#I started working on that one thing-- and this happened?????

[madamechrissy]

Took you Like a Shot tagist/preview

Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader

Summary- One VERY drunk encounter between your greatest rival ever - on your last day of college- leads to you being knocked up. Satoru Gojo, a fuckboy, fratboy, rich little jerk, has been a rival of yours since you all met in College, but for some reason, life is playing some damn joke on you both. Now... you have to tell him the news - but how Satoru takes it surprises you.

Contents/Warnings- gonna be flashbacks to the rivalry/that night, nerdjo but make him a fratboy, enemies to kind of begrudging partners, but then as the pregnancy progresses, they fall in love hehe- fluffy and smutty, MDNI -will have explicit sex etc, 3-4 parts -art in the banner by Yuana on X

Story preview below- MDNI- Comment to get added to the taglist <3

It had been an absolutely filthy night, that led to your doctor coming in and informing you three months later-

'You're pregnant'

You came in for a normal checkup, you're on the pill and you have no sex life, aside from one encounter over three months ago. A filthy, questionable ass encounter with what so happened to be your former 'bully' - rich boy, frat boy, pretty boy, pretentious boy- Satoru Gojo.

For years, the two of you were rivals, not just academic either, since you were both top of your class all through college, but at everything. He'd hold your notebooks high and laugh at you, he'd try to ruin and crash every sorority event he could. Known as the Queen and King of the campus, you ran the rivaling Sorority to his Fraternity. The amount of times you all had gone toe to toe was literally notorious, even your best friends hated each other on your behalf, starting an entire war between you all.

You have no clue how it happened, still, how the two of you had the best sex of your life at that damn party, fueled by drinks but also something you'd never admit- you've always wondered. Hearing those stories about his... skills, seeing his perfect body and the way his pretty lips smirked so cruelly your direction, even after all these years- how it all led to this moment.

'Hah, sweets, ya finally admit I'm good at something?' Satoru had murmured in your ear, while he'd had you bent right over some bed at some party- both of you were seniors in college on your last and final party, finally you thought you'd be rid of him, of this ass of a man. He was going to live the rich life, working for his family, you were moving on to a whole different career.

'One t-thing... that's it...' You had cried out when his cock had shoved in so deep, making you cum all over him, his fingers gripping your hips while he'd pumped deeper and deeper, impossibly until he'd been right on your cervix. 'F-fuck!'

'Fuck... you had a pussy like this and we've been fighting!?' Satoru is whispering, resting his snowy locks against your neck, biting it with sharp teeth as you milk his cock. 'so greedy, huh?'

'S-shut up, mnh- just... keep... there, there shit!' Satoru had slammed right against your cervix, feeling you pulsing around him, it had been too good, too tight, too fucking wet, he'd paused then, looking at your arched ass, your skirt shoved over your hips. 'Keep g-going, please...'

'M'gonna cum, tho-she's too tight- shit can I?'

Your drunk ass had said- sure. You're precise on that pill, every day your alarm goes off in the morning, you take it. How could...

"Pregnant!?" You repeat. Unbelievable. No fucking way. You...

"Yes sweetie I suggest prenatal and an ultrasound, hmm?" The nurse says so sweetly, as you feel sick to your stomach, which your hand goes down to touch.

Pregnant. With rich, notorious fuckboy Satoru Gojo’s baby- now you would have to tell him!?

Shit.

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[kxtsukixoxo]

just in case // katsuki bakugou

emergency contacts were something you never considered important, you knew if anything had happened you’d tell them to call your significant other, but for some odd reason katsuki threw a tantrum until you added his number to your emergency contacts and added him as a legacy contact, allowing him to access your data if you ever died. 

just in case. 

you didn’t remove him, even after the breakup. you laid on your side, nuzzling into the covers with your phone in one hand as you reviewed your details, updating the necessary information. you finally reached it. his name with an orange heart next to it. you didn’t bother changing his contact name or deleting it too, it felt like a waste of time. you placed your phone onto pillow next to yours, the very same pillow katsuki once fell asleep on. 

you’d be a formidable liar if you ever said you didn’t miss waking up next to him, as the soft hues of daylight shone onto his soft skin, his blonde hair gleaming with life, as you placed a kiss on his forehead. the memory lulling you into a deep sleep. 

you woke up in ice cold sheets, no form of body heat from the empty space next to you, no snoring, just quiet.

following the cycle you did every single day, shower, go to work, get into your car and drive back home. 

“good evening, this is Jaku General Hospital, am i speaking to Katsuki Bakugou?” 

“yes you are.” 

“i regret to inform you that [y/n] [l/n] has sadly passed away, we decided that we should call you first since you were part of her emergency contacts, may i ask what is your relationship with the deceased?” 

katsuki felt his grip on his phone slip, finally clenching it harder, “boyfriend.” 

“do you remember the key to access her details, you’re the only individual she has added to her legacy contacts list” 

how could he forget it, he made you do it after all. 

“hello? sir? are you there?” katsuki placed the phone down as incoherent words exuded his phone, he could still remember the day he pressurised you into adding him onto your emergency contacts list, you were persistent in ignoring such fimble things, yet katsuki didn’t give up. 

receiving your belongings in a small tray, he picked up your phone, your lockscreen displayed a picture you took with him when you two first started dating, you looked so different. you looked happy. 

“passcodes still my birthday huh?” 

[salemlunaa]

𖥸∘˚YOU ARE MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU KNOW𖥸˚∘

don’t force it, just let go.

There are people who go to sleep in one bedroom apartments and wake up in mansions. There are people who go to sleep with a body or face they hate and wake up with new ones. There are people who go to sleep hating their school life, family and friends and wake up with all of that changed. There are people who go to sleep living a life they dread and wake up with their dreams. Why not you.

You are so much more powerful than you know. You are the operant power of this reality and all the other realities. As I once said, these realities are your children, they are of the same relation to you and the same proximity. It is you running through their veins. You aren’t doing this extravagant thing by creating and shifting timelines to a new reality, you are taking your awareness and placing it in a reality that already exists.

You can leave anytime you want. In fact, top panicking and realise you’ve already left. A lot of you promised to yourselves that you would get your dream life over the break, over the weekend, over night and you panic when you don’t see anything. How many times will you do this? Stop the panic, the outerman isn’t you and sees nothing but limitations. There’s nothing to panic over because it is done and there’s nothing left to do. You wouldn’t be panicked about a cruise trip if you were there.

The words “OMG school starts on monday and i STILL haven’t been on my cruise trip, im so upset i feel like a loser” wouldn’t be uttered if you’re already on the cruise, sipping one of those cute drinks with the tiny hats. So stop panicking about wasted time when you’re already there and there’s nothing to do. Don’t get worked up over nothing, the 3d isn’t real.

All you need to do to induce pure consciousness is focus on the darkness in your eyes, set an intention to induce the state of “I AM” and make up scenarios, count, sing in your head. do whatever. Forget yourself, stop trying to relax, stop forcing it, stop looking for symptoms stop trying to immerse yourself in the feeling and let it happen naturally. You don’t force yourself into the state of awake and asleep so why is it any different with pure consciousness.

∘˚ 𓆸∘˚

Think of yourself being in a pool, there’s two of you. One version of yourself is being let down gently into the water and the other version of yourself is letting you down. Think of a baptism type of position. When you are fully immersed in the water you are pure consciousness, and you will come out of the water as your desired self. But what you must do is let it happen naturally. You can’t push yourself underwater. You can’t drown yourself or the water won’t accept you.

Let yourself down gently. Stop trying to force yourself into pure consciousness, stop forcing the immersion or it won’t accept you. Like how if you force yourself into the state sleep you’ll just sit in bed eyes shut waiting to it to happen. It isn’t until you let go and finally give up trying that you eventually fall into the state of sleep. That’s it. Give up, give up trying and let go. Assume you’re in the water already and before you know it you’re fully immersed in that body of water.

When we say falling into the state of pure consciousness is as easy as breathing, we’re not just trying to motivate you are trick your minds into thinking it’s easy as a form of help. It’s the truth. It’s a state, that’s all it is, just as is sleep and being awake right now, think of how effortless it is to fall into between sleep and wake. That’s all pure consciousness is. Failure to do this does not exist.

You can leave anytime you want and within an instant. Assume you have mastered this simple yet beautiful art and you will have, assume you’re there already and you will be. It takes a second to flip your thoughts and begin. You don’t need a routine or a days worth of affirming or any challenge. If you believe that is a must, you don’t understand what this is.

Go, simply because you can.

YOU CAN do this, why not now? Don’t let your fear of failing and “letting yourself down” allow you to procrastinate, failure doesn’t exist.

YOU ARE YOUR ONLY BLOCKAGE, CHANGE THAT AND LET YOURSELF GO

[wriokitty]

Xavier is not answering your texts. You’re not a very happy camper as you stare at the delivered status of your spam wall of messages:

i’m bored

let’s watch a movie. u can come over and we’ll cuddle :D

i’ll order takeouttttttt. i will generously use my card and not urs <3

ordered >:) got ur fav so don’t say i don’t do nice things for you

xav i’m bored :(

babyyyyyyyy are u there????

ok cool lol.

Lucky for you (and unlucky for him), you happen to live in the same apartment building. One elevator trip to his floor, a short march to his apartment, and a key that he’s conveniently given you a copy of is all you need to get to the bottom of this.

And you do. You get to the bottom of it pretty fast, and honestly, you don’t know why you’re surprised. You really should not be—not given his track record.

Of course, he’s asleep.

“Xav,” you groan, plopping yourself unceremoniously over his body on the couch, “wake up it’s not even seven pm, you loser. You cannot be sleeping right now.”

Xavier is most definitely awake—at least, he is now, and he’s awake enough to be very aware of your presence. You know that because his arm wraps itself lazily around you. But being the bastard that he is sometimes, he makes no move to acknowledge you outside of it. He lays there, quietly breathing away slowly, as though he’s still asleep under you while sprawled on his couch.

“Xavier!” You hiss, “wake up, I’m serious. Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!”

You punctuate every hey with an obnoxious poke to his cheek, digging the appendage into the soft, warm skin while he stubbornly remains limp underneath you, still seemingly peaceful in his slumber. The only indication that he’s starting to lose this battle is the barely-there, amused ghost of a smile that twitches to the corner of his lips as you progressively get more frustrated.

“Fine,” you huff, moving to rise from his body, “I’ll just go watch my movie alone and eat your share of dinner, too, while I’m at it—oof!”

You’re pulled back down to meet a sturdy chest before you can even make it remotely far.

“You’re very loud,” he mumbles, yawning as he wraps his arms securely around you, tighter this time. “It’s disturbing to my nap.”

“You’re disturbing to my peace,” you shoot back, “I don’t know if I’m dating a man or a log.”

“Neither,” he grumbles, cracking open an eye and giving you a rather disproving look, “you’re dating me. Don’t think about men or logs.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s fond. Affectionate. A smile finally erupts across your own lips as you cup his cheek to soothe his bitterness (it works instantly, of course), and watch as he happily leans into your hand. His eyes droop shut once more as he sighs in content, as if he could sleep instantly at the command of your warm, familiar touch.

“Can we nap before we watch a movie?” He mumbles.

“Your naps are as long as the average person’s nightly rest,” you snort, “this movie is not happening.”

“It is,” he insists, “let’s just nap first.”

“But the food will be here in a bit—”

“You’re warm,” he whispers. He tugs you down, his face burying into your neck as your body molds perfectly against him. “Stay.”

And, well…you do. You melt against him, and you stay—because how could you not? You can’t say no, not when it’s him.

a) do not talk to me. I can’t believe I’ve converted to Xavier fucker. I can’t believe I sat down and typed words about him. Don’t look at me.

b) I just think it’s so infinitely unserious that he spends 15 of 24 hours in a day asleep according to his schedule 😭

[justyourcasualidiot]

Y’all know those fics where nightwing joins the justice league without anyone knowing about his connection to batman and stuff?

Well I need one where he joins the league and him and batman are able to act professional enough that no one even consider them knowing each other more than just as colleagues. They don’t seem particularly close, they work well together, which is to be expected considering how similar they are.

Literally everything is fine, no one has any doubts, it doesn’t cross anyone’s mind.

Then they walk in on them arguing.

At first it sounds like a classic argument that always happens when working on a team with someone. You’re bound to disagree on something at some point.

But then it starts to sound like the kind of argument that’s clearly a repeated thing. Whatever nightwing and batman are fighting about, they’ve faught about it before.

It starts sounding weirdly personnal. Too personnal for two coworkers who just started working together maybe a few months before.

It’s enough for the other members to start wondering if maybe the two might have known each other for longer than expected and have simply never mentionned it.

Then they hear it.

"Stop acting like you’re my father. I stopped being your responsibility a long time ago"

[spacewhaleentropy]

Besides the point but spontaneous combustions are so strange! Like wdym a thing is just sitting there and then it bursts into fucking flames?

Some accounts say humans can do that too (which would be existentially horrifying).

There was this one woman called Mary Reeser who alledgedly caught on fire while just sitting down without any source of heat nearby. I remember seeing a documentary on that when I was a kid and I loved anything morbid, so you know I kept the image stored in my brain for ages.

At this point I was too invested so I did some research:

Human spontaneous combustion actually being a thing is debatable/unlikely and largely considered pseudoscientific. The cause of Reeser's death was probably a dropped cigarette. Hm. But! Chemical spontaneous combustion (not of humans) is a thing! Quote from James G. Speight: "Fires started by spontaneous combustion are caused by the following mechanisms: (1) spontaneous heating, (2) pyrophoricity, and (3) hypergolic reactions."

So technically not entirely spontaneous, but still cool.

Spontaneous heating is basically when a substance starts heating itself up to its ignition point without external heat added. This can apparently happen due to oxydation in highly flammable substances like oil when the generated heat can't escape or as a result of microorganismic activity in organic material (I couldn't find more about the microorganisms, so view critically, but they do produce heat as all organisms do).

Some substances spontaneously combust more easily than others:

Pyrophoricity is when substances ignite instantly upon exposure to air (or water: containing oxygen). Most pyrophoric materials are metals or alkali metals, like aluminum powder, zinc dust or sodium, potassium and cesium. Maybe you've done an experiment with one of the "safer" alkali earth elements in chem class. -> Calcium!

Hypergolic reactions are when materials ignite or explode upon contact with any oxidizing agent (nitric acid, concentrated hydrogen peroxide, ozone, oxygen [etc]; for non-chemists: air or water also work [oxygen]). NASA uses this for rocket technology.

Note that I am not a professional and anything I said here was just researched!

[dismalflo]

bloody bird's nest

poly!marauders x reader where Sirius is in one of his moods ✩ 679 words

cw: just sweet silly fluff

an: originally started this as just sirius x reader but then it turned into poly!marauders! so surprise first poly!marauders fic!!!

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It's a bloody outrage, is what it is.”

That's the first thing you hear as you walk into the boys’ flat. They're sitting at the dining table drinking cups of tea, while Sirius is complaining about something. Neither Remus or James look very concerned about their boyfriends musings. You, however, can’t help but feel a twinge of concern at the sharpness of his tone.

You approach him quietly, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on the crown of his head. He doesn’t preen like usual, not even a little. His body is stiff, and your heart clenches in worry.

“Oh, don’t mind him, dovey. He’s just in one of his moods,” Remus says casually, his arm extending to pull you gently into a hug. He presses a quick kiss to your lips before guiding you to sit next to him. You look over to James for confirmation that there really is nothing to worry about, and he's just beaming at you.

“I resent that, moony, this is perfectly justified and I just can’t–” then his eyes meet yours, “doll, when did you get here?” 

