#yesterday was so long and then today was even longer it felt like

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 21 -Night Sky

Sometimes you just need to stop, and breathe

[sgkjd]

psych institutions should be awarded for being the most unfriendly places for nd and mentally ill folk. funnily enough. do they not know what demographic uses their services?

[kerosenee-kisses]

Friend You Can Keep | Zayne

summary: while preparing for final exams, you ask Zayne if he can help you brush up on your knowledge of human anatomy

cw: 18+, mdni, college au, afab reader, loss of virginity, oral sex (receiving), vaginal sex, fingering, lots of kissing, this is literally just self-indulgent love-making

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I started playing lads a few weeks ago after a lot of resistance (I'm afraid of spending money on them!!) I started playing for Sylus but Zayne really came out of nowhere and assumed the role of my husband. I'm obsessed with him!!

In my mind, I wrote this with a five-ish year age gap between Zayne and reader (reader a freshman/sophmore in college, Zayne in the first years of med school). That isn't explicitly stated here so choose your own adventure. I'm also of the opinion that Zayne would make sweet, sweet love to you to the soundtrack of true yearner R&B. Just me?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Songs from your favorite R&B playlist emanate from your roommate’s speaker. You thought listening to the calm crooning from the nest of pillows and blankets that is your bed would help you study. But the music is more effective at lulling you to sleep, as are the sparkling fairy lights strung around the room’s perimeter. Maybe you should suck it up and turn the horrendous, overhead fluorescent lights on for this. Because the words in your textbook swim together the longer you try to focus on retaining them.  

You rub your eyes hard; flashes of color undulate in the darkness of your closed eyelids beneath the pressure of your fingertips. When you open them again, somehow, the words rearrange themselves even more chaotically. It’s like looking for a prophecy in a bowl of alphabet soup. 

“Is it possible I have late-stage dyslexia? Is that a thing?” you ask. 

Zayne chuckles from his place at your desk. “I believe that’s an indication that you need a short break. And right on time, too.” 

The timer on his phone goes off then, which he shuts off before it can complete one full blare of sound. He opens the desk drawer and takes out two candies. One for each of you.  

“A reward for our diligence,” he says as he deposits a sweet into your hand.  

“What? Where did these come from?” you ask as you unravel the foil wrapper. Candy didn’t survive in your dorm room long enough for you to have a stash to dip into for emergencies like today. 

You have two more finals to study for before you can officially begin a much-deserved winter break. Your roommate had been your study buddy up until her first and only final yesterday. She left for home immediately after she’d submitted her exam, having decided that the papers assigned could easily be completed from the comfort of her own home. And while you were so happy for her and not at all jealous, it meant you were short a study buddy.  

But Zayne, always dependable, offered to swing by and study with you when you’d met him for lunch earlier and bemoaned the fact that you would have to stay focused all by yourself. A herculean task if there ever was one.  

“I managed to hide them while you were fiddling with the speaker. Otherwise, I doubt they would have survived more than ten minutes had you seen them.” 

“Don’t be a hypocrite. Your sweet tooth can be just as bad,” you say. 

You observe Zayne as he delicately pops his candy into his mouth, pushes his glasses back up, and continues to study through your break. He has some biochem final to prepare for. While he had told you he felt more than prepared for it before your complaints about being abandoned, he’s sitting here reviewing alongside you all the same. Your heart warms at how thoughtful he is. Sure, he loves to help everyone, but he always goes out of his way for you. Does he go out of his way for anyone other than you? You're too curious.  

So curious, in fact, that you ask without thinking, “Don’t you have a girlfriend? Or someone you’re kinda into?” 

Zayne blinks at you, slow and deliberate like a house cat, then shakes his head. Embarrassment and relief coalesce in your stomach. In an ideal world, you would shut the fuck up and go back to studying too. 

But like the glutton for punishment that you are, you sit up on your knees and keep talking. 

"Oh, ok. Good. Well, not good as in you should die alone but good in the sense that...well...You know what, can I ask you something without you freaking out? Like, you have to promise not to.” 

Zayne swivels in the desk chair. A gift from him to you actually. Ergonomic and expensive, he’d replaced the standard rocking chair that the room was originally furnished with since he was concerned about the health of your spine as your future primary care physician.  

Once he’s facing you completely, he says, “I would prefer not to promise something if I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to follow through. That would not be fair to you.” 

“You know what, you’re right. I’m sorry. You're always calm anyway so I have nothing to worry about. I think.” 

Zayne watches you expectantly as you reach for a plushie to hold. Your mouth feels dry now that his attention’s on you. You’re not sure why you feel so nervous, he normally goes along with your schemes. This won’t be so different, right?” 

“So, I was wondering if maybe you’d be...willing to have sex with me?” The words leave you in one breath. 

Zayne stares at you blankly. You might have successfully broken the most collected person you know.  

“Zayne? Did you hear me? I said would you–” 

“I heard you the first time,” he says. His expression hardly betrays anything, but color spreads across his face, up his ears. If he didn’t have a turtleneck on you imagine his neck would be just as pink. “I apologize. I’m a bit taken aback. I certainly didn’t expect that to be your question.” 

“It’s just feels like everyone my age has lost their virginity already. Obviously, I don’t need to have sex, but I’m intrigued, I guess.  And I don’t want to do it with just anyone. And you’re not just anyone so–” 

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I want to make absolute sure I’m understanding you correctly.” He clears his throat before asking, “You want me to take your virginity?” 

You hug the plushie for dear life. “Well, yeah. You would be my first.”  

Zayne takes a deep breath. You begin to worry about the state of his heart the longer you sit in silence. Because your own is pumping so hard you fear you’ll succumb to cardiac arrest if you’re lucky. Or maybe the earth will miraculously swallow you whole before that happens. You’ll even accept death by wanderer if it means escaping this conversation. 

“May I ask why you wish to lose your virginity to me?”  

Not a flat-out rejection. You can shelf the death wishes for now. 

“Since you’re basically a doctor you know all about anatomy; safe to assume you know how it goes. And you’re hot so...why not?” 

Zayne averts his gaze at your blunt assessment, and you can’t help but tease him a little.  

“I thought we were working on accepting compliments.” 

Zayne smiles faintly but still refuses to face you, “I have to say when it comes to accepting compliments, I’m not very good in front of you. But I suppose there’s a chance for you to teach me.” 

“First lesson starts now. All you have to do is say ‘thank you’ or something.” 

Your breath hitches when his eyes meet yours again. He’s caught you in his gentle yet captivating green gaze. In it, you see acknowledgment of what your relationship to each other could be. A desire to explore a new dimension of intimacy, one that goes beyond childhood friendship. 

“I accept your compliment,” Zayne murmurs. His eyes drift to your slightly parted lips and you feel your skin prickle. 

“This will be an opportunity to learn each other’s bodies together,” he says, almost distracted. He plucks the plushie from your grasp and carefully places it on the back-killing rocking chair beside your desk. “I only hope I can measure up to your expectations." 

“Oh. Ok,” you manage to whisper. You didn’t think he would say no per say, but considering his immediate response you expected a little more resistance to the idea than this. And now you feel nervous, more than you had anticipated. This was your idea after all. 

You go to remove your pajama bottoms, a seemingly imperceptible shake in your hands. But of course, nothing gets past Zayne. He stops you with a reassuring squeeze on your thigh.  

“There’s no rush. This requires ample preparation. I would never want to hurt you,” he says, caresses the hinge of your knee. “Just, let me kiss you for a bit. Like this.” 

Zayne brings the chair up to the edge of your twin xl and gives you a sweet peck. He gives you a few more before he brushes his lips against yours. You follow his lead, revel in the plush feel of his mouth as he kisses you. He rubs his palms along your thighs, squeezing them every so often. His tender touches embolden you as much as they relax you. You hesitantly touch your tongue to his bottom lip and Zayne moans into your mouth. The vibrations of such a gentle yet erotic sound travel through your whole body. You cup his cheeks to pull him closer, and Zayne gladly follows. He rises to his feet and crowds you into the corner of the bed until you’re on your back. He kisses you so thoroughly that you can taste the lingering sweetness of candy on his tongue when he licks into your mouth.  

You slip one hand under his sweater, trace the ridges of his tight abdomen, no doubt the result of all those pull ups he does on the rare occasion you work out together. Zayne’s breath shudders against your mouth and you shiver in response. His receptiveness to your touch makes you desperate to feel even more of him. You grab the hem of his turtleneck and yank it upwards. He pulls away, reluctantly you think, grabs the shirt from between his shoulder blades and tugs it off. The action leaves his glasses askew and you remove them from his face with a giggle. 

“I hope they’re not messed up now,” you say as you carefully put the lenses on yourself. They blur your vision some, but you clearly see Zayne swallow thickly when you smile up at him.  

“I have an extra pair,” he says breathlessly before he removes them and goes right back to kiss you. More of his warmth seeps into you now that he removed his sweater. He presses his thundering chest against yours, and the delicious weight of him renders you pliant beneath him. You smooth your hands along the muscled plains of his back and moan. You can’t think straight in the face of such overwhelming affection. He hasn’t even touched you yet, really, and you already feel so ready for more.  

But for some reason, a pang of guilt lances through your gut. Did you pressure Zayne into this? Are you taking advantage of his goodness, his kindness? You said it yourself, he goes above and beyond for you in all things. You would never forgive yourself if you ever made him do something he didn’t want to.  

“Wait,” you say, and weakly push at his chest.  A gossamer thread of your saliva stretches between both your lips, and your thoughts empty out of your head for a moment. Zayne’s eyes are as unfocused as yours as he looks down at you, cushioned in your fluffy pillows. 

“Are you sure you’re cool with this?” you ask quietly. 

Zayne takes hold of one of your wrists to drop a kiss to your palm that you feel all the way down to your clit. Does he want to kill you? 

“Why don’t you touch me and find out.” 

He most certainly does.  

You gasp when he guides your hand to his hardened length. The fact that you could do this to him with just a few kisses turns you on immensely, makes you feel powerful. You squeeze him gently and he groans. You flick the button of his pants free, but he stops your second attempt at undressing before you can even yank his zipper down. 

“Let me take what I desire first,” he says.  

Zayne carefully unbuttons your pajama top, until your chest is fully exposed to him. You sit up slightly to remove it, and no sooner is it off than Zayne starts to knead and kiss at your breasts. He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth and you arch into him, mewling at the spike of pleasure that zings through you. He licks and teases it into a stiffened peak while he pinches and rolls the other between his fingers.  

Once your nipples are wet and taut from his ministrations, Zayne trails deep kisses down the center of your spasming stomach. He grasps the waistband of your pants and tugs them down along with your underwear.  

While most guys would look at you with lust clouding their gaze, Zayne looks at your naked body like he loves it. It’s enough to make you feel sheepish.  

Zayne fits his broad shoulders beneath your slightly spread thighs and puts his mouth to your dripping core. You’re so stunned by the sight of his head between your legs that your brain goes fuzzy. Obviously, no one has kissed you here before. But you’d still be inclined to say that even if the opposite were true. Zayne full on makes out with your pussy. He licks and sucks at your clit with the sole purpose of making you cum hard. And your entire body sings with ecstasy.  

He eases his index finger inside of your wet heat and you whimper at the intrusion. He searches for that spongy patch inside of you that has your back surging upward. Zayne coaxes more of your arousal out of you with his tongue on your clit and his finger massaging the soft walls of your cunt. You feel strange, like you need release, but you’re almost terrified. Your thighs close around Zayne’s head and he groans into your sex. The sound vibrates through you until you’re a quivering mess. 

Zayne blindly reaches for one of your hands and squeezes. He licks and kisses you as you cum on his beautiful face with a loud cry of his name. He laps up as much of your essence as he can, and you twitch and whine all the while. 

Your back falls onto the mattress once you come down from your high, the first orgasm that someone else has ever given you. You lift yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. He kisses your thighs, your hip bones, back up along your stomach so earnestly. 

 Zayne settles himself over you again and now pumps two of his long, elegant fingers inside of you. They curl against your sweet spot with the skill and precision of a surgeon, and you moan his name. When his thumb swipes at your clit you cum for him again, still so sensitive from your last climax. He kisses you through it. The taste of yourself is a little strange, but you don’t hate it. You deepen the kiss as you cum around his fingers. You didn’t think you could cum again so quickly, but Zayne is nothing if not efficient.  

He removes his fingers from you so he can lay in between your twitching thighs. He rolls his clothed hips into your bare ones, and you meet his thrusts readily. The friction of his pants against your clit makes you feel delirious. Enough to remember what you had first asked of him.  

“Zayne,” you sigh as he moves to kiss your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “Do you have a condom?” 

He exhales against your ear; you just barely hold in a whimper. 

“No, unfortunately. I haven’t had a need for them before now…I suppose we’ll have to reschedule,” he says, but makes no move to pull away from you.  

“No! It’s ok!” You wince at your frantic tone. Way to go, Desperate. “I, um, grabbed a handful from the resource center before you came here. They’re in my bag.” 

While he had thoughtfully replenished your stash of candy, you had shoveled way too many condoms into your backpack only an hour after your lunch date with him. Now he’ll probably think you're some sex-crazed degenerate or something. How embarrassing. 

Regardless, you feel a teeny, tiny thrill at the knowledge that he doesn’t have any on him.  

Zayne nods, presses one lingering kiss to your lips and goes to retrieve a condom from your backpack. You feel even more embarrassed when he returns with one embossed with a heart and the words ‘wrap it before you tap it.’ He doesn’t seem to pay much attention to that, however. Zayne removes his pants and his boxer briefs. His hard cock springs up against his abs and your mouth waters at the sight of it. Long and flushed and too pretty, you think. He settles back into bed, kneels in between your spread legs and tears the wrapper open.  

You watch, wide eyed, as he rolls the latex over the glistening head and down the length of his cock. He lines himself up with your stretched entrance and makes eye contact with you. Despite the heat pulsing through your veins, you shiver. This does not go unnoticed.  

“Anxious?” Zayne asks. He runs his fingers up and down your arm. Slow touches that soothe your frayed nerves. A reassurance, a reminder that he won’t let you feel anything you wouldn’t absolutely enjoy.   

“Only a little,” you admit, “but I trust you more than anyone, so I think I’m more excited than anything.” 

Zayne smiles down at you, small and sweet. You feel even more shy now.  

“You know we can stop at any time,” he says even though his cock is straining against the condom. “You need only tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” 

You place a hand on his smooth cheek and smile up at him. His breath leaves him on a shaky exhale.  

“I know that Zayne. Thank you. But I think I’m ready now.”  

There’s a slight discomfort. A foreign pressure, a pinch, that he lets you acclimate to. There’s so much tension in his body as a result. You can’t help but feel endeared by how considerate he is of you always. Especially now.  

He places his palm on your belly, and you jolt.  

“Try to relax your muscles,” he says. 

You slow your breaths, try to do as he says until the fullness of his cock feels less invasive, almost comforting. You focus on the intimacy of this moment, of your bodies connecting. Of him being the first person to ever give you pleasure of any kind.  

“Mmm, good, just like that,” he groans. Who knew a voice could get you so hot. And not just his voice, those green eyes of his. He stares down at you so intensely you feel like you’ll melt into a puddle. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask meekly.  

“You’re beautiful,” he states as certainly as he would a fact.  

You hide your face behind your hands and whine for him to stop. Zayne laughs lowly and pulls your hands away. 

“You helped me accept a compliment earlier,” he says, kisses one wrist. “And even teased me for being nervous.” A kiss to the other. He rests them on the back of his neck and regards you with an almost mischievous smile. 

“Now it’s my turn to return the favor. Say ‘thank you’.” 

Your chest is heaving. You can’t believe how seductive he’s being. And so effortlessly, too. Where did this side of him come from?  

He lowers his face into your neck and all the air in the room vanishes when he kisses it.   

“Won’t you accept my compliment? Or should I continue to tell you how lovely I find you? Say that your beauty is beyond measure? That you are my greatest treasure.”  

Zayne lightly sucks on your pulse point. How does he expect you to speak? You can hardly function as is. 

“I’m not nearly as patient as you think I am.” He nips at your neck, and you tense up.  

“Thank you!” you yelp. 

You feel his lips pull into a grin. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it? Or should I give you more compliments so you can practice?” 

“Y-you can move now!”  

Zayne kisses under your ear before he pulls his hips back and slowly grinds into you. His pelvis meets your sticky clit every time your bodies meet. He thrusts into you until your moans and sighs fill the humid air between you both. 

You experimentally squeeze around his cock as he pulls away from you and he moans in concert with you.  

“Did you want to see my like this?” he asks, voice hoarse as his cock pushes deeper into you. You arch up against him, your nipples grazing his chest. Zayne dips his head to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth again, sucking and biting at it affectionately. You wrap your legs around his trim waist and try to pull him even closer to you. He’s making you feel so good that you can hardly stand it. All you can focus on is Zayne. The way he fits so perfectly between your legs, the feel of his biceps under your hands. His crisp, clean scent sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You want even more of him.  

You bury your hands in his hair, thick silk between your fingers, and tug. Zayne pulls off your breast with a wet pop and kisses you. He plasters his chest to yours as he rolls his hips into you. Your walls tighten up around him and he grits out your name. He wraps his arms around your waist tight and fucks into you so deep that you swear you see stars. So bright that you clench your eyes shut as pleasure takes hold of your whole body. It’s an ecstasy like no other.  

“I love you, Zayne. I love you,” you babble mindlessly as you cum harder than before. 

Zayne moans and ruts into your body erratically, desperately, until he seizes up and cums with you. Maybe you’re too caught up in the romantic atmosphere you accidentally created– sultry love ballads and low lighting–but you almost wish he had painted your walls instead of the condom.  

He looks ethereal as pleasure contorts and relaxes his features, his muscles. Zayne takes your face between his hands and kisses you hungrily. Like he’ll never have another opportunity to. You’ll make damn sure that’s not the case.  

"I adore you,” he says before he steals another kiss and your breath along with it. You both grip and pull at the other as if you could get any closer. You want to nestle in the marrow of his bones, dwell in the cavern of his heart. 

“I want you to be mine. Only mine,” you whisper between kisses. 

“I have always been yours. Only ever yours.” 

[abbyandersxnswife]

Look for the Light ── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Canon Abby! x reader; apocalypse au!

Synopsis: You and Abby used to be best friends back in the Fireflies, but after her trip to Jackson, she makes it clear she no longer wants to be friends. If anything, she doesn't seem to even like you anymore. However, her actions keep stating otherwise...

Warnings for; Smut, switch Abby! Follows timeline of TLOU2

Word count: 3.9k

✦ ───────────────────── ✦

You didn't know Abby Anderson.

At least, not anymore.

Now she was just Issac's top Scar killer, another soldier in the WLF, another person like any other.

You arrived at Soundview Stadium a few months ago with a few other WLF soldiers, your patrol unit finally moving in after guarding a post near the Seraphites Island.

You still remembered the day you first ran into Abby again, surprised to see her returning from the lodge up in Jackson.

You didn't know how high she had climbed in the ranks with Issac then, all you knew then was that your old best friend was standing in front of you, walking with Owen and Mel- and you nearly knocked her over when you ran to give her a hug, burying your face in the crook of her neck, never so glad to smell the familiar scent of pine and vanilla. Abby had been strangely stiff, patting you awkwardly on the back like you hadn't spent nearly two years with her in the Fireflies.

Seeing her gave you hope, hope that you two could talk and make up for lost time, finally have some companionship- but that hope was quickly dashed when Abby made it clear to you that she didn't want that at all.

She had said it later on when you two were alone, your things finally unpacked in the tiny room. You had tried to ask her how she was doing, how Jackson went, if she was alright, but it all fell on deaf ears.

"Listen y/n..."

Abby had said, pausing for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck. It was as if she knew this wasn't a good idea, that the next words were words she couldn't take back.

"I don't think we should be friends, I know we used to be but that was a long time ago- I'm just not the person you used to know."

You had been hurt then, hoping she'd give you more of a reason, but Abby was silent, her once bright blue eyes cold and dim.

If Abby Anderson no longer wanted to be friends, if she wanted to pass by you in the hall like you didn't once know every detail about each other - fine.

Fine by you.

-

"Y/n?"

You opened your eyes groggily and opened the door to see Nora standing in the threshold.

"Hey, Issac wants you to report to him- says he's got the details for your latest mission"

You smiled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Thanks, Nora, I'll be there in a sec"

You threw on some clothes before heading out, making your way up to Issac's office.

"Hey-"

You pushed open the door and saw Abby, Manny, and Issac already waiting for you, and felt your heart drop into your stomach at the sight of her.

"Ahhh, y/n there you are, now we can get started. A rogue group of Seraphites attacked a patrol yesterday down by the Eastbrook area- I want you guys to go in and sweep to make sure they're all gone. Bring any supplies you find back." Issac pointed to the map on the table for emphasis.

"Y/n, I know you haven't been on a mission with these two before but trust me, they're good. I can get your old crew for a different mission another time"

"No problem Issac, I can work with anyone"

"Great," Issac said before continuing, "When you return, we'll start drafting our plans to invade the Seraphites' Island, we can take the boats and see if we can defeat them on home territory."

Your gaze immediately darted to Abby, wondering what she thought of the news, but she only stared stubbornly ahead.

"Grab something to eat and then head out, take the truck, Manny."

"Alright, let's go guys"

Manny left, and you watched Abby leave as well, trailing behind them, sighing inwardly at the day ahead of you. Today's mission was gonna be a long one.

-

"The Seraphites have been growing bold lately"

Manny broke the silence, seemingly oblivious to the tension that lay between you and Abby.

The back of the truck was snug, Manny and Abby on one side, you on the other. Abby was looking anywhere but your face it seemed, and you sat there quietly, pretending like you weren't sneaking glances whenever you got the chance. After all, this was the closest you had been to her in years.

To be fair, you both equally avoided each other at base- she didn't want anything to do with you, so why would you bother with her?

"Yeah well they broke the treaty, if any of them are at Eastbrook we wipe the site and leave"

The air is chilly when you step out, you adjust your jacket and flip the safety off your gun.

