#this was just the first scene that came out

[chronicallyonlinewriter]

SPOILERS:

Look, I get it. But I think context is everything, here.

Joel didn't stumble upon Ellie kissing a girl. He came home and found Ellie in her bedroom, door closed, partially undressed with a nineteen-year-old woman (when Ellie was only seventeen), the room full of weed smoke, with a home-done tattoo scratched all over her arm. Anyone that would have expected him to just say, "Huh," and glaze over that isn't really trying to look at the scene from the perspective of a very surprised and confused father, lol.

I think if Joel had discovered Ellie just like, kissing a girl that was closer to her age (and yes, Cat is only two years older, but when you're that young to start with, that's still quite a gap) that scene might have gone a little...smoother. But that's not what happened.

Does it excuse the casual homophobia? No. But I can also hardly blame the guy for being, in general, upset. He lashed out, and he lashed out about the wrong thing in the process, because he's a flawed human being.

My parents were born around the same time Joel was, and I was raised in a conservative and rural community - and yet, trust me when I say that Joel handled that situation a hell of a lot better than my parents did, when they first found out I wasn't straight.

In the end, Joel's love for Ellie still won out, even if it took him a while to get to a more accepting place about it.

Pedro Pascal for Flaunt Magazine

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Thinking about this scene again, because do y'all understand??

This scene is one-of-a-kind.

This scene will never happen again.

And we could never, I mean never, get a scene like this in the games.

Because what do you mean Sonic and Shadow sat quietly together and genuinely talked about their trauma?

There was none of the banter that the game versions typically share. None of the pettiness or trying to outdo one another. None of the preconceived notions of each other's personalities that barred their potential friendship.

This scene, and those that followed, was what made the movie dynamic between these two my favorite, tied only with Sonic Prime.

This scene is quiet, tranquil, surprisingly so; considering only moments before this they were fighting to the death and Sonic nearly beat Shadow to death with his bare hands, and Shadow had wanted him to do it.

This scene is haunted with grief. But it's also brimming with raw, honest emotion. Seeing that kind of mood in a scene with just these two is absolutely amazing.

However talkative our little Sonic Wachowski can be, it was Shadow who broke the silence here. Sonic was understandably shaken by his own behavior, but still. He told Shadow the one simple thing, the reason he hadn't killed him when he easily could've: "There are no winners with revenge." And then he fell silent.

The way they sat silently, each lost in their own memories and grief, either staring at the ground or the stars.

Shadow broke the silence. It had provided the opportunity for open, honest communication. He was already his own mess, having seen what Sonic was going through. He'd initially used it to justify his own behavior, saying that Sonic had no right to fault him for dealing with his pain the way he was, since Sonic was making the same choices. Except in the end, when it really mattered, Sonic did make the right choice. He set the example on accident.

Completely isolated from anything that could possibly interrupt them, in literal space, Shadow finally had the freedom to share his trauma with someone who understood. Someone who'd lost his own loved one, and was in the position of possibly losing another. Shadow didn't ask for answers at first. He simply shared the memory of sitting with Maria under the stars, like they were in the present. He expressed his side in a way that no longer tried to justify it. He just said it as it was.

"I've felt this pain for so long... it's all I know."

Sonic didn't immediately try to correct him. He didn't even say that there was a better way, in that moment. Instead, he empathized with him. He understood. He validated him, without justifying all the violent things Shadow had done.

"When I lost Longclaw, I felt the same way."

And with that, Shadow had it in stone that Sonic had been through the same thing. So he asked a simple, quiet, invisibly desperate question.

"Did your pain eventually go away?"

They still weren't looking at each other. They were sharing some of the deepest, most painful parts of themselves with one another. The words were vulnerable enough, to the point eye contact would've been too much. But the words were the most important part.

Sonic barely hesitated when he replied, "No." He wasn't going to pretend or lie. There was no reason to, no point, and all the walls he'd previously had up were torn down by the day's events. But he did have something to share. It had been likely around 12-13 years since Longclaw died, and even though Sonic had been so young when it happened, he had taken something away from it all. To the present day, he had continued to honor her memory by trying to make her proud in how he lived.

He expressed that in the beginning of the second movie. He timidly asked Tom if she'd be proud early in this same movie. It had never stopped being important to him.

Because he'd loved her. And that was the lesson he shared with Shadow, pulled straight from his own painful experiences. It wasn't even a "live the way she would've wanted" type of encouragement. It was "you loved her and she loved you. So focus on that. Hold onto that memory." He didn't give false reassurances by saying the pain would eventually fade, because he knew firsthand that it wouldn't. He simply gave him a different focus.

And Shadow listened. He took it silently, and just as he was processing the new perspective with a kind of wonder in his eyes, the sun rose.

This kind of honest, deep-seated conversation could've only happened in this universe, simply because Game!Sonic doesn't have a confirmed backstory and isn't really allowed to open up like that. This is where the lack of mandates on the SCU makes for beautiful opportunities like this.

This wasn't an exchange between rivals. This was a heart-to-heart between two young boys with similar trauma. Something that connected them and became the foundation for their friendship.

The idea of rivalry is barely addressed in this movie, and I love it. Whatever banter they share as they fight alongside each other later is all friendly and lighthearted, paired with smiles and excitement.

Shadow confessed that he'd felt like he had no choice in the things he'd done, but he phrased it in a way that made it clear that he knew now he'd been wrong.

Even so, Sonic— in classic fashion— extended an open hand to him and told him the simple, profound truth: "You always have a choice."

Better yet, even though they still had a mess to clean, neither of them would be facing it alone. And with their friendship finally established, they were able to move forward.

Again. This scene was perfect. The honesty, raw emotion, open communication, and shared past between these two, as opposed to their strained dynamic in other universes, will always stand out to me, and among many reasons will always be a reason I love these movies so deeply.

don't tag as ship or i'll sell your elbows to the dark web

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝… || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ flashbacks of Ellie’s birthdays and the party you and Joel did for her once, when the truth of Salt Lake City came out and you separated from Joel for months and when you two decided to make up.

warnings_ age gap (late 20s/joel’s canon age), wife!mom!reader, angst, fluff, fallacy references, canon divergence, mediocre almost SMUT mdni, implied unprotected sex, switch!joel, blue pill alert, no proofreading

Notes_ half of me was so horny for Joel and the other half crying because he’s dead

「 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫: 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 」

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 Pedro

✰ Index (+ fics here)

୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ───୨ৎ

A tiny pair of hands started to poke at Ellie’s face.

“Cerise, be careful,” you said as the toddler started giggling and babbling.

Joel had greeted her just ten minutes ago, and Ellie was still half asleep, closing her eyes and opening them again. Until she felt you and Cerise.

It was her birthday.

“What are you doing, furball?” Ellie asked, finally looking at a little Cerise who offered her a toothy smile as she threw herself on top of the teenager.

“She comes to tell you something,” you say, brushing Ellie’s hair. “Go on, Cerise…”

The toddler got shy, but with your encouragement, she started humming.

Cerise tried to sing Happy Birthday to Ellie. Not a single word was correctly pronounced, but Cerise sounded adorable, then you helped her a little with the song, and Ellie started chuckling.

“That was a remarkable performance, Cerise. Thank you,” Ellie tried to sound serious and shake the toddler’s hand, but she started cackling after Cerise started biting her cheek. “She’s biting me!”

“Cerise! That’s rude!” You yell at your daughter, trying to pull her away. Ellie starts squirming and laughing really loudly, and the sole scene was a funny sight to miss.

“Girls! Stop it!” you finally say, grabbing Cerise and pulling her into your arms. She has a malicious grin that made you realize she was being playful.

“Get dressed and come downstairs, please,” you tell Ellie, then you lean and bum your head against her. “Happy birthday, Ellie.”

She watched you and Cerise go with a big smile, feeling the love of having a family.

…

After making breakfast for your family, Joel presented the cake he had made for Ellie. It was simple, tasted just fine, and the girl loved it. They were leaving after all. Joel had planned a day out with her, marking the safest places where they could go and spend the day. Something about Ellie’s dream of going to space. You were okay with it, as long as they returned safely and before sunset.

Your player was on, ‘How Soon Is Now?’ was playing, and Cerise was playing with some baby blocks on the carpet of the living room.

The house looks alive. The warm light of the sun peeking through every window reminds you how lucky you are.

Soon you hear Cerise babbling, and you’re about to go to get her, but you hear Joel and Ellie. They were back…

“What’s all of this, Cerise?” Ellie asks from afar, and you smirk to yourself.

You grab the cake you baked yourself and make your way to the living room.

“Surprise!” The girl looks around with Cerise in her arms, and her eyes snap open, a big smile plastering on her face as he walks closer to see the cake.

It was rectangular, with white frosting decorating it, with blueberries and candles scattered.

“This is beautiful, y/n,” Ellie says, blowing out the candles for the first time.

Joel goes straight to hug you from behind and kiss your cheek, making you smile wider.

“Go for your friends. Tommy and Maria are already on their way…” You say to the girl. She nods, giving you a short hug, then adds she’s taking Cerise with her.

“Be careful with my baby!” Joel yells at the girl.

“Well, now let’s find a place for this cake,” you say.

“Now you are making me feel embarrassed of my cake, sugar” Joel interrupts, giving your ass a little quiet spank, making you jump startled. “Makes me feel a little like an asshole”

“Aww, don’t be too rough on yourself, baby,” you say, patting his cheek and earning an awestruck look from your husband. “Yours was great, tasted great, and made my breakfast great.”

His cheeks burn a little, you notice and think it’s adorable how an old ass like him could act so sweet and cute.

“And you decorated all by yourself?” Joel points out to the rest of the kitchen, living room, and backyard. All covered with handmade confetti and very few balloons, but all floating perfectly. A big happy birthday sign and space-themed posters.

“Well, Cerise helped me a little,” Joel returns from the kitchen after leaving the cake aside. He sees you moving some balloons around and appreciates your outfit: a black top, a skirt with boots, and a fitted cardigan that matched. Joel knew it was silly, but he loved the way you looked. The cleavage of the top was modest but evident and suited you very well.

“Looking hot and pretty, mama,” he says, making your cheeks burn as you meet his cheeky grin.

“You also look hot and pretty, cutie.”

“Really? And what are you gonna do about it?” He asks with defiance.

“I’m gonna sit on your face if you don’t shut up, Joel,” he starts cackling, then grabs your forearm and makes you collide with his chest.

“Is that a threat or a promise? Because I’m kinda craving a taste of your cunt” rolling your eyes, you smack his chest, with a smile.

“Need to keep your dick wet?”

“Always,” Joel answered proudly, making you chuckle.

“I’m estimating we have ten to fifteen minutes before Ellie arrives with the rest of the party,” you say, looking at the clock, only to then feel Joel lifting you and placing you on the kitchen counter.

“Just enough for me…” and then, he gives you the sloppiest and haziest kiss of your life. As well as the sloppiest and haziest fuck of your life.

“Think I’m in the mood for one of those blue pills…” Joel whispers in your ear as you start feeling his fingers going back and forth across your wet lips. You couldn’t recall the moment he lifted your skirt and dipped his hand under.

“Maybe tomorrow, handsome,” you say between moans. “Maria and Tommy are taking Cerise for a playdate with Benji”

Some months ago, Joel decided to try the blue pills for the first time. He didn’t need them, but it wasn’t a secret he couldn’t keep up as before. When you two were childless and living in the QZ of Boston, he could last at least two rounds.

And despite you objecting that he didn’t need to prove anything, Joel wanted to try them either way.

And who were you to deny him?

…

It was getting colder. Another birthday of Ellie and her cake was burnt by accident. You were about to close the kitchen window, but your hands were covered in dish soap. A second later, you heard Ellie cursing as she arrived home.

“Ellie, are you okay?” You ask, dropping the dishes into the sink and hurrying to get to the girl.

“I can’t fucking do this right now, y/n!” She yells, and you grow even more worried.

“What happened?” She turns halfway up the stairs and huffs.

“Your asshole husband! He lied to us all this time.” Your frown grows, and Ellie rolls her eyes. “He killed every goddamn person inside the Salt Lake City hospital”

Your heart beats rapidly, and your hands start feeling numb.

“I didn’t know…” You can only say, hearing Joel opening and then closing the door.

“Yeah? Well, I’m getting the remaining stuff I have here and then I’m the fuck out” Ellie yells exasperated, her face red out of anger.

“Ellie…” You try to stop her, worriedly.

“This is why I did well by living in the garage…” she says, going upstairs and disappearing.

You turn to look at Joel, and he sighs.

“Is it true? Did you kill them?” You ask nervously.

“I should’ve told ya…I know,” he sounds wounded, but you feel betrayed.

“You should have told me, Joel?” you ask with disbelief. “The moment Ellie and I woke up, you should’ve told us the truth.”

The house is covered in some dark and heavy silence. Your eyes feel wet, but you don’t cry, you barely look at Joel, whose eyes you see with sadness.

“I need time…” you say, sighing, Joel hurries to step in your way.

“Don’t leave me, alone” he convinces you, almost. “I know I’m wrong, but don’t go too…”

Ellie was leaving him. Would you?

“I won’t ever leave you alone, Joel,” you admit, crossing your arms, heading towards the stairs. “But I deserve time alone, no matter how much I love you”

Joel watched you go upstairs. His heart sank, and that was the first night he didn’t sleep again.

…

Things had changed a lot.

Joel had been alone in the house for months. You dropped Cerise off to see him each Saturday and sometimes even Sunday. He was allowed to visit the little girl at Rosalie and Rae’s house whenever he wanted, where you had been staying. Ellie built her place in the garage. And Joel constantly looked through the window to see if she was okay.

But he was edging more and more towards emptiness. His nightmares about Sarah, of you being sick, and many other of his traumas returned. Joel wasn’t being tolerant of your departure with the girls. He missed Ellie and his little bolter, Cerise.

You were awkward each time you bumped into him around town, when you dropped Cerise, you barely eyed him. Joel could feel the rejection creeping all over him whenever you appeared nearby. But deep inside, he could also feel a longing for him. You were more than just his wife.

It was a cloudy day when Joel had scheduled a patrol with Tommy. It would also help as a little therapy session; he knew.

Tommy constantly advised him to plan ahead for the day, you two talked about the whole issue. To choose the right words and accept that you had the right to be mad and confused at him.

Joel knew.

When the gates opened, he saw many people looking at the clinic in town. As if something had happened. A lot of vapor was coming out from the upper windows, but there were no signs of fire.

“What the hell happened now?” Asked Tommy, as someone had taken away his horse.

They walked closer to the crowd of people, and a woman was kind enough to give the pair of brothers answers.

“There was an accident at the clinic with the washer-sterilizer,” Joel and Tommy eyed each other.

“Are there any hurt people?” Tommy asks.

“Some nurses and…” The silence made them look at each other again, until the woman spoke again. “It was y/n… she opened the washer-sterilizer thinking it was working normally and it had accidentally leveled up in temperature. It was boiling…”

Joel handed his rifle to Tommy and started walking towards the clinic with desperate steps. He could hear his brother yelling at him to calm down, but he didn’t listen.

His tired legs dragged him in a second towards the clinic.

“Where is she, Kelly?” Joel asked the nurse that scheduled appointments. He knew the young woman, as she was a nurse like you.

“Mrs. Miller is stable,” Joel rolls his eyes and impatiently taps on the counter. Some people whisper as they pass by him.

“Ugh.. okay, she is in room 30C,” Joel thanked her and walked away. His heart pounding as his fear grew.

He knocked on the door, and your sweet voice allowed him to come in.

Joel entered the room and was greeted by you in a bed, half of your face, neck and hand bandaged. The nurses made you an improvised strapless top and you gave him a little smile.

“Hi, dear…” You greeted him and it made his heart flutter.

He gulped, looking very worried.

“Joel, I’m okay,” you soothe him, grabbing his hand. “The doctor said it won’t leave scars”

“How?… why?” He asks with a half-broken voice.

“The sterilizer was overheated… I opened it and the vapor burned my skin,” you explain.

A nurse enters and sees you and Joel expectantly.

“I’m her husband…” Joel says, the nurse shrugs.

“I know, Mr. Miller,” the woman answers, scribbling something in a notebook and then looks up. “Your wife is ready to go home. But she needs someone to take care of her”

Joel and you exchange looks.

“I’m taking care of her,” he says. Everyone knew you and him were no longer together, but didn’t know why.

“Joel-…”

“Please…” with a sigh, you nod at him and the nurse.

…

Later that night, Rosalie brought Cerise home with Joel, she talked a little with you and then left.

Ellie visited you before Joel, so she hadn’t come again.

Joel was cooking something downstairs, Cerise was sleeping and you were fresh out of the shower, which had been a dare with the burns.

Joel knocked on the door.

“Dinner is ready…” he announces but sees how invested you are in trying to put the bandages in their place.

He sighed and decided to take a better look.

The skin was red, pink, and wrinkled. Joel wanted to magically cure you, but of course, he couldn’t.

“Let me help…” You nod, knowing you were desperate to feel his touch.

The distance between you two had been killing you.

Joel sits beside you and starts taking care of your burns. His calloused fingers make you feel goosebumps. You are able to see his aging face. His greying curls and his warm eyes.

“I miss you so badly,” you blurt out between whimpers, rushing to wipe away the tears.

“I miss you every single fucking day” Joel looked shocked at your words, debating whether to hug you or respect the boundaries. “To the point where it hurts me more to miss you than what separated us in the first place.”

Joel remembers the night Ellie, you and him arrived in Jackson the first time. The three of you had a fight over who was taking Ellie to Salt Lake City. You cried on the stairs of the house that became home.

And now, he felt like it was happening all over again.

“Say something, Joel,” you urge him.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m guilty, I’m the one who caused all of this. I don’t know how to fix it,” he admits, and then steps closer. “But I know I miss you too. My life is incomplete without you and the girls.”

You sob harder, and Joel can’t take it anymore, he hugs you tightly.

You don’t fight back. You embrace him closer.

His fingers brush away your tears as he stares into your eyes, as if he could wander through your soul. His touch is warm, like it had always been. Strong grip but soft caresses for his wife. Joel was over the moon as you hadn’t squinted away from him.

Just like the first time he kissed you at the old apartment in the QZ of Boston, you could feel your heart beating loudly agains, thumping against your ribs. The way Joel eyed you with genuine affection, devotion, and lust was giving you away.

Your hand touches his fingers, caressing your cheek, you want to hold his hand.

As you lean closer, Joel grows nervous, even submissive. He didn’t want to ruin anything. He was listening to Gail; he needed to be genuine. Be vulnerable for you.

“You don’t have to “ his words are seized by your lips brushing his.

“But I want to.” You confidently replied before kissing him.

Your arms came to tangle around Joel’s neck. His hand on your healthy cheek was only attached to your chin.

“I love you…” Joel admits, and you smile.

“I love you too, Joel,” you say back.

A burst of happiness thumping through your chest, heart, and every inch of your body, and Joel’s.

…

Swiftly, you close the door of Ellie’s garage. You had helped her to decorate many things in the whole room, but knowing Ellie, it wasn’t a surprise that the place was already starting to look messy. Either clothes gathered everywhere, drawings and cassettes scattered on her desk.

She finishes putting on a pair of socks and sits awkwardly on the edge of her bed.

“So… What are you doing here?” She asks, watching you looking around with your arms closed. “Today is your girl’s night with Rosalie at the saloon.”

You sigh, nodding. One Friday per month, Tommy and Maria watched over Cerise while you and Rosalie had a free night. Although you and the toddler lived with her and Rae.

“Yeah, it’s just that…” Ellie watches you struggle to find the right words, so she frowns. “Joel and I decided to make up.”

The news slowly spread over the room as you reveal it to her. Ellie huffs in disbelief.

“Already? You didn’t even let it sink longer?” She was mad, even angry at you for leaving her side so fast. You completely understand her. Still, that doesn't make it simpler.

“Joel has done many bad things. He even hurt me in the past…” Your words come out with meaning as you step closer to her. “But he is a good person. He spent his whole life regretting not being able to save Sarah. And now, he’s done everything for me. And you and now Cerise as well…”

“He’s still a liar,” Ellie spits out with anger.

“Yes, he is a liar. But that lie he kept from us is the reason why I’m able to live in a place I can call home,” you admit with a sad smile. “That lie is the reason why I can enjoy raising my daughter, be with you, do what I love, and spent my days with the person that loves me and saved my life. Even if he’s a liar…”

Ellie only eyes you with disdain before feeling the anger suppress, only to be left out with a bittersweet confusing mix of emotions.

“I just can’t forgive him yet. I don’t feel it’s okay but-“

“Then don’t forgive him yet,” Ellie sighs exasperated, covering her face and feeling completely overwhelmed.

“How do I know if what I’m doing is the correct thing to do?” She asks, and you shrug.

“You don’t. You just do it and follow where the heart may lead” You offer her a kind smile and a pair of open arms. Ellie goes straight to hug you.

She needed comfort and ever since she met you, you had been the only person to be completely vulnerable with.

“Just because I forgave him sooner than you, doesn’t mean you won’t later on” she nodded, feeling her eyes growing glossy.

“And no matter what… we’re family, Ellie.” The tears started rolling down her cheeks. You just hugged her tighter.

…

[Late spring 2029]

Joel hands you a water flask, and you gladly accept it.

He eyes you and stares as you drink urgently, it had been two hours since the last break and being eight weeks pregnant didn’t make it any easier.

Joel sighs, enjoying the silence nature was offering. He looks up at the clear skies and notices summer is approaching, the sun starting to burn hotter.

And then, he looks at the skyline.

“Darlin’… look at that” He then points with his finger at the mountains.

“What?” You frown, confused until you see just directly under his finger.

At a still far distance, you see the town. You see home, Joel, and you just made it back to Jackson.

You throw yourself into your husband’s arms. Tears of happiness start to flow, and both of you start chuckling. Like neither of you could believe that it was over. That home was just a few miles away.

“Oh my god!” You squeal with excitement in his arms. Joel smiles wider, wrapping his arms around tightly.

His nose nudges the crook of your neck and lets out a relieved sigh. Joel once again knows that everything he’s been through since he met you was worth it. And he would repeat over and over again just to end up there, having a sense of security and love with you.

_____________________

ep 6 was so beautiful and sad at the same time😭

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭_ @just-mj-or-not @mmkkzz @hiroikegawa @nosebeers @glitterspark @annulmaelae @heartpatch @doodlebob-mp3 @ennvsco @isabella-rose-trastamara @chewie-bars @bypurple @umadirectioner @mrsbilicablog @yvonne-dump @hannah9921 @maystyles @minifresas @barnes70stark @bratgirlniq @onlyforyuto @person-005

[angellekookie]

Just a lil something to take the edge off...

(Coz it's sweet?)

I've been laughing all evening 🤣 😂 😭

First of all, Joonie reminded me of... well me. I loved this lil exchange. This is exactly my humour, 10/10

“Ah-” he paused, looking back at the baby boy. “I don’t think they sell those here,” he chuckled, throwing a sly glance your way. “But if you want, I can distract the mother, and you make a run for the exit with the baby.”

Honestly this just caught me off guard 😭 dang! Crack on the chest, in the chest. Whatever. Dang.😪

“The only man I wanted to start a family with turned out to be married!” You snap. The words slipped out before you could stop them, sharp and bitter. You could feel the heat rise to your chest as the frustration spilled over, the old wound reopening with an ache. Namjoon froze mid-motion, his hand still hovering over a bag of something. The silence that followed was heavy, and you immediately regretted it.

The way this had me cackling (I will repeat this word more than once it represents me accurately during the reading). I downright laughed, read it again, acted out the scene, and then proceeded to die cackling.

There is a thin line between being a genius and an idiot. Namjoon liked using that line as a jumping rope. He had been called both names, sometimes within the same day. One minute he’d be diving deep into philosophical discussions, and the next he was deemed a mumbling fool simply because you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

MC doesn't quite exactly understand what exactly she did to Joonie brain both time. Boy went through 47 shades off reckoning and she doesn't even know, she thinks it's casual. Casual! My boi probably has a ring in mind "just in case" and she doesn't even know. (I also cackled cause in all this baby just agreed ✨️so easily✨️ too, while trying not to freak the freak out.)

