to replicate the success of your last outing.

"Sorry, Y/N. I need to lead the apprentice interview," he replied, not looking up from his computer.

On Wednesday, you tried again. "How about lunch today? There is a pasta sale going on at the mall."

Joshua sighed, shaking his head. "I wish I could, but I need to filter the job applications. We're getting so many, and I need to find the best ones."

By Thursday, your frustration was evident, but you kept it in check. "Lunch today, Josh? You deserve a break."

"I'd love to, but I need to solve the issue with the employees' late salaries," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "It's causing a lot of stress for everyone."

Joshua was developing into someone who rarely took a break from his work. Today was Friday, and as you were leaving with your coworkers, all you wanted was to taste a cold beer and find some refuge from the rough week. The whole department was eager to hang out together, and the air was filled with energy.

You were refreshing your makeup at your desk as your coworkers trickled out, laughing and chatting. Glancing over, you saw Joshua standing by the printer, watching the curriculums pile up.

"Josh, you coming out with us tonight?" you called over, hoping to finally get him to relax.

He looked up, "I don't know, Y/N. I have these curriculums to go through, and then there's the report I need to finish."

Tired of trying, you sigh in defeat, the weight of your concern for Joshua pressing heavily on your shoulders. He notices, his eyes meeting yours briefly, but you turn away and walk out. You knew you didn't have the responsibility of checking on him every single time—it was his choice to work himself into exhaustion. But how could you not worry? He was a great friend, and the thought of him breaking down alone between the dividers of his desk was unbearable.

As you sip your beer, trying to enjoy the happy hour, the image of Joshua's lost eyes lingers in your mind. The laughter and chatter around you fade into the background as your thoughts drift back to him. After a few hours, the night winds down, and you remember you forgot your keys at the office. Debora, your coworker, offers you a ride back so you can retrieve them before heading home.

The office is dark and silent as you and Debora step inside, your footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. Only one light is turned on, casting a dim glow over a single desk. You immediately recognize it—Joshua's desk. But he isn't sitting there.

A sense of dread fills you as you approach, the cubicle dividers blocking your view. As you round the corner, you see him—Joshua, sprawled on the floor.

You gasp, rushing to his side. "Joshua!" you scream out, your voice trembling with panic. You carefully lift his head and place it on your lap, your hands shaking as you check for signs of consciousness. He's unresponsive, his face pale and drawn.

"Debora, call an ambulance!" you shout, your voice tight.

Debora fumbles with her phone, her fingers trembling as she dials. She quickly explains the situation to the operator and then rushes to find building security for additional help.

You gently shake Joshua, trying to rouse him. "Come on, Josh, wake up," you whisper urgently, but he remains still, his breathing shallow.

Minutes later, which feel like an eternity, the sound of sirens pierces the silence. The paramedics arrive, and you reluctantly let go of Joshua as they take over, assessing his condition and preparing to move him. You insist on riding with him to the hospital, unable to leave his side.

As the ambulance speeds through the city streets, you hold Joshua's hand, your heart pounding with worry. Outside the building, a few employees gather, watching the scene unfold with concern. You barely notice them, your focus entirely on Joshua, praying silently that he'll be okay.

You don't know exactly how many hours you've been by Joshua's side as he lies in the hospital bed. You watched the morning light grow brighter through the window, dozed off, woke up to find him still sleeping, went to the bathroom, and grabbed something from the cafeteria. When you return to his room, you see Joshua awake, a nurse measuring his blood pressure. An uncomfortable silence settles in as the nurse finishes up and leaves.

You sigh, walking next to him and turning your back to him.

"Are you mad at me?" Joshua asks, his voice still weak.

You shake your head, the words snapping out before you can stop them. "No, I'm letting you rest, since you don't do it yourself."

He sighs deeply, and you close your eyes, immediately regretting your harsh tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to give you this much trouble," he says softly.

You shake your head negatively, looking down. "I found you on the floor, Josh. The only reason I was there was because I forgot my keys. What if I hadn't come back?"

Joshua struggles, but he manages to reach out and catch your hand that is hanging by the bedside. His cold touch makes you glance at him. His eyes are full of exhaustion.

"Please, don't make me this worried again,"

Joshua squeezes your hand weakly. "I'll try, Y/N. I really will. I'm sorry for pushing myself so hard and for pushing you away. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten."

You nod "You don't have to do everything alone, you know. We're all here for you. I'm here for you."

He nods, his eyes glistening. "I know. And I appreciate it more than you know. I just... I need to find a better balance."

"Promise me you'll take it seriously this time," you say.

"I promise," he whispers, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit, weakly. "I'll take better care of myself."

You sit down next to him, your hand still in his. "Good. Because you can't go through that again."

You didn't like the rumors circulating around the office about Joshua while he was away. It bothered you to hear whispers about his collapse, especially since everyone in his department knew how hard he worked and yet pretended everything was fine.

As the days passed, Joshua's desk slowly filled with Post-it notes and snacks, contributions from you and other departments. Joshua's sudden health scare was a wake-up call, touching more hearts than just yours.

When Joshua returned today, Friday, you watched from your desk as he walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his desk. Messages of encouragement and little treats were piled high.

His face goes red as he glances around, catching the subtle glances of his coworkers. They quickly return to their tasks, but you see the corners of their mouths twitching with barely concealed smiles.

He worked at his desk, and his department members spared him from taking on too much. As the windows started to show the darkening sky, some people had already left to go home. Unlike regular Fridays, there was no happy hour planned for tonight.

Seungkwan approached Joshua's desk, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, Josh, you should really think about not doing extra hours today."

Joshua shook his head, "I'm going to take it easy for now…" a small smile formed as he looked at you. "Also, I have a happy hour for two tonight, so no extra hours."

As his friends gave you sly glances and teased you with their smiles, you felt your cheeks blush.

"Looks like someone's got a date," Seungkwan said, grinning.

How did you two end up on a date? It started in the hospital. Joshua was still recovering, lying in bed, holding your hand. The room was quiet, the noise from machines was the only sound.

"How can you forgive me?" he asked, his voice soft.

You shook your head, a gentle smile on your face. "I'm not mad at you, Josh. But it would be cool if you took a break every now and then. Maybe we could go to a happy hour someday."

Joshua licked his lips, still holding your hand and giving it a weak squeeze. He looked up at you, all flirty. "Would you be open to having a happy hour with just you and me?"

You blinked, shocked. "What?"

He blushed, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "Come on, it's so difficult for me to take a break. I'd love to have you as the motive for my breaks."

You scoffed, attempting to conceal the warmth that spread throughout your chest. "You should take breaks for your health and my sanity."

Joshua brushed his thumb against your hand, a playful grin grabbing at his lips. "Don't scold me, Y/N-nie, I'm sick," he teased.

You stared at him, a shocked smirk on your face. "You're taking advantage of me."

"Yes," he said, his smile growing. "Using the advantage, so you accept having an encounter with me."

The memory of that conversation makes you smile as you walk out of the office together, the evening air cool and refreshing.

"So, where are we going for this happy hour?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Joshua chuckles, his eyes bright with excitement. "I thought we could try that new restaurant around the corner. I've heard good things."

You nod, feeling the tension of the week melt away. "Sounds perfect."

As you both enter the bar, the atmosphere is lively but not unpleasant. You find a cozy corner table and settle in, the soft murmur of conversation and clinking glasses creating a comfortable backdrop.

Joshua looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else that makes your heart skip a beat. "Thanks for convincing me to take a break."

You smile, raising your glass. "To more breaks and less stress."

He clinks his glass against yours, a genuine smile on his face. "To more happy hours with you."

After dinner, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Joshua's car. The air is filled with a comforting silence, both of you soaking in the cozy warmth of the evening. As he pulls the car up in front of your house, you pause for a moment, your heart quickening in your chest as you struggle to gather the courage to look over at him.

Instead, you direct your gaze out the windshield, staring at the street ahead of you. The dim glow of streetlights paints the night in soft hues of orange, casting shadows on the quiet neighborhood.

"Do you want to come inside?" you ask, your voice hardly above a whisper.

Joshua turns your face toward his, his touch gentle as he lifts your chin with a soft touch. "You want me to go inside?" he enquires, his tone soft.

You nod, your gaze drawn to his mouth. "Yes."

"Then tell me," he teases, "what exactly are we going to do inside?"

You gulp, your mind racing. "We can... we can..." you stutter. You didn't have an answer on the tip of your tongue.

Joshua leans in close to you, his smile growing wider as he whispers against your skin, "I'm going to come inside, but go easy on me," he says, his breath warm and sultry, "I'm not quite recovered yet."

You shiver at his words. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice still low and quiet as you look up at him.

"What do you think I mean?" he replies with a smirk, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "I mean," he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your ear as he speaks, "that you might have to take it slow with me."

"Slow? How slow?" You're whispering, not because you're afraid of being loud, it's because you're so horny that your voice is strained.

Joshua's lips curve into a smirk as he sees the effect he's having on you.

"Slow," he whispers back, his voice low and seductive. "Slow to the point where you feel yourself starting to drip."

He closes the gap between you, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours as his hands slide up your hips.

"Are you sure you want me to come inside?" he asks, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

Your mind could only focus on the two last words. Mind foggy. "Come inside?"

Joshua widens his eyes slightly, then a cocky smile spreads across his face as he registers the double meaning of your words. "Hmm look at you, how nasty... I guess we can do this too..."

His lips crash against yours, no longer gentle but filled with urgency. His tongue delves into your mouth, exploring, tasting. You gasp, the wet noises so sultry inside his sleek car. His hands unclasp your seatbelt, and one slide from your knee to your thigh, slipping under your pencil skirt to feel the lacy panties you wore.

"Slowly, like this," he murmurs against your mouth, his voice too sultry.

His hand moves to the front of your panties, and you instinctively raise your hips as he pulls them down, discarding them onto the car's floor. The air inside the car starts to feel foggy, just like your senses, and your breathing becomes more rapid.

Joshua's hand returns to your now bare skin, his fingers teasing and exploring the wet folds of your pussy. You moan softly into his mouth, your body reacting to every touch. And slow, just like he said, he starts to circle your clit with his finger, making you instantly melt against the seat as you spread your legs wider for him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense, filled with fascination as he watches your reactions. Your mouth can't correspond to the wet kisses anymore, your hips roll against his hand, your legs spasm as you try to keep them open, and your skirt rises, revealing your sopping cunt glistening.

You find yourself pushed back against the seat, your body arching as you grow more desperate for him. His eyes never leave yours.

“I can feel how much you want this.”

You can only nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his fingers speed on your swollen bud.

“So open, so needy.” he murmurs making you feel that sharp stitch in your belly一your horniness growing.

His words make you moan, and he chuckles, his voice filled with a gloomy promise. “I want to hear more of that,” he says, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside. You cry out, your body responding instantly to his touch, your head thrown back.

“Joshua,” you gasp, your hands clutching at his shirt as you try to ground yourself.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Yes, Y/N? Tell me what you need.”

“More,” you manage to say, your voice trembling, “I need more.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a fiery intensity. “More? I can give you more.”

With that, he increases the pace, his fingers moving inside you making the squelching wet songs, louder. He watches you so closely that you feel embarrassed; it is as if he reads everything about you and knows every secret you keep.

“Every little touch, every little tease… you’re soaking it all up.” He coos, and you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer.

You can only whimper in response, your body trembling with the need for release. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him, the feel of him, it’s all too much, and you can sense that you are nearing collapse.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he whispers against your lips. “Let go.”

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, your body convulsing against his leather seat. Joshua holds you through it, his touch possessive, trying to keep you still so you can feel the waves better. As you come down from the high, you find yourself panting, your body still trembling non-stop.

His fingers are soaked, glistening in the pale light. With a teasing grin, Joshua brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a satisfied pop. You immediately turn your face to the window, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you try to straighten your skirt. His chuckle fills the car, rich and warm.

“Shy now, are we?” he teases, his voice low and playful.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, your hands fumbling with the fabric of your skirt. But Joshua isn’t done with you yet. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “We can resume this inside. What do you think?”

You nod, finally daring to meet his gaze. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping out of the car. You watch him circle around to your side, suppressing a laugh when he catches the glimpse of your knees trembling as you exit the vehicle.

“Did you get this horny?” he can't hide the amusement in his voice.

The walk to your front door feels like an eternity, your fingers fumbling with the keys as Joshua’s need becomes more apparent. He’s pressing his bulge against you, his hands roaming over your body as he kisses your neck, making it hard to focus on unlocking the door.

Finally, the door swings open, and you grab Joshua by the collar of his white shirt, pulling him inside. Your mouths collide in a desperate kiss, his hands clutching your hips as you stumble toward the bedroom. You don’t care about the noise or the awkward angles; all that matters is the friction among you, the urgent need to be closer.

With outstretched arms, you brace yourself against the wall, your body arching toward his as he presses against you. His hands are everywhere—sliding under your blouse, unhooking your bra, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. You moan into his mouth, your hands clutching at his hair while you're absorbed by the feeling.

“Bedroom,” you manage to gasp, your voice breathless and needy.

Joshua’s response is a low growl, his hands gripping your waist as he guides you through the hallway. You barely make it to the bed before you’re pulling at each other’s clothes, the fabric tearing in your haste to be free of it. His shirt falls to the floor, followed by your skirt, his pants, your blouse—until there’s nothing between you but skin and heat.

He pushes you gently onto the bed, his body covering yours as he kisses you sloppy. His hands continue their search, teasing, caressing, making you frantic with need. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his back as you pull him closer.

His cock lays heavily against your belly, a warm, wet spot forming on your skin from his precum. You grab his throbbing length, feeling it pulse under your touch. Joshua shudders, moaning needily against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and adding to your own arousal.

Your hand collects the sticky lubrication, spreading it along its entire length. You begin to stroke him, your other hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. His eyes flutter open, trying to stay locked on yours as you speed up your strokes. His gasps and whimpers alimented your hunger, making you feel yourself oozing more and more.

At a certain point, he lets out a high-pitched squeak, hiding his face in your neck. "I need to be inside you," he says, his voice strained and desperate.

You close your eyes, the heat of his breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Open this drawer," you murmur, nodding towards the bedside table.

Joshua extends his arm, fumbling slightly as he opens the drawer and finds a couple of condoms. He picks one up, glancing at you with a teasing smile. "Always prepared, huh?" he says, tearing open the shiny packet.

His hands move with such practiced ease that it makes your breath catch when you watch him slide the rubber down his length. His cock looks even more inviting now, sheathed and ready for you.

He positions himself at your entrance, pausing for a moment to look into your eyes. Slowly, he pushes inside, filling you inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, your pussy stretching to accommodate him. Joshua’s groan is deep and throaty, his hands gripping your hips as he bottoms out.

For a moment, neither of you moves, so you adjust to his side, but thankfully his fingers prepared you well in his car. Then, he begins to thrust, his pace is slow at first, his eyes locked on yours, watching every reaction, his ears alert to your every moan, and every wet sound from your stretched little cunt.

You arch your back, meeting his thrusts, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Faster, Joshua,”

He complies, his pace quickening, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The room is filled with the sex sounds—the slap of skin against skin, the mingled moans and gasps, the creaking of the bed. You feel yourself climbing higher, the knot on your belly desperately wanting to blossom.

Joshua’s rhythm falters for a moment, his grip on your hips tightening. “I’m close,” he whispers, his voice strained.

“Me too,” you reply, your nails digging into his back.

Joshua takes his cock out of you, positioning himself a little further back before slamming all the way in again. The sudden movement makes you grab his forearm, while his other hand lays on your belly. Each thrust is powerful, hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside you that makes you sob with pleasure. You grow tighter around him with every second, the stimulation driving you both wild.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

"Am I?" you manage to gasp between his thrusts.

"Absolutely," he praises, his words going straight to your core. "You're so tight, so wet. You're perfect for me."

The praise sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch your back and cum for him. Joshua smiles at the sight of you unraveling beneath him—Your legs try to close instinctively, but his hips keep them wide apart. Your eyes roll back, your pussy gushing as your fingers curl around the headboard.

He finds your clit with his thumb, rubbing it just as your orgasm peaks. It shatters you, making you curse.

"Fuck, Joshua! You're so deep... don't stop... please, don't stop. God, you're going to make me cum again."

"You're so fucking tight," he groans, his pace quickening. "I can feel you squeezing me. You're gonna make me cum so hard."

"Keep cumming for me, baby," he whispers, his own voice shaking.

His moans grow louder, his pace more frantic. Your dirty talk pushes him to the brink, and with a final, powerful thrust, he cums hard. His loud moaning, combined with the sensation of his cum filling the condom, makes your head spin.

Joshua leaves you shaking for the second time that evening, fully exhausted and completely satisfied.

Joshua falls on his side beside you, his breaths coming hard and fast. You can't help but tease him, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Are you going to faint here too? Should I call an ambulance? After all, you weren’t as slow as you said you would be."

He laughs, his chest heaving. "I’ve got enough energy to fuck you all night if you want to, leave your bed all drenched," he says, kissing your cheek and playfully slapping your clit, making you shudder.

"All night, huh?" you tease back, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. "Big talk for someone who just collapsed next to me."

Joshua grins, his eyes sparkling. "You doubt me?"

"I’m just saying," you reply, your tone playful. "Maybe you should pace yourself. I wouldn’t want you passing out on me."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I’m not going anywhere. And if you think that was all I’ve got, you’re in for a surprise."

You chuckle, your fingers dancing down his stomach. "Promises, promises," you whisper, your hand inching closer to his now half-hard cock. "Let’s see if you can keep up."

Joshua groans, his body responding to your touch. "You’re going to regret challenging me," he murmurs.

"Bring it on," you whisper back.

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golden-reverie · 6 days ago

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Burnt Out

Author’s note: Hello to anyone who sees this! I’m Elodie, 24, from the Midwest. I love to experiment with writing, and my guilty pleasure is anything to do with Harry Styles. I’ve been so inspired by all the amazing writers on here, so I finally decided to take a stab at something of my own. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: You’ve been running yourself ragged over a work project, and Harry isn’t having it.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: MDNI, spanking, punishment, fingering, pre-established dom/sub relationship, stern dom!harry, sub!reader, fem!reader, aftercare, all actions and dynamics are consensual

The soft glow of the laptop screen flickered against the walls, casting restless shadows in the dimly lit house. Y/N’s fingers danced over the keyboard, her eyes locked onto the cascading lines of code. Stray wisps of amber hair had escaped the messy bun atop her head, and she absently chewed on the end of a pen—an old habit from her college days. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of keys and the quiet hum of the laptop’s fan.

Harry lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with a mixture of concern and quiet frustration. The faint aroma of the dinner he’d prepared still clung to the air, a cruel reminder that she had once again skipped a meal in favor of work. Outside, the streetlights cast a soft, silver glow through the thin curtains, tracing ghostly patterns on the floor. Y/N remained wrapped in the world of her screen, completely oblivious to his presence.

He cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the hush like a blade. “Y/N, it’s late. You need to come to bed.”

She didn’t look up. “Just a few more minutes, Harry. I need to finish this.”

Harry sighed, raking a hand through his unruly curls. “You’ve been saying that for the last three hours. You need a break.”

This time, she did glance up—just long enough for him to catch the flicker of exhaustion in her gaze before she turned back to her work. “I can’t. This project is a big one. I have to get it done.”

Harry pushed off the door frame and strode toward her, his presence heavy, unyielding. A warm hand landed on her shoulder, grounding her. “You’ve been at this nonstop for weeks. You need to take care of yourself.”

She shrugged off his touch. “I will. Just not tonight.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not how this works, Y/N. You know the rules. You agreed to them.” His voice remained level, but there was an edge to it now, a quiet authority that she could no longer ignore. “Your body needs food, rest… You’ll burn out if you keep this up.”

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, but for the first time in hours, she hesitated. She exhaled slowly, her voice softer, but still laced with defiance.

“I just… need to finish this. Can’t you see that?”

Harry’s expression didn’t waver. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You can finish it tomorrow. During normal hours. Right now, you need sleep. I already let you skip dinner, and we both know that wasn’t the first meal you’ve ignored lately.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I’ve run out of patience, love.”

Y/N stilled. She understood the implication behind his words. Her breath hitched, cheeks heating.

“Harry, I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can.” His tone was gentle, yet immovable. “And you will.” With deliberate ease, he reached out and closed her laptop, the sudden silence deafening.

She finally looked at him, her eyes flashing with something between defiance and reluctant surrender. “You’re being over the top,” she muttered.

Harry smirked, tilting her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Maybe I am. But someone has to be.” His thumb brushed against her cheek, slow and deliberate. “You’re not taking care of yourself. And that’s not acceptable to me.” His voice was softer now, but it carried an unmistakable weight.

The air thickened, charged with something unspoken yet undeniable.

He took a step back, nodding toward the staircase. “C’mon. Up you get.”

Y/N hesitated for half a second before pushing up from her chair, her body drawn to his like a tide to the shore. As much as she wanted to argue, she knew he was right. This project had pushed her past her limits—late nights, skipped meals, unanswered texts and calls—Harry had let a lot slide. But tonight, that grace had run out. And now that she had been pulled from the blue-light-induced trance she had been under, she found herself grateful for his insistence.

As they ascended the stairs, a different kind of tension coiled low in her stomach. She knew exactly where this was going, and she could already feel the electricity crackling in the space between them.

Harry sat on the edge of their bed, his eyes steady as she hovered in the doorway. He extended a hand, beckoning her forward.

“C’mere,” he commanded.

She found her place in between his legs. His hands fell to her hips and slinked around to the soft flesh under her ass, holding her in place. She looked down at him, anticipating his next move.

“I think you have a pretty good idea of where this is headed, yeah?” His eyes held a quiet patience that stood in sharp contrast to the inevitable sentence looming over her head.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

Harry hummed in approval. “I’ve let a lot slide these past couple of weeks,” he said, tilting his head forward in search of her eyes. “I know big projects come up and that they sometimes get the better of our judgment. That’s just life. But you’re not doing yourself any favors by skipping meals and running on two hours of sleep each day… I know you know that.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders, fingers toying with the fabric of his shirt. A nervous habit.

He blows out a soft sigh, brushing his fingers against her skin, “I gave you plenty of chances to course-correct, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting perfection, but you’ve been running yourself into the ground, and that’s not something I can just overlook.”

She chewed her lip, her gaze flickering anywhere but his face. “I know. I’m sorry.” A frustrated breath escaped her lips, “It’s just… this project is important to me, and you know how cutthroat my coworkers can be. I can’t afford to fall behind.”

“I understand,” he says, lightly squeezing her flesh beneath his hands. “And I love how hard you work, but regardless, you know you can’t be on your A-game if you’re not taking care of yourself… That’s why we put these rules in place, remember? He moves his right hand up to her jaw in a silent command to meet his stare, “Because I love you and I care about you.” His voice was steady, eyes unwavering. “And sometimes you need a reminder to care about yourself, too. Yeah?”

She maintained eye contact this time, the guilt she had been trying to push aside settled heavily in her chest. “I love you too.” she mumbles, her voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t just an apology—it was an admission. She had ignored the rules, brushed aside her own well-being for weeks, and now the weight of it all felt like it was seeping out of her pores, pooling at his feet.

Harry lets his hand drop from her chin, his expression firm but not unkind. “And I appreciate that,” he says, his tone shifting, sharpening. “But you know the deal.”

It wasn’t necessarily a question, but she answered him, nonetheless.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alright, over my knee,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. He patted his thigh—a silent summons, firm and absolute.

Y/N hesitated for a moment. Not out of reluctance, but out of the sheer pleasure of the moment—this dance between them—the thrill of defiance followed by sweet surrender. She always wanted this, always needed this, and until right now; she hadn’t realized how much she’d been craving it.

He didn’t rush her. He never did. He simply waited, watching her with steady, knowing eyes. The weight of his gaze alone sent a shiver through her, anticipation thrumming beneath her skin. Taking a slow, measured breath, she finally relented, placing her hands on the mattress for balance as she draped herself over his lap.

He took a moment to admire the sight before him—the gentle arch of her back, the delicate vibration in her limbs, betraying her excitement. His hands smoothed over her spine, warm and comforting, a soothing contrast to the tension coiling inside her.

He could feel her trembling almost imperceptibly as she laid there—a quiet, unspoken longing bubbling up from her core. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings, peeling them down her legs with deliberate ease before tossing them aside.

His palms roamed over the swell of her ass, his touch featherlight, teasing. Y/N bit her lip, resisting the instinct to press her thighs together as he traced the lace trim of her panties, feeling her heat radiating through the delicate fabric. That alone nearly unraveled him. His cock strained painfully against his sweatpants, but he forced himself to linger in this moment—the exquisite torture of making her wait, of drawing it out until she was teetering on the edge.

His hands traveled upward, finding the hem of her shirt, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin beneath. He heard the small hitch in her breath, watched as goosebumps bloomed across her flesh. Slowly, agonizingly, he lifted the fabric, removing it from her body, letting the cool air kiss her bare back as she shivered in his grasp.