"School looks deserted, but best if we just do a patrol of the site just to be sure. Abby, go with her, patrol the inside, I'll do a grounds check first"

Manny walks off, gun in hand, already entering an old school bus parked in front of the school.

"Come on" Abby says, and you follow her as she prys open the front door.

The interior of the school is a mess, the wallpaper of the walls peeling, desks pushed half hazardly into the hall. Sad shreds of streamers hang from the ceiling, every window smashed, the shards glistening on the floor.

You enter a classroom, pushing the door open with your gun.

Your eyes light up at the greenery inside, the schooldesks covered in a bed of moss, ivy hanging from holes in the ceiling.

"It's beautiful-" You say to yourself, bending down to pick up the remainders of the kids' drawings on the ground. You examine one, it's a picture of a house with what looks to be a horse-

"Can you stay focused? We're supposed to be looking for supplies"

Abby's voice cuts sharply through the silence, the only sound the rifling she's causing by searching through the desks.

You sigh and help her, retrieving a roll of bandages and a few packs of old batteries before moving onto the next room.

Abby finds the cafeteria at the end of the hall, and the old shelves of the cafeteria pantry prove to be quite sparse, with nothing but some old bean cans that Abby takes anyway. She's still acting like you don't exist, so you've got a whole lot of time to examine your surroundings.

You hear a creak while searching through the cupboards and pause, listening for footsteps.

"Do you mind moving a little quicker? Maybe your old patrol did things slower, but I'd like to get back to base sometime soo-"

"Shut up!" You whisper harshly, cutting her off.

Abby looks offended, finally training her gaze on yours, but your eyes dart away to the doors of the cafeteria.

"What?"

Abby asks, watching you.

You hear it again, a second creak. You push Abby up against the wall by the lapels of her jacket, her blue eyes wide with surprise. Her gaze darts down to your lips for a second before her arms come up to pull yours off.

"Woah y/n- what are you-"

A loud bang interrupts Abby's next words, the double wooden doors of the cafeteria slamming open as five Seraphites rush in.

"Seraphites!" You yell, dragging Abby down with you to avoid the gunfire.

Abby breaks out of your hold, punching the nearest Seraphite in the face as you shoot the second. The third Seraphite comes running at you, tackling you to the ground, slamming your wrist against the concrete floor. A sharp pain runs through your arm, and you watch as he kicks your gun out of reach. You grapple on the floor together, kicking as he attempts to strangle you, worried about Abby- before a loud gunshot rings out and the Seraphite's body slumps over you.

Abby stands over you, one hand extended. You take it.

The other two Seraphites lay dead on the ground, bodies riddled with bullets. You brush yourself off, but the ache in your arm is making itself more evident.

"Thanks"

Abby hands you your gun but her brows furrow at the way you cradle your left arm gingerly.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

You feign nonchalance as best you can.

"Yeah.. but my arm might not be"

Abby hesitates for a moment, but reaches out and examines your arm. Her touch is soft, a strange contrast to the stoic way she's been acting this whole mission.

"I think medical should check you out" Abby says, clearing her throat. "Come on we should head back to the truck."

Abby steps back and pushes open the doors. You follow her out.

-

Medical let you go with a brace for the minor fraction on your left arm. You felt miserable, first mission back in the field and injured- you wouldn't be cleared to go on another for at least another few weeks.

You sat slumped against a bookshelf in the library, half hazardly reading "City of Thieves" by David Benioff, ignoring the dull ache in your arm. You'd been doing this for at least a week now, hiding out from prying eyes.

"Y/n?"

Your eyebrows raised at the sound of Abby's voice, and even further when she came over, standing awkwardly in front of you.

"How's your arm?"

Abby asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"It's fine, I guess," You replied. "Just reading to pass the time. Medical ordered I "take it easy" for the next two weeks." You rolled your eyes at the last part. The corners of Abby's mouth twitched, as if she was holding back a smile, but you were sure it was a trick of the light.

"That sucks.. what are you reading?"

Much to your surprise, Abby sat down next to you, one muscular arm reaching over your lap to grab your book.

"Hey, City of the Thieves? I'm reading this one right now- no spoilers"

She held up a finger in warning, and you smiled at her attempt to joke.

"Yeah, yeah" You waved her away.

A beat of silence stretches between you, and you work up the courage to break it.

"So.. what did you come here for? We both know it wasn't just to talk about books"

"I.." Abby looked at the floor, picking at the fabric below. "I wanted to apologize for what I said a few months ago.. and how I've been treating you ever since. I'm sorry"

Abby stops to look up at you, and you take the opportunity to study her. Her cheekbones are a little sharper. There's a healing cut across her cheek that hadn't been there before. Her rosy cheeks, full lips, and clear blue eyes- they're the same.

She's still your Abby, somewhere.

But the hurt you felt then, the lack of company you've had, the loneliness you've felt? It's also there, somewhere.

"Why'd you do it then?"

You ask, and Abby's eyes drop back to the floor. She's silent for so long you're sure she's going to just leave, but she answers.

"I thought I'd feel better after I found the guy who killed my dad in Jackson... but, I don't."

You inhale at her admission, eyes searching for hers as she meets your gaze. The softness she finds in yours prompt her to press on,

"I feel like nothing makes me happy anymore, I still wake up every night from reoccuring nightmares about him- and I've pushed a lot of people away because of how angry I feel. Angry that he's left me, angry that killing the one guy I trained for 4 years to fight to avenge him didn't make me feel better, angry that I've fucked up in every relationship with anyone I care about because of it-"

Abby runs her hands through her hair, smoothing down the stray strands of hair in her braid.

"Y/n, I pushed you away because I care about you. I was being fucking stupid back then- and every time after. I wanted to be near you so much but I felt like I didn't deserve it. I'm not a good person. You deserve someone better than me"

Abby hung her head and stood up, ready to accept whatever you had to say.

"That's up to me to decide Abs."

You said softly, and Abby looked up in surprise. She felt both shock and happiness when you hugged her, and for a second she stood still. Was she allowed to have this? To have you, even for a moment?

Abby hesitated for a moment, before burying her face in your hair, pressing you closer to her.

She never wanted to lose you again.

-

The next few weeks passed by in a blur, your arm healing up just fine. You and Abby spent a lot of time together- eating together in mess hall, going for walks around the crop fields- she helped keep your mind off the itch you felt to get back out.

Lately though, Abby had been acting a little strange, spending more time in the gym, off walking Alice or talking to Manny more than she usually did. You assumed it was nothing though, after all, what else could it be?

"Did you hear? Issac's gonna do a large-scale attack on the Seraphites Island, Manny and Abby got instructed to lead the assault with their chosen squads."

You overhear Nora talking to Mel on your way to mess hall, and your eyebrows furrow. You remember Issac talking about invading the Seraphites back when, but Abby hasn't mentioned it to you at all. Before you have more time to think about it further, Abby arrives and hands you a still warm burrito.

"Hey y/n, brought you breakfast"

Abby smiles at you, and you smile back despite the worry at the back of your mind. She would tell you, wouldn't she?

"Wanna go for a walk?" Abby asks, but you shake your head. You're due for a visit to Medical- you hadn't been needing your arm brace and was sure that with a medical note Issac would dispatch you to assignments again.

The Medical Bay turned out to be quite empty, so you're out with the note clutched in your hand in no time.

You head up to Issac's, past the cells holding Seraphites, and knocked politely on the interrogation door. Issac emerged a dew seconds later.

"Y/n? Oh, a medical note"

While Issac read, you inquired about the rumor you'd heard at breakfast, trying your best to seem casual.

"Abby and Manny are leading the squads in the assault on Seraphites Island right? Would I be able to join them?"

Issac looked surprised,

"You'd have to ask them, they get first pick of who they'd like, then I'll form the rest of the squadrons. Why don't you talk to Abby? I'm surprised she didn't ask you already, I told her about it weeks ago."

Issac's words ring in your ears as you make your way down to Abby's room. You knock on her door for a second before you burst in.

Abby's shirt is off, her dark grey tank laid out on the bed. She's in the middle of drying her wet hair when she sees you come in. You can't help but stare- at her abs, at her white bra, at her unbuttoned dark green cargo pants- and ignore the flutter in your stomach.

You wrench your gaze away.

"Y/n?! What's wrong?"

Abby moves towards you, but you put a hand out. Her cheeks flush when she realizes what she's wearing, or the lack thereof, and bends down to grab her shirt.

"I got cleared from Medical! And uh.. Issac told me you and Manny are leading squads for the invasion against the Seraphites?"

You say, addressing the ceiling.

"Oh.." Abby says, trailing off. She slips on her tank top, stalling.

"I.. I only just found out," Abby lies, "I haven't decided who I want for the squadron yet-"

"You just found out?" You say, angry at her blatant lie. "Don't lie, I know Issac asked you weeks ago"

Abby's tone is defensive,

"Did you ask him behind my back?"

"When were you planning to tell me?" You shoot back, "Were you planning to tell me?"

Abby backtracks at your words, rambling. Her hands raise, like she's guilty of a crime.

"I was- I swear I was, I would have asked you to be on the squadron but your arm was still healing and-"

"Why didn't you just tell me? Forget picking me to be on your squadron, I don't care about that- were you just gonna leave and not tell me? Let me wonder if you fucking died or not?"

Abby's eyebrows raise in alarm, realizing her misstep at identifying what was making you so upset. She sits down, wiping her sweaty hands on her cargos.

"No- y/n, I promise I would have told you, I just didn't want to ruin the peace we were building- and honestly I'm sure I'll be fine, I've done tons of patrols-"

You shake your head-

"Be honest. This is just another way of pushing me away, isn't it? Have you been having nightmares again? Why can't you just be honest with me, what's going on?"

Abby's face breaks, the flicker of conflicting emotions clear to you for a moment. She warrs against touching you, but loses the internal battle. She pulls you closer to her position sitting on the edge of the bed, hands caressing the back of your thighs, unsure of if it's reassuring you or her.

"The nightmares... they never stopped." Abby takes a breath before continuing, "And.. Owen's missing, his patrol partner Danny was found dead," Abby explains, "I keep pushing you away because it hurts that I might lose you. What if Owen's dead? What if that was you next? I don't want to lose you."

Your eyes soften at her words,

"Abs, I'm sure Issac's got people out looking for Owen... and you won't lose me. I may not be as seasoned as you are, but I held my own just fine at the Seraphite outpost for months. Besides, if I go with you, you'll be there to watch my back."

You reach out and cradle her face, stepping a little closer, now stood directly between her legs.

Abby hugged you around the waist, hiding her face in your sweater, voice a little muffled.

"Issac said Owen is a traitor- that he killed Danny to protect.. a Seraphite. I told him it wasn't true, that there was no way he'd do that, that if I could just look for him I'd bring him back- but Issac refused. He wouldn't let me look for him."

Abby looks up at you, a mixture of grief and worry plain on her face. A stray tear rolls down her cheek and you brush it away.

"You're all I have left y/n." Abby whispers.

You crumble like putty in her hands, biting your plush lip as you look at her. Abby felt like she was going to explode.

This whole time, Abby's thought the way she felt about you was one-sided. Even when she was busy pretending to no longer care about you, even when she was staring straight head walking past you in the halls, even that damn school during your first mission together- a bit of her always longed for you.

She had tried to chalk it up to the fact she missed her best friend over the years, that she had a stupid girl crush in her teens, but these past few weeks only served to prove her wrong.

So, when you lean into her, Abby can't resist. She feels like she's lost everything- her dad, Owen- and you're all she has left. Can anyone blame her for acting on what she wants, just once?

Abby pulls you into her lap just as your lips crash into hers, both of you reaching for the other.

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you kiss Abby, her large hands gently pressing you closer at the small of your back, and your hands tangle in her hair.

You can't get enough of her, hands pulling up her shirt, running your fingertips over her midriff as she shivers at your touch.

"Y/n? We don't have to do anything if you don't want to-"

You cut Abby off with a firm kiss as you push her over.

"Abs, I want to. I want you"

Abby grins at your words, and pulls you down into her for another kiss. Her hands guide your hips as you grind down on her, moaning into her mouth.

Abby thinks this is the closest she'll get to heaven, and flips you both over, her body pressed up against yours.

"I'm glad- I've wanted you for so long" Abby says, kissing down your neck, moving your shirt aside for easier access. You moan as she leaves hickies on your chest, her hands already undoing your pants, fingers dipping down into you.

"Oh baby, you're so wet for me"

Abby's voice is huskier than you've ever heard it, and you feel yourself get even wetter at her words. She rubs your clit with her thumb as she slips two fingers in, fucking you at a quick pace.

"Abs-" You choke out, hands reaching for her.

Abby smiles, love clear on her face.

"You sound so pretty y/n"

You pull at Abby's hair and she sucks at your nipples as she fucks you. You're sure there will be hickies all your neck come tomorrow.

"Fuck, Abs I'm gonna-"

"Come for me"

You come, shaking in her arms. Abby sucks her fingers clean, grinning at the brilliant shade of red you turn in response. You pull her in for another kiss before murmuring,

"Your turn"

Abby sheds her cargos, climbing back onto the bed. You slide your fingers through her wet folds, eliciting a sigh from her as you sink two fingers in, curling them to hit her gspot. You're maintaining a regular pace when Abby speaks up,

"That feels so good- but can you add another?"

You blink, but smirk as you obey her request. You speed up your pace, three fingers disappearing in her dripping cunt quickly, Abby's whimpers growing louder with every thrust.

"Fuck- y/n, I'm gonna come-"

Abby whimpers as she comes, growing tight around your fingers as she grips the headboard above your head.

You smile at her, sucking your fingers as payback for her earlier stunt, and she just laughs, rich and warm.

"I'm glad we both feel the same way about each other" Abby says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I think we always have" You admit, hands cradling her face before drawing her in for another kiss. Abby's eyes are relaxed, her grin wide. You continue, smiling softly-

"You won't lose me, Abs. You never have, and you never will."

✦ ─────────────────────────── ✦

[ramp-it-up]

... As Hard as I Did

Photo credit

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Now he knows he wants more than just one night with you, so much more. Do you feel the same?

Word count: 1.9K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after KYD IV, but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Bucky is in love. The angst! The fluff! The morning after! Bucky wakes you up the best way he knows how, thorough female receiving oral sex, edging, manual sex, teabagging, squirting, nipple play, begging, use of Daddy, bukakke, cum play, Bucky cooks for you, google translate Romanian, the "L" word, allusions to cock riding.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

James Bucky Barnes had slipped and fallen in love.

Steve was so right.

It came out of the blue last Monday when he met with you about a painting, and here he was the very next Sunday morning, holding you in his arms. The ruse of him being a fully legitimate art dealer and not a crime boss had been quickly done away with by the media and your friends, and the fantasy of wooing you met the reality that you did not come to play.

You called Bucky on his bullshit and that made him fall even harder for you. He was honest about his plan to go legit and careful with your feelings, not immediately turning to physicality as he did with every other woman. There was something special about you that was worth the wait.

The five days had been an eternity for both of you, and Bucky had been like a teenager, unable to last very long. He was determined to set that right today, and also to tell you how he felt.

Bucky Barnes knew very little fear, but wondering if you returned his feelings was shaking him to the core.

He held to his original dream of making you smile at him forever, but those dreams had grown to thoughts of a life together, a home you could build together, and the thought of what kids together might look like.

Bucky smiled and held you closer as you snuggled deeper into his embrace and threw your leg over his hip. He caressed the soft skin of your thigh as he argued with himself. He was too old for this; he would be an old man when your kids were just going to college, but that didn’t stop him from making Steve go with him to Cartier yesterday after your event.

Steve grumbled, but he was still smitten with you from his conversation with you yesterday, so he didn’t protest the 5 carat purchase that Bucky made. His best friend just asked Bucky some pertinent questions like:

Had Bucky told you that he loved you?

Did you love him?

Did you even want to get married? To a criminal?

Did you want to have kids with Bucky?

Bucky just stared at Steve, creating the opportunity to goad him.

“But all that aside. If you don’t lock her down, I just might. I’ll close the deal swiftly.”

That left Bucky’s blood to boil while he prepared for dinner last night, but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, every negative vibe left his vicinity.

And now, you were here, warm and beautiful, and naked, in his grip. He was going to take full advantage of the few hours you might gift him today. He didn’t want to risk you running away after he told you his feelings.

He lifted your thigh and positioned himself most where he needed to be.

—--

You moaned in your sleep. You dreamed that Bucky was eating you out again, but you couldn’t quite feel his kisses and slurps to your folds, only whispers of sensation, like air. It was so frustrating, so you grabbed Buckys’ hair and scratched his scalp, trying to encourage him to be rougher.

He moaned and you smiled, calling his name.

“James, please….”

Your eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliarity of Bucky’s bedroom in the morning light. Your legs were spread wide and Bucky’s head was pillowed on your thigh, his hot breath teasing your pussy. 

“What are you doing?”

You looked down to see him staring at your most intimate parts and smiling.

“Mmmm. Good morning Frumoasă. I’m about to check an item off my long list of what I want to do to you…”

He pursed his lips and softly kiss your lower ones. You shivered and continued playing in his hair. You laughed, music to Bucky’s ears. He smiled up at you.

“Oh, so you have a list, do you?”

“Yes, an extensive one at that. I will show you later, but right now…��

Bucky moved to kneel and shoved his hands under your ass, serving you up to him as on a platter. His eyes moved from your fluttering cunt up your soft belly and your beautiful breasts to your face. He leaned forward to give you a sound smack on the lips.

“I was wondering if I was going to get a good morning kiss.”

That eyebrow arched and he moved down your body again.

“That’s all in my plan, Frumoasă. Just be patient. ”

You pulled Bucky’s hair as his long, thick tongue licked through you to your soul. You shuddered and Bucky smiled, then those lips took hold of your clit and sucked ruthlessly as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, the squelch of your wetness so gloriously obscene. He stopped and just pumped those fingers inside you, listening.

“Hear how wet you are for me? It’s a dream come true.”

You reached with grabby hands for him to stimulate your clit as all he did was fuck you with his fingers and hold you open for him. You were on the edge of madness. And it seemed that was where Bucky wanted you.

“Jamie….”

“Atât de nerăbdătoare Frumoasă. savurați momentul.”

Somehow, you knew he was telling you to wait. 

“Please, please, please James. Eat your pussy please!”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his head. You begging was his weakness, what he wanted to hear from since day one. Then he realized what you’d said.

“... Did you say… that this pussy was mine?”

You smirked at him, feeling the brat.

“Maybe…”

Bucky frowned and slapped your clit, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to roll up your spine and wetness to gush out over his fingers.

“Ow! Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours, Daddy, please eat it.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and his cock, which was hard against his abdomen, jumped.

“Seems you know the magic words, Frumoasă.” 

Bucky rewarded you with his mouth clamped over your clit and his eyes locked on yours as you watched his tongue working in his jaw. He was eating you out like a professional. You arched into his face, clit hart and throbbing, ready to give him…

He pulled away as you gasp/screamed in outrage, then whimpered and pouted.

“Please Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re ruining me, I can tell. But tell me, Frumoasă, tell me…”

He regarded you now with a new possessiveness. Impossibly, it made you wetter.

“What else of yours is mine?”

You squirmed under his attention and he rewarded you with another finger in your cunt and all three curled against that electric spot within you.

“What about this ass?”

His pinky bullied into your tighter hole, and you arched as he leaned down to suck your clit like saltwater taffy.

“Oh shittttttt! Yes! Fuck yessss.”

Bucky was grinding his cock against the sheets now, possessed by the sight, taste, and feel of you in his hands. He could actually taste that you were close now, and he wanted it almost as much as you did, but he abandoned you again. He looked up at your body.

“What about those glorious tits?”

He reached up to pluck both of them of them ruthlessly over and over as he continued to finger fuck you. His breath was ragged and his face a mask of desire, but he still had a modicum of control.

“They are next on my list.”

“W-what do you mean?” 

You were thrilled and scared at the same time.

“Nu-ți face griji pentru ea frumos, doar ai răbdare.”

And his face was busy again between your legs, which were shaking around his ears. He held one down with one hand as he fucked you with the other.

“Shit, Daddy! I’m gonna….fuck! I’m gonna…”

Bucky nodded and looked up at you, then he told you to cum with his fingers and you shattered, gushing into his mouth and all over his bed.

Bucky leaned up and groaned as he played in your wetness, using that hand to begin to jack himself over your shuddering body.

“Can I come all over you, Frumoasă?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky groaned and then manhandled your nipples.

“Cum all over me, Jamie.”

Then he roared as you moved so that you could suck his balls.”

“Holy, shhhhhhitttttttt!”

You were circling your own clit as the first hot drops of his cum sprayed over your already heated body. You came one more time as he focused on your breasts and left a hot, sticky mess all over you.

Your eyes were closed as your shivered because Bucky’s hot mouth was sucking his spend off your nipples. He alternated between kisses, bites, and laps against your skin.

“James! Gotdamn! I–”

“I know, I know, Frumoasa. But I can’t get enough...suportă-mă, iubito…”

—---

Later that Sunday, around noon, you sat, twice showered, marked, edged, and fucked to within an edge of your life as you ate the brunch that Bucky made you. You were ensconced in one of his plain white tee shirts and some of his boxer briefs and socks, and he was looking at you hungrily.

You laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky smirked, happier than he’d been in a good while.

“Do you want more…?”

Despite the debauched things you’d spent the morning doing, you blushed and looked down at your plate. You felt like a slut. But in a good way. You loved sex with Bucky. It seemed like even his pleasure was focused on you. It was unlike any other relationship you’d ever had.

“I’m sorry. Do you regret it?”

Bucky stopped eating and tipped your head up by your chin with his fingers. He looked worried and you melted. You bit your lip and decided to go for it.

“No. Because I love you.”

Bucky’s fork clattered to his plate and his eyes grew wide while your bright smile faded. Then he frowned.

“Fuck.”

He looked mad.

“I- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, just forget that I said that.”

“No! Shit…”

Bucky grabbed your head and kissed you, the strawberries and cream from the waffles flooding your senses as his tongue found yours. When he was done, he grinned at you.

“I was pissed for a second, but not at you. What you just said is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you, too and here you are, saying it first.”