“Slow down,” he instructed, his voice low and measured, “Let me get this straight- you want me to consider being a sperm donor for your child?”

To

“Are you suggesting you what I think you’re suggesting? Because if you’re not my mind went to a very inappropriate place.” He asks, his tone light but serious.

I love when men simp, and yearn🥹🩷✨️ it's my weakness actually. That and the jump rope line wrapped around the funny part of my brain and so again- I couldn't stop cackling 🤣🤣

Trust this is a real life pic of me laughing every 3 lines

And now for the important ✨️plot scenes✨️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Firstly,

Second of all, mc girl, if you're not pregnant by now I think I actually am. One second I'm reading sumn funny and then all if a sudden Mr Kim Namjoon came and:

Excellent read 🙂‍↕️ love love love ✨️ and mc if you don't wake up to the feelings banging on your window 😀

Perfect plan -1-

Pairing: Namjoon x f.reader Genre: friends to lovers, friends with benefits? (But the benefit is a baby); crack, a smidge of angst, smut, fluff, happy ending. Rating: explicit. Minors do not interact. Warnings:  mentions of cheating and ‘being the other woman’ (past relationship), reader works at a hospital, Namjoon is just an absolute sweetheart in this, cursing, multiple sex scenes, dirty talking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, just a smidge of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, intensive orgasms, Namjoon tells you to “Relax, woman” before eating you out, lovemaking, and a quick scene of pregananat sex. Word count: somewhere around 15k. Author's note: You know there is this idea travelling around that writers write what they need to hear? Apparently, I need Namjoon to tell me it’s okay if I don’t have it all figured out. Thank you @callmenoona25 for all your help once again. You’re the sweetest! ✨ ps. English not first language. Brain dumb sometimes. If you’re still reading this, leave a comment, drop a like, they’re literally the joy of my existence. part 2: here

Confetti was not just decoration; it was a phenomenon. It had a very special way of never truly being vacuumed up. No matter how many times you tried, the colorful bits- pink, blue and gold- always seem to wiggle away and hide comfortably into the far corners of the room as if they had a mind of their own. They would stay there, nestled in the shadows, only to flutter up again whenever you tried to sweep them away.

After the third failed attempt, you let out a frustrated sigh and abandoned the vacuum cleaner. You’d leave that task for the sober version of you tomorrow.

Instead, you started gathering the scattered napkins from the dining table, folding them mindlessly. Your gaze wandered to the half-burned candles that still sat on the table, the melted wax serving as a quiet witness to your little gathering.

29.

“Happy Birthday!” – those words never felt heavier, laden with unfulfilled dreams and the weight of another year gone by without much to show for it. Even the celebration, once full of light and laugher, had left behind just another mess to clean up. The year was over and you were left with the quiet aftermath.

You had always imagined this age differently, or at least, that’s what you told yourself every year. By now, you thought you’d have things figured out. You thought there’d be someone by your side, someone to share the joy of the life you had built.

Little baby prints all over the house. Raising a child, teaching them how to blow out birthday candles and clean up the mess afterwards.

You had always imagined being a mother by now. Maybe that’s what hurt the most- how the years seemed to slip by without any sign of the family you’ve dreamed of. The house full of laughter, a partner to help you navigate the messes and milestones.

But instead, you found yourself alone. Alone in a big beautiful house, holding a top position as an administrator at a private hospital. But alone.

You threw away the last of the napkins and pushed your way through the clutter on the dining table, your mind still heavy with the weight of the thought that had followed your around since the last of the guests had left. The candles sat atop the garbage pile when you walked towards the kitchen.

The house felt quieter now, almost too quiet, as if it was holding its breath since the celebration had ended.

When you entered the kitchen, the hum of the dishwasher broke the silence. You hadn’t expected to find anyone still here, but here he was- Namjoon, your friend, still loading dishes with the same quiet focus he’d had all evening.

You two met back in your last year at college, when you were both striving to become more than just another student. You butted heads a few times, competing for the opening position of Teacher Assistant, only for the teacher to completely compromise the project by offering the job to his very own son.

Either way, you walked away with a new friend. (The enemy of my enemy?)  You were drawn to his passion, his drive, and his unwavering belief in himself. Turned out the two of you also made a hell of a team when it came to it, because you managed to get the job done, despite the professor’s questionable decisions. You’d stayed late countless nights in the library, hashing out ideas, studying together, even venting your frustration in between textbooks. Namjoon had the uncanny ability to make even the most tedious projects feel worthwhile, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he could turn anything into an opportunity for growth. It was contagious, his unwavering belief that everything- every setback, every challenge, was just another chance to prove yourself.

You’d both laughed about it afterwards, the way the professor’s son had been handed the job without so much as a second though, while you and Namjoon had essentially worked the entire course in the shadows. But it didn’t matter in the end. What you had created, together, was far more valuable than the title ever could’ve given you.

The sound of glassware clinking together was oddly soothing, and for a moment you just watched him.

He was dressed in a casual cream turtleneck that beautifully highlighted his broad chest, paired with olive-green slacks. The golden framed glasses perched on his nose adding a little touch of elegance, perfectly tying the outfit together. He seemed relaxed, at large within the confines of your apartment.

“Still here?”

Namjoon glanced over his shoulder, flashing you a tired but warm smile, “You thought I’d leave you to clean all this on your own?”

You lean slightly against the counter, suddenly feeling restricted by the tight dress you wore, watching him work. It was such a kind gesture, but something about it made you feel even more isolated.

“I could’ve handled it,”

“I know you could,” he said, turning back to the sink, “But I wanted to help.”

There was something about him that made you feel seen, even in moments like these, when you didn’t want to be. Almost like he wasn’t just cleaning up your party mess; he was cleaning your life in some way too. The laughter had faded hours ago, and now it was just the two of you- no more distractions, no more Taehyung and Jungkook cracking jokes, no more celebrating. Just the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the soft clink of plates.  Just still life.

You sigh and pull out a chair to sit down at the small breakfast nook “I just feel like… I’m stuck, you know?”

The sparkling champagne made you tongue loose. Feeling vulnerable and raw, you quietly searched his eyes. “Like, I thought by now I’d have it all figured out- where I’m supposed to be, what I’m supposed to be doing. I just thought I’d have more… more something.”

Namjoon set the plate down with a soft clink and turned towards you, his gaze steady but gentle. He wiped his hands on a dish towel, and for the first time that evening, he let the silence hang between you, as if giving you space to let the words settle before responding.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. That sense of… not being where you thought you’d be. But I also think you’re more than what you’re giving yourself credit for.” He paused, then leaned against the counter, meeting your eyes in that way he always did- like he was truly seeing you, not just the person in front of him, but the one beneath the surface.

You shrugged, a half-smile pulling at the corners of your lips, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I just-” You sighed. “I need to stop drinking.”

Namjoon studied you for a moment, his eyes softening as if weighing your words. He didn’t rush to fill the silence with advice or reassurances. Instead, he simply watched, letting the moment hang in the air, even as it thickened with unspoken words.

Finally, after a small eternity, he spoke.

“It’s okay not to have it all figured out.” He paused for a moment “Life isn’t a straight line. I know you like to plan every little detail of it, but sometimes, it’s just not how it works out. You can’t just arrive somewhere and expect it to be perfect.”

You wanted to laugh, to dismiss his words as is you didn’t know already. But something in the way he said it made it feel real. Like he wasn’t just offering empty comfort, but speaking form a place of understanding.

“And maybe you’re not where you thought you’d be. But that doesn’t mean you’re lost.” Namjoon set the tea towel down with quiet precision, then met your gaze once more, his smile faint but steady. “I think... maybe we’re all just figuring it out as we go. Some of us more than others.”

 You wanted to say something, wanted to argue, but the weight of his words settled over you, a gentle blanket you didn’t know you needed.

“C’mon, you’re tired. Let’s get you to bed.” The softness of his tone caught you off guard, tugging at something inside of you. His words didn’t come with expectations, didn’t demand anything from you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, you simply nodded, feeling a heaviness settle over you that was both familiar and strange. You stood up slowly, legs still a little unsteady from the alcohol, and made your way to the bedroom, Namjoon following quietly behind you.

You didn’t speak as you reached the doorway. There was nothing to say, not really. So instead, you turned around and wrapped yourself around his body, pulling him in a tight hug.

“Thank you Joonie.”

Namjoon chuckled, squeezing you tightly before whispering “Anytime love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fluorescent lights of the 7/11 hummed overhead, as you stood in the middle of an aisle, heart melting into a puddle as you cooed over a chubby-cheeked baby sprawled across a shopping card. All bundled up in a puppy themed onesie, the little one giggled as he reached for a colorful toy, and you couldn’t help but mimic his joyous sounds.

You watched with admiration as the mother, a confident woman in yoga pants (and a vomit-stained shirt), gently tickled the baby’s round face, eliciting a fit of giggles.

Namjoon, as usual, was talking as he dropped something into your shopping cart, not that you were paying him any attention. Not when the baby’s eyes caught your gaze, his smile widening as he cooed at you.

“God Joon, I want one too.”

Namjoon, ever the pragmatist, didn’t miss a beat. “Well, I can get you one, they’re on sale.”

His voice was light, casual, the way he spoke when he didn’t take your thoughts too seriously. You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation.

“What are you talking about?”

“The crackers?” he said, glancing at you, his brow furrowed in confusion as he held a box of crackers in his hand, examining the label as though the fine print held some secret to the universe. “What are you talking about?”

You stared at him for a second, still caught up in the midst of your daydream, before laughing softly.

“The baby, Namjoon.”

“Ah-” he paused, looking back at the baby boy. “I don’t think they sell those here,” he chuckled, throwing a sly glance your way. “But if you want, I can distract the mother, and you make a run for the exit with the baby.”

You laughed at the absurdity of it, shooting him a playful glare, knowing where his teasing would lead.

“Don’t say that! You’ll get us kicked out." You scold with a playful grin.

Namjoon just shrugged, as if the thought didn’t bother him, the teasing glint in his eyes only making you smile wider. You pushed your cart towards the checkout line, the weight of it heavier now.

It’s been a few weeks since you had that moment of weakness, but the ache still lingered, quietly tucked away in the mundane day-to-day distractions. You’d buried the feelings under careful planning, an extra dose of work, and fleeting nights out with friends. But the longing never quite went away.

Instead, it had grown far beyond a mere ‘baby fever’. It was a full-blown malady by now.

Namjoon, however, was a constant, a comforting presence amidst the chaos of your thoughts. And tonight, it was no different, even in the middle of a basic errand run to 7/11. He was there, filling the space with his usual teasing and lighthearted energy, offering a sense of normalcy you didn’t even realize you missed.

“But seriously, I think you’d make a wonderful mother.” Behind you, Namjoon continued to toss items into the cart- bags of chips, cans of soda, candy bars- anything within his reach as he dropped one of the biggest compliments you’ve gotten in the past few years.

It hit you like a soft wave, unexpected, yet somehow exactly what you needed to hear. You paused, a bag of cereal halfway to your cart, processing his words. The motions of the store continued around you- people chatting, the hum of a checkout line in the distance, the baby’s giggles- but for a minute, they all slowed, and it was just the two of you in that fluorescent-lit aisle.

You turn slightly, trying to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks “You think so?”

Namjoon, oblivious to the shift in your mood, continued picking through the shelves, tossing things in your cart with an almost absentminded rhythm “I do.” He said, his voice easy and sincere as it always was with you

“You’re nurturing, you know? And patient. You make people feel safe, like they can just… be themselves around you.” He smiled “And you’re the mother of the friend group.”

He was focused on a big bottle of orange juice when he tacked on “You’d be amazing at it.”

The way he spoke made it sound so simple. But to you, it felt anything but simple. A rush of conflict swirled in your mind.

“Too bad my dating life is so stale,” you grumble, snapping him out of his obsession.

Your past experiences hadn’t been exactly pleasant. From really weird alpha-sigma-dudes trying to convince you that your worth as a woman has declined since you passed the age of 25, to insecure men that felt intimidated by your position in the working field, to just bad timing in general- it was all just… complicated.

The cherry on top was your last relationship. You felt the bitterness creep back into your chest as you thought about him- the doctor. The one who had lied to you for over two years. Even now, the memories felt like a stab straight to your ribs. Like a snake squeezing your heart into nothingness. You gave him everything, trusted him with your heart, only to have it shattered in the cruelest way. You could still remember the disbelief in your voice when you had to confront him.

“God, how did I miss that?” You murmured underneath your breath, your grip tightening around the cart handle.

Namjoon, who had been rifling through the cart, didn’t seem to notice the dark cloud that settled over you.

“Stale? Nah, you’re daring life’s just on pause.” He said, completely unaware of how much his words stung.

“The only man I wanted to start a family with turned out to be married!” You snap. The words slipped out before you could stop them, sharp and bitter. You could feel the heat rise to your chest as the frustration spilled over, the old wound reopening with an ache. Namjoon froze mid-motion, his hand still hovering over a bag of something. The silence that followed was heavy, and you immediately regretted it.

But Namjoon, ever the perceptive one, quickly managed to draw you back in.

“That dick?” he huffed “Its better you found out early on. I can’t bear the idea of you having asshole-babies.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Namjoon’s lighthearted response, despite the lasting burn. The absurdity of ‘asshole-babies’, paired with the sincerity of his tone, almost made the bitterness dissolve. The tension in your chest shifting slightly.

He dropped the bag back into your cart and met your eyes. “You deserve someone who treats you right, who sees all the amazing things you are. You don’t need to settle for anything less.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. It was comforting to hear him speak like that, as if he believed in you more than you sometimes believed in yourself.

“Thank you love,” you said softly, your smile genuine but still fragile.

He flashed a grin, nudging you with his elbow as he walked along you towards the checkout.

“Now, what the fuck did you buy? Why are there three bottles of ketchup here?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay! I have decided.” You announce suddenly, drawing the attention of everyone at the small table to you. The murmur of laughter and clicking of glasses fades into the background, and a bubble of anticipation surrounds your little booth.

The bar is buzzing with life; particularly crowded for a Thursday evening, yet, even among the crowded mess, Jungkook still somehow managed to secure a secluded little nook for your rag-tag group of four.

You glanced around the dimly lit room, where the flickering neon lights casted playful shadows along the walls- a slight twinge of courage envelops you as the warmth of the alcohol teases your senses, coloring your cheeks bright red.

Namjoon’s brow rises, and he takes a contemplative sip from his tall glass of beer, a thoughtful expression dancing across his face. In front of you, Jungkook and Aera are deep into their third glass, laughing at some inside joke only cringey couples would make, oblivious to the rising tension radiating from your suddenly bold proclamation.

“Decided?” Namjoon echoed, setting his glass down, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches you.

Aera and Jungkook both turn their attention to you as well. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes, while Aera wiped her lips with the back of her hand, ready for whatever random revelation you were about to drop.

“I’m going to have a baby by myself!”       

The words hung in the air for a long moment, as though the entire bar had suddenly gone still. Your proclamation floating quietly through the air before crashing and tumbling on the small table between you.

Namjoon blinked, his beer halfway to his mouth, while Aera and Jungkook both froze mid-laugh, their faces a reflection of disbelief and curiosity.

“What?” Jungkook was the first to speak, his voice completely drowning in confusion.

“I already set up a college saving’s account, and I got a head start on the nursery.” You reached for a napkin, just so your fingers have something to do. “The contractor is coming over this weekend to look at the room.” You looked up to gauge their reaction, but when no one spoke, you continued “I mean, I don’t even use the at-home office. It’s perfect.”

Leaning back into the seat, you plant your elbows on the table, the rough surface grounding you as the weight of your declaration settles heavy in the air.

“Wait, wait,” Aera says after regaining her composure, her eyes slightly narrowing with skepticism. “You’re seriously saying you want to become a single parent? Just like that?”

“She’s serious.” Namjoon cuts in, setting his now-empty beer glass down on the table.

He nursed that drink for the past hours only to finish it with one long sip?

 “Trust me, this isn’t a rushed decision. She’s been toying with the idea for months.” He mumbled, leaning back into the booth.

“Yeah,” you nod confidently “The kindergarten right down the block from me has an afternoon group. So, after the baby turns three, I can start working again. And until then I should live comfortably with my savings.”

“Noona you can’t!” Jungkook looks terrorized by the thought, the alcohol just as evident on his face as it was on yours. “So what? You’ll just start fucking every Dick, Harry and Joe in town until you get knocked up?”

Under normal circumstances, the youngling would be much more careful with his words around you, but now, with the buzz going on in his head, his desperation seemed to have taken over. His eyes quickly shifting from you to his Hyung, as if pleading Namjoon to back him up.

 The atmosphere shifts as Jungkook's words slice through your carefully crafted confidence. Laughter begins to bubble back to life around you, but your own heart has started to race, confusion and boldness swirling together like a cocktail in your stomach. You stare at Jungkook.

“You know that’s not how it works.” You reply, your tone steadier than you feel. An involuntary smile creeps back onto your lips. “It’s not that simple, and I’m not looking for casual hookups. God only knows what messed up genetics those dudes have. And I run a risk of an STD.” You shake your head. “No Kookie, I have a plan.”

You take a deep breath, allowing the faint buzz of the bar to seep into your consciousness again, grounding you while your amusement at Jungkook’s pure shock begins to surface again.

“Besides, the plan isn’t just a plan; it’s a well-thought-out strategy.” You try to encourage him, but he just blinks up at you like a hurt little puppy. “I scheduled an appointment at a fertility clinic.”

“And if the plan fails? What if you’re not ready for the challenges of parenting? It’s not just about the nursery or the savings. Have you thought about the reality of it?”

Deep down, you know that Aera just wants to help, however, her questions rub you slightly the wrong way.

“Of course I have!” You assert, a tad defensively but with sincerity woven into your voice. “I’ve done my research, Aera. What it takes. What I need. There are all sorts of resources out there for single parents. It’s not like I’ll be doing this entirely alone. I have you guys, and I know I can reach out to others too if it gets too tough.”

Jungkook ran an exasperated hand down his face, grasping at straws as he mumbled, “What about your love life? This is such a huge commitment, and you’re just going to push that aside for... A child?”

You appreciate the concern, but something in you quakes at the thought of your future being dictated solely by the prospect of a romantic relationship.

“My love life is already complicated. I don’t want to put my dreams on hold for a partner that might not even come.”

“Namjoon! Say something!” Jungkook pleaded, but the gentle giant just kept on silently studying you.

“Congratulations.” Was the only thing that left his lips after a long moment, making you beam up at him as if you’d just received a gold start on a test.

“See?” you said, your smile widening as you glanced back and forth between them. “Namjoon gets it! Life’s too short to wait around for the perfect moment!”

Aera finally shook her head, a soft smile gracing her lips despite the concern in her eyes. “It’s just, we can’t help but worry for you. What if it’s harder than you think? What if you regret this choice down the line?”

You reach for her hand, squeezing it gently. “That’s the thing Aera. I’m not doing this on a whim. I’ve mapped it out. I’m prepared. I believe I can give my child the love and support they need.” You smile, glancing between Jungkook and Namjoon.

“Fine.” Jungkook relented, leaning back in his seat with a resigned sigh, his hands raised in mock surrender. “I guess if you’re really set on this… just promise you won’t forget about me when you become Super Mom or something.”

Aera rolled her eyes playfully, yet her smile remained as she leaned against his chest “As if you’d let her forget. You’d probably be the most dramatic babysitter ever.”

A ripple of laughter echoed among the three of you, the tension momentarily lifting, only Namjoon just kept on staring at the bottom of his empty beer glass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook took no mercy on Namjoon as they walked down the street. After making sure you and Aera safely got an uber home, the little drunken monster unleashed.

“Hyung! You can’t let her do this!”

Namjoon gave a soft chuckle, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He was still processing everything himself; the weight of the conversation hanging heavily on him. Jungkook, who was practically bouncing on his feet with a mix of frustration and concern, shot him an incredulous look.

“You can’t just sit back and let her make such a huge decision by herself!” Jungkook insisted, his voice rising “She’s literally planning to have a baby alone, Hyung!”

“Kookie, she’s a full-grown woman.” Namjoon began slowly, rubbing a hand over his face “And she’s not doing this impulsively. She’s been thinking about it for months.” He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully “She’s not the kind of person to just… act on a whim. She has a plan. And I think, maybe, that’s what she needs right now.” He exhaled a deep breath, looking up at the street lights overhead, his mind running through the conversations he’d had with you.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, a look of disbelief plastered on his face.

“And what about you?”

Namjoon stopped walking, his steps halting mid-stride as the question hit him like a stone wall. For a brief moment, there was nothing but the distant hum of a passing car and the quiet rustling of leaved in the evening air. He turned towards Jungkook; his eyes wide with uncertainty.

“What about me?” Namjoon asked, his voice low, the question more to himself that to Jungkook at first.

“Are we really doing this now?” Jungkook groaned “You love her. C’mon, catch up.”

Namjoon stood still, eyebrows meeting his hairline. He had always kept his feelings hidden, buried under layers of friendship and mutual understanding, the steady belief that he was just someone who needed to be there for you- no strings attached.

But now? Jungkook’s question churned him harder than he expected.

Namjoon blinked, unsure whether to laugh it off or tell him off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kookie.”

Jungkook didn’t let up. “Hyung, I’m serious. I see the way you look at her! The way you act around her! You’re not fooling anyone!”

“Yes, because she’s my friend!” Namjoon tried to protest, but Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“You don’t look at me like that!”

Namjoon’s chest tightened, his throat a little dry as he tried to force some clarity into his emotions.

“Kookie. You’re drunk, you need to sleep it off.”

Jungkook shook his head, as if he were trying to clear out the haze of alcohol clouding his mind. But the intensity of his words didn’t waver. “I’m not drunk enough to miss what’s right in front of me.” His voice softened a little “I’m just saying… maybe it’s time to stop pretending?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Namjoon repeated, but his voice wavered slightly, betraying him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday movie nights have been a staple in your relationship. Something you both held sacred since the beginning. Only under the most extreme circumstances had either of you ever canceled.  

Lately, though, you seemed to call it off more often than not. Ever since you started your weekly appointments at the clinic, Namjoon noticed he was seeing less and less of you.

But tonight, you were adamant to keep the tradition alive. The opening credits of Deadpool 3 were already up on the screen, waiting for someone to press play, while Namjoon busied himself hauling all the blankets to the couch. A spread of your favorite snacks sat neatly on the coffee table. The only thing missing was... you.

In your bedroom, you sat at in the middle of your bed, the laptop balanced on your lap as you repeatedly refreshed your email inbox.

“You ready?” Namjoon called out from the living room.

“Yeah, just a sec!” You refresh again, your face lighting up when the awaited email appeared.

Namjoon watches your reaction and laughs, “Let me guess. It’s going to be more than a second now?”

“I just got the donor list. Want to help me choose?”

Namjoon’s laughter fades, replaced by a look of concern that make your heart race. He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to gauge your enthusiasm.

“Choose?” he repeats hesitantly, “Like, pick a donor?”

“Yeah,” you respond, excitement bubbling over as you quickly type away on the computer. “You’re my friend. I want your input. It feels right.”

He bites his lip, unsure of how to process this new layer to your already documented decision. “You really want me involved in this?”

“Of course! I trust you. Plus, it’s a big step. I could use a little support.” You give him a little sheepish smile, almost hiding your face behind the screen.

Namjoon nods slowly, the weight of your request settling in. “Okay… I’m here for you.” You beam up at him, quickly patting the space next to you “Just-how do we do this?” Namjoon settled down, his eyes quickly scanning the screen.

“There’s a list of profiles with backgrounds, interests and even photos. We can look through it together.” You pause, letting him read over the page.

“This guy seems interesting.” you say pointing to a profile that catches your eye “He’s into poetry, works as a dentist and seems really kind…” but your voice dies down “Ah, but his hair line is receding.”