He towered over her, his presence commanding every ounce of her attention. His voice, low and unwavering, wrapped around her like a steel chain. “Is your work more important than your own health?”

Y/N inhaled sharply, steadying herself before she answered. “No, Sir.”

“And who decides when you’ve had enough?” His head tilted slightly, waiting—expecting.

His voice rumbled through her, a dark, velvety vibration that settled deep in her bones. Her breath hitched. “You do, Sir.”

A flicker of approval danced in his eyes. “Good girl.”

His palm ghosted over the curves of her ass, tracing gentle circles that did little to soothe the anticipation humming in her nerves. “I want you to count for me.”

She barely had a moment to brace herself before his hand left her skin—only to return with a sharp, resounding crack.

“One!” she gasped. But before she could stop herself, her right hand shot back instinctively, trying to shield herself from the sting.

Harry was faster. He caught her wrist effortlessly, pinning it against the small of her back. His fingers wove through hers, the delicate touch at odds with the firmness of his next words.

“You know better than that.” His voice carried a quiet, heavy disapproval that made her stomach flip. “We’re starting over. Every time you squirm, we’ll go back to one again. Understood?”

Y/N swallowed hard, resisting the urge to whimper. He meant business tonight. “Yes, Sir.”

The next blow landed just as hard.

“One, Sir.” This time, she tagged on the honorific—not required, but a subtle touch she knew he'd appreciate. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

Then came the next. And the next.

“Two, Sir… Three, Sir!” The quick succession stole the breath from her lungs, leaving her voice edged with both pain and something deeper, something needier.

He could feel it—the way her body responded, her skin flushing beneath his touch, heat rolling off her in waves. His palm burned against her flesh, but he reveled in it. He lived for this part: the slow, deliberate breaking down of everything but sensation.

By number twelve, the sharp slap landed against the tender flesh of her lower thighs, and she wailed, the sound raw and unfiltered. Tears pricked at the edges of her vision, but still, she forced the number past her lips.

Harry knew her body better than she did. He knew exactly how to unravel her, how to make her cry out first from frustration—then from sheer, unadulterated pleasure. He wanted her mind empty, consumed only by this, by him.

The next set of strikes sent waves of something heady through her, an intoxicating blend of pain and euphoria. Her breath stuttered. She barely managed to grunt out the numbers between each punishing impact, her body trembling, craving.

By the time he reached twenty-eight, her head had fallen slack against the bed, silent tears soaking into the duvet. This was the most Y/N had ever taken. Normally, he didn’t have to go past twenty before she surrendered completely, but tonight—tonight she had been stubborn. Each slap chipped away at the stress, the tension, the weight she had been carrying for weeks.

He felt the moment her body gave in. The way her fingers went limp in his grasp, her voice raw, spent. She wasn’t resisting anymore—just accepting.

“Thirty, Sir,” she sobbed, the words almost lost in the haze of exhaustion and relief. Then, softer still, “I’m sorry.”

Harry let his hand relax, fingers tracing slow, soothing circles over the heated expanse of her skin. Her body was still shaking, but not from pain. Not anymore. He knew she had slipped, drifting into that quiet, blissful space where nothing existed beyond the warmth of his touch and the safety of his presence.

And he wasn’t about to pull her out. Not yet.

For a long moment, the only sound was the steady rhythm of his palm smoothing over her, and the lingering, uneven sniffles escaping her lips. He let her breathe, let her be.

After a couple minutes, he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured, “You did so good baby. I’m proud of you.”

He pressed a few final, featherlight kisses along the curve of her lower back, his breath warm against her skin as he murmured, “Are you ready for me to check on you?”

He already knew the answer. Knew what he would find when his fingers slipped between her thighs. The anticipation sent a thrill down his spine as he let his hand drift lower, tracing the seam of her slick folds, drinking in the heat that seeped into his skin.

She was dripping.

Harry was hard beneath her, the evidence pressing insistently against her stomach, and he knew she could feel it too. But tonight wasn’t about him. Yes, she had broken the rules—deserved the punishment she had just endured—but more importantly, he wanted to strip away the weight she had been carrying. He wanted to unmake the stress that had hardened her and replace it with something softer.

His thumb found her clit, circling with just enough pressure to make her squirm, a broken whimper muffled against the duvet.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he praised, his voice a low hum of satisfaction.

“Just gonna make you feel good now, yeah?”

He slid a finger inside her, slow and deliberate, while his free hand threaded into her hair, stroking, grounding her.

Her nod was small, but he felt the way her body melted, giving in to his touch. Wetness seeped onto his thigh, further proof of how much she needed this—needed him.

He pushed a second finger inside, reveling in the way her walls clenched around him, her body trembling from the overwhelming sensations. With every stroke, he could feel her tension unraveling, her muscles slackening, the last remnants of restraint slipping away.

The world around him dissolved as his fingers curled inside her, seeking out the spot he knew would make her crumble. “You’ve been so good for me,” he whispered, his lips grazing the damp skin of her shoulder. “Took your punishment like a champ. Now, I want you to come for me. Just like this.”

Her skin tasted of sweat and salt, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.

Y/N was a paradox—a perfect blend of submission and defiance. As obedient as she was, that stubborn streak of hers ran just as deep, a constant challenge that kept him on his toes. But nights like this? When she surrendered completely, yielding every inch of herself to him without hesitation?

He savored it. Relished it. Worshipped it.

Because having all of her—mind, body, and soul—was a privilege he would never take for granted.

He studied her like an artist captivated by the final stroke of their masterpiece, burning the view into his memory—the flutter of her lashes as her eyes turned glassy, the flush that crept down her neck, the way her cunt clenched so tightly around his fingers as if trying to keep him there forever. He wanted to teach her to let go. To release all the anxiety, frustration, and exhaustion that had been suffocating her for far too long.

But he needed it to come from her—wanted her to own her pleasure as much as he did—to know that she was worthy, desired, loved.

Harry’s fingers slid deeper, moving with deliberate slowness as they arched just right, pressing against the spot that had her moaning, her body instinctively grinding against his palm. Her face was buried in the duvet, eyes squeezed shut as she gasped, overwhelmed by the rush of sensations flooding through her.

“Come on, Y/N. Let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice dripping with filthy promise.

Her body tensed, and he knew he had her. She trembled on the precipice before the dam broke. A shattered moan tore from her lips as pleasure ripped through her, muscles spasming in tight, rhythmic waves. The heat of her release coated his figures, and he didn’t stop—not yet.

He worked her through it, his thumb never relenting from the steady, precise strokes against her clit. He wanted everything. Wanted to hear her cry out for him, to watch the pleasure drag her under until she had nothing left to give.

And under she went.

Her cries turned breathless as the last tremors wracked her body, her limbs going boneless beneath his touch. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, smirking at the needy little whimper she made at the loss. He soothed the ache with soft strokes along her trembling thighs, grounding her as she came back down.

“Atta girl, sweetheart,” he cooed, voice laced with satisfaction. “That feel good?”

A slow, exhausted nod was all she could manage. As the haze of pleasure lifted, she became aware of everything at once—the damp strands of hair sticking to her nape, the tingling in her limbs, the lingering warmth radiating from her backside.

But nothing could pull her back to reality quite like his voice.

“Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?”

***

Water cascaded from the shower head in silken ribbons, a warm, soothing contrast against the cool tile. Steam curled in the air, thick and languid, blurring the edges of the room until it felt like they existed in their own private universe. The scent of eucalyptus clung to the mist, wrapping around them like an embrace.

Harry held Y/N close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, the quiet strength of him anchoring her. Her head rested against his collarbone, the sound of his heartbeat a calming metronome against the storm that had been raging inside her for weeks.

His hands moved slowly over her damp skin, drawing soothing circles along her spine, his thumbs tracing the delicate ridges of her back. She shivered—not from the cold, but from the contrast of sensations: the warmth of the water, the cool air beyond it, the roughness of his calloused fingers against the softness of her flesh.

She tilted her head up, meeting his gaze through the water’s shimmering veil. Her lips were parted, her lashes heavy, surrender written in every line of her expression. Harry felt something deep and primal stir in his chest.

With a lingering kiss, he turned her around, his fingers threading through her hair as he worked the shampoo into a gentle lather. His touch was reverent, a contradiction of tenderness and strength, his large hands cradling her head with the kind of care that made her stomach flutter. She sighed softly, melting into the sensation as she rested against his muscled body, her small noises of contentment filling the air like music.

When the last suds had been rinsed away, Harry reached past her to shut off the water, the sudden absence of sound leaving them in an intimate hush. Without hesitation, he grabbed the towels he had set out earlier, wrapping her in one before she could feel the bite of the air. He took his time drying her off, the plush fabric gliding over her sensitive skin like a gentle breeze, coaxing a soft sigh from her lips. Then, with the same quiet devotion, he slipped one of his t-shirts over her head, the oversized fabric swallowing her smaller frame.

As Y/N moved through the final steps of her skincare routine, Harry retrieved a bottle of lotion from the cupboard across the room. He approached her with the grace of a shadow, gently tapping her on the bum.

“When you’re done, I want you to lay on the bed on your tummy. Ok?” His voice a smooth, honeyed command.

She finished up and did as she was told, sinking into the mattress, her head resting on her folded arms. Her damp hair spread across the silk pillow like a river of dark water, cool and smooth against the fabric.

The bed dipped beneath his weight, and she heard the soft sound of lotion being smoothed between his hands. A moment later, the hem of her shirt lifted, and his warm palms met the tender skin of her backside. Y/N sighed deeply, the coolness of the lotion a welcome relief to the heat lingering from earlier. His hands moved with slow, deliberate strokes, massaging away the sting, his fingers tracing the curves of her body with intimate familiarity.

The room was quiet, save for the rustle of sheets and the steady rhythm of their breathing. Y/N felt herself unraveling beneath his touch, sinking into the present moment, leaving behind the weight of the stress that had knotted itself into her muscles. He always knew how to bring her back—how to pull her from the depths of her mind and remind her that she didn't have to handle everything on her own.

When he was finished, he leaned down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the delicate skin there.

“How do you feel?” His voice was a low murmur against her ear, thick with warmth and something deeper—something unspoken but understood.

Y/N swallowed, taking a moment to gather her words. “I—I feel good, Sir,” she admitted, her voice still laced with the remnants of pleasure and submission. “Still a little out of it… but good.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “I’m glad for the punishment. I really needed that.”

She shifted to sit up, and he caught her chin between his fingers, maneuvering her head to face him.

Harry’s lips curved into a soft smile, his thumb tracing slow, reassuring patterns along her cheek. “You did well tonight. You know that, right? M’proud of you.”

The weight of his words settled over her like a blanket—warm, protective, unwavering. She smiled softly into his touch.

A beat of silence stretched between them before he spoke again. “When you feel like things are spiraling, I need you to know you can come to me.”

Then, without waiting for a response, he leaned in and kissed her. It was slow and deliberate, filled with everything he didn’t need to say—everything he had already proven.

When she finally pulled away, her voice was softer, more certain. “I do know that. And I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. It’s… a habit, shutting people out when I’m stressed. But regardless, you didn’t deserve that.”

Harry exhaled a quiet laugh, “Yes, I’m well aware of that habit of yours, which we’ll crack one day. But in the meantime, you can push all you want, sweetheart. Unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She giggled, letting him pull her into his chest. “On the contrary. Very fortunate for me,” she corrected, her voice tinged with affection.

He grinned, maneuvering the covers so she could slide beneath them. Reaching over, he switched off the lamp on his bedside table, casting the room into a velvety darkness.

As Y/N melted into him, the last of her tension slipping away, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered against his skin, finally surrendering to the quiet lull of sleep’s embrace.

...

Ahhh! Kind of out there for my first post but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Hope you enjoyed!

452 notes · View notes

girlsforxiao · 26 days ago

Text

⎯ Listen to me ꒰ 𐙚 ꒱

⌢ ꒰੭. Jude bellingham x fem reader 𐙚 porn with plot, smut (mdni) fingering, creampie, jealous/makeup ?? sex

You and Jude are peacefully spending the last of his off days together until your ex calls...

︴a/n: I don't like this but I was inspired by this one post (ill link if I find, edit: found it ) so here it is <33 not proofread! Eng not my first language!

WC: 3K

The dim glow of candlelight bathed the table in warmth, casting shadows that flickered across Judes features. You sat across from him, your laugh soft and melodic, the kind of sound that always seemed to settle something restless in his chest.

“You’re really gonna eat all of that?” he teased, nodding at the plate of pasta you were twirling expertly with your fork.

You shot him a mock glare, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I’m hungry, sue me.”

Jude leaned back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face as he watched you. You were stunning, your hair catching the light, eyes sparkling in that way that always made him forget everything else.

Tonight felt easy. Right.

And then your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen and froze for half a second—just long enough for Jude to notice. “I should get this,” you said, already sliding your chair back.

“Right now?” he asked, eyebrows raising slightly.

“It’ll just take a minute,” you assured him, giving his hand a quick squeeze before stepping away from the table.

Jude watched you retreat, the sway of your dress as you moved toward the quieter edge of the restaurant. You brought the phone to your ear, expression shifting, softening in a way that made something in his stomach tighten.

The candlelight between them flickered, suddenly feeling dimmer.

He couldn’t hear much from where he sat, just the low hum of your voice. You laughed at something, head tilting to the side, the smile on your lips beautiful, easy, familiar.

Jude’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to look away, staring at the glass of wine in front of him instead. It was nothing, he told himself. People had exes. It wasn’t a big deal.

But his eyes betrayed him, snapping back to you as you shifted your weight, playing with a strand of hair behind your ear while the conversation stretched on.

When you finally returned to the table, sliding back into your seat, Jude gave you a small, tight smile.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his tone even, casual.

You simply nodded, setting the phone down face-up between them. “Yeah, just an old friend catching up.”

“Friend?” he echoed, leaning forward slightly.

You hesitated—barely, but he caught it. “My ex,” you quietly admitted with a shrug, like it was nothing. “We’re still on good terms.”

Jude nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to your phone. Good terms. Right.

He wanted to let it go, he really did, but the image of your smile while on the call refused to leave his mind.

The candlelight between you two seemed colder now, the distance across the table suddenly feeling much larger than it had just moments ago.

Jude leaned against the counter of your kitchen, sipping his coffee as you perched on the stool across from him. Scrolling through your phone, lips curved into a faint smile, the kind that usually made his heart skip.

But tonight, it wasn’t for him.

“Something funny?” he asked, keeping his tone light, casual.

You glanced up briefly. “Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. Just—” the phone buzzed again, and you cut yourself off, thumbing the screen quickly to reply.

Jude loved you, he knew you loved him. You were his everything. You two have been together for a while now, you both knew eachother families and friends. But there was something deep in his spirit that was telling him to be cautious.

He watched you for a moment, the way your fingers danced over the keyboard, the way your smile lingered even after the message was sent. The coffee in his mug had gone cold, but he barely noticed.

“Who’s that?” he asked playfully, or atleast tried to, already knowing the answer.

You glanced at him, expression almost guilty before you tucked the phone away. “It’s just James,” you said, tone airy, dismissive.

James. The ex. Judes’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, keeping his face neutral. “He texts you a lot,” he said, an observation more than an accusation.

You frowned slightly, playing with a strand of hair behind your ear. “He’s going through a rough patch with his family,” you said. “We’re just friends, Jude. You know that.”

“Sure,” he said, setting the mug down with a little more force than necessary. “I mean, I’d text my ex too if I needed... emotional support.”

Your eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Jude, it’s not like that. I know his family”

He pushed off the counter, running a hand over his shoulder. Habit. “Right. Of course not.”

It wasn’t just the texts.

You two were at your favorite diner a few days later, the last of Judes days off spent together.

But later, James showed up.

You spotted him first, face lighting up in a way that made Jude's stomach sink.

“James?” you called, waving him over before Jude could react.

He watched, stiff and silent, as James sauntered over, his easy grin making Jude ’s eyes roll.

“There you are,” James said, leaning in for a hug that lingered just a second too long. “It’s been a while.”

Jude forced a tight smile as James turned to him, extending a hand. “Jude. I'm more of an Atletico guy but you're incredible, great to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Jude said, gripping Jame's hand maybe a little harder than necessary. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

James laughed, settling into the booth beside Eve like he belonged there. “All good things, I hope.”

Jude didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as Simon and Eve fell into easy conversation, laughing about some inside joke he didn’t understand. He tried to focus on his food, on the soft hum of the diner, but all he could hear was the sound of bitter laughter.

He's worth millions of euros, he's played in some of the biggest stadiums, shaked hands with unimaginable stars across football but this James guy made him feel inexplicably small.

He knows he shouldn't feel this way. If James really was going through something, you were just being you. Helpful, loyal, kind. A fraction of reasons as to why he loved you. But he couldn't shake this weird feeling, maybe it was the athlete in him, used to trusting his gut.

By the time you both got back to your apartment, Jude's patience was hanging by a thread.

“Do you really not see it?” he asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

You frowned, kicking off your shoes by the door. “See what?”

“James,” he said, the name tasting bitter in his mouth. “He’s not just ‘an old friend,’ he wants you back.”

You sighed, walking closer to him, the pout on his face cute but it is not the time. “You’re overreacting, Jude”

“Am I?” he shot back, his frustration spilling over. “Because he seems pretty comfortable showing up wherever we are, calling you, texting you like he’s still—”

“Still what?” You interrupted, voice rising. “We’re friends. He's going through something. That’s it. You’re reading too much into this.”

Jude let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Right. I’m just the jealous boyfriend who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Before you could respond he walked away. Plopping himself on your couch, flicking through shows to watch.

The words hung in the air between the two of you, heavy and final, and for the first time in a long time, Jude didn’t know what to say.

Just two days left before Jude had to fly back to Madrid, he knew he had to hit the gym. Keep himself sane.

Jude's breath came in sharp bursts as he slammed the punching bag again, the thud of his fists echoing in the empty room. Sweat dripped down his temple, and his knuckles stung, but he didn’t stop. Not yet.

Jame's face kept flashing in his mind. The easy smile, the familiar way he leaned into your space, the way your laugh seemed brighter when she was around him.

Jude growled low in his throat, landing another brutal hit on the bag. He replayed the moments in his mind— the way Jame's eyes lingered on you when you weren't looking, the subtle flirtation in his tone, the way he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.

Jude hit the bag again, harder this time, the chain creaking under the force.

“You alright, man?” one of the trainers called from across the room.

Jude sheepishly chuckled– snapping out of it, stepping back and shaking out his hands. “Yeah! More of a legs guy, guess I didn't know my own strength." He joked, moving towards the bench behind him.

For a moment, he considered confronting you, laying it all out, telling you exactly what he saw and how he felt. But the memory of the last argument lingered, you thought he was overreacting.

Was he?

Jude scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the heavy weight pressing down on him. If he wasn’t careful, his emotions would push you away.

But if he did nothing, if he just stood by and let that prick worm his way back into your heart...

Jude's jaw tightened. No. That wasn’t going to happen.

He stood, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. He needed a plan. Something to clear his head. Something to remind you—remind James—exactly who you belonged to.

Jude leaned back on the couch, arm draped over your shoulders as a movie played in the background. His focus wasn’t on the screen, though—not when your laughter bubbled softly from beside him. It was the kind of night he loved, just the two of you.

Then your phone buzzed.

You grabbed it, glancing at the screen. Jude caught the faint flicker of hesitation before you answered.

“Hey,” you said, tone lighter, warmer than he expected.

Jude’s eyes rolled as he heard the unmistakable voice on the other end. James.

You shifted slightly, body turning away from Judes as you spoke into the phone, your voice soft, almost playful. “Yeah, no, it’s fine. What’s up, everything okay?”

He tried to ignore it, eyes fixed on the TV, but every word exchanged felt like a needle under his skin. When the call ended, you set the phone down and gave him a small smile, but he didn’t return it.

“Really?” he asked, his voice calm but edged.

“Right, they always end up picking the house that's bound to be haunted,” You said, gesturing towards the screen.

“True– but I mean, James. Again.”

"Here you go, reading too much into things, can we just enjoy the movie?"

“You’re so fucking annoying,” he breathed suddenly, as he moved on top of you “I’m reading too much into this? Seriously?”

You felt heat rise in her chest, your confusion bubbling over into anger. And an odd sensation between your thighs now that he hovered over you. The sudden movement really making you look at him.

“I’m being annoying? You know what, Bellingham? Maybe James should—”

Before you could finish his lips hungrily chased yours, you almost instantly forgot why you were heating up but gently you lay your hand against his chest, a weak attempt to push him off.

When he broke the kiss you let out a quiet whine, he picked up on it and smirked while sitting back and (unfortunately) climbing off of you. But it was too late, you changed your mind, you need him. You could care less about James. This movie was too predictable anyway.

"I'm sorry– it's just you don't fucking listen,'" he breathed as you straddled his lap. It was your turn to be on top of him.

“You don’t trust me now? Is that what this is about?” you whispered, your desperation met with deep brown eyes.

“It’s not about you,” he murmured, his voice tight and raspy from the kiss. “It’s about that fucking prick. About the way he looks at you, like he thinks he still has a shot. Like he doesn’t care that you’re my girl. My everything."

“I fucking hate sharing you,” he said softly, “Even a little bit. Even for a moment. I want you all to myself. Sorry."

Your voice catches a gasp as his lips glide down your throat. Involuntarily your body presses against his, warmth rushing to your cheeks. "Don't be sorry...James is..."

His hands start to slowly roam your body, earning gasps from you as your back arches, legs tightening around him. Your body sinfully reacting to his touch.

“Jude, he's not...”

“Shh,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your neck, sending tiny shivers through your body every time he speaks.

“Shh. Be good. Listen to me.”

His hands snake towards your shorts, fingertips like fire against your skin. His lips graze a tender spot just above your collarbone, causing heat to bloom between your thighs, you want to scream.

"Why are you so annoying?" He sighed as he pulled your shorts down then your underwear, fondling your ass as you moaned, at a lose for words, "Jude..."

"I'm going back to train soon and you've been spending all your time with him?" His hand moving between your folds. His fingers moving in slow lazy circles over your clit, your face drops to the crook of his neck,

"Could he make you feel like this?"

You shook your head almost violently, "Jude– nghh! Please..." He smirked—not something you could hear, but something you felt, soft and electric against your skin.

He traced a finger between your folds, taking note of how wet you were. He's barely touched you. "I hope this wetness," he slips a finger inside, "Is for me." Your body jolts like a surge of electricity has ran through you.

You whimper, an intense knot forming in your stomach. Your legs began to tremble as your pussy is stretched around the second finger, you kissed him, sloppy and wet. Afraid of the vulgarity that was about to escape your lips if you didn't keep your mouth occupied. His long fingers started thrusting in and out of you and you couldn't take it.

"Jude I'm gonna—!" before you knew it you'd drenched his hand in your release, panting heavily as you gaze at him. His eyes now half lidded looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.

For a moment you just stare at eachother then he went in for another kiss, starting off soft but quickly turning hungry, wet.

You felt his hand move around beneath your legs then you realized he'd taken his shorts off too, "You'll take me like a good girl, yeah?" But before you could answer he plunged inside of you, instantly you clenched around him, Jude wasting no time bucking into your wet pussy.

You rock your hips, Jude tries to suppress his moans but he too has been lost to lust, both of you filling your living room with moans of pleasure and the sounds of harsh slapping skin. You catch his stare, intense and searing, as if he’s memorizing every detail of you. The way you whimpered for him, the way your breath trembled against his skin...

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, then you feel the knot in your stomach again, tighter this time. Through the squelches and grunts you cry, "Ohmygod Judejudejude 'mgonna come, fuck–" he cut you off with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Be quiet–" he grunts out followed by a thrust that makes your eyes shoot open.

Thick streams of cum burst in you, your arms weakly curling around him for support. As both your breaths steadied, he gently helped you off him. Juices still oozing out of you.

He cleaned you up with care and handed you a fresh pair of underwear and shorts. The room had fallen into a quiet, peaceful stillness, save for the faint hum of the night outside and the movie credits rolling on the tv.

Jude leaned back against the couch, his chest still rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. You now rested against him, your head on his shoulder, hand tracing idle patterns over his chest.

Neither of you spoke for a long time, the earlier tension between you both had softened now, replaced by something warm.

Jude was the first to break the silence, his voice low and hesitant. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

You tilted your head to look at him, fingers pausing against his skin. “For what? or is this post-nut clarity?” you joked, earning a 'hey!' from him.

“No seariously, for… losing it back there,” he admitted, his brown eyes focused on the ceiling as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze. That's why he was looking at you so much during sex. It was easier. “I shouldn’t have let it get to me like that.”

You frowned, propping yourself up slightly to look at him more directly. “Jude, you were upset. It’s okay to feel that way.”

“But I didn’t listen, neither did you but,” he said, his tone heavy with regret. “I let my jealousy get the better of me instead of trusting you like I should have.”

You sighed softly, your hand moving to his cheek to guide his gaze back to yours. “You’re allowed to feel jealous, Jude. I get it. I should’ve seen how all this was affecting you sooner. My words of post-nut clarity, if you will.” you giggled.