His face softens and he leans over to give you a kiss on the top of your head this time in apology and then goes back to his furious ranting. 

You’re trying your best to keep up with whatever Sirius is saying when a cup of tea is placed in front of you, when you look up it's James that’s made it, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek ready to round the table back to his seat. Before he can, you tilt your chin up, wordlessly asking for more. He smiles, his lips soft against yours, and then reluctantly pulls back. You take a sip of the tea— made just how you like it—and a silly giddiness is bubbling up inside. 

“Thank you, Jamie,” you whisper, smiling softly, making sure not to disturb Sirius.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous,” he replies with a wink, dropping back into his seat.

Remus, ever the peacemaker, reaches across the table to take Sirius’s hand in both of his, trying to calm his boyfriend. 

“Pads, it's not that big of a deal that it wasn't in stock, if you order it you can always use James’ until it arrives” Remus consoles.

Sirius seems less tense now, it's mainly from Remus’ touch and not from what he says though you think.

“No offense to you Jamie,” Sirius begins with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “you know I love you and I think your hair is very pretty, but the last time I used your products, my hair looked like a bloody bird’s nest.” James couldn't look less offended, all pleased with himself at being called pretty by the Sirius Black.

“Wait, you’re talking about your fancy curl stuff?” you ask, already moving to grab your bag from where you'd set it down, a light chuckle escaping your lips at how worked up he’s gotten.

Sirius’s response is immediate and petulant. “Yes, obviously. I’m talking about that.”

You hear a light-hearted groan from James and Remus, but you just laugh.

“I stopped and bought some on the way here,” you say nonchalantly, “I noticed you were running low last time I stayed over.”

You expect a simple reaction, but when you turn to face them, all three of your boyfriends are looking at you as if you’ve just performed some sort of magic. Their gazes are filled with awe and adoration.

Sirius is the first to break the stunned silence. He stands abruptly, crossing the room in two long strides to gather you into a tight hug. His lips are warm against your forehead as he presses kiss after kiss to your skin.

“Thank you, Dolly,” he says while showering your head in kisses. 

“This is why you're my favourite” he whispers loud enough for the other boys to hear. From across the table, Remus and James groan in protest, and you can’t help the delighted laugh that bursts from you.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

let me know what you think of this! I love any feedback! <3

[hy6erion]

Hellooo, I love your fics😭💘could you write something like Viktor is IN LOVE with reader, every time she enters the room he can't take his eyes off her and she doesn't realize the impact she has on him until one day he can't stand all the love he has and simply confesses it to her expecting to be rejected (obviously Reader feels the same way about him) a song that comes to my mind is "every breath you take" 🥺

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐲- 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞.

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲 (╥╯^╰╥) 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝-

Viktor watches her. He has no choice.

It is not deliberate—not at first. The first time he notices, truly notices her, it is nothing extraordinary. Just a moment. A simple, passing thing.

She is laughing at something Jayce has said, shaking her head, her eyes crinkling at the corners. The sound of it is light—effortless, like it was meant to exist in the world, and he thinks, Ah. That is lovely.

And then, he looks away.

But that is how it starts.

It happens again, and again, and again. A small thing at first—a glance, a thought, a passing indulgence. But it does not leave.

Instead, it lingers. Settles. Buries itself deep in his chest, in the marrow of his bones, making a home out of him.

Before he knows it, she is in his thoughts more often than not.

She is in the moments between experiments, when his mind drifts, and he has to physically shake himself from imagining the way the light catches in her hair. She is in the spaces between breaths, in the hush of the late hours, when his mind slows just enough for the longing to creep in.

She is in the way his hands still when she leans over his shoulder, the warmth of her body so close, her scent curling around him like something dangerous, something fatal.

He is careful—so careful—to never let it show.

He tucks it away, locks it behind closed doors, never daring to let it slip into his expression. She cannot know. She must not know.

Because it would ruin everything.

Because how could she?

She is kind. Brilliant. Good. And he—he is—

A man who wants too much. A man who should not want at all.

But want, he does.

She does not notice.

Not at all.

It is not that she does not care. She does. She enjoys Viktor’s company, always has. He is sharp, quick-witted, endlessly fascinating. He is clever, charming in his own way, and she has always admired the way his mind works.

But never—never—has she thought to look deeper.

Why would she?

To her, Viktor is Viktor.

A friend. A colleague. Someone to challenge her, to tease her, to rely on.

Someone steady.

It does not occur to her to question the way he watches her. The way his breath stills when she stands too close. The way his voice softens, ever so slightly, when he says her name.

It does not occur to her to wonder why, sometimes, when she speaks, Viktor looks as though he is bracing himself against the tide.

Because why would she?

Viktor has never given her any reason to think otherwise.

He does not touch her unless he must. He does not let his gaze linger for too long. He is always the first to turn away, to fold his hands behind his back, to swallow down the words that threaten to break free.

If there is ever something there—something deep, something aching—she does not see it.

And it is killing him.

It comes to a breaking point on an otherwise ordinary evening.

She is with him in the lab, working late. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But tonight, something is wrong.

Viktor is quiet.

Not in the usual way. Not in the way of someone focused, of someone lost in their own mind. No—this is different.

This is silence weighted with something else.

He is still. His hands are clasped in front of him, fingers twisting together, his jaw tight. His throat bobs with the effort of something unsaid.

She frowns, setting her notes aside. “Viktor?”

He flinches. Flinches.

Her frown deepens. “Are you alright?”

He exhales, a sharp, unsteady sound. A humorless chuckle escapes him, brittle and thin. “No,” he admits.

Her heart stirs with concern. “What is it?”

And then, something breaks.

“I cannot do this anymore.”

His voice is low, rough, edged with something raw.

She stills.

“…Do what?” she asks, careful.

Viktor’s hands tighten around each other. He looks at her then, and for the first time, really lets her see him.

He looks wrecked.

There is something desperate in his expression, something frayed at the edges, something coming apart.

Something aching.

“I—” His throat works around the words. He swallows, hard, like it physically hurts to say it.

“I cannot pretend that I do not love you.”

The air leaves her lungs.

The words crash into her, sharp and sudden, knocking the breath from her body.

She blinks, mouth parting, brain struggling to catch up.

“What?”

Viktor huffs a weak, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head. “I know. I know.” His voice is trembling. “It is—unfair. I should not have said anything. But I cannot—” He stops himself, running a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “I cannot keep this in. Not anymore.”

He sounds wrecked.

He sounds like he expects her to run.

Like he expects her to be horrified. To step away, to shake her head, to leave.

She doesn’t. She can’t.

Because suddenly, everything makes sense.

The way he looked at her. The way he carried himself around her. The way he always turned away too quickly, always put distance between them, always seemed to be holding something back.

It was this.

It was always this.

Viktor lets out a slow, shaking breath. “I am not—expecting anything. I know how foolish this is. How selfish.” His voice is quieter now, barely above a whisper. “But I love you. I have loved you for so long, and it is—” He laughs, breathless. “It is unbearable.”

She is staring.

He swallows, looking away. “You do not have to say anything. I only needed—”

“I love you too.”

It is a whisper, barely a breath, but it stops him cold.

Viktor goes still.

Completely. Utterly. Still.

“…What?”

She exhales, stepping closer. “I love you too.”

He stares at her like she has just undone him.

Like she has spoken something impossible into existence.

“…No,” he breathes, almost broken. “You—you do not mean that.”

She reaches for him then. Takes his face in her hands, tilts his head toward her, forces him to see.

“I do.”

Viktor makes a sound—something sharp, something lost.

And then he breaks.

He grabs at her, arms curling around her like he is afraid she might disappear, like she is something real in a world that has never been kind to him.

And when she kisses him, he shatters.

Because finally, finally—

She is his.

And he is hers.

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights One Shot

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: soft, soft, soft

Series Masterlist

--

It doesn’t always line up like this, but for once, it has. 

June is at the neighbors house for the night (which, when you think about the concept alone for too long, you get emotional), Hank has been scooped up by his uncle for a little “man to man time”, and Dolly is (blessedly) down for the afternoon. 

The domestic stars aligning, you crawled into bed to soothe your ankles, which were getting bigger every day.  

“What are you doin’ in here, sweet girl?”

Joel leans against the doorway of the bedroom, just back from patrol. His curls are wayward and his scruff is a bit long and the hair on his chest peeks out above the collar of his flannel, just above where his arms are crossed. He looks tired, but soft. Relaxed, now that he’s home.

You gesture at your ankles. “Resting these enormous things.”

He chuckles, his boots softly thumping against the wooden floor as he makes his way to your bedside. Sitting down, the mattress dips under his weight, and you roll to your side, making room. 

“You feelin’ okay?” he asks, soothing a large hand over your bump. His fingers splay across the mound, and you place your own hand over his. 

“Yea,” you sigh. “Just tired.”

His hand skates down your leg to your ankle, and he wraps his hold around the swollen flesh, gently kneading. He stays quiet, and for a peaceful moment, there is just sunlight pouring in through your curtains, a soft cloud of a bed underneath your aching body, and the tender, firm touch of his calloused hand. You let your eyes slide shut, and he hums in approval, shifting to your other ankle. 

The room is warm with the heat of the afternoon, and you feel lazy, content. When his hand slips from your skin and he starts to rise, you open your eyes. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, the words soft and rounded. 

“Thought I would let you sleep.”

You consider him for a moment: the bags under his eyes, the tired expression on his face. He’s been up himself since before dawn with patrol, and you know he must be just as tired as you. If not more. 

“The kids are all gone.” You slide over a little more, patting the bed. “You should come join me.”

He raises his eyebrow, a deeply skeptical look passing over his features. “You know what’s gonna happen if I get in that bed, honey.”

You smile. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

He shakes his head, amused, yet sitting down to unlace his boots all the same. “It ain’t you I’m worried about.”

Toeing his boots off, he strips his flannel off too. Tossing it onto the chair beside the bed, he stretches his shoulders and back with a groan, and you watch the muscles shift under the thin fabric of his t-shirt. They are still formidable and solid, firm and sturdy, and when he stretches out next to you with a sigh, you tuck yourself against his side. 

“See,” he comments wryly, his eyes closed, “you’re already gettin’ handsy –”

“I am not!” you laugh, scooting as close as your bump will allow. 

“You better watch it, girl,” he warns, “or this won’t be a nap at all. We’ll end up with another kid.”

“I’m already pregnant, Joel. How –”

He shakes his head with a chuckle, cutting you off. “Listen, I don’t know, but we’d find a way, I’m sure.”

He keeps his eyes closed, a smile curled at the edge of his mouth. 

Taking his hand in yours, you bring his knuckles to your mouth for a kiss. Your lips mold to each one in turn, lingering on the raw scrapes, both old and new. They are working hands: rough from the reins, blackened under his fingernails from the soil. The experience that fits within them is evident, and you fiddle with his wedding ring, a burnished brass band, scuffed and dull. 

Sometimes he sits and cleans it, and it makes you smile every time. 

“I can hear you thinking from over here,” his voice rumbles out, and you look up at his profile. Eyes still closed, another smirk on his face. 

“You ever think about we never would have met each other if it wasn’t for everything that happened?”

It’s a heavy question, but he’s used to them by now. The way you seek out these quiet moments to learn more about him, to ask the questions you’ve got held in your head. You’re introspective, and he’s thankful for every glimpse inside yourself that you grant him. His own impulses when it came to thinking about the past were still buried out of habit, but the way yours are not has helped him in a lot of ways: to deepen his bonds with people after so many years of forced distancing, to help him remember without the raw hurt from before. 

“I mean,” you explain, fiddling even more with his ring. “Not that I’m glad for what happened, but –”

“No, I get what you mean.” He turns to face you, tucking his arm under his head. “Who knows. Maybe you’ve made your way down to Texas and found me.”

The smile you give him is gentle, and playful, and his heart melts just a little in his chest. 

“I was always into cowboys…,” you muse. 

His eyebrows lift, his eyes creasing with mirth. “Oh really? You ain’t never told me that, honey.”

It’s his turn to grab your hand, and he twines your fingers together, playing with the slender digits. He fiddles with your wedding band, a matching one to his own. 

“You need me to find a hat, darlin’?” His accent slips into something deeper, something with more twang. “You want me to show you what a real Texas cowboy is like?”

“I mean, if you’re offering.” Your eyebrows bounce with implication, and he smiles. 

“See,” he scolds. “It’s turnin’ into play time again. Keep lookin’ at me like that and see what happens.”

You put on a mock face of apology. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ll be good.”

“No you won’t,” he teases, bringing your hand to his mouth. He brushes his lips against the back of it, his moustache tickling your skin. “But that’s okay.”

He winks, and you grin.

Your hands continue to play for a moment, your fingers curling together, pulling apart. The light catches the grey along the edges of his jaw, and you admire it for a moment; his own eyes warm with affection as they trace your face. 

“You miss it?” you ask quietly. “Texas?”

He regards the question for a moment. “Sometimes. The heat was a lot, and sometimes so were the people, but yea. The sunrises. The land, driving those big stretches in my truck.”

Fingers lacing together, fingers skimming palms. He continues. “Football. Barbeque.”

It used to hurt to talk about this, he thinks, and it still does, but in a different way. An ache, rather than an open wound. 

“Sarah used to like this place down the street from our house. This old man ran it – nothin’ fancy, just a smoker and some picnic tables. We used to go on nights when I didn’t have a dinner plan, and she used to get sauce everywhere.”

You lay still, listening with an ache in your chest. It’s rare he talks about Sarah, but it’s more and more these days, and every morsel is a prize. A glimmer of the man that used to be, of the life he used to live. 

“Sarah used to be like that,” he said, the two of you watching the baby’s unsteady steps in the grass, June kneeling in front of her to catch her should she fall. “She was always lookin’ out for the little ones. Always so patient. A born caretaker.”

“This was one of Sarah’s favorite movies,” he said, a wistful look to his face as the lights dimmed during movie night. “I haven’t thought about this in years.”

“And when I mean everywhere, I mean it.” He gestures to his chin, his hands, his shirt. 

He smiles softly, lost in the memory. 

“Sounds like Hank,” you say after a beat, and he chuckles, agreeing. 

Resting his arm around the curve of your hip, he strokes your back in a slow, soothing circuit. 

The heat and his steady breathing and his soothing touch and the peaceful silence all work together to lull you, your eyes sliding shut. Birds chirp outside the window, a light breeze rustling the curtains. 

You slip deeper, his hand still moving. The weight of it slides up your spine and back down; again, again.

You fade, and he scoots closer.  His lips press against your forehead, his nose settling in your hair. 

“I’m glad, you know,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your skin. 

You hum sleepily in response. 

“That you found me,” he says, softer. 

Your eyes closed, you lift your chin for a kiss and he grants it to you, his hand settling on the soft curve of your cheek. He presses his lips to yours once, twice, and when he pulls away, you’re already sliding into sleep. 

Staying awake, he takes the time to look at you. 

You, barely a memory in the QZ. 

You, your sleeping body tucked into a tight ball near his on the trail. 

You, water dripping off the tips of your lashes in the lake. 

You, in the saddle on the way to Jackson, June’s smiling face right under your own. 

You, in this bedroom, on a warm afternoon. 

You, you, you, you, you. 

Closing his eyes, he joins you.

[science-fiction-is-real]

My hairdresser pointed out that I had gray hairs at the age of 30. I told her that I was ok with that. I told her I had earned my grays. She asked me what I meant. And I didn't know how to answer but basically told her that I hadn't expected to make it this far.