Namjoon leans closer. “What about this smiley one?” he asks, highlighting a profile with a striking smile.

“Nah, he has a bit of an overbite.” You move the mouse away, “I want to minimize the chances of the kid needing braces.”

Namjoon chuckles, watching you scroll through the list “Oh look! A Redhead!”

“Can I be honest?” you glance up at him, smiling once you caught his gaze “I’m not really into gingers.” You whisper, earning yourself a lighthearted laugh from him. His dimples deepen, and his eyes nearly disappear with mirth.

“You’re such a stereotype.” He teases.

You finish scrolling through the profiles. Each one eliciting more critiques than compliments.

“Too many tattoos.”

“Too much facial hair.”

A crooked nose, a weird eye color, a weird mole. Too short; too tall. That one yodels for fun. You could go on~

After a few more profiles you reached the end. “Ugh, none of these guys are right. It’s like a never-ending list of disappointments.” You groan, closing the laptop and falling back on the mattress.

Namjoon sighs dramatically, taking the laptop from your grasp and setting it on the bedside table, leaning back on the bed. “Maybe you should add a ‘no weirdo’s filter’.”

“Seriously! What’s wrong with some of these guys?” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

This was already the third trial, and you still hadn’t chosen a single profile. Deep down, you knew the things you got so fixated on were merely superficial flaws, but they felt monumental when it came to deciding your future. Even with your careful planning, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were running an undeniable risk.

That is not even considering the fact that the insemination might not even work in the first place. But that only added more chances and statistics to your plan, making your head spin. So, you consciously avoided that rabbit hole.

Namjoon chuckles softly, rolling on his side to face you. For a moment he said nothing, quietly studying your frustration.

“Listen,” he finally broke the silence, his eyes reflecting a gentle resignation “I know you don’t need it; but you have my full support. Whatever- or whoever- you pick.” His smile was so sincere that it made your heart skip over a beat, and in that moment, a new, bold idea took root in your mind.

You allowed yourself a moment to admire your friend- his perfectly symmetric face, kind eyes and adorable dimples. Your gaze drifted lower, taking in his chiseled jawline, elegant neck and the contours of his collarbones, all perfectly complementing his broad shoulders and newly toned muscles.

Suddenly, that unconventional idea that popped in your mind began to feel more enticing. After all, you knew him- the little quirks, the strengths, the pet peeves. You’d met his parents’ countless times. It could actually work out. And you were confident enough in your relationship to give it a shot.

You let out a soft sigh, your heart racing as you considered the next step in your journey. Turning to face him, you bit your lip as you hesitate before speaking.

“Namjoon… can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He propped himself up on one elbow, concern flickering across his face.

You took a deep breath, gathering your ideas. “I’ve been thinking about this process, and-” You swallowed hard “It’s a big commitment. I want to make sure everything it perfect, you know?”

 He is so understanding, watching you quietly and nodding along to your ramblings.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be willing to get tested.” You rushed the words out, your gaze darting to the ceiling, avoiding his eyes.

Namjoon’s brows furrowed in confusion “Get tested? Like... for what?”

You swallowed again, trying to keep your voice steady. “For compatibility. I’d like to know the donor’s genetics, and it would really help to have your input on it. It you’re comfortable, of course.”

A heavy silence filled the room. You could feel the tension in the air as Namjoon processed your request, your heart racing louder with each passing second of his contemplative silence.

“Wait.” He finally snapped, his voice low and measured “You want me to get tested as a potential donor?”

Your palms felt clammy as you looked back at him, offering him a shy nod “Yes?”

“That’s not what I meant-” He stopped his own idea in its tracks “Won’t it make things weird between us?”

“No! Just think about it! I know you; I know your family history. I like your face. And we don’t have to tell anyone. And you can choose how much you want to be involved in the baby’s life. Like I said, I want to be a single parent.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he listened to you ramble on and on about your idea. His brows furrowed deeper, knitting together as he tried to process your words. After a few long moments of constant talking, he held up a hand, stopping your frantic speech.

“Slow down,” he instructed, his voice low and measured, “Let me get this straight- you want me to consider being a sperm donor for your child?”

You nodded eagerly, stomach twisting with emotion and heart picking up in double time. “Yes! I know it’s a lot to ask, but I trust you. We’re best friends, and it would be nice to have a personal connection to the kid’s other parent.”

He turned away from you, deep in thought running a hand through his hair in agitation. “I-I don’t know.” His throat made a weird noise “This is a lot to process.”

Suddenly feeling uncertain, you bit your lip hard. “I know, I know. And it’s totally fine if you say no. We never have to speak of this again.” You shift slightly, feeling heat rise to your neck. “I just though since we’re so close…” You mumble, losing your idea for a moment, before quickly picking it up again "It's not like we'd be raising the kid together! Just, you know...biologically related. As friends."

Namjoon sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, I need some time to think about this, okay? It's not a decision I can make lightly."

"Of course," you replied quickly, not wanting to pressure him. "Take all the time you need. I'm sorry for springing this on you out of nowhere."

He offered a small, reassuring smile. “It’s all right. I’m just surprised. That’s all. I’ll let you know once I’ve had a chance to really consider it.’

You nodded, feeling a mix of hope and anxiety swirling in your gut. “Thank you, Joonie. Just for thinking about it.”

He reached out, giving your hand a comforting squeeze “I’ll always be here for you.”

You returned the gesture, heart full of affection for your best friend. “I know, thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joon 🎍: Just got the tests back. Damn. Don’t even know what half these things are. Busy-bee🐝: If you bring them over, I’ll translate. 😊 Joon 🎍: Yeah. Omw rn. Did you have dinner yet? Busy-bee🐝: Nooo, can we please have Bibimbap? Joon 🎍: Anything you want, love.

Namjoon arrived a short while later, carrying a takeout bag that wafted delicious aromas through the kitchen. He set it down on the table with familiarity, fetching plates and utensils as you carefully looked over the medical results.

“Bibimbap, just as you ordered.” He said, grinning. He looked at you, his expression shifting to one of concern as he noticed the serious look on your face “Is everything okay?”

You glanced up from the papers, forcing a smile “Just trying to wrap my head around all of this.”

He slid into the chair across from you, pulling the take-out container and placing it in front of you. “Take a break from the serious stuff for a moment. Food first. Medicine later.”

You chuckle softly and opened the container, the colorful array of veggies and rice making your stomach growl. “You’re right. Can’t think on an empty stomach.”

As you began to eat, Namjoon began to rifle through the papers. “So, what’s this one?” He picked up a paper, squinting at the dense text. “I swear, some of these graphs look like they belong in a science-fiction novel.”

You giggled, nodding along “I know, right? Let me see… This one is about genetic markers for health risks, and this one,” you pointed to the colorful one “It’s about traits related to personality and intelligence.”

Namjoon let out a long-intrigued sound, “What does it say about me?”

You chuckle, trying to suppress a smile “Well, it’s not like one of those personality tests you find in a girly magazine. But it says our baby might have higher chances of being a visual learner, with higher openness to experiences.” You take a big bite, quietly chewing over the fact that you just called it ‘our baby’ – as in, you and Namjoon. Mashed together.

“Openness to experience? That’s code for ‘adventurous’ right? I think I prefer the term ‘spontaneous’.” Namjoon feigned offence, looking over the papers as if trying to confirm your diagnosis.

 “It’s another way to say you’ll jump at any wild idea.” You tease him, mouth half-full. “But it’s a good quality! You’re creative, fun and adaptable.”

He leaned in closer, curiosity piqued “And what about intelligence? Am I a genius?”

You flipped the paper around, scanning for the relevant section. “Looks like you score high on analytical thinking and problem-solving. So, I guess, in the right context, you could definitely call yourself a genius,”

“Can I add that to my cv?” he joked, before turning serious again “But does any of this affect your choice? Does it change anything for you?”

You took a moment, pondering his question as you quietly chewed your food. “I guess it just adds another layer to think about. I want the baby to have a good mix of traits, you know? If I choose a donor who has strengths like yours, it could make an indent in my favor.”

Namjoon’s expression softened, silently watching you scan the results, before a small smile tugged at his lips. “Whatever you decide, love.”

You smiled, feeling reassured as you grabbed the next paper “Thanks, love. Now, let’s see how your swimmers are doing!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is a thin line between being a genius and an idiot. Namjoon liked using that line as a jumping rope. He had been called both names, sometimes within the same day. One minute he’d be diving deep into philosophical discussions, and the next he was deemed a mumbling fool simply because you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

He knows he is brilliant. His academic achievements and professional life were testament to that. A whole company depending on his decision. Yet here he was, getting grilled for the past hour by Seokjin and Taehyung for being the biggest dumbass that walked this dying earth.

“What do you mean you just agreed to be her sperm donor?” Seokjin blurted; his disbelief palpable as he leaned against Namjoon’s desk.

Namjoon just shrugged, trying to keep his cool. “It’s not as simple as that. We’ve talked about it, and I think it could work out.”

Taehyung leaned in; eyes wide with mock horror “You really jumped into this without thinking it through? Are you insane?”

“I thought about it plenty!” Namjoon retorted, frustration creeping in. “I trust her! We’re best friends. This isn’t some random decision.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, leaning back with a smirk “Best friend or not, you’ll be tied to her and that kid for life!  You’d practically be family!”

"Guys, I get it," he said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "I've thought about this a lot, and I really believe this is the right thing to do."

Taehyung shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. "You're not thinking straight, Namjoon. This is a huge decision, and you're not even considering the long-term implications."

"I am considering them!" Namjoon insisted. "I know that by agreeing to be her donor, I'm getting myself involved with her and the kid for life. But that's exactly what I want. I want to be there for them and support them in any way I can."

Seokjin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Namjoon, you're a brilliant guy. You've always been one of the smartest people I know. But sometimes, I worry that you're so focused on doing the right thing that you don't stop to consider whether it's the smart thing."

Namjoon opened his mouth to protest, but Taehyung cut him off. "He's right, Namjoon! This isn't just a textbook case. This is real life, and there are real emotions involved. You can't just apply your weird logic to everything and expect it to work out."

Namjoon sighed, feeling a pang of frustration. He knew his friends were just trying to protect him, but he couldn’t help but feel like they were overcomplicating things.

"Maybe you're right," he said after a moment. "Maybe I am an idiot for doing this. But it's a risk I'm willing to take. I trust her, and I want to be there for her. That's all that matters to me."

Seokjin and Taehyung exchanged a look, but eventually, they both nodded.

"Alright," Seokjin said. "We'll support you, no matter what. But you’re still an idiot.”

Namjoon sighed; resignation evident on his features at he turned his attention back to his computer.

“You could’ve asked her on a date and get to the baby making naturally.” Seokjin added.

“She doesn’t want a relationship.”

“Well, you can skip straight to the baby making!” Taehyung exclaimed, but Namjoon just rolled his eyes.

 “It’s not that simple, Tae...”

 Unbeknownst to Namjoon, on the other side of town, you and Sumi, your good friend and co-worker, were engaged in a strikingly similar conversation.

“So, I asked him to donate a sample.” You fidgeted with your fingers under the table, unable to meet her eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you voiced your actions. “Any thoughts?”

Sumi studies you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. You felt the intensity of her gaze as she tries to gauge your sincerity. Finally, she broke the silence.

“Yes, and prayers,” she said softly “You need them.” She gives you that incredulous look that only the head nurses seem to master.

You blink, stunned by her response. You expected something different, something along the lines of excitement or curiosity, instead, her reaction was surprisingly tame.

“Why didn’t you just bang him?” She asks, her tone casual, no hint of professionalism in her demeanor.

Your eyes widen in shock “Ayy! Don’t say that!”

“I mean, you can cut out the clinical middle man this way,” she continued “And god knows you need to get laid.”

Your face grew hot. “That’s not the point...” you mumble.

Sumi raised an eyebrow. “Then what is the point, exactly?” She leaned back in her chair, bubble tea clasped in her hands and a smirk playing on her lips. “The baby gets made either way. This is just more fun.” She giggled “You know, Jimin told me that Namjoon used to have quite a reputation with women back in his day.”

You shift in your seat, avoiding Sumi’s probing gaze as you gathered your thoughts. The conversation has taken a turn you hadn’t anticipated, and you were struggling to find the right words.

“The point is, I want to do this the right way.” you say, aimlessly spinning the straw in your drink. “I want to give this child the best possible start in life, and that means doing things properly.”

Sumi considers your words for a moment, before nodding in understanding “I get that,” she says. “But you don’t have to be so serious all the time. You can still have fun and enjoy the process.”

You can’t help but snicker as she emphasizes the words “You sound just like Jimin,” you say, referencing her boyfriend. “He’s always telling me to lighten up and enjoy myself.”

“Well, he’s not wrong.” Sumi says with a grin. “And just so we’re clear, sex is the ‘proper way’ that normal humans use to make babies.”

You roll your eyes, “I know that.”

“Good. At least I don’t need to explain how that works.” She smirks “And I’m sure Namjoon would be more than happy to oblige.”

Suddenly, a very vivid image appears in your mind. Namjoon, hovering over you, his breath washing over your face as your hips collide together. You feel a shiver run down your spine, butterflies emerging in your stomach and quickly push the thought away.

“Make the poor guy feel more involved in the process. You’re treating him like milking cow right now.”

“God, don’t say that!” You cry out, shaking your head to clear the image from your mind. Namjoon was a gentleman, and you were grateful for his help. But the thought of asking him to sleep with you too made you uncomfortable. How would that conversation go?

Hey Joonie, since you’re already getting me pregnant, why not just fuck me?

Sumi laughed, "Well, it's an option. And sometimes, the most unconventional methods can lead to the most beautiful outcomes."

You couldn't argue with that. After all, you were about to become a single mother, and that was certainly not the conventional route.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart as you look across the table at her. She was watching you with a knowing smile, one that suggested she could see right through your nervous façade.

“And just think of it this way, all that money you save from all the clinic appointments can go towards buying cute baby clothes.”

That was the weakest argument yet, but still, you found yourself actually entertaining that idea.

“Do you really think he’ll agree?” as the words leave your mouth a pang of guilt strikes you. Namjoon has been nothing but kind and generous so far, and here you were, letting your horny thoughts take over. You respect and value your friendship more than the need to ‘make things fun’. You can’t do anything to jeopardize that.

“Trust me babe,” Sumi sounds so casual in her conviction. She’s right thought- sometimes, the unconventional ways do lead to the most favorable outcomes. And you can’t deny the spark that ignites in your chest whenever you think about Namjoon.

And this way, you can have more control over the situation. The amount, the frequency. The position….

After all, all the pregnancy and fertility books you’d read recommended that a deep connection is important when it comes to getting pregnant.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers again. “I mean, it’s not like I can just ask him to sleep with me.”

Sumi chuckles and takes a sip of her bubble tea. "Why not? You're two consenting adults, and you both want the same thing. It's not like you're asking him to marry you or anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes at her flippant attitude. "Yeah, I know, but it's not that simple. Namjoon is a good friend, and I don't want to ruin that. Plus, I don't know if I'm ready for something so...intimate with him."

Sumi raises an eyebrow. "Intimate? Girl, you're already asking him to donate his sperm. How much more intimate can you get?"

You take a deep shaky breath, trying to lower your blood pressure as you absorbed her words. She has a point- you hate it, but she has a point.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” you finally say, meeting her gaze. Sumi just smirks at you, clearly pleased with that response.

“That’s all I can ask for.” She says, taking another sip from her bubble tea. “And remember, there’s no rush. Take your time and do whatever feels right.”

You nodded, feeling the heaviness in your chest swirl. You knew this was a big decision, and you don’t want to take any part of it lightly. But you also can’t ignore the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the conversation turns to other topics, your thoughts wandered back to Namjoon. You imagined his kind smile, his gentle nature, and his unwavering support. And you can help but let your mind fantasize.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Busy-bee🐝: Need to ask you smth. Joon 🎍: If it’s about the sample, I’m omw to drop it off at the clinic now. Busy-bee🐝: NoooOooOoo Busy-bee🐝: Stop! Busy-bee🐝: Pls don’t. Joon 🎍: Did you change your mind? Busy-bee🐝: No. Not quite. Joon 🎍: Quite? What happened? What do I do now? Busy-bee🐝: Can you just come over? Joon 🎍: Sure? But just so you know. I have a jar of sperm with me. Busy-bee🐝: Yyuckkk Joon 🎍: Don’t worry. It’s sealed. Busy-bee🐝: Still gross, lol. Just hurry. Need to talk.

While you waited for him to arrive, your heart pounded in your chest. You paced around your apartment in your pajamas, desperately searching for something- anything to clean or organize. The conversation with Sumi replayed in your mind, her words echoing as you contemplated your options thoroughly.  

You couldn’t possibly complicate things with Namjoon, could you?

A soft knock on the door breaks you out of your reverie. And with a deep breath, you open it to find Namjoon standing there, casual and charming, in a green hoodie and ripped jeans, the familiar warm smile lighting up his face.

“Hey,” he says, stepping inside “What’s up? You sounded urgent.”

“Um, yeah…” you close the door behind him and gestured for him to sit on the couch. “I wanted to talk about the… um, sample?”

He raises an eyebrow “Didn’t you just say not to take it to the clinic?”

You wince sightly, still grappling with how to express what you really wanted to say. “Well, I was thinking…maybe we can talk about the process?”

Namjoon settles down, giving you his full attention, confusion clearly evident on his face “What’s on your mind?”

“Sumi mentioned that-” You stop, allowing yourself a second to gather your fraying thoughts, “Well, since we’re both consenting adults…I thought it would be more medically apt to try this with a more ‘hand-on’ approach.”

He nodded, listening closely as he rubbed his chin. A cliché lightbulb suddenly going off in his mind and Namjoon’s eyes widened as he took you in.

“Are you suggesting you what I think you’re suggesting? Because if you’re not my mind went to a very inappropriate place.” He asks, his tone light but serious.

You stammer, nodding slowly as heat flooded your face and neck. “I mean, it’s just an idea. We’re both single…” you trail off, staring at a painting on the wall, “I know it’s unconventional, but I just want to make sure everything’s… right.”

He leans back, quietly considering your words, “It’s definitely a bigger step. Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

As he leaned back on the couch, he spread his legs wider, getting comfortable and invertedly drawing your attention to his well-toned thighs, making your mouth go dry.

“Honestly,” you force yourself to look him in the eye. “I don’t know. But I like the idea of us being more connected during the- that. It feels… outlined better?” you sighed exasperated with your own brain for not cooperating.  “But I don’t want it to ruin our friendship. You mean a lot more to me.”

“You mean a lot to me too, and don’t worry,” he says, “I promise the friendship will remain intact.” He paused for a moment, “And I also agreed once, so yeah, I’m here for you whatever you decide.”

A quiet moment passes as you let his words sink in. His expression was earnest, and the sincerity in his voice offered a reassuring warmth. It was comforting to know that, no matter what weird direction you decide to go in, Namjoon would still treat you like a priority. You let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“Of course,” Namjoon replied, “If your plan needs me here five times a week, then I’ll be here.”

A deep red blush creeps up your neck to settle on your cheeks, as your mind quietly conjures up the scenario where five nights in a row, Namjoon comes over and bends you over every surface in your apartment.

You smiled, a wave of excitement washing over you, but beneath that smile, your mind raced and your heart fluttered. This was a significant decision, and you needed to approach it strategically!

“The plan requires we lay down some ground rules first,” you say, shifting your tone to a more analytical one, “We need to define what this would look like for both of us. Like boundaries, approach and what we’re comfortable with.”

As you sit down next to him, your heart still pounds in your chest. “Okay, so, here’s what I was thinking,” you begin after a drawn-out breath, “We should approach this like a partnership, with communication and mutual respect. We’ll need to set some rules and make sure we’re both comfortable.”

“That makes sense. I want you to feel safe throughout this process. What kind of boundaries did you have in mind?”

 “Well, for starters, we should only do this when we’re sober and well-rested. And we should check in with each other beforehand to make sure we’re on the same page.” You scratch at the back of your neck, looking away for a second.

“That’s a good start.”

“And it’s about the baby making.” You add.

“We already established that.” Namjoon nods, a serious look on his face.

“Are you comfortable with a more casual approach or do you think we should be more clinical about it?”

“Casual. Definitely.” Namjoon shakes his head at the idea of doing it in a sterile white room, a shiver running down his spine. But he quickly composes himself and in turn asks you, “What about after? Do we tell people about this, or keep it to ourselves?”

You took a moment to chew on your bottom lip, considering the implications, even though you’ve thought about this before.

“We should keep it to ourselves for the moment being. Even if almost everyone knows you donated, they don’t need to know…” you trail off again, the blush deepening “How.”

Namjoon nods in understanding, “I can respect that. I don’t want any unnecessary drama.” He gave you a reassuring smile.

You take another deep breath, and allow the sense of relief that comes with his smile wash away any lingering discomfort.

“Thank you. I really appreciate everything you’re doing.

Namjoon reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here for you, no matter what. And I want you to know that I'm not doing this out of a sense of obligation. I genuinely care about you and want to help you achieve your dream of becoming a mother."

Your heart swells with emotion at his words. "Thank you," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That means more to me than you could ever know."

You sit there for a moment, hands intertwined in silence. The weight of your decision quietly sinking in around you.

“I think the next thing we need to set is a schedule,” you say, ruining the moment. “It’s important we’re consistent about this, for the best possible outcome.”

“How often do you think we should try?”

“The research suggests that every other day is a good-enough frequency. But we can see how it works out and adjust afterwards.”

“Every other day. Got it.” He confirms, then asks the only important question of the night:

“When do we start?”

Your heart stops right in its tracks, even as you distract yourself by suddenly reaching to grab your phone, “Let me look at my cycle.” You mumble, opening the fertility tracking app you’d been using.

As you scroll through the app, you felt Namjoon’s presence loom closer, curiosity evident of his face. “How does that work exactly?”

“Do you need me to explain a period to you?” You tease, small smile breaking you from your serious poise.

“No. I just-” Namjoon took a deep breath, nervousness lingering on the edge of his voice as he ran a hand through his hair, “I’m just thinking out loud here, but why wait?”

An audible gasp leaves you lips when you look up at him.

The air between you crackles with electricity, and you suddenly realize just how close you were. In that moment you could almost feel the weight of your actions begin to unravel.

You lock eyes, the tension thickening as you ponder his suggestion. Taking a shaky breath, your heart thunders, and you struggle to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "I mean-"

Namjoon nods, leaning closer to you, his voice steady "I'm sure."

You bite your bottom lip, your mind racing as you try to decide whether or not to take the leap. You've always been a planner, someone who likes to have everything mapped out in advance, but for once in your life, you find yourself wanting to throw caution out the window.

It couldn’t possibly hurt; in fact, it might prove to be beneficial. You’d get the awkward stage over with quickly, instead of letting it simmer while waiting for your fertile window.

Why let nervousness and anticipation settle in when he’s right here, sitting on your couch looking absolutely delectable?

You quickly go over your mental check-list, feeling grateful that you showered and shaved just before he arrived. Your Pj’s are cute, and while your underwear isn’t the sexiest, it’s decent- either way, this isn’t about passion; it’s practical.

You were almost done chewing your lip off when you feel his thumb gently touch your chin, stopping you.

“Only if you want.”

“I can’t remember if I made my bed this morning.” You whisper sheepishly, pulling him out of his serious demeanor. His heartfelt laughter weaving through the tension that hung between you.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m here,” You giggle, shaking your head and throwing your phone somewhere on the couch. “Let’s do this.”

Namjoon’s smile broadens as he stands up, extending his hand to you. You almost hesitate for just a moment before placing your hand in his, letting him  pull you up from the couch and in his arms. Heat radiates off his body as he leans in, his hand gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, closing your eyes as his breath lingers just above your lips.

Then, he kisses you.