His lips twitched into a smile, you werent sure if it was at your lame joke though. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s just… I know how these things can go. How people can linger where they’re not wanted. And I guess… I don’t want to lose you to someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said softly, leaning in to press you forehead against his. “James is my past, Jude. You’re my present—and my future.”

He closed his eyes at your words, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as he wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you even closer. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” he whispered.

"There is something else though," he said and you looked at him again, "Hm?"

"Do you have a thing for the letter 'J'?"

You smiled against his skin, your voice lightening as you teased, “Maybe."

PLEASE REBLOG IF U LIKED THIS...MWAH <3

#jude bellingham #jude #jude imagine #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #smut #football imagine #football x reader #football smut #levi colwill x reader #fanfic #MARS LOVES YOU 🧁#dream situation

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lvly20 · 1 month ago

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-`♡´- Acts of love -`♡´-

: ̗̀➛ Enhypen members showing acts of love

Pairing: ot7 x fem!reader

Genre: a lot of fluff, established relationships

Warnings: mild kissing, lot of skinship in jake’s

Authors note: this is my first fic, so I hope y’all will like it, also requests are open<3

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⭒ Heeseung ⭒

Shows his love through words; for example writing you songs.

You walk through the door of your shared apartment and are once again greeted by darkness and familiar silence. It didn't come as a surprise to you that Heeseung once again would be spending the evening at the studio producing songs for the group. You let out a sigh as you remove your shoes and walk into the quiet apartment, you were of course proud of Heeseung when it came to what he was doing with music and the group but you couldn’t help but long for an evening with him instead of him coming home around midnight sneaking into bed trying not to wake you. You walk forward to your and Heeseung’s bedroom so you can change out of your clothes but stop in your tracks when you see the closed door.

"Hee?" you call out as you know neither you nor Heeseung ever closes the door when you leave in the morning.

You slowly open the door until you see light creeping out of the crack you've created, and then you open the door fully. You're met with the warm light of the candles set up around the bedroom and the sweet aroma coming from them. Altough what really catches your attention, however, is Heeseung sitting behind a keyboard in front of the bed.

Your gaze wanders around the room, confusion settling in as a gasp escapes your lips.

“I- what is all this?” You look back forward Heeseung.

“I have a surprise for you,” he says, as he motions for you to sit down on the bed.

His excitement is unmistakable as he observes you settling onto the edge of the bed, making you chuckle lightly.

"I've been putting together a little something for you over the past few weeks" he says with a cheeky grin, his fingers dancing across the keyboard quietly.

"I know I've been spending a lot of nights at the studio, but I really hope what I've got out of it will make up for it..." You notice a hint of hesitation when he brings up his absence, and you wait for him to continue.

He lets out a small chuckle and says “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve been working on a song for you, and I’d like to play it to you… if you’d like that?” You see the tip of his ears turn a slight shade of pink and you can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you.

“Of course I’d like to hear it, Hee” you scoot closer to the edge of the bed and look at him with a gentle smile.

You can tell he’s feeling a bit anxious but he returns your smile and clear his throat. His gaze turns to the keyboard and he positions his fingers.

“I hope you’ll like it”.

As he starts playing your heart thumps loudly in your chest. Sure, Heeseung has always been a romantic, but you’d never imagine he’d ever write a love song for your ears only. You can’t help the tears that spill over as you hear him play so beautifully and how the lyrics are so perfectly written.

As the song comes to an end, you find yourself unable to hold back a sniffle. Heeseung stands up and approaches you, kneeling down in front of you.

”I know I’m not always the best at telling you how I feel so I thought I’d tell you through a song… and I hope your tearing up because you liked it and not because it was the worst thing you’ve ever heard” Heeseung chuckles as he gently wipes away a tear from your cheek.

You giggle and shove him slightly. “It’s the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard” you let out before you press a kiss to his lips.

Heeseung grins against your lips before kissing you again. “Good, because it’s all for you.

•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•

⭒ Jay ⭒

Shows his love through actions, such as giving gifts or doing something for them.

The stress from the week weights heavily on your shoulders as you walk through the door to your and Jay’s shared apartment. You let out a weary sigh as you go to remove your jacket when something catches your attention- a small, beautifully wrapped box that sits on the drawer beside the door, and only then do you also pick up on the soft music playing in the distance.

“Jay?” You call out as you remove your shoes and pick up the box.

You hear soft footsteps approach and soon Jay comes into view.

“Hi, darling” he greets warmly with his signature smile lightning up his face

“Hi… What’s this?” You ask, holding up the box as Jay comes closer.

“Open it and see” he says as he kisses your temple.

You give him a suspicious look as you read the small note wrapped onto the box: “for you, just because”. A smile brings it’s way on your face and you glance at him before you start to carefully unwrap the gift. At the sight of the gorgeous diamond necklace inside you gasp.

“It’s so beautiful” you murmur, looking up at him with wide eyes. “But… why?”.

“Come with me” he answers, his tone secretive but gentle as he takes your hand. He leads you to the dinner table where you once again let out a gasp. The table is set with your favorite meal, with glasses of your favorite wine beside gleaming in the warm glow of the candles he’s lit.

“Jay…” You whisper, turning to look at him in awe. “What is all this?”.

He grins slightly as he reaches for the necklace in your hand. “I know works been hard on you lately, so I wanted to do something to help you relax” he answers, his voice low and sincere.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble…” you protest, as he moves behind you to clasp the necklace around your neck. “Just being here with you is enough”.

“I know” he murmurs against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “But you deserve this… and so much more” his fingers brush softly against your skin as he readjust the necklace, then he turns you around to press a kiss softly to your lips.

”Now” he says, guiding you to a chair and pulling it out for you. “sit down and let me take care of you tonight”.

As you settle into your seat, you see him take a seat in front of you across the table, and your heart swells with love at the sight of him and you ask yourself how you got so lucky.

“Thank you for this” you say softly, your eyes brimming with affection.

He shakes his head, a glint of love in his eyes. “Don’t thank me. Like I said, you deserve this, my love”.

⭒ Jake ⭒

Shows his love through physical touch, a way of making sure you feel his love and care.

The air feels slightly colder as you stretch, your head still foggy from just have woken up. You open your eyes and squint as they adjust to the morning light. A smile spreads across your face once your ears pick up on the soft sound of your boyfriend’s breathing.

You try to turn over, but his arms are wrapped tightly around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

You let out a quiet giggle as your movements stirs him. He groans slightly and instinctively tightens his hold around you.

“It’s too early. Go back to sleep” he murmurs with his groggy, sleepy voice, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“It’s 9 am, Jake” you giggle as you once again try to turn around, this time successful as you’re greeted by the sight of your half-asleep boyfriend.

You can’t help but smile as you look at him. His hair is disheveled and his lips are slightly pouty as he continues trying to sleep.

“You know” he mutters, his voice tinged with amusement. “I can feel you staring” a grin tugs at the corners of his lips.

You scoff playfully and close your eyes. “I’m not staring” you protest, pouting. But your eyes flutters open when you feel a pair of soft lips on yours.

You’re met with his brown, deep eyes as he smirks at you. “It’s okay” he says, tone teasing. “I like when you look at me”. His hand glides along your back, sending warmth through you.

Your face feels warm but you can’t bring yourself to care- not when he looks at you so intensely.

“I love waking up next to you” he whispers, his right thumb making circles against your skin.

A fond smile spreads across your face. “ I love waking up next to you too, Jake” you reply, your voice tender. You then move your left hand to the side of his face , your fingers tracing his jaw with tenderness. “You make me so happy”.

Jakes smile softens, his eyes filled with warmth as he pulls you even closer. “I love holding you”, he murmurs, burying his face into your neck. “You’re so warm” he adds, his words muffled against your skin as you feel shivers move through your body.

A giggle leaves you as his lips brush along your jaw. “Jake… it tickles” you laugh, squirming slightly.

“Hmph… I don’t care. I like kissing you” he answers, his voice playful as he peppers more kisses along your jawline, before moving up to your cheek, making you laugh more.

Finally, he pulls back to look into your eyes. His gaze is deep and filled with emotion. “I love you, you know” he says, his fingers tracing your back.

Your heart swells, and you smile at him, your voice soft as you reply, “I love you too, Jake”. You lean closer so you can wrap your arms around him, relishing in his warmth.

Jake holds onto you tightly, once again burying his face into the crook of your neck, as the two of you stay wrapped in each other’s embrace.

⭒ Sunghoon ⭒

Shows his love in a subtle and quiet way trough meaningful gestures, such as remembering small details.

Sunghoon opens the door to the restaurant for you, and you smile warmly at him before stepping inside. The restaurant is dimly lit and the scent of food quickly envelops your senses. You feel the warmth of sunghoon’s hand resting against your back as the waiter guide you to your table.

Once the waiter leaves sunghoon pulls out your chair for you and you give him a soft thank you before you settle into your chair. You watch as sunghoon walks around the table and sit down across from you.

Your eyes wander around the area and a smile forms on your lips. “It’s so nice here” you say, your fingers lightly tracing the utensils neatly wrapped in a napkin on the table.

Sunghoon nods, a grin tugging on his lips. “I’ve been meaning to bring you here since I saw that it opened, but work has been stressful…” he trails off, guilt flickering in his expression.

You reach over and grab his hand that he had resting on the table in yours and rub his knuckles with your thumb.

“It’s okay” you reassure him, your voice soft. “We’re here now, that’s all that matters to me… besides,” you continue, a playful glint in your eye. “It’s nice to see you looking so relaxed” you tease and he lets out a chuckle and his smile returns.

“Well, that’s because you’re here with me” he says as he winks at you. The warmth of his words makes you feel heat up your neck.

The evening unfolds effortlessly, filled with conversations, laughter and heartfelt moments. After finishing dessert Sunghoon reaches for something in his pocket. You follow his movements with a curious gaze and give him a questioning look once he offers you a neatly wrapped square gift.

“What’s this?” You chuckle softly as you take it in your hand.

Sunghoon simply smiles and nods for you to open it.

You feel slightly nervous as-well as excitement as you start to unwrapped it and then you gasp.

Inside is a bracelet, with a sunflower charm on it.

“Hoon,” you breathe, your voice full with awe. “This is beautiful” you continue as you carefully take it out of the box, admiring the intricate details. “And a sunflower” you gleam as you meet his eyes.

He looks at you with soft eyes, his love for you shining through. “I remember you told me on our first date that you used to have a bracelet like this when you were younger but that you lost it. So i found this and it’s obviously not the same thing but-“.

You interrupt him before he says more, while smiling brightly. “It’s perfect! I can’t believe you’d remember that”. You reach over and squeeze his hand gently. “Thank you so much, I love it”.

Sunghoon smiles at you before he chuckles slightly. “I might have to start calling you my sunflower now” you let out a giggle at this.

“Mm, then I’ll have to come up with a nickname for you too” you replay with a grin.

As you walk home from the restaurant hand in hand, the night cold, Sunghoon lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it and then he looks at the bracelet on your wrist. “It really suits you” he says softly, with adoration before he pulls you in.

You smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, that’s because i got it from someone special” you whisper against his lips.

Sunghoon’s smile is radiant and brimming with love, before he leans in to capture your lips in a soft, heartfelt kiss.

⭒ Sunoo ⭒

Shows his love through compliments, he wants you too feel special.

It’s late at night, and you and Sunoo is cuddled up on the couch with a cozy blanket draped around the two of you, creating a feeling of comfort. The dim lights the room is bathed in makes the scenery warm and intimate. Leaning against his chest, you let out a laugh at the comedy movie you’d been so excited to see all week.

Unbeknownst to you, Sunoo’s gaze has shifted from the screen to you. He watches you intently, captivated by the way your laughter lights up your face. Your eyes glimmer with joy and your dimples make a subtle yet irresistible appearance- and he knows it’s his new favorite sight in the world.

“You know” he starts, his voice steady.

Your laughing pauses as you turn to face him.

“Hm?”

”I don’t think you realize how beautiful you are when you laugh like this” he says, his eyes filled with tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Caught off guard you look up at him while a blush creeps onto your cheeks.

“Stop…” you mumble, trying to brush it off as your face gets warmer.

Although this only makes him lean in closer to you and take a hold of your face, holding it like it’s fragile.

“I’m serious” he says as he strokes your cheek softly. “The way your face lights up when you’re happy- it’s my favorite thing about you. You have this way of making every moment I spend with you feel special, like, I never have a moment I don’t treasure with you”.

Your heart swells as the warmth lingers on your cheek and with it a strange, indescribable warmth blooms inside you. You try to come up with a reply but the feeling of his sincerity has left you speechless.

“And it’s not only when you laugh, it’s everything you do. You’re kind, funny, beautiful, smart… you’re everything I could ever want and so much more” he says with love filled eyes.

“Sunoo” you sniffle as your eyes well up with tears and your voice trembles.

Sunoo brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch so gentle you feel yourself shiver.

”I love you” he says, his voice firm but filled with emotions. “With all that I am. I hope you see how amazing and special you are”.

A tear runs down your cheek as he’s soft finger wipes it away. You sniffle softly before you speak, “I’m so in love with you, sunoo.” You move your lips to his hand that’s on your cheek and kisses his palm.

You let out a soft chuckle as he smiles at you his expression filled with nothing but adoration. Your gazes lingers in each others and as if drawn by an invisible force the two of you lean closer.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispers before his lips meet yours in a kiss that feels so different then all the others you’ve shared with him. It’s so full of love and it leaves you breathless while your thoughts only revolve around the person before you.

⭒ Jungwon ⭒

Shows his love through acts of service; for example helps you in different scenarios.

Exams where coming up, and you were stressed, to say the least. On top of that you are pretty sure you’ve caught a cold.

Your textbooks and notebooks are scattered around the desk, and you struggled to stay focused on the letters you’ve been rereading for five minutes now. You sniffle and readjust your glasses for what feels like the tenth time before reaching for a tissue you have laying among the chaos.

“I’m so tired” you mumble to yourself as you wipe your nose with the tissue before throwing it away.

You’d been studying for hours, yet there was still so much left to cover before you could feel even remotely confident for the tests and all you want to do is crawl under your covers and take a nap together with your boyfriend, Jungwon.

At the though of your boyfriend you look at the time: 8:45 pm. You let out a sigh as you realize he’s late, as he’d promised to be over by 8:00.

Along with everything already weighting on you this was the tip of the iceberg. You squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears that prick in your eyes from falling but the feeling of disappointment swell inside you. You had told Jungwon earlier that day on the phone that you’d been feeling sick and about how overwheling everything felt- studying, grocery shopping, laundry. You just wanted him to hold you in his arms.

The longing for his embrace only intensifies as you realize that you’ll not be able to go shopping or do your laundry since studying took longer then planned.

You let out a quiet sob as you take off your glasses and bury your face in your hands. But right as the tears start to fall you hear the ring of your door bell.

Startled, you quickly stand up and walk towards the door. You might be disappointed that he’s late but you can’t bring yourself to stay upset at him, not when all you want is just to be in his arms.

When you open the door, you’re met with Jungwon smiling at you but his smile falters the moment he sees your tear-streaked cheeks.

“Are you okay?” He asks as you move to the side to let him in.

“N-no” you choke out as your voice breaks. “I’m so exhausted” your shoulders slump as you look at him with teary eyes.

Jungwon sets the tote bags he’s carrying on the floor and pulls you into his arms. “Oh, Honey… it’s going to be okay” he whispers, holding you close as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. “I promise”

You let out a muffled sob against his shoulder as he continues to hold you, his embrace warm and safe.

Some minutes pass, and once you’ve calmed down, he pulls back enough so that he can cup your face in his hands. “You feeling any better?” He asks softly.

“Only because you’re here…” you mumble, prompting a soft chuckle from Jungwon as he wipes away the remaining tears from your face.

Your eyes wanders from his to the bags he had with him. “What’s in the bags?” You question, curiosity breaking through your exhaustion.

Jungwon eyes widen. “Oh no, the milk!” He blurts out before he quickly takes the bags rushing to the kitchen. You follow after him and watch as he unpacks the groceries. Your eyes follow his movements as he takes out everything you’ve written down on your grocery list and your heart skips a beat.

“Wonnie?” You let out barely audible and he stops his movement and turns to you with a sheepish expression. “W-hat?… why?” You question in disbelief, your voice trembling with emotion.

Jugnwon looks at you as his ears turns a slight pink. “You said you weren’t feeling well and that you still have so much to do- like grocery shopping- so I thought… if I could at least take care of that for you, it might take some weight of your shoulders” he says as he looks at you with his kind eyes.

Tears well up in your eyes, this time not from exhaustion and you quickly walk around the counter to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Thank you” you sniffle as you feel his arms wrap around you, “this means so much to me” and even though you can’t see it he smiles softly before he kisses the top of your head.

“It’s the least I can do” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth against your hair.

He then pulls back slightly, just enough so that you can meet his eyes. “Now, let’s get you to bed” he says. “I’ll finish putting away everything, and when I’m done, we can watch a movie together. How does that sound?”.

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “That sounds perfect” you sigh content, hugging him tightly once more.

As you walk to your bed you can’t help but feel gratitude through out your body, having Jungwon by your side made everything a lot better.

⭒ Ni-ki ⭒

Shows his love by spending time with you and doing things you both like.

You hear the front door close from where you’re layed underneath a couple blankets on the couch watching some show on tv. A smile makes it’s way on your face when you realize your beloved boyfriend has finally returned home after a three day trip for a concert in Japan. As his footsteps grow louder, you sit up, and a big smile appears on your face as you lock eyes with him.

”you’re home” you smile as you open your arms for him. Riki's eyes light up at the sight, and he quickly sheds his jacket and sets down his bags before he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“I missed you” he mumbled against your neck as he breathes in his favorite scent.

“I missed you too, I don’t like being apart from you” you answer as you gently stroke his hair the way you know he loves. After a moment you both pull away and your eyes land on the canvases peeking out from the plastic bag next to his suitcase. You instantly know what he wants to do with them and you take a hold of his face and lock eyes with him.

“You didn’t” you beam.

“I did” he chuckles. "I couldn't get that TikTok trend that we saw out of my head, so when I had some free time in Japan, I picked up some canvases for us." Riki plants a kiss on your cheek as you wrap your arms around him again, this time squeezing him tighter with a joyful squeal.

Twenty minutes later, you and Riki find yourselves seated at the small table in your apartment, surrounded by paintbrushes and tiny containers of paint. A smile spreads across your face as the timer beeps, signaling that it’s time to switch canvases again. As Riki places the canvas in your hand you let out a laugh. “W-what is that?!” You let out.

“What!- how can’t you see what it is?!” Riki exclaims as he too lets out a laugh. “It’s super obvious that it’s a frog with a bucket hat!”

At that you burst out laughing again. “But why would you paint that on the picnic blanket I made?!” You laugh.

“It’s aesthetic” Riki replies with a serious expression, and you can't help but laugh once more. Suddenly, the canvas is taken from your grasp, and you turn back your gaze to Riki to see him pouting as he holds it.

“No- I’m sorry!” You giggle while you reach for the canvas which Riki pulls closer to himself. “It’s so nice! I see it now!” You hold back your giggle as you move to his side to take the canvas.

“You don’t mean that” he pouts if even possible more. You let out a small giggle as you take his face in your hand.

“I do, I just didn’t understand the aesthetic at first” you smile softly at him as you bite back a laugh.

Riki puts down the canvas on the table before he glances up at you. “You promise?”.

“I promise, you big baby” you giggle as you lean in and plant soft kiss on his pouty lips. As you pull away you see a soft smile on his face.

“I guess you’re forgiven” he lets out before he kisses your cheek.

#lvly20 #enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen jungwon #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen heeseung #kpop #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #ni ki x reader #enhypen ni ki #jungwon x reader #jay x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #heeseung x reader

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

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summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k

playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers

content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(

in which masterlist!

note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T… anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺

—

the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.

with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.

he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.

“what?”

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”

jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?

it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.

he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.

“is there anything else you want to eat?”

you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.

a kiss is granted to your forehead.

when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.

“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.

you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.

jungkook thinks you’re so cool.

you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.

you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.

there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.

his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.

because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.

“juwon?”

the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.

the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.

the slap thins out into a ringing noise.

“are you insane?!”

it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.

it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.

“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”

you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.

“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”

“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”

“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”

he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.

“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”

the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.

“jungkook!”

before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.

your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?

“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”

“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”

“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.

“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”

your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.

“stop it! you’re scaring me!”

that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.

“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.

“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”

he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…

“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”

he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.

“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”

your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.

“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”

and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.

you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?

“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.

but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.

“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”

“dude, how are you still speaking?!”

it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.

“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”

—

jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.

and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.

“baby, let’s go back.”

he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.

“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”

“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”

his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.

“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”

“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”

“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”

that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.

“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”

oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.

jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.

“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”

“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“

he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.

so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.

he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.

“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”

you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.

ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.

“get in, ____.”

and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.

you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?

you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.

juwon was right, you never change.

—

“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.

“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”

“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”

“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”

you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.

you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.

“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”

“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.

“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”

for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.

“a sofa?”

“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”

“quiet!”

he winces. “sorry, hyung!”

—

you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.

“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”

“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”

your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.

“he’s not worth it.”

“you are to me.” he declares.

it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.

“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”

he gazes at you with longing.

you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.

“are we really not going to talk about this?”

“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”

“baby…”

“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”

foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.

“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”

—

jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.

he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?

wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.

shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.

he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.

“you loved me too. once.”

however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.

and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.

—

you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.

you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.

“yah! why are doing just standing there?”

the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.

“i told you to stop doing that!”

jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.

“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”

“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”

that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.

the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.

“what happened to your face?”

fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.

“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.

“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”

“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”

your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.

“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”

“it’s for jungkook,” you add.

“doesn’t he have that?”

“it’s not here,”

your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.

“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”

“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.

he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”

“anywhere else?”

“nope!”

“sooo, do you have it or not?”

“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”

he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.

“thank you!”

“you’re welcome!”

—

despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.

a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.

how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.

stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.

you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.

you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?

you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.

“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”

“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”

“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”

you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.

“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!”

it does hurt.

“thank you…” you reply shyly.

you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.

—

“baby, where did you go?”

jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.

he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.

“nowhere,”

you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.

his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.

a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.

he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.

your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.

for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”

“let’s go,”

he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.

“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”

“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”

—

eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.

you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.

the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.

no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.

you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?

…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.

you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.

“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”

incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.

“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”

you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.

echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.

—

it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.

jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.

you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.

“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”

“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”

“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”

“did you box again?”

the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.

“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”

he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”

“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”

you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.

you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.

you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.

“why are you trying so hard?”

your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.

jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.

“there’s no one to fight.”

“turns out there is,” he argues.

he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.

“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”

stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.

but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.

they almost sound like a plead.

“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”

strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.

“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”

—

jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.

“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”

“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”

“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”

“three-”

“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”

“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”

he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.

“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”

you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.

“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.

“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”

jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”

he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.

“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”

“that’s what you took away from the story?”

“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”

you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”

“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.

“you’re crazy!”

“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.

the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.

“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”

your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because you’re crazy about me.”

the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.

“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”

“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”

fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.

“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”

“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”

and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.

you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”

he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.

“jungkook?”

“yes, baby?” he coos.

“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”

goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.

“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”

“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”

“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”

—

although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.

your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.

“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”

“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”

and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.

“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”

“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.

“let’s just turn on this one then.”

“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.

“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”

“who’s the other one for?”

jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.

“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”

“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”

“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”

“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”

—

“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”

“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”

he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.

“thank you!”

you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.

“aigoo, are you that hungry?”

“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”

“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”

“sorry, sorry!”

your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.

“how’s your cheek?”

“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”

“that means it’s healing well.”

“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”

“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”

that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.

“thank you,”

“huh? for what?”

“being jungkook’s happiness.”

from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”

he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.

“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”

you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.

“…or something like that.”

uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.

“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”

“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”

“what’s with the noise?”

you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”

jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.

“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”

—

“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”

and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”

jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”

“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”

“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”

“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”

“right? so we should protect it… maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”

the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.

jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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redvexillum · 2 months ago

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A/N: Kit, how dare you issue a challenge? I'mma come over and cough all over.... your keyboard! That's right! Biological warfare baby! Jks. I can't get out of my bed, lol.

SUMMARY: Every year on Christmas Eve, you meet Lucifer, your mentor. He regales you with tales from down below, and despite the passing years, you realize that your love for him has never faded.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, soft sex, p in v, angel!reader, naive!reader, virgin!reader, first time reader, touchstarved!lucifer, cunnilingus, fingering

Laughter drifted like silken ribbons through the crisp evening air, weaving its way seamlessly into the chorus of crackling firewood and the quiet hum of the night. Above, the stars gleamed with a fractured beauty, like shattered jewels scattered across the inky sky. Each flicker was a ghost of light from stars long gone, their brilliance enduring even after their death—a poignant reminder of their fragility and their fleeting splendour of existence.

The fire before you burned steady, casting warm golden halos against the encroaching chill. The scent of smoke mingled with the earthy aroma of wood, laced faintly with a sweetness that teased the edges of memory. Enveloped in the soft cocoon of your snowy white wings, you dared a glance at the figure across from you.

