#she can do whatever she wants with her body none of my business

[midnightlizard]

Can I request an Amelia Sheperd x reader where they get stuck in the elevator together?

Stuck

Amelia Shepherd x gn!reader

Warnings: none

A/N: hi guys...I kinda disappeard didn't I...I'm sorry for all the requests but I literally couldn't put words on a page (also life happened so...) hope you like this

Word count: 1.8k

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"do I get to scrub in?"

"scrub in in a surgery that doesn't exist?"

"yea but it will, his liver is completely useless now so he will soon give in and accept a transplant" it always surprised you just how eager interns were to participate in any surgery they could get their hands on. Someone should probably teach them to be considerate of the patients' fear and distress. But to be completely fair no one taught you that when you were an intern yourself, so you weren't the right person for the job. "I mean, it's awful but I've never done a liver transplant"

As your eyes were busy looking at the tablet in your hands, you heard quick footsteps approaching you from behind; you wouldn't have given them any thought, had you not heard the familiar voice you were dreading to hear.

"where are you headed?" Amelia slows down once she reaches your level, leaning her shoulder slightly against your arm.

"hi, hello" you greeted, your voice a little too high, making it a little too obvious she caught you off guard "uh E.R., see if I can be of any help. You need something?"

She took a minute to answer, glancing at the intern on your right "killing time, I have surgery in a couple of hours. Can we talk?"

You stammered for a bit, trying to come up with a believable excuse "I uh, I can't, because Yasuda-" you pointed towards her, who seemed surprised by the attention "won't leave me alone until I let her assist in a liver transplant, you know how interns are" you topped it off with a forced smile.

It didn't take long for Amelia to detect the surprise on the intern's face, and a smile took over her lips. She got behind you, putting her hands on your shoulders "Yasuda? I'm sure Dr. Y/L/N would love to have you in their O.R. Now, can you leave us alone?"

"sure! yea, of course" she wasted no time in taking the neurosurgeon's word for it and happily got out of the way.

When you turned around, you were met with Amelia' s winning smile.

She shrugged her shoulders when your own slumped; as soon as she opened her mouth however, your finger in the air stopped her "nope, I still can't talk. I have to go to the E.R."

"I'll come with you, you might need a neuro consult" she started following you to the elevator, having trouble matching your fast pace.

You dared stopping only once your feet stepped into the elevator, and pressed the button that will take you all the way down to the first floor "why don't you just enjoy your break?"

Unfortunately, the doors weren't as fast as your body, giving the brunette enough time to sneak in, keeping the victory smile on her face.

Her back was leaning against the wall, opposed to your body standing anxiously in front of the doors, itching to get out of there as soon as possible.

To be fair, you knew this was coming, you knew what she wanted to talk about. You just wished she could forget about it.

"So.."

"It's April" you quickly interrupted her, announcing your obviously not beeping pager "she says a patient will probably need surgery. There goes my break"

"Then in the meantime we could-"

"I'll let you know if we need you, okay? You should rest, you have surgery in an hour right?"

"two hours, but that's not-" and if she was that stubborn to have that conversation in here, you were just as stubborn to avoid it.

"ugh can't this thing go any faster" you muttered under your breath. You tried pushing the button several times, hoping it'd go faster despite knowing better. And the ticking was much easier to bear than whatever the brunette had to say.

The motion however completely backfired, as the ticking sound was replaced by a much louder one, and you found yourself almost losing your balance.

It took you half a second to realize the elevator stopped.

"Did you stop the elevator?" Amelia came up behind you and looked over your shoulder.

You quickly retracted your hand, as your eyes moved between the panel and the surgeon, the first time you looked at her since you got into the elevator.

"No I didn't. It wasn't me"

She gave you one last look, before shrugging her shoulders "either way, we're stuck"

You closed your eyes shut and let out a low groan, surprising Amelia when your forehead collided with the wall.

Apparently, all the other elevators stopped altogether - unknowingly relieving some of your guilt - and Bailey assured you she'd try to get you out asap.

But the chief was probably walking around with a broken watch, since it has been almost half an hour and you were still there.

You'd soon gotten comfortable on the floor, leaning back against the wall with your legs stretched forward. Amelia sat next to you, legs crossed.

While this closeness would normally make you feel all kinds of ways, now it just made you feel one thing. Uncomfortable

"We might as well talk about it, you know. We don't know how long we're going to be stuck in here for" her characteristically low voice filled the empty air, as the white coats filled the empty space between your bodies.

You sighed, not giving in "there's nothing we need to talk about"

She furrowed her brows, showing an incredulous smile. "You kissed me"

"pfft barely"

"oh I remember a tongue"

You looked at her, mouth agape and cheeks red. There was definitely tongue. You shut your mouth.

After your lack of response you could see Amelia getting restless, bouncing her leg and looking all around the small space.

"I'm sorry" you uttered, catching Amelia's gaze in the corner of your eye "I shouldn't have kissed you" ignoring the small -hopeful- part of your brain that remembers her kissing you back "I wasn't thinking, I shouldn't have gotten in the way of your relationship with Owen" they're married fo god's sake, what the hell were you thinking?

Another silence fell between you two, before you heard muffled giggles coming from the brunette.

"Wait, are you laughing? There's nothing to laugh about" you looked at her with a scowl, but you couldn't deny the fluttering of your heart at the sound.

Amelia removed her hand from her mouth, revealing cheeks almost as red as your ears, and the cutest smile on her lips. "I'm not with Owen anymore" The embarrassment left space for you confusion, prompting the neurosurgeon to continue "we're not quite divorced yet because the procedure takes so so long-" she clarified with a sigh "but we broke up months ago. Did you seriously not know?"

You were once again at a loss for words "uh well, I guess I haven't really been paying much attention" since you started avoiding Owen too, it made sense you didn't know.

"yea because you were too busy running away from me" she remarked, with only the tiniest bit of anger "but why?" she whispered, examining your side profile "why kiss me and run away?"

"because I wanted to, kiss you" you confessed, it took a lot of willpower, but it felt good to finally let it out "you were looking at me with those big eyes and you were smiling and you looked so pretty, so I went for it. And god it felt so right. But by the time I realized what I had just done and took a step back- you weren't smiling anymore. So I ran away" your voice had gotten quieter, but before Amelia could respond, you continued "in my head you were with Owen and that meant instant rejection. But now that I know you're not-"

"It doesn't mean instant rejection" she finished your train of thoughts. She licked her lips "do it again"

You turned your head to find Amelia sitting on her knees in front of you, closer than before "what?"

"kiss me again" she stated, as if it didn't affect her at all "let's see if you're met with rejection"

It was impossible to misinterpret that look, as much as you wanted to. It was the same look she gave you after the first kiss, full of vulnerability and desire. Although you were too engrossed in your own mind to see anything but a mistake.

Before you could overthink it even more, you felt Amelia's warm breath on your lips, as she was just mere inches away from you. Waiting for your next move.

You slightly lifted yourself off the ground and met her halfway.

Just like the first time your lips danced in sync with each other, Amelia's hands through your hair acting as a warm welcome. It wasn't as short as the first time though, this time none of you dared to step back, air be damned.

Your hands moved from off the ground to grip her waist under the white coat, causing a surprised whine to erupt from her mouth . She put her hands on your shoulder to steady herself so she could easily climb onto your lap.

Just as you were about to ask yourself if it was justifiable to have sex in an elevator after being trapped for over an hour, there was a ding in the small space and suddenly Amelia got off you and you were blinded by the new light coming in.

Several people were now looking at you, including Bailey and Karev.

"Thank you for your work boys" she thanked the technicians, before looking at you up and down and changing her whole demeanor "now my doctors can finally go back to work" you smiled at her, trying to make up an excuse of what she saw but she shut you up instantly "get up you two, before I lock you in there again."

You and Amelia scrambled to your feet and quickly fixed yourselves with a low chant of 'sure thing' 'of course' and 'sorry'. Bailey gave you another pointed look, before going away with the two men. Amelia ran away in the opposite direction, not before smiling at you, light blush still on her cheeks.

You turned around, only to meet Karev's smug face. Honestly, why was he even here?

"what?"

His laugh clashed with your deadpan expression "nothing. I mean, almost having sex in an elevator? When they could open the door at any second? That's some risky fantasy" there was some evident amusement in his statement, in what seemed like a compliment in his own twisted way, but before you could shut him down your phone buzzed. And the heat returned to your face.

from 'Amelia':

-my shift ends in four hours

-I'll see you in the locker room, to talk

-don't run away this time <3

You put your phone in your coat pocket before Alex could see it and tease you even more "yea whatever, at least I score" you could feel him stiffen slightly beside you "bye Karev" you showed a polite smile, before disappearing from his vision.

to 'Amelia':

-I'll be there

-promise

Amelia Shepherd Masterlist - Grey's anatomy Masterlist

General Masterlist

[bananonbinary]

keep seeing a popular trans woman get "accused" of taking accutane and it just. transmysogynists are so sad imagine thinking "you took a prescription drug for its intended use" is an insult. like. what.

please i promise you will be so much happier if you stop measuring femininity by completely mundane things that bodies sometimes do. its not "feminine" to not have acne jfc.

[chaoticwriting]

The First Son

All the batkids have one common secret they are keeping from Bruce. That is the fact that there is a new vigilante in town. At first they were confused when they heard rumors that the bats had a new member since Bruce hasn't introduced anyone to this guy.

It is only after a little prodding that they realize that the guy they are talking about is just a new vigilante. A good one too. No one has seen him and the only reason they know it's a he is because of his voice. The goons often call him The Phantom.

At first, they were very wary of this new guy. Last thing they need is a new guy who decides to do whatever the hell they want in the city. But no. Phantom doesn't interfere with anyone's works nor does he create chaos whenever he works. The guy operation is smooth and if not for the unconscious bodies sprawled on the ground, no one would even realize he is there.

The first contact they ever had with Phantom is when Phantom gives them a tip of an Arkham breakout in the planning. No one knows how he knows but he just is. His information gathering is better than any of them including Tim and Barbara. They also successfully established a way of contact between them. Whenever any of them need help, they will leave a sticky note on the bat signal and they will receive whatever intel they want the next day. They try to see him by staying right beside the signal and even setting up cameras but none of them works with either the sticky note straight up disappearing or the cameras becoming static with the sticky note getting replaced with the Intel when the static is gone.

And so they go like this for a few more months when suddenly a tip comes up from an unlikely source.

Talia Al-Ghul has informed them that because of desperation Ra's is planning on kidnapping Tim and Damian to use them in a battle against Talia. She has been working to take over the League of Assassin after she gained news of her own father having dark plans against his own son. After the recent fatal blow to her father's faction, in a desperate attempt to defeat her, decides to break his own words and plans to invade Gotham to take Damian as hostage and Tim to become his apprentice.

The batfamily goes on high alert especially since Talia herself is there with her assassins trying to help them. But unfortunately, they underestimate how determine Ra's is. Talia nor the batfamily don't expect that Ra's would be crazy enough to bring his whole faction to invade Gotham.

Tim and Damian are not having a good time. Let it be known that normally, they can easily take down anyone they want to if they work together. Unfortunately, their opponent today is Ra's Al-Ghul himself. If Batman, Cass or even Dick is here, they would easily be able to hold their own against him. But Tim's expertise is detective work while Damian is still young and are at a disadvantage in terms of physical strength and experience.

Everyone is fighting to get backup to Tim but with the Supes out of this world and most other heroes busy with their own works, it is quite hard to deal with the assassins. That is until all the assassins are frozen on the ground. They don't know how or why but the assassins are now fully covered in ice with only their heads out.

A figure forms slowly in front of Ra's as his blade inches slowly towards Tim. A loud metal clanging sounded destroying the silence that has befallen the whole battlefield. In front of them is a man with black hair, blue eyes and very very tall. On his hand is a Khopesh that is directly parrying Ra's katana.

"Hello father."

The voice sends a chill into everyone who hears it. But for the Batkids, they know that voice. That is the same voice that is often heard whenever they try to communicate with Phantom. That means, the guy in front of them is Phantom.

"No no no. Impossible. I killed you by my own hand. There is no way you are here. An imposter. That's what you are."

Ra's says as everyone can feel the tremble and fear in his voice. And for the record the bats and Talia have heard Ra's voice being in fear before but this is different. This is the fear that you showed when you are in front of your natural predators. Your death.

"Indeed. It is a mistake for me to believe that you would love like I used to love you, father. And I loathe myself thinking about it. For the longest time revenge has been on my mind. But some people have helped me in letting go of the past. People who truly see me and treat me like family."

"How? How are you still alive? The Lazarus Pit swallows your body as a sacrifice."

"The Pit does no such thing. When you put me in there, you merely set me free. The Pit claims me as one of her own. And she takes pity on my life and decides to give me a better one. And for that I will be eternally grateful to her."

In a fit of madness, Ra's swings his sword towards Phantom. He doesn't want to hear any of it anymore. He needs to kill Phantom now. Before he-

A kick sends him flying across the rooftop towards the other side. Ra's roll on the ground growling in pain. That kick specifically aims to give me the most pain without damaging his body in the slightest. A feat that can easily be done by a very skilled martial artist.

Phantom picks up Tim and Damian that is still on the ground. With Damian fully unconscious and Tim barely conscious, Phantom sends them to the ground using what the other thought to be some form of telekinesis. They slowly pick Tim and Damian and after making sure Tim and Damian aren't in imminent danger, they try to make contact with Phantom, when a dome of ice erected from the ground surrounding both Phantom and Ra's.

Phantom holds his sword in by his side and slowly walks towards Ra's.

"My name is Danyal Al-Ghul. The first son of Ra's Al-Ghul. Today, I am here to formally challenge Ra's Al-Ghul to a death match on account of the continuation of the unsolved battle 500 years ago. All the members of the league are to be witnesses of this battle."

That sentence sends dread to everyone present. Talia knows of this tradition. A tradition that is used by her father to take down any opposition to his rule. That's why she has never confronted his father head on. She is not confident that she can win against him.

Ra's knows that he can't hide any longer. Last time he wins is barely because of an ambush and Danyal was poisoned. He would have never won otherwise.

Usually, Ra's prided himself in being a warrior. Who will dare to look death in the eyes to challenge it to battle. But people that are close to him knows that he is a coward. A coward that is so scared of death, who will do anything to run against it. But now, he can no longer run. Death has finally made his way towards his doorstep. Death in the form of his first son. The very son who he killed because of a prophecy he heard from a seer.

'You shall die a worthless death. At the hand of your greatest creation. He will be your end. The one who will put out your flames of life. Your first son.'

He has been enraged when the seer says that. He killed the old woman and even prepared a plan to kill his own son. The son that trusted him. He first sends him on a big mission where he knew Danyal would never fail. Then he makes a grand celebration when he returns. That's when he poisoned him, reducing his strength to barely a tenth of his full strength.

Even then, Danyal had put up a tough fight. Claiming Ra's hand while fighting him. He thought that he succeeded when life left his son's body. But he is greedy. He tries to awaken him again to make him into his perfect warrior. But the Lazarus Pit swallows him. Leaving no trace behind.

For the longest time, Ra's hid the existence of this son. He is his greatest creation. He is also his greatest shame.

Danyal walks slowly towards Ra's. The others are trying to crack open his ice dome but unless he wills it, even the sun can't melt his ice. Ra's is kneeling right there. Seemingly given up any chance of retaliation. Both of them knew that Danyal is the superior one between the two. Either intellect or strength. Danyal has and will always be better.

Putting the sword on his neck, Danyal asks him. "Any last words father?"

Ra's looks at him with an empty eyes that suddenly gains light as he thrust his katana straight into Danyal's chest. Ra's is about to laugh in victory as he thinks he has outsmarted his son again but then he realizes that his son is still standing there with his sword on his neck.

"Goodbye father." And with that, Ra's head flies into the sky and falls on the floor. Danyal can hear the screaming and shouting from the outside but he doesn't care. He has done it. His long forgotten revenge. His blood feud.

He looks at his father's corpse and burns it to ashes. He has made sure that the old man's soul has completely dispersed after the soul of people he kills unjustly has taken him apart one by one. What a gruesome death. Appropriate for such a vile human.

Danyal looks at people he can consider friends. He could see worry and Nightwing's and Spoiler's eyes, respect in Red Hood mannerism and confusion in Black Bat's body language. He has made sure no one sees Ra's body when he kills him since he knows some of them can read body language too well.

Looking at Talia, his sister, Danyal gives a nod, disperse the ice and disappears. Talia later takes control of all the assassins and they return back to their base after a quick talk with Batman. They heard the conversation from inside the dome. So they knew a little about what was happening.

After that night, Phantom completely disappears without any trace whatsoever.

[vrystalius]

💕 The Love Languages of the Hashira pt.2

How the hashira express their love for you pt.2!

Here is pt.1 with Sanemi, Gyomei, Kyojuro and Tengen <3

Here’s my masterlist for the hashira.

Author’s Note: The hashira I wrote about in here are not my absolute favs, so maybe they are a bit oc…

Not proofread!

Pairing: Giyu, Obanai, Shinobu, Mitsuri x gn!reader

💙 Giyu Tomioka 💙

Physical affection (intensity: 8/10)

Giyu isn’t really the guy for pda. He likes it when you do it to him, planting gentle kisses on his cheek to fluster him, but Giyu comes out of his shell inside doors. He wants to hold you close during whatever you are doing. He would stand behind you while you cook, holding you by your waist and burying his face into your neck, just taking in your scent, or while you write letters to your friends, he would sit beside you and lean his head onto your shoulder. Giyu is silently clingy and he would never admit it.

Quality time (intensity: 9/10)

For Giyu personally, the best time spend is time spend with you. He likes it when you two hang out. It doesn’t really matter what you two are doing, he just likes spending time with you, doing things you like. His favourite thing to do with you though is to solve Tsume Shogi. You’d sit there for hours at a time, playing against each other while snacking on a small side dish. Giyu would always win in the end, and as a reward he always wants a kiss or cuddles.

Another thing he likes to do with you is to soak in a hotspring alongside you. He would get flustered at first, eying your beautiful body from the side, but after a while he’d calm down. Giyu would blow bubbles into the water while you’d talk, or rub essential oils (that Mitsuri gave you to try out) onto your back.

“Hey. How about we do a round Shogi tonight? I have a new strategy I want to try out.”

❤️Obanai Iguro❤️

Gift giving (intensity: 8/10)

Obanai would buy things that remind you of him while he’s out on longer missions, then give them to you when he returns. He likes to see you flustered and would leave a comment about it, but deep down he enjoys making you happy and buying you things like trinkets and clothing items and then seeing you wear or have them on you.

He also likes it when you get things for him. No matter how silly it is, Obanai will try to wear them or have them on himself to show off what a generous and kind S/O he has. Sanemi would tease the shit out of him for being so smitten for you to go as far as having Kaburamaru wear a little snake-sized scarf that matches Obanai’s yukata, wich you had bought him.

Words of affirmation (intensity: 6/10)

Obanai would tease you, yes, but he would give you even compliments and affectionate words in return, especially behind closed doors. He would stare at you, admire you with a lovesick-stare, but immediately stiffen up and throw a stingy comment at you when you catch him staring. But he apologises quickly and would mumble a quiet compliment your way.

“Hey, Obanai, what’s that thing you have around your wrist?”

“It’s a bracelet.”

“Looks stupid, why’d you get it?”

“None or your business. And it’s pretty, dumbass.”

🩷 Mitsuri Kanroji 🩷

Words of affirmation (intensity: 8/10)

Mitsuri would be the happiest when she can make you happy, and her way to do that is to compliment you as much as she can. She’ll compliment your style (even if you’re wearing the uniform), your beautiful face, your nice hair and your warm hands. Mitsuri also loves it when you compliment her, it makes her feel all flustered and red. She loves it when you tell her that she’s perfect the way she is, and remind her of her skill, strength and beautiful personality. It makes her all giddy and boost her confidence.

Physical touch (intensity: 10/10)

Mitsuri is the queen of physical affection, and she loves to give it out and get it back. She will hug you out of nowhere, give you a big kiss in the middle of street, or cuddle you the whole night and keep you close to herself. Mitsuri adores it when you do it back to her as well.

Quality time (intensity: 7/10)

Now, eating food is one of her and your favourite activities, but preparing the food together is even more fun. Pancakes, dango, mochi, ramen etc etc, somehow you both end up burning or undercooking something, even if the fish doesn’t even need cooking or anything of the sorts. The dish turns out fine, and you two enjoy it to the fullest. For Mitsuri, you two have to make around three or four batches extra while you’re content with one or two servings. She’s a little self-conscious about the amount she’s eating, but hearing your reassurance makes her all happy and giddy again.

“Are you sure it’s okay if I take the rest of your pancakes?? I mean, if you’re okay with it! Thank you!!”

💜Shinobu Kocho 💜

Acts of service (intensity: 8/10)

Shinobu is very sleep deprived and tired after caring for injured and sick members of the corps all day, so having you take care of her after a long day feels like heaven to her. She loves it when you help her change out of her uniform, having her dress in more comfortable clothes. She could melt when you hold her close and give her a little massage, and she could cry a little when you make her food and make sure she herself is taken care of. After a long day for caring others, it’s nice to be taken care of in return.

Words of affirmation (intensity: 6/10)

Shinobu likes to boost your confidence and make you flustered, kind of makes her day. She also adores it when you compliment her, it makes her feel warm inside and give her little bursts of energy to keep going. Reassurance gives her security, and she likes the feeling of knowing that at the end of the day, she’ll come back to you and back into your arms.

“Aren’t you a sweetie? Thank you for bringing me lunch. Would you like to stay with me and eat?”