At first, it’s gentle, his lips barely brushing over yours, a subtle invitation for you to take the lead. His lips taste faintly like mint from Chapstick, soft and warm, and soon the kiss deepens with a surge of passion. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, feeling the heat between you build. Namjoon’s hands glide to your back, exploring you with a leisurely touch that sends waves of excitement through you.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck, and you tilt your head back, moaning softly when he gently nibbles on your ear.

“You’re adorable.” He whispers, his hands moving to the front of your shirt to cup your breasts. You gasp as he teases your nipples through your shirt, and with a flicker of courage, your hands slip under his hoodie, feeling the hard lines of his abs under your fingertips.

Namjoon smirks at you as you tug his hoodie upward, but he helps you pull it off, revealing his bare chest and you run your fingers over his toned muscles, feeling his heartbeat beneath your touch.

“Joonie, you’re so jacked.” You say with an airy laugh, feeling a surge of confidence pulse through you. “God, I need you.” Taking his hands in yours, you guide him towards the bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

Walking ahead, you can feel a wave of self-consciousness wash over you, even as you remind yourself that this is just Namjoon—the man who always chooses his words carefully and who’s always there for you. But any hesitation melts away when you reach the bedroom. You push the door open, and with renewed vigor, you quickly shed your shirt and bra, moving on to your pants.

Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of you standing there in just your underwear. Though he fights to remain respectful, the hunger in his gaze is unmistakable when you bend down to throw your clothes in the corner of the room.

When you face him again, his lips capture yours, silencing whatever you were about to say. His tongue delves into your mouth, teasing and exploring, and you respond eagerly, his touch sending a thrill of excitement through you.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He murmurs, his mouth leaving a trail of fire down your neck and shoulders. You arch into his touch, your eagerness growing with every lingering touch.

When his mouth finally finds your breasts, he captures one in his mouth and starts teasing it with the lightest graze of his teeth. A sharp gasp escapes you, a rush of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

Your hands fumble with the button of his jeans, desperate to feel him against you. But struggling to push his jeans down, Namjoon steps back just enough to help you, letting you slide them off with ease.

Taking a moment, you stop to gawk at his arousal straining against his boxers. Damn, you had a feeling he was equipped. He just carried that air about him.   But nothing could have prepared you for how massive he actually was. The sight of him, hard and ready for you, sends a new wave of heat through your body, and you find yourself biting your lip in eager anticipation.

You can’t help but stare, taking in his impressive size. He truly is a giant, with broad shoulders, a muscular chest, and an impressive cock. You can’t wait to feel him against you, inside of you, filling you up all the way.

But Namjoon has other ideas. He kneels in front of you, his hands moving to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before pulling you closer. He plants a series of soft kisses along your stomach and thighs, each one sending waves of electricity coursing through you.

“Can I take these off?” he asks against your thigh, playfully snapping the elastic of your panties. And unable to speak, you nod.

With a quick tug, Namjoon hooks his fingers around the elastic and pulls, leaving you completely bare before him. You gasp as the cold air brushes against your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he looks up at you, his gaze intense and full of determination.

You take a moment to savor the image before you: Namjoon kneeling, his eyes dark with desire, radiating an intensity that makes it seem like he could devour you whole. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and without hesitation, he places one of your legs over his shoulder, kissing your inner thigh while his fingers move to your folds. A jolt of pleasure shoots down your spine as he finds your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles against it.

“So wet.” He breaths against you, sending shivers through your body. He glances up at you one last time, seeking your permission with his gaze.

“Namjoon, wait,” you say, gently pushing him away. “This isn’t how we make a baby.”

God, the hold he had over you was intoxicating, making it nearly impossible to refocus and regain your composure.

He chuckles, the hunger in his eyes still smoldering. “No, but this is going to make you feel really, really good.” He replied, his voice a low rumble, hands still holding you steady by the hips.

“I know. But this isn’t about feeling good.” You insist, your hand dropping from his hair and your leg from his shoulder.

Namjoon almost looks disappointed as you step away from him, but then he nods, understanding the importance of your goal.

“Right, I got carried away.”

“Here, just sit on the bed,” you instruct, offering a hand to help him up. Namjoon obeys, perching himself on the edge of the bed, his gaze locked onto you, tracking your every step as you approach. 

Removing his boxers, you’re awestruck once again by the sight of his pretty cock—big, veiny and heavy with a flushed pink tip, leaking precum. Namjoon reclines slightly, his hands resting behind his head, watching you straddle him. You spit into your hand, wrapping it around his hardness to pump him a few times before positioning him at your entrance, slowly sinking down on him.

You both let out a sigh of pleasure as he fills you completely. A soft whimper escapes you as you bottom out, and you bury your face in his shoulder as his hands move to your hips, his thumbs tracing gentle circles in a soothing rhythm.

“Are you okay?” he whispers in your hair.

“Yeah, give me a second,” you reply, taking a deep breath as you adjust to the stretch, his warmth filling you completely. After a moment, you straighten up, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. “It’s been a while.”

Namjoon nods, his gaze soft as he steadies you, guiding you into a rhythm. Rising and sinking back down, you gasp at the sensation of being this stuffed, bracing your hands on his chest for balance as you start to rock your hips, grinding against him.

At first, you move slowly, savoring the feeling, but soon your pace quickens, spurred by the intensity building in your lower stomach.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Namjoon encourages, squeezing your hips to help you maintain your rhythm. Your quiet moans blending beautifully with the sound of skin meeting skin, filling the room with your shared pleasure.

Before long, your thighs start to burn, but the growing tension inside you keeps you bouncing on his cock. You were almost there; Namjoon could sense it too in the way your walls flutter around him. One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers deftly finding your clit and stroking it with perfect precision.

And once he feels you getting too tired to continue, Namjoon takes over, trusting up into you with powerful, steady strokes that meet your faltering movements. The intensity of his pace, mixed with his fingers that never slowed, push you right over the edge, sending you spiraling into bliss.

You cry out as waves of pleasure ripple through you, your orgasm shaking you to your core. Namjoon groans, feeling you clench around him as your body crashes against his chest. His hands grip your ass tightly, and his thrusts grow erratic as he chases his own release, his breathing ragged and soft whimpers escaping his lips. Each sound spurs another clench from you, drawing him even closer to the edge.

“Come on, baby,” you whisper in his ear, fingers gently massaging his scalp as you let him use your spent body however he pleases. “Just let go.”

With a loud, drawn-out moan, Namjoon buries himself deep inside you, and you feel his hot, sticky cum filling you completely. A cry escaped you, muffled against his shoulder as you sink your teeth into his soft skin, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

Your body slowly relaxes, breaths still coming out in quick, shallow gasps.

Namjoon looks over at you, a satisfied smile softening his expression, and a deep, unexpected sense of connection settles over you, an intimacy unlike anything you’ve felt before. Leaning in, you kiss him slowly, silently thanking him for the experience

As you pull away, you roll to lie beside to him, your legs still intertwined. Staring up at the ceiling, a warm contentment fills you, grounding you in the quiet rhythm of his steady breathing.

“Thank you,”

 “Anything for you, love.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6:30 AM- Your alarm rings.

You bolt upright, momentarily forgetting you were meant to wake up, letting out a little groan as you flop back onto the pillow.

“Why do you wake up so fucking early?”

The voice behind you startles you, and you remember with a rush that Namjoon ended up spending the night. His deep, early morning voice sends a flutter of butterflies through your stomach, memories of last night’s activities rushing back to you.

“Usually I do my yoga,” you mumble back, “and after that I shower and get ready for work.” You yawn, stretching all your limbs, before settling right back in his arms, snuggling closer.

“Why?”

“Because we can’t all afford to sleep till noon.” You tease.

Namjoon chuckles softly, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Fair point. But I could get used to sleeping in with you.”

You smile, your heart picking up at the thought. “Maybe I’ll let you join my morning routine someday.” You stay nestled in his arms for a few more moments, enjoying the comfort of his warmth. But soon, the call of nature interrupts your peaceful morning.

With a reluctant sigh, you wiggle out of his embrace. “I’ll be right back.” You say, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Namjoon nods, sleepy smile on his face as he watches your naked body, before he snaps himself out of it.

“Are you going to take a pregnancy test?”

You chuckle as you swing your legs off the bed and pad softly towards the bathroom. “It’s too early. That would be a waste of a test.”

The cold floor contrasts with the warmth you just left behind, and as you close the door, you can’t help but grin, thinking about how nice it is to have him there with you. 

You quickly go about your business, splashing some water on your face to wake yourself up. After a moment you finish up and head back to the bedroom. Namjoon is still lounging against the pillows, his eyes slightly glazed but filled with warmth.

“Back already?” he asks, sleepy smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah,” you walk over to your closet, rifling through your clothes as you decide what to wear. The soft morning light filtering through the windows, casing a warm glow over the room. Once you’re all done you walk over to him, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“I’m heading out. I’ll leave the spare key in the kitchen for you.” You say, feeling a mix of excitement and reluctance to leave.

He smiles, his dimples showing up on his cheeks, “Thanks, I’ll take good care of it…”

You laugh lightly, leaning in again, this time kissing him.

“God, if anything, I hope out baby gets your dimples.” You confess, your heart swelling at the thought.

His expression softens, a hint of surprise lighting up his eyes. “That would be adorable.” He says, a smile spreading across his face, and this time he leans in to kiss you. So soft and sweet, almost convincing you to join him back in bed. You need to place a hand on his chest to pull away, a deep red blush spreading across your face.

“I’ll text you later.”

“It’s a plan.” He smiles, watching you walk away, taking the warmth in the room with you. When the bedroom clicks shut, he finally feels like he can breathe again.

He was a walking disaster. Books will be written about his sheer foolishness, how he willingly tosses aside logic and reason in your presence.

Yet, deep down, he recognized that beneath his eager exterior lay a selfish yearning- a desire for you, wholly and completely, all to himself.

But for as long as you would have him, even like this, with weirdly restricted intimacy, he would give you everything you ask for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the following months, you two manage to establish a working system. The spare key was Namjoon’s now, and he had a dedicated drawer in your closet for his things.

His toothbrush quietly chilling next to yours in the master bathroom.

Along the way, you uncovered a surprising list of things you never imagined you’d learn about your best friend;

Like the fact that he is a talker, loving the way you’d clench around him when he spills pure filth in your ear. He talks you through your climaxes, encouraging you to lose yourself, and cheering you on as if you were competing in a marathon each time.

He also had a habit of giving you all kinds of pet-names, sweet endearments that easily fell from his lips. “Sweetheart”, “Baby”, “Honey”, “Lovely”. However, your favorite was probably the time he accidentally called you a ‘busy bee’ in the middle of one of his ecstatic hazes. The unexpected nickname bringing a smile to your face, even as you surrendered to the waves of pleasure he unleashed within you.

He also had a thing for hickeys. Your breasts now fully decorated with blooming red love-marks, after you scolded him for leaving one right under your collar bone for the whole world to see.

For two weeks, you only wore turtlenecks because of him.

But what stood out the most was his seemingly endless stamina. If it wasn’t for your insistence to take it easy, he would very willingly fuck you until the early morning light.

Much like he was doing right now…

But it was Saturday. You decide you could afford to sleep in.

You could feel him right in your stomach, a ring of cum forming at the base of his cock as he kept on pounding into your abused pussy.

One of your legs over his shoulder, and the other one around his hip, pulling him closer as he kept on trusting into you. You tried your best to move with him, meeting his rapid movements, but you got lost in the pleasure when his finger flicked your clit. You almost scream reaching your climax for the nth time, your body shaking with the force of the release. Namjoon didn’t slow down though, instead picking up the pace as he chased his own orgasm.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he growled “Not gonna stop til’ I fill you up with my cum. That’s what you want, right angel? Want to be stuffed full? Have it dripping out of you when I’m done?” he rendered you a completely useless, weakly moaning back at his filth.

“God, if you’re not pregnant after this.” He groans in your neck, making you shiver again.

The moon was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the room. Engulfing him completely in a silvery haze, and you couldn’t help but admire the beautiful man on top on you. His closed eyes, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, his lips parted in pure ecstasy. You almost couldn’t believe this was your best friend, the person who knew you better than anyone else in the world.

Namjoon reaches his own climax, and you clenched around him, milking every last drop eagerly.

 He collapses on top of you, your bodies slick with sweat, yet you just lay there, wrapped in his arms as the night quietly carried on.

This was the new normal, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After a little while, Namjoon pulls out, quickly grabbing a napkin from the nightstand to wipe away any excess cum before it stains your sheets. You winced at the touch, feeling sore in the best of ways.

“I’m sorry baby. I went a little hard.” He says after discarding the napkin, pulling you closer to him.

You lay there, spent and satisfied in his arms, a little chuckle escaping you at the absurdity of ‘little’ being the past four hours. “Rough day at work?” you ask, looking up, your fingers gently pushing the hair away from his forehead.

“You have no idea,” he huffs, glancing away “With the business trip coming up I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“You’re leaving on a trip?” you stand up straight, looking down at him, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice.

“Yeah baby, I told you I’m leaving on the 5th.” He replies, his voice twinged with exhaustion.

“That is this month?” You fumble out of the bed to grab your calendar from the desk, turning all the lights on and flipping through it.

Has it been two months already? How come you’re not pregnant already?

You quietly look over the pages, calculating exactly what day you should be getting your period on. And your heart raced when you realized;

Last week. This might be it. You might be pregnant already.

“Oh my god, Namjoon!” you giggle like a little girl, jumping and spinning around the room. “This might be it! I’m one week late!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise, and he grabs your arm, pulling you back on the bed. The calendar flying away somewhere as he places his hand on your still-flat belly.

“Really?”

You nodded, a big smile completely taking over your face

“Yeah really.” You giggle “I mean, can’t know for sure, but I’m one week late.” You insist, almost kicking your legs with excitement.

No way you were going back to sleep after this. Instead, you jump back up, running around the room like a little tornado, gabbing your clothes and rushing to the bathroom to shower.

You needed to schedule a doctor’s appointment, go buy the last of the supplies, pick a color for the nursery and look up all the forms needed for maternity leave.

Namjoon sat in the silence of your bedroom, listening to the water from the shower run as you chaotically prepare and plan your future. The thought leaves him feeling a little empty, knowing he is not a part of that plan.

He wanted to invite you to join him for the business trip in Singapore, the plane tickets bookmarked and ready to be purchased. Even if he’d be busy working, the thought of having you nearby calmed his nerves about the whole ordeal. But now he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea. With everything getting more complicated- especially the possible pregnancy- his feelings were tangled between simply wanting to support you and grappling with the deeper emotions he couldn’t ignore.

“Do you think you can handle building a crib?” you ask when you return form the bathroom.

 But only silence greeted you, with no sign of Namjoon left behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life had this way about it. One moment you’re riding high, and the next one you’re struggling to comprehend the fragility of human nature.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, yet it still stings when your plan doesn’t perfectly match reality.

You plan a future with a man, only to be confronted with the painful truth that you’ve been the second woman all along. Shaking you to your core and ruining any future relationships for you along the way.

You take the leap, decide to get pregnant, and for a moment, it feels like everything is finally falling into place. But then that red dark spot appears, shattering all your dreams and hard work.

You didn’t need the pregnancy test anymore- not when your period arrives unexpectedly at the hospital office. Yet, you still find yourself staring at the little stick resting on your desk while Sumi draws a blood sample.

“Are you going to be okay?” She asks, pressing a sterile swab to your arm before continuing. Her voice is gentle, but you can only hear the concern beneath it. You nod, though uncertainty lingers in your mind, and the weight of your reality feels heavier than ever.

You spend the rest of the day meticulously reviewing the hospital’s schedules, throwing yourself in the comforting security that the numbers and graphs provide. You check supplies, organize the timetables, and ensure that no section of the hospital is backed up. Each task grounds you, allowing you to focus on something tangible amid the chaos swirling in your mind. 

At around noon you get the message from the testing facility. Deep down, you already knew the blood work would come back negative, just like the test stick, but it still shattered the last glimmer of hope you had left.

You read the message again, trying to process the words, but they blur together as a wave of disappointment washed over you. The sterile walls of the hospital suddenly feel suffocating, and the rhythm of the bustling environment seems to fade into the background.

You take a deep breath, fighting back tears. Great. Now you were hormonal too.

You force yourself to push through the day, focusing on tasks, but the ache in your chest still lingers.

Joon 🎍: Are we still on for tonight? Baby-momma 🐝: Nah. Got my period. Joon 🎍: Shit. Are you okay? Baby-momma 🐝: Shit pretty much sums it up. Baby-momma 🐝: But I’ll be fine. Joon 🎍: Well, it’s Sunday. We could just watch a movie…. Haven’t done that in a while. Joon 🎍: I’ll even pick up your favorite greasy foods if you agree.

You smile at your phone, feeling the warmth spread through you despite the heaviness of the day. The idea of sharing a cozy movie night with him feels like a welcomed escape. You type back quickly, your heart lifting just a bit.

Baby-momma 🐝: That sounds nice. I could use a distraction✨ Joon 🎍: Great. I’ll be over after work.

 When the working day is finally over, you make your way home, quickly going through the motions. You shower, tidy up a bit, and set up the living room for the movie night, arranging blankets and laying out an array of snacks across the coffee table.

Namjoon said he’s be there by 7, but as the clock ticks closer to 9, you find yourself bored out of your mind. You glance at your phone for any updates, but there’s nothing. You try to distract yourself with a show, but your mind keeps wandering to what could delay him.

Just as you consider sending a text, you hear the key turning in the lock. The door swings open, and Namjoon steps inside, a smile breaking across his face.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Got caught up in a meeting.” He says, holding the bag of junk food.

You feel a rush of relief as he walks in the familiar warmth of his presence instantly lifting your spirits. “You made it just in time.” You say, gesturing to the setup.

He chuckles, placing the bag on the coffee table.  “I got you one of those abominable triple chocolate cakes you like.” He settles in besides you, unpacking the bag and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“God, I love you.” You grin digging in, completely unaware to what effect your words have on him. He pauses for a moment, a hint of surprise flickering across his face, before returning your smile with a warmth that sends your heart racing.

As you both dig into the food, Namjoon seems a bit more pensive than usual, his smile lingering as he watches you blissfully enjoy the cake. You almost moan out loud after the first bite, your face surprisingly similar to the one you have when you reach your climax.

After a moment he clears his throat, looking away as a deep shade of red takes over his ears.

“Hey, I was thinking,” he begins, glancing at you with a hint of hesitation. “You know that I have that business trip coming up.”

“Yeah,” you’re barely paying him any attention.

“I’d really love for you to join me.”

Your head snaps up, surprise lighting up your features. “Wait, really? You want me to come?”

He meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Yeah, I think it would be great. I’ll be busy with meetings, but we can explore together in the evenings. It’ll be fun.”

You can’t help but smile, feeling a rush of excitement. “If I can get off work, sure. Just tell me when to book my tickets.”

Namjoon’s face lights up with relief and happiness. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details as soon as I can.”

You giggle, already daydreaming about the adventure ahead.

“Next week, no?”

“Yeah.” he replies, taking a big mouthful of his burger. You grin, excited at the thought that by that time you would also be done with your period.

“Ah! There’s a medical conference happening around that time too. It would be so cool if they aligned,” you say your excitement bubbling over.

Namjoon nods, his eyes lighting up. “That would be perfect! You could network while I’m in meetings.”

“Exactly! I’ll look into it!” you say, feeling the anticipation grow. The idea of a trip filled with both work and exploration feels like just the right remedy for your disappointment, reigniting a spark of hope.

The duality of man.

[quinnophile]

forgive me father, for I have sinned (teaser)

this fic has not yet been posted!

pairing. remmick x fem!reader

synopsis. in a coastal town riddled with grief and quiet unrest, Remmick, a shipwright with a haunted past, unexpectedly finds solace in the presence of a young woman suffocating under the weight of her father's iron grip - you. What begins as flirtation in flickering candlelight grows into something deeper; stolen moments at the docks, shared songs, and the burning desire to escape a life neither of them chose.

warnings. human + vampire Remmick, pwp, angst, pining, sacrilegious acts, hierophilia, indecent acts within the Lord's house, parental abuse, religious trauma, irish historical accuracy, virgin!reader, monster fucking smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, possible praise, possessiveness, biting, blood play?, dirty talk, dubcon, piv, inexperienced, ). this is set before and during the events of the film!

word count. 10k. + ( predicted )

author's note. this fic is in no way meant to sympathise with Remmick's character in the film. Ya girl is just horny for some Irish vampire. Other than that, I hope you will enjoy my first shot at smut!

there is no smut in this teaser, but plenty to come. these are just a few different selected scenes <3

The voice drifted out like smoke through a cracked window. He could see her now - no, you - half-shadowed in the soft lampglow outside the door, dancing between tables and grinning at the locals as you sang like you owned the very walls around you.

The pub throbbed with the sound of it; boots stomping in time, hands clapping, the chorus echoing back at you from drunk and sober mouths alike. Your voice had a rasp like old whiskey, but it soared, pure and strange and beautiful, like something holy in the middle of all that sin.

“Remmick?” Eoin nudged him. “You alright?”

He didn’t answer.

You bumped your shoulder lightly against his. “So? Any other tunes hiding in that haunted soul of yours?”

He gave a sly smirk. “You mean aside from the ones I hum while sobbing over gravestones and broken dreams?”

You gasped dramatically. “Christ alive, play something cheerful before I throw myself into the Liffey.”

With a chuckle, he struck a chord - a brighter one this time - and began to play a lively reel. His fingers danced along the strings, strumming a rhythm that skipped across the stones like sunlight on water.

You stood without warning, arms thrown wide, and began to twirl, barefoot now, having kicked your boots off without him noticing. Your laughter rang out like wind chimes as you spun around him, skirt flaring with every step.

Remmick watched, spellbound. Still playing, yes, but barely keeping time as you danced around him like the world didn’t hurt, like there were no bruises or pasts or sorrow or fathers.

“Oh, the summer time is coming,” you sang, your voice soaring again, this time more joyful. Less haunting. “And the trees are sweetly bloomin’…”

He joined in, picking up the melody, and the two of you sang into the wind; laughing between verses, forgetting the hour, the pain, the things unsaid.

For a little while, it was just joy, raw, and beautiful. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this happy. 

Then came the Sunday.

Rain clung to the air in a damp, stubborn mist, and the chapel smelled of old stone and wet wool. You were seated in the second pew, your hands folded in practiced piety, but your heart - as always - felt elsewhere.

Your father stood at the pulpit, stern and stony, preaching fire and forgiveness in equal measure. His voice echoed under the vaulted ceiling as he led the congregation in the “Our Father,” eyes closed, cadence sharp.

You exhaled and joined in, lips moving from memory. The words tasted strange in your mouth. Too clean.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

And then, warmth.

A presence slid into the pew beside you, unannounced and wholly impossible. A voice joined yours, a beat behind, low and lilting and full of mischief.

“…Hallowed be thy name…”

You opened one eye.

Remmick.

[lazysoulwriter]

sand and stardust - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡ content: slowburn, soft nostalgia, Pedro being in love™, behind the scenes of GOT, cultural pride, mentions of fame and fan love, married fluff, portuguese phrases, real soft and romantic. Pedro Pascal x Brazilian!actress

---

You met Pedro in the kind of heat that made your costume stick to your skin. The Dornish sun—well, the set lights pretending to be it—shone harshly against the gold jewelry hanging from your ears, and you remember adjusting your stance for the fifth time while someone off-screen yelled about shadows.

“You alright there?” came his voice, a little raspy, a little teasing.

You turned—and there he was, Oberyn Martell himself, giving you a crooked smile and holding out a bottle of water like he already knew you'd forget to stay hydrated.

“Só se for com você por perto,” you replied before you could stop yourself. (Only if you’re around)

Pedro blinked. “Wait. Was that Portuguese?”

You tilted your head, smirking. “What, the Chilean didn’t expect a Brazilian on set?”

And that was it.

A spark, a crackle, the kind of thing that doesn't burst into flames right away, but smolders for months. Pedro made you laugh between takes. You helped him with lines when he fumbled through Valyrian. He kept showing up early, claiming it was for “professionalism,” but he was always just waiting to catch a glimpse of you first.