Lucifer.

He was once your mentor, your guide into the delicate art of creation—the delicate skill of weaving light, life, and beauty into existence. Even now, after his fall, he sat there with the same ethereal glow, though tarnished in the eyes of Heaven. His rosy cheeks, flushed as though kissed by frost, and his gentle smile felt like the warmth of a distant sun.

Yet, the whispers of his past lingered like shadows. The Seraphs spoke in riddles, never fully divulging the sin that led to his fall. He had become the emblem of rebellion, the cautionary tale told to every fledgling angel. To humanity and the choir of angels, he was the harbinger of evil and sin.

But to you?

He was still him.

“Want a s’more?” His voice broke the spell of your thoughts, warm and smooth, carrying a hint of playful curiosity. He held out the human treat, the graham crackers precariously balanced between fingers that had once wielded the glory of celestial creation.

You nodded, reaching eagerly for the offering. At the first bite, a delightful medley of flavours melted onto your tongue—the silk of chocolate, the airy sweetness of marshmallow, and the crisp crunch of graham crackers. Your eyes lit up with unabashed delight.

“Mmm!” you hummed, your grin radiant as you turned to him.

Lucifer chuckled, his laughter low and rich, like a song from a time you thought you’d forgotten. He leaned back, busying himself with crafting another treat, his motions unhurried and precise. Around you, colourful lights danced on strings, their cheerful glow a stark contrast to the quiet of the winter night.

You hadn’t planned to see him again after that fateful chance encounter in the human realm. Yet here you were, meeting him each year on Christmas Eve, reliving fragments of a bond that time had refused to sever.

Your gaze drifted to his profile, illuminated by the soft amber light. There was something mesmerizing about the way his hair caught the glow, the way his sharp features softened in the firelight.

The chill of the night was no match for the flush warming your cheeks. You didn’t mean to feel this way, to let your thoughts spiral into forbidden territory.

He was your mentor.

Your guide.

Your…

But the space between respect and yearning had blurred, year after year, as comfort gave way to an ache you couldn’t ignore. You told yourself it was admiration.

That it had to be.

“So,” Lucifer’s voice stirred you from your reverie, casual yet tinged with something unreadable. “How are things up there?” His words held an edge of hesitance, his unnatural crimson eyes flitting to meet yours briefly before darting away.

Your breath caught as your gaze fell to the faint glint of a golden band on his fourth finger. A thousand questions stirred in your chest, each one more painful than the last.

And yet, you smiled.

You always smiled for him.

Blinking back the twisting discomfort in your stomach, you forced a bright smile to your lips, wide enough to mask the unease threatening to spill over. “Oh, you know, same old, same old,” you sighed theatrically, shrugging your shoulders in an exaggerated gesture. “It’s been ages since anyone’s come up with anything truly inspired. No creativity, no innovation… just endless routine.”

Your gaze flickered nervously to Lucifer, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw his face light up—golden hues flushing his cheeks, a grin spreading wide and utterly unguarded across his face.

“Well, isn’t that just typical!” he exclaimed, effortlessly crossing his legs and setting the fourth s’more neatly on the plate beside him. His movements were so quick and precise you barely caught them. “Those old coots upstairs wouldn’t recognize genius if it smacked them right in their self-righteous halos!”

A giggle slipped from you, muffled only slightly by the hand you pressed to your mouth. It was still enough to escape, carrying the sound of bubbling joy across the air. His audacity—speaking so brazenly about the elders of Heaven—never failed to amuse you. But wasn’t that just one of the reasons why you… why you…

Your chest tightened, a bittersweet ache swelling inside you. You didn’t want this moment to end. You longed for the days when you could see him whenever you pleased, like you had in those ancient, untarnished eons.

Your wings puffed up instinctively, a reflexive motion that startled Lucifer enough to make him flinch. “Oh! S-sorry!” you stammered, cringing at the sudden disruption. “I just… remembered something!”

With a renewed determination, you reached into your pocket, your fingers brushing against smooth rubber. When you pulled it free, your smile grew brighter, almost trembling with anticipation. You held it out to him with both hands.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. He blinked once, then again, his gaze drifting from the object in your hands to your face. His lips, usually quick to curve into a grin, remained frozen in place.

A flicker of nervousness gnawed at your resolve, but you clung to your bright expression, even as it faltered just slightly. “I-I heard that tomorrow is a day when people exchange gifts and spend time together,” you began hesitantly, heat crawling up your neck to bloom across your cheeks. “And, well… you once mentioned you liked ducks, so… I made this for you.”

The small object in your hands was a pink rubber duck, its shimmering ruby eyes catching the firelight. Tiny white wings adorned its back, delicately crafted and fluffy to the touch. It wasn’t much, but it was something you’d poured your heart into—something that reminded you of the first time Lucifer had taught you the joy of creating. You still remembered the wooden duck he had given you all those years ago, a keepsake of simpler times.

“If you squeeze it here,” you demonstrated, giving the duck a gentle press. The tiny beak opened, letting out a soft, endearing quack, and the little wings began to flap, the duck hovering just slightly above your palm.

Your heart pounded as you looked up at him, hope filling your eyes. Surely, he’d see how much this meant.

For a moment, Lucifer’s expression was unreadable, his blank stare heavy and unnerving. But then, his lips curved into a wide, mischievous grin. “Oh, wow!” he drawled, plucking the duck from your hands and turning it over to examine it closely. “You’ve really improved! Your craftsmanship is getting impressive.”

His words washed over you, sending a pleasant warmth trickling down your spine. “Y-you think so?” you asked, your voice tinged with shy pride as you leaned in slightly, desperate to bask in the glow of his approval.

He glanced at you then, and for a moment, his eyes softened, their sharp edges melting into something infinitely more tender. His vibrant red eyes felt foreign, a reminder of all he had become, yet there was a piece of the mentor you once knew. No matter how he had changed, Lucifer still held an unshakable place in your heart.

And in this quiet moment, you realized… perhaps he always would.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low, threaded with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. His eyes softened, a flicker of vulnerability shimmering within their depths like the faintest ember of a long-forgotten fire. His hand hovered, trembling slightly, mere inches from your cheek, as if he yearned to touch you but couldn’t bring himself to close the distance. “You don’t have to indulge this old fool every year, you know.”

Your head tilted slightly, confusion knitting your brows. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment.

Lucifer sighed deeply, the sound heavy with unspoken words. His hand dropped back into his lap, his fingers curling protectively around the small gift you had made for him. His gaze followed, falling to the duck in his hand as if it held all the answers he couldn’t find.

“I…” He hesitated, his lips pressing together before he let out a quiet, frustrated breath. His eyes darted to the side, then back to the fire, searching for the courage to continue. “I’ve been reminiscing. About my past—about our past. And it’s been wonderful to share it with you again, but—”

Your chest tightened painfully, the weight of his unfinished words squeezing the air from your lungs. You didn’t want to hear it. Whatever he was about to say, it would break something inside you, something you weren’t ready to lose.

Before you could think better of it, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

His shoulders jerked, startled, and his head whipped toward you, wide-eyed and unguarded. Your lips quirked into a nervous smile, and with a forced, breathless giggle, you tried to brush it off. “I took my gift from you, Lucifer!” you declared, your tone falsely cheerful. Your hands wrung together in your lap, betraying the storm of nerves churning inside you, and your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the crackle of the fire.

“A k-kiss,” you stammered, heat flooding your cheeks. “That’s… what I wanted.”

It was innocent enough, wasn’t it? You had seen Seraphim offer kisses to their students in gestures of affection and encouragement. Surely, this wasn’t so different.

Right?

Lucifer blinked, slowly, as if processing your words. Then, a quiet “oh” escaped his lips, soft and unsure. He glanced at your face, his expression unreadable for a heartbeat that stretched into eternity.

“I can do that,” he said at last, his voice a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

He carefully placed the duck aside, tucking it safely into his pocket before leaning closer. When his lips met yours, it was gentle at first, barely a touch, but the softness of his mouth stole the air from your lungs. Your skin tingled where he brushed against you, sparking sensations that raced through your body like wildfire.

The kiss deepened, and your hands instinctively rose, pressing against the lapels of his coat as you leaned into him. Your eyes fluttered shut, the world around you dissolving into the warmth of him, the faint scent of smoke and something earthy mingling with his own intoxicating presence.

The quiet crackle of the fire mingled with the faint sounds of your lips meeting his. He pulled back slightly, just enough for your breaths to mingle, and his eyes caught yours. The red of his irises glowed softly, the colour unfamiliar yet achingly fitting for him. It was a shade you had never seen in Heaven, and yet it felt as though it had always belonged to him.

“I miss these wings,” Lucifer murmured, his lips brushing against yours with every word.

Before you could respond, his hand moved behind you, fingers grazing the base of your wings where they met your back. His touch was light, reverent, but the sensation that followed was anything but gentle.

“Ah!” you gasped, a sharp cry escaping your lips as a surge of pleasure coursed through you, so intense it left you trembling. Your body gave out, collapsing against his chest as heat flooded your veins, setting every nerve alight.

The sensations rippled through you in waves, overwhelming and indescribable. You buried your face against him, your breath ragged as you tried to steady yourself. It felt so good—too good, almost, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“Lucifer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but his name on your lips felt like a sinful plea.

The moment your gaze met his, Lucifer claimed your lips again, his kiss deeper, more fervent than before. His tongue brushed against your lips, coaxing them apart with a temptation as sweet as it was forbidden. Each movement of his mouth sent shivers down your spine, and the heat pooling low in your belly intensified, an ache that demanded more. His hands roamed over you, skilled and deliberate, igniting sparks that left you breathless. Shame prickled at the edge of your thoughts, but it was drowned out by the wet, warm sensation pooling between your thighs.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, mingling with the rustle of fabric and the faint crackle of the fire. His movements were fluid yet insistent as he guided you down onto the soft blanket beneath you. Lucifer hovered above, his arms caging you in, as if shielding you from the judgmental eyes of the Heavens above.

In the firelight, his golden hair glowed, its brilliance rivalling the stars you had spent so many nights admiring. It was brighter than the sun, and yet infinitely more inviting.

“My sweet angel,” he murmured, his voice trembling as though the words pained him. The nickname, long forgotten in the years since his fall, struck something deep within you, a chord of bittersweet memory. “Tell me to stop,” he pleaded, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath warm and unsteady against your skin. “We should… stop.”

The word echoed in your mind—stop. But it felt so foreign, so wrong. You didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to push him away, not now, not ever. His touch, his presence, the way he made you feel—it was all-consuming. You craved more.

Your lips parted, and instead of telling him to stop, a soft plea escaped, barely audible yet filled with undeniable longing. A bashful smile curled at the corners of your lips, a silent answer to his hesitation.

Lucifer shivered, his resolve faltering as his gaze searched yours. Then, he surrendered, dipping low to capture your lips once more. His hands moved over you, exploring with a reverence that made your heart ache. His touch ventured to places no one else had ever dared, yet there was no fear, no hesitation. With him, it felt right.

Piece by piece, your clothes fell away, and his followed suit, each article shed like a layer of pretense until nothing remained but bare skin and shared warmth. The movements were slow, deliberate, almost ritualistic—a dance of devotion. The firelight caressed his form, and you found yourself mesmerized by the sight of him, by the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered in the universe.

His lips trailed along your cheekbone, leaving a path of warmth in their wake, before finding the delicate curve of your neck. He pressed a kiss there, soft and lingering, and you felt him shudder, his breath trembling against your skin. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hold on you tightening, as though he feared you might vanish.

Your chest pressed against his, your bodies aligned, and a new sensation bloomed within you—a mix of anticipation and nervous excitement. The hard length of him throbbed against your core, every twitch synchronized with the rapid beat of his heart. The tip was warm, slick with your shared desire, a physical manifestation of the connection drawing you both closer.

Your heart raced, not with fear, but with happiness—a profound joy that your first time sharing this sacred act would be with him. This was no mere moment of passion; it was something deeper, something eternal. An act of unity, of bonding, of love. Wasn’t it? You wondered, heart fluttering, if this meant he saw you as his equal, his soulmate.

Did he love you?

Lucifer’s voice broke the silence, hoarse and laden with conflict. “We should stop,” he murmured, his words catching as though they pained him to say. “I’m tainted… and you’re not. We should stop.”

Yet even as he spoke, his arms clung to you with a desperation that belied his words. He held you as though you were his salvation, the one thing anchoring him in a world of chaos. His resolve was crumbling, his need laid bare before you.

And you… you could not let him go.

Not now.

Not ever.

Lucifer's voice was raw, tinged with a pain that gripped your heart. Though you couldn’t fully understand the depths of his torment, the need to soothe him overwhelmed you. Your fingers trailed tenderly through his golden hair, soft and warm under your touch. His muscles, taut with tension, gradually loosened, melting as he surrendered to your embrace. A sigh escaped his lips, quiet and vulnerable, followed by a low moan as his mouth pressed delicate, lingering kisses to your neck. Each touch sent shivers coursing through your body, his lips igniting sparks wherever they met your skin.

It hit you then—why you returned to him, year after year, unable to stay away. This feeling, which had begun as a fragile seed, had blossomed into something wild and untamable. It was no longer just admiration or fondness—it was something much deeper.

You loved him.

The realization unfurled within you like a sunrise, pure and all-encompassing. Love, the most beautiful and sacred of emotions, a gift from the heavens themselves. It was love that had drawn you to Lucifer, time and again. Love that refused to let you abandon him, even in his fall. He had taught you about creation, about beauty, and now, he had taught you the most profound truth of all—the overwhelming power of love.

Emboldened by the thought, you cupped his face, tilting his head upward. Your lips found his in small, feather-light kisses, each accompanied by a soft giggle of uncontainable joy. His torment, etched so deeply into his features, began to fade, replaced by a quiet resignation. His lips curled into a gentle smile, one that reached his eyes for the first time in eons.

Then he kissed you again, deeply, a kiss that stole the air from your lungs and set your body alight. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and you let him in, surrendering to the heat of his passion. His moan vibrated through you, a sound so primal and raw it sent a shiver down your spine.

His body pressed against yours, his arousal hot and throbbing against your core. The tip of him pressed gently, insistently, against your entrance, the weight of his desire palpable. You widened your thighs instinctively, your breath hitching as anticipation gripped you.

"I'll be gentle," he whispered, his voice a low promise that resonated through every fibre of your being.

You nodded, your trust in him absolute, your heart pounding with a mix of trepidation and excitement. Slowly, he began to press into you, the sensation foreign yet electrifying. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he stretched you, your body adjusting to the slow, deliberate intrusion.

“Ah,” you moaned, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he rolled his hips, pulling back before pressing forward again. Each thrust brought him deeper, filling you inch by inch. The rhythm was deliberate, reverent, as though he sought to worship every part of you. The sounds of your bodies meeting—the wet, slick noise of his movements, the ragged breaths, the whispered gasps—filled the air, a melody of intimacy.

"That's right," he murmured, his voice thick with praise and desire. "You're doing so well, my sweet angel."

Lucifer groaned as he buried himself deeper, his brows knitting together in concentration. You felt the burn of his entry give way to a blossoming pleasure, waves of heat radiating from where your bodies were joined.

“Ah, my angel,” he groaned, his voice trembling. “So tight... so perfect.”

He thrust deeper still, his pace steady and unrelenting. The fullness was overwhelming, every nerve alight with sensation. His hand slid around your back, fingers finding the base of your wings. When he touched you there, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, your walls tightening around him involuntarily.

The sensation built and built, pain dissolving into pure, unadulterated bliss as he moved within you. Each roll of his hips brought you closer to something transcendent, a feeling so overwhelming it consumed you completely. And at that moment, with Lucifer holding you, filling you, there was no fall, no sin—only love.

Lucifer’s moan was low and guttural as he sank fully into you, his hips pressing flush against yours. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of heat and fullness that left your body trembling as it tried to accommodate him.

“Ah… ah… L-Luci,” you whimpered, your voice catching on every gasp as you clenched tightly around him. Your walls fluttered, struggling to adjust to his size, the stretch both foreign and intoxicating. Above you, Lucifer’s torso rose, his head tilted back as he groaned, savouring the tightness of your untouched core.

“I’m going to move,” he murmured, his voice soft and trembling, laced with restraint. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had slipped free. The tenderness in his gaze made your chest ache, grounding you amidst the swirling chaos of sensation. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

You nodded, your smile wobbly but trusting.

Slowly, he began to withdraw, and a sharp whimper escaped your lips as the loss of him left you achingly empty. But then, he pressed forward again, filling you completely, his heat and presence igniting something raw within you. His movements were careful, deliberate, as he set a rhythm, his cock throbbing against your walls as if revelling in your embrace.

Each glide of him inside you was smoother, more certain, and his pace gradually quickened. Your breaths intertwined, the quiet space filled with the sounds of your union—ragged gasps, soft moans, and the rhythmic sound of your bodies meeting.

“You’re so beautiful, my sweet angel,” he whispered, his voice a reverent murmur that made your heart flutter. His hips rolled in slow, indulgent circles, eliciting a cry of pleasure as he drove deeper into you. “You feel incredible,” he sighed, his words like a balm to your overwhelmed senses.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss. His tongue explored you with unrestrained hunger, mapping every corner of your mouth and drawing out muffled moans with every stroke. His lips left trails of fire on your skin, igniting every nerve he touched.

“I’m close,” he rasped against your lips, his thrusts becoming erratic, his control fraying as he chased his release.

You could barely form words, your body spiralling higher with every movement. “I want you to… feel good… Luci,” you managed, your voice breaking on a high-pitched keen as the coil in your core wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

Your whispered plea undid him. With a final thrust, his body tensed, and a deep groan escaped him as he spilled into you. The warmth of his release filled you, each pulse of him deep within making you shudder. He moaned softly, his hips rocking gently as he pressed as far as he could, emptying every drop into you.

As he stilled, his breaths uneven, he opened his eyes to meet yours. Slowly, carefully, he withdrew, and a shiver ran through you as his warmth began to escape. But before you could mourn the loss, his fingers slid inside, filling you once more.

“Ah!” you cried out, your back arching as the sudden intrusion sent a jolt of pleasure through you. His fingers curled, seeking and finding a spot deep within that made your vision blur. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, your body surrendering completely to the unexpected waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

“Good,” Lucifer murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watched you unravel beneath him, your pleasure becoming his own reward.

"That's right, let go, my dear," Lucifer murmured, his voice a velvet caress against your senses. The wet, lewd sounds of his fingers delving into your heat filled the space between you, the mixture of his release and your arousal slicking every motion. His fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you see stars, and your body clenched around him, desperate for more.

“Ah… ah, Luci!” you cried, your voice trembling with raw need as the coil in your core wound tighter, ready to snap. The tension in your body built with every stroke of his fingers, every graze of his touch, until a sudden, warm pressure pressed against your sensitive nub. The contact sent a jolt of pure, searing pleasure through you, pulling a broken cry from your lips.

Lucifer’s lips found your clit, his tongue flicking against the swollen bundle of nerves before he drew it into his mouth, suckling gently. The sensation was electric, each stroke of his fingers inside you timed perfectly with the pull of his lips. The sound of him—wet, desperate, and unrelenting—filled your ears, and the world around you blurred into nothing but him.

Your body arched off the blanket, a keening moan escaping you as your hips pushed forward, seeking more. You were helpless against the onslaught of sensations, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to drive you higher and higher until you shattered completely.

White-hot pleasure surged through you, a blinding wave of ecstasy that left you breathless. Your walls clamped around his fingers, spasming with the force of your orgasm as your cries filled the air. Lucifer didn’t stop—his fingers moved slowly, deliberately, while his tongue lavished your oversensitive clit with gentle, teasing licks, drawing out every last tremor of bliss.

When the pleasure finally ebbed, leaving you trembling and spent, you collapsed back onto the blanket, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Your cheeks flushed, your lips parted in a dazed smile as you looked down at him.

Lucifer raised his head, his lips glistening, and a small smile graced his face. But something in his eyes gave you pause—a shadow of sadness that dulled the light you adored. His gaze lingered on you, tender yet heavy, as though he was holding back something you couldn’t see.

You reached for him, brushing your fingers along his cheek, your smile faltering as you whispered, “Luci… what’s wrong?”

Lucifer gathered you close, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that belied his strength. His fingers threaded through your hair, stroking it gently, while his lips pressed soft, reverent kisses to your temple, your forehead, the crown of your head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, the weight of those words sinking deep into your chest.

Your eyelids fluttered, the haze of exhaustion clouding your mind. “What for?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You nestled against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, relishing in the warmth that seeped into your skin.

“For not being enough,” he began, his lips brushing against your hair. “For falling,” another kiss, this time on your temple. “For leaving you,” his voice cracked, and he kissed you again, a lingering touch on your cheek. “For disappointing everyone.” His lips trembled as they grazed your forehead once more. “For…”

The words faltered, and you tilted your head, looking up at him. The pain etched into his features pierced your heart, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Did you know?” you began softly, the words coming from a place of vulnerability. “I look forward to seeing you every year. I look forward to hearing the stories about your daughter, to just… being with you.”

To you.

He was enough.

Always.

His arms tightened around you, his body trembling slightly as though your words unravelled something deep within him. You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of what you wanted to say, the unspoken truth that had been blooming in your heart. “I… I—”

But the words caught in your throat, your courage faltering. Did he feel the same? Angels didn’t share this kind of intimacy lightly; it was an act of deep love, wasn’t it? Surely, Lucifer felt it too.

He leaned back slightly, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “We should rest tonight, my sweet angel,” he said gently, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

You hesitated but nodded, allowing him to conjure a tent with a wave of his hand. The interior was illuminated by strings of delicate fairy lights, their warm glow casting a soft, ethereal ambience.

“It’s like our own personal stars!” you exclaimed, the childlike wonder in your voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

But Lucifer said nothing, his silence wrapping around the space between you like a fragile thread. You told yourself he was tired, that the weight of the day had worn him down. Still, a small, nagging fear nestled in your chest.

However, later in the dead of night, you stirred faintly when you felt a hand resting lightly on your head. You kept your eyes shut, your breathing steady as you waited, your heart pounding.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice cracking as though the words themselves were too heavy to bear. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, like a prayer seeking forgiveness. “You belong in Heaven, with the stars, not entangled with a devil like me.”

Your breath hitched, but you remained still, every fibre of your being straining to hear more. You wanted to open your eyes, to reach out and tell him he was wrong, that you didn’t care, but something held you back. Deep down, you already knew, didn’t you?

You were the one who clung to hope, who had dared to declare love where it was forbidden. You were the one who dreamed of a union that defied the heavens and the depths. And yet, now, all you could do was lie there, caught between the truth you feared and the love you couldn’t bear to lose.

You closed your eyes, sealing them shut like you had sealed away every truth you didn’t want to face. The truth that Lucifer had fallen, that his place was no longer beside you, and that a future together was a dream as fleeting as stardust. You closed your eyes against the inevitable, against the knowledge that this fragile connection had always been temporary.

You closed your eyes because as an angel, hope was all you had—and even that, you realized now, had been a fool's solace.

Tears threatened but did not fall, held at bay by sheer will as you lay there, motionless. You heard the soft rustle of the tent flaps, the faint sound of him leaving, and then the crushing silence as his presence disappeared. The space he left behind felt cavernous, the absence of his warmth like an icy void.

You didn’t know how long you remained there, curled beneath the blanket that still faintly carried his scent. The false stars above twinkled on, uncaring, mocking. Slowly, you sat up, the first tear slipping down your cheek like a crack in the dam. Then another, and another, until the flood of grief began to escape in earnest.

You crawled out of the tent, the night’s chill biting at your skin as you wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself. The fire outside had dimmed to embers, its light no longer warm, its joy snuffed out. On the plate lay the discarded remains of s’mores, cold and abandoned, their sweetness wasted.

You turned your gaze to the sky, to the real stars. Another tear slipped down as you stared at their brilliance.

You weren’t going to see Lucifer next year.

Or the year after.

You weren’t going to see him ever again. He wouldn’t meet you, wouldn’t look at you with that half-smile that never quite reached his eyes. The realization cuts you deep like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

More tears welled, spilling freely now as your throat tightened and your chest heaved. The stars blurred in your vision, but you kept looking, unable to tear your gaze away. They shone so brightly, their light a lingering echo of something long gone. A memory of existence clinging to the present, deceiving the dreamers and the hopeful into believing they were still there.

A breath escaped you, shaky and shallow, followed by a sob that tore free like a scream trapped too long.

Lucifer had been your mentor. He had shown you the wonder of creation, the beauty of ingenuity, the power of unrestrained possibility.

But love?

Perhaps he hadn’t taught you that after all.

How could it have been love when you never truly had it to begin with?

Your hands clutched the blanket tighter, your tears falling silently into the earth beneath you. The stars above continued their eternal dance, indifferent to your pain, as you sat there mourning the light you had lost—and the darkness it left behind.

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tikosblogg · 7 months ago

Text

Comfort❤️

Summary: request! You and Noah are best friends. You have a nightmare, and go to his room for “comfort” and it leads to more.