You rolled your eyes, although your soul soared. You pulled away and took another bite of food.

“It’s not a competition, James.”

You said it through a full mouth.

“Hmmmm. Maybe not. But I do love you more.”

He took another, bigger bite of food and you shook your head at him.

“You are insufferable.”

Bucky grinned.

“Get used to it if you’re gonna be my girl.”

“Your girl? Oh?”

Bucky wiped his mouth, then picked you up and placed you on his lap.

“Y/N L/N. I love you. And I want to figure this thing out between us. I want you to be my girlfriend while I figure out how to be the best man for you. Then maybe… “

You stopped him with your finger on his lips.

“Listen. One step at a time, Jamie. I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You are the best man for me. My man. I’m along for the ride.”

Bucky kissed you, then stood up and threw you over his shoulder as he moved to his couch.

“Speaking of riding. There’s my list to attend to.”

You screamed and laughed as Bucky slapped your ass. 

——

Next part Here!

All feedback is golden, babies! Let me know how you feel. ✨

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling Apart & Torn at the Seams [3/5]

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 3k [Series Masterlist][Jax Fic Masterlist]

warnings/tags: 18+; pregnant!Reader, angst with an eventual happy/hopeful ending, emotional hurt, threat to abort (because it's Clay), angry Jax, Clay being Clay

a/n: Y'all are loving the drama in this fic and I appreciate the interaction on it SO MUCH! So thank you! I hope you enjoy the angsty part three! It's entirely possible we could end up with a total of five parts for this, it just depends on how long part four turns out to be once it's written (since each of these keeps getting longer than the previous). Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

tag list: @kmc1989 @hiddenwritings-adventures @shadyshadyy @cwallace02sblog

Almost four full days had passed since that argument at your apartment. Four days of you not answering your phone no matter how many times Jax had tried to call or text you. He already figured he’d pissed you off after how he’d gone off on you the other day, and he assumed that’s why you were ignoring him. But Jax couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this felt wrong. You’d never given him the silent treatment before. 

This wasn’t like you. 

Jax damn well knew he owed you an apology for the other night. You hadn’t deserved the way he’d shown up and torn into you like that. He’d just been so fucking exhausted and stressed after dealing with Alvarez out in Oakland. Jax had been walking a thin line trying to appease the Mayan president all goddamn day after he’d gotten word about the new Sons’ deal with the Niners, and it had completely fried his patience. But it was a bullshit task Clay had thrown him on to deal with, one that he knew would be irritating as fuck and take Jax the entire day to handle the “gang politics” of, but he claimed that Jax would benefit from the experience. 

He knew that wasn’t an excuse for his attitude with you, though. He knew that the second he woke up alone four days ago in his dorm room after that fight. Jax had dragged himself out of his bed, thrown on whatever clothes his hands had touched first, and then gotten onto his bike and rode straight to your apartment. He felt like an absolute asshole for the way he’d snapped at you, but he felt even worse for the way he’d just walked out of your apartment that night telling you not to even call him.

And that bad feeling only grew as the days had passed, settling like a heavy weight right in his goddamn gut. You never answered your door that morning when he’d come to apologize. Jax had just assumed that you needed some space after the fight, figuring he’d try again later so that he didn’t piss you off further. But you still hadn’t answered the door any of the times he’d stopped by in the days since. 

Everything had gotten worse after that. When he’d come into work at Teller-Morrow yesterday morning on Monday, you hadn’t been in the office. Which was strange because you never missed a day of work–you were always the hardest worker at the auto shop. But Jax left it alone despite the feeling in his gut telling him something wasn’t right. Maybe he really had just pushed you so far that you’d taken the day off. Maybe you still needed more time to calm down because he’d massively fucked up with you.

But then you hadn’t shown up today, either. 

Jax had stormed into the small office attached to the garage and demanded Gemma explain what the hell was going on earlier this morning. Jax had let you keep your distance long enough; he was done ignoring that feeling in his gut. And if for some reason he was wrong and you really were just pissed at him, he’d happily let you tear him to shreds–anything just to know that you were safe and still his girl. Because goddammit, he really fucking missed you.

But when Jax had barged into the auto shop's office this morning, he hadn’t expected his mother to tell him that you’d quit without warning a few days ago. Gemma told him that was all she knew, claiming she figured you’d already told Jax that you were going to quit your position as office manager. 

Except you hadn’t. You’d never expressed an interest in wanting to quit your position there. It was yet another thing that you absolutely wouldn’t do. It wasn’t like you to just go silent and disappear, quitting your job without even telling him that you were thinking about it. And that’s when the panic had finally set in for Jax.

He’d left the office, furiously pacing around his dorm room afterwards. Tugging at his hair, he tried hard to recall everything from that night. You’d called him an absurd amount of times that evening–something you’d never done before. Fifteen times. Your texts and voicemails had all said the same thing–that you’d needed him. No specifics, no explanations, just that you needed him.

None of what was going on these past few days felt like you. Something had happened and he’d fucking missed it. You had been trying to tell him something that night and he had been too tired, too focused on himself and how exhausted and irritated he’d been that day, to even see that something was wrong. That maybe you really did need him.

But you had looked perfectly fine when he’d stopped by your apartment. You hadn’t looked upset until he’d started shouting at you for yet again accusing him of cheating. And he’d been pissed off that not only had you called him to argue about that again, but because he had never wanted to touch another girl after meeting you. He’d told you that over a hundred times now and he meant it every fucking time he’d said it, but no matter how many times he did, you just wouldn’t seem to trust him. 

It wasn’t until Jax had thrown everything off the top of his dresser in his dorm room at the clubhouse, kicking a few boxes out of the way in his rage, that he remembered something from that night. One small, minute little detail. One little comment that had been quickly overshadowed by the accusations of him cheating.

You’d told him that Clay had visited your apartment earlier that day. That he’d threatened you. 

All of that had led to what Jax was doing now–breaking into your apartment.

He didn’t give a shit that it was mid-morning and anyone looking outside could’ve seen him picking the lock on your door. You weren’t answering your goddamn phone and you’d suddenly quit your job. Something was wrong with you–something more than just the fucking fight you’d had with him. And pairing that with the fact that you’d called him most likely afraid after Clay had made some sort of threat against you, Jax was fucking terrified he’d find you dead somewhere inside your apartment this morning.

Jax’s hands were shaking as he focused on picking the lock on your door, his teeth grinding together in barely contained frustration and nerves as he worked. If something had happened to you, he knew it was his fault. He hadn’t been there when you’d needed him. All he’d done was yell at you and walk away. 

Eventually, Jax heard the click of the lock. Returning the lockpicking tools into the inside pocket of his kutte, Jax twisted the handle of your door and pushed it open. His heart was hammering heavily inside of his chest as he stepped inside your apartment, closing the door after himself. 

“Baby?” he called out hesitantly. “It’s Jax. You here?”

No answer came.

That dark, terrifying feeling only grew in Jax’s gut as he stepped further inside, his eyes scanning around your place. Your living room looked as it usually did, not a single thing out of place. Even your blankets you liked to curl up with when you watched television were folded nice and neat on the back of your couch. 

Walking through the small space, a lump formed in the back of his throat. Jax had handled some high-stress situations plenty of times in his life. He’d been in gun fights, prison fights, and he’d negotiated with countless dangerous criminals over the years. But he’d never felt true fear like he did as he made his way around your apartment, a pit forming in his stomach.

Your kitchen looked just as pristine as the living room. There were no dishes in your sink, no sign of a struggle. Nothing out of place. Everything looked like it usually did whenever he’d come over to see you in the past.

Making his way down your short hallway next, Jax’s confusion only grew with each step he took. While he was grateful that he hadn't stumbled on your lifeless body lying anywhere in a pool of blood, he didn't understand what was going on. Where were you? Why weren’t you here? Where had you gone?

Flipping on the lightswitch of your bedroom, Jax made his way inside carefully. Your bed was neatly made and everything seemed just as pristine as the rest of your place. No clothing scattered on the floor, your bedside lamps weren’t knocked off the nightstand, the drawers of your dresser weren’t yanked out and thrown around. There was absolutely no sign of someone making you just disappear.

But he was missing something, he knew it.

Jax’s fingers ran over the comforter on your bed as he stepped further into the room, his eyes searching for something–anything. There had to be a clue as to what was going on, you couldn’t have just disappeared without a single trace. At the very least, he’d have expected a note. An angry text or voicemail. Something more than silence.

That’s when Jax’s eyes caught the way your top left drawer of your dresser was left open just a tiny fraction. As if maybe you hadn’t closed it completely because you’d been in a rush. Making his way over towards the slightly open drawer, his hand reached out and pulled it fully open.

It was empty. 

He knew this was the drawer you kept your bras and panties in–he’d watched you get dressed in here in the mornings more than enough times now. As his brows knit together, Jax’s hand slid over to the drawer beside it, the one he knew was filled with the cute little tank tops and cotton shorts you always slept in. But when he pulled that drawer open, it was also empty.

A deep frown dragged the corners of his lips downwards as Jax roughly shoved the drawer shut in his growing frustration. Turning around, he headed over to your closet and pulled it open. Half of your wardrobe was missing entirely. He stood there for a minute, just staring at the empty hangers as they taunted him with your absence. 

Inhaling a sharp breath, he shoved the closet door shut once more with a sharp bang. Running a hand across his bearded jaw, he turned and scanned the room again. Why were only a few of your things missing? What the hell was going on here that he wasn’t catching?

Wanting further proof that you’d really left Charming, Jax abruptly exited your bedroom and crossed the hallway to your small bathroom. He knew without a doubt that you’d never leave anywhere without that damn shampoo and conditioner you kept in your shower. He’d heard you complain about borrowing his enough times when you’d stayed over at his place that Jax finally told you to just leave some damn bottles in his own shower. 

Stepping into the bathroom, he reached a hand out and ripped the shower curtains all the way to one side. Your shower was empty, too. Devoid of your beloved shampoo and conditioner, and even that body wash that smelled so damn good it made him want to bury his face against your skin for hours just to inhale the scent of it.

You were gone. You’d really just left without a word. But why? And did it really have something to do with Clay? Something just wasn’t adding up here.

Releasing his tight grip on your shower curtains, Jax let out a low growl of frustration. But just as he’d been about to stalk out of your bathroom and back outside to his bike, a bright pink and white box sitting on the top of your bathroom garbage caught his eye. Taking a step closer to it, Jax bent over and reached out to pick it up.

Prenatal vitamins.

It felt as if all the oxygen had just been ripped straight from his lungs at the sight of the box in his hands. Prenatal vitamins–he knew what those were for. Pregnant women. But you weren't–

Hands shaking as he stared at the box in them, his eyes scanned over the image of a pregnant woman holding her belly on it as his mouth went bone dry. Feeling off balance, he reached a hand out to steady himself against the bathroom counter as his pulse jolted into a frenzy.

You were…pregnant? That's what you’d been trying to tell him? 

“Goddammit, baby,” he whispered to himself, feeling tears beginning to burn in his eyes. “I didn't fucking know. I didn't…”

Jax's voice trailed off as he stared at the box through his blurred vision, one hand running across his mouth. He'd fucked up. He'd really fucked up. You were pregnant with his baby and he'd just yelled at you and now you were gone. 

Both of you. 

A sick feeling hit Jax as he stood there staring at the box that had previously contained a bottle of prenatal vitamins–a bottle you’d clearly taken with wherever you'd gone. Had Clay somehow known you were pregnant? Did that have something to do with why you said he'd threatened you? Was that why you'd left without a word? Because you needed to get somewhere safe from his twisted step-father who’d spent months trying to shove you apart? Was that why he’d sent Jax off to Oakland that day?

Gritting his teeth together, Jax slammed a fist sharply onto your bathroom counter, barely registering the sting of pain to his knuckles. You had come to him for help and he'd failed you. He'd let you down.

With a dangerous rage unfurling inside of him, Jax set his jaw and stalked out of your bathroom, making his way through your apartment and back out to his bike in the lot. The pink and white box was smashed in his fist as he moved, each of his steps filled with determination. 

Driving back to Teller-Morrow only took a matter of minutes. Jax had parked and turned off his bike, retrieving that damn box once more before he turned and headed straight to the office. He was going to figure out what the fuck was going on. He was done with the bullshit lies.

Slamming the office door wide open, the door battered into the wall with a loud, abrasive noise. Gemma and one of the younger guys from the garage startled at the interruption. Both of them looked over at Jax, taking in the look of pure unbridled rage on his face. 

“Get out,” Jax snapped at the mechanic.

Gemma loudly scoffed as she swiveled her chair towards her son. “Jackson, that's not–”

“Get the fuck out!” Jax roared over his mother's words. 

Sebastian, a newer mechanic at the shop, instantly ducked his head and bolted through the door that led back into the garage. Gemma sat back in her chair, looking annoyed at Jax for having interrupted her conversation. That only pissed him off further at this point.

“Jax, you can't just–”

“Where the fuck is she, ma?” Jax snapped, cutting her off. He said your name, gripping that damn box tighter in his hand. “And don't fucking lie to me again!”

“I already told you earlier, Jax,” she began, her eyes narrowing back at him. “She unexpectedly quit. I don't know anything else.”

“Bullshit!” he growled. “That's bullshit, Gemma! I fucking know you and Clay have been trying to tear us apart from the fucking beginning. Don't goddamn lie to me right now, ma. Where is she?”

“I didn't do a goddamn thing to your little girlfriend,” Gemma replied. “I got no damn clue–”

Jax slammed his hand down onto the desk, abruptly quieting his mother. Gemma's gaze dropped down to the smashed box he'd left there, her eyes taking a moment to read the writing on it. A second later, her gaze flew up to Jax's.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Prenatal vitamins, ma,” Jax told her bitterly. “Just found them at her place. Her place where she looks like she packed some things and fled.” He paused, trying desperately to reign in his own anger right now so he could get answers, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. “Guessing that means she's pregnant with my kid, so I'm gonna ask you one more goddamn time, and I want you to stop bullshitting me.” He leaned forward, the question coming out like a snarl, “What the fuck is going on?”

Gemma sat quietly in her desk chair for a long moment, her eyes stuck on the misshapen box lying on her desk. The room grew thick with tension in the following silence before she finally spoke again, her voice quiet and just barely audible over the noise coming from the garage. 

“Clay,” she answered. “Had to be Clay. Told me he had something on her to make her leave Charming, but Jax–” her eyes flew up towards her son's furious blue ones, “–I swear I didn't know that she was pregnant. I had no idea. If she's carrying my grandbaby, you know I'd never do something like that. I'd never run her out of town with my own flesh and blood inside of her.”

Jax’s lips curled back into a feral snarl at her explanation. Gemma knew? She knew that Clay was trying to run you out of Charming and out of his life? And she’d just let him?

“You wanna earn back my fucking trust then?” he snapped, taking an intimidating step towards his mother as he loomed over her in her chair. “Ever be in that kid's life when I do find her? Because I promise you that I fucking will find her.”

Gemma was nodding instantly, her expression serious. “Of course I do,” she answered. “Of course that’s what I want.”

“Then you're gonna help me find out what the hell happened to her,” he told her, voice low and dangerous. “And then you're gonna help me deal with Clay. For good.”

[dailynnt]

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 12/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: Hi guys ❤️‍🔥 I wrote part 12 for you 💗 I soooo wanted to post it earlier, but I didn't manage 💔 But it's ready today! So what do you think? I'm a little nervous because I'm still not satisfied with my writing 😣 Give me a few words so I know what you think 🥺

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93, @bts-ruu, @asyr97, @taeloversblog, @songbyeonkim, @miniruuu, @hubbytaehyung, @queen1599, @goldenboysmuse , @nikkinikj, @kookiesncreamri, @guwol, @unholyforjk, @hisdecalcomania17 (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 12. The first date

You walked into the apartment, feeling your heart pounding. You still have the taste of his kiss on your lips. You want to scold yourself for letting him do whatever he wants so easily. But yesterday, after the meeting with your mother, you were broken. The moment when he stood up for you, put his chest to your crying, opened up a different side of Jungkook for you. He no longer seemed like the arrogant, self-absorbed neighbor who did nothing but piss you off. Yesterday, you saw him as a man of great strength and backbone. He consoled you so carefully that your heart ached, and the walls of defense you had erected against him cracked and crumbled.

You had long ago recognized that you were physically attracted to Jungkook, but not morally, but yesterday everything changed. When he hugged you in bed, you realized that you needed him. In that moment, you needed him, and the sex that followed almost drove you crazy, because it felt completely different. Not as something you would regret, but as something you needed.

You're afraid you're going to fall in love with Jungkook, because it turns out he's not only good at fucking you, but he's also tender with you, and that's the most dangerous thing. You notice that he wants to touch you all the time. And when he does, you feel something strange. Like you're getting an electric shock, or a wave of heat goes through your body.

He behaves as if you belong to him, and it started with that night, which was the price for his service. Since then, he thinks he can have you whenever he wants and however he wants. And the worst part is that you want him to. No matter how hard you try to push him away or deny your relationship, you're here. You play the role of his girlfriend and you fuck whenever you want. And you want to do it a lot.

Your head is boiling from the flow of thoughts in your head, how to behave properly, how not to fall in love with him, how to learn to react to him more calmly? You didn't know the answers to all these questions. You exhaled a big sigh, dropping your things and walking inside the apartment. Maybe you should let things go? Let it happen? But won't you regret it when the deal comes to an end? Won't it be hard for you to continue living next door to Jungkook without feeling anything for him? You're afraid it will. Because even when he's not around, you subconsciously want him to be.

Why? Because yesterday you felt protected by him? But didn't you feel the need for his presence before the situation with your mother?

You are playing with fire, which can not only burn you, so it will hurt, it can burn you, destroy you. You will try to keep your cool, and maybe then Jungkook will turn away from you.

You put your things away and decided to take a bath, as the trip from Busan had exhausted you.

You barely talked to Jungkook on the way home because his phone just wouldn't stop ringing. It was because he wasn't in the office on a weekday, and there were many things that needed his attention. You were secretly watching how he conducted business, how he talked, and how he made decisions. You could tell that he was very good at what he did. He is a worthy heir to a large company and will be a great CEO when his time comes.

So, to get rid of your tiredness, you wanted to lie in the bathtub, which was perfect for relaxing your body.

You filled up the tub with warm water, added lavender-scented salt, and lathered up. You undressed and climbed into the tub. The water enveloped your body, swallowing you up like a cocoon. The smell of lavender filled your nostrils, and the warm water made you almost purr with pleasure. You closed your eyes and listened to the melody you had turned on your phone, completely immersing yourself in a relaxed atmosphere.

At first you lay there almost motionless, then you moved your arms a little under the water, stirring up small foamy waves. Your phone vibrated, your grandmother was calling. You picked up the phone, talked to her, told her that you had arrived quickly, and that Jungkook had gone to the office. Your grandmother didn't miss the chance to praise Jungkook once again and tell you how happy she was that you had him.

You listened to her with a pang in your heart. What will happen when she finds out that you're not seeing him anymore, when the agreement expires? She'll be upset, and she'll definitely be angry with Jungkook. What if she finds out that your relationship with him is fake? Will she be able to take that kind of blow? You shuddered at the thought.

You heard your grandmother calling you on the phone, because you had been thinking for too long. You said you were tired and wanted to rest. Grandma understood what you were saying and almost immediately afterwards, saying that she loved you and was grateful for everything you and Jungkook had done for her, she hung up.

You closed your eyes again, enjoying your bath, trying not to think about Jungkook, but it was not working. Moments from the morning and the past times you'd been together with him kept flashing through your mind. Your insides felt like they were being mixed a spoon when you involuntarily remembered how he entered you, what words he whispered to you. How he made you feel the best orgasm that no one before him had ever given you. You ran up to your feet, and your knees immediately touched the air, which was cool against the water.

You opened your eyes and looked at your feet. How do you stop thinking about him? But just as you were about to do so, his name appeared on your phone screen. Your heart lurched somewhere in your throat, but you ignored it and picked up the phone without wasting any time.

"Hello," you answered the call, trying to keep your tone even.

"Is the kitten busy?" you heard Jungkook's voice say. He sounded soft and playful. You immediately realized that he was calling for a reason. You had just seen him twenty minutes ago. He had a lot to do, which meant he was calling with a specific purpose.

"I'm taking a bath, what do you want?" you asked, sharper than you meant to.

"Oh... if I can video call you?" Jungkook asked. And his low voice made your body react in a way you didn't want it to. A subtle throbbing started between your legs. If you were really a couple, you'd let him call and make him wish he was around. But you won't give him that privilege because your relationship is fake. You clicked your tongue in irritation.

"Jungkook, say what you want or I'm hanging up," you warned, forcing him to get to the point of the call. You sat down, wrapping your arms around your knees.

"You shouldn't have said no, but I'm calling for a reason. Kitten, take a bath, put on something nice. In 15 minutes my manager will come to pick you up, I need you in the office."

You froze, trying to understand what Jungkook had just said.

"You mean in the office? Why?" you wondered.

"I'll explain when you get there," you heard him say. You were not satisfied with this answer. You really felt exhausted and had no desire to go anywhere else.

"We just got here, Jungkook, I'm tired after the trip, can I come tomorrow?" you asked, protesting but hoping that he didn't have a serious reason for your visit.

"No kitten, you need to be here in exactly half an hour." he replied in a tone that didn't accept objections. You exhaled a doomed breath, you saw no point in arguing with them, seemed like it had some to do with the deal, but he didn’t say it right away. And it was pissing you off.

"What should I wear?" you asked, trying to figure out what he needed you for in the office. And to avoid another argument over your appearance.

"Dress like we're going on a date," Jungkook told you. A date? He wants you to go on a date?

"I usually wear a t-shirt and jeans, is that okay?" your voice was filled with irony.

"If you feel comfortable wearing those clothes to an expensive restaurant, then sure, you can dress like a kitten," Jungkook replied. You heard him smile slightly. You exhaled nervously into the phone again. Of course, if this is a date with Jungkook, it will be an expensive restaurant and definitely media attention. So you need to dress nice and expensive.

"Okay, I'll be ready in 15 minutes." you promised.