It is a very bittersweet yet somehow wonderful thing to start your life over in your late 20s early 30s. You are already aging. Your joints and back don't work as well as they used to. Your vision isn't as sharp. You are way way faster than you were in high school, and you have gray hairs. And you are falling in love for the first time. Finishing your education. Getting your first professional job. Getting drunk for the first time. Experiences your peers did way earlier. But you are smarter than they were while you are doing it for the first time. And you just want to forget that the years 19-26 just didn't happen because you were enduring extreme emotional abuse, genuinely believed that no one loved you, didn't think you were going to make it, and had no idea how you were going to survive the capitalist hellscape you were born into.

But yeah. Being post suicidal is fucking weird

Being like. Post-suicidal is so strange. Like hiiiii everybody im new I spent a good chunk of my life languishing and have like 3 or 4 lived experiences. But now I'm ready to fuck and party or whatever. Can we be friends. Im so happy to be here. Can we be friends

[angelluv16]

Rumor Has It

Charles Leclerc x Jenner!reader

✩: Kaia Jenner, the youngest Kardashian-Jenner, is an up-and-coming actress. When F1 driver Charles Leclerc casually calls her his favorite actress, the internet goes crazy. What starts as rumors turns into a whirlwind of drama, chemistry, and public scrutiny.

faceclaim: Cindy Kimberly, girls from Pinterest

Want to be added to my taglist?: Click here

pairing: Charles Leclerc x Jenner!reader

request: no!!

warnings: Hate, fluff, Angst, Language,

previous part | Main Masterlist | next part

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The red carpet was always a blur. The flashing lights, the endless stream of questions, the sea of cameras. But tonight felt different. The premiere of my latest film had drawn an even bigger crowd than I anticipated—probably thanks to the Jenner name, but I was doing my best to focus on what really mattered: the film.

I paused for a moment as I walked past a row of photographers, offering my best smile, keeping the nerves under control. It wasn’t easy, but it was the game I knew how to play.

"Kaia! Over here!" I heard someone call, a reporter waving me over to the side for an impromptu interview.

I stepped forward, adjusting my dress, ready to smile and answer the usual questions. “Kaia, how does it feel to be at another premiere?” the reporter asked, holding the microphone up.

"It feels amazing. I’m so proud of this project and excited to share it with everyone tonight," I said, rehearsed but still genuine.

As the interview continued, the reporter shifted topics, and I listened carefully. “We’ve been hearing a lot of buzz online, Kaia,” they said with a knowing smile. “Did you catch the interview with Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc today?”

I raised an eyebrow, not expecting the question. "Um, no, I haven’t. What happened?"

“Well,” they continued, “during his press conference, he mentioned you. Said you were his favorite actress."

I blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

“Yep. He said you’re incredible, and he’s a big fan of your work. The fans are already going wild about it.”

I could feel my face flush as the words sank in. Charles Leclerc? The F1 driver? I had heard of him, of course, but we had never crossed paths. My mind raced as I processed it. Why would he mention me? What did it mean?

The reporter gave me a mischievous smile, sensing my reaction. “Looks like you’ve got a new fan, Kaia.”

I managed a laugh, trying to play it cool, though my heart was still racing. "Well, that’s... unexpected. But thank you."

As I walked away from the interview, my head was spinning. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. But one thing was for sure—this was just the beginning.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

liked by kyliejenner, charlesleclerc, jade_distinguinn, krisjenner and 3.6M others kaia.jenner: another premiere, another reason to wear something pretty.

view all 85,983 comments

username1: You ATEEEE this look. The moment, the queen, the icon! ♥︎ by kaia.jenner

username2: Preach

kyliejenner: Proud of you, babe! You killed it

kaia.jenner: Love you !

username3: Not me here after Charles Leclerc said he’s a fan

username4: Mother is MOTHERING.

username5: A Jenner with ACTUAL talent? We won.

username6: Not Charles lurking under this

nicksturniolo: Ate. Left no crumbs. ♥︎ by kaia.jenner

kaia.jenner: You do that every day

username7: She didn’t just walk the carpet, she OWNED it

username8: Another Jenner we don’t need

username9: Kaia Jenner to the paddock when??

carmenmmundt: A moment

username10: Did she buy this role or did mommy Kris negotiate it?

charlesleclerc: going to be streaming

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ kaia.jenner

{caption: Back In bed with coco}

-------------------------✩-------------------------

As Kaia sat back in her chair, her phone still glowing from the last message Charles had sent, a sudden wave of nerves hit her. She had been getting a lot of attention lately—especially since the premiere—but something about his words felt different. He was nervous? About watching her movie?

She had to admit, it was a little flattering. After all, Charles Leclerc wasn’t exactly known for being shy. And now here he was, nervously awaiting her movie—and possibly wanting to discuss it with her afterward?

Just then, her phone buzzed again, snapping her out of her thoughts. A new notification from Instagram.

Charles Leclerc liked your story.

Kaia blinked, frowning slightly. She didn’t think she had posted anything particularly noteworthy. In fact, her latest story was an incredibly casual photo: her curled up in bed with her cat, Coco, captioned “back In bed with Coco.” Hardly the kind of post anyone would expect a race car driver to notice, let alone interact with.

Her thumb hovered over the notification. It was just a like. Nothing else. No comment. No follow-up. Just that small action, but it felt... different. Her heart skipped a beat. Did it mean something? Or was it just another casual like from a public figure with a massive following?

Kaia couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Constantly wondering if something as simple as a like could mean more?

She quickly locked her phone and threw it onto the bed, trying to shake off the nervous excitement that had crept up on her.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

Soo Here is another Story But this time A Charles story. I've had this idea for the longest time, I always wanted to do something with The Kardashian-Jenner family and As far as I know no one has done it so here it is. Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist or my main taglist.

-------------------------✩-------------------------

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 20

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 19 | Series Masterlist | Part 21

Chapter Word Count: Over 4k

Chapter Summary: Things come to a head when Clark confronts you.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, break-in, physical assault, threat and fear of sexual assault, choking, fighting, reference to stalking and violence, inner turmoil, angst, comfort, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and this chapter is a little heavy. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The chilling smile on Clark’s face made you grip your phone tighter. How did he get in, and how long had he been waiting for you? Looking around, you were painfully aware that you were alone in the building lobby with him. Maybe you could head back outside and call Bucky.

Or the police.

“What are you doing here?” you asked again.

“I just wanted to see you.” He removed his glasses and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He stood taller, too. “Is that a problem?”

“If you want to see me, you can stop by the shop. You don't need to come here,” you pointed out. You had one stalker already and didn’t need to deal with another.

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, taking one step closer. “You didn't come home last night, and I thought you’d be back a little earlier today.”

A roll of uneasiness moved through you. What the hell was he on about? “Who said I didn't come home last night?” you asked. And why did he expect you back at your building earlier? Unless…

He laughed, a cruel and bitter sound. “Don’t bullshit me. I know you were with him. And I know you went out with your friends today.” His smile was going to haunt you for days. “I'm sure you had a nice time, but you do look a little more alert than I expected.”

The unease quickly turned to dread. Bucky said he caught someone following you, but what if that guy wasn't the only one? Ray would've spotted Clark though if he followed you, right? “And how exactly do you know I was with my friends?” you asked, slowly backing away toward the door since he was blocking the elevator.

“I’m a journalist. It’s my job to get the inside scoop,” he joked. You weren't laughing.

“My life isn’t inside scoop and it isn't any of your business,” you said, making his smile fade away. “I think you should leave.”

His eye twitched. “But we just started talking.”

You took a deep breath. It was getting tiring being surrounded by men who didn’t listen. “Look, I’ve had a long day on top of a long week. If Bucky finds out-”

“Bucky,” he spat, like the name tasted horrible on his tongue. “You think he’s the only powerful man in this city? I have a powerful friend, too.”

You froze. “Does your friend happen to be Helmut Zemo?” you asked, trying not to show how afraid you were. Did he know him? Work for him?

“Why don't we grab that coffee and I can tell you more about it?” he asked, reaching for your arm.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you said, glancing behind you. You wished Bucky or Ray was there. One of them would be there soon, right?

“Looking for your little bodyguard friend?” he smirked like he knew something you didn't. “I don't think he’ll make it with a flat tire and all.”

Your heart leapt to your throat. “How did you-”

“Couldn't risk anyone interfering. You can thank the limo driver for that,” he said, darting around and blocking the main door when you tried to walk out. “Why do you look so scared? There's nothing to be scared of. We’re just going to talk.”

You had every reason to be frightened. You didn’t know what Clark’s intentions were, but you sensed enough that they weren’t good and he didn’t want to just have a conversation. Bucky for all of his sins wouldn’t raise a hand to you, but Clark? Zemo? You could really get hurt.

“I’m sorry, but I think you should go.”

“Do you even want to be with Bucky or are you just afraid of him?” You jumped when he grabbed your arm. “Or is it because he’s rich? You think he’ll spoil you if you spread your legs for him?”

The sudden onslaught of vitriol made you shake. “Let me go. Please.”

He ignored your wince when his fingers dug in. “He doesn't deserve you. He isn't good for you, but I am. Just let me help you,” he argued, trying to grab your phone with his other hand. “I have a car waiting out back. Just come with me and we’ll figure this out.”

“There's nothing to figure out and I don’t need your ‘help’,” you said, yanking your arm back. “Just go and leave me alone!”

“Leave you alone? You sound just like Lois,” he bitterly whispered. His ex. You remembered the name. “Either come with me or I’ll-”

You dashed to the building staircase, not waiting for him to finish his threat. It felt reminiscent of a scary movie, running up the stairs and spelling out your doom instead of running out the front door. But you’d be okay. You could call for help once you got to your apartment.

“Get back here!”

Your legs ached as you ran faster, but the adrenaline and the heavy sound of his footsteps helped you push through it. It wasn't long until you got to your floor and you didn't look back as you got your keys out. “Come on,” you whimpered, your hand shaking as you unlocked your door. You sensed Clark right behind you, but you slammed and locked the door before he could get in.

“Open the door!” he shouted, the door shaking as he slammed his fist against it.

“Go away!” you begged, swiping at your phone screen. “Please…”

The sound of your door being kicked in nearly made your heart burst from your chest. You spun around to find Clark just outside, his breathing heavy as he narrowed his eyes at you. Scrambling back as he stormed inside, you opened your mouth and did something you never thought you'd do since Bucky entered your life.

“Bucky, help!” you cried, hoping that whatever cameras Bucky had in your place had sound. “Help me, please!”

You tried to rush to your room, but Clark was faster. Stronger. He pulled you back so fast and so hard by your wrist that you fell backwards to the floor. Pain shot through your body and you felt like you couldn't draw your next breath when Clark’s shadow fell over you. Tears stung your eyes, your body temporarily paralyzed as he kicked your phone away.

“Look what you made me do,” he sighed, crouching over you. “Lois ran from me, too.”

“What…”

“She was stubborn. Headstrong. We had a big fight and, well…” He shook his head. “But you were always so kind to me, and I thought you’d make it all better.”

The night you came home and found Bucky waiting for you frightened you, but it paled in comparison to the pure terror you felt when Clark crouched over you. There was something dark and twisted in his eyes as he looked you over. Any trace of the nice guy you were used to seeing in the shop was nowhere to be found.

“Bucky,” you breathed, some of the pain subsiding as you tried to roll away. “P-Please, help me.”

Clark’s face twisted into a murderous scowl when he rolled you onto your back again and clamped a hand over your mouth. “Stop saying his name. Stop fighting me. I don't want to hurt you.”

Your eyes widened, barely able to breathe through your nose. Cark already hurt you. Pain bloomed everywhere he touched. There were sure to be marks or something with how hard he pressed against your mouth.

“You just need to understand,” he whispered.

You tensed up when his hand touched your thigh. You didn't know if it was to pry your legs open or to try to carry you out, but you wouldn't let him have you. And if he was going to have you, you wouldn't give it to him easily. So you struggled as much as you could and managed to move his hand away just enough for you to bite down.

He cried out and pulled his hand back, looking as shocked as you felt. “Why are you behaving like a petulant child? I’m trying to help you. Why don't you see that?!”

“Clark, you're hurting me. Please, stop.” Tears streamed down your cheeks when he wrapped a hand around your throat. “Bucky, HELP ME!” you tried to scream, the fingers around your neck cutting off your words along with your air supply.

Images flashed in your mind when you clawed at his hand. Putting together your first arrangement at your childhood home. Grabbing your favorite treat from the cafe. Finding a good book at Marc’s shop. The day Mrs. Crandle hired you. Laughing with your girlfriends. And waking up beside Bucky that morning, a soft smile on his face. Something you didn't expect to think about.

Were you going to die?

“Shut. Up.” he snarled, loosening his grip just a little. “Just let me-”

Neither of you saw the figure behind him until he was pulled off you and shoved across the room. It happened so fast you couldn't tell if it was Bucky or not. You held your throat as you coughed and greedily gulped the air, the sound of scuffling and objects breaking urging you to move away. Sitting up, you were vaguely aware of more footsteps entering your apartment, but couldn't see who they were. You just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

You didn't want anyone else to hurt you.

Before you could get out of the room, a large, imposing body suddenly cradled you against it and gently held you when you tried to fight back. Blinking your tears away, you realized the man had blue eyes, but it wasn't Bucky or Ray. You didn't recognize him at all. Was he a new tenant?

“W-Who…”

“It’s okay,” the man assured you, quickly assessing you as the shouting and fighting continued. He brushed a finger along a rip in your cardigan. When did Clark do that? “Are you hurt?”

“I don't know,” you whimpered. Your wrist throbbed from where Clark gripped it, and so did your throat.

The fighting only lasted a few more seconds, the sound of heavy breathing filling your apartment before you heard, “Kotyonok?”

“She’s right here.” The man holding you let you go, but stayed close. “She’s safe.”

Safe. You weren't safe. You would never be safe again in this lifetime, would you?

“B... Bucky?” your voice cracked. You trembled and you thought you were crying, too, but you couldn't be sure. It wasn't until you blinked and felt a pair of almost familiar arms around you that your vision began to become more clear again. “You're here?”

“It’s me. I'm here,” he tried to soothe you, tenderly wiping your tears away. His hair was a mess and his clothes were disheveled, a far cry from the put together man you were used to seeing. “I’ve got you.”

Glancing across the room, you spotted Clark laying on the ground with Ray and Steve standing over him. You let out a broken sob when you took in the rest of the scene. Your potted plants and vases were broken, your little trinkets and frames shattered, and everything felt terrifying. It was supposed to be your home and it was once again invaded and forever tainted.

“Steve, bring him to the club. Shut it down. No one touches him until I get there.” Bucky’s metal arm curled around you and lifted you before you could protest that you were too heavy, the heat radiating from him soothing you. “Ray, deal with any neighbors who saw or heard anything. No cops.”

“You sure you don't need me to drive you?” Ray asked, concern etched all over his face when he looked at you. He looked both hurt and furious.

“I’m sure. Just get to the club after you deal with the neighbors.”

Something covered your body. Was it a blanket? A jacket? “What do you need from me?” the stranger asked.

“Get the car. Take us home,” Bucky ordered, carrying you away.

You didn't lift your head as Bucky carried you to the elevator. Did your neighbors hear the commotion? “He was waiting for me. H… He kicked my door in.” You sniffled, your body shaking uncontrollably. “He grabbed me and…”

“He won't touch you again. Ever,” he whispered. He was holding his anger at bay. You could feel it.

“I told him to go,” you explained, seeing the clench in his jaw. “I didn't… I’m sorry…”

Bucky gently shushed you. “You don't need to apologize. This isn't your fault. And I’m taking you home and no one is going to lay a finger on you ever again.”