💠

Thanks for reading <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

Note: Over 100 notes!! Tysm guys!! I don’t really know the personalities of the hashira here so I’m surprised you guys like it so much. I’m not complaining though <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Kitty huffs, a rare moment of agitation, and blows it out sharply. She thrusts her hands forward and hurls the string of pearls onto the couch. She curls her fingers in frustration and stares at them, like a puzzle. 

“My goddamn hands won’t stop shaking,” she utters. 

You cross the room to her, wordlessly, and take the necklace. You move behind her to clasp it in place over her collar. She wears a straight cut black dress with no ornament. The pearls are a delicate touch to the otherwise plain outfit. 

“What do you think he wants?” Adrienne finally asks the question none of you dared. 

You look at her helplessly. They can never know you did this. They can’t ever know that the reason they are so scared in that moment is your fault. They might have longed to pull the trigger themselves but actually doing it is different. It’s... irredeemable. 

“He said we’re under his protection,” you say flatly. 

“Oh, come on, you’re the most skeptical of all of us,” Kitty accuses, “you believe that. Daddy was just another soldier.” 

“Maybe but what else are we going to do but obey?” You counter. 

Kitty winces and Adrienne’s eyes bat. Your older sister shakes her head, “you’re not the one to give up.” 

“I am.” You insist. “If it keeps you two safe then I will do whatever needs to be done.” 

They’re silent for a moment as they look from you to each other. They nod. “Us too,” Kitty says. “We have to take care of each other.” 

“Like always,” Adrienne agrees. 

Silence floods the room again. There’s a car waiting outside a few minutes later. You march out in another sombre parade. It’s a different kind of funeral that day. You’re not mourning the past, you’re mourning the future and what could have been and will never be. 

You sit together in the back seat. You hold hands. You never went to many of these ‘business’ gatherings. Outside of a wedding, you weren’t invited. Your father was only invited by the few people who knew him in the outfit. He was only ever the big dog when he barked at his three daughters. 

The car stops, you get out. You squeeze your sisters’ hands before you detach. The man who drove leads you to the immaculate white facade of the grand hall. You’re somewhat confused by the venue but this is not a day for questions. You had your curiosity beat out of you long ago. 

Inside, you’re led to a set of open doors. You enter and another man stands to beckon you further inside. There are bodies all around, all in dark suits, muttering under their breath, coughing, tapping fingers. 

Your eyes skim around cautiously. Barnes sits at the head table. He’s calm and unbothered by the new arrival. He’s indifferent to his men as the one next to him whispers in his ear. Rogers stands behind the boss’ chair as he speaks to him, gripping the elaborate orb that tops the post of the straight-backed seat. 

Barnes’ gaze meets yours only as you and your sisters are put at a table of your own. It feels like some hearing. A court case. Are they hearing the crimes of your father? But he said... 

No questions. There’s nothing the answers can change for you. Adrienne fidgets, wringing her hands restlessly, and Kitty sit so straight it looks like it hurts. None of you look past the table. Your daddy would smack your mouth for your wandering eyes. 

“Alright, now that we’re all here, let’s gut through the bullshit,” Barnes’ voice brings the voice to deathly lull. The men shift their bodies and their focus. The doors close subtly behind the boss’ timbre. “Now, don’t think I brought you here because of a single soldier. You know better. All of you.” 

His voice is stringent but restrained. Still, it’s enough to instill fear. You gulp and dare to look up at him. He stands and puts his hands on the table. 

“First, a crooked accountant. Bald clown messing around. Then I got men going out, coming back short. Then dead.” He snarls. “I don’t care about the small men. With due respect,” he pauses and glances in your direction, “but I know they don’t think for themselves, too. I know it was one of you. This isn’t just chance. 

“One of you popped Warren ‘cause he found you out,” Barnes continues.  

You sense movement like a soft breeze. Rogers edges along the wall, unnoticed. You stare in slow motion as he moves quickly towards another table. 

“And I found you out too,” Barnes hits the table with his fist. “I went through the numbers and I found the fucking thief.” 

You frown. It’s... lies. He told you that day. At the funeral. Your daddy was the thief. Now he’s telling them something different. He used you. It makes a good story. A mysteriously dead soldier, missing money... makes it easy to trim the fat. 

“Milo,” Barnes points and a chair scrapes and teeters.  

Rogers grabs the capo from behind, closing his hands around his neck. He drags him easily, like a rag doll. They aren’t so different in size and yet the blond moves the other easily as he bulls around the table and brings the man to the center of the room. 

“You been pocketing my money.” Barnes stands straight and gestures casually. 

Rogers tosses the other man, Milo, to the floor and kicks him so he sprawls. His assault is methodical. He doesn’t let up. He stomps and batters the man into the polished wood. The noise of cracking bones and breaking cartilage itch in your ears. The accused hacks and chokes on spit and blood. 

Your sisters smother gasps and startled sobs. You’re only mortified by your own indifference. Are you so callous to feel nothing for a man chosen to pay for father’s death? For your actions? You just can’t. You know every man in this room is just like your father was. Cruel. Mean. They deserve it just as much as he did. 

“Enough,” Barnes orders and Rogers steps back, combing his long hair away from his face as he puffs. The man on the floor is a puddle of wheezes. 

“Your houses, your cars, your accounts, all of it, will be turned over to Warren’s daughters. For his good service to me. He died finding you out. He died for the good of the outfit. He smoked out the mole,” Barnes says. “And you orphaned his daughters, just like you meant to do to every man in this room.” 

Silence. Stillness. No one moves. 

“You are all dismissed. On your way out, you make sure to pay your disrespects to that scum,” Barnes growls. “And look at him, hard and long, because the next fucker I catch with his hands in my pockets will be right there with him.” 

There’s a moment before anyone moves. The first man to rise is greying around his temples. He comes out from behind the table and nears the shaking form on the floor. He spits on Milo then sends his pointed leather shoe into the man’s stomach. He marches out without looking back. 

The next man follows suit. Spit, kick, go. One after another the men disburse in the same manner. The noises, ptuah, crack, tap, tap, tap, form a sickly rhythm. You can only sit and watch. 

You reach to your sisters and take their hands again. You glance between them. They look on in horror. They aren’t made for this. Your eyes flit back to the head table and find the king looking over his court. No, he’s looking at you. 

Barnes dips his chin and his eyes gleam. He is the master. No one dares to challenge the narrative he’s written. Whatever he says is all the truth they need to worry about. Same goes for you. 

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Our Little Secret

kai parker x reader

summary: you should've known wearing a short little skirt would rile him up. but then again... maybe you did it on purpose. (80s!kai) (step-brother!kai)

tags: teasing, possessiveness, praise kink, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex, blowjobs, vaginal sex

word count: 4.2k

“You look cute,” a male voice comes up behind you, “where are you going?”

You turn abruptly to see Kai, watching you from the other side of the kitchen. His gaze travels up and down your body, but he’s clearly staring at your ass. It almost makes you drop the soapy dish you’re holding. 

“Um, thank you.”

“Where are you going?” He repeats, eyes darkening.

“Nowhere.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m serious! I’m not going anywhere, I just felt like looking cute. Trust me, Kai. Do you ever see me leave this house?”

His jaw relaxes, knowing you’re telling the truth. “So you just felt like romping around in a short little skirt? Dad won’t be happy if he sees you in it.”

“Well Dad’s not here right now,” you point out. This is also true. Joshua was out for the weekend on coven duties. He won’t be back until late Monday. 

“Mom won’t like it, either.”

“She’s never minded me wearing what I want. As long as it’s appropriate to wear around the kids.”

“She scolded Jo just last week for wearing jeans that were too tight.”

“Well this is a skirt.”

“I can see the bottom of your ass, Y/N.”

“Why are you looking at my ass, Kai?”

“Because you have it on display for me to see.”

“I do not! I’m just doing dishes and minding my own business!”

“You would get so busted for that skirt if Mom saw. Joey would be staring, too. You know he has a crush on you.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Then stop talking about my skirt and just… go away.”

“I came to get a snack.”

“Then get it and go.”

Kai crosses the kitchen towards the fridge, and you finally think he’s dropped it. With his back turned, you bend down to put the plate in the dishwasher, then continue soaping up another. Little do you know that Kai’s watching you through the metal reflection of the fridge door. He licks his lips when your ass is on full display. 

“Y’know this is my house,” he suddenly challenges. 

You whip around to face him, annoyed. “So?!”

“You can’t boss me around in my own house.”

“Do you pay the bills? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“I was here first. And I’m older than you.”

“Do you want an award?”

He eyes your figure again. “Are you offering?”

“Ugh! Stop it!” 

“Oh don’t act like you don’t like the attention. Why else would you wear that pretty little piece in an empty house?”

“I didn’t feel like putting on pants.”

He chuckles. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

You groan and turn back around, desperate to avoid his gaze any longer. 

Kai’s not completely wrong, but you’re not exactly lying, either. Yes, it’s true that you didn’t want to put on pants. Yes… it’s also true that you wanted to gain attention from your step-brother. There, you finally said it. You do like his attention. It’s his fault, though. He’s always flirting with you, regardless if the rest of the family is home or not. 

His eyes are always on you, at your back or front, whichever he can get. Countless times you’ve turned suddenly and caught him staring. A handful of those times, his own mother has tried to get his attention but struggled to pull it away from your breasts. His mother, of course, is none the wiser and assumes he’s daydreaming, but you know he’s not. He’ll smirk at you after, if he’s caught, and won’t let her believe anything scandalous was happening instead. 

Kai’s also gotten physical with you more times than you can remember. He’ll slide past you in a crowded kitchen, hands in the air as he’s banned from touching anyone, but his groin will brush your ass as he slinks across the room. Twice, you’ve felt the outline of his cock in his jeans when he did it. Both times, your face got so hot you needed to step away from the situation. 

He also has a habit of bumping into you. If you’re doing dishes or putting something away, he’ll suddenly appear, suddenly needing to do the same thing. Your shoulders or hips meet from his unexpected presence, and then he apologizes with a voice that does things to you. Either his morning voice, slightly rough, or his soft, midday voice, or the one heard at night, when he’s all talked out and dehydrated. Sometimes he’s close enough you can smell coffee on his breath, or mint, or even gin. Sometimes he lets his hand wander to the small of your back, or further down by your waist. When his family enters the room, he rips himself away from you. The bubbling warmth between you quickly goes cold and leaves you hungry. 

“Y/N… Y/N… hello?!” 

You blink twice, realizing Kai’s right next to you. A tupperware is in one hand, while the other waves in front of your face. “What?!”

“Jeez! Just asking if you wanted some of this.”

“What is it?”

“Leftover cake from Sarah’s birthday party. It’s chocolate,” he says the last part in a sing-songy voice.

“I know, I was there.”

“Do you want any?”

“No.”

“Awh, come on, Y/N… you know you do.”

“Fine. I’ll have a bite if you’re heating it up.”

His face breaks out into a grin and he mutters a celebratory, “yes!” to himself, then spins around to the microwave. 

“Put it all on a plate and gimme the dish. What’s one more dish to wash?”

“Okay. And thanks for doing that.”

“Mhm.” 

He leaves you alone while it warms. You turn slightly, wondering why he’s quiet, but see him on the other counter pouring two glasses of milk. You’re quick to face the sink again, not wanting him to see you looking at him. 

“So why cake?” You question as the two-minute timer beeps. “Don’t you usually eat pretty healthy?”

Kai shrugs. “Usually. But one dessert was denied, so I was craving something to fill its place.”

“What the fuck was- oh.”

“I mean, I’ll have two if you change your mind.”

You look down, avoiding his stupid smirk. 

“Kidding. Have a bite.”

Two minutes is the max time you get to eat in silence. After that, Kai swallows a big bite then looks back at you.

“In all seriousness, you do look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” you say, unsure how to take the compliment.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“What?”

“I’m just asking in case I have to kick someone’s ass! For like, brotherly reasons.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I do not have a boyfriend.”

“Good.” He’s then quick to follow with, “I mean, like, cause Dad would kick his ass, too. That, or turn him straight to dust. Poof! Did you know that Josette’s boyfriend had to go through three weeks of questioning just to take her on one date?”

“Yes, Kai, I was there. I’ve been living here for three years.”

“Right.”

“Did you see the time my brother got his ass beat for bugging me when I tried to eat?” You counter, challenging him.

“Joey?”

“No, dumbass, you.”

“Oh. Wait-” he puts his fork down as he realizes. “Sorry.”

You meant it as a joke, but his frown tells you he didn’t catch that. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go back upstairs. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Wait, Kai!” He doesn’t stop. “Kai!” You try again, reaching out to grab his arm. 

He freezes, not used to such direct contact. 

“I was joking, Kai,” you look in his eyes to say. “I promise. I really do like your company.”

“No you don’t, I bother you as much as I bother Jo.”

Your grip tightens. “No, you don’t. Kai, I’m serious. And I’m sorry. It went too far.”

Finally, he turns to you. “Honest?”

“Honest.”

“Pinky swear?”

You snort, then realize he’s serious. “Pinky swear.”

He grins at this, then slowly returns to the side opposite you, where he had been only seconds ago.

“As a matter of fact,” you continue, “you don’t bug me at all.”

He chuckles and looks at the floor. “I’m sure I bug you a little.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“What about earlier? That wasn’t annoying?”

Now or never to confess. You pick the former. 

“Oh, no. I certainly do enjoy your attention. Even when it's on my ass.”

“Oh, do you now?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you bring your chocolatey fork up to your lips, licking the whole length, and sticking your tongue out to him. You keep eye contact with him, watching his cheeks flush bright red. 

“Y/N…”

“What? We’re all alone… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t partially wear this little skirt for you.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat.

“Awh, what happened to the bold Kai I know that will rub his morning wood against my back in the middle of a crowded kitchen? Is he shy?” You tease.

“Y/N, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into…”

“Oh, I think I do. Come on… I bet an afternoon hard is just as satisfying. Oh, but maybe we should wait a couple hours, for when I can literally taste the gin off your breath. Aw, nah, because then the window of opportunity will close. Jo will be home, and all those kids, and you’ll have to see your little brother blush at me without the pride of having owned me earlier in the day.”

“Y/N,” his voice is raspy. His hand ghosts over his pants, and when you follow the movement with your eyes, you see he’s rock hard. 

“Come on, Kai… You want to be a good stepbrother and beat up my nonexistent boyfriend? Well be a better one and fuck me right now.”

He only hesitates for a second more before rushing forward, pressing your back up against the sink, and kissing you roughly. He grips the countertop with one hand, your waist with the other. The plate of chocolate crumbs clatters into the sink, piercing your ears, but neither of you care. Your hands find his cheeks to get a grip. You hold them gently, but they’re burning in your hands. He’s a good kisser, despite having no experience. Before you know it, you’re both out of breath. 

“Kai,” you try to say his name, but it comes out in more of a moan. The two of you are separated, panting, and staring at the other. 

“You okay?”

“Perfect.”

He smiles, then starts to trail kisses down your neck. Your hands find his hair and pull at the roots. 

“Jump up,” he mutters. You do, and he catches your hips. He carries you to the other side of the counter, then sits you up on it. With gentle movements, he leans your back against the cabinet door. Had he sat you up by the sink, you would’ve had no support for your back. You give him a sloppy kiss as a thank you. 

Kai smiles at you, but then instead of going back to your neck, he crouches just a little on his knees. As soon as you realize what he’s doing, you let out an involuntary whine. Your hands bunch up your skirt and he smirks.

“Smart girl.” He wastes no time pulling down your thong, then stuffing it in his back pocket. The cold air only hits your core for a second before his fingers find your clit, rubbing gently. 

“Ohh, Kai,” you whine.

“That’s it, princess. Keep whining for me.”

You let out another, this time, between sealed lips. 

Kai puts a finger in you without warning. “Louder, baby.”

“Kai, I can’t.”

“Oh, yes you can. No one else is here.” He puts in another. 

You can feel the soft pads of his fingers on your walls. “More,” you whimper. 

“Good girl,” he praises.

You squeeze your eyes shut as wetness gushes from your body. You’ve always had a praise kink, and he’s about to find out. 

“You like that?”

You nod quickly.

“Well keep it up. Keep making those sweet little sounds for me.”

You nod again, eyes still closed. With your eyes shut, though, you have no warning when his nose is suddenly grazing your clit. As soon as it touches, though, you let out a loud moan, almost pornographic. 

“Good girl,” he says again, hot breath up against your core. Then, it’s his tongue making contact with your clit. He teases the nub with the tip, then slides it between your folds.

Your hands dig in his hair and moans fly out of your mouth. “Kai!”

He doesn’t answer this time. All his focus is on you. Two fingers still explore inside, while his tongue laps up your wetness. Obscene slurping sounds fill the room, mixed with your own cries. Kai can’t even catch all of it with his tongue - some drips to the title floor with a loud splat, and you can feel the curvature of his lips against your skin. 

The boy is an expert, despite probably being a virgin. He knows just how to flick his tongue; just how to curl his fingers. 

“Kai, I’m coming,” you cry out, gripping the countertops. Your hands are sweaty and you almost slip. In an instant, his hands catch you, even the one that had been inside your heat. “No, don’t stop what you’re doing,” you mutter, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Sorry, princess,” he replies, putting them back. He then finds the pace he had before, and works to bring you back to the edge. 

Moments later, your orgasm is the most powerful you’ve ever had. No other man, nor your own fingers have ever done justice to what he could do with his tongue. He sucks and finger-fucks you throughout your orgasm, paying no mind to the way you squeeze your legs around his head, nor the way you begin to ride his face as you come. Kai doesn’t let up until your legs are shaking, and your heavy moans become little whimpers. Only then, does he stand back up and smile at you. 

“You okay?”

“Fuck, Kai.”

“Too much?”

“No. Never.”

“Too much for round two?”

“What?” You mutter, out of breath.

“We can stop if you’re tired.”

You fight to catch your breath, and in that time, happen to glance down. Your eyes go wide as you notice he’s pulled out his cock. Stiff as a board, red, and oozing with pre-cum, it rests in his hand. 

“No, no stopping. Just… give me a minute.”

“We don’t have to, princess.”

“No, I want it. I want you.”

You then make an attempt to jump down from the countertop, but your arms are still shaky. He catches you in an instant, an eyebrow raised.

“Where are you going, little peach?”

A tired whimper escapes the back of your throat as you open your mouth to speak. Despite the grip he still has on both your arms, you manage to sink down to your knees. Halfway down, Kai realizes what’s happening and lets go. 

“Aw, does my little bunny want to suck her stepbrother’s cock?” Kai takes himself in his hands and levels with your face. “You’re a good girl, you know that?”

You blush, and fight the urge to turn your face away. 

“Eyes on me,” he says, seemingly knowing your thoughts. 

You obey him, eyes bouncing between his face and his length. Your heart speeds up at the prospect of taking it. Of feeling it heavy in your mouth; feeling it hit the back of your throat. 

“Can I?”

“Go ahead, princess.”

Your hands join his. Your eyes roll back in your head at how good it feels. When you look up to him, he nods, and you dart your tongue out to taste the pre-cum leaking from the tip. It’s thick, and salty, and if that’s just your first taste, you know you need to start working for more. You lick the head, swirling your tongue in circles. Your lips suck the first few inches. 

“No more teasing.” He tries to be stern, but it comes out in a moan. 

You then put a hand on his thigh for a better grip. The jeans underneath your skin are uncomfortable. 

“Off,” you mutter, hands flying to his belt. 

“Hm? Oh.”

But you’re faster than Kai. Before he can give you any help, you’re unbuckling the metal and peeling his pants down his legs. You’re sure to be careful at his cock, though, pulling it back through the zipper hole, then letting it free.

Kai steps out from the pool of his pants. “Better for you now?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, lips pressed on his length. The action sends vibrations all over and he can’t help but moan again.

Your hand on his thigh squeezes his skin enough that it’ll bruise under your fingernails. Kai only has a second to concentrate on this, though, because in the next second, you’re licking a stripe from his balls to his head. Your tongue is dense against a prominent vein, earning another sound from him. Kai’s hands dig into your hair. He fights the urge to buck his hips into your mouth. 

“Y/N,” he warns. If you don’t stop teasing now, he’ll do just that.

Luckily, you catch onto his need. Your lips curl around his head, tongue flat, and you begin to move up and down on his length. You start slow, but as he gets wetter, your lips glide better. The hand holding him no longer has a use, the first time you take him all the way. It slips further back to tug on his balls, while his tip hits the back of your throat repeatedly. 

Kai keeps his hands on you, buried in your hair, scratching your scalp. Profanities tumble from his lips; words that if his dad were to hear, he’d be beat for days. You smirk against his cock, knowing he can feel your lips curving. 

“You’re a naughty little thing, peach. You like that?”

You respond by not losing pace, not slowing down for a second. 

“Mhm,” he confirms, “what a good little slut you are. Taking her brother’s cock so well. Tell me, princess, is this something you think about at night? How many times have you touched yourself to the thought of this happening?”

Again, you don’t answer. 

“One? Two? Three? More?”

Your hand on his balls travels up to squeeze his ass. The skin is soft between your fingers, and you quickly put your other hand on his other cheek.

“I’ll take that as more than three times,” he chuckles. 

You pinch his cheek unexpectedly, making him jolt. His reaction makes you giggle. When you look up to see his reaction, there’s a smile on his face, too. 

“You look beautiful on your knees for me,” he praises. But then his hands find your face and he slowly eases you off his cock. “So, so beautiful. But I’m getting close and I need to be inside you.”

You nod, wanting the same. 