Warning: smut. Light choking, spitting, p n v, no protection. (Don’t be silly wrap your Willy), confessions.

A/N: I LIVE for best friend Noah trope, and I will die on that hill. Just something about it idk. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this!

The soft glow of the monitor illuminated Noah’s room, casting playful shadows across the scattered posters of his favorite bands and the disarray of empty energy drink cans that marked his relentless gaming sessions. You had always admired how effortlessly he inhabited this world, immersed in his video games, his fingers dancing over the keys with an intensity that matched the power of his voice on stage. But tonight, something felt off.

You stood there in the doorway, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt tears spill down your cheeks. The remnants of a bad dream clung to you, swirling like dark clouds in your mind. The kind of dream that felt so real, it left you gasping for breath, desperate for solace. You didn’t want to burden Noah, but in that moment, you needed his comfort.

Noah turned, his focus diverting from the flashing screen to the scene unfolding in front of him. His brow furrowed in concern as he took in my tear-streaked face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soothing and steady, like a balm easing the rawness inside you.

“I had a bad dream,” you admitted, swiping at your tears with the back of your hand. “I… I just wanted to sleep in here with you for a bit.” He didn’t hesitate. His face softened further, and he pushed back from his desk, pulling the comforter down on his bed to let you crawl in. “Of course. Come here.”

You smiled weakly, grateful for his immediate understanding, and crawled into his bed behind him, the familiar scent of his laundry detergent mixed with a hint of his cologne enveloping you like a comforting embrace. As you settled in, he place the comforter over you, covering you up.

The steady clatter of keys filled the room again as Noah returned to his game, his concentration palpable. You nestled into the plush blankets, staring at Noah's back, where his T-shirt hugged his frame. The familiarity of this setup—your routine—made your heart ache just a little less. You watched as his fingers flew over the keyboard, seamlessly navigating this digital world, while you breathed in the scent of the night, feeling your eyelids grow heavy.

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked, not looking back but knowing you could hear the genuine curiosity behind his question. You hesitated, the nightmares still fresh in your mind. “It was… something about losing everything.” You sighed, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over you. ‘Everything’ being Noah, but for some reason you felt too shy to admit it. “I guess I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Noah turned slightly in his seat, finally facing you, his expression softening further. “You’re not alone,” he reassured you, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “You’ll never be alone, not with me around.” His words melted away the remnants of fear, and you nodded, closing your eyes. The rhythmic sound of his gaming, coupled with the presence of him in front of you, worked their magic. You felt your heart rate slow, your breaths evening out, the bond between you knitting together the shadows lurking in your mind.

As you drifted off, you realized how lucky you were to have him not just as a best friend but as a safe haven. Noah was your anchor in life’s turbulent sea, and no matter how dark the dreams got, you could always find your way back to him, to the calm that followed the storm.

Hours melted away as night deepened, and eventually, the sounds of gunfire and adventure quieted. The gentle creak of the chair as he finally pushed back from the desk was the only sound in the now quiet room. He padded softly to the bed, where warmth awaited him in the sheets. With a soft smile, you were turned away from him, falling deeper into the cozy embrace of your blanket.

Hours later, you stirred, awakened not by the gaming sounds but by the steady pressure of Noah's warm body against yours. It was 3 AM, and you blinked against the fog of sleep. The world outside was still and quiet, but inside the room, the air felt heavy and electric.

As you shifted slightly, your skin prickled; the heat rising from his chest was almost overwhelming. You felt a blush creeping into your cheeks, and there was something primal in the way your body responded. You fidgeted a little, half-trying to find comfort in the heat of his body and half-trying to quell the growing warmth inside you.

In his sleep, Noah sensed your restlessness. He pulled you closer, instinctively, as if there were an invisible cord tying you together. His hand slid from the gentle curve of your hip, caressing its way down your thigh, back and forth in a soothing motion. The intimacy of the gesture sent ripples of electricity along your skin. Each brush of his fingers felt deliberate, yet almost accidental—a mix of sleep and somnolent desire.

You couldn’t help but breathe a little heavier, caught between the comfort of his presence and the fluttering anticipation that it stirred within you. The warmth of his touch ignited something soft and sweet in your chest; it was a reminder of how the two of you were woven into each other's stories.

Noah stirred slightly, his breath warm against the back of your neck. You closed your eyes and enjoyed this moment of connection, of safety and heat, wishing the boundaries of sleep could melt into something deeper. But then, suddenly aware of the intimacy of the moment, you turned back to face him, brushing your fingertips against his cheek. In response, he cracked an eye open, the sight of you pulling him from the depths of dream. “Hey,” he whispered, voice husky with sleep. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” you replied softly, though the warmth pooling in your stomach might suggest otherwise. “Just couldn’t sleep." A knowing smile spread across his lips, and without breaking your gaze, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand found its way back to your hip, resting there as if anchoring you both to the moment. “You feel warm,” he murmured.

Your heart raced. It was an innocent statement, but the way he looked at you made your breath hitch slightly. “Maybe it’s just you,” you teased gently. He chuckled, a deep rumble that reverberated through both of you. “Guess we’ll have to see how to cool it down, then.” The playful glint in his eyes was infectious, inviting you in to share something more than just a sleepy embrace.

With a reassuring squeeze, Noah shifted closer, the gentle pressure of his body melding perfectly with yours. The simple act of being together, of sharing warmth and heartbeats, enveloped you in a cocoon of safety and promise, where, at that late hour, the lines between friendship and and something more blurred.

You settled against him, your bodies fitting together as if they were always meant to be, the world outside forgotten. In that moment, with the moonlight spilling across the sheets and the quiet pulse of the night surrounding you, you knew this was where you belonged—all tangled up in warmth, affection, and the sweet thrill of shared dreams. You turned back around, letting him pull you closer to his chest.

The soft, rhythmic sound of his breaths against your shoulder made your thoughts race. You were acutely aware of how close he was, as though the air itself crackled with unspoken words (or were those your thoughts stirring up a storm?). You could feel his gaze on you, and it sent delightful shivers down your spine.

Breaking the silence, Noah’s voice slipped into the darkness. “You know,” he began, his tone casual yet thick with a hint of vulnerability, “sometimes I just… can’t help but think how beautiful you really are.” His words lingered in the air, catching you off guard. A rush of heat flushed your cheeks, and you felt your heart stumble for a moment.

You turned slightly, just enough to glance back at him, gauging his expression. There it was—the sincerity in his eyes that had always drawn you in, yet tonight, it felt different. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken confessions, until finally, he continued, "I know you’re my best friend, but… that’s not all I feel for you anymore."

Your breath caught in your throat. Did he just say what you think he said? Your mind raced through all your late-night talks and laughter-filled days, every moment where you’d sensed something more but had ignored it, afraid of ruining what you had. Yet, somehow, amidst the swirling emotions, something inside you sparked.

You found yourself leaning in, the distance between you shrinking in an almost magnetic pull. Before you could process it, you pressed your lips to his—a tentative brush at first, as if testing the waters of this new and unfamiliar shore. And then the floodgates opened.

Noah kissed you back with a fervor that almost knocked the breath from your lungs. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as you melted against him. Every brush of his fingers sent jolts of electricity coursing through you, igniting a fire that chased away the coolness of the night. Your heart raced as your kisses deepened, your lips moving in a synchronized dance laden with a hunger that had been building silently over the years.

In a flurry of movement, the playful kisses turned intense, your bodies intertwining like vines reaching for the sun. You felt his hands explore, tracing along you sides, gripping your ass, pulling you into him as though his life depended on it. Your fingers tangled in his hair, the warmth of him igniting passion that you had kept at bay for so long.

“Are you sure about this?” he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire. You could only nod, lost in the moment, your body answering before your mind could fully comprehend. Nothing had ever felt this right, this exhilarating.

The world around you faded, and it was as though only the two of you existed in a bubble where only you mattered. Every caress, every kiss ignited a longing that had been buried beneath layers of friendship. As you lost yourselves in each other, it became clear: this was no longer just a moment; it was the beginning of something beautifully inevitable.

Noah cupped your face, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that quickly ignited into something deeper. Suddenly, Noah shifted beneath you, pulling you onto him so you were straddling his waist. The shift caught you off-guard, and your breath hitched as your bodies pressed against each other. The world faded away—nothing existed but the two of you and the heat radiating between.

With a firm grip on your hips, Noah guided you gently, yet purposefully, making you grind against him. The sensation sent waves of electricity racing through your body, and you gasped into his mouth, the kiss growing more fervent, more desperate. His hands navigated the small of your back, fingers digging in just enough to stoke the fire brewing within you.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long,” Noah murmured against your lips, his breath warm like a summer breeze. “Same,” you managed to breathe out, lost in the rhythm of your movements, the sensations blurring everything else. Every kiss ignited a spark, every brush of your bodies fused your hearts a little closer. You didn’t want to think about anything else but this moment, this connection.

The air was thick with the scent of passion, of promises whispered in stolen moments. Noah’s hands roamed your body with purpose, his touch igniting every nerve ending, making you feel alive in a way you hadn’t expected. The kiss pulled you deeper into each other, the heat between you transforming the quiet night into a sanctuary of longing and love.

As the world faded into the background, all that mattered was the way his lips moved against yours, the way he held you close as though you were the only thing anchoring him to this reality. And for the first time, you both embraced the feelings that had been waiting to spill forth, allowing the night to carry you into uncharted territory together.

Noah’s hands gripped your hips tightly before they began to move, traveling slowly up your sides, sending shivers down your spine. With a gentle yet sure touch, they slipped under your shirt. His fingers brushed your skin, teasing and exploring, igniting sparks wherever they touched.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his hands found their way to your tits, squeezing firmly yet tenderly. It was a bold move, one that made your heart thud harder in your chest, and you couldn’t help but arch toward him, inviting more of his touch. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled away for a brief moment, his gaze wandering over you as if he were committing every detail to memory.

With a deliberate slowness, he lifted your shirt off, your heart pounding harder as the cool air kissed your skin. The look in his eyes as he admired you was almost overwhelming—an intoxicating mix of admiration and hunger that made you feel both shy and undeniably powerful. You could see the way his breath hitched, and that knowledge sent a thrill through you.

You leaned in closer, your skin brushing against his, a silent invitation for him to explore further. The connection between you two deepened. Where this would lead? The thrill was in the unknown. his hands quicly find purchase on your hips, gently but firmly pushing you off him. You landed softly on your back, a playful gasp escaping your lips as he climbed on top of you, his body warm and welcoming. His lips found your neck first, trailing soft kisses down to your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.

he nipped at your skin, a playful bite to your tits and teasingly licking your nipples, you could feel the heat rising within you, an unquenchable fire igniting at his touch. His kisses traveled lower, down your chest and past your ribs, each one igniting a spark of desire deeper within you. You could hardly catch your breath as he continued his journey down your body, your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

When he reached your underwear, his fingers slid lightly along your drenched folds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He paused, looking deep into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race even faster. “You’re so wet for me baby,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a thrill through you.

Feeling bold, you arched your back slightly, craving more of his touch, urging him on. With a slow, deliberate motion, he traced the outline of your body, his fingers a gentle tease, while his eyes remained locked onto yours.

Your breath hitched as he leaned closer, and you could feel the warmth radiating off him a flicker of both excitement and vulnerability filling the space between your bodies. It was thrilling, knowing you could share this intimate connection with someone who cherished every moment as much as you did. He gave you one last look, his eyes filled with pure lust, and excitement.

You softly bucked your hips, desperate for his touch. “Please Noah.” He smiled, finally pulling your now soaked panties off of you. You let out a sigh, as the cool air hit your soaked core. You lifted your thighs, letting them fall open before him. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, bending down, placing soft kisses against the insides of your thighs.

When his mouth finally met your core, he went all in. His tongue slowly licked up your slit, before flicking your clit. You let out a desperate moan, softly grinding your hips against his tongue. He moaned against you, sending shivers throughout your body. He flattened his tongue, running it up and down a few more times before pulling away.

“I need to feel you.” He groaned, lifting up and removing his shirt, and the rest of his clothes. He laid back on top of you, capturing your lips in another kiss. This kiss was slow, and intense. As his tongue licked into your mouth, he slowly thrusted into you. You moaned into his mouth at the delicious stretch. Once he bottomed out, he sat still.

He grabbed your neck softly, this thumb and forefinger under your jaw, turning your face towards him. “Are you okay?” You bit your lip, staring deep into his eyes. All you could do was nod. He squeezed his fingers that were around your throat tighter, before laying his forehead on yours. “Use your words.” He growled, and pulled his hips back, and thrusted into you a little harder this time.

“Fuck yes, please.” You whined, the pressure on your throat making you feel lightheaded. You loved it. He kissed your lips one last time. “Good girl” he kept his hand firm on your throat, as he thrusted into you hard. You gripped his forearm, as he pounded into you roughly. “Fuck baby you feel so good wrapped around me.” He grunted.

You wanted to speak, to agree with him but you were too lost in the pleasure. “This pussy is mine right baby? All mine.” You nodded your head the best you could with his fingers around your throat. “Yes yes yesss…” you whispered. His hand left your throat, grabbing your jaw, making your mouth open up. “Stick out your tongue baby.” Without a second thought, your tongue was out. He smirked down at you, before spitting directly on it. You groaned at the taste of him.

He pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach and grabbing your hips pulling them into air. You arched your back as much as you could ready for whatever you he wanted to give you. A sharp slap landed on your ass, as you whined. He rubbed the red skin, before dragging his tongue from the base of your spine all the way up between your shoulder blades. You let out a whimper at the contact. Your spine was so sensitive, it felt like heaven.

He reached under you, cupping your tits and pulling you up against his chest. He groaned sliding back into you, before whispering in your ear. “You sound so pretty baby.” You lifted your hand, grabbing the back of his head, tangling your fingers into the back of his short hair. He pounded into you again, fast and hard. You could feel your orgasm reaching its peak.

“You gonna cum for me sweetheart?” You nodded frantically, chasing that feeling. His hand left your chest, his fingers gliding down your body until they met your clit. He rubbed it softly, while still thrusted hard into you. You threw your head back onto his shoulder, as your orgasm wracked your body. “That’s it baby, good girl.”

He continued thrusting, as you rode out your high. He then pushed your head down to the mattress thrusting hard chasing his own high, before pulling out, and flipping you onto your back. You watched as he fucked his fist a few more times, releasing all over your chest and stomach. He crashed down beside you, as you both just laid there catching your breath.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, his voice smooth and reassuring, as he slipped out of bed. The sheets rustled softly as he swung his legs over the edge. You watched him, admiring the way his muscles moved under his skin, each movement a testament to his careful dedication to fitness. He walked toward the bathroom, the sound of his footsteps light on the hardwood floor.

In those quiet moments, you relished the atmosphere the scattered remnants of your laughter still dancing in the air. You closed your eyes and let your thoughts wander, savoring the intimacy of just being together.

A moment later, he returned, holding a damp rag and a teasing smirk. “The clean-up crew is here,” he joked, his voice playful, and the warmth in his eyes drew you in. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his theatrics.

Gently, he dabbed the cloth against your skin, his movements tender and careful, treating you like something precious. Each stroke felt soothing, apologies woven into the fabric of his gentleness.

The rag soon fell aside as he moved closer, enveloping you in his embrace. “But in all seriousness,” he said softly, his tone shifting to one of sincerity, “I love being close to you like this. It feels… right.”

You looked up into his eyes, recognizing the depth of his words. In the momentary silence, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you intertwined in the serenity of shared vulnerability. It was sacred, profound, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for it all.

With a soft kiss on your forehead, he settled back against the pillows, pulling you in against his side. As he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, you snuggled closer, content to let the warmth of his body seep into yours as the moon light cast a shimmering glow through the curtains. In that perfect, intimate quiet, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sabastian smut #badomensimagines #noahsebastiancult #bad omens cult #imagines #bad omens band #bad omens smut #best friend noah #smut

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jromanoff · 6 months ago

Note

I could ask Regina and reader are dating and reader introduces Regina to Minecraft for the first time and she's like "this game is for nerds" but she ends up liking it and they play together and they're cute

An introduction to Minecraft II R. George

Pairing: Regina George (2024) x Reader

Warning(s): none

Authors note: I had so much fun writing this, thanks for the request. Sorry for taking so long to write it though, it sent me back into my own Minecraft spiral :)

Summary: You introduce Regina (and the other Plastics) to Minecraft.

Word count: 2k

The doorbell rang. Finally. You quickly ran to the front door and found a package sitting on the doorstep. Shouting an excited “Thank you” to the delivery man who walked away, you got back inside and ran up the stairs to your room.

You bounced on your toes as you tore open the package. The label confirmed your excitement: inside was the new graphics card you ordered.

Regina, lounging on your bed, glanced up from her fashion magazine, a curious eyebrow raised.

"What's got you so hyped?" Regina asked, flipping a page nonchalantly.

"It's my new graphics card, an RTX 4090! My current one is really old," you replied, eyes sparkling as you carefut took the graphics card out of its packaging to install it.

“Nerd…” Regina mumbled, watching with curiosity as you installed the graphics card in your PC.

“All done!” you grinned and closed the case of the PC. You plugged the PC in and pushed the ‘on’ button. Within moments, the computer roared to life, the sound of fans humming filling the room. Your fingers danced over the keyboard as you started your favorite game: Minecraft.

“Woah! I have like 600 fps!” you said excitedly as you joined a server. “Oh and look at the graphics- I can even use shaders without lagging”

"I have no idea what you’re talking about, it’s-“ Regina moved to look at your screen. “You seriously play that?" Regina asked as she looked at your screen with a frown, her tone dripping with skepticism. "This game is for nerds. Well- every game is, but you get what I mean,” she rolled her eyes.

You chuckled and shrugged, unfazed. "It's actually pretty fun,” you glanced over at Regina, a playful challenge in your eyes. "Wanna give it a try?"

Regina hesitated, this game was for nerds, but she was curious. With a dramatic sigh and a roll of her eyes, she slid off the bed and approached your setup. "Fine, but only because you're so excited about it," she said, taking a seat on your lap. You smirked, Regina could never refuse a challenge.

Regina turned to look at you in your lap. “Let me show you how a real pro does it,” she said with a smirk.

You guided Regina through the basics of the game enthusiastically. To her surprise Regina found herself getting drawn into the game, she didn’t let it show, though. She already had a few ideas for what she wanted to do and build in the game and it was a good opportunity to have quality time with her girlfriend.

You noticed Regina’s small smile and her attempt to hide her enthusiasm about the game, so you made a mental note to download the game on her laptop later so the two of you could play together.

The next day after school, Regina came home to find a surprise waiting for her. You stood in front of her, holding up her laptop. It was a ridiculously expensive laptop for someone who only used it for school, its specs more than enough to run Minecraft.

“I got something for you," you said, a proud smile on your face. "Minecraft is installed and ready to go, now we can play together. I already added my server to your server list.”

Regina took the laptop, her initial reluctance giving way to genuine excitement. "Alright, let’s play then," she said with a grin.

You took your own laptop out, having Minecraft installed on both your PC and laptop so you could play at Regina’s house too. The both of you sat down at the massive table in Regina’s living room with your laptops. Mrs. George was out of town for a few days for a “mental health retreat” to a spa resort, as she called it, so you and Regina had the house to yourselves. Good for her, really.

You were the first one to log into the server, then Regina followed.

QueenBeeRegina joined the game

A smug smile appeared on Regina’s face as she saw the username that you chose for her appear in the chat. “That’s just perfect, baby. Now everyone will immediately see who’s boss on our server,” she looked over at you “Speaking of which… I decided that you’re building me a castle after yesterday.”

You looked at her in surprise “A castle? Seriously?”

Regina's eyes sparkled with determination as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Yes, seriously,” she said, her tone leaving no room for any protest. “I want a big castle. It needs to radiate power and elegance, just like me. You need some ambition in this server of yours.”

You glanced back at your screen, looking at the blocky, green landscape with trees in front of you. Building a castle from scratch was no small task, but just like Regina, you could never resist a challenge.

“Alright, but you have to help with the design. I’m not building you a castle just for you to blow it up because it’s not to your liking,” you conceded, meeting her gaze again.

“Deal,” Regina agreed, a playful smirk appearing on her face. “But don’t think I’m going to gather recourses and all that boring stuff. I’m more of a visionary.”

As you started to gather resources by cutting trees and mining, Regina began scouting the world for a perfect place for her castle and potentially an entire kingdom.

“This has to be the most fabulous castle in Minecraft,” Regina mused as she finally found the place to build her castle. “I want a big throne room, kitchens, chandeliers and banners. I want the whole package.”

Regina’s passionate talking about the game was absolutely adorable to you. You looked away from your game to admire her. She was focused on the screen, her brow furrowed as she was figuring out the foundation of what would soon be her castle. You couldn’t help but smile at how engrossed Regina was in the game and how relaxed she was.

“Hey,” you said softly, not wanting to break the calm and quiet that had settled over the room. “I’m glad we’re doing this together and that you’re enjoying it.”

Regina glanced at you, her expression softening as she met your eyes. “Me too,” she admitted. “I didn’t think I’d actually like this game, but… it’s kind of fun. Especially with you.”

With that, she returned to the game, her usual confidence back in place as she started issuing orders. “I need like, a lot of cobblestone, wood and probably some pink stuff for aesthetics too,”. Pink. Always the damn pink with her.

“So demanding,” you muttered, which earned you a playful glare in reply. Despite Regina’s demanding nature, there was something really attractive about seeing her take charge, even in a game.

You turned your attention back to your own screen. “I’m building a storage room here temporarily to store all the building materials, then I’ll start gathering stuff again,” you told Regina as you started building something resembling a shed.

“Good,” Regina replied, looking at where you were building in-game. “And we’ll continue tomorrow after school right?” she questioned you, trying her best to sound nonchalant.

“Yes, baby. We will.” you agreed with a chuckle, looking at your girlfriend fondly. It was a rare sight to see her so invested in something she considered to be an activity for nerds.

The next day the two of you went to Regina’s house after school again to play Minecraft. You were already logged in on your server when a message appeared in the chat.

orandge joined the game

“Uhm, baby? Who is joining our server right now? Their username is orandge,” you questioned Regina as she got the two of you something to drink. You didn’t give out the IP address of the server, so it must’ve been Regina.

“I think that’s Karen. I gifted Gretchen, Karen and Cady Minecraft so we can all play together,” Regina said excitedly as she sat down behind her laptop, logging in on the server as well.

QueenBeeRegina joined the game

“You mean to tell me that Karen managed to install Minecraft and add my server all by herself?” you looked at Regina in surprise.

Regina rolled her eyes “Karen’s just… simple. Not stupid. Surely she can install a game on her laptop on her own,” she frowned “Although… on second thought... Gretchen probably helped her.”

TheFetchest joined the game

“Well, that just confirmed my suspicions” Regina remarked as she watched Gretchen’s username appear in the chat. “She’s still hung up on making ‘fetch’ happen. So annoying,” she complained.

“I don’t know, I think her username is kinda fetch,” you replied with a smirk.

Regina shot you an unimpressed look “No.”

CadyFromKenya joined the game

“That’s the lamest name ever. She could’ve literally chosen anything else,” Regina commented with an eye roll as she saw Cady’s username.

“Be nice,” you scolded her playfully. Regina only gave you a middle finger in response.

Regina then turned her laptop towards you and opened some double chests for you to see. “I gathered some more materials last night, so we can start building.”

“I thought you were a ‘visionary’ and didn’t do resource gathering?” you teased your girlfriend with a grin.

“This was an exception, a one time thing. Gathering resources isn’t really befitting of a Queen, now is it?” Regina replied confidently with a smirk.

“You’re something else,” you shook your head in amusement, returning your attention to the game as you saw Karen type in the chat.

orandge: where are you guys???

QueenBeeRegina: I sent the coordinates in the Plastics gc

The two of you continued to build the castle as Cady, Gretchen and Karen made their way to the coordinates you were at. Karen only died twice, but that meant Cady and Gretchen had to pick her up again at the spawn twice too.

At last Regina saw Gretchen and Cady walk up to her. Cady was accompanied by well over 20 tamed wolves and two parrots on her shoulders.

QueenBeeRegina: Cady wtf

CadyFromKenya: They’re so cool right??

QueenBeeRegina: …

Suddenly, you heard a soft hiss from your game, followed by an explosion.

orandge was blown up by Creeper

orandge: oops

“Karen just let a creeper explode in my storage room,” you looked at Regina in disbelief. Regina just burst out laughing “Typical Karen.”

A part of the chests were gone and materials were scattered everywhere, including several flowers that Karen had collected in her inventory.

“Perhaps we can let Karen build the big garden around the castle, it seems like she’d like that,” you suggested to Regina as you saw the flowers she collected on her way to the castle. “Great idea,” Regina smiled.

QueenBeeRegina: Karen? You can help build the garden, just make it pretty.

orandge: yay!!! i love flowers

TheFetchest: And make sure it has a lot of pink so it fits the aesthetics, Karen

orandge: i love pink

At the end of the week the castle stood proudly on the server and Regina was satisfied with the result. Her throne room was massive, just like her throne that stood at the end of the room. She was already brainstorming new ideas for the server, the castle was just the beginning. She wouldn’t settle for anything less than a kingdom.