You nodded, but some voice in the back of your head said you caused this somehow. It may have been the shock you felt since you rationally knew you hadn't done anything. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Bucky paused to look at you. “You don't need to thank me.”

“But you saved me,” you said. Him and the man you didn't recognize. “If you hadn't…” Your stomach rolled as you trailed off, not wanting to imagine the worst.

He held you closer. “If you call for me, I’ll be there.”

How did he get there so quickly? And Ray? “How did you know something was… I mean…” You sniffled again. “Did you hear me?”

Bucky tensed up. “Steve and I weren't too far from your place, and I got an alert as soon as your door opened. I knew something was wrong because Ray wasn’t here yet and you were still supposed to be in the limo,” he said, stepping out of the elevator and heading right to the car. “I dispatched Curtis immediately and we were close behind. Ray ran to get here.”

Your brows pinched. “Curtis?” you asked. Was that the man you didn't recognize?

“He works for me. I’ve had him keep an eye on you. You weren't supposed to meet him…” He swallowed and looked down at you. “Like this.”

Another man watching you. When exactly were you supposed to meet him? “So you heard me call for you?” you asked.

He swallowed again and nodded. “Yes.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d call out to him for help. You didn't consider that the cameras would ever be anything more than an obsessive way for him to have control over you, but it may have saved you today. And you couldn't imagine what you looked like as he looked over you. Your makeup ruined, shaking like a leaf.

“Try not to move too much,” he urged when you shifted in his arms. “I’m going to have my doctor look you over to make sure nothing’s broken and… to make sure you're okay.”

“Okay.” Your face scrunched up before you began to cry again. You were hurt and so confused. Nothing made sense and you couldn't even go home. “Why did Clark-”

Bucky let out a low growl and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Never say his name again.”

You hid your face in his neck, wetting his skin with your tears. “I was so scared.”

He slowly breathed out. “I was, too,” he admitted in a whisper. “But I’ve got you now.”

Bucky had you, but your tears didn't stop flowing and it didn't change what happened.

“I’m so sorry, Kotyonok,” Bucky whispered brokenly. He wasn't a helpless man by any means, but you were certain your sobs made him feel hopeless at the moment. “I can't fix what he did, but I’ll make him pay. He’ll fucking pay. I promise.”

You slumped against Bucky, exhausted from everything that transpired. You had no doubt he'd destroy Clark for hurting you. You just wished he never put his hands on you to begin with.

The partition lowered, but you kept your face hidden in Bucky's neck. “Nick got the driver,” Curtis announced.

“Make sure he’s brought to the club,” Bucky said, rubbing your back. “I need him to tell me exactly why he let you out of the limo before I beat him within an inch of his life.”

“He did it… The driver.” You sounded like you hadn't used your voice in days. “He did something to Ray's car.”

You hadn't been able to process what Clark said earlier, but you could now and it all made sense. The driver was at the winery the entire time you were and he would've had plenty of opportunities to mess with one of Ray's tires. Knowing that Ray wouldn't get to your building like normal, he let you get out of the limo and go into your building where Clark was waiting.

Clark also said you were more alert than he expected. Maybe you weren't paranoid by thinking something happened to the drinks. If you drank as much as your friends, you may have been more out of it and wouldn't have been able to put up any sort of fight against Clark.

Bucky tilted your head up and wiped a stray tear away. “He’ll pay, too,” he promised, not even questioning if what you said was true. He took you at your word. “There’s something else, isn't there?” he asked, grabbing a water from beside him and bringing it to your lips.

“He didn't confirm it, but…” You took a drink, the cool liquid making your throat feel a little better. “I think Zemo had something to do with this.”

Bucky’s mouth was set in a grim line and fury burned behind his eyes, but he softened his gaze for you. “Zemo knows you're my future wife. If he knowingly allowed someone to put their hands on you…” His metal fingers curled, but he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead. “Did Jensen get that file like I asked?”

“He did,” Curtis confirmed, looking in the rearview mirror.

“Make sure he’s there, too,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “Let's get you inside.”

A few minutes later, you found yourself lying in a guest bedroom with a blanket draped over you. Bucky didn't leave your side as he made a couple of calls, but you didn't pay attention to who he was talking to as you stared at the ceiling. You weren't sure if shock was wearing off or sinking in.

“Kotyonok? Dr. Cho’s almost here,” Bucky said, worried when you didn't look at him. “I can run you a bath after she looks you over and give you something for any pain you’re feeling. Or you can just rest.”

You made some sort of humming noise. Today was a day in your life that should've been fun, a day to remember a nice outing with your friends. The memories were tainted now, just like your home. It hurt so much. And you couldn't even message your friends because how would you start to explain what happened?

“What can I do?” he asked. He sounded desperate. This was something out of his control.

“I have to work tomorrow,” you said, testing your wrist and ignoring his question. Work was normal. You needed normalcy. “I have to…”

“What? No, you’re not working tomorrow. Mrs. Crandle will understand,” he said, taking your hand and pressing his lips to your wrist. You went rigid for a moment before you relaxed. He wouldn't hurt you. “You need to rest and stay here.”

You sniffled. What were you going to say if you called in? That a customer attacked you? “My stuff…” you said. There were things at your apartment you wanted, needed.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make sure it's brought here. It isn't safe for you to go back there.”

“How long do I have to stay here?” you asked. Would you be a prisoner now as a means to keep you safe? He had every excuse in the world now to do so since his home was safer than yours ever was.

“We need to discuss some fail-safes, like getting you a panic button.”

“Kind of surprised you didn't make me carry one from the start,” you commented.

“You've been a bit skittish because of how I went about everything. If I gave you a panic button, it may have scared you into never leaving your place and I couldn't do that to you.”

He had a point, but you wouldn't say so. “But you could install cameras and have men like Ray and Curtis watch me?”

“Because I know I put you in danger, which is a reason why I did those things and why I wanted you here for good. I also wanted you here for selfish reasons, but your safety is the top priority,” he smiled sadly.

You almost laughed. He preached over and over about your safety and it turned out he was right in some way. “Looks like you got your wish,” you said, trying not to tear up again. “You’re moving me in before the month’s out.”

He looked stricken. “It wasn't supposed to be like this,” he whispered.

You studied him with a careful eye. Part of you thought in the beginning that he was twisted enough to arrange a setup so he could step in and play the hero, but he would never do something like that to you. He’d never let anyone else touch you if he could help it. And he couldn't fake the pain in his eyes. It hurt him that you were hurt.

“I really am thankful that you showed up tonight,” you said.

“I go where you go,” he swore, curling up beside you. “Always.”

He’d follow you into hell if you asked him to do so. “Will you please do me a favor?” you asked.

“Anything,” he replied.

“Cl… He mentioned his ex-girlfriend. Lois,” you said. “Can you make sure she’s okay?”

You weren't certain if Clark attacked you on Zemo’s orders or if it had nothing to do with Zemo at all, but you were afraid for Lois. As obsessive as Bucky was, it was a saving grace tonight that you had someone looking out for you. Not an excuse, but a silver lining.

“You're hurt and you're thinking of someone else?” he asked in awe.

You bristled for no good reason at all. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m fine.” You inhaled and exhaled, trying to compartmentalize again. If you could just go to sleep and pretend everything was normal, that you were just a florist with an average life… “I’m fine.”

Bucky shook his head. “You're not fine.”

“Of course I’m not fine! Nothing is fine!” you snapped. He didn't flinch. Didn't move. “I was followed! I was attacked! I…”

You were living in a nightmare.

Your chest heaved before Bucky put your face in his chest. The dam built up inside you, all the turmoil and stress you tried desperately to keep from surfacing, finally broke and overflowed. Your fingers curled in his shirt and it all came out in heart wrenching sobs, as if a piece of you died. You cried until your head hurt and your throat felt raw. Until you didn't think you had any tears left to cry.

He held you through it all, being the calm in your emotional storm, your source of comfort instead of your tormentor. “It isn't fair,” you cried. It wasn't fair what you were going through, but life was never fair.

“It isn't,” he agreed, not letting you go when you stopped crying. “But I’ll make them pay and we’ll get through this together.”

“Together?”

“Together,” he whispered.

You had to believe he was telling the truth, that things would look up and you’d heal from the pain. You'd either hold your head high or Bucky would hold your head up for you. Like everything else in your life recently, you had no other choice but to grin and bear it. And no matter what, Bucky would be by your side through it all.

Because everything led back to him, the threads of fate weaved together by his very hands.

And breathe, lovelies. This was a heavy chapter for me to write, and I just want to give Kotyonok all the love and comfort and wine and money and everything. What is Bucky going to do to Clark? Do we think Zemo will be pleased when he finds out what Clark did? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[corkinavoid]

From the passenger seat of the car, Bruce watches Vladimir Masters press the 'end call' button without so much as a change to his expression. He contemplates letting the matter rest - this is none of Brucie Wayne business, really - but he can't. Public persona be damned.

"Do you get a lot of prank calls like this?" He still threads carefully, though. Needless to say, in Gotham, one can never be sure if it's a prank or not, so that is going to be his next question.

However, Vladimir just waves him off.

"No, this is the second or third time," he answers, and then snorts a short, slightly condescending laugh, "Besides, I'm afraid this was not a prank."

...That was supposed to be Bruce's line. He takes in a breath.

"So, your son-"

"Will be perfectly fine, if late for dinner," finishes the man for him, a bit irritated. But then, he blinks, and his face twists in sudden understanding as he briefly glances at Bruce, "Are you worried?"

"I-" He starts but cuts himself off, making his best 'I am naive but I care a lot' expression, "I imagine I'd have quite a fright if it was one of my boys." That's polite enough, isn't it?

Masters hums thoughtfully, not taking his eyes off the road, and then reaches towards his phone again, turning it on.

"Call Daniel," he commands, and a few dial tones later, someone picks up.

"Not a good time, Vlad," the voice sounds annoyed, but definitely belonging to a teenager. It's a bit staticky, though, must be something wrong with reception.

"Our dinner host is concerned for your well-being, little badger, be nice," the man chastises with a quirk of his lips, and the kid - his son, presumably, groans. "You're on speaker."

There's a dull thump on the other end of the line, then a distant whimper and some clattering.

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne, I'll be on time," Daniel reassures with a slightly fake cheer, "I've heard good things about your- Yeah, okay, you can try, but it won't work," he suddenly deadpans, his words followed by a few gunshot sounds and then a scream. Not Daniel's scream, however, it sounds further away and lower. "See?" The kid asks, unperturbed, "Amateurs, honestly, these are not even silver. Where was I? Oh, right, your son spoke highly of your butler's cooking skills, I wouldn't miss that."

The unfazed, flippant maner of his speech, together with the background noises, reminds Bruce too much of his own kids. No wonder why they became friends with Daniel.

"That's good to hear," he offers, smiling and making an effort to sound relieved and not alarmed, "I'll be seeing you soon, then. Take care."

"Sure will, thanks!" Daniel responds, and Bruce can pretty much hear him grinning, "I gotta take care of something else first, though, sorry. Vlad, do you mind hanging up? My hands are full."

Masters rolls his eyes as he stops at the red light. "Use more of them," he advises offhandedly, and then narrows his eyes all of a sudden, "You haven't ruined your shirt yet, have you?"

"...Uh," comes a hesitant, sheepish reply, and then there's shuffling, and the call is ended from Daniel's side.

The light turns green. Vladimir sighs.

"Seems like I made a good call when I brought a spare outfit."

Bruce considers asking how often things like this happen if the man even thought to do such a thing. Yet, instead of that, he simply smiles, "If you hadn't, I'm sure one of my sons wouldn't have minded sharing. They do that quite often."

Vladimir Masters curtly laughs at that.

Bruce feels like this friendship is going to be a lot more exciting than expected.

"We have your son."

"My condolences. Please try to die quickly, his dinner's almost ready."

[oaksgrove]

Fixer-Upper

pairing: John Price x Reader

synopsys: What starts as a simple date quickly becomes something else entirely—because apparently, Price can't flirt properly until he's made sure your place isn't a "death trap." But once the distractions are handled? Oh, he's got other things to fix. And you're at the top of that list.

warnings: Slow-burn to full ignition, Domestic flirting disguised as home improvement, Price being absurdly attractive while doing manual labor, Subtle dominance, Countertop moments, John being a man who takes care of things (and you).

word count: 1910

a/n: Oh god, I have never written anything like this, but it just flowed. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was thinking about Price fixing a door hinge, and the next, he was fixing something else entirely. Sorry or… you’re welcome?

thank you @leteddiebehappypls for the inspiration!

It started with a swipe.

A lazy Sunday afternoon, scrolling mindlessly through Hinge, when his profile stopped you in your tracks.

John, 38.

His pictures were simple—one of him in the soft golden light of a pub, a pint in hand, his beard neat but a little scruffy at the edges. Another of him in a heavy coat, standing near a lake, looking out at something unseen. His prompts were straightforward, no nonsense but with a dry wit that made you smile.

"You should not go out with me if…" "You prefer a man who can’t change a tire."

That made you laugh.

A quick glance at his profile details—he lived nearby, worked in the military (vague), liked dogs, smoked an occasional cigar, and enjoyed old films.

You sent the first message.

And from there, it was easy.

He was charming, but not in the way that felt rehearsed. He asked about your day and actually listened. His voice notes were warm, deep, laced with a quiet amusement whenever you teased him. You liked the way he flirted—subtle, gentlemanly, never pushing too far but always making sure you knew he was interested.

Three months later, after countless late-night talks and stolen kisses in the back of his car, you invited him over for an afternoon date at your place.

You expected a relaxed day—coffee, maybe a walk, maybe some kisses on the couch if things went well.

What you didn’t expect was John Price stepping into your home and immediately conducting a full inspection of the place.

—

"That door hinge is loose."

The first words out of his mouth after he kissed you hello.

You blinked at him. "What?"

He was already scanning the room like a man on a mission, his blue eyes sharp and assessing, he crouched down to inspect a loose cabinet hinge.

He was already moving, crouching to inspect a cabinet hinge, fingers running along the wood.

"You know this is about to come off, yeah?" he said, tapping the corner.

Your lips parted in disbelief. "Are you making a list?"

Price turned, arms crossed over his broad chest, giving you that slow, knowing grin that never failed to make your stomach flip. "’Course I am, love. Can’t have you livin’ in a death trap, can I?"

And the worst part? Every time he found something else, he’d glance at you—this warm, amused glint in his eyes like fixing things in your home was the only thing keeping him from dragging you against the nearest wall.

"John."  You exhaled, exasperated, leaning against the counter. "I invited you over for coffee, not a home renovation. You know you don’t have to do all that," you teased, leaning against the counter, watching him with an amused smile.

John tilted his head, stepping closer. Too close. His broad frame filled the doorway between the kitchen and living room, and suddenly your whole apartment felt smaller.

"I know," he murmured, voice dropping just slightly. "But I’m already here, aren’t I?"

And oh, there was something about the way he said it—like he meant something more.

Your heart skipped.

John had always been like this—quietly attentive, always looking after you in little ways. Making sure you ate, texting to see if you got home safe, standing between you and the street when you walked together.

It was dangerously easy to fall for him.

But you wouldn’t admit that. Not yet.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. "Do you even have tools?"

"We’ll get ‘em."

— 

It was supposed to be a quick trip.

But walking through the aisles of the local construction shop with John Price felt less like a casual errand and more like some kind of slow-burn seduction disguised by home repairs.

You watched from a few steps behind as he scanned the shelves, utterly focused—like a man on a mission. His sleeves were still rolled up, revealing strong forearms dusted with hair, and when he reached up to grab a toolbox from the top shelf? Yeah. You may or may not have gotten distracted.