By the time the Game of Thrones premiere came around, people noticed how close you were. But you weren’t loud about it. You never needed to be.

Years passed, roles came and went. You both worked on opposite ends of the world sometimes, but your roots were already tangled.

When Pedro got cast in The Mandalorian, he brought you to the set like a good luck charm. When you starred in a critically acclaimed Brazilian film, he showed up in São Paulo with flowers and a front row seat.

Your fans? Ferociously loyal. One Twitter thread called you two “the last real love story in Hollywood,” and someone else made a fancam that used a vintage filter and “Garota de Ipanema” in the background.

“I think they love us more than we do,” you teased once, scrolling through edits as you lay tangled in your shared sheets.

Pedro kissed your bare shoulder, still warm from sleep. “Impossible.”

There were still paparazzi sometimes, invasive headlines when they had nothing better to write. You’d get insecure—about the fame, the way the world looked at you, the pressure of being a “power couple.”

But every time, Pedro would find you, wrap you in his arms, and say something dumb in Portuguese like “minha estrelinha de Dorne” (my little star of Dorne) with the worst accent imaginable. And you'd laugh, because he meant every word.

Your wedding had been quiet. Just family. Just love. Just a Chilean boy and a Brazilian girl who met under fake sun and ended up building something real.

And years later, the fandom still posted your old behind-the-scenes photos like they were proof that soulmates were real.

They weren’t wrong.

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[crowsofdarkness]

pairings: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

You stumble upon a scene that awakens something inside of you so Bucky helps you unleash it.

18+ CW's below the cut: arranged marriage, dry humping, blood, mentions of torture, licking up dry blood, pussy spanking.

I shouldn’t have done what I did, sneaking into the hidden room at the mansion, but Bucky had been so quiet about some things lately. I couldn’t help but be curious about what he was doing in that room. Especially when I heard screams coming from it. So when I followed him inside, I nearly fainted at what I saw. 

Bucky laying a vibranium fist into a familiar face. 

My ex boyfriend, the one I’d been with before my arranged marriage to Bucky. I confronted him about the bloody scene in front of me which only ended with Bucky dragging me back up to our bedroom. It was clear that I wasn’t happy with this arranged marriage but I had no choice. I needed to do this to keep the war between our families at bay. I didn’t love Bucky but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, especially right now covered in my ex’s blood as he towered over me. 

“This marriage isn’t real! You can’t defend my honor just because you feel like it. And you can’t kill everyone I ever dated because they touched me,” I yelled at him, holding my chin up high. 

Bucky’s nostrils flared, his anger radiating off of him in droves, and he leaned farther over me causing my body to fall to the bed. His arms locked me in on both sides of my head and I felt his scorching breath fanning over my lips. We were so close that if I titled my head up just a tad, I would finally be able to figure out what he tasted like; a month into this marriage and we had barely touched, even though I couldn’t deny I wanted to know what it felt like. 

“Let’s make one thing clear here. You’re mine, solnyshka. Anyone who disrespects you will pay a price, regardless of who they are,” Bucky pressed his hips against mine. 

I sucked in a breath when his cock brushed along my pussy, over the silk fabric of my pajama shorts. My hands shook at my sides, unsure what to do with them, so Bucky grabbed them and pinned both of them above my head; both wrists fitting in one of his hands. 

“Wh-what did you call me?” I choked out, suddenly realizing what he said. 

His nose brushed along my jawline, breathing me in. 

“Solnyshka,” Bucky almost purred. 

I swallowed thickly, doing my best to keep my strong hold against him even though it was faltering with every brush of his cock against me. He was slowly dry humping me and I was giving back to him with even strokes. There was still dried blood across his bare chest painting him in crimson, and I could still smell the lingering copper scent. 

“What if I don’t like it?” I panted, nearly gone in bliss. 

He groaned while grazing his teeth along my jugular. “Too bad because it stays. Solnyshka.”

With one of his hands still keeping mine locked about my head, his other slipped underneath my nightshirt to graze over my blazed skin. We were like a couple of horny teenagers that found their first moment alone with each other with how frenzied our movements were against each other. My orgasm was building slowly, the familiar tingling sensation in the base of my spine. It was so close, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue and I wanted nothing more than to scream out his name as I came undone underneath Bucky. 

“How wet are you, solnyshka?” He flicked his tongue against my earlobe. “I bet you're soaked just from this.”

I nodded, too far gone now to try and fight against him. I needed this release more than oxygen and it was almost as if Bucky understood because his hand slipped between us to tease my folds over my shorts. 

“I fucking knew it,” he chuckled darkly. “How bad do you want my cock, Y/N?” 

I bit the inside of my cheek, not wanting to give away how bad I actually wanted this. Instead I raised my hips up towards his hands, a silent beg falling from my lips. 

“Use your words,” Bucky demanded before smacking my pussy. 

“Shit!” I cried out. “Fuck you!”

He wrapped one of my legs around his back so he could press his clothed cock over my pussy at a different angle and it was everything I needed for the coil to snap. 

“Oh god,” my body convulsed underneath Bucky as I let my orgasm overcome all of my senses. 

White hazy stars danced at the edges of my vision. 

I could taste the blood from Bucky’s chest as I lapped at it, unknowingly. 

All the noises around me seemed to fade away. The only thing I could hear was Bucky’s grunts as he continued to dry fuck me. 

At some point he let go of my hands and my nails scratched at Bucky’s back, working myself through the aftershocks. 

The scent of his cologne hung along the edge of my nose as I breathed him in. 

“That’s such a good girl, Y/N. You sound so pretty when you cum,” Bucky praised while dragging his teeth along the side of my neck. 

My jaw fell slack when I finally came down from my high and Bucky began raising the hem of my shirt up over my stomach. 

“You can lie all you want, Y/N. But what you saw downstairs turned you on,” he flicked his eyes up at me from his new position over my belly. 

“You’re crazy,” I breathed, letting my eyes flutter shut. 

“For you,” before dragging my shorts down my legs. 

[tiredwriter2003]

Landon Sanchez had heard all about the wacky stuff his cousin's so called hero boyfriend had been up to. Paulina loved bragging about their local hero and everyone he had defeated but Landon called bull. If half of what she claimed had actually happened, if beings from another dimension were casually entering and leaving their own world freely, then it would be national news. Half of these so called attacks were massive and surely someone would have reported it. He had never heard of any of it though and it had caused a massive argument on the families weekly phone call. They were both made to apologise but he was not over it and was determined to prove his cousin wrong.

He started simple, internet search. If this stuff was happening then it would have been posted online, that was just how things worked nowadays, and so a simple search should clear this right up. Landon was right, at least at first, there was nothing when he looked for Amity disasters but things seemed fishier the longer he looked.

There were no accounts at all from the city. Paulina's accounts, which he knew she updated religiously, were gone. He couldn't even find her on his own following list when he knew they were mutually following each other. Her old boyfriend, Dash, was gone too. He looked for the local business pages. Nothing. His favourite fast food place, a small kebab house that allowed online orders, but its website was gone. The local shelter? No dice. After a week of dead ends, looking into every place he remembered for sure had websites, checking his screenshots and looking at the old kebab menu to confirm to himself he wasn't crazy, and noticing the town had even lost it's local tourism page? Landon got others involved. It started small. He asked a friend of his who knew Paulina and was good with computers if he could find out why her profile had vanished, not mentioning anything else yet. Nope, he was stumped. They brought in others. No one found anything. It spread, subtly, online and through word of mouth. Somehow a group of hackers found out and took it as a challenge. People all over began trying to gain access to the missing city. People travelled in person, walking in circles for hours before giving up. It took months before they had a breakthrough and things exploded out of control.

Ironically enough considering what happened, they got through on Halloween, over a year after Landon first decided to prove his cousin a liar. They got access to a local livestream and streamed it to the devices of the now massive missing city hunters. Things went wrong and it spread further than expected. Hundreds of televisions, computers, phones and more all began displaying this livestream.

The stream was called 'Phantom Watch'. Wherever was being filmed was dark, covered in strange blue tinged fog and empty of people. It was an odd thing to stream but things soon changed. Whomever was holding the camera tilted it upwards and the scene took people breath away.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of glowing individuals began appearing in the sky. Music came from nowhere and they began dancing. Laughing and smiling and twirling around the sky. An ageless youth in regal clothes appeared, glowing brighter than any other. A partner soon span into his arms and they were off. His white hair drifted as if he was submerged in the deep, his partner glistened with gold. Dressed as a Pharaoh of old, he was dipped and lifted as they danced.

Another soon joined them, dressed in a Victorian ballgown. As one separated the other took their place, and despite there only ever being two people holding one another it was clearly a three person dance.

More joined, all dancing differently and yet somehow all fitting the music. It was beautiful, it was magical, and it was being seen by thousands of people all over America. This was not what Landon had in mind.

Hours went by as the glowing dancers enjoyed themselves in the skies above what could only be Amity Park, seemingly empty with not a single living person in sight outside of those in the sky. The sun rose and the fog faded, the music fading out and coming to an end.

The dancing stopped. They looked around and the odd trio of before came forward. They bowed, seemingly to the camera, and the other dancers followed. Hundreds dropped into bows before rising simultaneously. As the sun began to hit them the group faded out, the original three beginning their dance again as the others vanished from view. After all were gone and only the three were left they looked towards the fading stars and sighed. They too, began to fade away.

Nothing happened on this strange livestream for a long moment, then a small voice whispered "Happy Samhain to both those still here and those who have departed" and the livestream cut out.

Landon was in shock, as were many other people. It seemed Paulina hadn't been lying about their local hero as one of the dancers vaguely matched her description. She was still lying about dating him though, she was not one of his dancing partners. The rest, he admitted, might be true though. Weird stuff was going on in Amity park, a city in the middle of nowhere Illinois.

However if she was telling the truth then something much more concerning came to mind. It was clear that no one, not even the Justice League if their posts online reassuring people they would look into the livestream meant anything, knew about what had been happening over there. Someone was covering up this city, going as far as trying to erase it from existence, and someone's head was going to roll for this. Landon sighed, cracked his knuckled, and texted the find the missing city groupchat.

"We're totally getting to the bottom of what the heck just happened right?" His phone soon began to buzz with others affirming. Landon smirked, after all he still had to prove Paulina was a filthy liar.

Halloween Dancers

I had an idea, I'll probably write it properly later but for now I'm getting it out of my head. I was reading a post a out Dash being a talkshow host and leading to them outing Amity and this came to mind.

A cousin of a citizen of Amity heard all about all the crazy stuff going down, they keep them updated in their weekly phone calls, but thought they were making it up. Eventually divolves into an argument and they decide to look to prove them wrong. And find the internet oddly sanitised, which makes them look deeper. Eventually they get others involved wondering tf is going on over in Illinois. They manage to break through but mess up, instead boosting the signal so much that the halloween livestreams take over a large chunk of American media. T.v. s, computers, phones, etc all playing the phantom streams, where someone sees phantom just chilling and starts streaming. this time it's Samhain and the place is eerie. Blue tinged fog covers the place, it's dark out, no living person in sight and the camera pointed to the sky. In the sky you see glowing figures dancing to music coming from nowhere. An ageless youth in regal clothes spinning his partner, white hair drifing like he's underwater, his partner dressed like the pharohs of old spinning alongside him. A woman dressed in victorian ballgowns joining their dance. Other etheral beings coming out of the woodwork, spinning in the sky alongside their king. The dead dancing in the starlit sky as the veil becomes thin enough they can all come through with no major issues. And this haunting scene taking over every screen within the signals range. As the hours go by the sun begins to rise and the fog fades. they bow and begin to fade back into the realms, leaving the original three waltzing in the sunrise as the stars fade before leaving themselves and the stream cuts off.

Turns out their cousin wasn't lying, wierd stuff is going on in Amity, and no one, including the JL, knew about it. Someones head was going to rule for the lack of info. This stunk of a coverup.

[docrobinavitch]

say goodbye like you mean it | part four

dr. robby x f!charge nurse!oc content: 18+ mdni, explicit sexual content, detailed descriptions of domestic violence, there is a gun involved in a scene but it doesn't go off, swearing, usual canon medical events, vague age gap (oc mid to late thirties) words: 7.9k PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE synopsis: gwen is confronted with the ghosts of her past and robby desperately wants to help her through it, but in the process ends up pushing her away. a/n: hellooooo there (: thank you all for following robby and gwen to the end. this is the last part! i had so so much fun! i hope you all like the finale. thank you again for all the support on the previous parts, it really means so much to me!! i'll probably turn my attention to one shot/reader fics for the forseeable future, unless some other idea really grabs me. feel free to send requests. ok!! well can't believe i'm saying goodbye to our gwendolyn. love her dearly. i hope she sticks with you all the way she has with me.

It had been a terrible shift. They had started the morning coding a 7 year old who had been in a car accident. Gwen wasn’t normally superstitious, but it had been true for as long as she had worked in the ER that if the shift started with a mortality, there was no saving the day. If a kid was lost first thing in the morning, she thought it was destined to be somewhere in the top five worst shifts of all time.

On top of that, they were slammed. Even more so than usual. There were too many beds in the hallways and the waiting room was standing room only for the entire shift. It was Gwen that day who had gotten snippy with Gloria when she came downstairs and Robby who had had to intervene and send Gwen out for a break to keep her from losing her job.

In order to not fall apart, to stop seeing that poor battered and bruised dead seven year old, Gwen had allowed her rage to fuel her the whole shift. She had broken up a few fights that day, mostly just to have an excuse to shout at someone. But it was the man at the end of the shift that had shouted at Princess that caused her to absolutely lose any semblance of cool she had left.

“Sir, back up. Now.” Gwen said loudly over his shouting, stepping between him and Princess. The man was speaking a mix of English and another language she couldn’t identify. She didn’t quite know what he was saying, but it was clear from the look on Princess’s face that she knew. And it wasn’t good.

The man didn’t back off, so Gwen shouted louder, taking a step towards him, hoping he’d take the hint and match her step back. But he stayed where he was, now directing his vitriol Gwen’s way.

“Sir, if you don’t back off right now, I will have security remove you from the premises. Your choice.”

He stopped his yelling and for a moment and Gwen thought she’d won. But then he curled his lip, “Fucking cunt.” He spat and then shoved her, hard.

Gwen’s head ricocheted off the wall behind her from the force of the shove and she lost her balance, sliding to the floor. There was shouting around her, from the man, and the other nurses around, and then security.

She was dazed from the blow to the head, so she wasn’t sure how long it was before Robby was kneeling in front of her, gentle, warm hands on her face and a bright light shining in her eyes.

“…Can you hear me, Gwen?”

She went to nod, but it immediately made her feel dizzy, “Yes,” She managed.

“You need a head CT.”

Gwen closed her eyes, “If you just let me sit here for five minutes, I’ll be fine.”

He laughed, “You really think that’ll work on me?”

“Considering the fact that your ER will probably be in shambles the second I leave the floor, yeah, I hoped it would.”

“We’re already in shambles,” He helped her up and onto a gurney, his hand lingering on her thigh, “It can’t possibly be any worse than it already is. Princess will take over as charge.”

Gwen closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the gurney, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

“Are you okay? Besides the obvious?” She heard Robby say softly into her ear.

She wasn’t. She was so far from okay and had been far from it all week, not just this shift. Tomorrow was her and James’s anniversary. The last couple of years, it had been tough to get through without being bombarded by memories, both good and bad. But she hadn’t been working, then.

Gwen had thought being back at work would make it easier. She’d be too preoccupied to think about it. But it just made everything worse because it had been in a hospital that most of their relationship had flourished. She saw him in every EKG ordered and every STEMI that rolled through. 

They had been dating exclusively for a few months now so Robby knew her well enough to know something was bothering her, but he was hoping she would bring it up herself. She hadn’t thus far, and it was beginning to scare him. He was finally beginning to understand why refusing to communicate your emotions could threaten to destroy a relationship.

“I’m fine.” Gwen said.

Robby stared at her for a moment longer, his heart sinking, but he only nodded, “Mateo, could you escort her up to CT please?”

About an hour later, Robby found Gwen still in her gurney on the imaging floor, texting Princess about where to move patients in order to clear more beds before the night shift came in.

“Head CT came back clean, time to go home.”

“I could have told you that.” Gwen said, putting her phone down and swinging her legs over the side.

“Better safe than sorry.” Robby said quietly. Gwen said nothing to that. “I sent the police up here, did you talk to them?”

“Yes,” She said and began walking past him, “I told them I didn’t want to press charges.”

“You what?” Robby asked incredulously.

Gwen sighed, “Please don’t get all righteous on me, I’m not in the mood. Assaulting a healthcare worker is a felony, it seemed extreme.”

Robby scoffed, “It’s extreme for a reason, Gwen. If he pushed you any harder you could have a brain bleed or a skull fracture.”

She nodded, “But I’m fine, so.”

He stared at her as she got her things together, “Do you not care about your wellbeing or safety, is that it?”

Gwen headed for the stairwell, Robby close behind her, “You’re being very dramatic about this for no reason. I’m fine.”

Robby sidestepped her and planted himself in front of her, a step down, so they were eye level, “You’re doing the same thing now that you did in Manhattan, you’re running away instead of facing it—“

She flinched as if he had hit her, but he couldn’t regret it. He was pushing too hard, he knew, but he didn’t know how else to get through to her. To get her to admit something was wrong, whatever it was. He had his suspicions it had something to do with James. She had been more on guard recently. Jumping at the sound of the door or the drop of a pan. She was tense beneath his fingers, until her body seemed to register it was only Robby. 

“This has nothing to do with him.” Gwen ground out, but she flushed as she said it. 

“That’s not true,” He shook his head, “I mean, Christ, he nearly killed you and you let him walk away. Then you get assaulted by a stranger and you let that slide too, and why wouldn’t you? You’ve already set the precedent that you think your life meaningless—“

“Stop.”

“—What would someone have to do to get you to hold them accountable? Or will you just keep running until someone puts you six feet under?”

Gwen’s eyes shone with unshed tears and she looked down at her sneakers. Too far. She was dangling off a cliff and he had crushed her fingers beneath his foot. She was free falling, with nowhere safe to land.

“I think we should spend the night apart.” She said finally.

She kept her head down and heard him sigh deeply, “Pushing me away won’t make it disappear.”

Gwen stepped around him and started descending the stairs, “You have no idea what it’s like to fear for your life every second of every day. Do not talk down to me and act all holier than thou because you think you would’ve made a better decision. I did what I thought was best.”

“You did the thing that scared you the least.”

She almost laughed at his cruelty, tears clung to her eyelashes. Choking back a sob, she pushed open the stairwell door at ground level, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.”

***

Robby had tried calling her a few times the previous night, but she had let them all go to voicemail. He had only left a message once, implying that he was sorry he pushed her so hard, but that he still thought she should press charges. He went on to say that he would go with her to the police station if she changed her mind.

Gwen had been pretty certain that she was in love with Robby before this argument, but now she knew it for certain. Otherwise, it all wouldn’t have hurt so badly, knowing that he believed her a coward. And sure, she had the same thoughts about herself occasionally, but it hurt more to hear it from him.

She thought about calling him on her walk to work that morning, or stopping by his apartment. She longed to see him, to be folded into his arms, to be reassured that everything was okay. But he would want to talk it through. And she didn’t want that.

This week and this day especially were already hard enough. If she had to talk more about him, about all the ways she hadn’t been good enough at the end, the scars that still festered in his absence, she would fall apart completely.

It had been more than two years now since the last time she saw James. But that didn’t stop her from seeing him everywhere. Anytime she saw a doctor with thick dark curls from the back, her heart rate would pick up until she could see their face. It was the same in public, except she’d look for a baseball cap instead.

This morning, she walked her usual path to the hospital, through the park. She mulled over her argument with Robby in her head, thought about what she would say to him when she saw him. Probably nothing. It would be easier that way. Maybe if she ignored it long enough, they could pretend it never happened.

She was thinking about this as she crossed the street in front of the hospital, and how she was being childish, when she saw him. He was unmistakable. Dark brown curls peeking out from a Mets baseball cap she had bought him years ago, and in the middle of the street she stopped cold.

She vaguely heard a car slamming on their brakes. The horn pulled her out of her reverie finally, and she turned around.

“Shit, sorry!” She yelled at the car and then doubled back the way she came, back to the park.

Gwen turned back towards the emergency room long enough to see James walk through the doors she walked through every single day.

Her heart raced and her brain was going a hundred miles an hour. Why was he here? Today of all days? Surely it couldn’t be coincidence. He must’ve found out she worked here. He couldn’t stand the thought of her moving on and so had to come and ruin it all. She couldn’t breathe and she found she couldn’t bring her feet to move towards the ER.

She took a step back and hated herself for it, tears burning the backs of her eyes.

Robby had been right, she thought to herself, turning to walk back to her apartment. She was a coward.

***

When Robby walked into the ER that morning, he did a double take at the hub when he saw Gwen wasn’t there. He checked his watch and indeed it was 6:58 AM. Gwen was always here at 6:45 AM the latest. She liked to make rounds with the night shift nurses before everyone else came in so she could get the board in order before the day shift trickled in. It was possible she was running late, but he had never known her to be in the six months she’d been running the ER.  

She hadn’t answered his calls last night, but he was certain she was just taking some space. He didn’t think she would abandon a shift just to avoid him.

“Princess, have you seen Gwen?”

She shook her head, “I don’t think she’s here yet.”

Robby nodded, though his mind was already rapidly extracting worst case scenarios. Maybe she was hit by a bus on her walk in. Perhaps she was mugged. Or she had finally tripped over that loose step on her apartment stairs that he’d been begging her to let him fix for months.

“I already told my landlord, why should you have to do it? This is why I pay rent!”

“Is sticking it to your landlord really worth the risk of breaking your neck every time you take the stairs?”

She had pretended to contemplate, and then grinned, “Yes.”

Though there was a small part of him that worried, he knew realistically she was just late so digging his phone out of his pocket, he dialed her number.

It rang for about thirty seconds and then went to voicemail. Well, was she still giving him the silent treatment or was something really wrong? He sighed and hung up, typing a quick message: Everything ok?

The message delivered. He waited another few seconds to see if she’d start typing, but nothing.

“Fuck.” He looked back up at the ER, the patients, the nurses, his residents and med students that were starting to trickle in. Abbot was still around with a patient.

Robby had grown so accustomed to Gwen being here, to leaning on her for support, he was afraid of who he’d be here without her.

It scared him, the way she’d enmeshed herself so deeply into his life, he could no longer imagine it without her in it.

Sighing, he turned back to Princess, “If she’s not here in ten minutes could you please call her again? And if she doesn’t pick up try and see if you can get Dana here?”

When Princess nodded, he began walking around the ER and gathering his residents and students for rounds.

Just as he was beginning them though, he heard a commotion in the waiting room.

He put up a finger to quiet Samira as he listened. Definitely yelling. “One second, I’ll be right back.”

Pushing through the double doors, he saw security manhandling a guy with a Mets hat on and Lupe yelling at him.

“Hey!” He shouted over the yelling and they quieted, though the man continued struggling against security, “Lupe what’s going on?”

“This man tried to sneak through to the back. He’s perfectly healthy, says he’s looking for a nurse.”

“My fiancée works here and it’s our anniversary! I just wanted to surprise her.” The man said, then added, “I’m a doctor!”

Robby crossed his arms, “You may be a doctor, but you don’t work here. You should know you can’t just go waltzing into any ER.” Then he sighed, “Who is it you’re looking for?”

“She’s the charge nurse here. Gwen Keating.”

His head spun and his blood went cold. Gwen was missing and this had to be James standing right in front of him, looking for her.

He cleared his throat after a moment, “And your name is?”

“James Loverde.”

He could barely hear past the roaring in his ears. This couldn’t be happening. Was it really their anniversary? Was that why Gwen had been off all week? The things he would give to be able to punch this guy’s lights out without repercussions.