There were also two new additions to the server that week.

PyroLez joined the game

FierceAndFab joined the game

“Baby,” Regina started, her tone deceptively sweet, “why are they here?”

You give her a calm smile despite sensing Regina’s irritation. “I thought it would be fun. The more the merrier, right?”

PyroLez: never thought I’d see the day that the Plastics would play a video game

QueenBeeRegina: Yeah. Shut up or I’ll ban you.

FierceAndFab: you can’t ban us, that’s homophobia

QueenBeeRegina: …

Regina rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the small amused smile that creeped onto her face. “They better not mess up my castle. I swear, if they touch it it’s on you,” she looked at you pointedly. “Besides, Janis is definitely taunting me with that username,” Regina huffed.

“Probably, and it’s working,” you looked at Regina’s pouty expression. “You look adorable like that.”

“Shut up.”

You were definitely curious to see how Janis and Damian would fit into this dynamic.

#regina george imagines #regina george x reader #jromanoff fics #mean girls imagines #mean girls x reader #regina george fanfic #regina george fic #regina george fluff #regina george x you #mean girls fanfic #regina x reader #regina george imagine

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rootedinrevisions · 4 months ago

Text

Friends (with Benefits) Don't: Part 3

SUMMARY: In this part of the story, you find yourself torn between the excitement of a night out with friends and the allure of an offer for a night out with Jake, prompting you to cancel your girls' night. As you navigate the intoxicating atmosphere of a club, Jake's charm pulls you into a thrilling dance of playful flirtation and heated tension, blurring the lines of your casual arrangement. With each laugh and whispered compliment, the boundaries you set begin to waver, leading to an unexpected yet electric moment outside the club and an even more electric ending to the night.

OTHER PART(S): PART 1 I PART 2

WORD COUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. ALCOHOL USE. Dancing/Grinding.

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS BELOW

You stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way the deep blue dress hugged your curves, the fabric shimmering softly under the light. Your hair fell in loose waves around your shoulders, and you had perfected your makeup—just the right amount of eyeliner to make your eyes pop and a soft pink gloss that felt just flirty enough. Tonight was supposed to be a girls' night out, filled with laughter, dancing, and maybe a little trouble. But as you applied the final touches of your lipstick, your phone buzzed on the counter.

You picked it up, glancing at the screen to see Jake’s name flashing. A flutter of excitement danced in your stomach as you opened the message.

Hey, what are you up to tonight?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a smirk playing on your lips as you crafted your response.

Depends on who's asking.

You hit send, biting your lip in anticipation. It didn’t take long for his reply to come through.

I was thinking about hitting up this new club some of the guys have been talking about. Want to join?

Your brow arched, your heart racing a little faster. Are the guys going to care if you bring me?

Jake’s response was quick, and the straightforwardness of it made your stomach flip. Going solo. Just thought it’d be more fun with you there.

You glanced at the time, the thrill of spontaneity washing over you. The girls would understand. They always did. Without much further thought, you typed back, Okay, I’m in.

You tossed your phone onto the bed, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you hurried to grab a jacket and slip on some heels. This was a different kind of night out, one that felt charged with possibilities. The thought of being with Jake, surrounded by music and laughter, made your pulse race. It wasn’t just the thrill of the club or the drinks that awaited you—it was the promise of a night spent with him that had you feeling alive.

You slipped out the door, the cool night air hitting your skin and invigorating you as you made your way to the Uber that was waiting for you. The drive to the club was filled with excitement and a hint of nerves, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was going to be different.

The moment you stepped into the club, the music hit you—a heavy, rhythmic bass that vibrated through the floors and pulsed in your chest. The place was crowded, lights flashing overhead in sync with the beat. Jake walked beside you, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back as he guided you toward the bar. It was a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of awareness through you, making you wonder if tonight was going to blur the lines you’d set between yourselves.

When you reached the bar, Jake leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he asked, “What are you drinking? Vodka soda?”

You hesitated for a second before answering, "Y-yeah. Vodka soda’s fine."

He nodded and signaled to the bartender, ordering your drink and a beer for himself. When he pulled out his wallet and slid his card across the counter, you shot him a confused look.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said, your brows knitting together. “I can pay for my own drinks.”

Jake shrugged, a casual smile tugging at his lips. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Drinks are on me.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Normally, you paid for yourself—always had. The boundaries between you two were clear. You didn’t let anyone pay unless it was a date, and this… this wasn’t a date, right?

Suddenly, your mind started racing. Was this a date? Had you unknowingly agreed to something more? Was Jake seeing this as more than just two friends, more than the no-strings arrangement you'd carefully constructed?

But before you could spiral too far down that rabbit hole, Jake interrupted your thoughts by nudging your shoulder lightly. “Hey,” he said, his voice cutting through the noise in your head. “You good?”

You blinked up at him, startled, before forcing a smile. “Yeah, just… surprised, I guess.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, amused. “Surprised I remember your drink?”

“No, not that.” You bit your lip, glancing down at the drink in your hand. “I just wasn’t expecting you to pay.”

His grin widened, a flash of white teeth under the club's dim lighting. “Well, consider it my way of thankin’ you for joining me tonight.”

Your stomach fluttered at his words, but you pushed it down, trying to remind yourself of the boundaries. This wasn’t a date. He wasn’t crossing a line, not technically, but something about it felt… different.

Then, as if sensing the shift in your mood, Jake leaned in a little closer, his voice a teasing drawl. “So, what about dancing? Is that allowed under your rules?”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question. Dancing? You hadn’t even thought about that when you’d agreed to come. You glanced out at the dance floor, bodies swaying and grinding to the heavy beat, the heat and energy palpable even from where you stood. It wasn’t necessarily against your rules, but dancing like that... well, it could blur things.

Your hesitation must have been obvious because Jake’s lips twitched into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “What’s the verdict, darlin’? You gonna let me take you out there, or are you worried it’ll cross some imaginary line?”

There was a playful challenge in his voice, one that made your heart skip a beat. You were overthinking it, you told yourself. It was just dancing. No strings attached, just like always.

You took a deep breath, squashing down the flutter of anxiety in your chest. "Dancing's allowed," you said finally, your voice a little breathless.

Jake’s grin widened, satisfaction evident in his expression. “Good,” he murmured, his hand already reaching for yours. “Because I’m about to make you forget those rules.”

He took your hand, and you let him lead you through the crowd onto the dance floor, the energy around you vibrating with the music. At first, you moved together with a comfortable rhythm, the distance between you just enough to keep things light. But as the third song transitioned into the fourth, the atmosphere shifted.

The thumping bass of the club surrounded you, but all you could focus on was Jake's hands as they held you close, the heat between your bodies building with every passing second. The casual space between you vanished as your hips began to move in sync, the friction of your bodies sparking something hotter than either of you had planned.

“Damn, you look amazing in that dress,” he leaned in and whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You felt a thrill of confidence, a teasing grin spreading across your face. “You should see what I have on underneath it.”

You caught the way his expression shifted, his eyes darkening with desire as he let out a soft groan. “Hoping I can later,” he murmured back, his voice low and filled with promise.

Jake's hands slipped lower, resting just above your butt at first, but as you pressed your hips more boldly against him, rolling them in time with the beat, you felt his fingers tighten, sliding down to cup your ass fully. His grip was firm, possessive even, as if he couldn’t resist any longer.

You smirked at his reaction, feeling the way his body tensed against yours as you ground your hips deliberately into him. You weren’t usually this forward with him, but tonight you wanted to see just how far you could push. The bolder you became, the more Jake’s control seemed to unravel. His breath hitched, and for a split second, you felt like you had him completely off guard.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmured into your ear, his voice rough, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. "I’ve never seen you like this before."

You could hear the raw need in his voice, and it spurred you on. You moved against him again, feeling the way his body responded, and let your head fall back onto his shoulder, giving him a wicked smile. His grip on you tightened even more, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you close, his control slipping further with each movement.

"You're so damn sexy," he whispered, his lips barely grazing your jawline now, his breath warm against your skin. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, and you couldn't help but let your body respond, pressing harder against him. The heat between you was palpable, and it was clear neither of you was planning on staying at the club much longer.

Jake’s hand slid up your side, brushing the curve of your waist before returning to your hips, pulling you even closer, if that was possible. The boldness of your movements had caught him off guard, but he couldn’t deny how much he liked this side of you. He was used to you being a bit more reserved, but tonight you were anything but shy.

Jake’s hands were on you, possessive and unyielding, as your hips moved together in a slow, heated rhythm. The air around you felt thick, and you could tell he was on the edge of his control. When he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, you felt the heat of his breath as he growled low, "You wanna get out of here?"

For a second, you toyed with the idea of teasing him. Your body was thrumming with need, but something about making him wait felt just as tempting. You let a playful pout form on your lips, your eyes dancing with mischief as you turned your head slightly. "But I just got here," you said, drawing out the words, knowing exactly what you were doing. You could feel his frustration in the way his grip tightened on your hips, his hands nearly trembling with restraint.

Jake's response was immediate. He pulled you closer, so close that there wasn’t an inch of space between your bodies. His voice dropped even lower, barely audible above the music, but the words sent a jolt of heat straight through you. "If you don’t let me take you home," he whispered, his voice rough with desire, "I’m gonna have to take you right here... and I don’t think you want that."

The dirty promise in his voice made your breath catch, and before you could stop yourself, you squeezed your thighs together, the need to be closer to him overwhelming. He noticed. Of course, he noticed. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he saw the effect his words had on you, his smirk dangerous and knowing.

He leaned in again, brushing his lips against your ear with deliberate slowness. "So... you wanna get out of here?" This time, the question was more of a command than a request, and every inch of your body screamed yes.

Without missing a beat, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Jake’s hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, pulling you off the dance floor with a sense of urgency that made your pulse race. The crowd seemed to part around you as he led you toward the exit, the heat of his body pressing against yours every time someone got too close. But it didn’t matter. Your focus was solely on him—on the way his fingers intertwined with yours and the possessive grip that seemed to say you were his for the rest of the night.

As soon as the cool air of the night hit your skin, Jake’s hands were on you again, gripping your waist and tugging you against his chest. “Can’t believe you made me wait that long to get you out of there,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your temple, his hands squeezing your hips as if he couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go. The sudden movement made you stumble in your heels, but Jake steadied you, his hold shifting as he leaned down to look at you.

“You alright?” he asked a hint of laughter in his voice.

“Yeah, just—” Before you knew what was happening, he bent down and grabbed the backs of your thighs, hauling you up and flipping you over his shoulder with infuriating ease.

“Jake!” you cried out, the sudden change in perspective making you momentarily dizzy. You braced yourself against his back, laughter bubbling up in your chest as you squirmed in his hold. “Put me down!” But he didn’t budge. His arm was like a steel band wrapped around your legs, holding you firmly in place.

“Not a chance, darlin’,” he drawled, completely unbothered as he strode confidently through the parking lot, each step making you bounce slightly on his shoulder. You glanced up, seeing a few curious onlookers watching with amused expressions, but Jake seemed unfazed, his focus solely on you. The sight of his broad back, the way his muscles shifted under his shirt as he carried you, made your stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with the angle you were at.

“Jake Seresin, you put me down right now!” you demanded, even though laughter threaded through your voice, your hands pushing at his back. All you got in response was a smug chuckle, his grip unyielding as he carried you effortlessly across the parking lot.

He kept his word, not letting you go until he reached his truck and set you carefully on your feet beside it. You swayed for a second, your legs still trembling from the sudden shift, and Jake’s hands settled on your waist again, holding you steady as he leaned in.

“There,” he murmured softly, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your hipbone. “No more falling, okay?”

You looked up at him, breathless and flushed, your heart pounding in your chest. “You didn’t have to carry me.”

His eyes darkened, the intensity in them making your stomach flutter. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to put my hands on you,” he said, his voice low and rough, filled with unspoken desire.

With one swift motion, his hand slid behind your head, fingers tangling in your hair, and in an instant, his lips were on yours. The kiss was hot—heated, almost desperate. It wasn’t soft or tentative; it was full of hunger, the tension from inside the club finally boiling over. His mouth moved against yours with a possessive edge, claiming you in a way that sent a rush of heat straight through your body.

The sharp nip of his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging it lightly before he soothed it with his tongue, and you let out a soft, breathy sound that only seemed to spur him on. Your fingers instinctively fisted into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as your body leaned into his, craving more of that fire, more of the heat that crackled between you two like electricity.

Every nerve in your body was on edge, hyper-aware of how close he was, how his hand in your hair held you in place while his other hand brushed against your hip, gripping just tight enough to make you feel grounded despite the chaos raging in your mind.

As you pulled away from the kiss, your breath heavy and uneven, Jake gave you a puzzled look. His brows furrowed slightly as if trying to figure out what went wrong.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low and still thick with desire. “Did I do something?”

You hesitated for a moment, the words tangling in your throat before you finally managed to speak. “You kissed me.”

Jake blinked in surprise, then let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Sweetheart,” he said, his lips curving into a smirk, “I’ve done a lot more than that to you.”

You bit your lip, shifting uncomfortably as the reality of the kiss hit you. “Yeah, but… you’ve never kissed me before.”

His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion like he was trying to find the issue with what you were saying. He tilted his head, clearly not seeing the problem. “Kissing’s just foreplay for what’s about to happen,” he pointed out, his voice smooth, the words slipping out like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You felt your heart racing, the anxiety creeping into your chest as you struggled to shake the thoughts swirling in your mind. He was right—this wasn’t anything new. It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of what always happened between the two of you, just another step before you ended up tangled in his sheets.

But something about it still made your heart skip a beat. You pushed the feeling aside, determined to silence that small voice inside that was overthinking everything.

Jake leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, and his warm breath sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re thinkin’ too much,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. “When I get you back to your place, I’m gonna have to clear that pretty little head of yours.”

His words went straight to your core, and you felt the tension in your body release slightly, your earlier hesitation fading away. You knew what this was, and you weren’t about to let your overthinking ruin the moment. You let out a shaky breath, your mind slowly untangling itself as you nodded.

Jake smirked, his eyes dark with intent as his hand tightened around your waist. “That’s better,” he murmured, before pressing one more heated kiss to your lips. “Now get in,” he said as he motioned toward the truck, his thumb tracing idle circles on your hip as he waited for you to move.

For a second, you just stood there, staring up at him. His expression was relaxed, but there was a simmering intensity beneath the surface that made your skin tingle. This thing between you two... it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It wasn’t supposed to make your heart flutter or your stomach flip. But here you were, melting under his touch, wanting him in a way that scared you.

Shaking off the thought, you turned and climbed up into the truck, settling into the passenger seat as you tried to calm your racing heart. Jake shut the door behind you, then jogged around to the driver’s side, sliding in beside you with an ease that made everything he did seem effortless.

The truck rumbled down the dark road, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you. Jake had one hand resting casually on the steering wheel, the other draped lazily on his thigh, his thumb tapping lightly to some rhythm only he seemed to hear. The night was quiet, except for the faint thrum of your pulse still racing from the club and everything that had happened so far.

A sudden chill swept over you, and you shivered, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself. Jake glanced over at you, his eyes flicking between you and the road.

“You cold?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the goosebumps on your arms betrayed you.

Without another word, Jake reached up and turned down the air conditioning, the cool blast fading to a more bearable breeze. But then, with his free hand, he reached into the backseat, rummaging around for a second before tossing something into your lap. Surprised, you looked down to see a worn Navy sweatshirt sprawled across your legs.

You blinked, glancing up at him with a confused look. “What’s this?”

“Put it on,” he said simply, his eyes still focused on the road, but a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You hesitated for a moment before slipping the sweatshirt over your head. It was warm, the soft fabric comforting against your skin. As you settled into it, the faint scent of him lingered in the fabric—something woodsy and clean, unmistakably Jake. You took a deep breath, feeling an odd sense of calm wash over you.

“Better?” he asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, better.”

Jake returned your smile with one of his own before reaching over, his hand settling on your thigh. His touch was warm, the weight of his hand a reassuring presence as his fingers lightly brushed against your skin. He didn’t say anything more, just kept his hand there as he focused on the road ahead, guiding you both toward your place.

The simple gesture—his sweatshirt, his hand on your leg—felt unexpectedly intimate. But in the quiet of the drive, it didn’t feel too heavy or complicated. It was just Jake being Jake, the line between you both blurring for a moment but never fully crossed.

As Jake continued driving, the quiet rumble of the truck and the gentle sway of the road lulled you into a drowsy haze. The warmth of his sweatshirt, soft and comforting against your skin, combined with the alcohol humming through your veins, sent you slipping into sleep before you even realized it. Jake noticed, his lips curving into a small, amused smile. You looked peaceful, bundled up in his sweatshirt, just like the angel he always teased you about being.

When he pulled up to your place, he cut the engine and moved around the truck. Gently opening the door, Jake leaned in, his fingers expertly unbuckling your seatbelt without disturbing you too much. But as his arms slid under you to lift you, you stirred, blinking awake and looking around in confusion.

"You're home," he murmured softly, his voice low and reassuring as he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your front door.

He set you down gently, his strong hands steadying you as your feet hit the ground. The weight of the moment hit you, and with it, the realization of what had been the unspoken plan for the night. The two of you had been on this track from the moment he asked if you wanted to get out of there. But now, standing in front of your door, sleep still tugging at your eyelids and the warmth of his sweatshirt making you feel oddly safe, you hesitated.

You knew what Jake was expecting. And, honestly, part of you wanted it, too. But another part just wanted to curl up in bed, the softness of his sweatshirt wrapped around you, and drift off to sleep.

Except... that felt weird, right? You don't wear the sweatshirt of your casual fling. You don’t cuddle up in it like it’s something more than it is.

As if reading your mind, Jake shifted slightly and broke the silence. "We talked about what was gonna happen tonight," he reminded you, his tone light, no pressure in his words.

You swallowed, the weight of the evening settling over you. "Yeah... Do you hate me if I take a rain check?" you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

Jake scoffed, his lips quirking up into that familiar crooked smile. "Hate you? Come on, sweetheart. Not a chance," he said, brushing it off like it was nothing. He leaned in a little closer. "Get some sleep. We’ll figure the rest out later."

Relief washed over you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Thanks, Jake. Get home safe, okay?"

He nodded, gave you one last lingering look, then turned and headed back to his truck. You watched him until he disappeared down the street, then slipped inside your place, closing the door behind you.

As you made your way to your room, your mind was still buzzing. You quickly tugged Jake’s sweatshirt off, tossing it onto your bed before shimmying out of your dress. As the fabric fell to the floor, you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror—the lacy set of lingerie you’d chosen specifically for tonight staring back at you, a reminder of what you’d expected to happen. You sighed. It felt strange, wearing something like this for a casual fling. Too intimate. Too much.

You grabbed a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt, sliding into them quickly before catching sight of Jake’s sweatshirt again.

The apartment was a little chilly tonight, and, after all, if he really wanted it back, he would have asked for it, right? Before you could overthink it anymore, you reached out, pulling the soft fabric over your head and curling up in bed.

The warmth of it, and the faint scent of him lingering in the fabric, wrapped around you like a comforting embrace as you pulled the blankets up and let your eyes drift closed.

A few hours later you were pulled from your sleep, your phone lit up on the nightstand. You picked it up, heart skipping a beat when you saw Jake's name flashing on the screen. With a mix of curiosity and excitement, you swiped to answer.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked, a hint of concern in your voice.

“Yeah, it’s just… I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, his tone slightly shy. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Relief washed over you, even if you didn’t want to admit it. “Oh.”

“I didn’t wake you up, right sweetheart?”

“N-no. I was just trying to fall asleep, but I hadn’t yet,” you lied.

He chuckled softly, and the sound warmed you. “Same here. Just can’t stop replaying the night over and over.”

You settled into your pillows, your heart fluttering as you listened to him talk about the club, the way you had lit up the dance floor, how beautiful you looked in that dress.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, teasing and flirting, sharing thoughts and dreams until the world outside faded into nothingness.

Before you knew it, the soft cadence of your voices turned to whispers, the late hour pulling at you both. As the conversation drifted, you felt your eyelids growing heavy.

And just like that, you both succumbed to the weariness of the day, the phone resting between you as sleep overtook you. The last thing you heard was Jake's soft breathing on the other end, a rhythm that matched your own as you drifted into dreams—dreams colored with the promise of what was to come and the undeniable connection that had sparked between you two.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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delicatebarness · 8 months ago

Text

the manuscript | chapter two

Summary: My office, tomorrow.

Warnings: Age Gap. (Dr Barnes: late 40s & Reader: early 20s)

Word Count: 1630

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A/N: I'm done. I can't handle the heat. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @mostlymarvelgirl | @mrsnikstan | @angelbabyyy99

“𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡 𝐈 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐀𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐘𝐞𝐭, 𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲…”

Hitting the delete key repeatedly, the sound echoed throughout the library’s peaceful atmosphere. You sighed, watching the blinking cursor on your laptop screen, it felt like an accusatory eye. Frustrated, you leaned back in your chair.

You were determined to write something profound after your encounter with Dr. Barnes, that echoed the depth he had challenged you to explore. Each of your attempts felt inadequate. His words replayed in your mind: “Exploring parts of yourself that you’re the most afraid of, most afraid to reveal.”

Staring at the screen, your fingers flew across the keyboard, paragraphs appearing and disappearing. Doubt crept in, every time you thought you had a handle on it. You began to feel isolated as the dim lighting and occasional rustle of pages surrounded you.

The intensity in Dr. Barnes’ eyes when he spoke about vulnerability, wandered back into your thoughts. Something in his presence that left you unsettled, in a way you didn’t understand, stirring feelings you aren’t ready to confront.

Just as you began typing again, Peter appeared in front of you. “Hey,” he whispered leaning over the table to kiss you. “Thought I’d find you here,” he continued to whisper, sitting opposite you. “How’s the assignments going?”

You forced a smile. “Вообще-то, как-то застрял.”

His brows furrowed as you switched to Russian, leaning over the table again, his eyes searched yours as if trying to decipher code. “Sorry, baby, I didn’t catch that,” he admitted, a playful smirk spreading across his lips.

You smiled again, this time a genuine one. “I said I’m a bit stuck with the assignment,” you translated roughly, your voice filled with amusement.

“Oh,” he replied, his gaze lingered on you, desire danced in his eyes. “You know,” his voice dropped to a husky whisper, “there’s something incredibly… hot about you speaking Russian.”

A heat rose to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air, his gaze intense and filled with a warm desire. However, despite his playful demeanor, something cast a shadow over what should have been a moment of intimacy.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of disconnection as he leaned in closer. It was as if you were playing for cameras, following a script and cues without feeling true passion behind the actions.

With a hesitant smile, you lacked the genuine spark that should ignite between two people in love. The chemistry you once had shared evaporated over the years, leaving behind awkward silences.

Peter withdrew, disappointment flickering over his features. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” he murmured. You offered a weak smile as you nodded in acknowledgment.

“Thanks, Peter,” you replied as he stood from the table. As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel guilt at the lost connection. You knew the distance between you was widening with each passing day, and deep down, you knew that forcing something that wasn’t there, only lead to further heartache.

Turning back to your laptop with a heavy sigh, the assignment suddenly feels more daunting. As you typed, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you, the realization that true passion couldn’t be manufactured– it has to come from within you.

Delving deeper into your work, you focused on excavating raw emotions buried beneath the surface.

An email notification popped into the corner of your screen, distracting you from your work. Curious, you clicked on it, revealing a message from Dr. Barnes.

The subject line simply read: My office, tomorrow.

Your pulse quickened with anticipation as you read the contents of the email. Dr. Barnes has requested you meet him at his office the following day, excitement filled you as you sent a reply, confirming his request.

Dr. Barnes' had bolstered your confidence but also intensified the tension you held toward him. As you walked to his office door, you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your stomach as you knocked lightly, his nameplate gleaming in the afternoon light.

“Come in,” his voice called from within.

Dr. Barnes was seated at his desk when you opened the door, stepping inside. Papers spread out before him. He looked up with a smile. “Miss Spector, please have a seat.”

“Thank you,” you said, accepting his offer as you took the chair opposite him. The room was quiet, the faint ticking of a clock on the wall and his rustle of papers.

He studied you as he leaned back in his chair, taking a moment before speaking. “I’m glad you came, I wanted to discuss your writing in more detail. You have a lot of potential, but there are areas where you can dig deeper.”

You nodded, the weight of his gaze felt heavy. “I appreciate that, Dr. Barnes. I want my writing to be as… captivating as possible.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low. “Tell me, what holds you back from being completely honest in your writing?”

You hesitated, he caught you off guard with his question. “I guess… I’m struggling with finding a personal angle that feels… significant enough,” you admitted.

His gaze never left yours as he nodded. “Significance often lies in the depths of vulnerability,” he said softly. “It’s about revealing parts of ourselves that we’re most afraid to confront.”

His words struck a chord within you, “I understand,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as a shiver ran down your spine.