He caught you staring. Of course he did.

And the bastard had the nerve to smirk.

"See something you like?" he asked, low and warm, that teasing rasp in his voice curling deep in your belly.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. "I’m just impressed you’re taking this so seriously."

He stepped closer—close enough for you to catch the faint scent of tobacco and cedarwood, something distinctly him. "I take a lot of things seriously," he murmured, his gaze lingering on your mouth for just a beat too long.

And oh, the way he was looking at you—like he was barely holding himself back—made your knees go weak.

—

Back at your place, John’s standing in your living room with a fresh-cut two-by-four rested on his shoulder like it weighed nothing, and he had a tool bag slung over one arm.

You were so fucked.

"Alright, love," he drawled, adjusting his grip on the lumber. "Where do we start?"

Your brain short-circuited for a full five seconds.

Because, fuck, did he have to look so good while doing this?

You cleared your throat. "I, uh—John, you really don’t have to—"

He cocked a brow, stepping in just close enough that you could smell sawdust and the faint hint of his cologne.

"I do, though." His voice was low, deliberate. Gravel wrapped in velvet. "Can’t focus on anything else knowing you’ve got loose hinges and a lock that’s barely holding up."

Oh, that was unfair.

The way he was looking at you, like he wanted to flirt so badly but couldn’t until he handled the absolute crime of a squeaky door hinge—it was absurdly attractive.

Like some kind of gentlemanly home improvement seduction.

You folded your arms, tilting your head at him. "So what you’re saying is, you’d be distracted trying to flirt with me knowing there’s a leaky pipe under my sink?"

His mouth curved into that infuriatingly smug little smirk. "Exactly."

—

Watching John work was almost too much.

The sight of him standing at your kitchen sink, carefully fixing the drip with his broad hands and furrowed brow, was almost too much. Especially when he paused—wiping his hands on a rag—to glance over his shoulder at you.

"You’re staring again, love."

You huffed a laugh, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall. "Can you blame me? Not every girl gets a full home repair service on a date."

John chuckled, that deep, warm sound vibrating in your chest. "Lucky you, then."

And God, he made it impossible not to flirt back.

"Yeah? What’s next—building me a bookshelf?"

His expression shifted. Darkened.

Something in his posture changed, the heat between you suddenly heavier.

"If that’s what you want."

Your breath caught.

And then he stood up, slow and deliberate, dusting sawdust from his palms. He turned to you with that look—the look—like he was holding himself back. Like there was a war raging inside him, one side demanding he be the gentleman and the other telling him to pin you against the nearest surface.

You barely had time to react before he was in your space, moving in like gravity pulled him there.

His hands landed on either side of you, caging you against the counter.

Heat rolled off him, thick and dizzying. The scent of sawdust, cologne, and him filled your lungs.

His fingers skimmed your waist, slow, teasing."So, tell me," he drawled, voice casual, almost teasing, "what else is wrong with this place? Besides the obvious lack of a proper man around to fix it?"

Your mouth fell open.

Oh, he was so full of shit.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him just a little closer. "Oh, so now you’re flirting?"

"Told you, love." His lips were right there, hovering over your jaw, breath hot against your skin. "Had to fix the distractions first."

Christ.

His breath shuddered.

And then—his hands were on you.

Sliding up your sides, tracing your curves, claiming you without hesitation.

"You know," you mused, "you could’ve just said you wanted an excuse to spend more time here."

John chuckled, voice dipping low, warm. He reached for a rag, dusting his hands off with that infuriating, deliberate ease. Then he met your eyes, something wicked flashing behind those deep blues.

"Darlin’," he murmured, "if I wanted an excuse, I’d just ask to stay the night."

"That somethin’ you want?" His voice was pure, slow-burning sin, dragging along your spine like velvet and gravel.

"Depends."

"On?"

"Whether you plan on fixing me, too."

His mouth brushed the shell of your ear. "Oh, sweetheart," he rasped, voice dripping with dark amusement, "you might be my favorite project yet."

Your head tipped back against the counter as his lips traced a slow, burning path down your neck, his beard scratching against your skin.

One of his hands slid lower, pressing against the small of your back, dragging you flush against him—against the unmistakable proof of just how badly he wanted you.

"John," His name slipped out between parted lips, a breathless whisper as your fingers threaded into his hair, tugging—not to pull him away, but to keep him right there.

A low groan rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your throat, and the sound alone sent another wave of heat curling through you.

His grip on your hips tightened—fingers pressing firm, possessive. A silent warning.

"Careful, love." His voice was low, thick, a heated drawl that wrapped around you like silk and smoke. "You start something, you better be ready to finish it."

Oh, fuck.

The weight of his words settled deep in your bones, in the press of his body against yours, in the way his mouth hovered just over your skin like he was barely holding himself back.

You exhaled a laugh, soft, teasing, tilting your chin up until your lips just brushed his.

"Guess we’ll be here all night, then."

His answering growl—low, dark, dangerous—sent a full-body shiver through you.

"Guess we will."

And then he was kissing you.

Hard.

Desperate.

The slow, teasing restraint snapped in an instant, replaced with something raw, something that burned hot between you. His hands roamed, strong and sure, mapping every curve like he was memorizing you by touch alone.

You gasped against his mouth, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss, swallowing every sound you made. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you into him, fitting you perfectly against him, like he needed you closer.

You barely noticed when he lifted you onto the counter—barely registered anything beyond the feel of his hands, the press of his body between your thighs, the way his mouth devoured yours.

"Fuck," he murmured against your lips, his voice wrecked, his forehead pressing to yours as he tried to catch his breath. His hands didn’t stop moving, gripping your waist, trailing up your sides, claiming every inch of you.

"You okay?" he rasped, and fuck, the way he asked—like he was barely holding himself together, like he needed you but would stop the second you wanted him to—had your heart slamming against your ribs.

You smirked, breathless, brushing your lips over his once more, teasing.

"Oh, John," you murmured, dragging your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

"You better finish what you started."

His hands tightened.

His lips curled into a smirk against yours.

And then—he did.

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: VII | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 11,124

—  warnings: sexual tension, mention of nudity, mention of murder, a lot of teasing, strong language, mention of sex, nervousness, a lot of making out, grinding, big cock!jungkook, oral (f & m receiving), praising, spitting, nipple play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, mention of death, and mention of grief

—  author’s note: so this chapter is the one everyone has been waiting for 👀 & honestly, it was really fun writing it even though I adjusted it friday. the soulmate concept is explained here (hope it’ll make sense) & it’s different from what you all have explained me about this mate thingy. thanks again for all the explanations, it definitely helped!! ❤️ hope you’ll enjoy this chapter & be ready for the next chapter because it’s a very sad one 😢

Chapter VII: just us and the moon

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

As you step out of the school where you work, you notice Jungkook waiting for you near the entrance. A smile grows on your face when you see him. Tonight’s the full moon so you’re going to spend the night with him. He refuses to let you be alone during this challenging moment, and honestly, all you want is to be near him.  

Things between you haven’t changed much as you’re taking it slow. Sometimes you kiss, but it hasn’t happened often. However, the moon’s effect lately has been making things harder to resist. Seeing him turns you on in an indescribable way, and for the past week, that feeling has only been growing bigger. You’re not sure you’ll be able to fight that tonight.

You’re going to see him naked once you shift back to your human form, and you’re very much sure your hungry eyes will be the death of you. But you don’t want to think about this just yet. Now, let’s just focus on getting closer to him.

“Hi,” you say once you’re standing in front of him.

“Hi, sunshine,” he replies.

Lately, he’s been calling you ‘sunshine’. Apparently, you’ve brightened his life since you’ve met. Now that the hardest part has been overcome, things feel much lighter with Jungkook. However, you’ve been noticing some weird things when you’re around him. For example, your hearts synchronize when you’re together. You feel at peace when you’re with him, and you’ve been feeling his presence more and more.

But all those things are only with him. So it leaves you wondering if it’s because of the baby.

Speaking of which, their heartbeat and their scent have grown stronger. It’s extremely reassuring because, sometimes, you’re very scared to lose them. The baby bump is also now visible when you’re naked. Under your clothes, you can’t see anything yet. Every morning, you spend at least ten minutes looking at your belly.

As you’re standing in front of him, your eyes move repeatedly from his eyes to his lips. You really want to kiss him, but you’re not sure if it’s a good idea. Jungkook seems to hesitate as well, but he decides for the two of you when he closes the distance between your faces. His lips meet yours for a tender and gentle kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck while you get lost in the moment.

Reluctantly, you put an end to the kiss. It’s definitely not the place to deepen this kiss into something sexual. It’s preferable not to put on a show to the passersby, especially not in front of your workplace. 

“Ready for tonight?” he asks while his fingers find yours to intertwine them.

The two of you start walking in the direction of his car. You’ve no clue where he parked it, but he’s guiding you.

“Not really,” you honestly answer. “I’m not looking forward to the transformation part.”

“I get it,” he chuckles.

Tonight and tomorrow are going to be challenging days for you. Tonight it’s the full moon, and tomorrow, Jungkook is meeting the council to discuss your case. The man has been screaming from the bottom of his lungs that he’ll protect you from everything and everybody, but will he be able to protect you during the council’s meeting?

For sure, his ex, Yuna will gladly vote to execute you as she made it quite clear that she wants to be his queen. She was hurt to find out you’re his girlfriend even though you aren’t.

“But like last time, I’ll stand by your side,” his eyes quickly glance at you.

“Thanks,” you squeeze his hand.

Quite quickly, you reach his car, and he drives you both to his imposing mansion. Throughout the drive, you both speak about your days. Jungkook had to deal with his usual stuff of werewolves while you had to deal with kids being extremely giddy today. Most probably the full moon effect. Since you’ve been introduced to the werewolf world, you’ve noticed that humans also kind of suffer from the full moon effect.

Once you’ve reached his place, you head inside and decide to watch “Lucifer” on Netflix. You started watching it a couple of days ago, and so far, it’s great. Also, you can’t watch it without Jungkook. The rules are very clear, and he obviously can’t watch it without you. It’s your show. After three episodes, the dinner is served. While eating, your eyes nervously keep looking through the window. The sun is slowly setting down, letting the moon shine through the night.

In a matter of minutes, you’ll be a wolf. The thought of going through the transformation pain doesn’t enchant you. It actually scares you, but at the same time, you’re so looking forward to feeling free again. Nothing compared to how you felt when you were a wolf.

After dinner, you get ready, putting on the exact same clothes he gave you a month ago. Then, you walk to the outbuilding. As you’re walking, you notice Jungkook’s gaze on your body, but you pretend you don’t see it. You absolutely feel desirable, something you haven’t felt in two years. Once you’re inside, you place the blankets in a corner and sit in front of Jungkook.

“It should be easier this time,” he tells you. “It’ll probably still be as painful as the first time, but since you already know the pain, it should be more manageable than last time.”

You nod. All you hope is that the pain will be more bearable because man, it was too much. But it still warms your heart to have Jungkook with you.

“Let’s hope for that,” you smile at him.  

Jungkook smirks, leaning back with that usual confidence. When he smirks, it sends shivers down your spine and you just want to do wild things with this man.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “If it gets too bad, I can always carry you around like when you didn’t want to eat dinner.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the amused huff that escapes your lips. A smile grows on your face as you remember that moment.

“Oh great, because nothing is more dignified than being tossed over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”

His smirk deepens, and gosh, you wish to take that smirk away from his face.

“I’d say more like a very adorable, and slightly aggressive sack of potatoes.”    

You lightly hit his chest. You can’t believe he said you’re slightly aggressive; you’re an absolute angel. You’re far from being aggressive.

“I’m not aggressive,” you try to defend yourself.  

“Oh really?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Should I remind you of the time you snapped at me for breathing  ‘too loudly’ when you were having a mood swing?”

Your eyes widen. How dare he bring that?

“Eeeeh,” you hit his chest once more, causing him to chuckle. “I’m a pregnant lady, have some respect!”

You’re absolutely scandalized he’s using that moment to define you as aggressive.

“And for my defense, you were breathing dramatically,” you say.

Last week, he came to your place to spend some time with you. Actually, he’s been around you almost every day. But, that day, mood swings were at their highest peak. Jungkook’s breathing was annoying you a loot, it literally was the only thing you could hear. You weren’t even able to watch ‘Lucifer’, he was breathing over the actors’ voices. On top of that, you were crying whenever there was a dead on the show, which was almost all the time.

“See?” Jungkook laughs, shaking his head. “Slightly aggressive.”

“Fine, maybe just a little,” you cross your arms, pretending to pout. “But I could say the same about you, Mr. King.”

“Maybe,” his expression softens, and he leans in to be closer to you. “But only when it comes to protecting you,” he whispers.

For a second, your heart stumbles over itself, but you quickly recover, lifting your chin.

“Well, in that case, I can exceptionally let the ‘adorable sack of potatoes’ comment slide,” you tell him. “But only this time.”

“I’m honored,” Jungkook grins and even bows. “I’ll be sure to remind you of your kindness when you’re cursing at me mid-shift.”

“Fuck you,” you groan, rubbing your temples dramatically.

“Well, if you want me to fuck you, you should have said it earlier,” he teasingly says. “But it isn’t the right moment.”

Your cheeks instantly heat up. This is really unexpected, but you kind of knew already this full moon would bring out a nasty side of you. Jisoo, Jungkook’s mother warned you that the moon can have unexpected effects. Your primal urges will be amplified so it means that if you’re attracted to someone, it’ll be harder to fight that attraction. She even said that the chances of having sex with that person would be higher.

For the past three weeks, you’ve seen quite often his mother, and surprisingly, you’ve gotten pretty close. She was very skeptical at first, but slowly, she started becoming nicer. Now, you feel completely at ease around her, and you’re grateful for the efforts she’s made. Jungkook is also happy because his mother has been coming to his place more often.

The good part is that she’s been giving you tons of advice for the pregnancy. And also tons of advice related to your wolf blood. In the end, based on what she said, you’re pretty much like any other werewolf. You just have extra human blood on top. She’s been very curious because you’re not like anyone else.

Surprisingly, you decide to tease him back.

“You can do it after,” a little smirk appears on your face.

“Don’t tempt me, yn.”

To be honest, you really want this man to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. You want to have him in between your tights with his cock buried deep inside you. The ‘let’s take it slow’ isn’t for you anymore. In fact, it feels like it’s been going way too slow.  

His dark orbs are filled with lust. The same lust you last saw three weeks ago when you pushed him away. When he looks at you like that, it just makes you weak. Jungkook gets closer to you, his face now a breath away from yours. His scent wraps around you like a drug—earthy, warm, him. The way the moonlight catches on his skin, the way his breathing is heavier than usual, the way his eyes darken with an unspoken hunger… it’s too much.

You know he feels it too. You can see it in the tension in his jaw, in the way his fingers twitch slightly like he’s restraining himself. But why should he? Why should you? Every nerve in your body is screaming to close the distance, to claim what’s already yours.

Jungkook can take you right here and right now, his transformation isn’t dictated by the moon. However, yours is. In a matter of minutes, you’re about to start feeling it. So he takes a step back, putting some distance between you.

“Let’s focus now on your transformation,” he then says.

You nod because he’s totally right. The pain should be hitting very soon, there’s no place for going wild right now.

A couple of minutes later, a deep, familiar heat spreads through your body, wrapping around every inch of you like a wildfire threatening to consume you. It’s different from the first time—less agonizing, more natural—but still overwhelming.

Your bones tremble beneath your skin, stretching and reshaping with a fluidity that should be painful but isn't. Instead, it feels like a release, as if your body is finally embracing something it was always meant to be. Honestly, it’s a bit strange that the pain isn’t like last time, but you won’t complain.