Kai then grabs you from under your armpits, helping you to your feet. When you’re stable, he hoists you back onto the countertop. Not a moment later, he’s kissing your lips, sore, and red from sucking. Then, at the same time that he hitches your skirt back up your thighs, he presses kisses all around your face. You giggle, his lips tingling your skin, and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Are you ready?” You shake your head ‘yes’. “Need a minute?” You shake it ‘no’. “Okay. Tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Okay.”

Kai holds your back steady. His cock is in his other, glistening with your spit; teased, and in need of release. He pushes into you slowly, letting you adjust. He keeps an eye on your face, watching for signs; hoping for pleasure, prepared for pain. Your eyes flutter as he passes your folds. Your mouth hangs open, spit dribbles from your bottom lip. The pair of you moan at once, both relishing in the feeling of his cock inside you. He smiles at the simultaneous sound of pleasure.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Words, please, princess.”

“Yes, Kai,” you manage. 

“There you go. Good girl.”

“Go faster.”

“Already? Alright. Gotta give my good little slut what she wants.” 

You duck your head in embarrassment. The way he switches between praise and degradation does something to you that you can’t explain. Your core is so sopping wet that he slides in and out painlessly. He pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back into you hurriedly. 

“Ah, ah, eyes on me. I want to look into your pretty little eyes while I ruin you.”

You whine at his words and tighten your arms around his neck.

“Perfect. Keep making those sounds, Y/N. You know the drill by now.”

Kai finds a pace that suits you both. Sweat drips from his forehead and his mouth hangs open, out of breath, but he isn’t slowing down. You’re grateful that he’s holding your back, otherwise you would’ve fallen by now. 

“Kai!” You cry, hooking your legs around his waist to bring him even closer. He groans, and you decide to feed into that dirty talk he seems to like. “You fuck me so well. You’re a perfect fit for my tight cunt - oh!”

As expected, he loves it. “You bet I am, princess. Have you ever had anyone else fuck you this well?” 

“No! You know just what I need.”

“Not even that boy you went to prom with last year? I heard you telling Jo about your little after-party with him.”

“I just imagined he was you, Kai,” you admit. “And any hookup since, I just pretend it’s you fucking me into oblivion.”

Fire burns in his eyes. A possessiveness that tells you all you need to know - he owns you now. You’re his girl. There will be no more pretending, because he’ll be the only one fucking you. 

Kai continues to pound into you, but he’s getting sloppier by the second. He’s close, and you are, too. 

“I’m gonna come, Kai,” you pant, running a hand through his hair. It’s wet with his own sweat, and when you push it up, some of the strands stay. 

“Do it. Come for me. I’m close behind you.”

Permission granted, you orgasm a second time. Your body shakes and moans tumble from your lips. His name is mixed in with them; you chant it over and over like a prayer. 

“I don’t want to come in you, baby,” he manages to say. “Where should I-?”

You lift your shirt up over your head before he can finish his sentence. Kai’s eyes immediately go to your breasts, confined within your bra, but pushed up from the underwire. In the same moment he pulls out, you unclasp the hook on your back. Your tits bounce out from their cage just to be pelted with cum a moment later. You moan again, pleasured by the warmth of his seed on your body. 

Kai’s hands fall to the countertop as he tries to keep himself upright. The sounds falling from his lips are obscene, and beautiful, and you love every one of them. His eyes roll before looking into yours. Both of you take a minute to recover. 

“Your tits,” he finally says, still catching his breath, “are beautiful. Should’ve taken that bra off a long time ago.”

“There’s always a next time,” you suggest, hoping to see that glint in his eye. 

The words take a moment to register in his brain. When he looks back up at you, though, you see it. The possessiveness; the mischievousness. You’ll never belong to another man again. 

“Definitely a next time,” he repeats. 

Satisfied with the answer, you feel a small tension in your jaw relax. You look down at your breasts, sticky with drying cum, and swipe a bit of the load on your finger. Kai watches you suck it off, then go back for more. Once your chest is clear, you smack your lips. 

“You’re crazy, Y/N,” he leans forward and nips one of your tits. You giggle, then cover your front with your hands. Kai quickly grabs your hands, then sucks on the other tit. “That’s why I like you. Part of it, at least.” He drops your hands and looks you in the eye, completely serious. 

“I like you, too, Kai.”

He helps you off the counter in his next stride. You’re smoothing out your skirt, and he pulls up his pants, when he suddenly asks, “was what you said true?”

“When?”

“About the prom. And the hookups. Do you really imagine me?”

“It’s the only way I can get off.”

His face breaks out in a stupidly happy grin. “Does Jo know?”

You snort. “I wish. But of course not. It’s my little secret.”

“Well now this is our little secret,” he points a finger between the two of you. 

“That it is. And I just happen to be amazing at keeping secrets.” You throw him a wink, and then the two of you spend the rest of the afternoon talking, with the occasional break for a make-out session. 

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Thirteen — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Backstreet’s back, ALRIGHT! Or rather, the Bat Boys™️ sort their issues out. Tathaln’s ball is officially announced. Azriel gives Kaeda a piece of his mind. Fin has no business being the sexy dad he is. Roza’s worried about reader.

Word count: 6.3k.

Warnings: None for this part.

All is silent, save for the rhythmic tick-tick-ticking of the clock. Cassian has always hated that clock. Finds it fucking annoying.

But it fills the vacant hole that exists in the absence of conversation. That hole is open and gaping between Cassian and Azriel. It’s not a table that sits between them — it’s a dangerous, yawning chasm.

Az stares at Cass, and Cass feels uncomfortable. He’s seen that cold gaze be levelled on people hundreds of times, thousands. To be on the receiving end feels a little like staring death in the face. He actually kind of wishes that Kaeda hadn’t been sent off to the dorms to sleep off her drunken state, because at least then he wouldn’t be the only one here, being subjected to…this.

So, he stands up, so abruptly that his chair almost topples over, and asks, “Want me to make you some tea?” The question feels stupid the second it leaves his lips.

Azriel’s eyes track him, drink in every uneasy shift and twitch. It’s not that Cass is afraid of Az — though anybody with half a brain cell would be — just that he’s not good in these situations. Situations where he has to be serious and…and listen.

“Cassian.” The shadowsinger’s cold voice stops him before he can move. “When, in our years of friendship, have you ever once made me tea?”

Cass peers over a broad shoulder and shrugs half-heartedly. “First time for everything…”

“Sit.”

The word brooks no room for argument. Cassian does, indeed, sit.

It’s then that Azriel heaves a deep sigh, his entire body taut as a bowstring, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Cass blinks. “What?”

“I’m sorry—for what I did in the mead hall. I…had no right.”

“…But Y/N and I…”

“It’s not for me to dictate whether the two of you should or shouldn’t lie together. My…jealousy…is my problem, and mine alone.”

This is hard, Cassian realises — for Az to say this. For him to face it. And Cass can relate to that. Not everyone can be as silver-tongued as Rhysand. The Mother knows, Cass himself isn’t.

But he also isn’t an idiot. Some people may believe him to be, and that’s their mistake, because being proved wrong is usually the last thing they remember before waking up to a healer standing over them. He’s aware enough of his surroundings to know that something was brewing between Azriel and Y/N for years before Cass took her to bed…or kitchen counter, or…whatever.

“I need to be better,” Cassian offers, “at thinking before I act. Thinking about who I might hurt with my decisions. I’m working on it.”

Az studies his friend, and he feels no anger. If anything, it’s guilt that claws at the shadowsinger. He gave poor Cass a pretty good hiding over something that was, essentially, none of his business. And it could have all been different if Az simply wasn’t a coward, afraid of his feelings.

Something he needs to work on.

And perhaps he’s doing that as, rather than burying the topic, he asks, “What…what actually happened? How did you end up sleeping together? I mean…do you have feelings—”

“No.” Cassian cuts him off, blinking. “Gods, no. I love Y/N, you know that. But not romantically. I just…I felt so damn useless that night, Az. If you’d seen the way Y/N was…the self-loathing. I didn’t know how to help.”

Immediately, Azriel’s brow pinches. “Self-loathing?”

“Because of what her father did to her. When we were flying to Fenlaros, and she was the only one being carried in…”

Azriel slumps back in his chair, feeling like a godsdamned idiot.

He blinks forward and wonders what the fuck the point is in being born a shadowsinger when he obviously can’t read situations very well. Within seconds, it’s clicking into place.

“And then you started that fight with that Fenlarion male,” Cass continued. “and Kaeda just declared that it was her you were fighting over…and everyone has a limit, you know? I think that night was just all too much for Y/N. And she was so upset, so downtrodden…talking about how she hated herself. And I’m not good with words like Rhys is, and I’m not as observant as you are, but I am good at physical touch. Physical comfort. And it seemed like the only thing I could offer in that moment to take that bleakness away from her. But I should have thought about how you would feel—”

“I’m glad you were there for her.” Azriel blurts, realising, with every word, how much he means them. “I wasn’t. I failed her that night.”

“I really didn’t know that the two of you had been exploring things. If I did, I wouldn’t have done it. I mean…that fight you started wasn’t over Kaeda at all, was it?”

Az’s eyes shutter. And it goes against every natural instinct of his to strip himself bare and just…be honest. Every steel wall he’s ever built up is screeching in its effort to stand strong and not be caved in. And those walls were necessary in a life of darkness and hate…but that life is long gone.

What good do those walls do him in an environment where he has love, has people who genuinely care for him? As much as he wants to run and hide from his feelings as he always has…he thinks that the key to happiness may be on the other side of those walls. That a new bravery lays in letting some light filter through the cracks and warm a guarded heart.

His voice is quiet, laced with a self-preserving fear, as he admits, “No. It was not.”

Before Cassian can offer an encouraging response, the front door is swinging open, and Rhysand is kicking snow from his boots and trudging in. Azriel tenses like a threatened animal — but there is no threat here. Only safety, only love. He forces his shoulders to relax.

The violet-eyed male takes in the sight before him. Goes still as he looks between his two friends. “Please tell me this is a positive conversation.”

Cassian inclines his head. “Work in progress. Why don’t you make some tea?”

“Fuck you, make your own tea—”

“Make me some tea—”

“Kiss my ass, dickhole—”

“I’m in love with Y/N.” Azriel blurts.

It promptly shuts the other two males up.

They turn away from their bickering to look at the shadowsinger. He looks…shocked, by his own confession.

“I’m in love with her,” he breathes.

Cass and Rhys share a glance, and then Rhys is slowly approaching the table, carefully taking a seat like he doesn’t want to startle Azriel out of the moment.

“We know, Az.” Rhys tells him gently. “I mean…I think we always suspected…”

“I started that fight in Fenlaros because I was jealous of that damn male having his hands all over her. Saying the things he was saying. It was nothing to do with Kaeda.”

“You should really tell her — Y/N, I mean. Tell her how you feel.”

Azriel’s eyes trace a mark in the table as he admits, “Kind of already have. When she came to speak to me earlier today.”

Another glance is shared between Cassian and Rhys. And both are equally surprised — figure they would have heard something about it. Unless…unless it hadn’t gone down well.

And now that Rhys thinks about it, Y/N had been tense whilst he’d flown her back to Velaris. Taut in his arms and barely uttering a few words. Perhaps this was why.

“Did she…not take it well?” Rhys hedges. He wants to be delicate, not go blasting in at full-force. So rarely do they get to see such a vulnerable side to Az.

Azriel shakes his head once. “It’s not that, it’s…” He clears his throat. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“How?” Cass pushes, and Rhys shoots him a warning glance.

But Azriel doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t slink back in his seat. Instead, he lifts his head, and he levels his friends with a desperate look.

“There’s more that I haven’t told you.” He says.

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A short while later, Az thinks that maybe talking through his feelings is a good thing. Just saying the words has a little bit of weight easing from his chest, his shoulders.

But Cass and Rhys aren’t saying anything at all. Cass and Rhys are staring at him like he has two damn heads.

And then Cassian sits up, barking, “Tathaln Baralas wants what?”

“Exactly what I told you.” Azriel shakes his head. “He wants me to move to Fenlaros and work alongside him. Has some sort of backing from the High Lord, though I’m not sure how much. In a nutshell, Kaeda’s interest in me has always been driven by her father.”

“I knew that little wasp was up to something. You know she tried to kiss me tonight?”

Az shrugs. Really could not give a fuck. “I figured something had happened from the look on your face.”

“I never liked her. Nor her father—”

“Her father,” Rhys cuts in, “walks a very fine line in presuming to exceed in his role as a Camp Lord. His ego and title are going to his head a little, it would seem, if he believes he has the authority to scheme such ideas.”

“It’s a terrible idea.” Cass says. Neither of the other two noticed him get up, but he’s returning to his seat, speaking around a mouthful of food. “All Illyrians in one big camp? They’ll kill each other.”

Rhys is inclined to agree. But he turns a neutral — maybe gentle — expression on Az and asks him, “Do you want to go to Fenlaros?”

It would kill him if Az said yes. Would kill Cass, too. These recent days of being torn apart by tension has been bad enough. Being in different camps and not seeing each other is an almost unbearable thought.

But they would find a way to live with it, if Az decided he wanted to go. They’d find a way to be okay with it.

Such thick silence fills the room that the thudding of all three of their hearts is audible.

But then Azriel replies quietly, “No.”

Neither Rhys nor Cassian bother to hide their relief.

“I told Kaeda I would think about it.” Azriel goes on. “And I told Y/N that I’d promised Kaeda that. But I don’t think I’ve ever really intended to think about it — or needed to. I think…I think I was just using it to bide my time. To create space for myself and…avoid everything else.”

“By everything else,” Cassian chomps into a loaf of bread, “do you mean facing your feelings for Y/N?”

Azriel can’t deny it. He nods. “It’s not an easy thing to face…to be vulnerable. Hiding behind this Fenlaros situation has just been easier. Cowardly, yes, but…easier.”

“You can’t keep pushing her away, though, Az.” Rhys says. “You can’t let her think that you might be leaving if you have no intention of doing so.”

The shadowsinger’s eyes flutter shut, thick, dark lashes grazing his cheekbones. “Do you think I’ve fucked it beyond repair?”

“No.” Cassian offers. “But you will, if you don’t start handling this the right way. Tell Kaeda and Tathaln to fuck off. Tell Y/N you’re in love with her and want to see her naked—”

“Watch it.” Azriel warns quietly, but Cass continues, unperturbed.

“Just start letting more people in. And I’ll stop letting so many people in, because it gets me into trouble. I think…I think we all need to grow up a little. Do better.”

Rhysand’s brow pinches. “What do you mean, we all do? I’ve done nothing other than put my own pleasure aside to advise you idiots. What could I possibly need to do better?”

Cassian shrugs. “That haircut, for one. It’s annoying.”

“And when was the last time your hair saw a comb, Cassian?”

“When was the last time you were generous and made tea for your good, long-suffering friend?”

“So this is about the tea.”

“Of course it’s about the tea, jackass. Zakai clearly isn’t with you for your observational skills…”

Azriel sits back, allowing their bickering to become background noise. There’s a warmth to the sight, the sound, that makes him realise he never again wants a repeat of this situation — of being apart from his friends for days, tension thick between them.

He loves Rhys and Cassian. Loves them dearly.

Another reason why he could never, ever turn his back on this place.

And he finds himself actually being…grateful…that Cass was there for Y/N that night. That she didn’t have to suffer her self-loathing alone.

There’s still a lot to get through, of course. Daunting emotions and truths to face head-on. But as he watches the two loveable idiots in front of him take verbal swipes at each other, it’s the first time in a while that he wonders if things might actually be okay.

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The news is announced the next day, when Lord Devlon gathers a rather colourful bunch of his soldiers in the mead hall and stands at the front, silencing them all with a single shout. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel stand against the far back wall, their arms folded over their chests.

Gods, they hope it’s not another training exercise. Not so soon. Az has things he wants to resolve before he saunters off and possibly gets himself killed.

But Devlon reads the roll of parchment in his hands, a frown contorting his features. He looks up, his eyes very deliberately finding Rhysand as he announces to the room, “A message from the High Lord.”

And every other gaze is then swivelling to turn on Rhys, too. There’s something accusatory about it, like they’re assuming he’s privy to whatever it is their asses have been dragged out of bed to hear.

He isn’t. He wants to be in bed, too.

“Looks like you pricks better get your dancing shoes ready.” Devlon raises his eyebrows. “The High Lord is calling for a ball. Legions from all camps invited.”

This — this is exciting news for the brutish males who could fill the mead hall with their egos alone. Not because they have a particular affinity for dancing, but because amongst themselves, they’re already murmuring about which particular camps they dislike for some reason or other, and what they plan to do about it. So many bloodthirsty streaks are painted in those males’ eyes, stamping out the tiredness that lay there only moments before.

Nothing pricks an Illyrian male’s ears up quite like the prospect of a fight.

“The legions from each camp have been carefully selected, and you lucky fuckers will be representing Windhaven.” The Camp Lord continues, disdain dripping from his voice. He wants his men out there training in the cold, not prancing around a dance floor. “Plus-ones are allowed, also, so it might be time to splash out on a pretty gown for whoever is warming your bed these days. The ball is to be held on Starfall, at a neutral venue of the High Lord’s choosing, and I expect you all to make Windhaven — and me — look good. Any questions?”

“Do we actually have to dance?” One male asks, while another one pipes up with, “Will those pricks from Camp Steelshore be there?”

Rhys shuts out the litany of battling voices as he turns a concerned look on Az and Cass. Their expressions mirror his own. Something about this feels…off.

So while he looks like he’s merely lounging against the wall, hands in his pockets, he sends his inner claws spearing straight for Devlon’s mind. He doesn’t give away what he’s doing, not even slightly, as he roots around in the Camp Lord’s thoughts and grabs for his glimpse of the letter. Rhys scans it, drops the thought, and he’s out of Devlon’s mind and straightening himself up before the male can so much as flinch.

“Let’s go.” He tells his friends, and not Devlon nor the males around them seem to care as Azriel and Cassian follow him, the formidable trio traipsing out into the thawing snow, regardless of whether the meeting is over or not.

They’re halfway back to the house, safely out of earshot, when Cassian finally barks, “A ball? What the fuck?”

“At the request of Tathaln Baralas.” Rhys reveals. “That’s what the letter said. He took the idea to my father, and the asshole is humouring him. This has all got to be part of Tathaln’s plan.”

Cassian scowls and spits his disdain at the ground. “Someone needs to drive a poison arrow through that prick’s heart already. I don’t like this one bit.”

“It’s my father’s intentions I’m worried about.” Rhys shakes his head. “Tathaln only has the power that my father gives him. One word from him and this idea could be snuffed out and never mentioned again. And I expected that to be the case. Arrogant as fuck he may be, but my father isn’t stupid. He’ll know what a terrible idea this is, and I would have predicted that he’d laugh in Tathaln’s face for mentioning it. I didn’t think he’d actually entertain it…which means—”

“There’s something in it for him.” Azriel finishes.

Rhysand nods. “Every single move and choice my father makes is, ultimately, for his own gain. He would never agree to anything if he weren’t getting something out of it himself. Whatever Tathaln has proposed to him…my father will be using it for his own gain.”

Cassian opens the door to the cottage and strides in, forgetting — as always — to kick the snow from his boots. “What, though?” He asks. “What could Tathaln have that your father could want?”

Rhys shrugs and waves a hand, magic promptly mopping up the wet, melting trail left in Cassian’s wake. “That, I don’t know.”

“So what do we do?” Az watches him closely, trying to read the thoughts on the male’s face. His shadows reach out to him, too. “Are you going to talk to your father? Make him see how ridiculous this idea is?”

“No,” Rhys shakes his head. “There would be no point. I could lay a whole host of truths out to my father, and he’d go against them on ego alone. He must want something badly enough for him to be throwing money into it. This ball won’t be cheap.”

“And it won’t be a ball, either.” Cassian cocks an eyebrow. Roots through the kitchen cupboards for food. “Blood will be spilled. And you can’t dance on blood. I’ve tried. Too slippy.”

Rhys chooses to ignore that little scrap of information. Mostly because he doesn’t doubt it for a second. “I don’t want us to pre-empt anything.” He says. “If I go straight to my father with concerns about any of this, it could blow up in our faces, instead. For the time being, I think we should just…go along with it. Watch it play out, and see what happens. My father is unpredictable. Even I can’t tell you what goes on in his head.”

“I can speak with Kaeda.” Az clears his throat. “See if she’ll tell me anything.”

“You have fun with that.” Cassian mumbles, biting into something. “I’d sooner chop my balls off and nail them to the front door.”

“Such a way with words. It’s no wonder, really, that females fall at your feet.”

Cass shoots him a wicked grin. And this…this is nice. What they’ve both missed. This is normal.

“I’ll keep an eye and ear out for anything.” Rhys drags them back to the subject at hand. “But my father’s good at not letting anyone know things until he wants them to know them. And he’s clearly serious about this.”

Cassian swallows. Takes another bite. “And until then? Until we know what he’s even serious about?”

Violet eyes sparkle with mischief, and one side of Rhysand’s lips tips up. “Until then, boys,” he says, “you’d better practice your dancing.”

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Azriel really hopes she’s not there, but sure enough, when he enters his room at the dorms, Kaeda is sitting up in his bed.

It gives him a little bit of satisfaction to see her look…less than perfect, for once. Her hair is knotted, and even the vibrancy of the red shade seems a little dulled. Her skin is sallow, her eyes bleary. He wonders if she’s as miserable as she currently looks.

She beholds him with a strangely coy look, like she’s waiting for him to rip into her. But if she really knew the shadowsinger, she’d know that that is not his style. He does not shout. He rarely fights physically. His danger lies in his quiet voice and icy stare.