Dr. Barnes leaned forward slightly, unwavering his gaze. “What are you most afraid of, Miss Spector?” he asked, resting his chin against his fist.

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat as the air between you crackled with tension. The weight of his question hung heavy in the room.

“I…” you began, yet the words caught in your throat. How could you admit to him your fears? How could you reveal the darkest corners of your soul?

He leaned even closer, his gaze boring into yours. “Trust me,” he murmured, his voice became almost audible. “I’m here to help you explore those fears.”

Gathering your courage, you took a deep breath. “I’m afraid of being rejected,” you confessed. “You know, pouring my heart out onto the page and having it dismissed,” you explained, half truly.

Dr. Barnes nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s a common fear,” his voice low and husky as he acknowledges. He paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair before standing. His movements were deliberate as he walked closer to you. “But, it’s also where the most heartfelt writing comes from.” He picked up a pen from his desk, tapping it lightly against the surface. “When you write from a place of… sensitivity, you create something genuine and powerful.”

The mere proximity sent a jolt of electricity through you. There was a flicker of understanding, but also something else, an undercurrent of desire that caught you off guard. “So… I need to embrace that fear and write anyway?” you asked with a pang of uncertainty in your voice.

“Exactly,” he affirmed, his eyes locked with yours again, looking down at you while your heart raced. “It’s about channeling that fear into your writing, use it as fuel for your creativity rather than holding you back.”

Your pulse quickened as he spoke, his presence seemed to envelop you, and you found yourself leaning forward, drawn to him by an irresistible invisible force. The space between you shrunk, the air heavy with anticipation.

“And, how do I get past that fear?” you asked, your voice whispering as the words hung between you.

Now only inches away from you, he loomed over you. “It’s not about getting past it,” he said softly, “it’s about acknowledging it and pushing through it.”

The temptation to bridge the gap between you was almost overwhelming, but you resisted. The tension between you escalated with each passing second.

“Every writer encounters rejection,” he murmured, lowering himself to your eye level. His voice was soft, whispering. “But, it’s those who persist, and push through, who succeed.” His face was so close that your breath caught in your throat.

“Trust your voice and your perspective.” he urged, his gaze locking with yours, captivating you in his presence.

Desire swirled in your veins as your heart raced. The space between you charged with a longing that seemed to pull you closer together.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, shifting slightly in the chair. “I’ll try to write despite the fear.”

He smiled a soft, warm, and genuine smile that made you weak in the knees. “Good girl,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of danger and temptation. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.”

With that, he stood up and moved behind his desk, the distance between you feeling insurmountable.

In the solitude of your own space, you were focused on the tantalizing possibility of what could have been. The allure of your professor lingered a forbidden temptation that thrilled yet terrified you.

You tried to push your desires to the back of your mind, but despite everything you tried, they still danced around your consciousness: teasing you. Crossing that line would have consequences, and you knew that, but the pull was almost impossible to resist.

Sitting down at your desk, you took a deep breath and let the words flow from your fingertips with a newfound inspiration. One fueled by the raw emotions stirred within you by the enigmatic presence of Dr. Barnes. In the depths of your writing, you found a sense of liberation, and freedom to explore your biggest fear, him.

---

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#the manuscript series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #professor!bucky x student!reader #professor!bucky #spector!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic

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criminally-chill · 3 months ago

Text

Fireworks

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Category: Fluff

————————

It’s late, and the bullpen is quiet except for the soft hum of computers and the occasional sound of Emily tapping her fingers against the keyboard. She’s sitting across from me, hunched over her laptop, her brow furrowed in that familiar way that tells me she’s deep in thought—and, more importantly, that she’s been working too hard for too long.

We’ve been at this for hours, chasing leads, piecing together profiles, and waiting for something to click. But tonight, Emily looks… tense. Tired, yes, but more than that—almost restless. The weight of the case is pressing down on her, and I know her well enough to see that she’s starting to unravel, even if she won’t admit it.

I close my own laptop, deciding it’s time for an intervention. Emily won’t give herself a break, so I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands.

“Hey,” I say softly, reaching across the desk to get her attention. “Come with me.”

She barely looks up, mumbling something about “just needing to finish this part.” But I’m not letting her talk her way out of this one. I reach out and gently tug her hand until she finally meets my gaze. She looks exhausted, the lines around her eyes more pronounced under the harsh office lights.

“Emily,” I say, my voice firm but gentle, “five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

She sighs, and I can see the reluctance in her eyes. I know she doesn’t like leaving things unfinished, but finally, she gives in, letting me pull her out of her chair. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

I grin, squeezing her hand. “Not a chance.”

Together, we walk up the stairs, past the empty offices and up to the roof. The cool night air hits us as soon as we step outside, and Emily shivers, pulling her blazer tighter around herself. I notice immediately and shrug off my own coat, wrapping it around her shoulders before she can protest.

She glances up at me, a little surprised, but doesn’t say anything as she adjusts the coat and snuggles into the warmth. I step up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. For a moment, we just stand there in comfortable silence, taking in the crisp night air and the quiet that stretches out over the city.

Then, as if on cue, fireworks start up in the distance, lighting up the skyline in bursts of red, blue, and gold. I feel Emily relax against me, her body softening as she watches the colors dance across the sky.

“Did you plan this?” she murmurs, leaning back into me with a soft smile.

“Oh, yeah,” I reply, my voice close to her ear. “Just called up the city and asked them to set off some fireworks to help you relax. They’re big fans of your work, you know.”

She laughs, a sound that’s warm and soft, and I feel some of the tension leave her shoulders. “Obviously. They must know I’m working on a major breakthrough.”

I chuckle, tightening my arms around her. “Yes, because if anyone deserves a personal fireworks show, it’s Emily Prentiss. You practically have your own fan club.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the glimmer of amusement in her expression. “A fan club, huh? Well, I suppose it’s not the worst thing to have. Even if my fan club insists on dragging me up to the freezing rooftop instead of letting me work.”

I nudge her playfully, resting my cheek against hers. “Oh, please. You’re the one who won’t take a break. Even superheroes need to recharge, you know.”

She scoffs, but there’s a hint of playfulness in her voice. “Since when am I a superhero?”

“Since the day you joined the BAU,” I reply, without a hint of hesitation. “I mean, look at everything you’ve done. All the lives you’ve saved. If that’s not superhero material, I don’t know what is.”

Emily’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently as we stand there in silence, watching the fireworks. The colors cast a glow over her face, and for a moment, I’m struck by how beautiful she looks. Tired, maybe, and a little worn out, but still so strong and resilient.

After a while, she sighs, a soft sound that’s almost lost in the noise of the fireworks. “You know, I was just getting to the breakthrough part. Five more minutes, and I would’ve cracked the case.”

“Oh, absolutely,” I tease, smirking. “I’m sure the case didn’t stand a chance against you and your spreadsheets. But even you need a break sometimes, Em.”

She lets out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous? I’m keeping you sane.” I press a light kiss to her cheek, smiling as her hand tightens around mine. “Think of it as part of the job description: married to the Unit Chief, which means I’m responsible for making sure you don’t work yourself into the ground.”

She leans back against me, her head resting on my shoulder. “I suppose I should be grateful, then. Not everyone has a partner willing to drag them out into the cold for a ‘break.’”

I laugh, nuzzling into her hair. “You’re very lucky, Prentiss. Not everyone gets a coat and a cuddle as part of their relaxation therapy.”

She chuckles again, softer this time, and turns her head to look at me. Her eyes are warm, filled with that familiar spark of mischief. “You know, sometimes I think you might actually enjoy dragging me away from work.”

“Guilty,” I admit, grinning. “But it’s only because I care. Besides, who else is going to look after you if I don’t?”

She’s quiet for a moment, her gaze softening as she studies me. Then, almost shyly, she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. It’s warm, tender, and just enough to make my heart skip a beat.

When she pulls back, she looks more relaxed, the tension in her face gone. “Thank you,” she says, her voice barely a whisper.

“For what?” I ask, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

“For this,” she replies, gesturing to the rooftop, the fireworks, and the quiet moment we’ve carved out of the night. “For knowing when I need to step back… even when I don’t.”

I smile, holding her close. “Anytime, Em. I’m not going anywhere.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, just watching the fireworks light up the sky. The city stretches out below us, the sounds of distant traffic blending with the crackle and pop of the fireworks. It’s just us up here, wrapped in each other’s warmth, far from the chaos of the case that awaits us downstairs.

After a while, Emily shifts in my arms, turning to look at me with a smirk. “So… are you going to take credit for the fireworks, too?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I reply, grinning. “In fact, I think they should add it to my BAU credentials. ‘Spouse, profiler, and occasional firework coordinator.’”

She laughs, a soft, genuine sound, and for a moment, I forget about the case, the files, and the long hours waiting for us. It’s just us, up here in this quiet corner of the world, stealing a moment of peace together.

I press one last kiss to her temple, feeling the weight of the day slip away. Soon enough, we’ll go back inside, back to the case and the endless chase for answers. But for now, with Emily in my arms and the city alive with color below us, everything feels just right.

And for this moment, that’s all that matters.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds #criminal minds x oc #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female oc #emily prentiss fandom #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #fanfic #famfiction

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

Note

Wolf pack X Gn!reader prompt

Reader can’t sleep so they decided to text (your preferred characters) that they aren’t tired.

It was only soon after sent as ‘seen’ and the reader is confused why, that was until they hear a knock on their window only to see them shirtless.

Reader opens the door and lets them in only to be pushed in bed and starts cuddling each other!

Reader then falls asleep beside them😌

We will be using Seth because he gives off major puppy vibes like he would be there in a heartbeat

↱ whenever, wherever, however ↰

➘ summary : Seth will always be there for his partner, no matter how faraway they maybe, where their at or who their with. If there’s a will then theirs a way

➘ Seth Clearwater x gender neutral reader

➘ a/n : remember guys, if he wanted to he would find a way

The room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of a phone screen. (Y/N) lay in bed, tossing and turning as sleep eluded them. The soft hum of the night surrounded them, and the digital clock on the bedside table blinked 1:23 AM.

With a sigh, (Y/N) reached for their phone, their fingers dancing across the screen as they opened a message to their boyfriend, Seth.

(Y/N): Hey, you up?

It didn't take long for a reply to come through, the notification casting a pale light across the room.

Seth: Yeah, I'm still awake. Why're you up?

(Y/N) hesitated, fingers hovering over the virtual keyboard before they started typing.

(Y/N): I can't seem to sleep. Just not tired, I guess.

(Y/N) stared at their phone for a moment after sending the text, a flicker of confusion crossing their features. Seth's usually swift responses were nowhere to be found, leaving them wondering if he had indeed fallen asleep.

Just as they were about to set their phone aside and attempt to get some rest, a soft but distinct tapping sound echoed in the quiet of the night. The noise was coming from their window. (Y/N)'s eyes widened, their heart pounding with surprise as they glanced towards the source of the sound.

Hesitating only for a moment, (Y/N) got up from their bed, their feet padding softly across the floor. Their curiosity piqued, they approached the window cautiously, pulling back the curtain to reveal the unexpected sight.

There, outside the window, stood Seth. His bare chest was illuminated by the moonlight, his breath visible in the crisp night air. His out-of-breath grin was infectious, and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a mixture of surprise and amusement.

As their eyes met, Seth's grin widened, and he pressed his hand against the glass as if reaching out to them. "Let me in, babe. It's cold out here."

(Y/N)'s surprise gave way to a bemused smile as they quickly unlocked the window and pushed it open. The cool night air rushed in, but it was accompanied by the warmth of Seth's presence. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Seth climbed through the window, his movements slightly awkward due to his haste. Once he was inside, he stood up straight, his expression a mix of sheepishness and excitement. "Well, since you said you couldn't sleep, I thought I'd bring the company to you."

(Y/N)'s amusement grew, and they couldn't help but shake their head at his antics. "You couldn't just send another text?"

Seth chuckled, his eyes locking onto theirs with affection. "Where's the fun in that?"

With a soft laugh, (Y/N) closed the window behind Seth, the warmth of their room enveloping them both. "You're something else, you know that?"

Seth's grin remained as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around (Y/N)'s waist. "Just doing my part to make sure you're not up alone."

As his warmth seeped into (Y/N), they leaned into his embrace, their forehead resting against his. "I appreciate it, Seth. It's nice to have you here."

Seth's gaze softened, his fingers gently lifting their chin. "I'll always be here for you, (Y/N). Even if it means showing up at your window in the middle of the night."

The tenderness in his words was undeniable, and (Y/N) felt a rush of gratitude for the unity they shared. With Seth by their side, even the sleepless nights seemed a little less daunting.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside seemed to fade away. The night was cold, but their connection was warm, reminding them that even in the darkness, unity and love had the power to light up their lives.

Seth's playful strength surprised (Y/N) as he gently pushed them both back onto the bed, their laughter filling the room. Their bodies relaxed into the mattress, the comfort of their shared space enveloping them.

As their laughter subsided, Seth's head lowered, coming to rest against (Y/N)'s. He looked at them with a mixture of fondness and concern. "You know, we should really try to get some sleep. Staying up too late can mess with your everyday routine."

(Y/N) couldn't help but chuckle at his earnestness, his concern endearing. "Oh, come on, Seth. One restless night won't harm me."

Seth's lips curved into a smile, and he let out a gentle sigh. "You're probably right, but I still don't want you to be tired. You know how important it is to take care of yourself."

(Y/N) met his gaze, their fingers reaching out to gently brush against his cheek. "I appreciate your concern, Seth. It's sweet.”

Seth's eyes held a warmth that mirrored the depth of his feelings. "I care about you, (Y/N). Your well-being matters to me."

The sincerity in his voice tugged at (Y/N)'s heartstrings, reminding them of the unity they shared and the depth of their connection. "I know, and I'm lucky to have you looking out for me."

Seth's fingers intertwined with theirs, their hands creating a bridge between them. "Just promise me that if you start feeling too tired, you'll take a break and rest."

(Y/N) leaned in, their foreheads touching once again as they smiled at each other. "Deal. I'll take care of myself."

Seth's smile widened, and he pressed a soft kiss to their forehead. "Good. Now, let's try to get some sleep, okay?"

With Seth's presence beside them, (Y/N) felt a sense of reassurance. As they closed their eyes, they could feel the weight of the night lifting, replaced by a soothing calm. The unity they shared wasn't just about being together; it was about caring for each other's well-being, understanding the importance of rest and rejuvenation.

In the darkness of the room, (Y/N) felt Seth's presence beside them, a reminder that they were never alone. The world outside might be quiet, but the unity they shared spoke volumes, promising that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

501 notes · View notes

lnfours · 1 year ago

Text

bad idea, right? | c.l16

summary -> and i told my friends i was asleep, but i never said where or in whose sheets

wc -> 2k

warnings -> me not knowing french (feel free to correct me pls 🫶🏻), making out, drinking, hooking up with your situationship, secretly pining for one another, fluff towards the end. unedited and shitty writing. for the charles girls who listen to olivia rodrigo <3

masterlist | ask box | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

if there was one thing lando norris didn’t understand the meaning of, it was subtle.

the music from the living room was booming off the walls, people littered in every open space of the house. red plastic cups were littered on every flat surface, the party lights lighting up everyone’s faces as they laughed, sang and danced.

you were sitting on the couch with the guys who had turned up, a fake smile plastered on your face as they all shared the same stories about one another you had heard 100 times. it wasn’t because you didn’t care, it was because of the lack of presence by a certain someone.

you had thrown on one of your best dresses, secretly hoping that it would catch charles’ attention tonight. however, much to your dismay, he didn’t show. as lando said, he ‘wasn’t feeling well’.

you knew it was a cop out of an excuse to come, but then again you couldn’t really blame him. you two were rocky, and there was no hiding it. everyone knew that the two of you were always back and forth, and at this point even you weren’t really sure what was going on. it was always one step forward and then three steps back, neither one of you wanting to fully jump in head first into something that had such real feelings. a little too real, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

you were pulled away from the conversation as your phone buzzed in your hand, the screen lighting up your face as you read the notification.

instagram:

charles_leclerc replied to your story: you look beautiful, chérie. where are you off to?

you hesitated for a moment before clicking onto the notification, the dms opening as you read his comment underneath the photo you had posted to your story a mere 20 minutes ago. you were posing in the mirror, showing off your dress as you smiled.

did you post it for him specifically to see? maybe, but no one had to know that. your fingers tapped against the keyboard quickly.

lando’s, which seems to be lacking your presence

the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message almost immediately after you had sent it. you swallowed thickly as the bubbles appeared on his side of the chat, taking what felt like years for it to turn into a sentence.

were you counting on me to show?

you bit down on your lower lip, locking your phone as soon as you pressed the ‘send’ button.

perhaps. i don’t wear red often, you know

the sound of your name brought you back down to earth. your head snapped to the man next to you, smiling softly, “hmm?”

“you okay?” lewis asked, concern lining his voice. you nodded back at the driver, waving him off.

“just a little tired, s’all.”

the damn buzz sucked you back in as you read the words appearing on your lockscreen.

if i had known you had worn this for me, i definitely would’ve made an appearance

another buzz.

and please, we both know you look ravishing in red. you should wear it more often, amour. it suits you

you double tapped the second message, fingers hovering over the keyboard as you silently debated sending what you were thinking.

fuck it, it’s fine.

are you actually ‘not feeling well’ or was that just an excuse to be a homebody?

i had plans with this girl named ‘netflix’, but for you i can rearrange

you smiled softly to yourself. why are you giving into this? you’re just going to catch feelings and keep going around and around with him in this stupid game-

pick me up, charles?

don’t have to ask twice. see you in 20

you liked his message, locking your phone as you went back to the ongoing conversation between the boys in front of you. lando was slurring slightly as he was telling the story of how he had first met you to daniel, having mutual friends.

and somehow, charles’ name had gotten brought up.

“so are you and him…?” daniel asked, eyebrows pinched together. you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. play it cool. they can’t know.

“no, i’m not seeing him,” you lied, “sick of going around and around with him in endless circles.”

everyone nodded, a few of them saying ‘good for you’s and ‘rightfully so’s. if only they actually knew where you were going to be the rest of the night.

your phone buzzed in your lap.

parked a few houses down

planning my escape route now

this time, he double tapped your message, a small heart appearing on the bottom corner of it. you took in a breath, softly sighing as you went to stand.

“sorry to leave so early, boys, but i’m starting to get tired.”

you were reciprocated with ‘boo’s and ‘cmon, stay a little longer’s, but you laughed and shook your head.

“sorry, stass is already outside waiting for me.” you hated lying to them, but it was the only way.

stass, your roommate, would kill you if she really knew who was waiting for you outside and where you really were going.

you said your goodbyes, making your way through the sea of people as you headed out the front door. you looked to the right, spotting charles leaning against the hood of the red ferrari sitting underneath the streetlight a few houses down. you made your way over, smiling softly as you watched his eyes shift from your head to your heels. you were standing in front of him now as he looked at you with soft eyes, a smile on his face.

“as i suspected,” he smiled, “that dress is even better in person.”

you smiled back, pointing to the side of your lips, “you’ve got a bit of drool there, char.”

you both snickered as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the passenger side door, “fermez-la.”

he opened the door, letting you climb in before he shut it after making sure your feet were all the way in. you watched as he walked around the front of the car, opening his own door before sliding inside.

he looked over at you, eyes taking in your figure again, “tu es belle,”

you smiled again, your heart pounding as he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from your face. you fought back the urge to nuzzle into his palm, his green eyes searching yours. you weren’t sure who leaned in first, but in what felt like a matter of seconds, you were leaning over the console as he kissed you passionately.

your fingers found the back of his neck, carding them through the strands on the back of his head. his had cupped your cheek, and everything about it seemed so right.

you found yourself shifting in your seat, slipping your heels off as you climbed over the console and straddled his lap. his hands gripped at your waist as you wrapped your own around his neck. his pupils were blown, lips puffy from kissing, hair fluffy from you running your fingers through it, and everything about him right now just looked so so good.

you leaned back down and met his lips, his soon traveling to the corner of your mouth, your jaw and eventually your neck. you sighed contently, leaning your head the opposite direction to give him more room. you went to shift your weight to get more comfortable, but you had accidentally grinded down on his hips. he groaned against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his teeth grazed against the skin on your collarbone.

“my place?” he breathed out, leaving wet, open mouth kisses against your skin. his accent was getting thicker with each passing second your hands were on him, a sign that he was on the same page as you.

you nodded, “stass would kill me and you if you walked through the door.”

he chuckled softly, “yeah, i’d like to make it to see 26,”

you laughed softly, climbing back into your own seat and clicking in the seatbelt as he started the car. the rest of the drive was relatively quiet, except for charles’ playlist playing softly through the radio. his right hand found its place on your leg, his thumb moving slowly up and down the skin absentmindedly. you smiled out of the window, sure morally this wasn’t the best idea, but he makes every wrong decision feel so right.

once you arrived at his building and parked the car in the underground structure, the two of you made your way up to his apartment. he fished for the keys out of his pocket, you leaning your head on his shoulder, basking in the smell of his expensive cologne and the smell of his shampoo, the same scent that would linger for days whenever he’d sleep on your pillows. a smell you could never get enough of, the smell of home no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

once the door was opened and he placed his things by the door, the two of you were kicking off your shoes. you squealed as his arms wrapped around you, picking you up off the hardwood floor as he carried you down the hallway.

“charles!” you laughed. you could hear his chuckles as they echoed off the walls, his bedroom door opening as he placed you down softly on his sheets.

“i love it when you say my name,” his smirk sent shivers down your spine, his eyes scanning over your features for maybe the hundredth time tonight, “say it again.”

“charles,” you smiled back, his own smile lighting up his face, dimples making themselves prominent.

“again,” he urged and you laughed, shaking your head.

“no, i’m not saying it again.”

“please,” he pouted, “it sounds so good coming from you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully, giving in, because who could say no to him?

“charles,” you said it dramatically this time, “there. happy?”

“je t’aime.” he didn’t mean to say it, it kind of just spilled out of his mouth without a second thought. you blinked at him, waiting for him to mumble a ‘i take it back’ or ‘i wasn’t supposed to say that’, but his green eyes searched yours, a small smile on his lips.

was it worth going around and around in circles with him just to hear him say it? maybe, just a little bit.

okay, maybe a lot.

“char,” you whispered, he shook his head.

“i know you’re not ready, i’m not asking you to say it back right now, i just really needed to get it off my chest.”

the thing was, you loved him, too. you weren’t sure how to say it, but it physically hurt how much you loved him. it was like you were starved of oxygen before you met him, like he was your sun and you were beaming and glowing whenever he was around. you’d follow him anywhere, as long as he was yours.

sure, admitting it out loud was scary, but it was something you had already come to terms with. no one knew you like he did, and no one knew him like you did.

“i love you, too.” your arms linked around his neck as he smiled back down at you, a genuine smile. a smile so warm and bright that it made your heart beat a little bit faster.

“sois à moi,” he mumbled softly, “for real this time. no more 2am texts, no more circles, no more complications or sneaking around, just us. together, like how it should’ve been in the first place.”

“i’ve always been yours, charles.” it was true, wether he knew it or not.

“let me take you out,” he said, “a proper dinner, something you deserve.”

“only if you take me to that restaurant in the city,” you said, “the one with the fancy candles on the table.”

“anywhere you want, chérie,” he said, “as long as you wear this dress again.”

you smiled, “i suppose i can make that work.”

he leaned down and slowly kissed your lips, “so we have a deal?”

you nodded, your nose bumping his, “deal.”

460 notes · View notes

marsplastic13 · 7 months ago

Text

'Complicated' (part 7) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 5.6k notes: I can't wait for your opinions on this one

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @luffysprincess

‘Kaz’

‘Baby’

‘Love’

‘What??’ he replied to the flood of messages.

‘AC is broken’

Kaz hesitated, staring at the screen, then he typed ‘Yes’

‘:)’

Half an hour later, y/n arrived at his house, looking visibly relieved. “Oh saints, I can breathe again,” she exclaimed, collapsing onto the couch. “It’s a centralized problem. The whole building is hot as hell.”

Kaz went back to type on his computer at the kitchen table, glancing up briefly. “Did they say how much time before it works again?”

“No,” she sighed, sinking further into the cushions. “I’m on forced leave from work.”

“You sound almost sad,” he chuckled, his eyes flickering back to the screen.

“I am. You have no idea of the interesting booking I had,” she said, turning to look at him. “Do you want to know what he asked for?”

“I think I’ll live better without knowing,” he replied, smirking.

“Boring.” y/n pulled out her phone and started watching TikToks, her occasional laughter punctuating the silence.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, both absorbed in their screens. The rhythmic tapping of Kaz's keyboard mixed with the occasional burst of sound from y/n's videos.

After some time, Kaz broke the silence. “I have to work after dinner.”

“You have the weirdest work schedule,” she commented, glancing up. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“We can order something,” he suggested, not looking up from his screen.

“I’ll cook.” y/n got up and opened his fridge, surveying its contents. “You know that you could eat something other than meat?” she said, studying the shelves.