“It doesn’t hurt that much,” you admit to Jungkook.

“It’s a good thing,” he answers. “Keep embracing this.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, steady yet strong, like a drum signaling the inevitable. The air around you shifts, sharpening in clarity, scents bursting to life in ways your human senses could never fully grasp. The earth beneath your feet feels softer, the concrete floor whispering against your paws—because yes, you have paws now, and the realization doesn’t terrify you as much as it did before.

Jungkook slowly follows your shift, his body mimicking yours like last time. Seeing him doing it warms your heart. This man is just the most precious one you’ve ever got to meet. You’re not sure anybody would be doing this for you. Well, you’re actually convinced another man wouldn’t do this for you.

“You’re doing amazing, yn,” he tells you.

The werewolf king’s chest swells with pride. He’s so proud of the way you’re handling this second shift. For the past few days, he was extremely nervous thinking about how this night would be going, but man, he doesn’t feel nervous anymore. He’s just proud of you.  

A rush of energy surges through your veins, a primal force awakening within you. This time, there is no panic, no desperate fight against the shift—only acceptance. You breathe in deeply, and Jungkook’s scent fills your lungs, grounding you. The night isn’t just dark anymore—it’s alive, glowing with an unseen vibrance as your blue eyes scan the small space through a new perspective.

And then, you feel it—not just the physical transformation but the connection. The wolf inside you isn’t a separate entity; it’s you. It always has been. You aren’t just shifting into something else; you are becoming whole.

As you notice Jungkook fully becoming a wolf, you realize that you’re not human anymore. The fact that his transformation follows yours helps a lot. It allows you to realize how you’re doing.

“Looks like someone is a wolf now,” he speaks through his thoughts.

“It was quick this time around,” you admit.

“You didn’t fight it so it makes everything easier and faster.”

Quite frankly, you’re extremely proud of yourself. You weren’t expecting this night to go this way, you were actually imagining the worst. But it went so great so you can fully be proud of yourself.

“At this pace, in two months, you’ll master everything and won’t be ruled by the moon anymore,” he says.

“Eeeh I’m quite unique,” you tell him.

“You definitely are,” he admits.

This human side of you makes everything unpredictable, but Jungkook is starting to believe that this side of you actually makes everything easier. Since you’re not fully a wolf, your human blood tames it. You manage to control everything a lot better than any other wolf. It seems that being a hybrid isn’t a curse after all. Jungkook only hopes that your human blood will have the same effect on your child.  

The sense of freedom washes over you, powerful and intoxicating. You take a tentative step forward, then another one. The father of your child opens the outbuilding’s door, allowing you both to finally run into the woods. A thrill courses through you as your paws thunder against the ground, muscles coiling and releasing with effortless precision.

The wind rushes through your thick fur, its crisp touch electric against your heightened senses. Every inhale brings an explosion of scents—the damp earth beneath you, the lingering musk of other animals who passed through, and the faint trace of the night sky itself.

You push forward, faster, exhilarated by the sheer strength of your new form. Jungkook follows you and remains by your side so you don’t feel alone. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing, only instinct. You weave through the trees, leaping over fallen logs with ease, your body working in perfect sync with something deep and primal within you. This isn’t fear or chaos; this is control.

Then, you look at the wolf next to you. Your eyes meet, and god, you just feel like this man is meant to be yours. His greyish fur gleams under the moonlight, his eyes reflecting something unreadable but intense. You watch him as you both slow down for a moment, his eyes never looking away from yours.

“You’re so beautiful,” his words echo in your head.

“Not as beautiful as you,” you confess.

Then, he resumes to run. Jungkook takes off into the night, and before you can think, you’re chasing him, your paws pounding the earth in pursuit. The thrill of the hunt, the joy of the run—it’s everything. You adore being a wolf; everything just feels a lot better than in your human form.

For the entire night, you both walk and run around, never growing tired. You only feel more alive, and you don’t want to stop this feeling even though you know that once the sun starts to rise, this will all disappear.

After countless hours of running, you get back to the outbuilding to shift back to your human self. As last time, it’s a bit hard but your mind once again thinks of those sweet moments shared with your father. And in the midst of those thoughts, you hope that your child will share great moments with Jungkook. You hope that they’ll have the same sweet souvenirs. However, you don’t doubt it will happen. Jungkook is such a good man and will for sure be a wonderful dad.

When you take your human form, Jungkook does the same. Your gaze is irresistibly drawn to him. His broad, sculpted shoulders look as if they were carved from stone, each defined muscle a testament to his strength. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, the movement oddly mesmerizing, as if each breath holds an unspoken power just beneath the surface.

You know you should look away, but your eyes betray you, lingering far too long. Heat creeps up your neck as you realize just how intently you’ve been watching him. Meeting his gaze suddenly feels impossible, yet the pull of his presence is undeniably magnetic. It stirs something deep within you, something primal and impossible to ignore.

Jungkook feels your gaze on him and doesn’t say anything because he’s just devouring you the same way. Everything about you is perfect; he’s so drawn to you. He’s so drawn to his soulmate. And this fucking full moon doesn’t help. His attraction to you is impossible to resist, but he has too much respect for you. You want to take things slow so he’ll do it. His hand has been his greatest companion for the past three weeks.

Your gaze doesn’t go below his chest because you know that if you look down, you won’t be able to hold back. Your eyes linger on his tattooed arm—he looks way too hot. The man decides to grab the clothes on the floor, handing you yours.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

Jungkook offers you a little smile before you both get dressed. It’s so easy to put on these kinds of clothes, you wish you could live only wearing them. They also adapt to your body because they perfectly embrace your growing stomach.

“How are you feeling?” he asks when you walk back to his mansion.

“A bit tired, but less than last time.”

The rest of the walk is made in silence, none of you knows what to say. He accompanies you to your room. When in front of the door, you stop.

“Sleep well, yn,” Jungkook kisses your cheek.

“Stay with me,” you beg.

The man doesn’t hesitate at all when he opens the door, letting you in first. He walks inside right after you and closes the door. What comes next doesn’t surprise you at all, you had teased each other about it before turning into a wolf.

Jungkook presses his lips on yours. The kiss is sweet and tender, there’s no rush or anything else in it. This moment has been desired by the two of you since the beginning of the night. In fact, you’re actually convinced that if you rush it, it will destroy the magic behind this exact moment. His strong arms wrap tighter around you almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear.  

His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. Your heart is pounding extremely hard on your chest while the butterflies on your lower stomach are making you feel completely alive. 

Your little hands cup his face while you kiss him passionately. The two of you walk until he falls into the bed, you break the kiss as he sits. Your gazes never break while you take a seat on his lap. Your lips meet his again for a fervent kiss this time. Without realizing it, your hips delicately roll against his, causing a low and deep groan to escape his mouth.

In a matter of seconds, you start to feel his erection against your core, and it feels wonderful to turn him on this easily. It makes you feel desirable; a sensation this man has caused you since you met.

“Looks like someone woke up,” you whisper against his lips. 

Jungkook opens his eyes to stare at you, lust shining in his doe eyes. 

“How couldn’t Jungkook Junior wake up with the way you roll your hips right over him?” he teasingly answers.

You chuckle as he calls his cock ‘Jungkook Junior’.

“I didn’t know your dick had a name,” you smile.

He smiles back at you, his hand moving down on your waist to incite you to roll your hips against Jungkook Junior. Moans flood from your mouths while pleasure consumes the two of you. None of you look away, enjoying the view of the other contorting with bliss.

“If you let me, I can help you with relieving Jungkook Junior,” your hips don’t ever stop rolling.

The man would love to take his time with you but fuck, if you offer him some help, he’s never going to refuse it.

He nods, and you get off his lap to get down on your knees before him. He spreads his legs for you, your face now directly in front of that little tent forming on his sweatpants. Slowly your hands grab the elastic of his pants before pushing them down his legs. Jungkook helps you by raising his hips.

Your hungry eyes watch the beast standing proudly in between his thighs. His length is very impressive, you swear that you’ve never seen such a monstrous cock in your life. Your mouth salivates as your eyes get lost in his huge dick.

“Jungkook Junior is quite a beast,” you say.  

Now, you’re grateful your eyes didn’t look down at him in the outbuilding. You wouldn’t have been able to let him leave that place without sucking him off or letting him fuck you.

“Impressed?” his deep voice demands. 

“More than impressed,” you answer, and a little chuckle leaves his mouth.

Since you’re in a mood to torture him a bit, you decided to go first with his balls instead of his cock. You swirl your tongue around each one of his balls before sucking them in your mouth, making the man gasp and hiss.

Obviously, you take all your time to savor every single second. The growing tension between you for the past weeks led to this exact moment so let’s not throw it to waste. The moment you feel his balls against your lips, all your thoughts dissipate, only focusing on the moment you’re spending with him. 

His enjoyment can’t be hidden since his eyes roll back as you deeply suck his balls and moan around him. Jungkook slowly but surely starts to groan loudly; you’re sure the people working here can imagine what you’re doing by the way he moans. Every sound that leaves his mouth is a guide for you.  

Purposely, you don’t touch his cock, only putting all your attention on his balls. You know nothing about how this man is in bed but what you desire at this precise moment is to hear him beg for more.  

“Yn…” his voice is tentative. “I need your mouth around my cock,” he whimpers. 

At this stage, you don’t care about his words because you prefer to torture him a little bit more with your mouth on his balls. So, you suck harder on them before swirling your tongue around them. The man above you closes his eyes, groaning as you pleasure him. It makes you smirk while you watch his face contort with pleasure. 

“Fuck, yn,” he opens his eyes to steal a quick glance at your face. 

Jungkook is graced with the view of you glancing up at him, and that alone can send him to heaven.

“You look like a sin,” he says before moaning.         

“From down here, you look like an angel,” you say when you pull his balls out of your mouth.

His cock twitches at your words, loving how thoughtful you are. Your words warm his heart in an unexplainable way. As you stare at his angelic features, you finally decide to give him exactly what he desires.

You spit on his cock to make it easier to pump him before your hands touch his length. Immediately, a guttural moan escapes his soft lips. Your eyes glance up again to see him running a hand through his dark hair. 

“Keep pumping me like that, sunshine,” he mumbles while he keeps moaning. 

“You want me to suck Jungkook Junior?” you ask him. 

“Suck me, please,” he barely manages to say. 

A smile comes across your face before you shove his cock down your throat, face fully buried in his little monster. Jungkook deeply growls, his eyes rolling back to his head while he runs a hand through his hair once more.

Your face shoves further down on his crotch, eyes glimpsing up at him to see the mess that he’s becoming. Very carefully, you pull back before engulfing his cock once more. The man groans louder, legs shaking as he gets closer to his orgasm.

It’s obvious that he won’t last too much but you’re taking your time while sucking his beast. A little bit of your saliva drips down while your mouth bobs up and down his length. His shaking hands grab your hair to guide you but never once does he shoves your face deeper into his cock, he’s being extremely gentle with you although he’s completely lost in pleasure. 

“Fuck, sunshine,” he growls. “You’re doing so well,” he praises you.  

His cock twitches inside your mouth as he gets closer to the edge. The moment you feel his cock throbbing, you hollow your cheeks to provide him with even more pleasure. 

“Can I come inside?” he asks when he feels himself very close to the orgasm. 

The second you nod, his cum explodes inside your mouth while deep groans leave his lips. He delicately ruts his hips, pushing his hot seed deeper into your mouth. You take it all in as your eyes never cease to glance at him. 

When you remove your mouth from his beast, he falls back onto the bed, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. You stand up before lying next to him. You clean your mouth with your fingers, Jungkook tastes so freaking good.

“How was it?” you ask with a smile.

His eyes meet yours, even in the dark they shine so brightly. This man looks like a walking dream, and every time you lay eyes on him, you feel lucky to have met him.  

“Fucking good, sunshine,” he confesses. “But,” his face gets closer to yours. “We’re not done yet.”

His lips crash against yours to fervently kiss you. His tongue doesn’t waste a second to meet yours, and he can taste himself. A little moan escapes his mouth, but you instantly swallow it. However, you quickly break the kiss as you’re both horny as fuck and want nothing more than have sex. You rapidly undress before lying on the bed.   

Jungkook spreads your legs and nestles himself in between them. For a moment, his eyes look down at your stomach. It’s barely noticeable, but he can already see a little bump. And man, he finds you hotter than ever. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers.

He then proceeds to kiss your inner thigh and his soft lips on your skin send shivers down your spine. 

“Jungkook,” your hand flies down to grab his hair. 

His tongue swipes at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. Moans of delight escape your lips because he’s treating you in a way nobody has ever done before. His round nose rubs against your clit and it’s making wonder to your entire body.  

“You taste so good, sunshine,” he mumbles against your core. 

Your thighs squeeze his head, your fingers push harder his hair, and your back arches off the bed while he delicately licks your folds like a little cat would lick his milk. His tongue burrows into you, lapping at your wetness.

There is nothing better than having your juices running down his throat at this exact moment. This is beyond better than anything he has ever eaten. This is even better than all the sex dreams he has had for almost three months. He could do this for hours without ever growing tired.

You heavily sigh of pleasure when he tilts his head up a little higher to lap deeper into you. When he pulls at your folds with his teeth, your back arches off the bed, your legs squeezing his head harder, his name rolling off the tip of your tongue over and over again. 

As he licks and bites your folds, you scream louder and louder, your orgasm threatening to explode at any moment. For the first time in a very long time, you’re feeling that this orgasm is going to be strong as hell, but gosh, Jungkook is doing everything to make it extremely intense. 

It’s a matter of seconds before you’re completely overwhelmed by your orgasm. Jungkook never stops until you’re squirting, his face now covered in your juices. He glances up at you again, his lips shining with your arousal that he blissfully licks it with his tongue. 

“If you want to stop now, sunshine…” he starts saying but you cut him short.

“There’s no way we’re stopping now,” you tell him. “I want you inside me, Jungkook.”

His breath hitches in his throat, you’re giving him exactly what he desires. He crawls over your body, his fingers brushing along your stomach and up to your breasts. The man leans down to kiss the space between them, your back arching at the feeling of his lips on your skin. His round nose brushes against your chest while his mouth ghosts over your breasts. His warm breath stings against your sensitive skin, teasing you. 

“The wait was so worth it,” he mumbles.

“Oh yeah,” you reply.

The spinning and tension between you has reached its peak, and man, this feels so freaking good. Right now, there’s nowhere else you’d like to be. All you want is to be with Jungkook and be loved by him.

His hands hold tightly your breasts, and his thumbs flick over your nipples. Little moans leave your mouth. His lips kiss from the valley of your breasts up to your throat, his tongue licking all the way up. Your body definitely tastes like heaven, and he wonders now where you’ve been all this time.

Pulling his head back, his eyes get lost in yours before he presses his lips on yours, kissing you passionately and fervently. He’s impossibly hard, precum leaking from the head of his dick, and he wastes no time in pushing himself into you.

Surprisingly, his cock slides in you quite easily almost as if your bodies were destined for one another. You cry out as he buries himself deep into you because damn, he’s massive and stretches you out so much.  

“Fuck,” he whines. “You feel so good.” 

Jungkook pulls his hips out before slamming back into you so harshly that you feel your whole body shudder. The second he’s fully buried inside you, he stops his moves, watching down at where your bodies meet. 

Slowly, he resumes thrusting back into you. The man hovering over you ensures to fill you up to the brim at a very slow pace. Your moans get louder as he rails the shit out of you, and you’re absolutely sure that if anyone passes near the bedroom, they’ll hear you scream Jungkook’s name. 