"I'm waiting for you," he said happily.

You were the first to hang up and groaned, throwing the phone on the table. You wanted to rest so badly, but Jungkook had already ruined your plans with his "fake date."

At the entrance, right in front of the front door, you spotted a black car waiting for you. Spotlessly clean, with tinted windows, it looked luxurious. Jungkook's manager, a serious man who didn't seem to know how his face muscles worked, stood by the car. As soon as you approached, he bowed slightly, greeted you, introduced himself as Manager Lee Ji-hyun, and opened the back door for you.

You greeted back and got inside, carefully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Inside, there was a subtle scent of leather and expensive perfume. Manager Lee silently took the driver's seat and drove off without another word.

You drove in silence for a while. You were checking your phone, and for some reason you were nervous at the thought of visiting Jungkook's office and after that going on a date afterwards.

The car drove smoothly onto the main road, the manager was silent. He certainly didn't have to entertain you, but his silence weighed on your shoulders. To break the silence, you tried to find out why you had to go to the Jungkook.

"Excuse me," you said, "Do you know why I need to go to Jungkook's office urgently..." in the rearview mirror, you met Manager Lee's attentive gaze. And thinking that you had called Chunguk informally, you quickly added, "Jungkook-nim?"

"Jungkook-nim will personally explain everything to you," he replied politely, without adding anything else.

You sighed slightly and leaned back. You stopped talking to him. Manager Lee seemed like a man who would not disobey an order even under pressure.

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up smoothly to the huge ‘Jeon Group’ building. It looked like a glass tower that almost reached the clouds. It looked like dozens of similarly successful companies, but for some reason it seemed special. It was typical, but it stood out from the crowd.

Manager Lee silently drove into the underground parking lot, deftly maneuvering among the expensive cars. As soon as you parked, he got out, walked around the car, and gave you a short nod, inviting you to follow him.

You hurried after him across the large gray parking lot to the elevator. He pressed a special button, and a few seconds later the doors opened in front of you. The elevator was spacious, with mirrored walls and golden panels on the sides. You felt a little dizzy-not only because of the height you were going up, but also because of the tension inside you.

You did not meet a single person. It was obvious that this was a private elevator used only by executives. Your pulse was racing with each floor you passed. When the doors finally opened, you were greeted by a spacious reception area, elegant and restrained in gray and white.

Behind the desk sat the receptionist, a young woman with perfect hair and a professional smile. When she saw you, she raised her eyebrows in interest and greeted you warmly, quickly looking you up and down. Manager Lee informed the secretary that you were here to see CEO Jeon Jungkook on a personal matter.

You politely greeted her back, a little embarrassed to see her studying you. The manager did not linger in the reception area, he hurried to Jungkook’s office and you intuitively followed him. The manager was the first to enter, announcing that you had arrived.

"Jungkook-nim, Y/N has arrived," you heard him officially announce.

You held your breath as you followed him into the office. You stepped inside, and your fingers involuntarily tightened on the strap of your purse. You tried to act confident.

Jungkook's gaze, which looked up from the tablet, burned you instantly. His fingers froze over the screen. His eyes...

They swallowed you whole, as if you were the only person in this entire huge office.

You nervously brushed your hair behind your ear, feeling the cream dress cling to your skin. It fit you perfectly, you knew that, but now you felt naked under his gaze.

You watched him stand up. How he took a step toward you, and you had to use an effort of will to keep yourself from stepping back. You wanted to look calm. But inside, everything was turning upside down. You didn't understand why you were reacting to him like that. Why he suddenly caused your heart to race.

You noticed Jungkook's jaw tense slightly as he slowly looked you up and down. His eyes were dark, sparkling... almost dangerous.

"Manager Lee, thank you for bringing me the Y/N. You can go now," his voice was low, vibrating, and you tried your best not to react to it.

You couldn't see, but you guessed that Manager Lee nodded and bowed. The barely audible rustle of his suit gave him away. He left and you were left with the two of you. There was a silence in the air, and you wanted to break it as soon as possible so that it wouldn't press on your ears.

"You asked me to look like we were going on a date," you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice was a little strained. You looked away, took a few steps to the side, as if you were curious to see his office. "Do I look appropriate?" I threw over my shoulder, touching my fingers to the golden rabbit statue on his desk.

There was no response. You felt his gaze on you and it literally burned you.

He came even closer, and his voice finally sounded hoarse.

"You look... dangerously appropriate." the next moment his arms slid around your waist. You felt the strength of his palms as he held you close. Your heart was beating wildly. You were frozen in place, as if you were paralyzed.

His face leaned down to your shoulder, and you felt his nose touch your skin. He inhaled your scent deeply. The sweet smell of apricots that you had chosen for yourself today seemed to appeal to him.

"Jungkook..." You whispered nervously, grabbing his hands, trying to push him away, to stop him. You were in his office, and anyone could walk in, because door was unlocked. "What are you doing? What if someone comes in?"

The answer was a kiss on the earlobe. A light bite that almost made your knees buckle.

"That's my plan..." he murmured low, his lips burning against your skin.

You turned your head, forcing yourself to keep your distance, even though his proximity was driving you crazy. Your brain was boiling.

"What do you mean?" you whispered, trying to figure out what exactly this plan was. His eyes slid to your lips, staying there long enough for you to know for sure that he wanted to kiss you.

"My mother should be here soon with Sukhi," his voice sounded almost weightless. "They wanted to pick me up to have dinner with them. But I'm busy. I'm going on a date with my girlfriend."

You were instantly filled with anger. You opened your eyes wide.

"You do it again, Jeon!" you exploded, instinctively pulling away. His hands reluctantly dropped. "Why didn't you tell me in the first place that your mother would be here?!" you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling anger and anxiety mixing inside you. You weren't ready to meet his mother at all. Not so soon. "I should to known, Jungkook! I could have at least prepared myself mentally!". Again, he confronted you with a fact.

Jungkook looked at you calmly. As calmly as if this were a completely normal situation. His eyes were sparkling. There was something... unstoppable in them.

"I knew you would react this way," he said, moving toward you.

"You knew and you are deliberately doing this to spite me?" you asked colorlessly. And then it all happened too fast. Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and pushed you against the table with a sharp movement. You gasped, and before you knew it, you felt a hard surface beneath you.

He lifted you to the edge of the table, standing between your legs, holding you tightly by the hips. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath.

"You don't have to worry, kitten," he purred, his gaze darkened, stirring desire in you. "I'm just going to show you to your mother. It won't take more than a minute. And then we'll go..."

"I don't..." you began, but your words were lost in his sudden, passionate kiss. Jungkook's lips covered yours, leaving you no chance to escape.

You felt his arms holding you even tighter, his lips demanding more than you were ready to give. You were overcome with frenzy-sweet, intoxicating, disturbing. You felt moisture instantly soaking your underwear.

You had been in his office. You couldn't do it here. But Jungkook's touch made you forget everything but your unrestrained desire.

While enjoying Jungkook's kiss, you didn't immediately hear the office door open.

"Jungkook-ah, son..." a cold female voice said. Your heart sank to your heels. Jungkook slowly pulled away from your lips, but his arms still held you.

You could feel his chest heaving with his breath. Jungkook turned his head, and you saw them.

His mother.

And Sukhi.

They were standing in the doorway, their eyes on you.

You can't even imagine how horrible it looked in their eyes. You are sitting on the table. Jungkook is standing between your legs with his hands on your hips.

You were ready to fall through the ground. And you definitely wanted to kill Jungkook right now.

Your anger knew no bounds. You turned away from Jungkook, who was driving and didn't seem to feel any guilt at all. The music in the Mercedes was playing, trying unsuccessfully to muffle the loud silence between you. The scene you had experienced ten minutes ago flashed in your mind over and over again.

You abruptly jumped off the table, pushing Jungkook away. Your face was flushed red and your hands were shaking. Jungkook didn't take a step back. He just turned lazily towards the guests, and a half-smile appeared on his face, the same self-confident and impudent one that made you lose your temper every time.

"Mom," he greeted calmly, not even trying to hide his impudence. "Sukhi."

You were ready to break through the ground, you wanted to disappear. You had never felt so terrible. You looked down, thinking of the most horrible way to kill Jungkook.

Jungkook's mother looked at you sternly, her gaze icy and hard, but you didn't see it. Sukhi looked hurt and upset at first, and then a smile appeared on her face, a gloating, subtle smile. And Jungkook didn't like it, her first reaction was better suited to the situation.

"I see you're very... busy," Jungkook's mother said with icy restraint. "But Manager Lee assured me that you're free tonight."

"Yeah, mom, already a bit busy," Jungkook said without shame, putting his hand on your waist. You glared at him, wanting to slap him. "But never mind . Y/N and I were going to leave."

"Y/N..." Jungkook's mother repeated your name. Your insides clenched. You heard the soft click of her heels and unconsciously held your breath. She stopped a few steps away. "Is this the same girl that the journalists recently wrote about?" she asked, as if driving a knife into your body with every word.

Jungkook's mother looked at you, and you could almost physically feel her gaze.

"Yes, mom, it's her." you heard Sukhi’s voice. "Jungkook introduced me to her at the after-party for the opening of the ‘Vante Maison’ boutique."

His mother didn't react to Sukhi’s words. There was a moment of silence, and then Jungkook's mother said.

"Son, I understand why you're playing with this girl. She's really pretty, but you know... you need to end it. Tell Manager Lee to order a taxi for her and let's go have dinner with your future fiancée..." Jungkook's mother didn't have time to finish her sentence because he interrupted her.

"Mom…" his voice was steady, but the irritation in it was unmistakable. "I don’t have a fiancée. What I have is this girl — and I’m not playing games with her, I’m dating her. And right now, I’m taking her on a date, so I won’t be able to go with you."

He said each word slowly, clearly, as if to finally make it sink in — for both his mother and Suhee: he wasn’t playing by their rules.

Jungkook grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the office exit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You felt Jungkook touch your thigh. Holding back your anger, you looked at his hand on your skin, and then slowly looked up at him. He glared at you, but quickly turned back to the road.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" he said quietly, with a guilty, almost boyish smile.

"Angry?" you stared at his profile, barely restraining the urge to hit him, "Why would I be angry, huh, Jeon? Because your mother looked at me as if I were a cheap accessory to be disposed of as soon as possible?"

"Do you care about my mother's opinion?" Jungkook suddenly asked, squeezing your thigh lightly. You raised your eyebrows, not understanding what he was getting at.

"No. But..." you trailed off, catching yourself thinking that you were really upset that his mother didn't accept you.

"She wouldn't to approve you even if you weren't my fake girlfriend. She wants me to marry Sukhi. So don't take her behavior into account," Jungkook reassured you.

Those words hit you like a cold shower. Yes, you are not Jungkook's real girlfriend. It made sense that his mother didn’t welcome you with open arms on the doorstep — youwere just an obstacle in her family's big plans. You turned away. Why do you feel humiliated by this situation?

"Just warn me about your damned antics next time. I'm tired of improvise," you grunted, hiding your emotions behind your irritation.

"Okay," he replied seriously. "Next time I'll tell you right away. Although," his lips slipped into a half-smile, "you're not bad at improvising, today, for example, you were so good to keep silence."

"Gosh, just shut up," you couldn't stand his insolence. You pushed his hand away, and Jungkook didn't like it. He gave a sideways glare at you. You sat with your arms crossed and looked straight ahead. Your eyebrows remained furrowed in displeasure.

A few minutes later, you pulled up to the restaurant. Jungkook parked the car. You was looking at the expensive place and only now did it dawn on you that you had come here for a fake first date.

"Umgg.." you squeezed out. Now you felt sadness mixed with irritation, but you'd have to smile and act like Jungkook's happy girl. He turned to you.

"If you don't want to go inside, I can take you home," he offered. You could hear the tension in his voice. He didn't seem to like your mood, but whose fault was that?

You asked him without turning your head.

"Can I really refuse? Or is it your voluntary and forced choice again?" you said sarcastically. Jungkook nervously leaned back in his car seat, his posture relaxed, though his eyes said he wasn't in the mood to play right now.

"Do you want to refuse?" he asked in a serious tone that sent a chill down your spine. You finally turned your face to him.

"Yes, I do, I don't want to play your lucky pleasure toy," you said. Jungkook moved forward sharply, and in a matter of seconds he closed the distance between you. He leaned on the armrest and looked at you with a piercing gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked in a low voice that made your pulse quicken. You glanced at his lips in betrayal and then quickly returned to his eyes. It was no more than a second, but Jungkook caught it. He was attentive to every detail about you.

"Yes," you said firmly, without any hesitation. "Take me home. I don't want to go on a date with you." Jungkook was angry. He didn't look away. His jaw tensed, and a fire flashed in his eyes that you'd seen before, the one that appeared when he wasn't going to give in.

And then, unexpectedly, he leaned in even closer, so close that your breath hitched.

"It's a pity you don't want to. Because I've already decided that you're staying," his voice sounded dull, low, dangerous. His hand took you sharply, but not roughly, by the chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. You grabbed his hand and threw it away.

"You offered to drive me if I didn't want to go. I don't want to," you repeated again. "And don't grab me like that. I'm not your property..." you said, your voice trembling with anger.

Jungkook froze for a moment. His lips were pressed into a thin line. Then he silently unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. You followed his figure with your eyes, realizing that he was walking to your door. He opened it and leaned towards you. You stared in surprise at his face, which was close. He also released your body from the seatbelt, and before you could get a word in edgewise, he grabbed your arm and pulled you outside. Jungkook closed the car door and pushed you against it. His strong body pressed against yours felt good. Jungkook almost kissed you, keeping his lips within touching distance.

"Am I so unpleasant to you that you refuse to go out with me?" he asked, purring against your lips. You watched his lips move in awe. The way the piercing on his lower lip glistened.

"No..." you said the truth, mesmerized by his closeness, "it's just that my mood has gone to hell," you said quietly, holding his elbows.

"I can lift it very easily, you know that..." he whispered, touching your cheek with his nose. He was driving you crazy with his actions. Your heart melted and you couldn't be angry with him anymore. "Where should I lift it up for you in the car, or in the restaurant's restroom?" he asked playfully. He looked at you, and his eyes were full of undisguised desire.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a slight wave of excitement run through your body. You glanced behind him. There were a lot of people near the restaurant and in the restaurant itself. You didn't see anyone looking at you, but it was definitely was.

"Jungkook," you tried to increase the distance between your faces, "there are a lot of people here..."

Jungkook looked into your eyes and smiled, pleased that you were reacting more calmly.

"It’s not just crowded here — there are also journalists who would be thrilled to write yet another article about our relationship." he said, kissing you lightly on the corner of your mouth. You instinctively closed your eyes, and when you realized he wasn't going to continue, you opened them.

"Did you take care of it? I think I will get a new portions hateful comments. Some people wrote that you have a taste problem." you said, smiling slightly. You remembered one of the comments under those articles where you were first called Jungkook's mistress. And that comment was not the most offensive.

"They must have a problem with their eyesight if they think I have no taste," Jungkook said irritably, his eyebrows furrowing. You bit your lips to hide the smile provoked by Jungkook's response.

"Maybe you have really bad taste?" you joked, "come on, I can tell you that if you tell me your ideal type."

"You" Jungkook answered immediately. The smile that had been frozen on your face slipped away. You felt something invisible squeezing your chest.

"Me?" you couldn't believe your ears. This can't be happening. He's just trying to play on your feelings. He's manipulating you to stop being angry with him.

"You heard me, kitten. You're my perfect type of girl," Jungkook assured you. He touched your cheek with the back of his hand. He stroked it lightly, savoring your confusion, "But your temper is a nightmare," he smiled slyly. He's a master at ruining a good moment.

"Idiot..." you said quietly, turning your head away. Jungkook laughed heartily. You were outraged by what he said about your character, because you thought you were a person of good character. Jungkook squeezed you tighter in his arms and leaned over, touching your forehead.

"But I have to admit that your character is a real challenge for me, and I love challenges."

You sighed, trying not to give in to the emotions he was stirring up in you. His closeness was intoxicating. His words were irritatingly pleasant. But you couldn't afford to lose control again.

"Let's go, I'm hungry." you ignored his words, hiding the real emotions.

"Yes, kitten, we'll go, but first, a convincing gesture that we're a couple," Jungkook said, and the next moment he touched your lips. His tongue unceremoniously burst into your mouth, demonstrating his superiority.

You felt your heart clench sharply. Jungkook was so confident that even his kiss seemed dominant, but there was no violence in it, only a deafening, slightly unbridled heat. You couldn't just pull away, even though you knew it would hurt your control. He seemed to know exactly how to exploit all your weaknesses.

You responded to him, trying to control yourself, but his bent body, his heat permeating every cell of your skin, made it difficult. When the kiss broke, you did your best not to look too confused.

"Now let's go, Jin will feed you the most delicious food in Seoul," Jungkook said as he intertwined your fingers. So this luxurious restaurant, ‘Nocturne’, belongs to Jin. The guy you met at the afterparty.

The entrance to the restaurant was luxurious. The warm light inside created a cozy atmosphere The interior was decorated in delicate pastel colors, dominated by shades of pink - from muted powdery to deeper, rich colors.

The walls were covered with soft light panels with textured plaster, and abstract paintings in a pink gradient hung between them. The silky tablecloths reflected the light, and each table had a small vase of peonies and tea roses.

The hostess - a tall, slender girl in a stylish black dress with a pale pink belt - came to you almost instantly as soon as you crossed the threshold. Her face lit up when she saw Jungkook.

"Jungkook-nim," she bowed slightly, smiling. "It's good to see you again. It's been a while." It was obvious that he was a frequent visitor here, and it was not surprising, since it was his friend's restaurant. The hostess gave you a brief, attentive glance, after which her smile became even warmer, but with a touch of professional politeness. "Please, let me show you to the best table."

She led you past several tables set up near tall windows, behind which the lights of the evening city shimmered slightly, and to a table in a secluded corner of the room, a little away from the other guests. The table was covered with a pink tablecloth, and napkins with the restaurant's embroidered initials were already waiting for them.

"Your waiter will be with you in a moment," the hostess said and politely left.

You looked around. Less than a minute later, a young waiter approached you with a tablet in his hands. He was a little nervous when he met Jungkook's eyes and quickly bowed.

"Good evening. My name is Jihoon, and I'll be serving you tonight. What would you like to order?"

"Can you have Kim Seokjin serve me and my girlfriend the best romantic dinner possible?" Jungkook replied calmly, not needing a menu. The young man became even more nervous, but smiled as he bowed.

"I will pass on your request to our chef. Do you have any special requests for drinks?"

"No, Jihoon, no need for additional drinks. Just serve what will be best for this dinner," Jungkook said, his voice low and calm, as if he controlled every movement in the space.

The waiter nodded and, with another quick bow, quickly left.

You glanced around the room and noticed that there were a lot of people in the restaurant. You looked around the interior for a moment longer, and then turned your head to Jungkook, and he was already looking at you, with a mysterious smile on his lips.

"What?" you asked, reservedly.

"Nothing... I just thought I've never brought a girl here before. You're the first."

You arched an eyebrow, not believing what he was saying.

"Why didn't you bring a girl here? Were you afraid Jin would see how many of them were?" you scoffed.

"Not for that reason. He already knows how many there were. And it's not dozens, as you think." Jungkook replied, putting his hands on the table and locking them. You still didn't believe him.

"Then what's the reason?" you asked sincerely. He shrugged and then looked away, sliding his gaze across the hall.

"Probably because this place is special to me. It's connected to the real me. With my best friend. I didn't want to share something so personal with someone else."

Jungkook's words impressed you. You felt special and you couldn't help but like it. The fact that he had shared something personal with you caused a warm wave in your chest. But the part of you that was used to not trusting him made itself known.

"Why did you want to share with me?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Because I learned something about you yesterday, and it wouldn't be fair of me if I didn't do the same," he answered, smiling slightly. You looked at him for a long few seconds. You understood perfectly well what he was talking about. Jungkook recognized your personal trauma related to your mother, and he wanted to share something personal with you as well. For example, he wanted to take you to a special place for him, where no one from his circle except his friends ever goes.

You didn't know what to say, because you were pleasantly surprised by his behavior, which was new to you. Jungkook was becoming more and more unlike the Jungkook you knew as a neighbor.

You were saved from the awkwardness that arose between you by Jin, the chef of this luxurious restaurant, who was rapidly approaching your table. You noticed him first, and smiled at his cheerful mood. Jungkook noticed your gaze shift and turned around.

"Did you really bring your girlfriend to my restaurant?" asked Jin, smiling and opening his arms to hug his friend. Jungkook stood up and for some reason you stood up too. They hugged each other like family.

"Yes, Jin-hyun. I thought she should know who cooks the best food in Seoul," Jungkook said as he let go of Jin. Jin bowed slightly to you, and you bowed back.

"It's good to see you, Y/N. Now I can definitely see that Jungkook-ah is serious about you," he leaned in, pressing his hands to his lips as if he wanted to share a secret, but he said it so Jungkook could hear it, "he's never brought a girl here, he's not the dating type."

You smiled sweetly, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

"I'm really glad that Jungkook brought me to you, Jin-shi. and wants to go a date with me. It makes me feel special," you lied, you turned your gaze to Jungkook and met his attentive gaze. You could barely stop yourself from raising your eyebrows in surprise. He looked at you almost without blinking, with a mesmerized gaze. Your heart skipped a beat, why was he staring like that?

"It would be my honor to prepare a romantic dinner for you. I will choose the best dishes and won't keep you waiting long. I hope you enjoy it," Jin said sincerely. He put his hand on Jungkook's shoulder, pulling him away from you.

"We sure will," Jungkook said.

Jin went to the kitchen, and right after he left, a waiter brought you a white semi-sweet wine. He poured you two glasses and wished you a pleasant evening and left. Jungkook grabbed a glass and you followed suit.

"Cheers to us," Jungkook suggested. You smiled tensely.

"To our deal. For it to work," you added. Jungkook nodded and the sound of glass diluted the noise around you. You took a few sips and the flavor of the grapes blossomed on your tongue. You noticed that Jungkook was staring at you and tried to act calm. But it wasn't working out well. You were nervous about his piercing gaze today.