“I think I have ice cream too,” he shrugged.

“So healthy,” she commented dryly, closing the fridge. “Is there a supermarket nearby?”

“Yep.”

“I’m going,” she announced.

Kaz stared at her, a small grin playing on his lips. y/n sighed, already knowing what he wanted. “It’s in my bag, take it.”

Kaz closed his laptop and settled onto the couch, pulling her Nintendo Switch from the bag. “Why don’t you just buy one?” she asked, not truly annoyed.

“Because I would develop an addiction. Speaking of, take the keys. I won’t get up to open the door even if you arrive with the police,” he replied, already engrossed in the game.

y/n muttered something about him being a child before taking his keys and heading out.

When she returned, y/n put on some music and started cooking, dancing around the kitchen between cupboards and stoves. Kaz occasionally shouted at the game, clearly immersed. The atmosphere in the apartment was light and relaxed.

“Have you been using my vape?” y/n asked, suddenly annoyed.

“No.”

“It’s empty.”

“Maybe it has a leak,” he suggested, not raising his eyes from the game. y/n cupped his face and turned it towards her, leaning in to smell his breath.

“You smell like cherries, you dirty liar. After all your venting about how smoking is bad?” y/n accused, her eyes narrowing playfully.

Kaz laughed, trying to maintain his focus on the screen. “Shut up, you’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting you?” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Who was it that went on a twenty-minute rant about how terrible smoking is for your lungs, your heart, your—"

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he interrupted, his fingers flying over the buttons.

“And here you are, sneaking hits off my vape,” y/n continued, her tone teasing, “you even put it back in my bag to hide your tracks, just give up and buy one.”

“No, smoking is bad,” Kaz replied firmly, though his eyes never left the screen.

y/n let out an exasperated sigh. “Unbelievable.”

y/n was done cooking and sighed as she saw Kaz completely engrossed in her game, sitting on the couch with no intention of moving. "Kaz, come on don’t be a child."

Kaz, eyes glued to the screen, mumbled, "Just one more level, I promise."

Rolling her eyes, y/n decided it was time for drastic measures. With a mischievous glint, she leaned over and swiftly snatched the console from his hands. “Hey!” he protested, reaching out to grab it back.

“Nope, you’ve had enough,” she declared, holding the console high above her head.

Kaz jumped up from the couch, trying to reclaim his—well, hers—gaming device. “Give it back, y/n! I was about to beat my high score.”

She laughed, stepping back and keeping the console out of his reach. “No.”

He lunged forward, and they began a playful tussle. y/n darted around the coffee table, and Kaz followed, both of them laughing. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he teased, reaching out to grab her waist.

She squealed, spinning out of his grasp and holding the console behind her back. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

Kaz paused, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Come on, my leg is already killing me today.”

“Then give up,” she laughed.

He feigned to the left, then quickly moved to the right, catching y/n by surprise. She tried to dodge, but he was quicker, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground.

“Put me down!” she laughed, kicking her feet in the air.

“I don’t care if I break my leg again, you’re giving it back,” he replied, twirling her around.

She clung to the device, laughing uncontrollably. “Okay, okay, you win!” she conceded, handing it over.

Kaz gently set her down, keeping a firm grip on the console. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She playfully swatted his arm. “You’re a child.”

He chuckled, slipping the console into his back pocket. “And you’re annoying.”

They stood there for a moment, both catching their breath and smiling at each other. y/n shook her head, still laughing. “I’m going to cancel your game’s data.”

“There’s no need to get violent,” he said, offended, while they headed to the table. Kaz’s mouth watered at the sight and smell of the food.

“You cook really well for someone who hates eating,” Kaz said with his mouth half full.

“Rude, but thank you,” y/n replied with a smile, her fork tracing patterns on her plate.

Kaz stared at her, his gaze lingering a bit too long.

y/n noticed and rolled her eyes. “Kaz, don’t look at me like that. If you say something about my relationship with food, I’m so going to remind you that you have a girlfriend and that I’m a prostitute.”

“We’re just eating,” he mumbled, trying to justify himself and feeling really guilty. He was still mad at Inej for postponing her visit, and he knew that he and y/n were playing with the boundaries that should exist in their relationship.

He tried to focus on his plate, but his thoughts kept drifting. Maybe in that moment, it could look like an innocent dinner, a friend helping out a friend even, but later? When they would inevitably share a bed, without any payment beforehand? Or when he would book her for another session?

Kaz's mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions. He knew he should feel loyal to Inej, but he was still frustrated that she wasn’t there, and y/n had a way of making everything seem so easy.

y/n seemed to sense his turmoil. She put her fork down and reached out, touching his hand lightly.

“Are you feeling bad?”

“Yes,” Kaz admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” y/n replied with a small smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

He couldn't help but laugh, despite himself. “Fuck off.”

Kaz came back home later than he thought, plus, he took an unexpected punch in the eye that hurt like a bitch. He saw a dim light and soft talking coming from his room.

“Are you having fun on your trip?” he heard y/n's voice, but couldn't make out the answer. However, he heard her laugh.

Kaz peeked into his room, and y/n smiled at him, “It's my grandma,” she said, gesturing to the phone.

“Are you with a boy, sweetie?”

“I'm with a… friend,” she replied.

“Show him to me.”

“No,” she laughed.

“Is he ugly?”

“Grandma! No,” replied y/n, Kaz raised a brow, leaning on the doorframe, now very interested.

“Is he hot or is he cute?”

Kaz raised his brows even more, waiting for her answer.

“Don’t you have something to do? What happened to your face?” y/n narrowed her eyes to look better at him.

“Just a punch,” he shrugged before disappearing into the bathroom.

Kaz could still hear pieces of the conversation from her side. “No, Grandma, we're not sleeping together… My AC is broken… No, I didn't break it on purpose… Yes, he's cute… It's 4 am here!... Have a nice day, I love you.”

He took his spot in the bed as y/n put away her phone. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, my grandma is on one of those old-people-travels on the other side of the world and wanted to talk to me about her new crush. I was sleeping so well,” she said, leaning back into the pillows.

“Her new crush? How old is she?” he asked skeptically, taking the console she had left on his side.

“In her seventies. She’s a bit wild.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” he commented.

Kaz settled into the bed, gingerly touching his bruised eye. y/n was leaning against the headboard, her phone still warm from the call with her grandmother.

“Who punched you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she studied the bruise.

“An idiot,” Kaz replied, his voice laced with irritation.

“Hmm, he might have his reason. You're very punchable.” y/n’s lips curled into a teasing smile.

Kaz snorted, feeling a bit defensive. “It wasn’t my fault this time.” He rubbed his temples, the stress of the day catching up to him. The lingering ache from the unexpected punch added to his irritation.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him with her shoulder. “Sure, it wasn’t.”

“I’m sending you back to your house,” he said, his tone half-serious, as he stretched his legs out, trying to ease the tension that had settled in his muscles.

“I’m taking back my Switch,” she shot back, snatching the console from his side with a triumphant grin.

Kaz’s hand shot out in a playful attempt to reclaim it, but she was quicker, holding it out of his reach. “Go to sleep,” he said, exasperated but amused, his frustration easing into a faint smile as they bantered.

“Do you want a kiss to make the pain go away?” she said with a dangerous smile.

Kaz sighed, a mix of annoyance and fondness tugging at him. “Are you a healer now?”

“I can be a lot of things,” she teased, her tone light and playful.

“Stop flirting with me,” he replied, though the teasing glint in his eyes softened his words.

“Alright,” y/n turned on her side, settling into the playful rhythm of their exchanges.

Kaz battled with himself for a moment, then gave in to the pull he felt towards her. He pulled her closer, their bodies fitting comfortably together.

“Maybe it’s worth a try, it hurts really bad,” he muttered against her neck, his voice muffled.

“Kaz, are you whining?” she asked, laughter dancing in her tone as she turned to face him. Her eyes met his, a hint of mischief in their depths.

He huffed in mock indignation, a playful glint in his eyes. “I'm not whining,” he protested lightly, but the corners of his mouth betrayed a smirk.

The girl's gaze lingered on his waiting lips, a teasing smile playing on her own. With a deliberate slowness, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his temple. Kaz responded with an annoyed hum, his eyebrow quirking in response to her playful gesture.

“What? Were you expecting more?” she asked, raising a brow mischievously, her eyes flickering with amusement.

Kaz tilted his head, feigning contemplation. “I don’t know, maybe a little more sympathy?” he teased, his tone light despite the heaviness of their unspoken tension.

“Oh my poor baby, come here,” she playfully pulled him closer, her arms wrapping around him and messing with his hair.

He leaned into the contact, closing his eyes briefly and allowing himself a moment of comfort in her embrace.

“You’re so clingy, Kaz,” she commented after a while, her voice light with teasing. “Who knew you had it in you?”

“I’m not,” he retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“And you’re also delusional,” she added playfully, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his back.

“Shut up,” he replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself.

“Are you this annoying with your girlfriend too?” she teased gently, the question hanging in the air.

“She’s not paid to spend time with me,” Kaz replied, his tone tinged with seriousness.

“I’m not working tonight,” she reminded him gently, her fingers stilling on his back, their closeness emphasizing the unspoken boundaries between them.

Kaz nodded silently, the weight of their complicated relationship settling over them once more. He knew their moments together existed in a fragile balance, a delicate dance between companionship and something more undefined.

Kaz hated how peaceful he felt, how badly he craved the normalcy of their interactions, the lightness. Every time Inej would come back, it was like they had to learn to adjust to each other again. And when they were finally comfortable, she would leave again. While he fell asleep, Jesper's words kept echoing through his mind: “You're playing house with a hooker.” He couldn't be more right.

He couldn't ignore the transactional nature of their relationship, the blurred boundaries that came with it. Yet, there was something genuine in the way she looked at him, in the way she laughed at his jokes, in the way she cared.

He couldn't deny that he was playing a dangerous game, one that could hurt everyone involved. But in the quiet moments, when it was just the two of them, it felt almost normal. It felt like he had someone who understood him.

As he finally drifted off to sleep, Kaz couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He knew he was betraying Inej. The emotional connection he was forming with y/n was real, and it scared him.

When Kaz woke up the next morning, y/n wasn't there. In the kitchen, he found breakfast ready and a note: “Didn't want to wake you, I have to go. Thanks again for yesterday.”

He went on with his day, wondering if the AC at y/n's house had been fixed or not. He knew he wasn't supposed to think about it, that he wasn't supposed to hope that she would write to him again. But at some point, he gave in.

‘How's the AC?’ he texted.

‘Still broken,’ she replied.

Kaz was unsure of what to do. Rationally, he knew that he shouldn't have even texted her.

‘Don’t worry, I'm staying with a friend,’ she sent, like she was reading his mind. He was a bit annoyed, more than he let himself admit.

‘Guess I'll find others Switch and vape,’ he replied, a bit unjustifiably bitter.

‘Ask your girlfriend,’ she retorted. Kaz sighed; he deserved it.

As he put his phone down, Kaz couldn't shake off the unease. He knew his connection with y/n was treading dangerous waters, but he also couldn't deny how much he enjoyed her presence, the effortless way she fit into his life. He leaned back, trying to focus on work, but his mind kept drifting back to y/n. He knew it was wrong, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something akin to happiness.

***

A few days later, Kaz was waiting for y/n to pick him up since she finally got her driving license back, thanks to one of her clients who pulled a few strings, and she wanted to show him her bright new Mini Cooper. She sent him a picture of her outside his house. Kaz was gathering his things when a series of messages got his focus.

‘SHE'S HERE.’

‘INEJ IS HERE.’

‘SHE'S ENTERING THE BUILDING.’

Kaz froze, looking out of the window, he saw the Mini make an illegal turn and speed away.

He was still paralyzed when Inej opened his door. “Surprise!” she said brightly.

“Nej! What are you doing here?” Kaz hoped he sounded happy, while the adrenaline of being almost caught made his heart race. He moved to hug her, unsure of how to seem natural. Since when was he so bad at concealing his thoughts?

Inej started talking about how he was right, that she had been unfair with him, but his mind was focused on how close she had been to seeing him getting into y/n’s car. Kaz had no idea what kind of excuse he could've come up with.

“Sorry, were you going somewhere?” Inej noticed how he was actually ready to leave.

“Just a work thing. Let me make a phone call and cancel,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kaz went to his room to call y/n, who answered from the speaker of the car with a series of curses. “That was so fucking close, I'm so sorry, love.”

“It’s not your fault, great timing by the way,” he said, his words leaving a bitterness in his mouth. He couldn't believe that his girlfriend was in the other room, and he was calling another girl to talk about how close they got to getting caught together. What kind of person was he becoming? Kaz leaned against the wall of his room, the phone still warm in his hand, and stared at the ceiling. The situation felt surreal, like he was watching someone else's life unravel. How had he ended up here?

“Shut up, my legs are still wobbly. Enjoy your evening and don't take her to that place with the rooftop pool; my boyfriend is taking me there.”

He snorted. “The old man?”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to annoy?” she laughed. “Get lost, Kaz. See you soon,” she said before ending the call. He stood there a second more, then typed ‘Be careful’ and hit send.

Kaz took a deep breath, steadying himself before rejoining Inej. He plastered on a smile, hoping it looked genuine. The weight of his deceit pressed heavily on him, and as Inej continued talking about her recent travels, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was spiraling into something he couldn't control.

“Why do you have vegan ice cream?” Inej asked, puzzled, as she rummaged through Kaz’s freezer.

Kaz’s heart skipped a beat. “Fuck,” he thought, the image of y/n flashing through his mind. He had completely forgotten about that.

“It was on sale,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though the slight hitch in his voice betrayed him.

Inej raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “You’re always saying that being vegan is stupid. Who are you, and what did you do to my boyfriend?” She laughed, stepping closer and pulling him into a light kiss.

“If she only knew,” Kaz thought, guilt gnawing at him.

***

Kaz and Inej fell into a comfortable routine, with Inej practically moving in with him. She only went to her house every few days, which should have felt like a step forward in their relationship. Yet, Kaz couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Despite his progress with his touch aversion, which he had always seen as a significant hurdle, Inej seemed uncomfortable with the changes. Every time they were in his car, he had to force himself not to touch her. This was something he had never imagined possible, because for him, it had become a habit to drive with his hand on y/n's thigh. But Inej kept shoving him away.

Of course, Kaz knew that Inej had her own issues with physical contact, stemming from her traumatic past. He understood that her boundaries were there for a reason, and he respected them. However, he couldn’t help but feel that his issues were more pressing on their relationship, more in need of resolution. He had worked so hard to overcome his aversion, thinking it would bring them closer. They had started holding hands and sharing the same bed, but Inej wasn’t as clingy as he discovered himself to be.

Doubts began to cloud Kaz's mind. Maybe if he hadn’t sought a quicker way to solve his problems, he would have been more at peace now. But would he, really? The ability to remain calm when someone accidentally brushed against him wasn’t exactly a bad thing. It was progress. But he wondered if he had pushed too much with y/n. Had he relied on her too heavily to guide him through his issues? He had just wanted to be the right person for Inej, but now he started feeling like he had gotten it all wrong.

He recalled the late-night conversations with y/n, the way she had encouraged him to face his fears, to push his limits. It felt good, liberating even. But now, with Inej beside him, those same actions felt like betrayals. Inej’s discomfort was palpable, and it made Kaz question everything. Was he really doing this for her, or was it for himself? Had his need to fix himself overshadowed the essence of their relationship? When exactly did he stop doing it for Inej and started doing it for himself?

Kaz’s mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. He had always believed that conquering his touch aversion would be the key to a more intimate, more fulfilling relationship with Inej. But now, with her subtle rejections, he felt more distant from her than ever. He wanted to reach out, to hold her, to reassure her, but every touch seemed to push her further away.

As he lay in bed beside Inej, Kaz couldn’t help but think about how different things were with y/n. It was intoxicating, but it also made him feel guilty. He had sought out y/n to fix his problems, but now he realized that the solutions she offered might not be compatible with his life with Inej.

Kaz rolled over, staring at the ceiling. He needed to find a balance, a way to reconcile the progress he had made with his need to respect Inej’s boundaries. He had to stop doubting himself and start focusing on what truly mattered: being there for Inej in the way she needed, not the way he thought she needed. It was a daunting task, but Kaz knew it was the only way to salvage their relationship.

All of Kaz’s good ideas and resolve dissolved into a murky cloud of confusion as he found himself slipping out of bed and quietly getting into his car. The drive was eerily silent, matching the turmoil in his mind. He parked nearby and waited, feeling foolish with each passing minute. The neighborhood suddenly filled with the blare of loud music, and Kaz’s heart lurched as he saw y/n’s Mini Cooper turn the corner at an alarming speed, brakes squealing in protest. He watched, almost in disbelief, as she parked somewhat haphazardly, and she and her friends stumbled out of the car, leaning on each other for support. y/n lingered a moment longer than the others, retrieving something from under her seat.

Kaz approached quietly, his voice breaking the silence. “y/n,” he called out.

Startled, she turned, a frown creasing her features. “Are you drunk? You just got your license back,” Kaz blurted out, unable to stop himself.

y/n sighed, “I’m just a bit tipsy.”

“What happened to that light?” Kaz gestured towards the damaged light on her car.

“Why the fuck are you here, Kaz? Where’s your girlfriend?” Her annoyance was palpable.

Guilt flooded Kaz. “I… She’s sleeping. At my house.”

y/n raised her brows in surprise. “Kaz, why are you here?”

Avoiding her gaze, Kaz struggled to find an answer. He had no clear explanation for his impulsive decision. “She’s… She’s not you,” he finally admitted, the words heavy with admission.

y/n’s face hardened, her arms crossing defensively. “Yeah, are you here to remind me?”

“No, I—” Kaz faltered, unable to voice the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind for days.

“What?” y/n’s tone was sharp, demanding.

Taking a deep breath, Kaz finally gathered his courage. “I want you.”

y/n looked down, shaking her head slightly. “No, you don’t,” she replied coldly, her voice cutting through the night air. “y/n, let me explain—”

“Explain what?” She interrupted him, her tone laced with bitterness. “You don’t know me, Kaz. You want what we have when you pay for it, because I’m a whore and you’re my client.”

“That’s not true, y/n—”

“It is true,” she insisted, her voice hardening. “You don’t want me, trust me. Fuck, Kaz, I told you ages ago that if you were catching feelings for me we should’ve stopped.” She ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident.

Kaz felt anger building inside him, fueled by frustration and a sense of injustice. His words were sharp, a challenge to y/n, cutting through the air with an intensity that matched the turmoil in his heart.

“Oh yeah, because I’m the only one here who crossed boundaries, right? Look at me and tell me that you don’t feel anything.” Kaz’s voice held a mix of accusation and desperation. He locked eyes with y/n, searching for any sign of affirmation or denial, needing validation that what he felt wasn't one-sided.

y/n hesitated, her eyes clouding with a fleeting mixture of emotions—sadness, uncertainty, and something Kaz couldn't quite decipher. Her hesitation spoke volumes, a pause filled with unspoken truths and conflicted feelings.

Kaz held his ground, waiting for her response, hoping against hope that she would reveal what he yearned to hear. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of their complicated situation.

When y/n finally spoke, her voice carried a hint of vulnerability beneath its usual composure. "You don’t know me," she repeated, her words laced with a touch of sadness, less firm than before.

After y/n's words hung in the air, Kaz felt a knot tighten in his chest. Her raw honesty pierced through his defenses, forcing him to confront uncomfortable truths he had been avoiding.

“I want to know you,” Kaz insisted softly, his voice a whisper of vulnerability amidst the tension.

“No, you don’t! Let’s be serious, Kaz,” y/n's tone sharpened with frustration, her eyes holding a mix of defiance and pain. “We do this. We get together, we go on dates, how long before you ask me to leave my job?”

Her words hit Kaz like a blow to the gut. He knew she was right. The thought of y/n continuing her work while they pursued something deeper had always nagged at him, buried beneath his desire for closeness and intimacy. Yet, facing her accusation head-on made it all too real.

“How long before it makes you lose it and become like my ex-boyfriend, beating the shit out of me?” y/n’s voice quivered with the weight of her past, her fear palpable in the air between them.

Kaz's heart clenched at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, a reminder of the darkness y/n had escaped and the wounds she still carried. He couldn't bear the thought of causing her more pain, of becoming a source of anguish rather than solace.

He wanted to argue, to assure her that he was different, that he would never hurt her. But the truth lingered in the back of his mind, unspoken yet undeniable. Deep down, he knew y/n was right. He couldn't ignore the unease he felt about her profession, about the risks and compromises it entailed.

As y/n stood before him, her vulnerability laid bare, Kaz struggled to find the words to express the turmoil inside him. Admitting that he couldn’t accept her job felt like a betrayal of everything y/n represented—an independent spirit, unapologetically herself.

But he also couldn’t deny the growing ache in his chest, the longing to protect her from harm, even if it meant sacrificing the connection they shared. It was a choice he wasn’t ready to make, yet one that loomed over their fragile bond.

“I would never—” Kaz began, his voice tinged with hurt and frustration.

“He said that too,” y/n cut in sharply, her words a stark reminder of past betrayals and broken promises. Kaz winced, feeling the weight of her accusation like a punch to the gut. He wanted to protest, to defend himself against the comparison to her ex-boyfriend, but y/n’s pain was palpable, and he couldn’t deny its validity.

“y/n, let me just—” Kaz attempted to interject, but his words faltered as he struggled to find the right words to bridge the widening gap between them. His mind raced, grappling with the realization that his actions had inadvertently pushed y/n away, reinforcing her fears and insecurities.

In that charged moment, Kaz saw y/n not just as the confident and alluring woman he had grown close to, but also as someone who carried deep scars from a past he hadn’t fully understood. He had prided himself on being different, on offering her a haven from the shadows of her past, yet now he saw how fragile that sanctuary had become.

“y/n,” Kaz began again, his voice softer now, tinged with regret. “I never meant to—”

“Save it, Kaz,” y/n cut him off, her tone weary yet resolute. “You can’t change who you are any more than I can change who I am.”

She stepped closer, her hand brushing his hair gently. “Go back to your girlfriend, love. Or break up with her if you don’t want her anymore. It wouldn’t work between us.”

“Why do you think that?” Kaz whispered, his hands trembling slightly as they found their way to y/n’s waist, pulling her closer against him. His heart raced with a mixture of longing and fear, the weight of his words heavy on his tongue. He could feel y/n’s warmth against him, a tangible reminder of the connection they shared, yet he feared it might slip away forever.

“Tell me that you’re not happy with me,” Kaz continued softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “Tell me that it’s all a facade, all fake, and I’ll leave and never look for you again.”

His words hung in the air, a desperate plea wrapped in vulnerability. Kaz knew that admitting his feelings meant risking everything—his relationship with Inej, his self-image, and the fragile bond he had formed with y/n. Yet, in that moment, all he could think about was the uncertainty of their future and the ache of wanting something he might never have.

y/n’s eyes searched his face, her expression unreadable as she weighed his words. Kaz held his breath, waiting for her response, knowing that whatever came next would change everything.

“You can’t give me what I want,” she murmured sadly, a wistful smile on her lips. “I like my life, the freedom of it. I don’t want to change it. And you shouldn’t change yourself, not for Inej, but even more, not for me. You two are legends, Kaz. What you did for each other, all the fears you overcame for her, the—”

Kaz cut her off, unable to bear another moment of uncertainty. He pressed his lips firmly against hers, a desperate attempt to drown out the doubts and fears that threatened to consume him. y/n responded instantly, her hands sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer in a mix of longing and hesitation.

He guided her a few steps back, maneuvering until she was pressed between his body and her car. Their kiss deepened, a passionate exchange that spoke volumes without words. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist for Kaz. All that mattered was the taste of her lips, the feel of her body against his, and the undeniable pull between them.

For a heartbeat, everything felt right, like they belonged in each other's arms. But beneath the surface of their heated embrace, Kaz couldn't shake the weight of y/n's earlier words. He knew their connection was fraught with complications, tangled in emotions and circumstances that threatened to unravel any semblance of stability.

Yet, as he held her close, Kaz couldn't deny the intensity of what he felt. It was more than physical attraction; it was a yearning for understanding, for connection, for something deeper than he had ever allowed himself to explore before.

But as quickly as their passion ignited, y/n pulled back, leaving Kaz momentarily stunned and breathless. Her eyes searched his, a mix of sadness and resolve shining through.

“Go away,” she whispered, her voice tinged with sadness. “Go back to your girlfriend and forget about me.”

Kaz nodded slowly, as if emerging from a dream. “Don’t ever ask me again to be the better person,” she continued, her voice flat yet determined. “If I ever find you here again, I won’t stop you. I won’t hesitate. I will let you do whatever you want. And I won’t care. I’ll move on with my life. But you will regret it, trust me.”

Her words hung between them, stark and undeniable. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mix of guilt, regret, and a profound sense of loss. He had pushed too far, crossed boundaries he shouldn't have, and now he faced the consequences of his actions.

With a final nod, Kaz turned and walked back to his car, each step heavy with the weight of uncertainty and regret.

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