“Faster,” you tell him.  

A smirk appears on his face before he thrusts into you at a faster pace, which has you clenching so tight around him. The room is quickly filled with the sound of his hips slapping against yours as well as both your moans.

The two of you get completely lost in your euphoria. You squeeze your walls around him, making him groan loudly, and he quickens and deepens his pace. The intensity of which he’s pounding into you makes you moan with delight.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you mewl before you bite at his lower lip, tugging at it hard. 

His eyes are locked with yours, and right now, there are only the two of you. It’s like the world around you vanished completely, something you’ve been feeling every time you’re with Jungkook. It’s something quite unique and beautiful at the same time. 

This moment is unlike anything you’ve ever known. It’s raw, intense, and deeply compelling. It isn't just how his body moves perfectly with yours. It’s something more. Something that sparkles beneath your skin; it feels electric.

The air between you is charged with a force that feels bigger than both of you—as if the universe itself has been waiting for this. Waiting for you to come together, to complete the bond. It’s overwhelming but in the best possible way. You gasp, your breath hitching, not just from the physical closeness but from the undeniable pull of your souls intertwining.

Jungkook caresses your face with a smile on his face. “You’re so wonderful,” he says before pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Having you contorting with delight under me is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

For the first time, you can feel him—not just his body, but his essence. His emotions flood into you, raw and unfiltered. Love, need, devotion, and protection; it’s all there, wrapped around you, holding you in ways that go beyond the physical.

And then, something shifts.

It’s as if you’ve crossed an invisible barrier—something within you locks into place. Your heartbeat syncs with his, the space between you collapsing until you can’t tell where you end and he begins. It’s intoxicating, this feeling of oneness, of completion, as if you’ve always been meant to find your way to this very moment.

By now, his pace is relentless. The bed under you is creaking while your breasts are bouncing at the rhythm of his pace. One of his hands snails up from your waist to grab at one of your breasts, squeezing at your soft flesh before he pinches your nipples. The feeling is overwhelming but you welcome it. 

The man above you leaves wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. On the other hand, your nails scratch his back, leaving red marks all over him.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna,” you whimper. “I’m gonna...”

Since you’re completely lost in your bliss, you don’t manage to finish your sentence, but it doesn’t matter to the man fucking you since he already knows you’re very close.

Your walls are clenching extremely hard around him, your legs are shaking, and your moans are pretty much out of control. That’s how he knows you’re close. His hips move faster, desperate to make you come undone under him. 

“Come for me, sunshine,” he whispers in the shell of your ear. “Make a mess all over my cock.”

The orgasm that is slowly growing inside you completely explodes. Your eyes close as your face contorts with pleasure, and you cry out his name over and over again. Jungkook watches with marvel the way you come under him and he enjoys the way your pussy creams his cock. 

Jungkook’s dick throbs inside you but he continues to wreck you until he’s coming inside you. He’s fully aware that he isn’t going to last much longer than you do because damn, pleasure is overwhelming him so much.  

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he growls in your ear, shivers running down your spine with his deep voice. “Can I come inside?” 

You nod as you desire nothing more. After all, you can’t get pregnant as you already are. The man lets go of any control he has over his orgasm, and he releases his hot semen inside you. His body is completely tense while he sloppily thrusts two last times to push his cum deep inside you.   

Then, he slowly collapses against your chest, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your neck as he nuzzles himself against you. Your arms wrap around him as the two of you come down from your intense orgasms. The room falls completely silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing. 

After a while, he just lay next to you, the two of you looking up at the white ceiling. You’ve finally surrendered to the massive attraction between you, and it feels great. Sex with Jungkook is quite an experience, and you definitely want this to happen again. You’re so damn addicted to this man. 

“I’ve something to tell you,” he breaks the silence.  

Your eyes move from the ceiling to the father of your child. Jungkook after an orgasm is hotter than ever.

“We are soulmates,” he difficulty swallows.

“Soulmates?” your eyebrows furrow.

“Yes,” he answers. “It’s a real thing in our world, and the bond between soulmates is quite strong.”

You never thought that would exist, but in a way, it doesn’t surprise you. What you have with Jungkook is unexplainable and unique.

“Soulmates can communicate through thoughts, they are deeply attracted to each other, they can feel each other’s emotions, and above anything else, they trust each other from the moment they meet,” he explains. “But they also develop unique abilities together. From what I noticed so far, we can sense each other’s presence effortlessly, and when we’re together, our heartbeats fall into perfect sync.”

“So this has nothing to do with our child?” you ask.

Up until now, you were pretty much convinced that your child was the reason your bond with Jungkook was special.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Our child only brought us together, but we were already soulmates before they even existed.”  

“Oh,” you say. “So how does this work?” you ask with curiosity.

“Based on what I’ve read in books and what my parents told me, a soulmate bond is forged when we are born. Apparently, this bond exists to strengthen the soulmates. They pretty much become one, and the second our bond is consumed through sex, we basically seal this whole thing. It’s like we have mated,” he explains. “Our scents have blended into one; it’s unique now.”

The moment you both orgasmed, Jungkook instantly noticed the scent change. It was subtle at first, like a whisper on the wind, but then, he felt you in every fiber of his being. He knew that soulmates having sex wasn't just for pleasure. The first time carries a deep weight. It’s when they finally mate and consolidate their bond forever. There’s absolutely no going back after that.

From now on, everybody will know you’re his and he’s yours. The world will never be the same again.

“Interesting,” you simply say.

“Soulmates are meant to meet at some point so the clinic’s mistake was simply our beginning. I’m still mad for their mistake, but I’m also grateful because, without it, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“But if we’re soulmates, sooner or later, we would have met, right?” you ask.

“Yep, but my first child wouldn’t be yours,” he answers. “And soulmates’ kids are usually stronger than any other kids,” he continues. “Knowing that really reassures me for our child’s future, and I also couldn’t imagine anyone else as the mother of my child.”

You get closer to him to wrap your arms around him. Jungkook presses a hot kiss on your lips, a smile growing on his face.

“And I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the father of my child.”

It’s your lunch break when you receive the most awaited call. Last week, you did a blood test to check if your baby has any genetic diseases. This test will also allow you to finally know the gender. It’s been extremely hard to wait for the result because you’re extremely concerned about the baby’s health and because you definitely want to know the gender.

Secretly, you were hoping to receive this call when you’d be with Jungkook. It would be easier if he was next to you. But you don’t mind honestly. If it’s good news, you know he’ll be equally happy. In the end, what truly matters is that the baby is thriving.

“The baby doesn’t have any genetic diseases,” the woman on the other side announces. “Would you like to know the gender?”     

“Yes, yes,” you inform her.  

“It’s a boy.”

The world disappears around you, and your hands move down to your stomach, cradling the small bump. It’s a boy. A healthy little boy. The words echo in your mind, wrapping around your heart and filling you with a warmth unlike anything you’ve ever known.

For as long as you can remember, you envisioned yourself as a girl’s mom—you don’t really know why. But now, everything is different. You’re going to be a boy’s mom. It’s such wonderful news. Honestly, the gender doesn’t really matter. What truly matters is that your baby is healthy, growing strong, and doing just fine. That he’s doing fine. That he’s safe. That he’s okay.

“You’re a little boy,” you whisper once the call ends. “I can’t wait to tell your dad.”

His strong heartbeat echoes in your ears, and warmth spreads in your chest. You’re incredibly happy. It’s honestly such a relief that he’s doing fine, you were so so nervous. For the past week, it was the only thing your mind could focus on. Well, that isn’t totally correct.

Yesterday, Jungkook managed to make you think of something else. The thought of the steamy session sends shivers down your spine. You even feel your walls clenching as if they’re feeling him inside you all over again.

It was, without any doubt, the best sex you ever had.

You shake your head to focus again on your little baby. A little boy is on the way, and you simply can’t wait to tell it to Jungkook, Felix, and Lexi.

At the end of the day, when you leave your workplace, you find the father of your baby waiting for you. A smile grows on your face when you see him. Apparently, today, it’s because he wants to ensure that nobody comes to hurt you.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you say once you’re in front of him.

“Hi, sunshine,” the brightest smile appears on his face, making him look absolutely adorable.

Today, Jungkook doesn’t even hesitate when he presses a peck on your lips. It doesn’t feel weird at all, it actually feels so nice. Honestly, after what happened yesterday, it’s wonderful that things aren’t awkward between you. Actually, everything seems normal and natural. It’s like this was meant to be since the beginning.

“I like it when you call me sunshine,” you admit while wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook presses a kiss on your forehead. “I’m glad you do,” he replies gently. “It fits you so well.”

You lean in to press a soft kiss on his lips. As you pull back, he tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your mouth.  

“Do you have lip balm on?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone.

“Yeah, I need to moisturize them because they’re always so dry now,” you reply, a hint of frustration in your voice.

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. “Good,” he murmurs before capturing your lips in a deeper kiss.

His mouth moves slowly against yours, savoring the balm's taste as if he intends to remove every trace of it. You pull back, eyebrows knitting together.

“Hey, you’re licking all the balm off,” you gently hit his chest.

He smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. “I need some too; my lips are dry.”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t help but smile at his antics.

“Well, next time, get your own lip balm.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” he chuckles, leaning in to steal another quick kiss.

Despite your annoyance, warmth spreads through you, appreciating the lighthearted moment you share. It simply feels great that in the middle of what your life has become, you’re able to share a sweet moment with someone you deeply care about; your soulmate.

"I received wonderful news today," you say, your eyes sparkling as you recall the phone call you had earlier. "We now know the gender of our baby."

Jungkook’s face lights up with anticipation. "Tell me," he urges, his excitement palpable.

"It's a little boy," you announce.

For a moment, Jungkook is silent, absorbing the revelation. A radiant smile spreads across his face, his eyes glistening with emotion.

"A son," he murmurs, almost to himself.

The words carry a profound weight, evoking memories of his own father and the deep bond they shared. He envisions creating a similar connection with his own son—teaching him, guiding him, sharing moments of joy and wisdom. The prospect fills him with both excitement and a sense of responsibility.

"I can't wait to meet him," he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "To teach him, to watch him grow... to be the father to him that mine was to me."

"He's going to have the best dad," you whisper, your heart swelling with love for the man in front of you and the life you've created together.

“And the best mom,” he whispers before pulling you in his embrace.

Jungkook’s foot is nervously tapping on the floor as the council’s members arrive. He welcomes them with a bright smile. His heart is beating incredibly fast, and he feels like he’s about to die on the inside. Today is the day. He’s finally going to reveal your existence to the entire werewolf community. All those high, powerful, and important people will know who you are.

For the past weeks, he’s been deeply thinking about what he has to do. Although it’s pretty obvious he won’t kill you and he’ll protect you no matter what, the council needs to be aware of the situation. They for sure won’t take it lightly and will do everything they can to put an end to all of this. But he can’t lose you. He can’t lose his baby boy.

The council is composed of three powerful alphas of each pack, making it equal in the pack’s representation. Even though this council exists, Jungkook is the one with real powers. The council might pressure him into one decision, but if he decides otherwise, it’s his voice that matters. However, that doesn’t exclude the possibility that they turn their backs on him. It hasn’t happened yet in the entire werewolf existence because the king’s authority is never questioned.

But today, things are very different. Jungkook is about to tell them that a hybrid is alive and that their life was saved by two important people.   

When Yuna enters the room, she literally kills him with her gaze. She’s definitely mad he has a new girlfriend. She is the firstborn of a late powerful alpha. She’s worked hard to take over his place on the council when he passed. Even though Jungkook doesn’t like her very much, he has to admit that she’s a damn powerful alpha.

Her face changes when she realizes Jungkook’s scent is completely different. Well, actually every member frowned the second they noticed it while arriving. Jungkook’s scent took a more feminine tone; his usual smoky and warm scent took a floral and fresh tone. It’s clear to them that Jungkook finally met his soulmate and mated with them.

Yuna now knows that his new girlfriend, you, is his soulmate.  

“Thanks for coming to our monthly meeting,” Jungkook says with a smile.

They all bow once more to him with a polite smile on their faces. They are all sitting on a round table with notebooks and pencils in front of them. Some of them also have a glass of water or a cup of coffee. Jungkook has water, the safest option right now.  

“I have rather important matters to discuss with you all,” he begins.

Everybody looks at him with an extremely serious face. Yuna, on her side, has a smirk on her face, and Jungkook knows that she might think he’ll finally discuss his ‘new girlfriend’ and the baby on the way.

“I’ve found out about the existence of a hybrid,” he straightforwardly says.

Everybody gasps at the mention of the hybrid. Some even start whispering some things like ‘how’s that possible?’ ‘who let that person exist?’ ‘who needs to be punished?’.

“It could be a tragedy for our world,” he continues. “However, two powerful alphas protected that hybrid. Both of them hide the existence of such being.”

Jungkook really tries to remain composed and calm as he unveils the truth to the council’s members. If he ever lets his emotions get in the way, he knows this will be a disaster. It can’t happen. One of them could use that against him, and it definitely won’t be a great idea.  

“One of them being my father,” he reveals.

“How’s that even possible?” an alpha from the Blood’s pack raises. “Your father would have never allowed that.”

“I know,” Jungkook admits. “But he did it.”

“He must have had his reasons,” a Lunar intervenes.

The Lunars are usually the ones that are more comprehensive out of all the packs. They also are the most inclined to adapt the rules to modern times. Based on this comment, Jungkook believes that the Lunars might be the ones more inclined to accept this situation.

“It doesn’t make sense,” a Shadow’s answers. “He helped us find one twenty years ago. He would have never protected one.”

“Well,” Jungkook begins. “It’s exactly that hybrid he has protected all these years.”    

The three Shadow alphas frown as they process Jungkook’s last words.

“You’re telling us that yn is still alive?” one of them asks.

Jungkook only nods. Tears start forming in the oldest Shadow’s eyes.

“Mr. Song saved her when you found her and her parents and made you believe he had executed her. My father later found out about her existence but never did anything. They both knew it was wrong, but killing a ten-year-old was a burden too heavy to be carried,” he explains.

“But they didn’t say anything all these years,” the oldest Shadow says. “They mourned with us someone they knew was alive.”

Jungkook understands the Shadow’s point of view, but what can he say? His father is long gone and he barely knows why he kept you alive. Mr. Song is the only one who can answer that question. However, he discovered why his father used to disappear every year on the 15th of July. His father was actually going to your grandparents’ house to mourn you—or at least that’s what he made everybody believe.

“They saw how devastated her grandparents were,” he continues. “I’m sure they would have welcomed her no matter what. She’s their granddaughter.”

“Can you really speak on their behalf?” Yuna interrupts. “Would they really protect their hybrid granddaughter?” Her tone cuts like a knife.

“I’m not entirely sure, but after what they’ve been saying all these years, I strongly doubt they wouldn’t have protected her,” he answers.

“They would have died protecting her,” she says.

“I keep forgetting how coldhearted you Bloods are,” he retorts.

“Please calm down,” Jungkook intervenes. “Let’s not fight over what people did or might have done.”

Yuna is without any doubt a very coldhearted person, she only thinks about herself and what benefits her. As Jungkook is looking at her, he wonders how he ever loved her. She’s becoming a person he would have never wanted by his side. He would have never wanted her to be his queen.

“She’s alive,” Jungkook continues. “She was protected for years by my late father and Mr. Song. And for that reason, I have decided to let her live.”

Right now, revealing his soulmate bond doesn’t seem like the right approach. Jungkook strongly believes that it’s best to start by revealing your hybrid existence. Mentioning that you’re carrying the next heir might make all of this difficult.