But he needed to keep him here until he figured out where Gwen was. Otherwise, he might end up at her apartment.

“Alright, Dr. Loverde, why don’t you come on back with me.”

“But Dr. Robby—“

“I’ll take care of it, Lupe, thank you.” He gestured to one of the security guards, “Olsen, with me.”

The two men followed him through the double doors and he felt his students watching curiously as he brought James into an empty family room.

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll see if I can find Gwen for you, alright?”

Before he could object, Robby closed the door, leaving himself and Olsen outside.

James was already surveying the area through the glass, looking for Gwen he presumed. It made him feel sick. Robby’s mind kept flashing back to the shame on her face when she had told him the truth about why she had left New York. The image of her being pummeled by this fucker. The pain in her eyes yesterday when he had thrown her shame back in her face. It was taking everything in him to keep up his calm and friendly demeanor.

“Olsen,” He pulled the security guard to the side, “Whatever you do, don’t let him leave. And don’t let anyone talk to him or vice versa. Got it?”

Olsen frowned, “Should we be calling the cops?”

Robby sighed, scratching the back of his head, “I don’t know.” He hated that he hadn’t asked her more about her protective order. He knew most protective orders were carried across state lines, but that would have required that Gwen had registered it with the county when she moved here. And he had no idea if she had done that. If she hadn’t, the police wouldn’t help and this motherfucker would definitely leave to go look for her elsewhere, “Not yet.”

Olsen looked at him skeptically, “Boss, what is going on?”

***

Gwen stared at the safe under her bed, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Unconsciously, she rubbed at her throat. Her thoughts had been littered with all the ways James had messed her up as she had walked back home. The most recent memory that had assaulted her was when he had violently choked her during sex and then afterwards pretended like he thought she liked it.

Her therapist was always reminding her that her PTSD meant that her brain would hide away certain memories from her to try to protect her and that anything could trigger one. This was one she hadn’t remembered until seeing him again across from the hospital. It had hit her so forcefully, she had to pause her walk home to hyperventilate while she leaned against a tree. She could still feel his hands, the weight of him on her windpipe, the panic of not being able to breathe.

She remembered that she had scratched his hands up in an attempt to get him to loosen his grip and he had later made her feel so badly about it, she cleaned and bandaged them for him. He never so much as iced the bruises he left on her neck.

Gwen had let Robby’s call go to voicemail. She knew she should answer. Despite their argument, he would be there for her through this. Even though she had fled yet again, proving his point. But, his voice would probably soothe her. He’d know what to do. But she didn’t want to hear the voice of reason right now.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted. Mostly she felt stupid for believing that she was safe from him, here. That since she had dropped the charges he would leave her be. It was just fucking like him to show up at her hospital, her ER, demanding to see her. She was certain that’s what he would be doing. Entitled narcissist that he was. She hoped Ahmad kicked his ass.

But that would just mean once he was kicked out of the ER he’d find some other way to get to her. And she wouldn’t allow that. Could not allow him to float through Pittsburgh unsupervised. No. This was her city, her ER, her friends, her family, her boyfriend. He would not taint this new life she had built. She would not yield this fragile safety net that was beginning to feel like home. She would not run away again.

Her phone vibrated with a text. Robby.

Everything ok?

She stared at it blankly until her phone screen went black again and then turned back to her safe. Unlocking it, Gwen took out the gun.

Her hands trembled as she loaded the clip, slowly and methodically, just as her instructor had taught her, and then slipped it into her bag.

She stood and then stared at her phone that sat on the hardwood. It lit up again, this time indicating an incoming call from Princess.

Gwen lightly kicked her phone until it slid under the bed and then left her apartment.

***

“Hey,” Collins approached Robby with caution as he ended his most recent attempt to get in touch with Gwen, “I don’t want to pry, but is something going on with you and Gwen? I noticed Princess is charge today.”

Robby sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, “No, we’re fine. Or at least, I think we’re fine, but she didn’t show up for work this morning and she’s not answering any calls.” He glanced towards the room James was sitting in, “Fuck, I don’t know, maybe she’s left the state by now.”

Collins frowned, “Why would she do that?”

Robby looked at her, deciding what to disclose. But fuck, Gwen was in the wind and he needed someone to talk to, to tell him he was overreacting, “Well,” He again looked at James through the glass, “She left New York because of that guy in there and she has a restraining order against him after he fucking beat her within an inch of her life and he turned up here this morning and she didn’t and she won’t answer any of my calls. So.” He looked at Collins, “You do the math.”

Heather’s eyes widened, “Shit.” She looked towards the man sitting in the family room, then back to Robby, “She’ll come back, Robby.”

“How do you know?” He asked, and he can’t help the way his voice shakes when he says it. He hadn’t fully allowed himself to feel how fucking scared he was for Gwen until this conversation.

Heather sighed and gave him what she thought was a reassuring smile, “Because she’s tough. And because she has something worth fighting for here.”

***

Gwen sat in the back of an empty ambulance hands shaking in her bag where she concealed the gun. She wasn’t quite sure what her plan was, if there was a plan. James likely was long gone by now. And even if he was still inside, she would never bring a gun into the hospital. She had been working during many gun scares. It never got less terrifying. She wouldn’t do that to her patients or her friends. Especially after the mass shooting they had worked through just months ago.

She doubted she could even pull the trigger if she was faced with him. In a way, she thought, it would be a bit like killing a part of herself. They had been together for a decade, shared the same bed, the same meals. The mannerisms and idioms they both picked up from the other. The language of people who had loved for so long they could no longer decode the outside world without the other by their side.

Gwen couldn’t look at James without seeing the man she had fallen in love with. The same man whose knuckles had split and bled after beating her was the same man who spoon fed chicken noodle soup into her mouth in bed when she had caught strep. And it was impossible for her to separate the two. She couldn’t kill him anymore than she could kill herself.

So instead she sat, running her hands over the gun in her bag, feeling stupid.

The adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off and she wished Robby were here. She should have answered her phone. He was probably worried sick.

Or maybe not, maybe he was just annoyed she had skipped her shift.

Gwen took her hands out of her bag and pressed her palms into her eyes, she was tired of thinking.

There was a knock on the ambulance door and Gwen jumped.

But it was only Robby and he was looking at her like he was scared out of his mind, eyes red rimmed.

At the sight of him looking at her like that, clearly distraught, she broke, sobs that wracked her whole body, “I’m sorry.” She managed.

Immediately, he was next to her, pulling her into his arms, “You have nothing to apologize for.” She felt him kiss her hair as he held her, “You’re okay. You’re alright.” He repeated, and she wondered which of them he was trying to comfort.

“James was here.” She managed through hiccups as she calmed down.

“He’s still here.” Robby said, slowly running a hand through her hair.

“What?!” Gwen started to jump up, but Robby secured her with an arm around her waist, effortlessly pulling her back to him.

“Not yet,” He said softly, “Stay with me.”

“Robby,” She said incredulously, “You can’t expect me to sit here when he’s in there.”

He was shaking his head, “What’re you gonna do when you get in there, hm? Scream at him? Cause a scene? Hit him?”

Gwen thought about the gun in her bag and rubbed at her eyes, “I don’t know. I’m tired of being afraid. I want to show him I’m not afraid of him anymore.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he resumes running a hand through her hair, “It was unfair of me, all the things I said to you yesterday and I’m sorry. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Of course you were scared. Of course you wanted to leave. Who am I to judge you for that?”

Gwen fully melts into him, his apology a salve to her frayed nerves, “Where is he?”

“In the family room. Olsen’s with him.”

“He was looking for me?”

Robby nodded, “Said his fianceé was the charge nurse here. Is it really your anniversary?”

“That fucker,” Gwen sighed, “He said that?”

“Yeah. Is that why you haven’t been yourself all week?”

She almost shook her head, almost denied that anything had been wrong before this morning. But what was the point of pushing him away besides hurting herself? “Yes.” She said finally.

“You could’ve told me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looked up at him, “I thought I could handle it myself.”

He stroked a hand across her cheek and then threaded it into her hair at the nape of her neck, “The whole point of having each other is so we don’t have to do this shit on our own.”

She nodded and then laughed, “When did you get so good at being a boyfriend?”

Robby smirked, “Well, I have this really lovely girlfriend and she taught me everything she knows.”

Gwen smirked, “Ah, she sounds really cool and well adjusted.”

He barked a laugh, “You’re ridiculous.”

She hummed, pleased with herself for making him laugh, “So, what do we do about… James?”

He was still running a hand soothingly through her hair, “Did you register your protective order with the county when you came here?”

Gwen nodded.

“Good, then we can call the police.”

She stiffened under his hands, “He… could lose his medical license.”

“Rightfully so.”

“If I ruin his life,” She said slowly, “He’ll want revenge. He’ll become even more obsessed with me.”

“Not if he’s in prison.”

She scoffed, “Violating a protective order doesn’t come with a very lengthy sentence.”

“No,” He agreed, shaking his head, “But domestic assault with a deadly weapon does. You mentioned a rolling pin as I recall.”

Gwen balked, “You just said I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.”

“You don’t,” He said quickly, “I want you to do what you think is right. But the fact is James is in the ER right now… And…” He tore his gaze away from her, “If we don’t call the police, that means he just gets to walk away. And I am so fucking terrified of not being able to keep you safe if he comes back one day.”

He presses his palms into his eyes, “I know it’s not about me. And I really don’t mean to be selfish. But if you won’t do it for yourself, could you please do it for me?”

Gwen stared at him for a moment, floored to silence by his admission. When she opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by a voice that sent chills down her spine.

“Am I interrupting some sort of lover’s quarrel?”

A few things happened at once when James appeared in front of them, Olsen slightly behind looking remorseful.

Robby stood, placing himself between James and Gwen. He was almost a full head taller than James, and so James backed up just slightly.

“I’d like to speak to my fianceé now if you don’t mind.” James said quietly, his voice dangerous and menacing.

“Not a chance.” Robby said, then looked up over James to Olsen, “What the hell, man?”

“He started saying shit like ‘false imprisonment’, Robby.”

“Gwen, honey,” James called, never looking away from Robby, “Call off your dogs, would you? So we can talk?”

Then they all went very still when they heard a click from behind them.

Gwen had stood and backed herself away, gun behind her back, until she had a clear shot of James. Now, her hands shook and the barrel was aimed at his head.

“Woah, what the fuck?” James backed off, hands up.

“Gwen,” Robby said very carefully, “I don’t know where you got that, but I’m gonna need you to put it away.”

“It’s mine,” She said, her voice shaking, eyes zeroed in on James, “I have a license to carry.”

Well, Robby was certainly learning new things about Gwen today, “Baby, look at me,” He said gently and her eyes flicked to his, “This will ruin your life. Don’t let him win.”

“Olsen,” She said slowly, hands shaking, “Could you please handcuff him?”

Olsen obliges and Robby feels relief flood through him as she lowers the gun.

“Gwen, this is ridiculous,” James starts as Olsen starts walking him away from them, “I just wanted to talk—“

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” She shouted, “I heard nothing from you for two years, but the second I get a job, the second you hear an inkling that I’m doing better, you come down here to try to ruin it all. Fuck you. I hope they take away your medical license.” Gwen said, turning away from him again.

Robby watches Olsen lead James away as he continues to shout after Gwen and then walks up behind her as she unloads her gun and puts it back in her bag, “Would’ve been nice to know you were carrying a firearm earlier.”

She sighed heavily, shoulders curling in on themselves, “I was never going to use it. I just wanted him to be scared for once. To know how it felt.”

“I know.”

She finally smirked at him, “Really?”

“Well,” He rubbed at his beard, “For a second there you had me doubting myself.”

Without warning he reached out and pulled her to his chest, one arm around her shoulders, the other cradling her head to him.

“You scared the hell out of me today.”

“I know,” Gwen said, greedily inhaling the scent of him, “I’m sorry.”

“I thought you left.”

Gwen pulls back slightly to look up at him, “What, like, permanently?”

He nods, “I thought maybe you left the state or something.”

Gwen was exhausted of being angry, but she still felt the resentment stir in her chest, “Right, because you think I’m a coward.” She said bitterly.

Robby doesn’t say anything for a moment, just continues holding her to his chest, “Part of me hoped you had,” He said softly, “Because it meant he couldn’t hurt you. You were right yesterday, about how I didn’t know how it felt to be scared like that. I’m sure I still don’t know, not really. But when he showed up here and I couldn’t find you…” He trailed off, “You’re not a coward. You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known.”

Gwen sighed and tightened her arms around his waist, “Thank you.”

“Hey,” Dana walked up to them and they separated, “What the hell? I was told you weren’t here.”

“She’s not here,” Robby said, and picked up Gwen’s bag, handing it back to her, “She’s going home.”

Gwen frowned, “But you’ll be calling the police—“

“You don’t need to be here for that,” Robby said, “They can interview you later. You’ve been through enough today, don’t you think?”

Gwen looks like she might argue more, so Robby adds, “I’ll come find you after. Text me when you get home safe?”

Finally she sighs and nods, “Okay.”

As she walks off, Dana comes to his side, “Do I wanna know?”

Robby watched Gwen as she walked off, “Did Gwen ever tell you about the gap in her resume?”

“You mean the jack off cardio attending that beat her? Yeah, she told me.”

“He showed up at our ER this morning.”

Dana’s eyes widened, “Jesus.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have called you otherwise.”

“Happy to be here, cap,” She put a hand on his arm, “You okay? Maybe you should go with her. We can call Abbot. Or Shen.”

Robby shook his head, “No, it’s fine, I should really get back in there.”

***

When Robby lets himself into Gwen’s apartment after his shift, it’s dark and quiet. She had texted him that she was home, as he requested, but he still felt that little bit of panic at finding the apartment dark. The police had taken James into custody, but it was likely he would get out on bail while he awaited a hearing.

He found Gwen fast asleep on top of her bed covers, still in scrubs, her phone close to her face. He was relieved the find the gun was no where to be seen, but he made a mental note to ask her where she stored it later.

“Hey,” He sits on the edge of the bed and places a gentle hand to her shoulder, “It’s me.”

Gwen roused slowly, and then blinked up at Robby, giving him a sleepy smile, “What time is it?”

“Almost 7:30.”

She hummed and reached up to stroke his beard, “That’s early for you.”

“I was eager to see you.”

She smiled, “Well, lucky me.”

“The police took James in—“

“Can we not talk about James, please? Just for tonight?”

He nodded, “Of course, whatever you want. But can I just say one thing?” When she nodded her affirmation he continued, “I want to be clear that I know I asked for a lot from you when I encouraged you to press charges. I realize that it would take a lot from you and there would be only a slight chance that it would pay off. But I wanted you to know that if you did decide that you wanted to pursue charges that I’ll be here. Whatever you need.”

“Robby,” Gwen tilted her head a bit as she looked at him, “That’s sweet, but I just… You don’t have to do that, I… We’ve only been dating a few months and I have a lot of baggage.” He watched her eyes tear up.

“Well,” He scratched the back of his head, “I’m in love with you and your baggage so I think you’re stuck with me.”

She inhaled sharply, her heart beginning to race. They had never spoken about the depths of their relationship so openly. She had certainly felt like she was in love with him for weeks now, if not months.

They shared a bed most nights now and spent their days off together. Countless nights making dinner while sharing a bottle of wine, hikes in the mountains on their days off, nearly every moment spent together, even off shift.

It was in the dark of her bedroom the first time he had spoken of Pitt Fest, when she couldn’t quite see his face. She had wiped his tears silently, kissed his cheeks, whispered that he had done everything he could.

Weeks later, on a hike, he had told her about Adamson in the light of the Sun. She, in turn, shared her own stories about the pandemic. The Advanced Directives her and James had drawn up for themselves, just in case. The 12 year old girl she had lost in order to save her 9 year old brother. Some of her own nurses that had died on her shift.

It had healed something in both of them, just having someone to listen who understood.

And it had been staring her in the face for a while now that she could no longer picture her life without him in it.

But she had never expected him to be the first to admit it.

“Really?” She asked breathlessly, mind still reeling.

He nodded, “I mean it. I’m all in.”

She almost laughed, giddy at his confession, “I love you too.”

He exhaled slowly, and grinned at her, “Good, that’s a relief.”

He lowered himself beside her on the bed, and gently pulled her face to his to kiss her.

“Take a shower with me?” He murmured against her mouth.

She nodded, and he pulled her to standing. It was her apartment, but he had been here so many times, he knew how to find his way to her bathroom in the dark.

He left the lights off as he turned on the water and began to undress her. With every article of clothing he removed, he pressed a kiss to the bare skin revealed there. The gentle scratch of his beard against her skin left a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

Beneath his gentle and careful touch, she recognized the barely restrained hunger buried within. They had both had a difficult 48 hours, and so she knew he was keeping himself on a tight leash, should she not want anything further than this, this quiet tenderness. But one word from her and he would become ravenous.

They stepped into the warm spray of water and collectively sighed, Gwen rested her forehead against Robby’s chest. They stood like that for a few moments, the only sound was of the rushing water.

Robby pumped some soap into his hands, lathered it, and began running his hands over Gwen’s shoulders. She, in turn, mirrored him.

“You’re so tense.” She said quietly as she worked the soap into his skin. He grunted softly when she pushed her fingers deeper into his muscles.

As she worked the soap onto his body, she eventually felt his erection against her leg. He didn’t acknowledge it, instead continuing to focus on the sole job of cleaning her skin.

Gwen watched the warm spray of the shower wash the soap from his shoulders and then she kissed the freckles there, “Let me take care of you?” She murmured.

Finally his eyes lifted to meet hers. She saw the carefully lidded desire, embers smoldering in his eyes, but still, he said nothing.

Slowly, eyes never leaving his, Gwen lowered herself to her knees.

She took him fully into her mouth, one hand firmly on his base.

“Oh, fuck me,” He moaned and pressed a hand to the shower wall to steady himself.

Robby ran a hand through her hair, behind her ear, and down to her jaw, securing her chin between his fingers, “Gwen, baby,” He said breathlessly as she hollowed out her cheeks, “Keep looking at me, please. Want you to see what you do to me.”

Gwen moaned against his cock and Robby’s whole body shuddered at the sensation. He swore again, “I’m close,” He ground out and she quickened her movements in response until hot ropes shot down her throat.

She sucked until he was dry, Robby still shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm, and then she stood again.

Robby immediately grabbed her face and pulled her mouth to meet his. Gwen let out a soft gasp in surprise at the urgency of his kiss, she would’ve thought he’d be tired now, but he showed no sign of slowing.

“I want to taste you,” He said, and reached behind him to turn the shower off, “Go lie on the bed.” He instructed, mischief glinting in his eyes.

Gwen laughed, “I wasn’t done showering.”

“We’ll shower again,” He smirked and wrapped her towel around her shoulders, “After I’ve made a mess of you.”

She returned his grin and after drying off, headed back to the bedroom.

Gwen heard the padding of his feet on the hardwood behind her. He watched from the foot of the bed as she propped herself back onto the pillows.

Slowly, he crawled over her, kissing up her legs as he did so. His fingers dusted delicately across her skin, following his kisses closely.

Gwen fidgeted under his slow tease, sure she had to absolutely be dripping just from the look of him gazing at her body with pure undiluted adoration.

If he noticed her impatience he didn’t comment on it. When he began kissing her inner thigh, she could no longer hold back her sighs.

“Robby, please.” She whined finally.

He looked up at her, a cocky smirk on his face, “I’m sorry, I’ve been teasing you for too long, haven’t I?”

Finally, he parted her legs, hooking one of her thighs over his shoulder. He held eye contact with her on the first swipe of his tongue, drinking in the way her lips parted and eyelids fluttered. She was so beautiful, like an angel, the way her back arched at the flick of his tongue.

As he languidly circled her clit with his tongue, he slipped a finger inside her, and the moan she let out went straight to his cock. “So tight for me,” He murmured as he curled his finger upwards, “You’re already ready to finish, aren’t you sweetness?”

Gwen rutted her hips, searching for more friction from his mouth, chasing her high. She loved the sight of him between her legs. Loved the way he seemed to gorge on the taste of her, like he could never get enough. Robby could be difficult to read sometimes, he could be distant and moody and distracted. But here, on the hallowed ground that was their shared bed, she never doubted for a second how badly he wanted her. How he craved her, desperately. She felt it in every look, every touch, every kiss, every swipe of his tongue and graze of his teeth.

It felt holy, the way he worshipped her body when they were home together. She would never get tired of it. Just the thought of his soft brown eyes looking up at her from between her legs was enough to unravel her. And it did, then. He curled his finger once more against her walls before he felt her convulsing around him. She moaned his name as she came down and as she caught her breath, he came back up to her, beard full of the scent of her.

“Michael,” She said softly, eyes dazed, “Need you inside me, please.”

Robby tilted his head and smirked, “Really, you still want more?” The taste and feel of her had him erect again, but he doubted he’d be able to finish again.

“Please.” She said, and Robby noticed with some alarm, her lower lip was trembling.

“Hey, baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” He raised a hand to stroke her cheek gently, but she was shaking her head.

“I don’t know, I just feel…” She was crying in earnest now, “I think the day has finally caught up to me.” She reached between them, impatient to feel his erection, “Please, we don’t have to fuck, I just want the closeness, please, I want to feel you.”

He couldn’t deny her anything, not when she was like this, “Okay, shh,” He tried to say soothingly, “It’s alright.”

He slowly pushed himself inside her, watched as she gasped at the way he filled her up, and the tears that kept cascading down her cheeks, “I got you, baby.” He said softly as he slowly rocked his hips into hers. Robby cradled her head in his hands and kissed the wet trails on her cheeks, “You’re okay.”

Gwen pulled him closer, close enough that they were sharing breath, “I love you so much,” She said.

Robby pushed his nose into hers, “And I love you.” He kissed her, the saltiness of her tears on his tongue, “You’re alright,” He repeated, “I’ve got you.”

He wasn’t sure if he had somehow said the wrong thing, because she began sobbing earnestly. He stayed inside her, but he stopped his movements and simply wrapped her in his arms, holding her as tightly as he could manage. He continued to murmur soothing things in her ear, reminding her that he had her, that she was okay, that he loved her, that he wasn’t going anywhere. Eventually her sobs eased into hiccups.

“I’m sorry.” She said finally, her voice still thick with tears, “I don’t know what that was.”

Robby shook his head and pulled back enough to see her face, “It’s been a really hard couple of days for you. The physical release from your orgasm maybe triggered some emotional release.”

She huffed a laugh and stroked a hand down his cheek, eyes still shining wet with tears, “Well, thank you for…” She shook her head, “Maybe this is too much to say, but I don’t know that I would have survived today if not for you.”

“It’s not too much. I would do it ten times over if it meant ending the day like this, with you, in my arms. I would do anything to end every day like this, forever.”

Her lower lip trembled again and he caught it between his thumb and forefinger. She kissed the pad of his thumb and sniffled, “Careful. I might hold you to that, Robinavitch.”

He smiled, “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Another laugh escaped her, and then she grew serious, “You’ll come with me to the police station tomorrow?”

He nodded, “Anything you want,” He kissed her slowly, “I love you.” He said again, drunk on the sound of it.

Gwen sighed against him, “I love you.”

God, did he love hearing it. The things he’d do to make sure he got to hear it every day for the rest of his life.

He brushed the backs of his knuckles against her cheek, “Let’s go get cleaned up again, shall we?”

In the shower again, they silently washed each other up. The desire in Robby’s eyes had been replaced by a tenderness, the depths of which Gwen didn’t think could be measured. She felt safe and loved and cherished under the weight of it, under the touch of his fingers as he methodically cleaned her body and followed the trails of suds as they were washed from her body with kisses.

Robby was safe. Robby was good. And most importantly, she got the feeling that Michael Robinavitch would love her until the end of time if only she gave him the chance to.

And she planned to give him the chance. She planned to give him everything.