Kaeda’s tired eyes fall to the blanket pooled around her waist, and she murmurs, “You’re angry with me.” Her throat bobs with a swallow. “I understand. But I appreciate you putting me to sleep in here when I was in a vulnerable state.”

“I would have done it for anyone.” Az presses his back against the wall, folding his arms. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The female merely bows her head. Doesn’t bother to argue.

“I have a question.” Azriel then says. “I’d like an answer.”

“I know that Cassian has probably told you about last night, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed him. I was drunk and upset and I—”

“I don’t care about that.” He really doesn’t, and it shows on his face. “I want to know what your father is playing at by organising an Illyrian ball. I don’t believe for a second that the gesture is an innocent one.”

She glances down again, but Azriel doesn’t buy the coy act for one moment.

“Kaeda.” His voice is laced with warning. “Tell me.”

“It’s just…a ball. A ball to have all camps in one place, so he can get a good look at what each one has to offer. It’s nothing sinister.”

“So, a chance for him to scout more supporters for his cause.”

“He’s trying to make a change, Azriel. A good one—”

“He’s interfering with lives. Tearing families apart.”

“Good results require difficult choices.” Her voice hardens.

The shadowsinger bites out a cold, brusque laugh, turning away from her. “Mother above, he has you trained well.”

There’s movement behind him. Kaeda is kicking the sheets away and pushing to her feet. And she’s…seething.

“You would laugh in the face of somebody trying to make a positive change?” She snaps. “What reason have you to be so arrogant? At least my father is trying to make a difference. All you’re doing is clinging to a miserable life in a miserable place where you don’t even have a family or home of your own—”

“Except that I do.” Azriel rounds on her so quickly that his wing knocks a fragrance bottle off a shelf. “I may not have your riches, and that’s fine, because I have a group of people — a family I made — who love me enough to care whether or not I come home at night. Who want nothing less for me than happiness and contentedness, and not just to use me as a pawn in some convoluted plan that will do more harm than good. I have reason to be in Windhaven, whether it’s miserable or not. I have love here. So much of it. And there’s nothing — not a damn thing — that would make me turn my back on it.”

Something in his impassioned speech clearly hits a nerve with Kaeda. She goes still.

And she looks…small, despite being fairly tall. She looks…insignificant.

Her eyes fill with tears. One spills over and rolls down her cheek as she whispers, “Please, Azriel.”

Azriel says nothing. Stares at her.

“Please.” She takes a step closer. “I’m not above begging. I…” Her voice cracks. “I need this. I need you to say yes—”

“Your father,” he interrupts quietly, “is playing a very dangerous game. And he’s using you to do it.”

“You don’t understand. I…if I can’t give him what he wants, I’m finished. I’ll have no home to go to, nobody on my side.”

“You already have nobody on your side. You’re his daughter and he’s dangling your livelihood over your head and ready to snatch it away if he doesn’t get what he wants. You’re already finished.”

“Please.” She says again. Tears are streaming, now, and she tries fruitlessly to wipe them away. “Please, just…if this is about Y/N—”

“Do not,” he grits out, “bring her into this.”

“She’s already in this. I know that you want her and not me…that you always have…and that’s fine. Bring her to Fenlaros with you, if you must. I’m sure my father could be persuaded on that. But just…please—”

“You’re not listening, Kaeda. This isn’t just about my family. It’s about all the other families that would be separated, ripped apart by your father’s scheming. He’s power hungry. This is just the beginning of a whole host of self-serving plans that will bring him glory — do not doubt that for a second. People like him are never satisfied, and he needs to be stopped. Not encouraged.”

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is so weak, Az isn’t convinced she believes her own words. “He just wants a better future for Illyria—”

“No.” Az levels her with a pointed look. “He wants a better future for himself. I will not play a part in that, and neither will my loved ones.”

“Azriel, please—”

“I will attend your father’s ball, just as Lord Devlon has ordered me to do.” He breezes to the door, not caring that this is his room he’s leaving her behind in. He stops, palm poised on the handle. “But as for delivering a male straight into your father’s den? You better start trying that seduction on somebody else. Because there is nothing that would make me follow you into that camp.”

He leaves without a glance back. And while it sits uncomfortably inside him that he made a female cry…he can’t help feeling like he’s finally doing the right thing.

About time, too.

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This — this is the last thing you ever would have expected of coming to Velaris.

The tonic you’d needed was an extended amount of girl time with Roza. And yet here you are…in the High Lord’s arms.

“This is useless.” You murmur, aware of every single place your body brushes against his. One of his hands is a firm weight on the small of your back, the other clasping yours. “I’m not a natural dancer. Fuck, I’ve never even been to a dance.”

Fin’s mouth tips up at the corners. “There’s that filthy mouth.” His hand lets go of yours, opting to move up to the cut of your jaw, where he allows his thumb to rest on your lower lip. “You,” the pad of it swipes slowly over your mouth, “are going to be exquisite.”

You square your shoulders. Cock a challenging eyebrow. “Is that genuine encouragement, High Lord? Or an order?”

A deep chuckle. Slowly — reluctantly —he lets his hand drop. “Both.”

Flirting with him like this, playing the part of the High Lord’s pet, is a necessary evil. You’re just so surprisingly good at it that you can’t discern whether it’s an affront to him, or to Roza. Or both.

But you can’t deny that you’ve been flattered by his undivided attention this past week. And perhaps he’s been flattered by yours, too.

Mother bless Roza for her undying support. The best you can do for her, right now, is to keep her in the loop. She merely tells you to be careful.

But a week — a week of cosying up to Fin, of breaking through his exterior and appealing yourself to him. You humour him with these dance lessons, with the preposterously expensive shopping trips and dinners, the late night fireside conversations. Anything, everything, to get him to tell you what truth lies behind the excited glint in his eyes whenever he speaks of the ball. To tell you what it is he’s planning.

Perhaps you’re not appealing enough. You are no more aware than anyone else. And that’s really fucking frustrating.

At least your hard work has kept you from thinking about Azriel every five minutes.

Your breath still heaving from your dance efforts, you make your way over to the table of refreshments by the huge, arcing windows that overlook the city. The High Lord’s palace, you have to admit, is a place you might miss once you’re back in Windhaven. You’ve never been one for luxury, never had more than a few things to your name — but the views are what makes you feel like the richest person in all of Prythian. These are not the cold, barren views of your camp, but a place of such vibrancy, it sometimes makes you want to cry. It’s like the setting of a storybook, laid out right before you.

From behind, slow, graceful footsteps sweep across the wooden floor. Fin comes to a stop so closely behind you that his body heat encases you.

Fingertips make contact with your skin, the back of your neck. The sleeveless tunic you wore for your practice now feels like nothing more than a paper towel.

“You have such beautiful skin.” Fin says roughly, and you tense. So far, this week, he’s kept a respectful distance away. Hasn’t put you in any awkward positions.

You pivot under his touch, pressing your back up against the table enough that his hand drops. It’s not entirely for show as you smile apologetically and tell him, “Sorry — scars.”

Such genuine, slicing rage fills his face. The intensity of it almost knocks you breathless.

“I will kill him.” He says the words like a lover’s promise. “With my bare hands, I will kill him for taking your wings.”

He had the power to stop the practice before you were even born. He is very old — over nine-hundred-years — and very powerful. What he says, goes.

And yet…he means it. You can see it. And perhaps you have seen so much unkindness, such brutality, that little scraps of ferocity, of passion, in your defence, make you a blinded fool.

But a part of him — however small — actually cares about you. Enough to mark your abuser for death.

But your father’s blood will soak your hands, and yours only.

You smile up at him, wickedly, cunningly, prettily. “No, you won’t.” You reply. “Because I will do it first.”

And the fury in his stare simmers immediately to a different sort of heat. Your words are a flirtation to him — a cut of raw meat dangled above a hungry, waiting animal. They make him feel something.

“Such a murderous little thing.” His soft laugh caresses your skin. He sounds pleased — impressed. “I like that. I like it a lot.”

“I would hope so. I am to be your special guest at the ball, after all.” A small voice in your head wants to coax him; tell me what you’re planning, tell me what to expect.

But, as always, he steers the conversation away, a vague, mysterious smile on his face. “Do you like it here in Velaris, my murderess?”

“I do, very much so.”

“I can’t help pondering how much you would thrive here. You were made for so much more than Windhaven. Illyria, even.”

A soft, coy smile — one that comes from deep within that part of you that wants the praise, the compliments — that needs them. “Many would disagree with you.”

“Show them to me, and I will twist their minds until they see in you what I do.”

“And what is it you see in me?” A disingenuous little liar. A good actress. A traitor.

Fin leans down, and for one startling, heart-stopping, stomach-lurching moment, you think his mouth might meet yours.

But his lips brush over your cheek in a tender, barely-there caress. He presses a kiss to the skin before retracting. Straightening himself out. The way he slides his hands into his pockets with casual arrogance reminds you so much of Rhys that you miss your friend instantaneously.

“I see beauty that is unappreciated, and intelligence that is underestimated.” Fin says. “And I see a female that I wouldn’t mind having at my side.” His eyes trace you from head to toe. “I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

No response sits on your tongue. You think you might be too surprised by the genuine praise. The fact that the High Lord actually feels some level of affection towards you.

Maybe you’re not so bad at these games.

He turns without waiting for your response, and only when he’s at the door does he make eye contact with you over his shoulder.

“Keep practicing the dancing, my murderess.” He says. “We’ll make a fine pair at that ball.”

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If Roza weren’t so worried, she might laugh at the three expressions of outrage that meet her when she strolls into the cottage.

Rhysand jumps up immediately and demands, “Did you fly here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

Roza merely rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. “Don’t get your undergarments in a bunch, Rhysand. I’m pregnant — not on my death bed. The babe is fine.”

Her son does not look convinced. Neither do Azriel or Cassian. As if they’re, like, experts on pregnancy, or something.

“What are you doing here, mother?” Rhys stalks straight to the fire and stokes it. Then straight over to the kitchen to make a hot drink. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Mostly.” Roza pauses. “I hope.”

Azriel sits up at that. “Is Y/N alright?”

“She’s fine.” If playing games with the High Lord of the Night Court can be considered fine. Roza eases herself into a seat, and Cassian is promptly propping cushions behind her back. “I want to talk to you about the ball.”

Cass’s lips turn up into a half-smile. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, Roz. Promise.”

“You’d better be. Because I want all three of you looking out for Y/N at that ball, do you hear me?”

The command is a firm one, and yet the three males don’t straighten up at her matriarchal tone like they usually do. Instead, they share a puzzled glance, frowns pinching their features.

“It’s a ball for Illyrian soldiers and their guests of choice.” Rhys explains, carrying a steaming mug over to her. “None of us are bringing her along. Not to that.”

“You may not be.” Roza slides a protective hand over her bump. “But your father is.”

All three males go so preternaturally still, it’s almost frightening.

Rhys bites out, quietly, “What?”

“Your father is taking Y/N to the ball as his special guest. He’s bought her a gown, taught her to dance — he’s serious about this.”

“He can’t.” The shadowsinger’s face is like rolling thunder. “He cannot take her there. All those males—”

“That’s precisely why I’m not attending. He needs someone in my place, and he’s taking Y/N.”

“He can choose someone else.” Azriel’s clipped tone, his panic, is not at all personal to Roza. Usually, he would never speak to her in such a way, but—

But this is Y/N they’re talking about. Y/N in the High Lord’s hands, at a ball with so many Illyrian males, too many Illyrian males.

“Watch your tone, Azriel.” Rhys warns, but Roza is holding up a hand. Because she gets it — the panic.

“I’ve tried telling him to take somebody, anybody, else.” She says. “He’s insistent — absolutely adamant that he wants Y/N.”

“But why?” Cassian frowns.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if his kindness to her is genuine or not.” She shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking her bump. “All I know is that he’s taking Y/N to that ball, and I’m not going to be there. You know, Rhysand, that there is no changing your father’s mind once it’s set. I need the three of you to look out for her.”

Because Y/N is just as much a daughter to Roza as the little girl growing in her belly. They know that.

Rhys inclines his head, reaching out to place a hand over Roza’s. “We will, mother.” He promises. “Whatever game he’s playing…we’ll look after Y/N.”

Roza’s eyes dart to Azriel, to Cassian. “Do you promise?”

“We promise.” Cassian, unfazed as always, grins. “You just focus on the little one, Roz.”

Azriel’s face is grave, but he nods once. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”

Y/N is in good hands with them, Roza knows. She may even be in good hands with Fin, depending on what his true intentions are. Perhaps being at the High Lord’s side is the safest place she can be. It’s an unknown.

But one thing Azriel does know, as he wishes and wishes for this damn ball to just be over already, is that he’s wracked with guilt.

He can’t help feeling like it’s his fault — that his actions, his behaviour, chased Y/N right into a viper’s den.

That he’ll stop at nothing to get her out of it.

pom tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes @hihelloitsbooktimeppl

[ameifyy]

UZI DOORMAN X FEM READER HCS

— tw : none! :3

She wears a lot of rings. She has one specific finger that she puts rings on that remind her of you, like for example, if your favorite color was yellow, she'd have a yellow ring on.

Pet names for you are Princess, Babe, Baby, and Gorgeous.

She likes kissing your shoulders a lot, if you're sensitive to it she does it more often just because she loves seeing your reactions

VERY flirty. She's honestly kinda good at it too. Sending little winks and blowing kisses at you, making goofy jokes

Awkward kisser at first, but she's really good at it once she actually learns

If you're taller than her (which you most likely are), she has to get on her tippy toes to give you kisses and stuff. Sometimes she's bored by the concept of getting on her tip toes and will just jump into your arms though

She's an over-thinker, not a lot but she is. Like to where she needs reassurance but not constantly. She just wants to make sure you still love her, and aren't annoyed by her attitude and personality.

She's kinda clingy, attached to you every chance she gets. Her love language is quality time, so obviously she enjoys spending as much time with you as possible.

She spends a lot of time at your place, especially when you're busy with stuff. It's basically a second home at this point. If you're just laying in bed on your phone or whatever, she's most definitely laying on your chest watching you.

She likes dressing you up in her style, even if you two are the exact opposite. She also likes matching with you! You two have matching hair clips and bracelets.

NSFW WARNING BELOW CUT

(I need 2 get freaky w her so bad.)

She's a switch, but mostly the dominant one. When she is the submissive one, she takes it GOOD.

She's really loud, do not do anything with her unless you're completely alone. Covering her mouth won't do much.

She likes breasts a lot, I don't really know why I have this headcanon, I just feel it in my bones. Do not wear a low cut shirt around her unless you're looking for the pounding of your life.

When she's on the receiving end, she holds your hand during it. Not tightly, just enough to where you know she isn't letting go.

She curses a lot during it, especially if she's the dominant one. Pounding into your ass with a strap-on, letting out a string of curses as she gets closer to finishing.

Most definitely used the solver on you at least once. Won't elaborate, let your mind run wild

If you're desperate for it, she will occasionally make you beg for it. It turns her on, and overall just makes her giggle.

She's really good with her fingers, and she can multitask. Watching one of her pirated animes while fingering you as you sit in her lap.

She LOVES it when you ride her strap-on, she thinks it's the hottest thing ever. Head thrown back, body shaking from the pleasure.

She likes challenging you, not breaking your limits but seeing how much you can take in small amounts. No matter what, she doesn't want to hurt you. So she won't do it much.

Mainly whimpers, loud moans, and occasionally loud groans will come out of her.

She likes getting eaten out, the grip on your head WILL be tight. Not enough to hurt.

She's a quick learner, she catches on to what turns you on and off really quickly.

She can last about 2-4 rounds, depending on how horny she was.

She's somewhat flat chested, only an A cup. She's slightly into nipple play

When everything is finally taken care of, she'll get you to help clean up and then snuggle up against you, listening to your heart/core beating.

Thank you for reading my literal MESS of lesbianism. I need her so bad

[alotofpockets]

We've got you | Arsenal WFC

Pairing: Arsenal x Teen!Reader

Request: Arsenal teen reader fic where they have an eating disorder and the team helps them through it.

Warnings: Eating disorders, passing out, talk of negative body image.

A/n: Thank you @catasha for proof-reading and your feedback & thank you @lessi-lover and @greynatomy as well for your help 💗

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

As the youngest player on the team a lot of your teammates kept a close eye on you. They made sure you did your homework, helped you pack your bag, and in general were there for you for whatever you needed. There was one thing they hadn’t noticed though, and it was that you had started eating less and less. You were actively trying to hide it from them, so you didn't blame them for not noticing.

You had been diagnosed with an eating disorder when you were fourteen years old, and though you had been doing better the past year, your old habits started to reappear. Of course, something like that doesn’t really go away, but the voices in your head telling you that you shouldn’t eat have been quiet.

None of your teammates knew about your diagnosis, as you hadn;t struggled with it during your time with Arsenal. Well, not until now. In your plan to hide it from your teammates, you hadn’t counted on someone knowing the symptoms of an eating disorder, but one of them did. Alessia Russo, one of the more recent signings was keeping an eye on your food intake, unbeknownst to you. She had noticed you barely touching your breakfast. At first she didn’t think anything of it, but when she saw you only eating a few bites of your lunch, until you excused yourself, her mind started to wonder. She recognized patterns she had been stuck on in her highschool years, and hoped that she was wrong, but she couldn’t just let the thoughts go.

After training that afternoon, Alessia walked with you back to your bags, having placed hers conveniently next to yours at the start. The two of you are talking, when she grabs a protein bar from her bag. “Man, I’m full. Can I interest you in the other half? I would hate for it to go to waste.” You hesitated, but took the bar from her, not fully confident in denying food one on one. Alessia continued talking, but you didn’t hear a word she was saying as you were trying to convince the voices in your head you should eat the bar she offered. You don’t deserve to eat. You’ve gained weight, eating the bar will make it go up more. You tried to fight it. I already took the bar, I have to at least take a bite to show my appreciation. After fighting with the voices in your head for what felt like half an hour, you managed to move the bar up to your mouth with a shaky hand. Luckily Alessia was busy untying her boots, and didn’t see your hands shaking. One small bite is all you were able to eat before the voices in your head started to get loud again. You smiled to Alessia, “Thank you for this.” and head back to the locker rooms. Once you were out of sight from the rest of the team, you threw the bar in a nearby trash can. 

You were currently training in Portugal, so you didn’t have much time where you weren’t surrounded by your teammates. Each meal time was taken together, so you diverted to making it seem like you were eating by tactically moving around the food on your plate, putting a bite on your fork and moving it around while you were conversing with the people surrounding you. Trying to keep their focus on your words, rather than the lack of food actually entering your mouth.

Alessia stuck around until most of the room had cleared out, leaving just the two of you in the room. She moved over to your table, “Hey y/n, how are you doing?” You look up from your plate, “Oh hi Lessi, I’m doing alright. How are you?” She smiled at you softly, “I’m doing alright as well. I wanted to check in with you, to see if everything was okay, since I noticed you hadn’t really touched your food.” Your cheeks turned red, had she noticed? You quickly shake off the thought and shrug your shoulders, “Oh, yes, I’m okay. Just not very hungry, that’s all.” Alessia didn’t want to push you, knowing that that could make it worse, so she settled on talking about football instead, to bond with you, and not let you be on your own. 

The next day you were running around during practice, you loved drills where you got to show your speed. The team was split into two lines, as you would be competing against each other. One person from each team would go at the same time, sprinting to the finish line, the one that reached it first would earn the cone for their team. The team that got to ten cones first would win the exercise. 

Your team was currently at nine cones, while the other team was at eight. It was you running against Lotte, and if you were the fastest, you would get the victory for your team. “You’re going down, grandma.” The team knew you as a joker, so Lotte was used to your antics. “Yeah yeah, you just focus on not tripping over your own feet, kiddo.” You roll your eyes at her, “That was one time!”  

The two of you get ready on the line and wait for the countdown and the whistle to blow. You were running neck and neck, until about three quarters of the way, it was then that you got a step ahead of Lotte, but your lead didn’t last long, as suddenly you found yourself getting weak and dizzy. You divert from the straight line that you were running, and slow down your run. Lotte immediately noticed that something was wrong, and stopped her run to help you. “Hey kid, what’s wrong?’ She grabs your shoulders to keep you in place. “Dizzy.” Is all you get out before you collapse in her arms. 

You passed out for a moment, but luckily the medics were quick by your side. “What happened?” You ask when you see all your teammates standing around you with worried looks on their faces. “You passed out, kid. Do you know what happened?” Leah had your head laying in her lap. “Don’t know.” You say groggily, still not feeling well. “Let’s get you to one of the physio rooms to get you checked out.” One of the medics reached down their hands to help you up. 

Everyone was in the hallway, waiting to hear what was going on, a few of them pacing the hallway, and others sitting along the wall. “She was joking around just moments before, how could this happen out of nowhere?” Leah voiced the thought that most of the girls shared. “I might have an idea.” Alessia said softly. 

The medics walk out of the physio room once they are done examining you, “She seems alright now. We don’t know what happened yet, so we will have to keep a close eye on her. We advised her to stay in the room for at least another hour, just until she feels a bit stronger again. You can see her though.” 

After what Alessia had just shared with the group, just Alessia, Leah, and Kim go into the room first. “Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Leah sits down on the bed with you, and wraps her arm around you. “I still feel a bit weak, but otherwise okay. You all look very serious though, what’s going on?” Leah looks up to Kim with tears welling in her eyes, not being able to do the talking without breaking. You were like a little sister to her, and it hurt seeing you like this. “It came under our attention that you haven’t really been eating, and we wanted to check in with you. You really scared us out there kid, you need to take care of your body. Can you please tell us how long this has been going on?” They knew now, so hiding was no longer an option. “I was diagnosed with an eating disorder when I was fourteen.” You could feel Leah tense beside you, as she came to the realisation just how serious this was. “I never mentioned it because it’s not been a problem since I’ve joined the team. It started playing up again a few weeks ago, I can handle it.” You were downplaying your wording, trying not to scare your teammates. Leah shook her head, “You’re not handling it though, you literally passed out!” You were shocked with the emotion behind her voice. “Leah, I’m fine.” Leah felt herself getting angry, “No, y/n, you’re not.” She said before she left the room, not wanting to get angry with you while she knew you were struggling.