"Relax, kitten, you look so tense, it's just dinner," Jungkook suddenly said as he put his glass on the table. He noticed your tense state and you didn't like it. You need to control your body language better. You really need to relax, but Jungkook is the direct cause of your tension. His behavior makes your heart beat faster, and it makes you feel strange.

"I'd be more relaxed if you weren't eating me up with your eyes," you said as casually as you could. You took another sip of wine, instinctively hiding behind the glass.

Jungkook laughed, his eyes still on you, a soft laugh with a hint of amusement. You realized that he was really enjoying the fact that he could embarrass you so much. He dodged a direct answer, but you saw his lips turn up slightly at the corners.

"I'm not eating you. I'm just... admiring," he said, almost a whisper, and his gaze softened, but it made you lose control even more "It's hard to look away when looking at a woman like that."

Your cheeks lit up, and you instantly looked away. Was the wine starting to take effect, or was it him? It seems that today Jungkook decided to attack you with emotions, not words. And you were completely unprepared for it.

"Are you trying to throw compliments at me, hoping for something after dinner?" you asked ironically. He burst out laughing again.

"Doesn't a date end with sex after a romantic dinner?" he answered with a question, making his voice seductively playful. You hummed, unconsciously, pressing your thighs together. The thought of having sex with Jungkook after your fake date was already burning red in your head. You wonder to yourself how he can make you feel this uncontrollable desire. To be honest, you hope that this is how your evening will end, but you can't show it to him. There's no way Jungkook can find out that you want to have sex with him.

"Seems like all your dates end this way, huh? Hate to disappoint you, but for normal people — it doesn’t always go like this," you said sarcastically. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, looking surprised.

"Really? That's so boring," he said. You gave a short laugh.

"It's not boring," you argued. "Decent people don't have sex after the first date," you said indignantly. Jungkook was enjoying your conversation, his eyes burning with curiosity.

"You've never had sex on a first date?" he asked, smiling broadly, and sipped his wine. You raised your eyebrows.

"Never! I don't sleep with men I barely know," your answer made Jungkook's eyes light up. He leaned back in his chair and looked at you slyly, as if you had just told a lie.

"You hardly knew me either when we first had sex. But you slept with me anyway," he said, watching your reaction closely. You froze, not expecting such words.

"We've known each other for a long time..." you began uncertainly, trying to justify yourself, but Jungkook interrupted you. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"I..." you trailed off, swallowing your indecision along with the bitterness in your chest. "It was different. You wanted sex as payment for a favor, and... I was... in a very difficult position at the time."

Jungkook was listening intently, but he didn't seem satisfied with your explanation. He raised his eyebrows slightly and pursed his lips, as if to suggest that your answer was just an attempt to escape the truth.

"So you only agreed because you had no choice?" he asked quietly, but his voice was a mixture of resentment and curiosity. He wasn't angry, no. But you felt that he was waiting for something more. Maybe even sincerity.

"Um..." you really didn't know what to say. In fact, you agreed because you wanted to. If you hadn't been attracted to Jungkook, you wouldn't have even let him touch you. "Yes," you lied. You were afraid to tell him openly that you liked him. "You threatened to make my life in the neighborhood terrible." You remembered what he said.

Jungkook tilted his head. He couldn't believe that you didn't want him as much as he wanted you. From the first day you met him, he could feel the sexual tension between you and he knew, that you felt it too.

"And the other times?" he asked, "you also had no choice?"

You felt a heat run up your spine. You felt hot, and you wanted to end this topic as soon as possible.

"We actually talked about dating," you tried to change the subject. Jungkook smiled, he could see how nervous you were, and it made him feel hot.

Jungkook didn't look away. His smile became slow, almost lazy, and there was something predatory and alluring about it.

"Yes, we talked about dating..." he trailed off, as if savoring every word. His voice became low and deep, and you caught him trying to suppress a subtle laugh. "You're contradicting yourself. You assurer that you don't have sex with men at first date, because you don’t know his well, but you agreed to have sex with me, a man you barely knew," Jungkook summarized.

"You don't take into account the circumstances under which I agreed," you said, unhappy, clutching your glass involuntarily.

"No, you're just not the good girl you want to appear to be," Jungkook said, still smiling slyly. Your eyes widened in shock, indignation, and... anger. Who was he to make such a judgment about you?

Jungkook stood up, put his chair next to yours, and sat down, boldly and brazenly violating your personal space. As always, without asking permission. His knee touched yours. And you seemed to be frozen.

He leaned closer, so close that you could feel his warm breath sliding across your cheek. His voice was low, muffled, dangerously slow.

"You act like you're only interested in control, only in rules... But your eyes tell me more than you want to. You want to be exposed. To have your soul bared."

You held your breath.

His fingers touched your wrist. Gently. Barely. But it was enough to make your body tense.

"You're the kind of person who's afraid of their desires, but dreams of someone guessing them. For someone... to stop you from running away from yourself." His gaze did not let go. Warm, but commanding. Piercing. He slid his fingers down the outside of your thigh, over the fabric of your skirt, slowly, steadily, as if he were testing how far he could go without saying a word.

You gulped in a breath, your heart beating with double the force. His touch was light, but a wave was already rising inside you.

"Look at you," his voice was barely audible, almost a whisper, sliding over you like silk. "You're trembling because you want me to touch you..."

You tried to say something, but the words dissolved in his breath. He leaned in even closer and gently touched your lips-not with a kiss, but with a seduction.

"In fact, you love sex and are ready to sleep with a man on the first date if you like him. You're ready to suck his cock like any whore's can’t do, and let him have you completely and totally. You have a lot of hidden kinks that affect you and you don't mind exploring even more perversions if you're comfortable with your partner."

Jungkook's every word is like a blow to your solar plexus. You forget how to breathe. Your lips are slightly parted, and you see his eyes slide over them before meeting yours again. The look in Jungkook's eyes is one of confidence, of being right, and fuck, he's right. He good learned you and it scares.

"I'm not..." you wanted to argue, but your voice was shaking.

"Yes, you are," Jungkook replied quietly, his voice a dangerous, pleasant whisper. "You agreed to have sex with me, barely knowing me, because you're attracted to me, kitten." He slid his hand down under the skirt of your dress.

You felt your stomach clench with tension, and then he gently spread his warmth down. It seemed that he was not penetrating your skirt, but your skin.

You felt him touch your underwear. The pulse between your legs increased and moisture began to leak out.

"I can finger fuck you under the table right now and you wouldn't mind... that's how bad you are," he whispered in your ear. His breath burned your skin.

His fingers slid down to your thighs, pushed the edge of your thong away... and touched your most sensitive spot. At first hesitantly, teasingly, as if studying you. His middle finger slid along your wet slit, and you almost screamed.

You squeezed his hand with your legs, not stopping him, but rather pressing him closer. Your hand instinctively grabbed his wrist, and your cheek rested on his shoulder.

"Jungkook..." you whispered, chained by both fear and excitement. "The journalists... they..."

"They won't," his voice was hoarse, hard, almost angry. "I've chosen the perfect angle. Now, be quiet and obey."

He pressed harder, his thumb slowly beginning to draw circles on your clit, sensitively, without rushing, making you clench. The other two fingers penetrated deeper, stretching, pulsing inside you.

"So wet..." he breathed out, and his tongue touched your earlobe. You felt your whole body tremble.

He was taking his time. He was torturing you, corrupting every inch of you.

"Come on, kitten... Feel it. I want you to come here. For me."

A few smooth strokes, then a change of rhythm - faster, deeper - and then slowly again... He played you like an instrument.

You could feel your body being filled with waves. Each touch was like a flash. Your internal muscles began to tremble. You couldn't breathe.

His voice was the last push:

"You are my bad girl. Whoring under the table is your new name. Cum for me, kitten."

You clenched around his fingers, your body merged into one climactic wave, you gasped for breath, moaned softly, digging your fingers into his shirt. Your clit throbbed, a few more soft touches and you crumbled, helpless and trembling.

Jungkook kept his eyes on you. His fingers were still touching you-softly, gently, almost tenderly, as if they were calming your storm. Then he slowly pulled his hand out from under your skirt. He took a glass, took a sip, and said calmly:

"See?" his voice was softer but still deep, "You just came on my fingers." You clenched your jaw. A wave of shame and desire mixed in your chest, making your heart beat faster. "You want me even when you're not supposed to. Even when there are people around. And you hardly know me, so don't lie to yourself."

He leaned down and lightly touched your lips with his. He tasted each of your lips in turn, and finally pulled away with a reverent gesture. He sat up straight, as if nothing had happened.

Jungkook took another sip of wine, his eyes never leaving yours. There was everything in his gaze: triumph, desire, possession.

But you couldn't say anything. Your breathing hadn't steadied yet, and your heart was pounding in your chest as if it wanted to jump out.

Your legs trembled a little, and you tried your best to sit upright, even though you were still pulsing wave after wave inside. You clenched your jaw, trying to pull yourself together. Your hot cheeks gave you away.

And at that very moment, the waiter approached your table with a slight bend and a professional smile.

"Your appetizers," he said, placing the plates on the table. You tried your best not to look at Jungkook and not to give yourself away. You just took the glass of wine and took a sip, hiding the trembling of your lips.

"Thanks," Jungkook said calmly, as if nothing had happened. He pushed the plate over to you and whispered very quietly, keeping his eyes on you:

"Now, pretend to eat while your body still remembers my fingers."

You almost choked on the wine, but you gathered your strength. The smile on your lips was nervous, but your eyes were burning with... desire. And shame.

⇠ Previous ⟡ Index ➩ ⟡ Next ⇢

[blackcat-star]

[Married] Beautiful In white.

Husband!Jinwoo x Wife!Reader

« Tears | First night »

_________________________

Jinwoo's POV

Your elegant aisle walk mesmerized me so deeply that I could barely comprehend the enchanting scene in front of me. Your wedding dress appeared like freshly fallen winter snow to showcase your gentle personality. Unspoken emotions flowed through your eyes as tears remained unshed while you revealed your deep feelings. Then there was your smile, that very same radiant smile that had always been able to trap my heart, now all yours and pointed straight at me, in that unforgettable moment, all yours and only mine.

I heard my heart pounding in my chest. I, Sung Jinwoo - who had faced so many death doors, so many of the most terrifying monsters in life - and now, just one look from you made me tremble.

You were the first person I loved... and I wanted to be the last person you loved.

I think I've never been so sure of anything as I am now.

I stood at the end of the road, waiting for you to come. Every step you took was a slow-motion film of the years that had passed. From the days of school, the seasons of royal poinciana flowers falling all over the schoolyard, to the afternoons of parting when no one dared to say anything clearly, everything seemed like it was just yesterday.

I stood before you, my hands trembling slightly. You held my hand, so gently, as if if you was just a little stronger, this moment would disappear like morning dew.

No matter how poor, stormy, or hurtful, I am always here. 

We grow old together, with each other.

You are the sunshine of a naive youth.

Just a moment of your smile, and I knew I was done for. My heart at that time, did not understand what love was, only knew that every time you smiled, my heart skipped a beat.

I am not the type of person who speaks flowery words. In fact, back then, I did not dare to look at you for too long. Every time you turned around, I quickly looked away, pretending to be buried in my books, even though I could not read anything.

We were still friends at that time. But I only dared to keep that feeling in my heart.

I yearned for your company and wanted you near me yet my fear of revealing my real emotions stopped me from sharing my inner thoughts. My fear of showing emotions led me to worry that revealing my feelings would endanger our bond while potentially creating separation which would make us drift apart.

I feared that you would leave if I revealed how I truly felt. Afraid that you would no longer smile at me like before. So I chose to remain silent, just to be with you - even if it was as friends.

And then time passed. Each spring, summer, and autumn passed, we grew up. But I still could not forget the feeling when I first held your hand. I still clearly remember your hesitant eyes when our hands first touched. I thought I would forget. But how could I forget?

The first time we held hands seemed like it was just yesterday. I could not believe that my first love, my childhood dream,...

Now in pure white.

I see your parents, I see old friends, I see people who have witnessed our journey. I think about everything we have gone through to get to where we are today.

After so many years - in the blink of an eye - you are now my wife. I feel myself to be the luckiest person on Earth because I have no doubt about my good fortune.

Your palm's gentle warmth remains in my grip as I hold your hand tightly while a reassuring bond wraps around me.

We vowed to each other a permanent bond which excluded any casual or momentary promises because we promised to support our marriage until death.

"I dedicate myself to loving you forever as I swear this eternal promise not only for your sake but also as a holy vow made before heaven."

Your future brings no worries because I will stay by your side holding your hand at every moment including your tired times and times of need. Your presence is always available to me whenever you need rest or comfort. Your silence does not hide the ways I will make you smile because I will always find creative ways to brighten your day. Just a look, a squeeze of your hand, I will understand what you need.

_______________________

Time flies again - this time in the blink of an eye, ten years.

We are no longer just two people. Now, there is another little creature that calls us mom and dad.

I still remember clearly the moment you first held your child in your arms. You cried - not because of pain, but because of happiness. I stood beside you, unable to hold back my tears. I never thought I would have a family - but now, we have everything.

"Now we have another family. Happiness with another member."

We watched our child grow up every day. Every babble, every step, every time he called 'dad' - all became precious memories.

We both taught our child how to love - the way you and I have loved each other over the years.

And we promised to love our child forever, a sacred promise we made to the heavens. No matter how sick or poor or how much trouble come, mom and dad will always be here.

________________

One day, our hair will turn white. Our hands will shake, our eyes will dim. But when you look back, I want you to know that.

I am still the boy that year, silently looking at you and smiling. I am still the man standing in the wedding hall, waiting for you to step forward. I am still the father holding his child in his arms, promising to protect you and your child for life.

And...

I am still the person who will always be by your side - Until the very end.

We grow old together, with each other.

___________________

Part of LIFE WITH YOU.

___________________

This was supposed to be a long one.

But I realize I already wrote a section about the wedding, but I didn't want to delete this, so consider this an added section.

tag: @soft-dots

[wolverigrl]

The first date

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I made some small changes in the last parts! The movie they made is a fictional one about Lady Deadpool. Everything takes place in 2015. Y/n is in her late 20s. Blake and Ryan got married long before and I changed the ages of their and Hugh's kids so it would fit more!

Warnings: none, only some swearing here and there and a bit fluff, not proofread!!

Enjoy!

Previous part

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The early morning breeze was cool as I jogged through Central Park, the soft hum of the city waking up in the background. The familiar rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement was oddly comforting, almost like a meditation. I pulled my black baseball cap lower, shielding my eyes from the rising sun, and zipped up my running jacket a bit more. My leggings clung comfortably to my legs, and I felt grounded, my mind clear, my body moving with ease.

Jogging here had become part of my routine, a way to escape for a moment. The quiet mornings felt like a reset. As I slowed my pace and started walking toward the park exit, my breathing still steady, I noticed two people approaching from the side, their faces lighting up in recognition.

"Excuse me... are you y/n?" the guy asked, his voice a little shaky with excitement.

I smiled softly, adjusting my cap. "Yeah, that’s me."

The girl next to him looked at me with wide eyes, already fumbling for her phone. "Oh my God, we are big fans! Can we take a picture with you?"

I chuckled, nodding. "Of course, let’s do it."

We huddled together, her phone snapping a few pictures. The guy, who looked like he was around his early twenties, lingered for a moment longer, hesitating before speaking.

“You probably hear this all the time." he began, "but you really inspired me. I’ve always wanted to act, but I didn’t have the courage to pursue it. Seeing you do what you love gave me the push I needed so I just joined a local theater group."

For a moment, his words hung in the air, and I felt a rush of warmth. It wasn't every day someone said something so meaningful.

"That’s amazing! I’m so glad I could inspire you. Keep at it, okay? It’s tough, but if it’s your passion, it’s always worth it."

He nodded, his face full of excitement and we hugged each other as a goodbye. As they walked away, I called out, “You made my day! Love you guys!” Their faces lit up even more, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like this.

This encounter left me with a good feeling, and as I walked back home, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. Connecting with people like that reminded me why I started this journey in the first place.

Back in my apartment, I kicked off my shoes and collapsed onto the couch. My mind wandered to everything that had happened over the past few days—work, interviews, photoshoots—but one thing stuck out more than the rest: Hugh. I had been thinking about him more than usual, and after yesterday’s intense moment, it was hard not to.

Still, before I let my thoughts drift too far, I got got into the bathroom for a quick refreshing shower. After that I changed into a comfy office look, grabbed my phone and dialed my parents. I hadn’t caught up with them in a while, and I missed hearing their voices.

“Y/n! Pumpkin! How’s our superstar?” my mom’s voice greeted me on the other end.

I smiled, sinking into the cushions. "Super busy, as usual. But everything’s going well. I'll have a meeting with the team today. lots of interviews coming up."

We chatted for a while about my schedule, how they were doing, and the usual family updates. I purposely avoided mentioning anything about Hugh. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell them, but I wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. Not when things between us were still so undefined.

After saying goodbye, I got up to get ready for my meeting at the office. As I was applying a bit of makeup, my phone buzzed on the counter. Hugh’s name appeared on the screen.

HUGH: Good morning, beautiful❤️ How's your day starting?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed back, already feeling my heart speed up a little.

Y/N: Good morning handsome🥰 Doing pretty good so far. Just came back from my morning run. How about yours?

Almost immediately, his reply came through.

HUGH: I still don’t know how you can enjoy running😅 Mine's good too. Picked coffee with a friend and now we're at his house already working.

Y/N: Maybe you're just getting old?👀

HUGH: Why so mean? Did you trip on your run?

I snapped a quick selfie in the mirror with my tongue out and send it to him.

Y/N: I'm not mean. It was a legitimate question. I'm heading to the office now! Wish me luck!😘

HUGH: Looking great as always! And good luck, though you don’t need it. You always kill it sweetheart😘

A moment later, another message appeared, this time with a photo of Hugh, standing in what looked like an unfinished house. He was wearing a tight-fitting shirt, his arms slightly dusted with sawdust, his hair messy in a way that only made him look better. I paused, biting my lip. He looked really good. And my mind, much to my frustration, flashed back to that kiss.

Y/N: Somebody pls call the fire department🔥

HUGH: Lady, stop exaggerating😂

I chuckled, shaking my head. There was something so annoyingly attractive about how casual he was, even when he looked like that. After a few more texts, I realized I had to leave or I’d be late.

The management office was buzzing with energy when I arrived, as usual. I greeted everyone warmly, settling into the meeting room where we began discussing upcoming interviews and events. Everything was going smoothly, just the usual PR talk—until one of the managers, Sam, leaned forward with a more serious expression.

“So, we’ve been thinking,” he began. “The buzz around you and Hugh has been great for both of your images. The movie’s coming out soon, and the fan speculation has been... let’s just say, active”

I nodded slowly, already sensing where this was going.

“We think it would be smart to keep that momentum going." Sam continued. “Even after the release of the movie, we want you two to keep up the appearance of having something going on. Publicly, deny it in interviews, of course. But tease the people a bit more. Keep them guessing.”

I blinked, processing what he was saying. "So, you want us to pretend we’re together, but not really confirm anything?"

Sam nodded. "Exactly. It’ll keep the public engaged, and your fanbases will stay hooked. It’s good for both of you."

The idea sat heavy in my chest. I could see why they wanted it—it made sense from a PR standpoint—but the thought of turning something personal into a game made me uneasy. What if it messed things up between Hugh and me? What if it turned whatever we were trying to figure out into a spectacle?

“I’ll talk to Hugh about it." I said carefully. “And I think it’s best if you reach out to his team as well, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

Sam smiled, satisfied. "Good call. Let us know what you both decide."

They nodded, and we moved on to other topics. I was particularly excited when they mentioned a potential collaboration with a fashion brand. Modeling for a brand had always been a dream, and eagerly agreed.

After sorting out some paperwork, I left the office, my mind still swirling with everything we discussed. As I stepped outside, my phone rang. It was Chris.

"Hey!" he greeted me. "I'm in New York earlier than planned. Are you free?"

Of course, I agreed, and we arranged to meet up at his hotel. Soon, we were stroling through the city together, talking about everything from movies to work. Even though my phone buzzed several times, I ignored it, wanting to be fully present with Chris.

After a while, Chris turned to me with a grin. "So, about those rumors with you and Hugh... anything you want to share?" I felt my stomach twist. Lying to I Chris didn't sit right with me, but Hugh and I had agreed that only Ryan and Blake knew about us. So, I gave him the standard answer.

"We’re just friends,” I said, not quite meeting his eyes. “You know how the rumors go. Our Managers want us to play along because it looks good. That’s all.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced but letting it slide. “If you say so.”

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he said, “Actually... I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met someone.”

I blinked, surprised. "What? When?"

“Not too long ago. Her name’s Alba. She’s incredible—smart, sweet, talented and down-to-earth. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

As Chris spoke, his eyes lit up, and I could tell he was smitten. I felt a surge of happiness for him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Chris, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.”

He smiled, clearly touched by my excitement, and we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city, talking about Alba, his family and how things were going. Eventually, I had the idea to skip the pub and order takeout instead. Chris agreed, but only on one condition.

"We have to watch a Disney movie!" He said with eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Deal!" I laughed.

After heading back to my place, we posted a photo of us together on Instagram, and as expected, the comments looded in.

>>ginainabottle: Where's Hugh?😭<<

>>markix69: Y/n always with the dilfs. QUEEN💯<<

>>teddy1xoxo: How is it living my dream?❤️😭<<

I finally checked my messages and saw a few from Hugh.

HUGH: Have fun tonight😘

HUGH: Meeting up already?

HUGH: Everything okay?

Guilt twisted in my stomach and I quickly called him.

"Hey.." I said softly when he picked up. "I'm so sorry I didn't respond earlier. I was just... you know how it is... We've been talking non-stop."

"Y/n it's fine." Hugh replied, but there was something off in his tone. "What've you two been up to?"

I told him everything--how we spend the day walking around, catching up and now were getting ready for a movie night.

"Chris is still here, actually." I added. "We're about to watch The Little Mermaid."