[clarkeysbedchem]

only bought this dress so you could take it off

will lenney x reader

summary: two childhood best friends with unspoken feelings finally find their way together

warning: mature content (18+ only)

masterlist | main masterlist

You had always known Will, he was the boy in school who’s laugh bounced off the walls, the boys who has been infatuated with since you were kids. He was the boy who never paid attention to you until you waltzed into your science class hair freshly bleached and teeth free of braces.

But when he finally noticed you, he never overstepped any boundaries. Somehow, you just made sense together. The two misfits who sat in the back of the classroom, whispering nonsense and building inside jokes that spanned over years. You bonded over stupid YouTube videos and helped edited each other’s first videos in his cramped uni accommodation, the air thick with energy and promise.

Eventually the silly little YouTube channels you had made began to grow - thumbnails improving, ideas improving and friendships growing. Every achievements or milestone celebrated with you by each others sides no matter what. You making random appearances in his commentary videos, and him always being found in your vlogs. ‘Power duo’ fans called you. ‘Platonic soulmates’. You just laughed it off, even when your stomach fluttered whenever his hand brushed yours.

Then the flirting started. That line between friends and something more slowly fading away but neither of you mentioning it, scared of what will happen if you do.

The off-camera moments, the lingering stares during late-night editing sessions, the sleepover where you’d wake up tangled in each other, that one night where a dare turned into a kiss that was never mentioned again.

Then Mia came into the picture and everything you and Will once shared; he now shared with her.

Will fell hard, you watched it happen in real time. One day he was laughing at your new video, leaning against your shoulder as he scrolled the comments. The next, he was talking about her; her hair, her laugh, how easy it was with her.

You told him you were happy for him. You said it so often that the words didn’t even feel real as they left your tongue leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

Eventually, the daily texts slowed, then stopped all together. The invites from your shared friends stopped. Suddenly you were watching his life from a screen, like the rest of the world, like you hadn’t even been there to begin with. His fans noticed and blamed Mia which you hated because it wasn’t Mia’s fault – it was Wills. Your friends checked up every once in a while to make sure you were still around, and you were just not for them.

And then, after five years of pretending he hadn’t once been your entire world, of getting rid of any trace of him in your life - he showed up at your door.

Drenched from the rain that hadn’t stopped all week, his hoodie clinging to him, like a scene straight out of a movie. His eyes sad and hopeful as he stared at you. You didn’t ask any questions, you didn’t really need to, you just let him in.

“She’s gone,” he told you, pacing around your hallway, the rain dripping onto your hardwood floor, “I didn’t know where else to go.”

And just like that, the air between you snapped back to what it used to be buzzing with something unspoken. He stayed that night curled on your sofa in a hoodie you had stolen from his back in uni, and it was life he never left after that.

He started showing up again. Random texts updating you on his day at the office, random facetimes when he was away filming for his channel. Then you started to appear on his social’s again, just the occasionsl Instagram story where he panned the camera a little too far and fans would spot your hand or the corner of your laugh. Then they spotted the extra pair of shoes, or the additional coffee cup in the corner of your vlogs and pieced it together.

You weren’t hiding anything, just not labeling it.

Everyone noticed.

Your friends would shoot each other looks when Will would pay for your drinks on nights out or take your bill at a restaurant without an argument. Then the not-so subtle brushes of his fingers against your arm during a conversation or him pullinh you closer in a group photo. You would catch Freezy smirking, or Chris raising his eyebrows like he knew exactly what you were both dancing around.

Which brings you to where you were now. At a rooftop bar in London, glittering with fairy lights and overpriced champagne celebrating Ethan’s 30th birthday. Everyone dressed to the nines, and you are no exception.

You wore that dress. The one you bought without evening thinking about it. The one you tried on and immediately thought of him. The way it clung to your curves like second skin, the deep green satin glittering under the light with every step. You didn’t admit it, not even to yourself, but you only bought it so he could see it. Subconsciously hoping it would end up unraveled into a pool on his bedroom floor.

The music pulses through the floor, laughter swirled around you, drinks clinking in celebration. You could feel the burn of his eyes on you, goosebumps rippling up the bare skin of your tanned legs and arms. The shift in the air and the wave of heat travelinh down your spine made your brain melt into mush as you turned around spotting him across the room laughing at something Harry said.

But his eyes were focused on you, darkened with something you hadn’t seen before, like he hadn’t seen anyone else all night, like he was starved.

His eyes dragged down the length of your body, slow and lingering, drinking in every inch of you, and you let him. Your pulse raced, your skin prickling with want as your eyed locked. You didn’t smile, neither did he. It wasn’t that kind of look; it was the kind of look that said you know what this is.

You didn’t acknowledge his presence when he appeared at your side, but your body immediately melted into him as his hand fell flat on your hip when he laughed his way into your conversation with Talia and Faith. The two girls exchanged knowing smirks, but they didn’t dare say a word letting it unfold naturally.

By the end of the night, you could barely breathe.

You were practically vibrating in your seat as you sipped on your countless glasses of champagne. Your legs crossed over each other as you pushed back the ache burning in you as the the tension and unspoken weight of years and missed chances started to crash down. Every lingering look from him felt like a promise, and every touch a dare.

He found you alone for the first time that night, stood near the bar waiting for your final glass of alcohol, with the fairy lights shimmering above you.

“Come with me,” he murmured, sliding his hand in yours.

You didn’t ask any question, you didn’t care enough. You just followed him, letting your fingers tangle together as he lead you through the back hallway of the venue, past the coat check, past the quiet staff corridors, until he finds an empty room.

The door shuts behind you. And then there was a silence.

A heavy, charged silence.

“I can’t keep my eyes off you,” he breathes, eyes locked on yours, “All night. I couldn’t stop.”

Your voice caught in your throat, your words coming out more hesitant than intended, “You think I didn’t notice?”

He stepped closer, “You wore this on purpose.”

You didn’t deny it. You don’t need to. He already knows.

And then his hand is on your waist, and your back pressed flush agains the cold wall before you could let out your next breath. His mouth crashed into yours like a dam breaking, all teeth and passion, the past two decades of unspoken yearning finally dissipating.

You kissed him without hesitation, kissing him like you had never kissed anyone before. A kiss that was desperate, hungry, raw.

Your hands tangled into the curls at the base of his neck pulling slightly and his grip on your hips tightening in return as his lips moved to your neck, and you gasp his name like a prayer.

“Say it again,” he groaned.

“Will.”

Everything stops. His eyes found yours looking at you like you had just given him oxygen. Like you’re the only thing that’s ever made sense to him,

“Will, I need you,” you whispered, fingers clumsily pulling at the buttons of his black linen shirt.

It was all heat and motion as his hands pushed your dress up your thighs, your finger palms flat on his toned chest like you needed something tangible to know this was actually happening. You were both half-drunk, fully gone, lost in each other like there’s nothing else. No cameras. No fans. No relationships. No years of holding back.

Only this.

Only him.

His hands brushed over your bare thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress with practiced ease, until he was cupping the backs of them, lifting you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your back burning against the wall, your dress bunched around your waist.

A string of groans fell from his mouth vibrating against the skin of your necj as you rolled your hips against his, the contact sending sparks up your spine. Something snapped inside him, and there was nothing careful about the way he moved anymore. His hands tightened on your thighs tethering you to him like he was afraid you’ll slip through his fingers again, like he needs to memorise the way your body felt against his.

One hand fumbled with the strap of your dress, slipping it down your shoulder with agonising slowness, exposing your skin to the cool air. His mouth follows the trail, leaving kisses and bites along the outline of your collarbone, and down to the swell of your chest.

“Fuck,” his breath fanned against your skin, “You’re so beautiful. You always were. I just. I couldn’t let myself.”

“Then don’t wait anymore,” you whispered, breathless, “You don’t have to.”

That was all it took.

Your dress fell away from your chest entirely pooling at your hips, as you bared yourself to him. A low wrecked sound tumbled from his chest as his flickered between your face and the expanse of skin in front of him. When he leaned in again, his kisses were softer, slower like he was worshiping every inch of you. His hands shaking slightly as they roamed your body, cupping your breast, thumbing over your pebbled nipple, pulling a lewd gasp from your lips.

The way he looks at you, it was so much more than lust.

It was like all the years of unspoken love that had been buried deep beneath friendship and silence finally caught up with him and was captured in his now deep blue eyes.

His hand dropped down between your bodies, pressing the heel of his palm right where you need it, and your hips bucked in response. His forehead rests against yours, breathing ragged.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he muttered, his eyes focused completely on the way your hips responded to his movements, “You have no idea.”

Your hands moved to cup his jaw lifting his head to meet your gaze, your words slipping out raw and honest, “I’ve always wanted this.”

The look in his eyes turns molten, “Say that again.”

“I’ve always wanted you Will,” your whispers melting into a broken moan as his fingers slipped under your underwear, finding your soaked and aching core, “You’ve never been just a friend.”

He cursed softly under his breath, his touch growing more deliberate as his finger slipped into you, coaxing soft gasps from your lips as he worked you open with gentle, teasing strokes.

Your head lulled back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as he curled his fingers just right.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving your blissed out expression and the way your lips parted slightly for your soft noises could slip passed them.

“So are you,”

His free hand unbuckled his belt, never once stopping the rhythm of his other, his fingers still making work on you, never taking his eyes off you. The need growing into an unbearable pit in his stomach now, frantic and pulsing. You wereboth too far gone to stop, not that either of you want to.

He lined himself up before pausing, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Without an ounce of hesitation, he pushed into you with a slow, deep stroke, and everything else disappears. The room, the party, the years of pretending all dissolves as you clung onto him, your legs wrapped around his hips, your body trembling with relief and pleasure.

The rhythm builds slowly, desperately, as he fucks you up against the wall, every thrust laced with all the things you’d never said.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails breaking skin drawing specs of blood. His name tumbling from your lips like a song. And when your orgasm finally crashed down, you unraveled in his arms, your mouth pressed on his to conceal the moans ripping from your throat, and your heart splitting wide open.

He followed moments later with a gasp of your name, his forehead pressed into the crook of your neck as he spilled into you, shuddering through the release.

For a long moment, there was only silence. The rise and fall of your chests pressed against each other, and the thump of your hearts still racing in sync.

Then, quietly, he kissed your temple, “You‘re mine,” he stated, his voice barely audible.

You smiled, dazed and wrecked and glowing, “Always.”

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[psformybss]

One Year Down

series masterlist

warnings: 18+ MDNI, emotional intimacy, domestic fluff

Charleston’s golden hour washed over their backyard like honey, coating the fence, the weather-worn wood of the deck, and the hanging fairy lights Drew had strung up earlier that morning. Some tilted awkwardly, but he’d spent an hour on the ladder anyway, muttering under his breath, determined to make their backyard feel like something out of a Pinterest board—even if it wasn’t perfect.

She stepped out barefoot, dress brushing her thighs, and instantly smiled at the scene in front of her. The table was set with candles, wine, and what could only be described as “attempted fine dining.” Drew stood beside it, barefoot too, sleeves rolled to his elbows, face lit with that sheepish, please-tell-me-I-did-good grin.

He looked up. Froze. Blinked once.

“Jesus,” he said, eyes trailing slowly from her head to her toes. “You look like a damn dream.”

“And you look like you burned the garlic bread,” she teased, slipping into his arms before he could defend himself.

“It’s ‘crispy,’” he said, arms locking around her waist. “And we’re calling it ‘rustic.’”

She leaned up and kissed him, slow and easy, hands brushing the back of his neck. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

He kissed her back, lingering. “Happy anniversary, Mrs. Starkey.”

They ate beneath the fading sun, pasta slightly overcooked, salad slightly overdressed—but it didn’t matter. It never did. Drew kept her laughing, telling stories with his usual animated gestures, pausing mid-sentence to brush her hand or kiss her knuckles like he couldn’t help it.

Halfway through dinner, she tilted her head, watching him over the rim of her wine glass.

“You nervous or something?” she asked.

He blinked. “Why would I be nervous?”

“You’ve checked your pocket like three times.”

He exhaled a laugh, then stood and pulled out a small black box, setting it in front of her with a shrug.

“I’ve had this for months,” he said. “I kept thinking I should wait for the five-year, or something bigger, but—screw it. It felt right.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened the lid.

A delicate heart-shaped necklace rested inside, gold and understated. She lifted it gently, noticing the engraving—just faint enough to feel private. Their initials on one side. The date on the other.

Her throat went tight.

“Drew…”

He moved around behind her, brushing her hair to the side. “Let me put it on you.”

His fingers grazed her skin as he clasped it, then lingered just below the pendant, thumb sweeping over her collarbone. He kissed the curve of her neck, lips soft and reverent.

“I wanted something close to your heart,” he murmured. “Something simple. But lasting.”

She turned and kissed him again, deeper this time, her hands framing his face. “It’s perfect.”

“And now,” she said, eyes dancing, “my turn.”

She disappeared into the house and came back holding a worn leather journal tied with twine. Drew’s brow furrowed as she handed it to him, careful.

He opened to the first page.

His breath caught.

Inside was her handwriting, looping and familiar. A memory. A moment. A line from a conversation he didn’t think she remembered.

“You’ve been writing all this time?” he asked, voice thick.

“Since our wedding night,” she nodded. “I didn’t want to forget the little things. So I kept a record.”

He flipped through page after page—inside jokes, quiet confessions, scribbled drawings, even a list titled Things Drew Does That Drive Me Crazy (In a Good Way).

He was quiet for a while, just holding it in his hands like it was fragile.

“This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me,” he said finally, eyes glassy.

She brushed her thumb over his cheek. “You give me something every day. I just wanted to give some of it back.”

His mouth found hers then—not soft this time, but hungry. Deep. He kissed her like he couldn’t breathe without it.

“Let's go inside,” he murmured, voice hoarse.

They stumbled into the house between kisses and laughter, knocking into walls, half-undressing each other on the way to the bedroom. Her dress slipped from her shoulders. His shirt was yanked over his head and tossed somewhere behind them.

By the time they reached the bed, her back hit the mattress and he followed without hesitation, bracing himself above her, eyes drinking her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing kisses down her neck, “It actually hurts sometimes.”

Her breath caught when his mouth found her chest, lips moving in slow reverence before his hands skimmed down her sides, memorizing skin like he hadn’t already spent a year doing it.

She reached for him, pulling him down, their mouths crashing again—wet, open, desperate.

He slowed just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

“You,” she breathed. “Just you. Always you.”

He slid inside her slow, deep, their bodies fitting like a familiar rhythm, the kind that doesn’t need words. Her head tipped back, a quiet moan falling from her lips as his pace built, steady and tender but edged with something raw.

He gripped her hand, laced their fingers above her head, his mouth against her ear. “I love you. I love you so much it scares me.”

“I know,” she gasped. “I feel it. Every second.”

She wrapped her legs around him, hips meeting his with more urgency. The air between them thickened—hot skin, tangled sheets, breathless praise. He kissed her everywhere, mouth mapping devotion down her chest, across her shoulders, between her thighs.

When she came, it was with a shudder, his name falling from her lips like a vow.

He followed moments later, buried deep, groaning into the crook of her neck, holding her like he’d never let her go.

They lay tangled afterward, sticky and flushed, her head on his chest, fingers idly tracing over the line of his ribs.

She kissed his chest, right above his heart. “Best anniversary ever.”

He laughed, arm tightening around her. “And we didn’t even leave the house.”

“Why would we?” she yawned. “The good stuff’s right here.”

He pressed a lazy kiss to her forehead.

“One year down,” he said quietly.

“Forever to go,” she replied, already half-asleep in his arms, that new necklace glinting softly in the moonlight.

taglist: @maybankslover

[biteyoubiteme]

his lips gently pressed against your forehead. a reassurance to show you were safe. safe with him. EEEEEEKKKKKKKKK><<><><><

“no. i’m not hurt. there’s a smell that’s. it’s so sweet.” his voice came off ragged as his breathing increased. his desperate breathing reminded you that of a fever. raising your hand to his forehead, it felt hot to the touch. that’s when you noticed it. your palms faintly covered in red. the sweet smell jay was talking about was from you. it was your blood. STOPIT i love it sm like i just love vampires wtf- 

yet that same control was slipping through his fingers. “yn..” jay spoke in a husked whisper. almost as if. no. he was yearning for you. how could he force himself to pull away. especially when you were right there. so close to him. his forehead pressed against yours, half lidded eyes studying your features. he needed you. OMFG- im sitting here just giggling and kicking my feet in love with him and obsessed with him and wishing i had a vampire bf who was trying to resist the urge to bite me ;-;

but instead of doing so deeply. he began to lay kisses along your cheeks. to your jawline. then to your neck. Stop kisses on the neck when they are vampires just hit so different it makes me unwell- 

“i’m gonna bite you now okay?” his eyes still held doubt. understanding if you wanted to back out now before it was too late. Consent king- 

you squeezed your eyes shut as you braced for the pain. soon there it was. a burning sensation pulsing through out your neck. a whimper left you lips as his fangs sank deeper into your skin. you could feel jay hesitate, ready to stop. your fingers tangled into his hair, easing his worries. signaling it was okay. finally jay’s fangs settled into your neck. the taste of your blood made his body tremble. the taste was unlike anything he had before. it was sweet yet bitter. something that would forever be distinct to you. Chewing on the bars of my cage rn I LOVE A FIRST BITE SCENE UUUGHGH

☾ BITE ME ── p. jongseong

IN WHICH: the vampire that always crashes at your place saves you from danger. going back to your place, you both finally have a well deserved heart to heart moment.

PAIRING: vampire!jay x human!fem reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, fluff, skinship, kissing, they make out frfr, biting (fangs), slight sexual harassment, mentions of blood once again WORD COUNT: 2.4k ₊⊹♡ EVIE'S NOTE: another morning another early ass post. per everyone's wish i have made part 2. won't say much on it cause i don't wanna spoil things. but i hope i delivered part 2 well. but yes hope you guys like it. btw vampire jay ily PART I

your arms wrapped around your body. hands underneath your arms hoping to keep them warm. the air in the night was cold yet crisp, as you made your way home from work.

you made a turn into the shortcut you first met jay at all those nights ago. once again it was weeks since you last saw him. you instinctively frowned at the thought of him. jay made it seem like he’d be back within the week.

yet here you were again waiting around for him. promising yourself the next time you saw him you’d give him a piece of your mind. that is if he isn’t covered in wounds like every other time he stops by your place…

a deep sigh left your chest, your warm breath turning into a ghostly mist. continuing your trek home the sudden sound of approaching footsteps stopped you for a moment.

usually the shortcut to your apartment was rarely used. only known to those who lived in your building. despite that it was one am at night, no one would be walking home at this hour. your pace quickened wanting to get out of the alley way as soon as possible.

as your pace quickened so did the footsteps behind you, even if they sounded uneven with your own. each beat felt like it echoed louder than the last. a frantic rhythm matching the pounding in your chest.

almost making it to the end of the alley, your body was forcefully pulled back. body turned around to be met with the pungent smell of alcohol.

“what’s a pretty lady like you doing here so late at night?”

the minute the man’s breath hit your nose, bile formed in your throat. you yanked at your wrist in hopes of getting out of his grasp. to your demise even in his drunken state the man’s grip was strong.

swallowing back the urge to vomit you spoke through clenched teeth. “let go of me…”

the man laughed giving you a drunken smile. a chill running down your spine. your life flashing before your eyes in that second. panic soon set in. your mind hurriedly figuring out how to escape from him.

“come on. don’t be stubborn. let’s have a good time together.” his words came out in a slur as his body began to sway.

“go to hell.”

the man’s joyful expression soon twisted to anger. his brows knitted into annoyance. taking note in the change of attitude your body went into flight or fight mode. adrenaline pumped through your veins as you strongly kicked the man in his shin.

you had hoped to kick him with the intent of aiming in the area where it would hurt must. but ultimately fell short.

the man let out a ragged breath, soon cursing out in pain. his grip on you loosened. perfect timing to run away. you turned on your heels and bolted. but only after a few strides, did your legs buckle. sending you to the ground. as you fell to the ground, your palms steadied your fall. turning your head to check on the man you eyed his movements.

noticing him let go of his aching shin. fear dawned on you as he got ready to chase you down. ignoring the stinging of your palms you forced yourself back up. you began to run again. despite the sharpness of the cold air slicing at your skin. you ran, pushing past the stinging in your legs and hands.

tears began to burn into your eyes. the echoing of the drunken man’s yelling frightened you. your vision began to blur from the tears. as you aimlessly blinked and wiped them away, your body collided into someone. your already frantic thoughts worsened. fearing that the man wasn’t alone this whole time.

the new stranger wrapped an arm around your body. his firm grasp was tight as you began to punch at his chest. unable to see who was the drunken man’s accomplice. you began to fight your way out of his grasp.

“yn it’s okay it’s me.”

your ears perked at the all too familiar voice. soon your hands that were hitting at his chest stopped. the firm hold that felt threatening was replaced with familiarity. it was jay.

“jay…” your voice came out weak as you looked up at him. cheeks drenched with your tears as more still fell from your eyes.

you looked into his eyes a habit you formed over the year. the usual burgundy color shifted into a deep crimson. a hue so intense it glowed under the moonlit alley.

“you know i don’t like it when you cry..” his tone was gentle. a soothing hush to calm the constant pounding in your chest.

his lips gently pressed against your forehead. a reassurance to show you were safe. safe with him. “get behind me okay?” obliging to his words you hurried behind him.

your shaky hands tightly held onto the bottom hem of his leather jacket.

“leave..” instead of the gentle tone jay had with you, it was now demandingly cold. jay’s red eyes shined as his voice deepened with the intention of hurting the man if he refused to listen.

you faintly heard frantic breathing. then the drunken man’s voice loudly breaking through the deafening silence. “what are you?!”

instead of the sound of confrontation, the sound of hurried steps instead echoed out into the distance.

“he’s gone.” jay’s once cold voice altered the second he spoke to you.

you eerily peeked from behind jay’s arm, eyeing out if the man was really gone or not. seeing the now empty alley way your panic faded. you gripped the jacket tighter as you softly spoke.

“thank you. if you weren’t here i. i don’t know what would’ve happened.” tears began to brim your eyes once again. jay turned around to look at you. mostly needing to make sure that thing didn’t harm you. he couldn’t help but lift his hand to wipe away the faint tears.

a satisfied sigh left his chest seeing you unscathed. your head raised to look up at him, head tilting at his sigh. when looking at him you noticed his eyes were back to the burgundy color you loved.

remembering the promise of scolding him your brows furrowed ready to scold the vampire. yet before even doing so jay’s breathing staggered. his focus wavered as his senses picked up on something in particular.

“are you okay?! were you hurt before you got here?” your tone immediately shifted to worry. jay’s body soon swayed. causing you to help steady him.

“no. i’m not hurt. there’s a smell that’s. it’s so sweet.” his voice came off ragged as his breathing increased. his desperate breathing reminded you that of a fever. raising your hand to his forehead, it felt hot to the touch. that’s when you noticed it. your palms faintly covered in red. the sweet smell jay was talking about was from you. it was your blood.

“shit.” you couldn’t help but curse under your breath. the only thing you could do now was drag jay home.

finally stumbling through the entrance of your apartment, you rested against the door. a sense of deja vu washing over as you caught your breath. you steadied jay against the wall, preparing to take both your shoes off. before even trying to do so, you were caged against the door. the sudden action catching you off guard.

you looked up at jay. his eyes casted a dark tone to them. his desire once again piling up. every inch of him felt like it was burning with that desire. but he needed to control himself. yet that same control was slipping through his fingers.

“yn..” jay spoke in a husked whisper. almost as if. no. he was yearning for you. how could he force himself to pull away. especially when you were right there. so close to him. his forehead pressed against yours, half lidded eyes studying your features. he needed you.

eyeing the mole he noticed weeks ago. his eyes scanned for face. he had to know if you’d be okay with this. okay with him, his desires, the carnal need to sink his fangs into you. yet there you were standing before him. not a single doubt written on your face.

jay’s hands left the side of your body to hold your face. you melted into his touch. everything with him always felt just right. his thumbs caressed your cheeks gently.