It stays quiet for a moment, before Alessia speaks up. “I struggled with my weight and my body a lot growing up. I wanted to be skinny, but it ended up making me too weak to play. I learned that for football being strong was more important than my body fitting this image in my mind that society had created.” Kim continued where Alessia left off, “It’s important to give your body the right nutritions, it is for all of us, but especially for a growing body like yours. Skipping meals can harm your body, more than it will do good. We understand that this is a lot, but we really do not want anything like today to happen to you again.” Tears started to form in your eyes. Kim stands up and goes in to hug you, “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you.” 

Once you calmed down a bit, Kim continued the conversation. They wanted to do everything in their power to help you, because they understood how mentally challenging an eating disorder could be. “We’re going to set up a meeting with the dietitian and nutrition team tomorrow, and get you on a plan that will help you eat in a healthy way, that is based on your body specifically. Alessia is going with you, because her experience will help make sure your best interest is at heart. We are going to be there with you every step of the way. You’re a part of a team, and that means we don’t let anyone go through something alone, okay?” You nodded, “Okay.”

In the hallway Leah is crying into Lia’s arms, after she asked the rest of the team to give you some space today. “She’s acting like nothing is wrong, Wally.” The older girl rubs her hands over her best friend’s back in soothing motions. “I understand, but she needs you Lee. I know you’re angry with her for not telling anyone she’s been struggling, and with yourself for not noticing she was, but let’s focus on the fact that it’s out in the open now, and you can help her.” 

Lia’s words were convincing, so much so that Leah headed back into the room, and asked for a moment alone with you. “Hey kiddo, I’m sorry I ran out. I couldn’t handle my emotions in a way that would be fair to you, so I needed a moment.” You smile at her softly, “It’s fine Lee. I understand, it was big news, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.” Leah steps forward and hugs you to her chest. “Let’s get you home, okay?” You had been living with Leah since you moved to London, probably the reason that you were closest with her. “Okay.”

The next morning Leah drove you to London Colney for your appointment with the dietitian and nutrition team. Alessia was already waiting when you arrived, she greeted you with a hug. “It’s good to see you, kiddo. Are you ready?” You returned the hug. “As I’ll ever be.” 

It was very helpful having the both of them there. Leah for reassuring you, and Alessia to make sure you answered all their questions properly. After an hour of talking with the team, they had set up the basics of the plan for you. In the next couple of days they would get back to you with a more elaborate plan, including meal options and recipes. 

You know that your journey with food and your body weren’t going to be easy, but you knew that you weren’t going to be alone. The team had always been like family to you, and yesterday showed you again that they would love you unconditionally, and that they would be there for you, no matter what. 

-----

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[mm-lurking]

Why do you care? - Blade

Perhaps you should have thought twice before deciding to take on a powerful enemy at night or perhaps you shouldn’t have, if it means you get a certain someone to care about you.

I wrote this at 11 pm sleep deprived and out of my mind for like many nights straight please forgive me in advance for the grammar etc English is like my 4th language thank you WC: 3440 words Warnings: none just angst, fluff, some description of blood and wounds and me being a simp —

Your blade clashes with the Antimatter Legion creature’s weapon continuously leaving no room for you to think or even plan an escape. With each strike you find yourself feeling weaker and wobbly, as if the enemy were quite literally taking your strength away. The large wound on your back stings and burns and you can feel blood dripping down your ripped shirt, soaking into your pants and splattering on the floor. If it weren’t for the stupid enemy ambushing you and leaving you with a slash on your back, you would have already beaten the crap out of it and gone home for a good night’s sleep.

But no, here you were struggling even to cause reasonable damage that allowed you to deliver the final blow or at least escape. Your movements were getting more fast-paced and aggressive out of frustration which caught the enemy off guard. When will this end?!? With one last ounce of energy you had left in you, you gritted your teeth and struck the creature in the chest, delivering a reasonable blow and causing it to retreat.

“Ha…huff…”

The adrenaline from the fight started to wear out and it didn’t take long before you fell on your hands and knees, clutching your shirt and trying to breathe. You did not have the energy to sit upright, let alone walk back to your residence. Unfortunately for you, the loss of blood caught on quickly. Before you could even formulate a plan your body gave way and you went crashing on the stone pavement head first, with the wound on your back feeling more uncomfortable as the cold winds of the night caressed your back. That’s all you remembered before everything turned black.

- How tardy, Blade tsked as he leaned against the front wall of your residence, waiting impatiently by the door. He had checked the time thrice already in the past ten minutes. As requested by Kafka, you were supposed to meet him at your residence to discuss some business. Why the hell did Kafka choose me for this? he thought to himself, what a waste of my time to associate with someone like her. Yet, despite his annoyance he still waited and waited until his frustration got the better of him.

Glaring at your front door, he walked off. He would let Kafka know later that you weren’t there for whatever reason and ask her to stop sending him to you every time. For some reason no matter how many times he told Kafka he didn’t want to see you, she would still find a way to send him to you. Was it because of some sort of mutual agreement between you and Kafka? Who knows. He didn’t care and nor did he want to. He just wanted to be left alone.

The path he took back home required him to cross the very street you were unconscious on. Of course, he didn’t know that. Blade was walking at his usual pace when he spotted a figure in the distance in the middle of the street, one that looked awfully similar to yours. He tsked again and shook his head. I must be seeing things. Yet as he continued walking, this lingering feeling he had about you continued to pester him and fully manifested when he approached the figure and realised-

“…!”

-it was you. His eyes widened momentarily and his breath hitched as he examined your state, trying to make sense of what had happened to you. There was blood everywhere around you; pools of it that were semi-dried and half-fresh. Your hair was all over the place with most of it soaked in blood from your injuries. And that gash on your back; the way your flesh was practically visible all the way down to the innermost layers of your muscle, the bruises that had started to form around your wound, the scratches and marks on your hands and arms, all of it, every single inch of your injury caused unfamiliar emotions to stir in his heart. It made his blood boil stronger and stronger. In a split second, he knelt by your side, uncaring how your blood soaked into his pants or how he was dirtying his clothes from the pavement dirt.

He gently flipped you over and the sight of your pale face made his heart drop for a moment. There was no sign of life on your face, you looked concerningly peaceful and your forehead had bruised from crashing into the pavement. If it weren't for more fresh blood gushing down his fingers from holding your back, he would have thought he lost you. Blade was no stranger to injuries and wounds. Blood and bruises were a normal day occurrence to him, they were his companion through this cursed immortal life of his. Yet, when it came to you, seeing you in such a state scared him, an emotion he seldom felt. He didn’t care if he was the one to get hurt but if it was you, he couldn’t stand it. He wouldn’t stand it.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he carefully put his arms behind your knees and neck to avoid touching your back before picking you up and walking hastily to the hideout the Stelleron hunters were residing in. Was he a wanted criminal? Yes, but he didn’t care. All that mattered right now was you and your well-being. The door opened with a loud bang and he walked in holding your limp body, his eyes searching everywhere to find a suitable location to tend to your injuries.

“Bladie there you are. How was-”

Kafka stopped talking mid-speech as she noticed Blade and the distressed condition he was in. She stared at the familiar body he was holding and remained speechless before running off to get medical supplies they had lying around for Blade’s mara-struck symptoms. He quickly laid you on your side in his lap and proceeded to build a makeshift bed using blankets and pillows so he could finally tend to your injuries. Kafka returned with supplies in her hands, still confused and flabbergasted at what had occurred and why Blade cared in the first place.

“What happened to her?”

“...”

He said nothing and immediately started to perform first-aid, first gently pushing the torn shirt off your back and brushing your hair aside. Despite his hands being gloved and bandaged, he felt tingles in his fingers as he grazed your skin. Destruction was what he was skilled at yet the way he handled you was gentle and soft, afraid that he would hurt you, as if you were made out of porcelain. He worked skillfully and swiftly on your gash, cleaning and stitching it all up to the best of his abilities before turning to the smaller injuries you had on your arms. By the time he was done with just your back, the moon shone at the highest point of the sky, indicating how long it had taken for him.

But he didn’t care as he looked out the window and then back at you. The moonlight basked your figure in a gentle glow and he found his heart oddly skipping a beat as he stared. Your weak breathing was enough to console him, enough to let him know you were at least alive. Subconsciously he found himself reaching out to caress your cheek, softly tracing over your skin as he watched you for a moment. What was it about you that he couldn’t get enough of? Why was he so persistent in pushing you away while simultaneously wanting your company? Why did he-

“I will call one of her friends over tomorrow to take her to the nearest infirmary.”

Kafka voiced out breaking his line of thoughts. He quickly retracted his fingers and cleared his throat as he worked on your forehead bruise. The woman chuckled and shook her head, smiling slightly. Was this all part of Elio’s plan? Who knows.

“She should be awake in the morning.”

He stated calmly but the burning gaze in his eyes betrayed him. Judging by the severity of your wounds, he wasn’t even sure if you would make it out the night. Kafka said nothing and silence fell once again.

“You should rest Bladie.”

“No need.”

“I can look after her.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

The woman smiled once again and shook her head.

“Alright if you say so. If you need me I will be in the other room. Silverwolf has brought back some interesting information for me to sift through.”

She waved her hand around and left the room leaving Blade alone with you. As he finished putting the last bandage on you, he pulled you closer on his lap, gently placing an arm on your waist to keep you from slipping before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

The image of you lying in your own blood flashed through his head again and his eyebrows furrowed. What if he had never come to save you? What if he had left through some other street and never saw you? The idea of him not seeing you alive again tomorrow, the idea of you no longer coming to meet with Kafka, the idea of you no longer looking in his direction…all of it caused a pang in his heart. It was a strange sensation that he didn’t understand and a feeling he couldn’t quite fathom. The grip on your waist tightened as opened his eyes to look at you. You looked so peaceful and content, almost like you hadn’t been gravely injured at all, like you hadn’t nearly bled to death.

As much as he wanted to remain in this position and watch over you, he had to get medicine for your injuries. He reluctantly placed you on the makeshift bed and placed pillows around to prop you up before getting up to go find some.

—

A wave of sharp pain surges through your body prompting your consciousness to start awakening. The pain combined with your tired body creates an uncomfortable feeling in you and with each ripple of pain, you find yourself awakening slowly but surely, like a diver trying to reach the water’s surface to break out. 

“Hngh…”

A groan slips out from your mouth as you slowly open your eyes. As you adjust to your surroundings in confusion, the pain of your back wound comes back in full effect causing you to cry out loud. It burns, stings and aches all at once and the threshold is way beyond your bearable pain level. You try to move around but no position eases your suffering and so ultimately you try to sit upright, struggling as tears run down your face. Footsteps quickly approach you and before you can wrap your head around who it is, the figure hurriedly sits down with a bottle in his hand, concern written all over his face as he tries to get you to lie down.

“Bl-blade?”

You say through your tears, choking as you struggle to breathe. You refuse to lay down and uncomfortably shuffle around trying to even get an ounce of relief. Your mind is blurry and confused as you attempt to recall what had happened and what is currently going on.

“You’re hurt.”

He watches as you stare at him through the tears in your eyes and something about that causes those unfamiliar emotions from earlier to stir in his heart again. You shake your head groaning and seething in pain as you attempt to talk.

“Why are you- what-“

“Drink.”

He doesn’t give you an answer and instead supports your neck with one hand as he brings the bottle closer to your face with his other one. You scrunch your face and move away which causes him to frown.

“Foolish. You’re injured. Drink it unless you want to continue withering in pain.”

His voice is sharp and low which causes you to flinch and agree to his request. He brings the bottle up to your lips and you look at him as you take sips. To his surprise, you don’t hesitate to drink down the bitter herbal medicine and finish it in one go. The concoction seems to take immediate effect and you sigh from having temporary relief.

You look back at the man who's holding you up. The tears on your cheeks have dried and you notice he’s still looking at you. There is no emotion on his face yet somehow you can tell he’s concerned and watching out for anything that might happen.

“Blade…why…why do you care?”

There is a small smile on your weary face as you speak. You’re delirious, he notes, seeing how your eyes keep shutting close and how your body seems unable to support itself up. He doesn’t reply to you as usual and stares at you silently.

“I know you hate me…you don’t even like being around me, I know you hate meeting me, if it weren’t for Kafka you wouldn’t even look in my direction…”

You close your eyes and look down as you feel the tears starting to form and run down your face again. At this rate you weren’t sure what was hurting more, the gash on your back or the pain in your heart. You were spilling everything that had been on your mind since the beginning of it all when you first started falling for him. On a normal day, you would never speak your thoughts out like this but nothing about today was normal, was it? What you don’t notice is the tiny frown that has formed on Blade’s face as you speak. You draw a shaky breath as you continue.

“Why did you save me…? You should have left me alone…at least that way you would never see me again and that would make you happy I know-“

“I suggest you shut it.”

You look up as he cuts you off. There is a strange expression on his face consisting of annoyance and anger. He grits his teeth as he holds himself back from saying more. But you being you, you shake your head and continue, the tears now splattering on the blankets lying on the floor as your emotions come out in full force.

��Where are we? Is Kafka here...? I can let her know that she no longer needs to send you to meet me…I’m sure she will understand-“

“I said shut it.”

His voice drops down an octave and you feel fear creep up your spine. Afraid, you drop your head again but you can guess that his crimson eyes are probably aflame right now based on your previous observations. Do you listen? No.

“You don’t have to do this…if Kafka is making you do this you can go now it’s ok-“

“Have you always been this insufferable?!”

The sharpness in his voice and the tightening grip on your neck make you flinch in fear. He quickly lets go when he realises he’s hurting you and exhales. You remain staring at the ground, afraid to look up at his face. Unfortunately, before you can reply to him, the gash on your back starts to hurt again and you tremble, frowning as the pain sharpens.

“What’s wrong?”

There is a hint of panic in his voice as you squirm. Your knuckles turn white from the way you hold onto the blanket and your arms feel weak. Everything turns hazy again and nausea kicks in. A dull throb starts to pound in your head causing a groan to slip from your mouth.

“Y/N.”

He calls your name out as he gently lifts your chin. His frown deepens seeing the pain all over your face. Beads of cold sweat form on the side of your forehead and he notices you’re struggling to breathe again.

“It hurts Blade…it hurts…”

You say softly as your eyes blur again. The endless tears you have shed today in front of him shatter his heart. With each tear that streams down your face, he finds himself in agony, wishing it was him that was hurting instead, wishing that the pain you were dealing with were his to bear. But no, there is nothing he can do except watch you wither from your wounds. He reaches out to cup your face, slowly wiping the tears away with one hand while the other supports your shoulder. You shiver a little from the contact nevertheless welcome it. His touch is unfamiliar yet so soothing on your bare skin.

“Did the medicine wear off?”

You slowly nod yes and he sighs. Your injuries are severe after all, no wonder the concoction didn’t last long. It is a miracle that you are still breathing and conscious after such an event. He looks behind you at the faint glimmers of moonlight. Judging by the dimming rays, it should be dawn soon, he notes.

“Bear it for a little longer, Kafka will have a friend of yours escort you to a nearby infirmary soon.”

To his surprise, you shake your head and lean into the palm of his hand. He freezes momentarily but doesn’t push you away.

“I..remain with me..a little longer..please..?”

Your voice is shaky and barely audible as you make your request. Your puffy eyes flutter close preventing you from seeing how his expression softens a bit and the small smile that forms on his face. He gently pushes you towards him, causing you to lean into his body. You don’t deny the silent invitation and rest your head in the crook of his neck, a tiny smile forming on your face as you inhale his sweet metallic scent. His heartbeat is irregular and louder than usual from how your breath tickles his neck but you are too lightheaded to notice. His hand now rests at the base of your head while the other one lies loosely on your waist, gently caressing you in an attempt to ease your pain. You still squirm and twitch every now and then but it does not bother him, for right now all he cares about making you feel as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t hate you.”

He mutters under his breath. You’re barely conscious so he can say whatever he wants right? Not that you will really remember any of this.

“Hate…is not a word I would use on you.”

He glances at you. Your back rises and falls slowly from your breathing. He takes a look at your injured back once again and clenches his jaw. The bandages he had wrapped around you were starting to become bloody again.

“You perplex me. Yet your outlandish behaviour is so amusing. I cannot stay away from you.”

The fingers around your waist tighten as his grip becomes more firm. You shudder a bit at his action but say nothing. Not that you are in your right mind anyway, everything he says feels like a fever dream, a faraway voice talking to you.

“I prefer having you around. Your company delights me.”

He continues on as he strokes the back of your neck and you hum in content. You fit so perfectly against the palm of his hands and the crook of his neck, almost as if you were meant to be his. Meant to be his companion.

“You asked why I care…I care because I want you around.”

He leans into your head making sure to avoid the bruise on your forehead. Your hair tickles his face and the faint scent of your shampoo pleasantly occupies his senses. You’ve managed to fall asleep now from the low rumbling of his voice and the warmth his body radiates. A quiet chuckle leaves his lips as he realises this and the unyielding grip he has on you doubles.

“If you were to get hurt again…”

He murmurs inaudibly as he gazes in the distance. No, he would never allow you to be hurt again. He wouldn’t let such an opportunity arise in the first place. And if some lowly fool even dared to lay their hands on you…they would be a dead man walking. Once you got better and your wounds healed completely, he would make sure to protect you from any harm to the best of his abilities. But for now…

He looks at you again, his eyes burning with concern and a tinge of malevolence. No one could take you away from him. When the time was right and he was certain, he would make you his. For now, you resting contently in his arms, breathing softly in the safety of his protection should suffice. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[ashdreams2023]

Hiii, could I request a severus snape and little sister reader where she's the opposite of him and so all the students love her until someone insults him one day and she's all snarky and a miniature version of snape and everyone's like ".....maybe they are alike....." while severus looks on like a proud parent??? I love your fics so much!! Thankss!!

The same tree

Severus snape x professor sister reader 

The student body was in shambles the day you were announced as a new staff member, the name snape was enough to send shivers down some students backs.

They barely handled one snape, let alone two!

Everyone expected the worst, 2.0 snape female version then you got to your first class, it wasn’t like anything they had in mind.

Heck you gave house points and they paid attention to the lessons.

"She’s human, oh my god she’s not evil!"

It spread pretty quickly how nice and patient you were, you didn’t show any favoritism towards anyone nor did you encourage any rivalry in your class, as long as they passed it was a win for you.

Your office hours were filled with students coming to you for help, some even asking for help of topics other than what you teach, sometimes asking about stories of your youth but none dared to ask about your brother.

But there were times were kids can get way too comfortable in matters that have no business with them, unfortunately for a certain fourth year Ravenclaw he learned his lesson the hard way.

"I can’t believe that git took points because I added a point to his lesson! It’s fucking ridiculous, he’s a selfish idiot who only wants his way and everyone else is wrong"

"Jesus calm down mate, it’s only ten points you’ll live and he’s like the professor so…"

The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes "I know the book, I read it piece to piece I know my way around this stuff, he’s just one bitter old son of a bitch-"

"Excuse me you little bird" the boy froze as he felt a hand touching his shoulder, he looked up to meet your piercing dark eyes, they had the dangerously familiar feeling to those of their potion master.

"Professor i-"

"No no no…go on, continue what you were about to say so the oh so great Ravenclaw knows everything, because what? Because you read an outdated, basic, dusty ass potion book"

The boy swallowed, your tone was so different, you weren’t smiling and it reminded him of being schooled by severus snape himself.

"Why so quiet? Snake got your tongue?" You smiled proudly at the look of terror on the boy’s face "Let this be a lesson to you little bird, my brother is no idiot and without him little airheads and know it alls would be dead by now, so know your place, am I understood?" You tightened your grip on his shoulder.

"Yes ma’m!"

"And 30 points from Ravenclaw for showing disrespect to faculty staff members"

The boy’s jaw dropped but didn’t dear argue back and sprinted away with his friends, you couldn’t care less that students were watching, they call all spread rumors or whatever.

"Oh my god…she is like him…"

"Shush she’s gonna hear you! At least now we know not to overstep it"

You sighed and left the great hall, you pumped into your brother by the end of the day, he arched an eyebrow at you when you causally sat down and sipped your tea.

"I see you’ve made quite the impression today"

You shrugged "They’re just stupid kids, it was about time they learn anyways"

Severus leaned back on his armchair "You sound awfully familiar to me, I suppose I am rubbing off on you"

"The apples may look different but they all belong to the same tree" you smirked.

"You’re still terrible at potions though" He remarked knowing well how atrocious you were at his best interest.

"Hey! I was defending your honor"

You glared at him and he glared back then after a few seconds of intense looks you two snorted at each other and went back to having your regular sitting for the day.

Thank you for your kind words and glad you do 🥰

[nickistuffs]

Design Choices

Hi, I’m back with some inspiration! As a designer in product development, this photo really resonates with me.

Pairing: Harry x Designer Reader (curvy or plus size—whatever you feel works best! This is just my preference 😌)

Summary: Harry invites you to a Pleasing meeting.

Word Count: 874

Warnings: None. Just fluff 💗

Please enjoy! I’m just doing this for fun.

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there ...