There was a pause before Hugh spoke again, and I could swear there was a hint of something... maybe jealousy? But I brushed it off.

"I miss you." he said, his voice softer now.

"I miss you too." I replied, smiling at he thought of seeing him soon.

"Oh, by the way." I added remembering the management's idea. "My team suggested we tease the fans a bit more online. Even after the movie releases."

Hugh chuckled. "Yeah, we can play around with it. Deny everything but drop a few hints. But what do you think?"

I bit my lip, thinking back to the conversation with my team. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't want the media or public pressure to affect what we're building between us, you know? But if you're okay with it, maybe we should continue."

Hugh chuckled, the tension easing from his voice. "Like a soft launch, huh? So, we hint at things but never really confirm it?"

"Exactly." I said, smiling at the idea now that it was being said out loud. "We can have fun with it. But still deny things if people ask outright."

"Deal," he said, his tone light again. "Let's tease them a little, but keep the mystery alive."

We both laughed at the absurdity of it, and the playful tone of the conversation helped ease my earlier guilt. Then, Hugh's voice turned a bit more serious, though stillwarm. "By the way... how about gym and breakfast tomorrow? Just the two of us?"

I hesitated, not out of uncertainty but because of how much I wanted it. "Like... our first real date?" I asked, grinning into the phone.

"Yep. Our first official date." he confirmed, the excitement in his voice clear.

"Then, it's a yes!" I said, feeling butterflies stir in my stomach at the hought. "Where should we meet?

We hashed out the details and after a few more minutes of casual banter, we finally said our goodbyes, both of us feeling lighter.

As soon as I hung up, I turned to find Chris giving me a curious look from the couch. "So. first date, huh?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed, knowing I couldn't hide it anymore. "Yeah, fine. You got me," I admitted, plopping down beside him. "Hugh and I... there's something going on. But we're keeping it quiet for now. Chris grinned, clearly happy for me. "I had a feeling. And honestly? I'm happy for you. Hugh's a good guy He was always super nice when I had the chance talking to him."

"Thanks, Chris. It's just complicated, you know? With the media and all."

"Yeah, I get it." He said with a knowing nod. "But if anyone can handle it, it's you." He then smirked, his teasing side coming back. "So are you guys gonna do a soft launch like the rest of us normal people, or something more dramatic?"

I squealed and shoving his arm. "What the heck?! He mentioned a soft launch too! What are you? Telepathic?!" And we both bursted into laughter.

We calmed down and shifted our focus back to The Little Mermaid. Chris singing along to Part of Your World with exaggerated enthusiasm. It wasn't long before he dozed off, his head lolling back against the couch. I smiled fondly at him, his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, but it was nice to end it with someone I trusted so much.

Grabbing my phone,I snapped a quick picture of Chris, chuckling to myself as I did and quickly posted the photo to Instagram with the caption:

>>y/n instagram: Disney and chill with my favorite co-star🧜🏻‍♂️<<

The comments poured in almost instantly, but I ignored the notifications, setting my phone on the coffee table and grabbing a blanket to drape over Chris. After making sure he was comfortable, I turned off the lights, heading to my bedroom. I slipped under the covers, the events of the day replaying in my mind. Hugh, Chris, the PR idea and the upcoming date.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Chris moving around the apartment. I got up and changed into comfy clothes as I walked into the living room where he was packing up his things, looking like the human version of a Disney prince as usual. As I stretched and rubbed my eyes, he glanced over at me with a soft smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead." he teased, zipping up his jacket. “I’ve got a meeting downtown, but I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

I sat up and gave him a playful wave. “Didn’t want me to think you snuck out, huh?”

“Exactly. I’m not that kind of guy,” he joked, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Then his tone softened. “Hey, keep me updated on the Hugh situation, okay? I’m curious how things go. And don’t forget to tell me about that first date.”

I smiled, the warmth of his support making me feel even more confident. “I will. Thanks, Chris.”

He leaned down and gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, y/n. And don’t forget, I’m always just a text away if you need me.”

“Will do. Good luck with your meeting!”

With a final wave, he headed out the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and a mess of nerves about my first official date with Hugh later that morning. I had no idea what to expect, but I hoped it wouldn’t turn into a disaster.

After Chris left, I freshened up, threw on my workout clothes, and made my way to the gym where Hugh and I had agreed to meet. This wasn’t just a casual workout—it was our first date, so I kinda did a big deal out of it.

When I arrived, Hugh was already there, looking ridiculously good in his gym gear. He waved me over with that easygoing smile that never failed to make my heart race.

“You ready?” he asked smiling down at me.

“I was born ready!" With this Hugh opened the door and let me go in first.

We started with some light cardio to warm up, and things were going smoothly—until we hit the weight section again. I’d watched Hugh easily lift a set of dumbbells like they were made of air, and, in a moment of misplaced confidence, I thought 'Why not?'. I grabbed a barbell and decided to push myself a bit further than usual. The first few reps went okay, but as I tried to push the barbell up again, my arms started to shake. I tried to power through it, but I quickly realized I had overestimated my strength. Just as the weight became too much, Hugh was beside me in an instant. “Need some help there?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. I tried to save face. “I’ve got it, just—just give me a second…” Before I could protest further, he gently but firmly took hold of the barbell, lifting it with ease and placing it back on the rack.

"Yeah, you totally had that under control." he teased, his smile widening. “Okay, maybe I overdid it a little." I admitted, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks.

"No shame in asking for help." he said, giving me a playful nudge. “Just don’t hurt yourself trying to keep up with me.”

I playfully groaned and lightly slapped his chest. He just laughed, pulling me tighter against him, his arms wrapping around my waist. I looked up at him, grinning, my gaze lingering on his lips for a beat too long.

“Do you need a kiss to forget that little mishap?” he teased, moving his face closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I smirked, voice dropping to a whisper, “Oh, I’ll need more than one to forget that.”

Before he could respond, I closed the gap between us, pulling him in with my arms wrapped around his neck. My fingers tangled in his messy, sweat-damp hair as our kiss deepened, the heat between us rising instantly. He brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, and I parted my lips, welcoming him further. His hands gripped me firmly at the waist, keeping me pressed tightly against him, while my hands couldn’t stay still, roaming over his broad shoulders and chest. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire, completely overtaken by the moment, the world around us fading away.

I didn’t even realize when my hands slipped under his shirt, fingertips grazing his warm skin. But just as quickly as the moment ignited, Hugh pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

“We’re only on our first date,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “I haven’t even given you flowers yet.”

I chuckled softly, my head still spinning, and nodded. “You’re right. We said we wouldn’t rush things… and, well, making out in a public gym might be pushing it. I don’t think our management would be too thrilled if the media caught wind of this.”

Hugh laughed, loosening his hold on me, though his hands lingered for a moment longer. “Yeah, I can already hear the headlines.”

Reluctantly, we stepped back from each other, both grinning, but still feeling that magnetic pull between us.

After that little incident, we wrapped up the workout, and I offered to cook us breakfast back at my place. It was the least I could do after Hugh saved me from total humiliation. But as soon as I started cooking, I realized maybe that wasn't the best idea.

The eggs burned almost immediately, the toast was so hard you could break a tooth on it, and I somehow managed to get pancake batter all over the counter.

Hugh stood nearby, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and concern.

"I swear, I'm usually better at this." I said, desperately trying to salvage something from the mess. Hugh laughed, leaning against the counter. "Better at lifting weights or cooking?"

"Oh shut up!" I laughed and tossed a burnt piece of toast at him, which he dodged easily.

"You sure you don't want me to handle this?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

"Hugh, I already said no. I'm perfectly capable." I said defensively, though the evidence clearly suggested otherwise.

"You keep telling yourself that." he teased.

I flipped another pancake, only to see it land halfway off the pan.

I let out a dramatic sigh, slumping my shoulders in mock defeat. Hugh chuckled and wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a quick kiss to my neck. The warmth of his lips and the slight scratch of his beard sent a shiver down my spine, goosebumps rising instantly. I turned my head towards him, and with a soft smile, he said, "Looks like the universe is giving you a day off from cooking. Let’s clean up and eat at the café instead."

Eventually, we gave up on my culinary attempt and decided to head downtown to the next café. We settled into a cozy corner table, ordering some coffee and toast. As the food arrived, I couldn't help but laugh.

"At least this can't go wrong, right?" joked, gesturing to the perfectly normal-looking plate in front of us. Hugh raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure. With us, anything's possible."

I pretended to look horrified. "Don't jinx it!"

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, What do you think of our first date so far?"

I paused, meeting his eyes.

Hugh leaned back smiling. "Well I've gotta say, it's been pretty great so far."

I chuckled, feeling the warmth spread through me. "I agree. Disaster-prone, but definitely memorable."

We spent the rest of breakfast chatting, laughing about the little mishaps from the past couple of hours, and just enjoying each other's company. It, again, felt easy and natural, even with the nerves of a first date hanging in the air.

As we finished up, Hugh reached under the table for my hand and squeezed it gently, giving me a soft look that made my heart skip a beat. "You know, I'm really glad we do this."

"Me too, Hugh." Iadmitted, feeling the same.

Later that afternoon, Hugh and I met up with Ryan for an interview promoting the movie, which finally releases tomorrow. It was just the three of us sitting in a comfortable setup, no live audience, just cameras, and a quiet room. I always looked forward to interviews with Ryan—he had a way of making everything fun and unpredictable.

The interviewer greeted us friendly with a firm handshake and began with the usual questions about the film after introducing us to the already recording camera.

"So, y/n, how did it feel stepping into the shoes of Lady Deadpool?”

I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly, it was a dream. She’s such a chaotic, yet deeply emotional character. Playing her meant getting to do some wild action scenes while also diving into her personal struggles. Plus, I got to wear a lot of leather.”

Ryan jumped in, grinning. “And kick some serious butt. Let’s not forget that.”

The interviewer nodded and turned to Hugh. “And how about you, Hugh? Wolverine is such an iconic character. How was it returning to the role?”

Hugh smiled, looking relaxed. “It’s always an honor to play Wolverine. This time around, the dynamic with Deadpool—and Lady Deadpool—added a whole new level of fun. The banter, the action sequences, it all just felt... electric.”

Ryan leaned in dramatically. “But let’s be honest. It was terrible. We all hated each other on set!"

Hugh, the interviewer and I bursted into laughter as Ryan continued, completely straight-faced. "No, seriously, it was a nightmare. Every day was a battle I'm surprised we even finished the movie."

"I mean, you were pretty hard to work with.: I teased, leaning into the joke.

Ryan shrugged dramatically. "I do my best to bring chaos wherever I go."

The interviewer then introduced a fun segment: Fan questions pulled from Twitter. “Alright, we’ve got some tweets here from fans. Let’s see what they want to know.”

He read the first tweet aloud. “@MarvelFanGirl asks: ‘What was the funniest moment on set?’ "

Ryan immediately jumped in. “Oh, I’ve got this. There was actually a pretty intense kiss scene between y/n and Hugh in the original cut of the film, but - spoiler alert - it got cut because the film was running too long. Marvel classics." Hugh chuckled, already shaking his head in amusement.

"And I swear by the mother of my children, Blake Ellender Lively!" he dramatically paused. "They just kept going after the director's cut! The crew didn't know if they were still in the scene or... well, if it was method acting, if you know what I mean."

At this point the interviewer started laughing uncontrollably and held his hand in front of his mouth.

I laughed, hiding my face in my hands. “Why do you always bring that up?”

“Because it’s comedy gold!” Ryan laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Don't listen to him, Hugh said, grinning. "He's just upset he didn't get a kiss scene."

"Eeeexactly!" Ryan exclaimed, pointing at Hugh. "Where's Deadpool's kiss scene, huh? It's an outrage!"

Even the crew behind the cameras started laughing and the interviewer moved on with the questions, still giggling.

"Ryan, if you could switch roles with anyone in the cast, who would it be?" asked the interviewer.

Without missing a beat, Ryan replied.

"Y/n, hands down. She got the sexiest costume, the coolest weapons, and she gets to kick more butt than anyone else. Plus, let's not forget--she gets to kiss Hugh."

I groaned, shaking my head while Hugh laughed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never!" Ryan said with a grin.

The next tweet came in, and the interviewer read it out. “@WolverineLover asks: ‘If Wolverine and Lady Deadpool had their own spin-off movie, what would it be about?’”

Hugh pretended to think seriously. “I imagine it would be about trying to stop Lady Deadpool from blowing up everything in sight.”

I shot him a mock-offended look. “Hey, Lady Deadpool isn’t that destructive.”

Ryan snorted. “Oh please, she’d turn the whole thing into a circus. Wolverine would just be there for damage control.”

We all laughed as we moved on to the next question. “@DeadpoolRocks asks: ‘Ryan, how much of Deadpool is actually you?’ "

Ryan grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, about 90%, I’d say. The other 10% is just me trying to look cooler than I actually am.”

As the interview wrapped up, we exchanged a few more lighthearted jabs, and I couldn’t help but feel how much fun we had together. Ryan and Hugh had a way of making every moment a little less serious and a lot more entertaining.

“Alright." Ryan said, standing up as the cameras shut off. “Who’s ready for round two tomorrow?”

I moaned, already dreading whatever he had in store. “I’m not sure my dignity can handle it.”

Hugh laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walked out. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to save you. Again.”

“Let’s just hope there are no weights involved this time,” I quipped.

After the interview, we walked off stage, and Ryan clapped Hugh on the back.

"Man, I'm still disappointed they cut the kiss scene. We were all waiting for the slow-motion sparks."

Hugh just laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's why the audience would come to watch the movie. For that."

Ryan wagged his finger. "Don't underestimate the power of romance, Jackman. Fans live for that!"

I shot both of them a look, trying to keep a straight face. "As long as no one mentions the breakfast disaster, I'll consider this interview a win."

Ryan blinked, clearly intrigued. "What breakfast disaster?"

Hugh grinned mischievously, but before he could spill, I put my hand over his mouth in protest. "Nope! Not happening. What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. "Im going to get that story out of one of you. Just wait!"

"Ha! You wish!" I called over my shoulder, heading out of the studio with them.

Eventually, we split off, with Ryan going in one direction, and Hugh and I in another, after we said our goodbyes.

Hugh opened the passenger door for me so that I could get in. After my little "Thank you", he closed the door with a smile and sat down on the other side. "My place or yours?"

I kissed his cheek. "Let's go to your place."

With that, Hugh drove off, placing his hand on my thigh as he drove.

Smiling, I looked out of the window and stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. What a day.

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild

Next part

Sorry if it's not proofread! Struggled with a migraine today but still wanted to finish this part. But I tried my best! And I hope I didn't confuse anybody with the small changes.

[itzpookiepooh]

Uncomfortable

You hate change (I hate change)

Caleb knew it well how much you hated change. You hated it so much that it made you cry. Today you needed to replace your mattress that you were oh so happy with. You could sleep in it and that’s all that mattered. So when you absolutely had to get a new one you were a good sport about it. You let them bring it in and you let Caleb put it together. Everything was fine until it was time to sleep in it.

You got cozy and laid there for a few minutes before you burst into tears. Caleb was so confused because you did well the whole day. He comforted you as best he could. He felt bad but he couldn’t have you sleeping like that for much longer. You bawled like you’ve never bawled before making Caleb worried. He grabs your face so you’ll look at him.

“I don’t want a new bed.” You cried as fat tears rolled down your cheeks and his hands. He cooed before pulling you into him. Sadly, the bed was already gone.

“The bed was messed up, pips. I’m sorry.” He rocks you side to side trying to calm you down.

When you do calm down, you tell yourself it’s not that bad. You just needed to cry first and it may have taken a while especially with having to break the bed in however, you got use to it. Caleb was so happy that you warmed up to the bed or else he would’ve had to drag it from the curb.

Xavier watched as you stared at your new pillows that he convinced you to buy. Your old ones were as flat as a SIM card and hurt your neck. You missed your old ones that were just across the room. You laid on them and they were comfortable but you had that nagging feeling. You were making yourself uncomfortable just thinking about getting them earlier.

You had changed your mind as soon as it felt real. You picked them up just to put them back down again. You didn’t want them nor did you want to change a part of something you were comfortable in. Xavier explained to you that you’d really mess your neck up trying to sleep on the old ones. You tried that night to sleep on them and it wasn’t the best night sleep—you could admit but you kept the old pillows on the bed just in case.

“It’s alright. The first night is always the hardest, I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He reassures you as he lays with you the second night.

“I’ll try again.” You answer softly. It took a few nights before these pillows became your favorite. Xavier was just happy that your neck wouldn’t hurt anymore.

You decided to face this overbearing fear of change and rearrange your room. The room had been the exact same since you moved in and you refused to change it. You got this burst of needing something different so you moved everything. All was well, bedtime, morning routine but suddenly that change felt uncomfortable.

When Rafayel came home he saw you moving the mattress back where it originally was. He slowly blinks at your actions. Didn’t you just move everything yesterday? You had a determined look on your face as you moved everything. He didn’t argue with you he knows how you get. Instead of asking questions he helps you put everything back.

“Didn’t like it?” He finally asks when it’s over, your exhausted bodies falling onto the mattress.

“Hated it.” You pant making him chuckle. He didn’t mind you thought this way because he of all people knew change was a hard thing to overcome.

You got a laptop for Christmas one year from Zayne. It became your favorite thing in the world. You would watch all your favorite videos on it. You took great care of it too! Zayne was glad you loved his gift and he loved seeing you smile every time you used it. That is until it broke, the second time. The first time was an easy fix since you sent it back to be fixed and all was well for a while.

This time it broke and wouldn’t turn back on. A ping sounded and it never came back on. This devastated you and you cried for a long time. This was your laptop and you loved it so much. Yeah it may have had its complications but it was your baby. You even tried to unscrew it and fix it yourself to which Zayne stopped you. He went with you to have it looked at and the people at the shop were very kind. They didn’t feel right taking money from you not knowing if they could even fix something this expensive.

“I just want my laptop.” You cried as Zayne comforted you on the couch. He knew how much this disheartened you.

“I know but they can’t fix it. Things get old and stop working. We’ll find you a new one.” He reassured you, wiping those tear stained cheeks.

You searched and searched for a computer that looked similar to your old one. You quit a few times saying you’ll just pay them whatever to fix whatever. Endless sad nights and you were even more upset because you couldn’t watch anything new on anything else but your beloved laptop. This was until you found the perfect laptop. It was from the same company and it looked similar to yours! You bought it so quick and when it came you were nervous that you’d hate it. You ended up absolutely adoring it.

“Feel better?” Zayne asks kissing your temple as you nod enthusiastically. He was happy you were happy. You did however keep the old one just in case and Zayne didn’t bother to ask about it.

Sylus is willing to make your life 100 times easier if you tell him to. So imagine him when you had to get rid of your raggedy old fan. You lost the cover of it in a move, it was stained beyond repair and the nail in the coffin? It began to make this clicking noise you just couldn’t stop. It has fallen over many times too many to count honestly Sylus has tried many times before to get you to get a new one. He offered to buy whatever you found and liked. You told him simply, you don’t like change.

You hated the noise and the temporary fix was to tie a fuzzy sock around it. You had enough and went to get a new one. You were in the aisle iffy about every single one you saw. You didn’t want to do this anymore. You love that fan, why can’t it just act right? Sylus showed you powerful ones and ones similar to your old one.

You settled on one and took it home and boy was it quiet and powerful. You were so happy and so was Sylus because it couldn’t possibly live through seeing that fan much longer. He was happy that you found something that fit you. He snapped his fingers making the fan disappear to the trash outside with a smile.

“Good riddance.” He smirked before getting ready for bed. You slept soundly that night cuddled into Sylus. He won’t lie he was in love with the fan too.

These are personal experiences? 😅🌚

[ippilulu]

To Be Seen - a Caleb drabble

a/n: Just me thinking about how at the end of the day, Caleb was just human. A little boy who voluntarily took on the weight of his world. Always the one being depended on, never the one who would depend on another. What does he do with all the feelings that he never lets see the light of day?

Caleb was familiar with resentment. For someone who banished it as soon as even the very thought of it entered his head, he was unwillingly quite familiar with it. Because in the end, his gravity evol didn't work inside him, unfortunately. It didn't let him erase all of those uncomfortable truths into a black hole.

It was always "Caleb, do this for me.", "Caleb, I want that!", "You're such a good brother, Caleb.", "Please, you're the only one who can!" Smile after smile after smile, an easy, effortless nod- a "Sure, why not?" following right after.

He's not complaining, of course. This was all his fault- he was the one insecure enough to let people pull him in all the directions they were going, losing parts of him as they did. How could he blame them for something he was so careful they wouldn't see?

He always wanted people to see the Caleb who smiled like he had all the answers in the world. Not the one broken by it. Not the one holding the weight of it, trying to hold onto her- his world.

After all, nobody would want Caleb the troublemaker, Caleb the whiner, Caleb the child. He'd buried those versions of him long ago when he'd vowed to become her shield, and he never regretted it once. If he could, he'd do it again. It was all for her. But some days... some days it got too much to keep hidden even from himself.

"...Caleb? You alright?" He shook his head, an instant smile appearing on his face. "Hey pipsqueak. Remembered I exist today, did you?" She rolled her eyes and hit him on the head. "You dummy, stop trying to hide it from me. What's wrong?"

The glimmer of worry in her eyes felt like a personal failure. How dare she ever have to worry about anything?, when he was still around?

But before he could deny it, she hugged him, leaning into the side of his hair. Her soft breathing fluttered some of the longer strands on top.

"What happened, Caleb?" He powers down his megawatt smile- there was no point to it anymore.

Caleb sighed. Hesitated. Planned out what to say. "... I... I don't know. I'm just..." Her hands gently scratched his scalp, and he huffed in laughter as he realised she was treating him like a cat.

"Caleb, could you run and get me some cinnamon?" She was staring at him so she immediately noticed the brief glimpse into his real feelings. "Sure, grand-" "Grandma, let me! I need to run a bit-getting really antsy stuck inside all day." The old voice resounded from the kitchen. "Sure, dear."

