#although she's barely built?

[carrotcouple]

@rest-in-bees and I have a weekly ritual where we fight Scara's weekly boss even though we don't need his drops (because he's my favorite little meow meow)

[strangedaymare]

The Wayne/Phantom Double Date

Dick and Jason decided to plan a double date (it was mainly Dick but Jason was to tired to disagree) what they didn't know, was that their boyfriends already knew each other... Or that Dick's boyfriend was Jason's boyfriend from a fucked up timeline who was currently on, what was essentially, community service.

When Danny and Dan found out though? They did not miss the chance to be the chaotic little gremlins that they are.

Jason and Danny walk into the diner and walk into the booth where Dick and Dan are sitting in

Dick: there you are. Dan, this is Jason and his boyfriend, Danny

Dan, acting angry: yeah, Danny and I have met...

Danny, going along with it: Dan, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm sorry

Dan: Sorry doesn't erase the years of trauma and abandonment that you put me and dad through

Danny: Son, I'm sorry, but your father was a psychopath

Dick and Jason are just sitting there, confused because how the fuck is this twink that looks barely 27 is the father of this 37 year old that's built like a brick shithouse.

Dick: I... Did you know about this?

Jason: Nope!

Dan: he didn't tell you? Typical.

Danny: Son-

Dan, getting really into it, so into it that it's suspicious now: No! You lost the right to call me that when you left!

Dick, realising what's going on: oh my god, they're fucking with us

Danny: Damn it! We had at least another 10 minutes if you didn't get dramatic!

Jason: wait, wait, wait, you're not his dad?

Dan: I mean... In a way, he is, although, we prefer "brothers" we are still debating who's the older one though

Dick: what?

Danny: Dan is me from another timeline where my ghost combined with my godfather/uncle/arch-nemesis' ghost

Jason: that Vlad guy you told me about? He is a psychopath

Dick: that explains the murderous intent

Dan: that's right, Rich

Dick: Dick

Dan: you'll be getting mine later

Danny bursts out laughing

Jason: I see the resemblance now

Dan: hey, be glad Ellie's not here, she would have pulled the "are you my new daddy" card

After this, the double date went well, they all got along, Jason found out he could pull the "I fucked your dad" card on Dan. Danny, unfortunately, figured out that Dan has the same taste in people as Vlad, Dick made the joke that Dan is a Crystal gem.

And for entirely shits and giggles, here's how Dan and Danny found out

Danny: Dan, can't do chores on Friday night, I got a date

Dan: well fuck you, because I've got a date too

Danny: well, I'm meeting my boyfriends brother so

Dan: me to...

Danny:... Who's your boyfriend again?

Dan: the oldest Wayne son...

Danny: mine is the second oldest... Wanna fuck with them?

Dan: Absolutely

[gravegoer]

i humbly suggest pirate sevika in small letters

thank you for your service

Sail the Seven Seas ☠︎︎

i had this in the works ! you read my mind, we have cowboy sevika, but we absolutely need pirate sevika, i did a little "how you met" before the hcs ! also ill greatfully take any other requests for pirate sevika i love her sm (i hope you appreciate the pirate hat i edited on her lol)

She found you when her crew was raiding a ship, you were kept prisoner in the dark dungeons below deck after the pirates robbed a bar.

Sevika was inclined to leave you there, as she was in a rush. But your pleading eyes convinced her.

She told you to back up and pulled the flimsy metal door right off the hinges. Your only experience with pirates was your former kidnappers.

They were ruthless and had not a care in the world. They were greedy enough to pat you down even though you cried and insisted you had no form of money on you other than the jewelry they had ripped from your limbs.

But after she ripped the door off, she simply walked away, not sparing you a second glance. She set you free, but now what? Were you supposed to swim to land?

You hesitated before running up the old wooden stairs, the faint moonlight beamed on your face. It smelled fresh on deck, no longer having the musky odor of mold and wood filling your nose.

You were also greeted with the sight of the woman that freed you, her back facing you and pointing to crew members, yelling orders. She must be the captain, signified by her detailed hat and especially the way the crew listened to her.

People scurried under her gaze almost cowardly. Boxes were being hauled onto a much bigger ship (which you assumed was hers) over a wooden plank.

She was tall and obviously built. You could tell even though she was adorned with many layers, straps, and belts accentuated her curves and edges. She had a metal prosthetic that looked dangerous. Not only that, but a gun and two swords hung from her waist.

You approached her timidly, the floorboards squeaking under your bare feet. When you sat a hand on her arm, urging her to turn around, she put a larger hand on the hilt of her sword defensively and spun to face you.

At just the force of it, you stumbled back. She was strong. Your eyes widened at her hands, hovering over the holster of her weapon. She spoke, "What are you trying to do?"

Her voice was gruff and demanding, leaving no room for questions. "I don't have anywhere to go," you stated honestly.

"And what do you expect me to do about that."

Although she put on the front of a rough demeanor, her eyes scanned your frame in curiosity. Worn clothes hung from your body, hair a mess, and despite it all, you were quite pretty.

She knew she couldn't take you on a ship with a bunch of men. In her eyes, it was almost as dangerous as leaving you on the ship to fend for yourself.

Almost.

She took you onto her ship with the promise that at the next stop they had, she would drop you off there. Whether or not you knew where you were.

Having no better option, you opted to go with her. She didn't shackle you up or restrain you, knowing you could do little to no harm to her or her crew.