Today, Harry had a meeting for his cosmetics brand, Pleasing. While getting ready, he saw his girlfriend sitting at her desk, working on designs and 3D renders for various brands vying for her talent.

He’d always wanted to add Y/N to his team of designers or do a small collaboration. However, being the shy and offline person she is, Y/N mostly kept her work to her portfolio and artworks online, with little to no social media presence. She’d told him before that she didn’t want to be seen as the girl who got work because of her boyfriend—something Harry found ridiculous since he would’ve gladly welcomed her on the team if she’d asked.

After slipping on his socks, he tiptoed to her workspace, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and placed soft kisses on her head. Briefly, he watched her work on what appeared to be a floor plan for a coffee shop. An idea crossed his mind, one he hoped she’d be open to.

“Hey, baby. Are you busy today?”

“Uhmm, not really. I’m just finishing my files, and my meeting got moved to tomorrow. Why?” she replied while continuing to type up details and notes for her contractors.

“Well, if you’re done with that, would you like to join me in a meeting today?”

She quickly saved her file and closed her laptop, looking at Harry with curiosity.

“For… your next album?”

“No, silly! For Pleasing. We’re finalizing some packaging boxes and stickers for a new nail polish release this New Year.”

“Oh! Right, sorry. My mind’s been all over the place.”

“No worries, love. So, do you want to come?”

“Sure, but can you pack my stuff for me? I’ll just go change.”

“Go ahead. I’ll take care of it for you.”

Harry rummaged through her work bag, filled with her essentials: a pen case, notebooks, journals, sample swatches, three different types of measuring tools, and other knick-knacks she might need for meetings or site visits. Knowing her, inspiration—or a design mishap—could strike at any moment. He added her laptop and earphones to the bag just as she walked back into the room.

“Ready! Do you have my bag, babe?”

“Yup, everything’s secured. I’ll just put on my shoes, and we can go.” ...

As Harry drove them to Pleasing’s unofficial office, he broke the silence.

“Babe, thank you for coming with me today. I thought you’d say no and stay home.”

“Well, I know I’ve said I didn’t want to be part of the product development team, but I still want to support you. If going to this meeting means so much to you, I’ll gladly hop in when I’m free.”

At a red light, Harry grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. ...

When they arrived at the small office, Harry and Y/N were greeted warmly and offered coffee, pastries, and nuts. She placed her bag on the floor and settled onto the couch, her eyes immediately drawn to the sparkly, hot-pressed foils on the PR boxes inside a nearby cardboard box.

“You can touch them if you like,” said Harry’s head designer.

“Thank you. Harry, may I?”

“I know you’re dying to feel it, love. Don’t let me stop you.”

Harry smiled at her excitement as she examined the new products Pleasing had created. He silently observed her body language, sweating a little as he hoped nothing was out of place—knowing how detail-oriented she was.

“These are so nice. The feel is great. Do you have options where the box is fully foiled or mixed with matte finishes for texture variety?”

A sigh of relief escaped Harry’s lips as he saw her getting into her element.

“Yeah, we have all of that here,” the head designer replied. “Here are the inserts, the bottles, and other packaging we’ve printed, along with the initial samples, if you want to try them.”

They laid everything out on the table. Y/N immediately locked eyes with Harry.

“These are amazing! The supplier you got is really good. You have to tell me who they are!”

Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“It’s a secret, love. I can’t reveal that to the competition. I might even ask the team to whip up an NDA before you leave.”

The three of them laughed at Harry’s joke, but soon the meeting shifted into a more serious tone. Work began in earnest, with Harry choosing his preferred designs, giving feedback, and discussing limitations and options with the team.

Meanwhile, Y/N started snapping photos of Harry looking serious, as well as top-down shots of the table and the stickers he was pointing to.

**“What do you think, love?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, I was distracted. Can you say that again, babe?”

“I asked if we should add another color to the collection, or if this is enough?”

“Well, is it in your budget? I thought you already finalized a color story. Adding another might confuse the supplier if it’s a last-minute change. I’d recommend saving it for your next release or an expansion of the range, maybe with a different collaborator.”

Harry nodded, impressed by her quick, thoughtful response. He felt a surge of pride, knowing he was in a relationship with someone as brilliant and passionate as she was. ... Thank you so much for reading! I have more in store and might write again soon. See you! 💗

[jishyucks]

My Boss Followed Me Home for Christmas — pjs

‣ pairing: CEO!park jay x reader

‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, traces of hurt/comfort

‣ wc: 4.0k

‣ summary: Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.

‣ warnings: none I don’t think?, implications that Jay doesn’t have the best family (they’re just realllly busy, nothing too bad), reader has a big family, implied that reader is smaller/shorter than Jay

‣ an: 3rd in the True Love Gave to Me Series! I honestly enjoyed writing this so much (hence why it’s way longer than I wanted it to be),, the filipino rly jumped out in this with the big family and the games I’m sorry (>///<) it’s honestly just what I’m more familiar with so it was easier for me to write! Anyways,, ENJOY THIS AND THANKS FOR READING!!

Series Masterlist

It was weird seeing the office so empty. 

You weren’t constantly dodging bodies on the way to your desk, you’re not overstimulated by the sounds of the printers and the ringing phones, and the place did not seem as suffocating as you usually make it out to be. 

But it was only empty because it was Christmas. There was absolutely no one here and you were only here to pick up your work agenda, which made complete sense why the office was so much more appealing. 

You wished it was usually like this. 

Your phone rings the second you reach your desk. When you go to check who was calling you, you find your mother’s contact photo blown up on your screen and you answer it almost right away. 

“Hey mom.”

“Honey, where are you? Are you on the way?” You can hear voices in the background at the other end of the line and you’re guessing your family just arrived at the party.

“I am,” you say, “I just dropped by the office to pick something up. I’m guessing I’ll be there in around fifteen to twenty minutes?” You lean against your desk. You realize your agenda is not sitting on your desk so you figured it was somewhere inside it. 

“Okay, hon,” your mom acknowledges your reply, “Take care on the way here, the roads are slippery.” She says something to someone next to her, and before you can even reply she hangs up. 

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and pull your desk cabinet open, immediately finding your agenda on top of everything. You mutter a 'there it is' before you push the cabinet back shut, turning to leave. 

It’s before you leave that you notice the light on at the end of the long hallway to the left of your desk. It was a hallway rather hidden from the main office, so you hadn’t taken notice of it at first, but now that you did take notice, curiosity had gotten the best of you. 

Because who in the world was here on Christmas? 

You’d take a good guess and say it was a caretaker, but you didn’t think any of the caretakers were even paid well enough to be here on a major holiday. So if it wasn’t a caretaker, who was it?

You quietly make your way down the hallway, passing empty offices along the way. Then once you’ve just about reached the seemingly occupied room, you halt and use your neck to peek around the corner. 

A gasp almost audibly leaves your lips when your eyes catch sight of your boss sitting alone at his desk. His brows are furrowed as he stares up at his screen, eyes looking rather intently at whatever he was working on. You can tell that he didn’t expect anyone to catch him at the office, dressed in a simple designer hoodie. 

You hate how one of the first thoughts that enter your mind is how attractive the man looks just sitting there and typing. But you were human, after all. 

“Sir?” 

Jay jumps at your voice, swearing under his breath, “Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, he makes brief eye contact with you before he avoids it altogether. 

“I was just,” you hold up your agenda, “Picking this up… what are you doing here, sir? Don’t you have any plans for Christmas?” Sure your reply seemed a bit inconsiderate because in the back of your mind you knew not everyone celebrated Christmas or the holidays… but your boss had a mini Christmas tree sitting at the corner of his desk, so you figured he did celebrate the season in some way. 

Jay’s still slightly taken aback, frozen in his seat as he studies the random lines on his computer, “I… don’t.” You watch the way his lips flicker into a frown for a quick second before he plasters a fake smile, “But it’s okay! I have a lot of work to do anyway for Wednesday! Better to catch up befo—”

“Sir, I know I don’t really have a right to say this, but you should take the day off and relax,” you frown. 

Jay is unsure how to reply. He sits in his seat for a few brief moments and his mouth bobs open and closed like a fish. Cause, frankly, how can he reply to that when he wants to do anything but go home to an empty house? Why did it have to be you who had to catch him?

If it were anyone else, they would have left him alone. 

If it were anyone else, it would have been easier to send them off with some dismissive reply he can muster up in his head.

“I don’t really want to go home,” Jay says quietly. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And because you do, you catch the way his lips remain downturned. He just thinks you can’t see it behind the miniature Christmas tree.

You feel a tickling feeling in your chest and without thinking, you ask, “Do you want to come to my family’s Christmas party tonight?” It’s funny because you don’t regret your question (well, just a bit, but that’s beside the point). In fact, a small part of you was actually glad that your mouth had decided to choke the question out before you could hold yourself back. 

Jay gulps. He wasn’t against it, but wouldn’t it be odd for him to come? 

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

You take a step forward so that you can now clearly see him. His eyes were running over the keys of his keyboard over and over, trying to keep himself from looking at you. “You won’t be a bother. My family’s pretty big so there’s a lot of space.”

“It’s really okay, Y/N, I’m fine spending time here.” 

“Sir, I promise you, it’s fine,” you press, “My other family members bring guests all the time and we don’t care.” You take another step forward and now it was harder for Jay to avoid your gaze. 

He’s forced to look up at you and that was his mistake. Jay feels his chest explode with warmth because he now just realized that you were dressed more casually than he was used to. You were wearing a pair of baggy jeans and underneath your long coat, he could see Rudolph printed on your ugly Christmas sweater. He admits to himself that you looked adorable, but to remain professional he keeps that thought at the back of his head. 

“If… if you insist,” Jay replies slowly, unsure whether or not he should turn his computer off 

Your eyes light up, “Well, I’m going there right now. You can follow me to my house.” 

“Right now?” Jay’s hesitant to move, hand frozen on his mouse, “As in right this second?”

The answer was yes. Right that second. 

The next thing Jay knew, he was following you up the stairs of your front porch and he was not even sure how to act. He was a CEO for God’s sake. Why was he nervous about joining you for a Christmas party when he’s always up at the front of a business room speaking? It wasn’t like he was meeting your family as your boyfriend or anything (and it for sure wasn’t because he wanted to make a good impression on your family…). 

“Where are my damn keys…” You’re standing at your front door, wrist-deep and rummaging through your small bag. Jay awkwardly stands behind you, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid. 

Before you can even find your keys, the door swings open to reveal a short older woman with a kind smile. Her eyes light up at the sight of you and when she exclaims “Honey! Finally!” Jay immediately figures that the woman is your mom.

“Come in, come in,” she quickly says, “It’s cold out there. Oh! And you must be…?” Your mom leans over to look at Jay who’s unsure whether he should actually move. 

You speak up for him, “Um, mom, this is my bos—”

“I’m Jay,” he interrupts, “I’m–uh–Y/N’s coworker and friend.” 

“His family is–uh–busy for Christmas so I invited him,” you quickly add, “I hope that’s okay with you, mom.” 

You look back at him with a questioning look but he quickly dismisses it, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” 

“It’s no problem, the more the merrier! And oh, just call me Auntie! There’s really no need for those kinds of formalities,” your mom laughs. Then she looks over at you with a smirk ghosting her lips but she stops herself, “Everyone’s just waiting to eat.” 

You let your mom walk ahead and you stay back, “Sir, what—”

“Y/N, we’re not at work,” Jay points out. And hearing you call him sir was sort of irritating him right now, “It’s… Just call me Jay… besides you invited me into your home right?” Then he repeats what your mom said just moments ago, “No need for those kinds of formalities.”  

You can’t help but laugh, side-eyeing him, “Fine, if you say so, Jay.” 

You lead Jay into the house, and he’s greeted by your family members sprawled out all over the living room and kitchen. When you said your family was big, you weren’t kidding. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this situation. 

When Jay turns the corner, trailing you closely, he’s met with a room full of people, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters like you were. A few of your older relatives were sitting at the dining table chatting about something seemingly interesting. At one corner of the nearby living room, right by the Christmas tree, were kids shaking presents, trying to take good guesses as to what they were receiving this year. And huddled on the couches was a group of young adults around your age—he’d guess they were your cousins—and they were having their own conversation, too. 

And though Jay should be feeling out of place because not only does he not know anyone but you, he wasn’t wearing an ugly Christmas sweater like everyone else was, he simply doesn’t. 

The atmosphere felt welcoming—that was his first impression. And he couldn't have been happier when you started introducing him to everyone, making him genuinely feel welcome.

Your aunts and uncles gazed at him with large eyes, curious about who this boy was despite you clearly introducing him as your friend. And when you brought him to meet your cousins last, you were surprised that Jay easily clicked with your guy cousins. It was like you were seeing a whole different side of your boss, one that proved that he was your age and not the uptight CEO you face at work.

“The dress code for this year was ugly Christmas sweaters,” you say once you both settled with your cousins, “But I’m guessing you already noticed.” Jay sits cross-legged in the empty spot next to you.

Jay nods, “Your family all seem so nice.” 

“I’m glad you think that,” you grin, “I take pride in that, if I’m being honest.” Then you realize that the topic of family might be a bit too sensitive for Jay and you try to change it, “Anyways, after dinner, we play games. You better join.” 

“I’ll try?” Jay questions. You can tell he’s growing more comfortable with the situation, but he’s still trying to keep himself composed. 

“Trying is better than nothing,” you shrug, “But I promise you you’ll have a lot of fun.”

There’s a brief silence between the two of you and Jay has this sudden urge to thank you. Because, well, it made sense in this situation. He could wait ‘till the end, but he was itching to just shower you in thank yous.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“This took me a while to find deep in your dad’s things but I finally found it!” Your mom comes out of nowhere, arms slipping between the two of you to reveal an ugly sweater, “I know your dad had another from years ago!”

“I’m confused,” you say.

“For Jay!” Your mom holds the sweater out for Jay to take, a bright smile stretched across her face. She jokes, “Don’t want you sticking out like a sore thumb in pictures. Why are you wearing black on Christmas, hm?” 

You almost facepalm, seeing your mom treat Jay like he was your boyfriend. Sure, it was great she was trying to make Jay feel even more included, but the gesture seemed so… odd to be doing it with just a friend of yours. You’re hoping that Jay isn’t getting the wrong idea because, frankly, it would be embarrassing if he did.

“Oh… t-thank you auntie…” Jay gulps and you see his eyes flicker toward you. He wonders if you think it was weird for him to take it. But he didn’t want to say no to your mom, not when she went out of her way to find the sweater, “I’ll put it on right now.”

“You better,” your mom jokes one more time before leaving you both and back to your other relatives. 

You watch as Jay goes to take his hoodie off, revealing a white t-shirt. At first glance, you don’t process what’s printed on his shirt, but when he fumbles with the sweater, you realize that it’s an old Christmas shirt from when he was a kid. The text reads Christmas 2010 and the picture is a picture of him and his parents. You figured that the shirt was probably his dad's.

You smile sadly, eyeing the shirt as he throws on the sweater. You don’t notice, but the corners of Jay’s lips lift upward into a small, subtle smile. He looks up at you, “How does it look?”

“It looks good,” you say, “A little bit big, but it’s fine.” You can see the way the sleeves bunch up at Jay’s wrists. He looked rather adorable in the sweater (and again, you don’t say anything).

The games began soon after it was established that everyone was finished digesting their food. 

One of your older cousins, who had planned the games, started the games with the kids first. You secretly knew it was just a tactic to get them tired for later, hoping that they’d settle while the adults and older kids played their own games.

Then when that was done and over with, she moved on to the first game that you and Jay could participate in—the island game. The premise of the game was to step onto a sheet of gift wrapping paper and, along with a partner, fold and manipulate it so that they both could stand on it without touching the floor. 

“We need six groups of two!” 

Two by two, you watch your cousins as they group together, stepping up to get the secret prize sitting in a gift bag. 

“You two should join!” your mom urges, “What fun is it just watching? Jay, you must be clever right? Go try!”

Afraid to say no to your mom, Jay turns to you, “I’ll do it if you do it… you said it’d be fun, right?”

You hesitate for a quick moment. Yes, the games were fun, but you were talking about the relays or the simple, single-player games. You weren’t sure if you wanted to play with Jay, simply because it involved having to get all up close and personal with your partner. 

You look around and notice that a handful of your family members are waiting for you and Jay to join, and that pressure is something you can’t take. You nod and plaster a smile on your face, “Right! Let’s go!” 

Nervously you walk to an empty sheet sitting flat on the ground and Jay follows you, standing at your side as your cousin runs over the rules. You wait for Jay to realize the mistake he’s made by suggesting to play, but instead of a look of worry, he’s smiling. He looked rather excited, a hint of determination ghosting his face. 

Before you both know it, the game begins. The first round was the easiest—you both had simply stood within the two-feet by two-feet sheet of paper. But as each round passes, the area that you and Jay can stand on gets smaller and smaller. And as the area shrinks, so does the space between you two.

You’re so close to him that you can smell his perfume and you can feel his breath against your forehead. Your heart betrays you because you can feel it pounding against your chest. You only hope that Jay doesn’t hear or feel it. 

You look down at the folded sheet of paper. It was less than half of its original size and something is telling you that the next round was going to be difficult. 

Your cousin cues for the next round to begin and you and Jay get off the paper to fold it. He mumbles, “I don’t think we can both stand on this. Or both our feet at least.” 

“We can each balance on one foot,” you suggested. You test out the size and place your foot on it. There was barely enough room for two feet.

When Jay notices this he shakes his head, “I don’t think that would work… we’d just fall over. I think I’ll have to carry you.” His suggestion makes you look up and you find him staring back, “You can get on my back?”

“Can you balance on one foot with me on your back?” you question. It’s suddenly getting hot in the room. Was it your sweater? You hope so. You don’t want to dwindle on the thought any longer. 

He nods, “I think I can.” 

“O-Okay,” you say quietly. You glance at the other teams and see that your cousins are on the brink of tears trying not to laugh because if they laughed, they’d lose balance with the ridiculous poses they’re somehow pulling. 

Jay kneels down, one knee touching the ground before he gestures for you to get on. And you do, though you get on carefully because you’re still not processing the situation. Once you hop on his back, Jay gently guides your legs around his torso and he pulls your upper body closer to his back with a tug on your sleeve. When you are secured on his back, he easily stands up. 

Now you’re afraid that he can feel the way your heart’s beating against his back. There was absolutely no way he couldn’t. 

“It’s easier for me if you’re like this,” he says to you. You nod even though you’re right behind him, “Stay as still as you can.” 

Jay steps onto the folded piece of paper, waiting for your cousin to tell the teams that it is time to hold positions. Once she had given the signal, Jay raised his left leg in the slightest, balancing on just his right foot. 

Almost immediately, your cousins fail to keep themselves from touching the ground and, somehow, you and Jay are the only ones left standing. You don't process it until it is announced.

“Congratulations to Y/N and Jay for being the first adult winners of the night!” Your cousin cheers. You notice that she has tears in her eyes from laughing as she approaches you both with the prize. A bunch of the older adults are clapping in amusement, heads shaking from the entertainment. 

You quickly jump off of Jay’s back, and out of habit, you grab his hand, shaking it out of joy. You repeat a ‘we won’ a couple of times and Jay couldn’t help but beam at the string of events, watching as you receive the present for the both of you.

Jay has never in his life played party games at a family party. Sure his family was too busy to even have parties like this, but even if they did have the time to plan out a party, his family was too small for these games to even be considered fun. 

And if he were being honest, this party was the most fun he’s had in so long. 

“What is it?” Jay leans in close to you, trying to catch sight of whatever’s in the bag. You both have settled on the couch while the next game begins. 

You pull the prize out to reveal two big bags of your favourite expensive holiday chocolate and your eyes gleam at the sight. You drop one bag and then hand the other to Jay, “Here you go. That was fun!”

Jay nods, a smile settling upon his lips. “It really was.” The adrenaline from the game is beginning to vanish and he’s coming down from his high. “Let’s play the next one?”

When it was getting late, Jay decided that it was time to leave. It wasn’t like he was leaving to escape from the party, because truly, he had spent so much time on games and picture-taking that his energy was beginning to diminish. He’d love to stay, but he knows that tomorrow, he’ll have to be back at the office doing work. 

He wonders how this night will change the way you guys are in office. Surely, he’ll keep his professionalism at work, but he can’t just pass by you tomorrow and act like you didn’t willingly invite him into your home to spend Christmas with your family. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!” You say at the doorway, “I hope you had fun.” Jay is silent for a few long moments and you can’t help but call out to him, “Sir?”

“S-sorry, I just started getting you used to calling me by name that it threw me off,” he replies sheepishly. 

“Oh… um, I’ll call you whatever you’d like.” 

“When we’re out of the office, just call me Jay okay?” Jay shuffled forward and he’s closer to you now, “It’s more fitting, don’t you think?” 

You nod and you huff out a large puff of air that shows up in front of you, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jay.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jay echoes. There's a lingering feeling in the cool air that engulfs the both of you. You couldn't quite put a name to it, but it was a nice feeling. It was warm. Then, before you know it, Jay finds himself giving you a hug. And not one of those half-assed side hugs, but one that you could easily tell he needed.

You hesitate at first, but then you slowly return the gesture.

After what felt like a while, he stepped back, “S-sorry I... I'm just really thankful for tonight. Tell your family thank you, too.” There’s so much more that Jay wants to say, but for now, this will simply suffice. 

“It’s nothing,” you say, still slightly stunned, “I expect to see you next year, then.” 

One corner of Jay’s lips jerks up and he laughs, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

When Jay leaves, you turn back to rejoin your family, who’s looking at you expectedly. 

“What?”