"Pip... What are you doing?" She got up, patting her muscles proudly. "These are gonna help me take real good care of you today."

Caleb flustered slightly, hiding it in another moment. "Woah there. You've gained what, and already showing off, huh?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, to which she rolled her own eyes and pat his head. "Get some rest, Caleb. You're exhausted." He shook his head, smiling again. "Nope! Slept a full five hours yesterday, so I'm all ready to go." She raised her eyebrows briefly, but shook her head.

"I'm not talking about now."

Oh.

Something within him loosened, just a bit. It felt so nice to be seen.

Reminder to everyone who reads this that you all deserve someone who sees you, and acknowledges every part of you. Don't bottle up those negative feelings in fear of pushing people away. I'm in the same boat, and it sucks. It's scary to even think about anything else, I know, but we can do this together 🫂 I'll be rooting for you!

[kahlaniolo]

PSYCHIATRIC PATIENT!CHRIS 002 ( 𝒊 )

SUMMARY reader returns for another tense check-in with christopher, noticing small cracks in his cold exterior. though he remains distant and bitter, he speaks a little more, and reader begins to pick up on subtle signs of his deeper struggles. a conversation with a co-worker reveals that most aides haven’t lasted long with him — but reader is determined to stay.

FEATURING psychiatric patient!chris x aide!reader

WORD COUNT roughly 1.5k.

CONTAINS mentions of mental health struggles, psychiatric hospital setting, patient aggression (verbal), mentions of past violence, tension, slow burn.

the next day felt heavier before it even began. you stood outside room 214 again, hand hovering near the door like you had to convince yourself to go in. you didn’t knock this time — dr. anderson had told you consistency was key with patients like christopher. same routine, same tone, same calm. so you pushed the door open quietly, stepping inside like it was any other day.

he was in the same spot as before. slouched in that chair by the window, eyes fixed somewhere far away. the only thing that changed was the untouched tray of food sitting on the table. breakfast. cold now.

you made a mental note. second day of no food.

“good morning, christopher.” your voice was calm, even though the tension in the room wrapped around your chest tight. he didn’t respond — didn’t even flinch. but you kept going, because that’s what you were trained to do.

you crossed the room, setting down a fresh cup of water next to the untouched tray. your eyes flickered to his hands — fists clenched on the armrests of the chair like he was ready for a fight that hadn’t started yet.

“i see you didn’t eat,” you said softly, keeping your distance. you weren’t here to force anything, but you needed to note it out loud. “if you’re not hungry, that’s okay. but i’ll make sure the kitchen sends up something different next time.”

still nothing.

you stood there for a beat longer, waiting, but his gaze never shifted. you turned toward the table again, picking up the papers you brought. daily logs, basic checklists. things that felt stupidly small in moments like this.

“i’ll be here for the next hour,” you added, keeping your tone neutral. “just to check in. no pressure.”

it was only then, after a long stretch of silence, that he spoke — voice low and rough like it hadn’t been used in days. “why do you keep showing up?”

you blinked, surprised by the question. not because it was rude — you expected that — but because it was more honest than yesterday. less venom, more exhaustion.

“it’s my job,” you answered plainly. “i was assigned to you.”

chris let out a sharp breath, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. bitter. “assigned. right.” he shifted in his chair finally, turning his head just enough to glance at you. “so you’re getting paid to babysit me.”

you met his eyes, steady. “i’m here to help you. whether that looks like babysitting to you or not.”

he rolled his eyes and looked away, muttering under his breath. you couldn’t catch all of it, but you heard something like “waste of time.”

still, you didn’t react. that was progress in its own, even if he didn’t want to admit it. yesterday, he wouldn’t even look at you. today, he questioned you. it was small, but it was movement.

you glanced down at the untouched food again. “if you change your mind about eating, let me know. i’ll get you something else.”

he didn’t answer.

so you sat, same chair as yesterday, keeping your presence known but not overbearing. you noticed the way his shoulders tensed whenever footsteps echoed down the hall, how his eyes flicked toward the door every time someone passed. little signs of a man who was always on edge, even when he looked cold and distant.

you didn’t mention it. not yet.

instead, you let the minutes stretch long, letting the silence settle between you two again. this wasn’t about filling space with words — it was about showing up. about proving, day by day, that you weren’t going to disappear like everyone else.

when your hour finally ticked by, you stood up slowly. “i’ll check in again this afternoon.” your voice stayed soft, professional. “same time.”

chris didn’t say anything, but this time, as you stepped toward the door, you felt his gaze follow you for a second longer than yesterday. a flicker. brief, but there.

you didn’t look back, didn’t push it. you just let the door click softly behind you.

outside the room, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. the hallway felt cooler, quieter, but your chest was still tight. you made your way back toward the front desk where maya, one of the senior aides, was flipping through charts.

she glanced up when she saw you. “how’d it go?”

you gave her a look that said don’t ask, but you answered anyway. “he spoke today. barely. but it’s something.”

maya raised a brow. “spoke?” she set the chart down. “that’s more than he’s done for most of us in weeks. he usually just stares past people until they give up.”

you leaned against the counter, voice dropping lower. “what’s his story? nobody’s told me much. just that he’s… difficult.”

maya exhaled, like the question weighed more than you knew. “christopher’s been in and out of places like this since he was fifteen. violent outbursts, isolation, trust issues — the whole file reads like a cautionary tale.” she paused, eyes flickering toward the hallway. “most aides don’t last more than a few days with him. he’s… rough.”

your chest tightened again, but not from fear. from something else. something closer to anger — not at him, but at the way everyone seemed to have already given up.

“well,” you muttered, straightening up, “i’m not most aides.”

maya gave you a long look, then nodded once. “we’ll see.”

by the afternoon, you were back at room 214. second check-in of the day, same routine. you knocked this time, even though you knew he wouldn’t answer.

when you stepped inside, chris was on the bed now, laying flat with one arm over his eyes. the tray from earlier was gone — someone must’ve picked it up — but the room still felt heavy with silence.

“afternoon check-in,” you said softly, announcing yourself like always. you stayed near the door for a beat before moving closer. “how are you feeling?”

he let out a dry laugh from under his arm. “same as this morning. miserable.”

your lips twitched — not quite a smile, but close. progress. “noted.”

you set down another cup of water, watching the way he peeked at you from under his arm, like he couldn’t help it. you noticed the dark circles under his eyes this time. noticed the way his jaw clenched every time the building creaked.

“still not hungry?” you asked, keeping your tone light.

he dropped his arm and turned his head to glare at the ceiling. “food here tastes like shit.”

you shrugged. “i can put in a request. might not be much better, but it’s worth a shot.”

he didn’t answer, but he didn’t tell you to leave either.

you took that as a win.

for the next half hour, you sat again — same chair, same spot. just existing in the space without pushing him. you could feel his eyes flick toward you every now and then, like he was waiting for you to crack first. to get frustrated.

but you didn’t. you stayed calm, stayed steady.

and by the time your shift ticked toward the end, you stood up again and said the same thing as before. “i’ll be back tomorrow.”

this time, chris didn’t scoff. didn’t laugh bitterly. he just watched you leave, face blank but eyes a little less sharp.

the door clicked shut behind you, and you let yourself exhale again.

small steps. but steps, all the same.

@kahlaniolo | all rights reserved :)

[dragonridersandhighlords]

Letters Never Sent | Bodhi Durran

Summary: After Bodhi Durran is declared missing and presumed dead, you’re left to clean out his room, only to uncover a cache of unsent love letters.

Requested by: @bodhidurrans

Pairing: Bodhi Durran x reader

Warnings: character death, intense grief and mourning, emotional intensity, no HEA

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist | FW Masterlist

The rain fell steadily the day they held Bodhi and Xaden’s memorial, a gray shroud that mirrored the heaviness in your heart. Missing in action, they had said—those words felt like a dagger, a kinder euphemism for the harsh truth: we have no body, and we’ve given up hope. 

You stood in silence as Garrick delivered the report, your throat tight, your gaze fixed on Violet’s hand squeezing yours, grounding you in a moment that felt unreal. But even as names were read, and the weight of grief filled the air, you remained dry-eyed, the tears stubbornly locked away.

The next day, you were called to clear out Bodhi’s room. Protocol dictated it; gather their belongings for the flames of Malek. If you were still at Basgiath, this would have happened yesterday, the room reassigned before the echoes of their laughter faded. 

But here you were now, stomach twisted in knots as you pushed open the door.

Bodhi had always been meticulous—his bed made with sharp corners, an ink bottle half-full on the desk, the familiar scent of paper and leather wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace. You moved with reverence, stacking books and folding his uniform jacket.

Then your eyes fell upon the floorboard, slightly uneven, as if it had been disturbed and hastily put back. Curiosity tugged at you, and you knelt, heart racing as you pried it loose. A small, worn wooden box was wedged within, its leather strip fraying, but the clasp surrendered easily under your trembling fingers.

Inside, you discovered letters—dozens of them, each folded with an intimacy that took your breath away. Some were ink-smudged, others marked by what could only be dried blood. But what caught your eye was the name written on each: not your last, not your rank, but simply your first name. Or at least what Bodhi called you

You read the first letter sitting on the edge of his bed, feeling like a ghost lingering in a dream that no longer belonged to you. And as you unfolded the fragile paper, the weight of unspoken words began to unravel the carefully stitched seams of your heart.

I shouldn’t be writing this.

You’d laugh if you saw me now, scribbling this by candlelight like some overdramatic tragic hero. But I needed to say something, even if I never send it. I think if I don’t get it out, it’ll rot in my chest.

You were incredible today. The way you stood your ground against that squad leader—I don’t think anyone else saw how hard your hands were shaking. But I did.

And I’ve never admired you more.

—B

You fold it back, gently. The paper crinkles softly under your touch, the familiar scent of ink and time wafting up, intertwining with the scent of leather that still clings to the room. Then you open the next letter.

When you went down during the breach, I thought my heart stopped.

I’ve never run so fast in my life. Not for medals. Not for glory. Just to see you move.

I didn’t say anything after. You joked about the scorch mark on your boot and I let you think I was annoyed. But the truth is, I sat awake that night, staring at your tent flap like an idiot, willing you to cough or sigh or anything, just to know you were still breathing.

I don’t know what this is.

But I know I feel it.

You don’t remember climbing onto the bed. It’s as if your body moved on instinct, a puppet dancing on strings woven from grief and longing. The room feels like a shrine, each object—a testament to a life half-lived, a laughter stifled by the cruel hand of fate. You settle among the tangled sheets, the fabric cool against your skin, yet somehow warm with the echo of Bodhi’s presence.

But as you sift through the letters, the pages crinkle under your trembling hands, the ink seems to shimmer with Bodhi’s essence. Each word is a lifeline thrown into the turbulent sea of your sorrow, and as you read, the world blurs around you. 

I think I’m in love with you.

I’m not going to say it aloud. Not while things are like this. But if something happens—if I don’t come back—I need you to know I wasn’t just watching you because we were in the same squad.

I watched you because I was terrified of a world where you didn’t exist in it.

And now I think I might be living in it.

—Bodhi

Your chest crumples inward. And finally—finally—you cry.

The tears come like a storm, breaking free from the dam of stoicism you had built around your heart. They fall hot and relentless, soaking the edge of the bed where Bodhi once lay, where laughter once echoed, now replaced with the suffocating silence of absence. Each sob seems to shake the very foundations of the room, sending dust motes dancing in the dim light filtering through the window, their chaotic waltz a reflection of the turmoil roiling within you.

You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. The world outside continues its relentless march forward, but within these four walls, time has become a cruel specter, taunting you with each passing hour. The letters become your lifeline—words inked with the essence of Bodhi, tangible traces of a love both cherished and unspoken.

You read every letter, your heart aching with every line. Some are tender, spilling over with affection and admiration, each word a thread weaving you closer to him, while others are messy, frantic, scrawled hastily on the backs of field maps. They speak of battles fought and fears unvoiced, a cacophony of thoughts and feelings that paint a picture of a man caught between duty and desire. One letter bears a corner burned, the charred edges whispering of danger and desperation, a reminder of the precarious line Bodhi walked between life and loss.

Another letter, more haunting, has blood along the fold, the brown-crimson flaking off on your fingertips like a ghostly imprint of his struggle. You trace the dried specks, a visceral reminder of the harsh reality of the world he inhabited, a world where love often falters under the weight of sacrifice. It feels as though he is reaching out to you through the ink, his spirit alive within those fragile pages, and you cling to every syllable, as though they might bring him back.

As you turn to the last letter, your heart quickens. The ink is still dark, the writing crisp, dated two days before he vanished. You unfold it with trembling hands, a whisper of hope mingling with the weight of despair. 

I’m going to do something reckless, something that could cost me everything. 

I can’t stop thinking about you. About what might happen if I don’t come back. 

I’m not going to tell you not to cry. I know you won’t listen. But I will tell you this:

I never said it because I was afraid you’d look at me like I was already dead.

I love you. And I didn’t want that love to become another wound you had to carry.

So I buried it. I buried it so deep, I think it kept me alive longer than I deserved.

Xaden has something for you. If he made it. If not… let this be enough.

Yours—Bodhi

But Xaden wasn’t here either. 

You let the truth settle into the pit of your stomach: he’s dead. Just like Bodhi. The finality of those words reverberated through the hollows of your mind, echoing the despair that had become your only companion. 

Gone without goodbye. 

For three days, the silence envelops you, a cocoon woven from threads of despair and disbelief. You drift through the hours like a ghost in your own life, the mundane tasks of existence reduced to mere automaton movements. The sound of your own voice feels foreign, an echo from a distant past where laughter rang freely and hope still flickered in the corners of your heart. 

On the fourth day, the silence within the four walls of your room is shattered by a sudden knock at the door, sharp and insistent. You ignore it, cocooned in your grief, retreating deeper into the shadows where pain feels more familiar than the light of hope. But then comes a pounding, urgent and desperate, reverberating against the hollow emptiness of your heart. 

“Open up! You need to follow me!” Violet gasps, her voice a frantic lifeline tugging at your consciousness. Her eyes are wide and you feel an unsettling knot tighten in your stomach. The last time you had seen her like this—when she had pulled you away from Bodhi’s room—it had heralded devastation. 

Yet, without waiting for your response, she bursts into the room, her urgency propelling you forward. You stumble behind her, your pulse spiking with anxiety as your mind races with dreadful possibilities.

But then she halts abruptly before the guarded door of the infirmary. A weight hangs thick in the air, and no one speaks; their faces mirror the quiet dread that curls around your heart. The door creaks open, revealing the stark interior, and you step inside—your breath catching in your throat as the world around you blurs into insignificance.

There he is, slumped in a chair, a figure of fractured resilience. He is half-covered in bandages, a patchwork of blood, dirt, and ash staining his skin. His arm hangs uselessly in a sling, and the hollows of his cheeks echo the toll of suffering. Exhaustion etches lines across his face, bruising shadows marking the journey he has endured. Dried blood snakes its way down one temple, a grim testament to the battle he has fought.

"Xaden?"

But then, he lifts something weakly from his lap—an object that seems to shimmer with the weight of unspoken words. A crumpled envelope. “This,” he rasps, his voice a fragile thread weaving through the tension. “He gave it to me. Said if he didn’t make it… you had to see me give it.” 

Your heart races, every instinct screaming for you to reach out. Your hand shakes as you take it from him, the envelope warm against your skin. It is unsealed, inviting yet foreboding, as you slide out the single page nestled within. 

Don’t let her spend the rest of her life wondering if it was real.

—Bodhi

Your knees nearly buckle beneath the weight of the moment, the room spinning as the realization settles like a heavy fog in your mind. Xaden, barely upright, stands before you—a specter of resilience wrapped in pain. His presence feels surreal, like a mirage in the desert of your despair. The familiar contours of his face are marred by bruises, shadows clinging to him as if the very act of living had become a battleground.

“He never shut up about you.” His voice is rough, each word a jagged reminder of everything you have lost and everything you have yet to confront. 

A sound escapes your lips—a broken, tremulous mix of a cry and laugh that betrays the turmoil within you. It rises unbidden, raw and vulnerable, weaving through the air like a thread of hope desperately clinging to existence. 

“He made me promise. Even when we were cornered. Even when I thought we were both going to die. He said it didn’t matter if the mission failed—this was what mattered. You. Making sure you knew.”

As you speak, your lips tremble, and the memories flood back: Bodhi’s laughter, his fierce determination, the warmth of his affection that had, until now, felt like a distant dream. “I read the others,” you confess, the weight of his words pressing down upon your heart. 

Xaden nods, slow and deliberate, as if each movement is an echo of the battles fought and the scars borne. “He knew you might. Said you’d either be furious or cry yourself stupid.”

“Both,” you whisper, the admission heavy on your tongue as the truth of it washes over you like a tide.

Silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and shared grief. In the quiet, you can almost feel the warmth of Bodhi’s spirit enveloping you, a fleeting presence that both comforts and pierces your heart. 

Xaden’s voice shifts, a gentle current breaking through the weighty silence. “He loved you. He died loving you.” 

The ache in your chest intensifies, a visceral reminder of everything that has been taken from you. “I know,” you manage, blinking against the swell of tears that threatens to spill over.

“Good.” He leans back slightly, wincing as he shifts. The sight of him, battered yet standing, ignites a flicker of something deep within you. You clutch the last note Bodhi had written, the crumpled paper cradled in your palm like a fragile treasure, a piece of him that remains.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Xaden steps forward, closing the distance between you with a tenderness that feels almost foreign. He wraps you in a hug, a shield against the chaos of the world outside, and in that embrace, the dam holding your grief bursts. The tears flow freely now, a cathartic release that mingles with the warmth of his presence, grounding you amidst the storm.

If you're crying, I'm sorry...

Everything Taglist: @lxnvmvrzx @bodhidurrans @bookwormysblog @nikfigueiredo

[polarisjisung]

COSMIC FEELINGS

synopsis: The rain had its oceans. The sun had its moon, everything had a reason for falling—and you had him. With Park Jisung, you were always falling: falling down, falling short, falling in love. But sometimes, love isn’t enough. And sometimes, love is all you need.

wc: 3.3k pairings: ex bf! jisung × fem! reader genre: angst, fluff, exes to lovers warnings: swearing, loserish pining ig notes: can you tell i like the exes to lovers trope ... anyways HAPPY JISUNG DAY!! tried something a little interstellar and cosmic themed for our favourite space nerd and NASA lover jisung.. I hope you like it gang ! gotta stay true to my user iykwim | LIBRARY

Today marked exactly 6 months.

6 months since everything fell apart. 

The time had stretched by, hours like days, weeks like months, and the nights dragged on, even longer. 

You struggle to believe that you and Jisung broke up only 6 months ago. It could have been six years, six centuries, or even six lifetimes, and it would all feel the same—an endless expanse of time. 

It wasn't healthy, you supposed, because in each and every waking moment, the thoughts of him clouded your mind. His name was on your lips, repeated like a mantra, day in and day out.

And the nights? 

They'd swallow you whole, pulling you into their eternal embrace, the minutes dragging on, slipping through your fingers like stardust.

Every night, he invaded your sleep. His face, his laugh, the way he looked when he’d roll his sleeves up a little too high. 

You could trace every inch of him if you closed your eyes—those familiar grooves in his hands, the faint scars across his skin, each imperfection etched into your mind. Pain you could never erase, left only for you to commit to a beautiful memory. 

To you, Park Jisung was the sun, the moon and all the stars in the sky. 

Eternal, radiant and yet so very distant.

As you stood on the balcony, feeling the weight of the empty space beside you, you sighed. You didn’t remember when the sky had become so empty, but it felt like it had been that way for years. 

The constellations that once felt familiar now seemed like strangers, their lights flickering in ways you couldn't recognise.

When you lay down, hoping to take your mind off of him, you remembered how you used to lie together. 

Beside you, the bed sunk with emptiness, and you recalled how your hands had traced the starry formations against his skin, mapping the universe as your fingers brushed over his.

In those moments, you swore you could taste the stars in his words, the way he’d speak of them—of space, of time, of you. 

Park Jisung called you beautiful, like it was your name. He loved you like it was all he knew. And in his eyes, you saw a future made of light, of endless skies, of forever. A forever with you.

But now, the stars looked different—fainter, perhaps. The moon, too, seemed smaller tonight. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe it was just the weight of how long it had been since he called you his sky. 

You caught yourself wondering if he was out there, somewhere beneath the same curtain of noir, staring up at the same stars, feeling the same tug in his chest. In his heart.

Truly, you don't know how it happened. But you remembered it like it was yesterday.

The rain tapped against the window in a steady, unrelenting rhythm, the kind that made the world outside look like a blurred painting, colors mixing into nothingness. 

Inside, your apartment was quiet—too quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the soft rustle of Jisung’s jacket as he dropped it by the door. The clock on the microwave read well past midnight.

04:25

You had just gotten home after work.

You stood by the kitchen counter, your calloused fingers gripping its edge as you stared down at the chipped mug in front of you, the steam from your tea rising in slow spirals. 

Your eyes were tired, red, dark circles hinting at restless nights. You hadn’t expected him—hadn't even wanted him to come. You didn't have the energy for it. For him.

But here Jisung was, standing in the entryway, his hair damp from the rain, his hoodie hanging loosely around his shoulders. 

The space between you felt too wide, too heavy.

"You didn’t have to come," you said, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

You shouldn't have, Jisung heard.

He didn’t move immediately. His gaze lingered on you, on the way your shoulders hunched as though the weight of your silence was pressing down on you. 

He exhaled sharply and crossed the room to stand beside you.

The space was still there, the one that had always been between you two these past few months, like an invisible chasm that neither of you had known how to cross.

"Y/n, I—" Jisung stopped himself. His words, heavy as they were, seemed to hang in the air, too fragile to be spoken. 

He hadn't seen you in weeks. Not properly at least, only through 2 minute FaceTime calls and quick selfies snapped between the times you'd head to work and to sleep. 

And you hadn't seen him, perhaps if you had it would've been easier to notice the deepening bags beneath his eyes, how his cheeks were beginning to hollow. How every part of him reflected you, dull and lifeless.

Jisung was an open book before you, yet at this moment, you were blind to his pages. Illiterate in the way of his unspoken words.