“i… i’ve wanted this for so long…” he murmured. soon his lips gently met with yours. the soft press of his lips sent a shiver down your spine. the sensation was cold yet held a touch of warmth to it.

jay’s hands that cupped your face now found its way at your waist. one arm holding you tightly to his body while the other was planted on the door. as the seconds went by jay’s kissing became more earnest, more heated. his tongue swiped at the bottom of your lip. a silent invitation to deepen the soon intimate kiss.

your breath hitched as your lips parted for him. the kiss deepening as your tongues met together. heat soon rose between your bodies. jay’s hold only pulled you closer to him. the space of distance feeling unbearable. his kissing soon turned sloppy leaving a quiet moan to slip between your lips. to then be swallowed by another kiss.

the kiss between you two was truly more than heat. it was a years worth of silent yearning. mixed with the ache of jay’s fear spilling into this moment. you could feel the entirety of his need. the way his body clung desperately to yours. fearing as though you’d slip away from his grasp now that he had you.

jay finally parted from the kiss. he watched as you gasped softly for air, all while he steadied his own breathing. your fingers burned as you held onto his shirt for support. small jolts of a tingling sensation shooting through your body. jay couldn’t help but eye at how swollen your lips looked in this moment.

he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy this more than he anticipated he would’ve. once more jay leaned back down to kiss you again. but instead of doing so deeply. he began to lay kisses along your cheeks. to your jawline. then to your neck.

once meeting your neck his movements stopped. his head rested on your shoulder as he eyed the side of your face. noticing the absence of his affection you looked over at him. your gentle eyes meeting his regretful ones.

“are you sure…” he sounded hesitant. worried that you weren’t one hundred percent about your decision. “you’re like a moon to me yn. always there for me even when everything else feels dark. you alone bring light to me when i need it most. i don’t wanna lose you to this. this desire of a vampire…”

“you won’t lose me jay. i don’t care about the danger, or the hunger, or the difference in our worlds. i care about you. i love you.” your hand reached up to his cheek. a gentle finger caressing his face in reassurance.

“god. i’ve loved you since that first night.” his voice breathless as he continued to speak. “i’ve always found myself coming back you, all those nights since then.” jay’s hand took yours bringing your palm to his lips. soon kissing and licking away the blood that stained your hand. the sensation was ticklish causing a gentle laugh to come out.

now as both your hands were intertwined jay resumed his original actions. not only did he leave pecks of kisses along the nape of your neck, but faint nibbles. occasionally sucking at your skin leaving a visible mark.

the more he spent his time in the crook of your neck. the more his fangs started to protrude out. once happy with the litter of love bites all over your neck he raised his head.

“i’m gonna bite you now okay?” his eyes still held doubt. understanding if you wanted to back out now before it was too late.

once he has a taste of your blood he would never wanna live without it. that was the curse of his desire he had to live. even if it meant for the rest of his life. a desire he prayed will never hurt you.

“it’s okay, jay. bite me…” your voice was a hushed whisper as you tilted your head more to the side. opening up the crook of your neck more for him.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you braced for the pain. soon there it was. a burning sensation pulsing through out your neck. a whimper left you lips as his fangs sank deeper into your skin. you could feel jay hesitate, ready to stop. your fingers tangled into his hair, easing his worries. signaling it was okay.

finally jay’s fangs settled into your neck. the taste of your blood made his body tremble. the taste was unlike anything he had before. it was sweet yet bitter. something that would forever be distinct to you.

your body began to weaken as he sucked up your blood. noticing the way your legs gave in jay knew it was enough. un sinking from your neck he raised his head. jay couldn’t help but admire the new symmetrical dots that stood out on your neck. a mark that showed you were his.

jay took notice of your groggily demeanor. taking it upon himself, he scooped you into his arms.

now settled into the bed you couldn’t help but sleepily play with his fingers as he patched up your lightly torn palms. once satisfied with his work he got into the bed getting comfy next to you.

“you’re not gonna disappear for weeks on end anymore right?” you stared up at him with heavy eyelids. sleep slowly yet steadily lulling you in.

“of course not. i’ll be here right by your side always.” jay leaned down to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. as he stroked your hair gently.

“good. that means you need a phone so i can get in contact with you whenever—” before you could pester on, you dozed off. your breathing gentle and rhythmic. jay couldn’t help but tuck a hair behind your ear. eyeing your sleeping face as he smiled down at you.

“yes yes. anything for you my lune. sleep well.” his words were hushed as he pulled you closer to him. exhaustion soon weighing down on him as well.

perm taglist ( open! refer to this post ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek @ijustwannareadstuff20

©myjjongie 2025

[only-martha-knows]

…[Mat] saw Egwene coming out of the village, with two dozen or more Aes Sedai, most wearing fringed shawls. Or rather she came, and they followed. Head held high, she looked straight ahead, that striped stole hanging about her neck. The others strolled along behind her in little clumps…but they were all talking among themselves, ignoring the woman they had named Amyrlin. Egwene might as well have been alone; she looked alone. Knowing her, she was trying very hard to be what they had named her, and they let her walk alone, with everybody watching.

To the Pit of Doom with them if they think they can treat a Two Rivers woman that way, he thought grimly.

Striding to meet Egwene, he swept off his hat and bowed, making the best leg he knew how, and he could flourish with the best if he had to. “Good morning, Mother, and the Light shine on you,” he said, loud enough to be heard in the village. Kneeling, he seized her right hand and kissed her Great Serpent Ring. A quick glare and a grimace directed at Talmanes and the others, and hidden by Egwene and those behind her, had them scrambling to kneel and call out, “The Light illumine you, Mother,” or some variation. Even Thom and Juilin.

Egwene looked startled at first, though she hid it quickly. Then she smiled, and said softly, “Thank you, Mat.”

Genuinely, this is in my top five Mat moments. Mat is so annoyed with all of his female friends right now, but he sees that Egwene is hurting (both in social standing and personally) and he doesn’t hesitate to step in and support her.

This is now one of the scenes that I will genuinely mourn if it gets cut from the show. Seeing Donal Finn do this would be just fantastic.

[quietstormxr]

Inconsequential

Bodhi Durran x reader

Summary: Bodhi tries to comfort you after you're left feeling inadequate.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Feelings of low self worth and mentions of depression, no real spoilers, Angst/Comfort

Just a little something for Bodhi Week, because we couldn't leave out our soft boy. (At least he is in my mind.)

“Did you see the way I took down Denton today? Seems like all those lessons are finally paying off.” You croon as you sit down at your usual table, directed specifically at Garrick and Xaden. They had been working on your sparring and you’d only hope they were proud of the way you handled yourself.  

Though it isn’t until you pick your head up from sitting down that your brows furrow. Searching the faces around you, Garrick and Xaden are still in a discussion and haven’t even turned their heads. No single inkling on their faces that they even heard you speak or noticed your presence at all. Imogen is talking with Quinn and Bodhi looks enraptured in whatever they are discussing as well. 

As you take in the scene around you, your face falls. This isn’t the first time that you’ve felt yourself passed over, but the way no one even acknowledged your presence had you shrinking in on yourself. 

Knowing the look on your face well, you get up, before even sitting for a full minute. Appetite entirely forgotten, you pick up your tray and head straight for the door. Before you walk completely out, you turn and look back towards the people that you’ve grown accustomed to calling your friends, maybe even family. Eyes meeting the table, you aren’t shocked to see that not a single one of them has even looked your way. 

Dumping your tray, you let your gaze fall as you begin the slog back to your room. You don’t let your head rise the entire time that you walk back. Failure making a home in your bones.

‘You need to speak up. You should never let them dictate your feelings about yourself.’ Dearmad huffs in your mind. 

There’s no reason to respond, this wouldn’t be the first time your bonded would berate you for your feelings of inadequacy and unimportance, and it won’t be the last. Reinforcing your shields, you continue until you hit the end of the hallway of the first years. Shutting out your dragon the only way you feel you can move forward.

Staring at your own door, you can feel the way the tears swim, there’s nothing less you wanted to do than cry. You’d cried more than enough for one lifetime already, but the walls feel like they’re caving in. The fortress you thought you had built around yourself shattering into irreparable pieces.

Opening the door to your room, you don’t even make it to your bed when the tears come in earnest. Your breaths become shallow, and your knees crash to the ground, the weight of being inconsequential settling on your shoulders like a immoveable force. You don’t try to move, you just let yourself curl in, the emptiness in your mind crushing the small seed of hope that had begun to grow over the last few months. 

If someone asked how long you cried, you wouldn’t be able to tell them. You didn’t even rise the next morning when formation came. The knocks on your door emanated, but you just laid there, staring at the beams that crossed your room. Limbs feeling heavy, you don’t move for the next two days. The force of depression holding your limbs down. 

A strong rap of two knocks makes one eyebrow raise. You try to think of who it could be, but there aren’t any names that come to mind. 

“Cadet L/N.” A stern voice calls from the other side of the door. 

You wince knowing that there’s no way to avoid this knock. Trying to comb your hair down with your hands, you walk to the door and open it to see Professor Devera and your wingleader on the other side. 

“You have not been to formation for the last two mornings, cadet.” Devera states, though there’s a softness in her eyes you’ve never seen before as she looks you up and down. “Though I can tell you haven’t been feeling yourself, have you?”

You look back at her in slight confusion, is your professor really going to let you off the hook? She turns her head and looks back towards your wingleader, the only thing you can be thankful for at the moment is that it isn’t Xaden. 

“She will need to have a punishment, as she did not come to command for leave due to illness. However, I believe we can limit its severity.” She finishes before giving a nod to both you and your wingleader and walking back down the hall. 

As you watch her walk away, you catch a glimpse of familiar black curls down the hall before your attention is brought back to your wingleader.

“Looks like it will be dish duty for a week, Cadet L/N.” Septon called as he walked away from your room. Though he surprised you turning around and giving you a small smile. “Next time, let your squad leader know and you can avoid it.”

With a small shake of your head, you pad back into your room and close the door softly. Letting out a large sigh of relief and dread. You don’t even get two steps in before the knock on your door comes, and there’s no doubt in your mind at who is on the other side.

Not wanting to go back to the world yet, you ignore the knocks and sink into your bed, pulling the covers over your head. The knocks sound again, sharper this time, but you just sink further into your bed and close your eyes. 

The dreams hit harder than normal, your mind pulling images of taunts and those who claim to care turning their backs on you. But when you watch your dragon fly away without you, you rise clutching your chest, your heart feeling like it may flutter completely out. 

Feeling the sweat drop down your brow, you rake your hands through your hair, pulling at the untamed mess. Knowing that sleep will not be finding you again any time soon, you take a deep breath and walk to the communal showers.

The halls are quiet now that it’s the middle of the night, but you still take the time to check your surroundings. It’s then you notice the note that was lying on the floor at your feet, the familiar sprawling script adorning the page.

Y/N,

I don’t know what happened, but we all need to know you’re alright. I’ll come check on you again in the morning.

Your Bodhs

You try to reign in the quiet scoff, but it’s out before you can stop it. You shake your head at the note, a wistful feeling leaving you knowing that its always Bodhi. 

Tucking the note on your desk, you head to the bathing chambers hoping to chase away the feelings that have settled over you. The threat of never being good enough biting at your core. As the water begins to warm, you will yourself to drudge up at least one good memory, one instance that will bring a smile back to your face.

When it seems impossible, you shower quickly and turn the taps off, needing some fresh air, something that doesn’t feel like the oppressive weight of Basgiath. Tying your boots tightly, you wrap your cloak over your shoulders and walk towards the clearing, hoping its empty since most of the Tyrs have already been assigned their help. 

As you walk through the tall grass, you let your fingers graze over the strands, the sound of them blowing in the wind bringing a soothing melody. Once you arrive at the familiar oak, you let your back slide against the rough bark and look out towards the moonlit sky and the slightly illuminated town in the distance. 

“Looks like Garrick is going to owe me, just like I thought.” The familiar voice floats over the light hum of the rustling grass.

Turning your head, you watch as Bodhi’s shape continues to come into view.  

“Are you stalking me Bodhi?” You voice comes out harsher than you intended, but it seems to have no effect on the man coming towards you.

“No.” Bodhi replies cooly. “But I do know you rather well, so I’ve been checking out here the last few days.”

Your brows scrunch in confusion at his words. 

“You don’t have to look so disbelieving.” Bodhi continues as he finally sits down next to you, long legs sprawled out and hands resting behind. “I saw the look you gave everyone before dumping your dinner and bolting.”

Your brows now rise in surprise at Bodhi’s revelation. For months you’d been feeling like an outsider in the group, a mere spectator to the stellar show that everyone else provided in the quadrant. 

“People do see you, you know. Even if you don’t feel like it.” You don’t try to hide your scoff at Bodhi’s words.

“Please, if that were the case, then someone would’ve noticed when I spoke to them days ago.” You let the hurt leach into your voice, a bitter taste coating your tongue. 

Closing your eyes at your frustrations, they are startled back open when you feel a warm hand tug against your waist in a bid to move you closer.  “I did notice. And you’re right, you should be proud of the match against Denton.”

Your eyes flare as Bodhi continues to haul you closer to his side, his arms wrapping around your shoulders. 

“Surprised?” Looking into those chocolate brown eyes, you can’t help but admit to yourself that you were. 

“Considering you didn’t breathe a word when I was leaving - yes.” The statement said with a nonchalance you didn’t really feel.

A look of regret passes his face as he squeezes you a little tighter. “I wanted Garrick and Xaden to realize what they had done. But the minute you walked through the door, I regretted not kicking them both under the table.”

There’s no stopping the slight laugh you release at Bodhi’s statement and as you relax, you let your head fall to Bodhi’s shoulder. 

“Why is it always you Bodhi?” You can’t help the question as it leaks out. “Why are you always the one to breathe warmth back into me?”

A contented sigh leaves his lips as you both stare up at the stars. “I don’t know about warmth, but I do know that you should never feel insignificant. You are a treasure to this world and we would be missing too much if we lost your light.”

“Thank you Bodhs.” The words pass you lips on the smallest whisper, the feeling of warmth finally crawling its way back through your veins. 

As you watch the night sky with a small smile, you let yourself snuggle a little closer to the man that always makes you feel everything, except inconsequental.

Taglist: @ilovetomtailor @nevermoresworld @nastylicious @iambored24601 @mysticalfuncollectorus @sadpieceofbread @alwayshave-faith

Divider: @empyreanevents

[pankesitopank]

More thoughts about han eating you out like that jijiji

wc: 1.3k

cw: oral fixation, pussy drunk Han, crack, praise, unhinged behavior.

note: hehe i loved it loll. its kinda short, but i think its good... i hope ya like it :3

It all started completely normal, just the two of you lying in bed watching some series on tv, him with his head lying between your legs, simply enjoying the warmth and softness of your thighs between his head, everything normal, comfortable even, until out of nowhere, like a girl ovulating Han began to grow a need... a dirty need to be between your legs, but not lying down, but with his face buried in your pussy, maybe that need arose from nowhere, from a memory, from a fantasy or from a scene from the series, you don't know exactly because the truth is you weren't even paying that much attention to him or the serie, you preferred to keep yourself entertained with your phone and play with his soft, wavy hair that occasionally tickled the inside of your thighs and part of your lower abdomen.

"babe" he said as he turned around to be lying on his stomach.

You looked at him curiously at the sudden act

"i want to eat you out" he said seriously but with an easily identifiable desire in his eyes.

"what?" you said trying to hold your smile.

"let me eat you out" he repeated without a hint of shame while you felt that familiar twist in your stomach, which more specifically was beginning to have some repercussions in your lower area.

"Hannie, baby... You're so annoying..."

was the first thing that came out of your mouth at the same time that you settled yourself to sit up straight, away from the danger of having his face so close to your most intimate parts, obviously trying to annoy him, although deep down that shameless and ultra horny attitude of his ignited something in you.

"And hungry." He patted your legs and grabbed them, giving you a little tug to get you closer again. "Bon appétit, baby. I'm ready."

You laughed and settled back down, maintaining eye contact and trying to act sexy, just to mess with him. Just to make him shut up. Just to watch his cocky grin flicker.

But the second your core got closer enough to his face, Han changed.

His hands came up and gripped your thighs hard, nails digging in, and he looked up at you with wide, reverent eyes like he'd just seen God.

“Holy shit.”

His voice dropped, hoarse with awe.

“You're not joking. You're actually gonna let me?”

Before you could tease him, before you could say you were just playing around— he closed the distance between his mouth and your pussy.

Mouth open.

Tongue out.

Eyes fluttering shut like it was a holy experience.

At first, you yelped—because Jesus Christ, you weren’t ready for that.

He moaned as your thighs settled around his head, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated right against your core. His tongue wasted no time, everywhere at once—sliding up your slit, dipping inside, curling messily around your clit like he was starving.

“Fuck—Jisung—!”

He groaned again. Arms wrapped around your thighs tighter. Hips shifting beneath you humping the bed. You felt his legs lift—his feet kicking up into the air—and when you glanced down, you nearly laughed.

There he was.

Shoes on.

Legs bent, feet in the air like a damn cartoon character, munching like his life depended on it.

“Oh my god,” you laughed breathlessly, hips twitching. “You’re so fucking stup—"

You didn't even have the chance to finish that little word when an unexpected moan escaped your lips.

He hummed in response. Hummed. On purpose. His whole head shook side to side like he was trying to devour you from every angle, and the vibration of his moan shot straight through your spine.

“Sh’fuckin’ good,” he slurred into you. “Tastes so fuckin’ good, baby, I’m—I’m losing it—”

With one hand you tightly gripped one of your stuffed animals that was left to the side trying to have some kind of grip with the ground, while the other gripped the back of his hair pulling him impossible closer as your thighs trembled against his head. His tongue flicked wildly over your clit, messy and fast, his nose pressing tight against you, and every time you squirmed or gasped or tried to lift off his face, he moaned louder and yanked you back down.

“Nuh-uh.”

His voice was wrecked, drunk with it.

“Don’t run. you stay.”

You looked down and saw him again—completely pussy drunk. Lips soaked, cheeks flushed, eyes barely open as he blinked up at you like you were the sun and the moon, eating you like you were his breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

His feet were still up. Kicking absently.

His tongue was still working—so fast, so messy.

And you laughed again, delirious.

“Jisung, you look so pathetic right now.”

He whined into you, pulling back for just a second to breathe, face glistening with slick.

“Why would you say that?”

His voice cracked.

“That’s so hot.”

You tried to speak again, but he dove right back in. This time slower. Sloppier. Savoring you.

He moved his head in lazy circles, tongue swirling around your clit in drawn-out, wet spirals. The kind that made your toes curl and your thighs shake. You felt him mumble something again—something incoherent—and his fingers squeezed your thighs like he was holding in a full-body shiver.

“Fuckin’ heaven, baby,” he muttered. “Like candy, no, li—like melted sugar—fuck—I could live here. Just move in. Put up curtains and shit—”

You choked on a laugh.

“You’re seriously—talking right now?”

He moaned, shameless.

“Can’t help it. Tastes too fuckin’ good..."

Brain’s gone. All gone. It’s just pussy now. Pussy thoughts only.

You rolled your hips into his face out of pure instinct, and the second you did, his whole body jerked. He let out a sharp cry against you, sucking your clit into his mouth and holding it there with such desperate greed that you almost blacked out.

That was when you realized—he wasn’t teasing anymore.

He was gone. Eyes rolled back, tongue twitching, head tilting side to side, up and down in slow, pussy-worshipping movements while his feet kicked rhythmically in the air.

You reached down to touch his cheek and he shuddered violently, grinding his mouth against you like he was getting off on it.

“You’re gonna make me cum just from this,” you gasped.

His whole body stiffened under you—and then he moaned so loudly it echoed through the room. You felt the deep guttural sound shake through your clit, and your orgasm slammed into you so hard your thighs clamped around his head.

He kept going.

He didn’t even flinch.

He just held you there, face buried, tongue licking you through every pulse and aftershock like he was drinking the orgasm straight from the source.

When you finally get off him, your legs barely working, Han was a wreck.

His face was red. Mouth shiny and swollen. Hair a disaster. Hoodie drenched at the collar. And he was smiling like he’d just seen heaven and was still tasting it.

He blinked up at you dreamily, chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

“...That was so good I think I blacked out.”

You laughed, collapsing on the bed.

He rolled over and immediately nuzzled into your side, face still damp, arms wrapping around your waist like a koala.

“we should do this more often.”

You snorted. “You’re insane.”

He grinned, sleepy and wrecked.

“Insane for you, baby.”

And then, as if it were the most casual thing in the world—

“...Round two after a snack?”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

ngl I got so caught off-guard by Silver's Relaxation Room outfit-

like they just supersized Aurora's face, slapped it onto the sweater and called it a day 😭😭

It doesn't look bad though, the colours are soft and complement each other mostly well. Though now I do wonder what the backstory of it is; correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this is the first time we see a Disney Princess image explicitly in the game, as opposed to vague references/anecdotes?

is she another revered figure, or a famous film character in the in-game universe? I do hope Silver's vignette will acknowledge his PJ origins 😅

I was expecting a sweater on Silver for his Relax in Room card, but not that particular design... I find it sorta ugly (colors are fine, but that design is no for me), but in that somewhat endearing way?? Like how people find ugly Christmas sweaters fun. It also very much fits Silver, who doesn't have much fashion sense (though the voice lines confirm it's a gift from Lilia, which also makes sense, given his penchant for cute, novel items.

And nope! This actually isn't the first time we've seen a Disney Princess depicted outside of references and anecdotes. There has previously been furniture items that outright show the princesses and/or heroes, such as the limited time A Firelit Sky statue, "Fireworks Admirers" (although there is no story or history attached with the statue).

More explicitly, the Platinum Jacket series of vignettes shows multiple Disney princesses and heroes in addition to villains via paintings. Often times, the NRC boys will comment on the artwork and/or talk about a brief story related to it.

The Three Good Fairies appear in Trey's vignettes:

He notes that it is a depiction of "fairies gifting magic to celebrate the birth of a princess of a certain country." However, we cannot see the princess in question from the shot of this painting.

All of the Diasomnia Platinum Jacket cards do feature Aurora in some way though, and 3 out of the 4 of them very clearly show her face. Lilia sees the same painting as Trey did, lamenting that the fairies blessed the princess with beauty and song instead of the strength to break her own curse.

Sebek witnesses a painting of Aurora in her peasant dress, before she learned of her birthright as a princess. He describes the artwork as "a human chatting with some animals [...] about her dreams" and says that he saw this scene in a book his grandfather gifted him.

Malleus sees a painting of Prince Phillip and Princess Aurora dancing at the ball. He recognizes her as "the princess blessed by diurnal fae" but doesn't state more about her history than that. So it seems like the story of Princess Aurora and the Three Good Fairies are recognized to be from the same tale.

Finally, we have Silver, who sees the same painting as Malleus does. He implies the painting is "well-known" and that it depicts a scene from a storybook that he often read as a child. (So both he and Sebek mention seeing this princess in a book; is it the same book, or different books based on the same material?)

Silver also characterizes Phillip as someone who fought bravely. Because of that, he came to admire the prince and aspired to be like him someday.

At this point in time, all that we know about Aurora's standing in the Twst world (not counting anecdotes; these are strictly tied only with visual depictions of her) is:

She is a princess blessed by diurnal fae at her birth

She danced with a brave prince

She speaks with animals about her dreams

Her story is written in books

Aurora must be an important historical figure in some way, as she is depicted multiple times in the Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art alongside the likes of the Great Seven and their henchmen. It's not too strange that she has storybooks about her; we know thanks to Tapis Rouge that it seems normal for people to make creations based on Twisted Wonderland's historical figures. For example, the Fairest Queen has had an animated film and now a live action made in her name and the Card Soldiers were similarly in a children’s book from the Queendom.

In case you were wondering, Silver's Relax in Room vignettes do not talk about the princess or the character depicted on his sweater. It's just the usual bedtime + morning routines and responding to the school survey that have been depicted in all previous Relax in Rooms.