“Did you guys kiss?” One of your cousins joke.

You brows furrow and you burst out laughing, “Ha! No way!” What the hell was this guy even talking about? You and Jay kissing? He was your boss for god’s sake. Isn’t that like… forbidden or something? 

You try to change the topic because the thought was mind-boggling and you didn’t want them to catch the way your cheeks and your ears were heating up at the thought. “He says thank you,” You say and move to sit next to them, “And I told him he should come next Christmas.”

Your mom betrays you, “As your boyfriend?” Of course she would say that. 

Another laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

(Or so you think.)

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: ughhhhhh I really love this pair (ಡ᎔ಡ) it would be soso cute to see more of them but I can'tttt I need to write the other ones,, pls leave comments cause I love hearing your thoughts!,, n e ways I hope you enjoyed this! Renjun is up next, so please look forward to his!

[angelikook]

Download Error | Act Two

⤿ Pairing(s): Scientist!Jungkook x reader

⤿ Genre: Fluff, angst, suggestive, dark, thriller, sci-fi, medical, yandere-ish behavior

⤿ Word Count: 6.1k (unedited)

⤿ Warning(s): Jungkook is unhinged, major character death, minor character death, cannibalism, murder, drug abuse, and a whole lot of other disturbing things

⤿ Summary: After 50 years of research, Jungkook, an 80 years old scientist, figures out how to upload minds and download them to a new body. This technology is so early in development, failing means potentially creating a monster, and failure is common. But when he’s backed into a wall where he’s about to lose Y/n -his wife- due to a disease, he takes some drastic measures. He’ll do anything for love even if it means creating a monster with the face of 25 years old Y/n.

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Part 11: The Error

So many things happened all at once. The initial transfer process ran smoothly without issues, but the minute the computer had to download Y/n's mind to her new body, they ran into an error. And since then, the machines had been beeping non-stop. The computers all flashed a message error. And Jinho can only yell Jungkook’s name while doing what he could think of at the moment.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Prof.” Jinho was busy typing furiously at the computer. "This didn't happen during your transfer."

Jungkook rushed to where Jinho was and shoved him off his seat. "Fucking move. I'll do it myself, you incompetent bastard." Jungkook read over the message on the monitor and clicked whatever buttons he could reach with his mouse.

"I've fixed the program, there's literally no fucking reason for it to run an error," Jungkook vented while still focusing on the error messages. He closed all the messages with the hope that it could finally resolve whatever problem the machine had. His heart sank and eyes focused, he broke a cold sweat, but couldn't bother with it.

After a while of constant clicking, the beeping stopped. The room fell silent.

"This has to work," Jungkook silently whispered to himself. "It has to."

Part 12: The Forgiveness

Jungkook's browser tab opened overwhelmingly many different search tabs all with similar prompts at once. How to get your girlfriend to forgive you? How to apologize to your girlfriend? Does 'take a break' mean we're over? Can I get back with my ex if I still love her? How can I get back with my ex?

Each time his eyes scanned over the word 'ex', his heart wrenched in ways he never felt before. Surely he'd heard it wrong when Y/n said she wanted to take a break. They were supposed to be star-crossed lovers, nothing could get in between them, but of course their egos got in the way.

Jungkook frustratingly slammed his desk with his fist. None of the advice he read from the internet could actually help him. He only had himself.

He stood from his chair which creaked in response to him and walked out his dimly lit room. He had one objective, he had to go to the store.

The entire trip nor the shopping didn't take too long. Afterall, he already had everything planned out in his mind.

"Is that all?" the cashier asked. His eyes never once met Jungkook's.

"Yes."

"That'll be 150 Dollars."

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrow. "That's so expensive!"

The cashier only shrugged, still unimpressed by Jungkook. "Do you want your girlfriend to forgive you or not?"

"Ugh, fine." Jungkook handed him his cash and walked out the store with the stuff he bought.

But what happened after he reached Y/n's door was completely unplanned.

Upon opening the door, Y/n scoffed. It might be brief, but Jungkook's heart ached at the sight of her. Next thing he knew, she was about to close the door on his face hadn't he held the door with his hand.

"Wait, I have something prepared for you. I promise I can make it up to you," Jungkook pleaded.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Like what?"

As abrupt as his presence on her doorstep, he leaned in and kissed Y/n's plump lips. The taste of Y/n's strawberry lip balm overwhelmed his taste buds. The same flavor even after years of dating her. The same overwhelming feeling and adrenaline rush.

Y/n didn't push him away or slap him in the face, she melted into the kiss instead, which kind of surprised him. So he took it as a signal to deepen the kiss.

He dropped the paperbag holding the stuff he bought from the store and took Y/n in a warm embrace. His tongue explored her mouth, trying to feel every corner of her mouth all at once.

After what felt like milliseconds, Jungkook pulled back from the kiss to catch a breath which Y/n did the same. As they stared at each other, both trying to fill their lungs with as much air as possible before devouring one another, they broke into a laugh.

"So, that's what you mean by 'prepared'?" Y/n linked her arms around Jungkook's neck.

Jungkook shook his head lightly. "Not really. I bought things you might like." Jungkook looped his arms around Y/n's waist. "Look, I'm sorry for letting my ego get in the way. I know you're capable, but I just don't want you to get too tired. Sometimes you have to have fun, you know?"

Y/n nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, too. I guess I was too tired that night."

"Let's go have fun, then," Jungkook suggested as Y/n already pulled them both back into her house.

Part 13: The Resurrection

The ticking clock felt deafening in Jungkook's ears. The hitch of Jinho's breath didn't help. Even the rhythmic thump of his heart felt too loud. It felt like he was being suffocated by the minutes he spent focusing on his surroundings. So instead, Jungkook walked closer upon Y/n's new synthetic body.

"Jinho, how long until she wakes up?" he asked, eyes not leaving her.

"Yours didn't take long, only-"

"How long, Jinho," he pressed, not having enough patience to deal with Jinho's technical speeches.

"Seconds, Prof."

Jungkook caressed Y/n's new face. The same face that he could only see from their wedding photos. The face that he had missed so much. It wasn't hard to admit that he would want their wedding to be immortalized in the form of his lover's face.

He traced Y/n's cheekbones, then her jaws. His fingers grazed ever so slightly on her soft artificial skin. Flawless and beautiful just like how he liked it.

"She should be up by now, right?" Jungkook finally asked as his hand brushed Y/n's hair and tucked it behind her ears.

"Some things can probably-"

"Shut up, Jinho!" Jungkook whisper-yelled as the body in front of him started to wake up.

Y/n's new body opened her eyes wide like she herself was surprised she could wake up in the new body, and unfocused mimicking the lifeless eyes of AI robots. While it was kind of true that Y/n's body was similar to that of an AI, but she wasn't powered with electricity. She was a robot with a human mind.

Y/n's chest then started to go up and down, a small feature Jungkook added to make her seem more human than robot. If one would look close enough, one could even see the nostrils moving slightly, faking breathing.

Jungkook dared himself to call her. "Y/n? Can you hear me?"

And then, everything happened all at once.

Upon hearing his voice, Y/n turned her head sharply to the source of his voice. Then quicker than what Jungkook could process, Y/n leaped from the bed and jumped down on him, ultimately knocking both of them down to the floor. And like a starve-crazed animal, Y/n took a bite of Jungkook's arm that was blocking his face from Y/n's view.

Just as he was about to push Y/n off himself, Jinho came to the rescue and pulled her off of him. Jinho pushed Y/n aside and helped Jungkook up.

"Prof, are you okay?"

"I don't-" Jungkook's speech was interrupted by Y/n clinging on Jinho's body and biting off his ear. Blood poured from the side of his face instantly.

"Y/n! Stop it!" Jungkook manhandled Y/n and tackled her to the ground. He then proceeded by sitting on her back. "Jinho, help me lock her in the storage room. Get the keys now!"

Just as Jungkook saw Jinho running to grab the keys, one hand holding the bleeding ear, Jungkook pulled Y/n up from the ground while holding her hands behind her back. Even in that position, Y/n growled loudly and tried to turn back and face him.

Once Jinho came with the keys, both of them pushed and forced Y/n into the storage room before finally locking the door. Angry growls and loud banging on the door could be heard, but at least they were safe for a while.

With Jinho seemingly already woozy and having trouble walking straight from the loss of blood, Jungkook said, "Let's go to the hospital."

Part 14: The Proposal

Jungkook's hand had fallen asleep long ago, but he didn’t dare to ruin the moment. He glanced at Y/n which leaned her head on his arm, eyes focused on the movie in front of them, hands holding the hot chocolate he had made for her.

This was one of the extremely rare instances where Y/n could have a weekend off and not have to be on standby on her phone. And of course Jungkook was hell-bent on making sure they spend it alone inside the confines of his penthouse.

It seemed like Y/n had realized the gaze Jungkook had on her. Y/n turned her head around and faced him. A small smile appeared on her lips.

“What is it?” she asked, her face visibly showing she was puzzled by Jungkook’s boyish grin that he threw at her.

“I have a surprise.” Jungkook fished out a ring from his shirt’s pocket.

Y/n abruptly stood up, the movie playing in the background had been long forgotten. “No way,” she said as she cupped her hands on her mouth, eyes started to visibly brimming with tears. “Why? When? How?”

“One by one, babe.”

“When did you buy it?” Y/n asked as Jungkook went to put on the ring on her finger.

“Just after apologizing to you at that time.”

Y/n extended her hand and admired the sparkle on the diamond beneath the dim light of the room. “Why did you think it was the right time?”

“Cause I know you’re the one. Especially after what we did that night.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answers he gave, Y/n pulled him up from his seat and engulfed him in a tight hug. “I thought this day would never come,” Y/n cried into his shirt.

Jungkook only pulled her head to lean on his chest closer. “How come?”

“I was being too harsh on you during the fight. I thought you’d hate me for it because what you said was partially right. I know we don’t have that much time together,” she rambled as Jungkook only swayed both their bodies side to side in slow motion.

“You don’t need to think about that eanymore. We’ve made up, right?”

Y/n nodded while still burying her face on Jungkook's chest.

Jungkook hummed in response, but abruptly stopped his swaying when he realized something. "Wait, babe."

Y/n pulled away. Her face was puzzled as she looked up at him, eyes still red and slightly puffy. "What?"

"I haven't proposed to you properly." Jungkook let go of her and crouched on one knee. "Do you want to marry me?"

Part 15: The Hospital

If it weren't for his assistant, the smell of disinfectant and cleaners would have made him leave the hospital sooner. The injuries Jinho bore required him to get an immediate blood transfusion and an emergency surgery to close up the wound caused by the bitten earlobe. 

"Are you sure he was bitten by a dog?" the doctor asked him after announcing that the short surgery had finished.

"Absolutely. It was a wild dog," Jungkook answered as lies seeped through his lips easily.

"Well, it was a big dog, I presume. From the size of the bite, I think it's almost as big as a human."

"You think so?"

The doctor nodded. "I'm worried that the dog might have rabies, so I also gave Mr. Su an anti rabies."

"Do what you have to do, doc." At this point, Jungkook just kept replying to him just to make this talking process faster.

Unlucky for him, the doctor caught a glimpse of his bitten arm that he had wrapped with a gauze he found in his car.

"You got bitten yourself?" the doctor asked, head nodding towards his arm.

"It's fine. Just a small scratch," he lied, he needed to divert the conversation back to his assistant. "Jinho, though, he got bitten. Bad."

The doctor coughed awkwardly. "Right. The surgery was successful. We just did some stitches and it was all done. Unfortunately, for the time being, there's nothing we can do about the missing ear. We can talk more about creating a prosthetic ear for Mr. Su later when he feels better. For now, he will be transferred to his room and in less than an hour he should be up."

Now it was Jungkook's turn to ask the right questions. "When can we go home, then?"

"Once he wakes up and feels okay, you can start to arrange the payments and his discharge."

Jungkook smiled ironically. "Sure."

The doctor left and the wait began. During the first hour, Jungkook saw Jinho being strolled in his bed into his VIP room. Jungkook himself demanded for the VIP room because of the things he wanted to do to Jinho once he woke up. While the room wasn't as big as what Y/n used to have, it was still spacious enough for Jungkook to sit far from his assistant where he could reorder his thoughts.

While Jungkook was adamant that his methods were right and he didn't bypass any process, Y/n somehow acted like she couldn't register her surroundings well. Like she wasn't conscious, which was obviously laughable because he was sure everything was under control. There was no reason, absolutely no reason for the transfer to fail. No way. Only stupid people would fail and he wasn't stupid.

And then, Jinho began to stir awake from the anesthesia. Jungkook quickly rushed to his side and called the doctor.

"Feeling okay?" Jungkook asked.

Jinho nodded but then grimaced.

"I see," Jungkook said as the doctor came into the room.

"Mr. Su. I'm going to do some checks on you. And if you're alright, you can go home anytime you're ready."

The doctor, along with a nurse, checked up on Jinho just like what Jinho himself did to Jungkook a couple of weeks ago. Crazy how in the span of a few weeks a lot had happened.

"Well, Mr. Su, everything looks good. Should you have any complaints, just call me, okay? Just like I said, you can go home anytime."

Jinho let out a weak, "Sure. Thanks," as a response.

Just as the doctor and the nurse left, it was finally Jungkook's turn.

"Jinho, sorry for what happened to you," Jungkook apologized, even Jungkook himself was surprised he could say sorry genuinely.

"It's fine. The cost of science."

"Right. Science." Silence filled the room before he spoke up again. "What do you think happened?"

Jinho wet his lips with his tongue. "I can't really be sure, but my best bet is that we're left with another case similar to the cat."

If the room were quieter, Jungkook probably could hear his heart dropping. It was one to hear your wife dead and another to hear your wife turned into a cannibalistic zombie.

"Is there a way to reverse it? Or fix it?" At this point, he had almost exhausted all of his options except one. One that he couldn't bring himself to say or even to think of.

But Jinho dared himself. "You need to kill her."

Like it was undebatable, Jungkook snapped, “Absolutely not. Are you out of your mind?”

Jinho took a ragged breath. "I'm sorry, Prof, but she can be a danger even to you."

"No." No one could make him change his mind. He wasn't going to kill his wife again for the second time. "There should be a way out."

"I wish, Prof. But I don't think we can do anything about it."

"Stop saying nonsense! There is a way, we just need to figure it out. You're not behaving like a very good assistant now." If it weren't for the gauze around Jinho's head, Jungkook probably would have hit something with his bare hands. "I'm leaving."

Jungkook walked out of the damned hospital feeling like he should've left earlier.

With every kilometer closer to the lab, Jungkook's thoughts slowly poisoned with doubt. He wondered what if Jinho was right, what if the only right way out is to kill her.

He shuddered at the thought. His heart raced and head hurt. On one hand, he loved Y/n too much to kill her, but on the other side, he knew well that his Y/n was no longer there. Just like the cat.

Just like a game of tug of war, his mind is torn between the two choices, whether to live forever with what's left of Y/n or to live forever with the figment of his imagination of Y/n.

Once he arrived on his lab's driveway and parked his car, Jungkook reached out his trembling hand out towards the glove box. He opened the box and took out his other prized possession, his pistol.

Safe and armed, but still as scared and anxious as before, Jungkook jumped out of the car and walked into his lab.

Jungkook went straight to the storage room door and listened attentively to any sound from inside. But his ear caught nothing besides the sound of the ticking clock on the wall.

He opened the door while whispering more towards himself, “Y/n, I love you. I’m sorry for what I’m about to do.”

As expected, once the sliver of light entered the room, Y/n growled and leaped at the door. And when she noticed Jungkook’s presence, she turned her attention towards him. She came at him and almost jumped him if it wasn’t for the loud bang that rendered her scrawled on the floor.

Y/n began to let out a cry that sounded more like a howl in Jungkook’s ears. If he were honest, her cries always hurt him more than her. But he knew this wasn’t the time to ponder. He had made up his mind and he had to finish what he had started.

Before Y/n could gain leverage to stand up and attack him again, Jungkook mustered all his courage and shot her straight in her heart. Not once or twice, but three times to make sure she wouldn’t suddenly wake up again.

And true enough, not long after, he could see a pool of artificial blood surrounding where Y/n body was laying down and his tears began to fall.

Part 16: The Wedding

It felt unreal. Like he was in a movie show and both Y/n and him were the main characters.

All eyes were on them as the officiant said, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!"

As practiced over and over, Jungkook reached for Y/n and kissed her lips passionately. He intended to make the kiss short and sweet, but when he tasted Y/n's strawberry lip balm and smelled her favorite aquatic perfume, he couldn't take it anymore.

He devoured her as if his life depended on it. He wanted to taste her, feel her, be one with her. He could never get enough of her. And when Y/n reciprocated his kiss, she deepened the kiss, Jungkook was in heaven.

He could only be brought back to the moment when the officiant cleared his throat, seemingly trying to remind him where he was.

Reluctantly, Jungkook let go of Y/n's which looked flustered with red cheeks and plump lips. 'Beautiful,' he thought to himself.

As the wedding ceremony progressed to a wedding party, Jungkook grew impatient. He wanted to get done with the party and taste his wife fully. If he could have his way, he wouldn't have held a party at all. But of course his wife got in the way and vetoed his idea. So the party happened.

White gowns, pink flowers, and everyone she ever knew in her life was invited. Even though he was against it, Jungkook really went out his way to make sure that Y/n had the perfect party she had always dreamed of. Jungkook even pulled some strings just to have all her cousins and elementary school friends come and celebrate their special day. As Jungkook looked at Y/n who mingled with her old friends with a wide grin on her face, he knew he made the right choice of hosting the party.

Y/n was just seen waving off some of their guests before walking towards him with a big smile on her face. Her eyes looked a bit drowsy after hours of talking with her guests but still glistening with excitement. Jungkook could've sworn he had never seen her this happy before.

"It was Seyeon. Do you remember her?" Y/n asked.

Jungkook laughed, remembering how he used to dislike her for clinging to Y/n all the time. "And the guy coming with her?"

Y/n came closer to him and whispered in his ear, "That's her second husband."

Jungkook's eyes widened. He never would have thought a quiet girl like Seyeon would get married multiple times.

"And where is her first husband?"

Y/n shrugged. "I didn't dare ask her. It sounds like a sensitive topic. So let's just be happy for her second marriage, yeah?"

"Sure," Jungkook answered just to make the process faster since their families were already waiting outside the ballroom.

Jungkook looped his arm around his wife's waist and they both walked out the ballroom where the limo that would take them to the airport was waiting.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see every single family member and friends waving and smiling at them. Some even got the chance to bid them farewell like Y/n's mom who kissed Y/n's cheek right before she got into the car.

"I'll keep in touch, I promise," Jungkook heard Y/n tell her mom.

When the door closed behind them, they both smiled wide at each other while holding hands, eyes meeting one another as if they're trying to remember each other's faces. And then, it was finally time to go.

Part 17: The Realization

"Oh, no. No no no. It can't be." Jungkook kneeled beside Y/n's new yet lifeless body.

He shook, pinched, and even slapped her, trying to wake her up, but of course nothing could wake her up ever again. He had totally lost her forever.

"No way. No," Jungkook cried. He buried his face on Y/n's stomach, not even once caring about the artificial blood that started to stain his clothes. "Y/n, I'm so sorry."

Jungkook could only bear so much in his 80 years of living in the world. He had lost his son too early due to overdosing, failed to upload his mind when he was still alive. He had witnessed it first hand when Y/n's doctor read her diagnosis. He had to accompany Y/n through every single chemos until the point where her body was too weak to leave the hospital altogether. He simply couldn't bear the loss of his dear wife. It was too much even for a man like Jungkook.

Jungkook didn't know how long he had stayed beside Y/n. He didn't even care about his growling stomach or his drying eyes. He could even swear that he had fallen asleep for quite some time. For all he knew, he came back to the lab when the sky was already black and now he could see a sliver of light coming through from the small slits on the wall.

Even though his body was man made, his bones cracked and his joints popped when he stood up from his slouched position on the floor. Jungkook stretched his body, popping more joints, as he stared at what he had done the night before.

Y/n was still pretty much in her previous position, but her arms had moved since Jungkook hugged her the night before. Now her arms were just contorting in an awkward position beside her torso. 

Jungkook cringed at the sight. "I need to get rid of the body," Jungkook said to himself.

He grabbed a shovel from the rack inside the storage room, walked out towards the lab's small backyard, and began digging on the damp soil. Once he deemed that the hole was big enough, he dragged Y/n's old body and new body one by one and dropped them into the hole. All the while, his heart ached and his tears threatened to fall again.

No longer being able to hold back his tears, Jungkook cried while he buried both bodies. Drop of tears fell to the newly piled soil, as if sealing the burial site of his lover.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I failed at being a good husband and a scientist. I failed you," was the last words he said before he plucked a random flower in the garden and placed it gently on top of Y/n's final resting place.

Done with what he had to do, Jungkook went back inside the lab, brought his important stuff with him, and locked the door. He was finally ready to go home, or rather penthouse, as his home had left him for good.

Part 18: The Diagnosis

The beeping sound that usually annoyed him this time didn’t faze him at all. He was busy calming down his dear wife that was laying down on the hospital bed.

“Babe, I’m scared. What if I only have a few months left?” Y/n gripped his hand tight as if he could disappear if she let go for a split second.

Jungkook himself was also worried about that. He, too, didn’t want to be left alone by his wife. But he was just scared to voice it. He didn’t want to actually jinx it, or worse, made Y/n even more scared than she already was.

In a totally Jungkook-style, he replied, "I've almost finished with my technology. Everything will be okay. We'll be fine." All the while, his wrinkled hand softly caressed Y/n's.