You swallowed hard, blinking back the warmth threatening to rise in your chest. 

"What are we doing, Jisung?"

His lips tightened. He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before he pulled back, as if the contact was too much, too little all at once.

What were you doing? 

Jisung wished he knew.

You were both trying, he was sure of that much, but it felt as though your efforts bred different results, like you aimed for the same thing and ended up in opposite directions. 

Relentlessly, you had tried and tried and tried, but no amount of effort seemed enough. Like nothing could save you. A cruel twist of fate.

"We’re both drowning," Jisung said, his voice low, almost lost in the noise of the storm outside. "In everything... and there's no space left. Not for us. Not for anything."

You turned your back to him now, because facing him felt too much like watching something break. "I know." You said.

There was nothing else to say, nothing left. 

Still, Jisung had hoped you'd continue.

You didn't.

You didn’t have the energy for it. 

Between work, and the extra degree you'd all too ambitiously decided to start studying, the basic necessities, like sleeping, and eating, there was no time left. Like a robot, you only did what you were programmed to do, and it seemed Jisung was no longer part of your code.

He waited for your denial. It never came.

You barely had time for yourself, you didn't in fact, so how could you argue that you had time for Jisung, for your love?

You couldn't correct his words, not when he hadn't said anything wrong. 

So you stayed quiet.

The silence was no longer comfortable. It stretched between you like an unwelcome presence, suffocating in its weight. 

Jisung wanted to reach for you, to hold you like he used to, but every time he moved, it felt forced, it felt wrong. The timing had always been wrong. Schedules clashing.  

You had become ghosts in each other’s lives.

"I miss you," he whispered, as though admitting it would make it hurt less. It only made the ache deepen. "But I’m not sure I know how to be the person you need anymore."

Your breath hitched in your throat. "I know, I’m sorry."

Jisung’s chest tightened, his hand balling into a fist at his side. The weight of your words settled on his ribs, pressing down on him. 

He had never wanted this.

Never wanted to stand here, in this cold apartment, feeling the distance that had crept between you two over the weeks, the months.

And yet, here you were, saying things you hadn’t said in so long. Truths that had long been buried under the weight of your hectic lives.

The rain beat harder against the glass, as if the world outside had heard the finality in your voices. 

You closed your eyes, your fingers brushing the edge of the counter. 

The room was too still, too heavy with everything unsaid.

"I love you, you know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “but it's too selfish of me to expect you to do the same, even now.” 

Jisung nodded slowly, the motion jerky, like something inside him was unraveling. 

He hadn’t come here to say goodbye. 

But the words had already formed, and the door was already closing, even if neither of you had pushed it shut.

“Maybe it's best if we break up.” 

"I'm sorry," he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "For everything."

You nodded in return, your gaze fixed on the rain outside. "I am too."

And with that, the space between you two grew wider, a gap neither of you could bridge, no matter how hard you tried. 

The storm outside wasn’t the loudest thing in the room anymore. It was the silence, growing heavier, thicker, until it swallowed you both whole.

And then, he was gone.

You told yourself you were fine, told yourself that moving on was just part of life, that you'd get over it. You'd heal. But as you went about your days, the ache never fully disappeared. Instead, it had faded into a dull throb, a constant reminder of what once was. The endless longing had inserted itself into your routine, and you'd learnt to live with the pain. 

But when you saw his name pop up on your phone, the world, your world, had tilted on its axis, orbited too much, too fast and too far. All at once, your throat constricted and you gasped for air, shaking, trembling.

You couldn't breathe.

In the moments it took you to gather enough courage to read the text beneath his contact, your heart raced, your palms sweat and the weight in your chest intensified. So foreign, yet so familiar. 

It was exhilarating.

Jisung always made you feel this way, electric, ablaze— like the universe ran through your veins.

The message was simple: "can we talk".

No punctuation, no personality—the same as the first time Jisung had ever texted you. 

It was dry, it was boring and yet it planted that same quiet curiosity in your chest as it had years ago. Before Jisung had sunk beneath your bones and nurtured that deep-rooted familiarity into the only thing, the only feeling, the only experience that you could ever call love. 

You didn't respond right away, though your fingers hovered over the screen. The hesitation gnawed at you, for a moment you considered not responding at all. A long moment.

But it was the memory of his eyes, the way he'd looked at you before everything fell apart, that forced you to tap out a reply. How could you ever say no?

Though you're not sure falling apart was the right term. 

You and Jisung had crumbled, piece by piece, atom by atom. 

Your light had dimmed, your nebula collapsed— everything caved in on itself. Slowly but surely, your strengths, your weaknesses, your love. 

You had imploded.

The coffee shop was small, cosy, almost like a memory. 

Pink walls and tall ceilings, the soft murmur of conversations and the clink of mugs create a comforting background, with the same warm lighting overhead that you had always loved.

You hadn't been here in months, and you felt the nostalgia creeping in, coming through smiles from regular customers and greetings from the baristas. It had been so long, too long. 

But strangely, you didn't miss it as much as you thought you would.

Still, amongst the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the pastel walls of the building, it felt warm, easing the tightness in your chest ever so slightly. 

You sat waiting for Jisung, tucked away in a booth just next to the window. 

You had arrived earlier than the both of you had agreed, hoping the nerves would settle if you had accustomed to your surroundings. 

You weren't so sure that was the case now. 

Too many questions clouded your thoughts, what did he want to talk about, and why so suddenly? He had only messaged you last night, agreeing to meet the next morning—today. 

And if there was one thing you knew about Jisung, it was that he rarely, if ever, acted on impulse. 

His urgency was disconcerting, to say the least. 

But your thoughts didn't end there. 

You wondered if he had changed, if he was still the Jisung you loved, or a new version you wouldn't recognise. 

Sure, it had been 6 months since you broke up, but it had been far more since you saw Jisung, really saw him, not just the 2 second check ins and the 5 minute calls. 

You shifted in your seat, a shiver running down your spine. A bitter taste sat in your tongue.

Behind you, the sound of the door opening brought a rush of emotion—like your heart recognised him before your mind had the chance.

Jisung was standing there, hands stuffed into his pockets, eyes darting around as if he wasn’t sure where to go. 

But then, they locked on you.

And just like that, the months between you disappeared.

He smiled. It was a quiet thing, more like an exhale than an expression. The same smile that you knew so well, and had told you countless times that things would be okay. 

You hoped it could do the same today. 

“Hey,” he said, voice softer than you remembered. The warmth in it making your chest tighten.

You nodded, unsure of how to start. 

Your throat felt tight, like there were a thousand things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for.

“Do you… do you want to sit?” you asked, gesturing to the chair across you.

He nodded again and you watched as he settled in, eyes not leaving yours. 

The silence was thick, heavy, like the air was holding its breath. You were too. 

It felt like Jisung was waiting for you to speak, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap. 

You never knew how when it came to him. Not when the distance between you had never been there in the first place.

He spoke first. 

“How have you been?” his gaze was gentle, tender, a half smile rested across his lips as he spoke.

“Fine.” you choked out, really as convincingly as you possibly could. 

But Jisung clicked his tongue.

He knew, you thought. 

How could he not? 

You and Jisung were born from the same star, he echoed your emptiness, and you reflected his light.

Of course he knew.

“Really?” he sighed, raking a hand through his now dark blue hair, “Because I haven't been.” Jisung sighed, locking his eyes with yours once again, only this time he didn't dare to look away, speaking with conviction, with determination.

“I miss you. So much. It kills me to wake up and see that you're not next to me” Jisung gulps, holding back in every aspect but verbally, “I even miss you now, when you're sat across from me, because I don't just miss seeing you, I miss knowing you.” he pauses,”I miss loving you.” 

Jisung's voice is heavy with each breath he takes, and fuck, he feels like he's floating when your gaze softens beneath his, choked with tenderness for you. 

He wants nothing more than to bask in the sweetness of your voice, to drown in your moonlit eyes and show you all the little stars in his heart.

Jisung's not done yet though, there's so many things left to say, too many in fact, but nothing more pressing than this.

“I regret it.” 

He feels the weight lift off his shoulders, like he can sit up straighter as each syllable falls from his lips, “I regret not telling you then how much you meant to me, how much I didn't want this to happen to us.” 

How much I loved you

Carefully, you listen, like every word is sacred. 

You don't speak, you don't nod, you don't even move.

Scared that the slightest disturbance would fray your concentration and you'd miss every small signal Jisung sent towards you, like the fire in his soul wasn't contagious, like that fire wasn't ignited by you.

“You weren't just part of my life Y/n, and I'm an idiot for not having realised sooner. You were my life. You are my life.”

There was a pause. You didn’t know how to respond to that.

Meanwhile, Jisung's lips curl upwards unconsciously.

It had taken him half a year, six months, twenty-six weeks, one hundred and eighty-two days to finally give his truth a voice. 

And God, was it liberating.

Jisung had loved you in every life, he thinks, like you were written on every molecule he ever became. Your souls intertwined. Star-crossed.

He watched closely as you processed his words, the glow in his eyes growing warmer with each second he let them rest on you. You were yet to respond, but you knew, Jisung hadn’t a care in the world aside from that, it only mattered to him that you knew. 

There was a knocking at your chest, a feverish swelling, innocuous, like flowers blooming through the cracks of your ribs. Like your whole body had been struck by lightning.

But you couldn't move.

The stillness coated your limbs, spreading across your entire being, a strange sort of paralysis that only seemed to occur when he was around. 

“I love you,” he said, suddenly, sharply cutting through the silence.

“I don’t expect anything,” he continued, his voice thick with regret. “I just… I needed you to know.”

His words hit harder than you expected, and you flinched inwardly, trying to keep your composure.

The ache in your chest grew, the familiar pang of loss creeping in. 

You thought you had buried it, locked it away in the back of your mind, but now it was surfacing, raw and insistent. 

You didn't know what you wanted from this, what you hoped would happen now. It wasn’t like before, when you could just run to him and everything felt right. 

This time, it felt like a dream—something you couldn’t quite touch. Distant. 

An interstellar love, but you weren't capable of defying gravity.

Or maybe you were just so damn scared that this was another moment where you'd let yourself fall for him all over again, only to end up with the same broken pieces.

Perhaps it would have been easier to hate him.

Your silence stretched on, his words lingering in the air between you.

Jisung's knee began to bob impatiently beside you, though his expression was still just as comforting as before. 

He sat, awaiting your response. 

“I love you.” he repeated. 

“Again?” you breathed out, finally.

“Still.” he confessed. “Desperately, selfishly, irrevocably, I still love you”

Oh.

“I thought you were happy,” you managed to say, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I thought you were better off without me.”

I thought you were over me

His eyes softened, but there was something almost painfully raw in them, like a wound that had a band aid slapped carelessly over the top, unable to heal.

“I never was. But I convinced myself I could be,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I thought there was no point if i couldn't even see you, no point in us, no point fighting.”

He sighed, running his tongue across his cheek, “I was wrong, so fucking wrong.” Jisung knew that, and it had cost him everything.

You nod. Part of you wanted to leap with joy, and another part of you wanted to cease to exist. 

But all of you wished he had said those words sooner.

You hadn't realised when you’d caught your bottom lip between your teeth, but it had gone raw from how you'd been constantly biting at it. 

You hadn't noticed until you felt Jisung's gentle touch against your lips, his thumb guiding your lip out from your clenched jaw, his hand resting beneath your chin.

He didn't say much, instead Jisung quietly shook his head. 

And then it hit you.

Every beautiful quirk, every perfect imperfection, everything that so delicately composed Park Jisung, you saw it all then. 

Everything you loved.

He had the sun in his smile, the stars in his eyes, he loved like the moon, through every phase, eternal and silent. Like a promise, celestial.

It came crashing down on you, like an asteroid would the earth. Beautifully, crushingly.

“I love you too.” 

It had been 6 months since you saw Jisung, and you loved him all the same, like he'd hung all the stars in the sky.

Jisung smiled at you, like a match catching fire. Like he had been waiting for ignition.

And in that instant, you realised—he wasn’t just a star in your sky.

He was a supernova, brilliant and all-consuming, collapsing and expanding in the same breath, burning, not just with you, but for you.

Love like his didn’t fade quietly; it burned, it devoured, it reshaped the very fabric of the universe.

And as the fire took hold, you didn’t run.

You let it consume you.

Because some loves aren’t meant to flicker.

Some loves are made to explode.

tags: @yizhrt @suzayaaa @nanawrlds @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @flaminghotyourmom @jisworlds @jenobubbles @nctdreamchaser @lotties-readings @mystverse @chenlezip @blondemrk

[soonwoosz]

producer! woozi x reader

------------------

you sighed, turning the lights off as the practice room door closed behind you. the hour hand on the clock striked 3, signalling the soon-to-start new day of routine for trainees in the company.

however, the lights to the studio - woozi's studio - at the end of the hallway shined brightly through the glass.

being all too familiar with the place, you didn't hesitate to push open the door and visit your lovely producer.

woozi had grown a little more relaxed since you first saw him yesterday, but his exhaustion was still evident. he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration.

you quietly approached his desk, eyes scanning over the monitor filled with tabs and tabs of sound clips and producing instruments. there were still a few things to finalize, but the tiredness was written all over woozi's face - he just wasn’t willing to admit it.

"jihoon-ie, are you heading back to the dorm today?" you gently asked, softly patting his back.

you remembered he had eaten dinner together with the members when practice ended at 1am, and now all that was left was for him to rest.

woozi glanced at her, the corners of his lips curling into a small, tired smile. “i will in a bit, just need to finish this one thing.”

you shook your head and sighed. “you’re impossible.” You turned his chair to face you, forcing him away from the screen. “come on, it’s late, woozi. just take a break.”

He sighed, shaking his head while prying your hands away from his chair to go back into his producing. you noticed how his head tilted slightly to the side as he slouched, a sign that woozi was beginning to succumb to exhaustion. you weren't sure if it was the overwhelming amount of work, or just the late hours, but the tiredness in his eyes grew stronger by the second.

you tried again.

"how about a short nap before you continue?" his hands faltered, the suggestion finally tempting him.

you smiled, moving over to pull a blanket off his couch, patting the soft material to call him over and lie down. "just for a bit, i'll make sure no one disturbs you."

woozi trudged over, collapsing on the couch. his body sank into the softness of it, eyes immediately closing as you tucked him in.

"you don't have to do this, you know," he spoke, eyes still shut. "i know." you smiled, taking a seat on the floor beside him to accompany him.

the quiet, peaceful atmosphere enveloped you quickly, the weariness from the past few hours began to settle in your own bones. and slowly, without realising, you drifted off into a light nap, head resting against the armrest of the couch where woozi laid.

------------------

hours passed, and the quiet morning unfolded around you. the soft sound of birds from the trees outside, and occasional shuffle of woozi's blanket were the only noises in the room.

at some point, woozi woke up to find the studio still dimly lit, but the light outside his window had seemed to turn brighter. you were no longer seated beside him on the floor. instead, he saw you slumped against the couch, body curled slightly into a position that looked uncomfortable.

his heart softened at the sight.

it was clear that you hadn't even realised how tired you yourself had been, yet your selflessness had caused you to unknowingly fall asleep while taking care of him. This was always been something about you that made him appreciate you more than he could ever express.

carefully, he reached over and gently moved a strand of hair away from your face. he didn't want to wake you; looking so peaceful, so comfortable for the first time in what felt like a long while.

but he still couldn’t let you sleep on the floor. Woozi was tired too, but he was much more aware of your well-being at that moment. his tired hands, still a bit shaky, carefully scooped you up into his arms.

you stirred slightly as he lifted you, but the movement wasn't enough to wake you up.

woozi carefully laid you down on the couch, making sure you were covered with the blanket. he gently tucked it around your body, his hands lingering for a moment before pulling away.

he paused, standing at the edge of the couch and looking down at you with a soft expression. “thank you, for all you do for me,” he whispered, although you couldn’t hear him.

woozi sat down beside her, resting his back against the arm of the couch. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a moment, letting the silence wash over him - and for the first time in what felt like forever, woozi found himself able to relax for the moment, knowing you were both at peace.

------------------

끝

a/n i've been feeling super soft for woozi recently :(( enjoy!!

[blueberry-rose]

Overworked!Arlecchino x wife!reader

Warnings: fluff, nudity

Arlecchino’s been working so hard. Coming home late, she already wakes up before you and goes the bed after you, you get that her work is important but you miss being able to sit in her arms as just relax while the kids sleep. Plus you hate seeing those creases under her eyes because she not sleeping enough to the point where you will go up to her and pout until she finally goes to bed with you but that’s not helping considering you have caught her waking up at four in the morning and getting ready for work. You hate seeing her so overworked.

So you decided to do something that will make her relax at least a bit. You knew she was going to be mad at you but she’ll get over it. You turned her alarm off. Forcing her to sleep in a bit at least. You turned off your alarm too just so you had an excuse to lay in her arms longer. You felt her grip tighten stirring you from your sleep. “Mhm” you cuddled into her arms more.

“Dear, did you unplug my alarm clock?” You opened your eyes barely awake.

“What?” You questioned your eyes barely focusing on her face, her brows creasing, her face clean of makeup, her bags even more noticeable.

“Did you unplug my alarm, dear?” Her voice was more firm adding the dear to seem more gentle.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I had to clean behind our bedside tables.” It was a lie and Arlecchino could tell.

“Did you just lie to me”

“I can’t get anything past you” you let a pout form on your face.

“Why?” oh she’s mad.

“Because you’ve been overworking yourself. And I’m your wife so I have every right to make you take care of yourself.”

“And how dear, are you going to do that? I still can go to work for another 10 minutes and still make in on time.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep you busy until you can’t go to work”

“Oh?” You climbed on her straddling her hips, “someone’s eager” you started to press kisses to her face.

“Eager for my husband to take a day off”

“Are you wanting me to yourself today.”

“Mhm” you pressed a kiss to her lips. She quickly deepened it, her hands rest on your hips holding you in place.

“Fuck, you look so cute like this.” Arlecchino’s thumbs rubbed circles on your hips. “So what does my little wife have planned that she had to keep me home”

“I’m going to pamper you.”

“What?” Her eyes widened slightly.

“You always pamper me when I get stressed out, or overwhelmed. So I’m going to return the favor”

“Dear, I pamper you because I like to.”

“So let me pamper you this time, please” archons arlecchino can’t say no to your pleading eyes. You know she can’t.

“Fine. Just this once.” You placed a gentle kiss to her nose, before she pulled you into a kiss, her lips were so soft against yours. Her tongue easily over powering yours. She loves seeing how quickly you submit to her tongue letting her lead, she loves seeing you lose your breath just because she’s kissing you. When she finally releases your lips you were out of breath, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to hers. “Go on why do you show me how you’re going to pamper me” you got off her lap much to her disappointment.

“I might have gone out yesterday and got something’s”

“Ahh spending my money to pamper me”

“Hey, you told me that I would never have to work again when we got married so our money”

“I’m the one that makes it.”

“You make to much money for one lifetime”

“Just means I get to spend more on you”

“Be quiet will you I want to do something you for once”

“Careful what you say, dear. I don’t like when my little brat tries to take control.” You just stuck your tongue out before retreating to the bathroom. You heard her let out a sigh as you shut the door.

That’s when you started your little plan to take care you her stress. You turned on the water to a nice warm temperature, Arlecchino always liked her showers hot because of the cursed fire in her veins though she’s not picky. Cold or hot doesn’t matter. It wasn’t long before the mirrors fogged up. That’s when you grabbed the bag of stuff you brought yesterday night and hid under the sink. It had Epson salt, roses, and candles, red and black of course. You carefully remove the pedals off the roses decorating the bathroom floor with them and adding them to the bathtub. Then you set up the candles, lighting them carefully arranging them on the countertops, you sprayed the water a bit with your perfume, than added the epson salt. You know your husband is always alert, her muscles tense so you are hoping that this will help her relax. You peek out that bathroom after turning off the light bathing the bathroom in warm candle light.

You walked up to arlecchino, she finally got out of bed even with her heels off she towers over you, you never complained though, and she definitely doesn’t not with how much she calls you adorable and tiny. As so as she was within reach your started to remove her clothes, surprising her.

“You’re bold today dear,”

“Just let me take care of you, you don’t need to tease”

“Oh but you are so cute when you blush” after successfully getting her clothes off you grabbed her darkened hand pulling her in the bathroom. She stood there surprised for a second. “Dear, you did this? I might have to overwork more often”

You playfully smacked her arm. “Don’t you dare.”

“So demanding.” She tilted your head up with her index finger and thumb and placed a gentle kiss to your lips, “why don’t you join me love, I would hate to be in such a romantic setting all alone.”

“It’s supposed to be a gift for you.”

“It would be even better if I had you in my arms.”

“Fine, just let me get something first.”

“I guess I’ll get comfortable while I wait.” You left the bathroom and went to get some wine, and two cups. Hoping to spend the whole day just in her arms. And when you got but you saw your husband in the tub, eyes closed head leaning against the wall, arms resting on the side of the tub. “Welcome back dear” she didn’t even open her eyes but you can swear you see a faint smile, she rarely even shows you her emotions.

“I brought something to help you relax even more”

“Oh?” she opened her eyes turning her head to face you. “I see, my little wife is trying to make it impossible for me to get anything done today”

“Yep” you open the bottle and poured you both a cup. Handing her hers before you started to slip out of your clothes. You could feel her eyes never leaving the sight of you, like a predator to a pry. You then grabbed your wine before stepping into the tub, your wife’s legs opened so you could sit between them, you sat down in the tub the water was perfect, you let out a little sigh leaning back into your husband, her arms wrapping around you immediately.

“Looks like you needed this as much as I did”

“I am the mother of the house, I’m the one that has to deal with the children all day.”

“Yes but we have caretakers dear. You can take a day off to the little ones have older siblings that can take care of them too”

“I know. But I’m their mother I want to take care of them”

“I know dear,” she placed a gentle kiss to your head. “And you do an amazing job the kids are even more happy then I’ve ever seen them”

“Really?”

“Yes, you do amazing every day my dear. I couldn’t be prouder of you. My love.”