“You must be crazy,” Yuna almost shouts. “That woman needs to die.”

“I agree,” another Blood says. “The rules are clear. Hybrids cannot exist.”

“Mr. Song also needs to be executed.”

Even though Jungkook is dying on the inside at the mere thought of losing you, he tries to act like he doesn’t feel anything. He’s kind of a master at doing that. It’s something his father taught him.  

“Nothing of this is her fault,” the oldest Shadow answers. “She can’t pay for her parents’ sins thirty years later.”

“He’s not wrong,” a Lunar agrees. “They already paid for what they did. She’s not at fault. Even our late and beloved King Taemoo protected her.”

Jungkook is still trying to understand why his father kept you alive. For sure, he promised Felix protection, but you were a hybrid. He wished his father was here right now to explain why he did this. He really wants to understand why.

“She’s a hybrid,” Yuna claps back. “What don’t you understand? Her life is completely banned. Can you imagine if she has children or if one day she’ll have one? What would they be like? They’ll carry our legacy which they can’t as humans.”

“And yet, here we are, debating her existence instead of following the so-called ‘law’ without question. If our kind was so absolute, why has she survived all this time? Why did the former king allow it? Maybe it’s time we reconsider what we think we know,” a Lunar alpha answers.

A devious chuckle leaves her lips.

“You speak as if the blood of a hybrid is tainted, but you forget—she has Shadow blood. That is our blood. You claim to want to protect our kind, yet you’d erase one of our own without hesitation. Perhaps the real threat isn’t her existence, but your inability to see beyond outdated traditions,” the youngest Shadow alpha adds.

“We aren’t talking about her werewolf blood,” a Blood alpha answers. “We’re talking about her human side. She’s completely unpredictable.”

“She isn’t,” Jungkook replies. “She’s actually very much like us. You probably have already met her, and you don’t even know,” he obviously alludes when Yuna met you. “She carries both types of blood, but it doesn’t mean she is half a wolf. She’s fully one. She has the exact same abilities as a Shadow, she turns during full moons, and she also has wolf powers. She’s not different and definitely not unpredictable.”

Yuna rolls her eyes. This whole conversation exasperates her. For her, everything is simple. You’re a hybrid, and you should suffer the consequences of that. She really wants to tease him by revealing his unborn child, but although she might be a cold person, she doesn’t want to take that away from him. It’d be very disrespectful towards her king.

“I stand my ground,” she says. “She shouldn’t remain alive.”

The Shadow Alphas totally disagree with her as they refuse to kill someone carrying their blood. The Lunars stand with the Shadows, they don’t understand how Yuna wants to kill someone based on a damn old rule. So, at this stage, no matter what the Bloods desire, they are outnumbered in their decision.

However, Jungkook is the King so if he decides not to proceed with your execution, nobody can really do anything about it. This council simply exists to have the possibility to discuss. Yuna knows deep down that she can keep disagreeing as much as she wants, but her wishes won’t be granted.  

The matter is quickly closed, and they decide to move to another one. Jungkook is grateful that most Alphas agreed with his decision. It would have been tough to deal with most of them disagreeing. This meeting would have lasted much longer.

At the end of the gathering, the three Shadow alphas come closer to him in an attempt to discuss. Jungkook was expecting it as he can only imagine how it must feel to find out about you.  

 “We would like to speak with you about yn,” they request.

The King nods and one of the Alphas closes the room’s door.

“Yn’s grandparents need to know she’s still alive,” the oldest one says. “It’s heartbreaking to watch them mourn their daughter and granddaughter.”

“I know,” Jungkook replies. “They deserve to know the truth.”  

“Could you be the one delivering the news?” The youngest asks.

“Of course,” Jungkook nods. “I will see if yn would like to meet them.”

“It would be great.”

“In the meantime,” the king proceeds. “It’s better if you ensure nobody tells them.”

“We will,” they nod.    

Now, Jungkook only has to inform you about their wish, and it also makes him nervous, because he doesn’t know how you could react to this.

You’re curled up on the couch, peacefully watching TV, but your mind barely registers whatever is playing. Your thoughts are lost on the little life growing inside you, and what life could look like once your boy is out. You can picture Jungkook holding him. You can picture yourself rocking your baby to sleep. You can picture yourself being a mother with Jungkook by your side.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door brings you back.

Your frown before your eyes flick toward the clock on the wall. Who would be coming this late? You aren’t expecting anyone tonight. A sinking feeling creeps into your stomach, and with hesitant steps, you move toward the intercom.

The moment you see her face, your blood runs cold. Yuna. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a second, it feels like your body has forgotten how to function. How is she here? How the hell did she find you?

With shaky hands, you grab your phone, nearly dropping it in your panic. Your fingers move on autopilot, dialing Jungkook’s number, pressing the phone to your ear as your heartbeat hammers against your ribcage. You don’t even care if he’s busy—you just need him now. You need his presence and protection.

A voice crackles through the intercom, smooth and deliberate, sending a chill down your spine.

"I know you’re there," you suck in a sharp breath. "I can sense you, yn."

Your heart slams against your ribs. She knows your name. Your grip on the phone tightens. Fear coils in your stomach like a vice, squeezing the air from your lungs. This isn’t a coincidence. She came here for you. But how? How did she know where to find you? And more importantly… what does she want?

“Open the door,” she urges. “I just want to speak with you.”

There’s absolutely no way you’ll open the door to this woman. Although last time you weren’t really scared of her, this time you are. If she’s here…

“Yn,” Jungkook’s voice cut short your scary thoughts. “I’m on my way.”

Well, you guess this soulmate bond made him sense you’re in danger.

“Open the damn door,” Yuna insists.

Instinctively, your hands move to your stomach, caressing it softly. This is such a comforting gesture, but it doesn’t make Yuna disappear. She’s still there, looking at the damn intercom and waiting for you to open the door. She’s scary. There’s something this time around about her that deeply frightens you. Her aura has changed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jungkook is now in front of her.

“Of course, you’d come,” she says with the most devious smirk plastered on her face. “Saving the little hybrid carrying your child.”

Your entire body freezes at her words. She knows.

“Why didn’t you mention it two days ago in the council’s meeting?” she crosses her arms. “You were scared…”

“Shut up, Yuna,” he says with clear annoyance. “You’re starting to be ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m ridiculous…” she repeats. “What about the king who impregnated a hybrid and whose heir will not be a pure-blood.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you follow this conversation through the intercom. It’s obvious that he’s way more powerful than her. The way his body is standing strong before her is impressive.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“She and her child can’t exist,” her tone is sharp.

“Answer my question,” he demands.

“You know why I’m here.”

“I said,” his tone is firm which sends shivers down your spine. “Answer my question.”

The man you see on the intercom is barely recognizable. You’ve never seen him like this; angry and protective.

“I wanted…” she seems to hesitate, momentarily thrown off by Jungkook’s commanding presence. But then she straightens her shoulders, trying to regain her confidence.  “I wanted to see her with my own eyes,” her voice is laced with disgust and curiosity. “The hybrid you called ‘girlfriend’. The abomination carrying your child.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his entire body radiating tension.

“Watch your mouth, Yuna,” he says.

“You can’t seriously think this will stand,” she scoffs, crossing her arms. “You may be the King, but even you can’t change centuries of law and tradition. She shouldn’t exist. And that thing inside of her?” She shakes her head. “It’s an insult to our bloodline.”

Inside, your heart pounds. You can barely breathe as you listen to the woman who clearly despises you—who sees your unborn child as nothing more than a mistake to be erased. Her reaction is a mere reflection of how this world will welcome you. Jungkook took it kind of well, but he’s your soulmate so that doesn’t count. The other werewolves won’t welcome you with open arms. And they certainly won’t acknowledge you the second they find out about your baby boy.

Jungkook takes a step closer to Yuna, his voice dangerously low. Honestly, this man right here frightens you just as much as Yuna. This version of your soulmate is one that you’d never want to meet in person. You swallow hard as you watch them.  

“You came here thinking you could intimidate her, didn’t you?” his lips curl into something between a smirk and a snarl. “You’ve forgotten something, Yuna,” he gets closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m her child’s father and the King.”  

Yuna stiffens, but she isn’t done yet.

“The council accepted her, but they won’t accept your child, Jungkook,” she says. “They won’t ever accept a Ruler whose mother is a hybrid. You know that.”

“Then let them come,” he challenges, his red eyes glowing in the dim light. “But if anyone lays a hand on yn or my child, I will personally make them regret it.”

Yuna exhales sharply, her nails digging into her palms. This isn’t the Jungkook she once knew. This is a King. A mate protecting what’s his.

“She’s your soulmate, right?” her voice almost breaks as she speaks.

You can sense Jungkook’s hesitation, and you can understand it. He doesn’t want her to know you’re both tight by a powerful bond. A bond she always seemed to crave.

“No need to confirm it,” she proceeds as she notices he doesn’t say anything. “Your scents say it all. A King and a hybrid,” she whispers. “Sounds ironic.”

Yuna is aware she doesn’t stand a chance in front of that bond. Jungkook will keep showing up every time she’ll come around you. She’s heard people talking about how soulmates can feel whenever they are in danger. And she knows he’ll protect you with his life because that’s how he is. It’s a quality she always liked about him. When they were together, she always felt safe around him.

Deep down, she always desired to be his soulmate, but they always knew they weren’t. They were in love, she didn’t even question it, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t this magnetic love that constantly pulls you together. The proof is that he let her go. And it hurts.

“Just leave,” Jungkook commands.

This time, she decides to give up. So she turns her heels before disappearing into the night, leaving behind a thick tension. Once he’s sure she won’t come back, he knocks at your door.

“She’s gone,” he says through the intercom. “Let me in, sunshine.”

The nickname spreads warmth in your chest, and you don’t hesitate to open the door. The second he comes into view, you throw yourself in his arms. He closes his eyes when he feels the panic running through your veins. The soulmate bond is all fun until your mate goes through something deep.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers before pressing a kiss on your hair. “So sorry.”

You hold him tight in your arms, not wanting to let him go. She scared you.

“I’m here now,” he continues.

His strong arms are enough to comfort you. You rest your head against his toned chest, your mind only focusing on his heartbeat. Jungkook rests his head on top of yours with his eyes closed. He hates that Yuna managed to figure out about you. She’s clever, but he wasn’t expecting her to pick up the pieces so quickly. It pains him to see you like that.

When you end the embrace, your eyes meet.

“I can’t let you live here alone after this,” he tells you. “You’re staying at my place.”

“Jungkook…” you try to argue.

“There’s no Jungkook,” he instantly says.

“This was just a one-time thing.”

“Sunshine,” he cups your face in his hands. “I could feel your panic from where I was, and it was suffocating. I don’t ever want to feel it and see it in your face anymore. I’m not letting you alone anymore.”

Well, you guess you can’t really argue. No matter what you say, he’ll find an answer. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind spending your days with him.

“Okay,” you admit in defeat. “But can we stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” he nods and presses a kiss on your forehead.

[inklessletter]

"Let me hate you." "That won't change a thing."

This is what happens when the amazing, unbelievably talented @stervrucht suggest that we collab (like, this morning, literally). Dropped everything to give her something to work her magic on.

At risk of being a bit too much (I warned you), let me tell you, this is the most fun I've had playing around with art in a long, LONG time. Thank you for this amazing experience, art buddy 💞

Lineart + ficlet (below) - @inklessletter

Colouring - @stervrucht

WC: 917 | Steddie, Steve's POV, Mild Hurt/Comfort, internalized homophobia.

THE CAGE

In the cage, they're always skin to skin.

Lip to lip.

In the cage, there's an obscene amount of props to change the scene whenever Steve feels like it, so they can be together in every alternative universe.

(Oh, Steve knows now a lot of alternative universes, because it's hard not to listen to him when he speaks so passionately.)

He speaks up, shares secrets, holds hands and looks straight in the eye of Eddie Munson with no fear, in the cage.

And Eddie reciprocates. He stares back right into Steve's soul and he feels like nothing but flesh and bones made to break with love words. Steve longs to be no more, no less.

In the cage.

The cage is safe, because it's secret. Nobody knows about it, not even Robin. Talking about the cage means it exists. And if it exists, then he has to do something about it. It hasn't always existed, though. There was a time where Steve wore his heart on his sleeve and, well, you know, he never got a good eye to guess how strong or delicate are the things he holds.

His heart was fine once, though. Now it's patched up, now he's more careful with it. Fragile, damaged goods that he's sure that can't afford another blow. Not even a little one.

Not even by accident.

So, the cage is impenetrable. Nobody comes in, nobody comes out except what Steve decides, and this time, the cage fits everything that can't exist with Eddie Munson out of it.

The cage is where all those feelings he can't ever express go to die, and they both bury them together. Steve and Eddie. They make art with it.

The cage is fine, the cage is safe, because everything is contained in there.

Until it's not.

Until that stupid morning he wakes up in a mess of bed sheets that feel ablaze, and he's sweaty, and half hard, and wet, and he wakes up with Eddie's name in his lips.

But hey, nobody is there to listen to it, so does a tree make a sound when there's nobody to hear it fall down?

That is no comfort, though. Not even in the slightest.

Because there's a breach in the cage, now.

He said his name and his heart is balancing on breaking branches and unstable now.

After that day, everything leaks.

He blushes, ridiculously so, when Eddie so much looks at him.

He tries not to flinch at the accidental touch, not to react to the shock wave it sends through his system, and given that Eddie is a very tactile person, it's torture.

He never looks at him in the eye. He might see the breach. The cage.

They are never alone.

Not anymore, really.

Steve avoids it, and it's getting more and more difficult to find excuses, because they see each other all the time.

He's starting to notice that Eddie knows something and Steve is freaking out. Eddie acts a bit hurt with every rejection, and good. Steve would rather Eddie thinks that he doesn't like him than to admit the truth.

But it's a loss.

The cage is the home of uninvited grief now.

Steve wonders, when he's alone, holding his heart with shaky hands, if he has the right to cry.

Hasn't cried in years.

Steve decides that he hasn't any.

Puts his heart away, broken glass, in a shelf to gather dust, though he knows he might forget about it and break it accidentally when he tries to clean his cage.

Has happened before, will happen again, because Steve is cursed.

A fight is the better choice.

Destroy the cage.

He goes to meet Eddie to be his worst self, he's got experience in that. He can be mean, no, cruel. He'll be cruel, he'll make him want not to be in the same room with him and Steve will eventually find peace.

He will be able to rest.

To fall in a dreamless sleep in what's left of what was safe once.

Yeah, he'll do that.

Only it's not that what happens.

Steve is tense, doesn't know if to punch or run. Push him against the wall because how dares Eddie to be understanding. How dares he to be considerate, and how dares he to read and listen what's coming out of the cage.

What give him the right.

How dares he to say "it's okay."

Fuck you, Eddie, it is not okay.

He's wrong.

He's delicate.

How dares he to grab his heart, he's going to crush it with those stupid, careless fingers full of stupid rough silver chunks he wears for jewelry.

Fuck you, Eddie.

He actually says that, though.

"Fuck you."

The fact that he's about to cry, now, of all times he could have done it, he's about to cry now, when his voice is shaky, and his insults don't land.

"I love you."

His heart is in pieces.

He is in pieces. Destroyed. Demolished.

"Let me hate you", is what he begs. Isn't that pathetic?

"That won't change a thing."

Eddie is touching him now and Steve is not flinching. He wants to grab his face, push him away, scream and spit on his face. Why is Eddie not seeing what Steve is trying to do here? He's just trying to survive, because he can't avoid it anymore. He's already broken.

Has been for a while now.

Outside the cage, they're now skin to skin.

Lip to lip.