As if on cue, the doctor came into the room while holding a clipboard to his chest. His hair was unruly, Jungkook reckoned he might have shuffled his hair in frustration. That couldn't be a good sign, Jungkook knew that and his mind was already running on the worst possible scenarios.

"How is it, doctor?" Jungkook asked.

"Mrs. Jeon is tested positive for Cervical Cancer."

Jungkook's defenses collapsed as he shouted, "No! There must be something wrong. Y/n is fine. She should be."

His ears were ringing, Y/n was sobbing beside him, and the doctor was looking at both of them sympathetically. The world must be pulling a prank on him. If not, the world must be truly evil for letting this happen to him.

Part 19: The Laboratory

Jungkook couldn't remember where he had kept the keys nor could he remember the name of the road of which his damned laboratory was built upon. And frankly, if it wasn't for motherfucking Jinho who insisted he check on the lab, he didn't care.

After the disaster upon disaster that happened to him, Jungkook wanted nothing to do with his failed project and his late wife. He enjoyed life as if he got a second chance to redo his life. And practically, he did get a second chance.

He clubbed, he got wasted, he tried whatever drugs he could get his hands on, he got high, he did one night stands. He did everything he could to forget his past. He partially succeeded, especially when he was so intoxicated out of his mind, until one morning when Jinho came to his penthouse.

It was just another day where he clubbed until 4 am. He was still peacefully snoring when the intercom beeped, signalling that the security was trying to reach him.

Jungkook stretched his body and moaned loudly, all with eyes shut. The room he was in, the guest room, was reeking of sweat and alcohol. His head pounded and throat was desert dry. The intercom beeped again.

He opened his eyes and took in the situation he was in. Beside him, a woman whose name he didn't care to know was sleeping soundly. Low snores could be heard every time she exhaled. Her unruly hair sprawled across the bed and covered parts of her face.

'Good,' Jungkook thought to himself as he pushed himself up from the bed. He didn't want to see the woman's face just yet. The intercom beeped again.

Huffing, Jungkook walked towards the intercom. "What is it?" he croaked.

"Good morning, is this Professor Jeon?" The familiar voice of the security could be heard from the intercom.

"I'm his grandson. What is it? Make it quick."

"Someone wishes to meet Professor Jeon."

"Who?"

"He said his name is Su Jinho."

Upon hearing his former assistant's name, Jungkook groaned. "Let him up."

Not wanting to suffer the dry throat and headache any longer, Jungkook swallowed some Tylenol and threw himself onto his couch in the living room. He had one more problem that was still laying on his bed, but his energy had already drained.

Lucky for him, not long after he slumped on his couch, the problem walked out the guest room. She only wore a bra and underwear. Her hair didn't look any better than it did sprawled on the bed. And her makeup ran down her face, making her look like she just cried all night.

"Should we get breakfast?" the woman had the audacity to ask him that while rummaging through his fridge.

"No. Get the fuck off. I have a guest coming." Jungkook slowly got up from the couch and pushed the woman out of his kitchen.

The woman pouted at him. "But I haven't eaten anything! And my clothes are gone."

Jungkook shrugged. "Nor have I. And who cares where your clothes are."

Jungkook continued to push the woman closer to his penthouse door as the woman struggled against him.

"Why are you doing this?" the woman asked.

"Doing what?" Jungkook opened the door.

"Taking my innocence. I thought you love me."

Not impressed by her unfunny joke, Jungkook ironically laughed. "Haha, that's funny. I don't do love. It doesn't look good on me."

With a final push, Jungkook pushed the woman and locked the door. She began banging on the door, yelling something along the lines of she was naked and left her phone inside, but Jungkook had more problems to take care of.

"She'll get over it," Jungkook mumbled to himself as he closed the guest room, making a mental note to clean it up after Jinho left.

The doorbell rang, implying someone was waiting outside. Not wanting to accidentally meet the previous woman's wrath, Jungkook peeped through the peephole. Luckily, he was met with a familiar receding hairline of Jinho.

Promptly, Jungkook opened the door and said, “Why are you here?” to the man standing in front of him. His eyes couldn't help but train at the missing ear. Jinho probably never cared to get a prosthetic ear, either that or he wore it proudly as a battle scar.

Instead of answering his question, Jinho walked into his penthouse with another question, "Do you know that crying woman in the hallway?"

"Nope."

Jinho took a seat on the couch. "Do you know you're still in boxers?"

Jungkook slumped beside him. "So?"

"Prof, what happened?" This time, Jinho asked with a tone that Jungkook didn't like. Sympathy.

"Cut the bullshit. You know what happened."

"I know. But this is not you."

Jungkook inhaled deeply before lecturing his former assistant. "Jinho, stop reprimanding me. And stop saying clichés. I hate it. Just say what you're here for and leave."

"I just want to check up on you and the lab."

Jungkook let out a laugh. "The lab? Absolutely not. I'd rather you ask me to destroy it."

"No, prof. I want to check what went wrong."

"Why? It's been years. It's better if you get a prosthetic ear than redoing the experiment."

"I don't want to redo it, I just want to publish it."

Upon hearing what Jinho had said, Jungkook grew intrigued. If it were possible, his ears would probably have gone straighter. "Are you finally getting that Ph.D.?"

"That's why I need to publish an article."

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Jungkook said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jungkook stood up from the couch at the same time as Jinho said, "Well, are we going?"

"Yeah. But don't get anywhere near the grave."

As promised, once they arrived at the lab, Jinho went straight inside, leaving Jungkook just beside the grave.

The grave looked nightmarish given that Jungkook never bothered to take care of it after he buried Y/n. Weeds grow wildly around and on the grave, making the grave look less like a grave and more like a random bump of dirt.

“Hey, Y/n. Long time no see.”

Out of nowhere, Jungkook felt a sting in his eyes and his eyes watered. This was exactly the reason why he didn’t want to have anything to do with the lab anymore. He was partially fine without the lab and would be better off once he had fully forgotten it.

Jungkook sniffled. “I hope you’re doing well wherever you are, because I’m not.” Jungkook plucked a random pink flower he saw in the small garden and placed it on top of the grave. “Life is shit without you.”

Jungkook looked around his surroundings. Except for the weeds and moss, not much has changed. Things were visibly dusty, but nothing a broom or duster can’t fix. The small garden which was initially Y/n’s idea, now breeds wild ivy almost everywhere. Jungkook snorted at the sight. Both the garden and him weren’t so much different after all. They both came worse off without Y/n tending to them.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by staying gloomy, Jungkook stood up from his crouching position and followed Jinho inside.

Inside was not much different. Dust was everywhere, but Jinho managed to clean two stools and a desk in which he sat at one. Jungkook walked closer and sat on the other chair.

“What did you find?” he asked as Jinho shoved a notebook to his hand.

“Why are you giving me this?” Jungkook fumbled with the book. It was still dirty despite Jinho’s visible attempt to clean it. The leather cover was worn and scratched in places, the pages were turning yellow. Inside, Y/n’s familiar neat writings could be seen but just on the first page. Jungkook wondered why and what did Y/n write there but he kept it to himself. It was something he should figure out himself.

“It’s Y/n’s, I reckon. You might want to have it.”

“Thanks.” He closed the book and put it on the table. “Did you find anything else?”

“Yes.” The answer was short but brooding with something Jungkook couldn’t put his finger on.

“What is it?”

Without words, Jinho pointed to a text on the monitor. On it written in red with big bold font the word ‘ERROR’.

“If my calculations are correct, the transfer failed because of the error. And we didn’t notice that because we deliberately ignored the error signals.”

Part 20: The Notebook

Hello, Jungkook baby,

I’m not sure whether you’ll read this or not, but I still want to write to you something. I’m writing here moments after you visited me and showed me your new body. I can’t express how happy I am to see that your experiment finally came to fruition. There’s nothing better than seeing young Jungkook again before my death. That is if I really am going to die. If not, I will probably get rid of this book. So now that you’re reading this means that I’m no longer with you. But don’t worry, don’t be sad, nor be disappointed in yourself. I know you feel like a failure every time someone close to you passes away, but don’t feel the same when it’s my turn.

I know I won’t live forever and I intend to keep it that way even though your technology might have defied the laws of nature. Life has done some good things to me like letting me marry you, letting me have our son, and even seeing young Jungkook again. I’m so grateful that I have made many beautiful memories with you that I often replay here on the hospital bed when you’re not here with me. And I want you to do just the same.

Let go of all sadness and disappointment and just remember me in your daydreams. Live your unlimited life as best as possible for this is your second shot at life. And if you fall in love with another woman, be with her. Shower her with love the same way you did with me. Because, your second life is for you and her to enjoy, not mine.

Both our first lives had been spent with one another and I want to keep it that way. So, Jungkook baby, be well and live your life. I’ll always love you.

Yours always,

Y/n

[Taglist]

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[withering-bloom]

Shattered promises

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Hiiii :3 this is my first ever fanfic on here and I wanted to dedicate it to my lovely husband, Arlecchino. This was extremely rushed and I’m very sorry if it isn’t any good 😭😭

Arlecchino x female reader, implied cheating, angst, kinda proofread??? Arlecchino is the readers husband because I say so, slight cussing

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I stand there, unphased in the doorway, staring at her. At Arlecchino. My heart feels like it’s been ripped out and squeezed dry, and yet… there she is,sitting in front of me, her usual cold mask in place.

The room is quiet except for the faint ticking of the clock placed on the wall directly above the Mantel and the soft hum of the fire crackling within the room.My skin feels as if it was burning contrasted to the coldness of the blood flowing throughout my veins—but right now the air feels colder than I could of imagined.

“Arlecchino,” I say her name, but it feels foreign on my tongue. I don’t even know what I mean by it. There’s no warmth in my voice, no love. I’m too far gone for that now.

She doesn’t look at me right away. She’s too busy, too focused on whatever it is she’s doing, her eyes locked on the stack of papers on the desk in front of her. It’s always like this, isn’t it? Always work. Always something more important than me.

I try to breathe, but it feels like the air has thickened. I can’t catch my breath. I want to speak—to say something, anything—but I don’t know where to begin.

I hate how small I feel at this moment. How small I always feel when I’m around her as if I’m nothing but an accessory to her.

“I’ve been waiting for you, y/n,” she finally says, her voice low but edged with something I can’t quite place.She takes a moment to study my face as a frustrated sigh escapes the woman’s lips, “what's the matter with you now? Why are you upset.”

I shake my head, trying to steady myself. “You think I’m upset?” I laugh, bitterly, but the sound feels hollow in the empty space between us. “You really think this is about me?”

She doesn’t respond immediately. She just looks at me, her expression guarded. And it pisses me off. I don’t know why it should, but it does. She’s sitting there, so detached, like none of this matters to her. Like none of us matter.

“I saw the way you looked at her,” I continue, my voice quieter now, feeling a wave of regret washing over my body after those words left my mouth, but they feel sharper than anything I’ve ever said in a long time. I can feel the burn in my chest, the way my heart is splintering into jagged pieces. “I saw it, Arlecchino.”

Her gaze shifts, just a flicker of recognition crossing her face, but she quickly masks it. “It wasn’t like that,” she says, but even as she speaks, her X’d shaped pupils avoid mine. She looks towards the crackling fire instead, as though she can’t bear the weight of my confrontation.

“It wasn’t like that?” I echo, feeling the heaviness of each word. “Then why the hell does it feel like it was? Why does it feel like you’ve been lying to me? Why does it feel like everything we built together is just… nothing?” I lift my hand, showing the red gemmed ring towards her, “does this promise mean nothing to you?”

I move closer towards her desk, a desperate, reckless impulse taking hold of me. “You promised me, Arlecchino. You promised you wouldn’t leave me behind. You promised me that we were meant for eachother . And now I don’t even recognize the person in front of me.”

She takes a deep breath, her jaw clenched tight. For a second, I think she might say something—anything that will make this feel like it matters. But instead, she simply reaches for the stack of papers again, her hands cold, steady.

“I don’t need you to understand,” she says softly. Her voice is flat, distant. It hits me like a slap. “I never needed you to understand.Nor do I need you to pry into my business. She’s a colleague. There’s nothing going on so I suggest you drop this matter.”

My chest tightens at her words. “Stop fucking bullshitting me” I exclaim, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. “What kind of colleague holds your face like that? What kind of colleague looks at you the way she did? Because it sure as hell wasn’t just some professional exchange.”

I can feel the weight of every word as I speak them, like stones settling deep into the pit of my stomach. Her gaze doesn’t waver, but I can see the subtle flicker behind her eyes—annoyance, frustration, maybe even guilt—but she won’t let it show. Not fully.

“Drop it,” she demands, her voice now sharp, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve told you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

The air of the room only continues to thicken as my brows furrow together “Nothing to worry about?” I scoff bitterly, stepping forward in front of her chair, my fists clenching at my sides. “How am I supposed to believe that, Arlecchino? After everything? After all the times I’ve tried to stand by your side, tried to understand the world you live in, only for you to push me away like this?”

She doesn’t respond right away, but I can feel her tense up, her shoulders stiffening under the weight of my words. She knows what I’m saying. She knows exactly how much this is breaking me. But she won’t let herself care. Not like I do.

“I’m not one of your orphans, Arlecchino,” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly. “I’m not someone who can just be discarded when it’s convenient. I’m your wife. Your partner.” I take the time to analyse her body language, but she doesn’t turn around. “I deserve more than this cold distance.”

She still doesn’t look at me. But I can see the sharp inhale she takes, the way her fingers twitch against the papers on the desk as if she’s trying to control something inside her.

For a moment, everything goes still. The only sound is the fire crackling in the room, like it’s mocking the emptiness in the space between us.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, though the words feel like a lie coming from my lips. It’s like I’m trying to convince both of us that things can be fixed. That she can come back to me. But I’m not sure she ever will. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get my husband back. The woman that promised me the world.

The silence drags on, heavy and suffocating, settling in like a weight I can’t escape. Arlecchino doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even glance in my direction. It’s like I’m not even here, like I never mattered. I don’t know how much longer I can keep fighting for us when she’s already turned her back on me, both in every unspoken word and every cold, calculated gesture. It feels like I’m suffocating in the absence of her—like she’s already gone, and I’m just too blind to see it.

And so, like a fool,I stand there, more alone than I’ve ever felt, my chest tight with the effort of holding back the tears that threaten to spill. I try to keep up the façade, forcing myself to believe I’m not as weak as she’s made me feel. She’s shaped me into this—this woman who relies on her, who gave up everything to be the mother, the wife. I don’t know how I became this version of myself, but I can’t stop it now.

As my eyes pierce into her, I begin to believe for the first time, I wonder if we’re already too far gone.

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THIS WAS SO SHITTY. IM SO SORRY I HATE WRITING ANGST BUT I LOST A BET AND I HAD TO WRITE THIS. But please send requests and I’ll be sure to write a different fluff fanfic soon!!!

[grapejuice32]

Bored?

masterlist here JJ Maybank x reader

notes: I'll try and catch up on updates and requests soon!

The two of you were at party, a mass text had been sent out about it and there was no way either of you would pass up on free alcohol. The two of you were a fairly new thing, JJ had never really dated anyone before and was just used to hook ups, and while you'd dated before, you'd never been official with anyone like you were with JJ. It was the first party the two of you were attending as a couple, and honestly, JJ was thrilled, he couldn't wait to show you off to everyone. He'd decided that the two of you could just go together and meet the rest of the pogues there, so that's what you'd done, he had picked you up on his bike, smelling like expensive cologne you were certain he has stolen at some point.

When you arrived, you were met with pounding music, the party was being held at some girl's house, you weren't entirely sure who she was but you weren't sure you or what was at least, a couple hundred other people, cared who was throwing the party, just that it was a Friday night and that there was alcohol. It'd taken JJ a few minutes to locate the others, stopping to get drinks for the both of you first, you made sure to stick relativelyclose by, not wanting to get lost in the sea of people, though you were sure JJ would find you in seconds in the case you did get lost among the sweaty bodies.

Not long after you got there, some girl, whose make up was down up as if she were attending the met gala, approached JJ, the two of you having momentarily moved away from the others for whatever reason, when you went to get a drink. She was quick to start flirting, placing her hand on his bicep when he payed her no attention, he had only pushed her off of him and ignored her advances. He had wanted for your return, not wanting to walk off and leave you stranded, when you had returned he'd placed a hand on your waist, his other holding a red solo cup of beer, and placed a kiss on your head. The blonde girl, who was obviously bitter about his rejection, glared at you, a sour look on her face. John B called JJ over and you just told JJ to go, that you'd be there in a minute, his pressed a short kiss to your lips and walked over to the others.

The girl's blue eyes travelled up and down your body, clearly judging everything about your body, your outfit and your style. When her eyes met your own, you offered her what was clearly a smile of faux kindness, she only scowled and stepped closer to you, " So, you're her."

"Her?" You asked innocently, tilting your head and raising your brows.

She scoffed, "You know what I mean," she took another step closer to you, her eyes making quick work of travelling over your figure again, "the girl who finally tied him down, it's never going to last. I mean," she moved her hand in a circular gesture in front of your face, "look at you. I mean, you're...nice looking, some might say, but none of that matters, you seem soft, too soft, he'll get bored."

"Oh really?" You quipped, sipping from your drink, "I mean, it's not really any of your business, is it?"

She laughed fakely, "Cute, his bitch has a bite to her. Do you seriously think you can keep his attention for that long? I mean, look at him," the both of you briefly looked over to JJ who was stood next to Pope, his head thrown back as he laughed, the vest he was wearing showing more than it concealed, "he'll get bored, mark my words."

A sigh left your lips and you ran your tongue over your teeth, "You wanna see bored?"

"What?" She frowned, clearly under the impression her words would have cause you to back down by now, "Is that a challenge or something?"

"Yes," your lips curled upwards, "yes it is."

"Alright," she composed herself, "go on. Show me how not bored his is with you."

You downed your drink and threw the red plastic cup at her feet, a smirk growing on your face as you walked over to JJ. You placed a hand on the sliver of his bare torso that was on display through the large cut-off sleeves of his vest. His attention was immediately on you, he threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side, kissing the top off your head and then pulling back to take a sip of his beer. The weight of his toned arm over your shoulder was a reminder that he was yours, but you weren't one to back down from a challenge.

You took some steps back, JJ following after you, the two of you now in the dark corner of the room, separated from the others who were closer to the main gathering of sweaty people dancing and grinding on each other. JJ's back was pressed against the wall, both his arms thrown over your shoulders, one of his hands still holding a mostly empty cup of warm beer. "What's up, mama? Hm?"

"Wanna make you feel good, J." You murmured, looking up at his face, his features highlighted by the blue lights in the room. On of your hands remained on the bare skin of his torso, the other grabbing onto the belt loop of his shorts.

He chuckled, tilting his head down so your foreheads were nearly touching, strands of his hair curling in front of his eyes. "Oh yeah, right here in front of all these people." The corner of his lips quirked up, he glanced over your shoulder, clearly cocking the blonde girl who had her eyes on the two of you, her jaw clenched, "You tryn'a prove a point, huh baby?" He asked as if he didn't already know the answer, bent his neck to press a kiss to your exposed shoulder, "Is someone jealous, hm?"

"Yes, want everyone here to know that you're mine just as much as I'm yours." You too him honestly, tugging at his belt loop, pulling his hips closer to you.

Another chuckle left his lips and he pulled back from your shoulder to lean his forehead against your own, "Go on then, prove your point."

Your hand instantly left his belt loop, making quick work to unbutton his shorts and slip your hand under the waistband of his boxers, your fingers wrapping around his already hardened length.You slowly pumped you hand the way you knew he liked, a low groan left his lips and he threw his head back. Your eyes were locked on the way his adams apple bobbed when he swallowed a moan, you pushed forwards and began to suck at his neck, desperate to leave your mark while you continued to mike your hand back and forth.

"Fuck," he gasped, his hips bucking slightly to meet the movements of your hand.

A pleased grin was on your lips as your lips detached from his neck, a prominent mark already developing. JJ's lips were parted as pants that bordered on the line of moans escaped him "What, you close already? You like knowing that someone could see?" You asked, knowing all too well that he liked it.

He looked back down at you, a light layer of sweat present on his forehead, "Fuck, you're so hot, mama." He all but moaned before capturing your lips with his own, pulling away all too soon to bury his face in you neck as a moan left his lips, his body stiffening as he finished in your hand. You smiled in satisfaction, slipping your hand out of his trousers, JJ pulled back from you and watched as you brought your hand to your mouth, cleaning off your fingers. He shook his head, as you dropped your hand from your mouth, and pressed his lips back to yours, kissing you as though he had been deprived of the feeling of your lips against his.

You faintly head the sound of him dropping his cup, his arms moving off of your shoulders so that he could grip your hips, pulling you in closer, your chest pressed against him. He broke from your lips, trailing kisses along your jaw to nip at your earlobe, "You're so good t'me, " he mumbled, "are you satisfied now? Hm?"

"Yo, J!" John B yelled over at the two of you in amusement, "Get a room, man."

The two of you pulled apart, laughing in slight embarrassment, "C'mon," JJ nodded over in the direction of the group and stepped away from you, swinging an arm back over your shoulder and leading the both of you back in the direction of the others.

When the two of you go there, you were met with various looks of disgust and amusement, "That was nasty, I hope you know that," Sarah commented, her nose turned up, Pope nodding in agreement.

You excused yourself to go and get drinks for yourself and JJ, you brushed passed the blonde girl who was stood there with a hateful look on her face, but you could only smile smugly, leaning in, your mouth near her ear, "How's that for bored?"

Please lmk what you guys think, I'd love to hear from you! I'll also be happy to try and write any requests you may have <3