She refused to put you in the berth with other pirates. It was stuffy and cramped, and all in all, no place for you.

So you had a room next to her (and an odd blue haired girl). She said it was fine because it's temporary anyway.

She gave you some clothes that fit, and a pair of shoes to put on your feet. And the room was more than you could ask for. It was spacious and contained a lavish bed.

You assumed it was someone else's room previously as it was already decorated. (Plus, she told you not to meddle in any of the stuff)

Sevika didnt expect you to do anything, thinking you werent fit to operate on a ship so, you were not asked to do any work. In all your boredom you found yourself roaming around the ship, looking at the stuff that was collected in each corner. Some trinkets, belts, broken weapons, etc.

Sevika watched you closely, making sure you didn't have any ulterior motives. Eventually, she realized that you were nothing but curious.

Then she watched you closely to make sure you didn't fall overboard.

At meals, you stuck close by her side, not really knowing anyone on board yet. She gave you things off her plate, saying you looked starved. And you didn't complain. You weren't really fed in the dungeons.

She started to show you around the deck, answering your questions about the sea and her ship. When you started to ask too many questions, she sighed and shook her head, wandering off to attend to her duties.

She was truly a mystery to you, not being able to read her gaze or body language. But what you did know is that she was a ruthless captian. Always having something for her crew to do and ordering them around with her loud, booming voice.

She was intimidating in theory, yes. But towards you, she seemed a bit more.. lenient?

Nontheless, in a few days, you finally arrived at their next destination, and you stepped off the ship with everyone. Taking in the way the ground felt against your feet, no longer swaying from side to side.

You had no idea where you were, and even though it didn't seem like a bad place, you couldn't just start anew again. I mean, how were you supposed to rebuild your whole life?

Sevika sensed your anxiety as you wandered through the streets with her crew. She saw your eyes flick side to side, looking at the buildings and people.

She might regret it, but she couldn't just leave you here.

You were growing more worried by the hour, and when night fell and everyone started back to the docks, you felt lost. You stayed behind, watching them load back onto the ship when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. "You coming?"

Looking up, you locked eyes with Sevika, her brow was cocked and her lips slightly upturned. "You're letting me stay?" You questioned, in shock.

"Well, the ship is leaving soon, so only if you can make it." She teased.

You hugged her tight, wrapping your arms around her large frame. Her eyes widened in shock, not returning the hug before you ran off to the ship.

HC time !!

Now that you were deemed officially a part of the crew you had work to do, scrubbing the deck was a daily task. Even though other crew members seemed to dread it, you enjoyed smelling the fresh ocean air and feeling the wind on your back.

Sometimes you could feel Sevika's eyes on you as you cleaned, she sat at the helm, supposedly watching everyone. But when you turned around you would lock eyes with her and she would smirk.

When she sent the crew out on missions you grew to never be afraid, picking up on how to use weapons easily and fight alongside other people.

She almost admired this about you, it was like you were a natural. Like you belonged on her ship.

You didn't know what was on her mind most of the time. She was always closed off and didn't converse with anyone on ship except for Jinx, who was obviously closer to her than the rest of the crew.

But one fateful night you ran into her when you couldn't seem to get to sleep

You approached the bow of the ship, watching the moonlight reflect off the waves, and the clouds move with the wind. It was quite beautiful at night even though there wasn't much to look at other than water.

Hearing footsteps behind you, you put a hand to your holster but spun around to see Sevika. Seeing her in this light reminded you of the day you met her, but now you were in front of her, compared to the day she found you.

"Up so late?" She questioned, her voice indicated she had waken up recently.

"Yeah, I couldn't fall asleep," You let your guard down again and leaned against the wood, hand cradling your face as you stared back into the sea.

"Y'know.. I didn't think you had it in you." She commented.

"Had what in me?" You chuckled, "The guts to be a pirate?"

You talked for a long while after that, the sun hit the horizon by the time you said your goodbyes. You had a feeling that Sevika wouldn't be a mystery to you for much longer.

Eventually, she would come around to teach you how to fight properly, as you mostly fought based off of what you saw others do. She held your body close to hers, helping you mimic her movements. Feeling the buckles of her belts on your back, the coldness of her metal arm on your waist.

As a matter of fact she taught you a lot of things, like how to steer the ship: putting her hands over yours, pointing in the direction of where to go. Teasing you when your hands got tired, and taking over for you, letting you stand between her and the wheel.

She joined you in the crows nest, sitting beside you on the railing with a hand on your back, making sure you didn't fall. She would direct your telescope to look at nearby land or into the horizon.

You had a lot of talks up there.

Sometimes, the crew wondered what was going on between you two, as you were practically always together. (She denies all allegations.. for now)

She taught you how to wield a sword and fought with you for fun. Letting you win from time-to-time, you knew she let you. I mean, there's no way you'd be able to pin Sevika to the wooden deck without a struggle.

You would catch her sleeping on the helm, her feet kicked up on a chair and her hat on her face. As punishment, you would take her hat and keep it until morning. Then, prancing around the next day with it on, commanding the crew jokingly, pretending to be her.

When she finally caught you, she would sweep you up and take the hat right off your head, chuckling at your mischievousness. Sometimes, she would let you wear her hat, only if you promised not to lose it.

After particularly stressful missions, the crew would throw a small party for their winnings, needing time to wind down. You grew accustomed to the crew, even making a few friends with unlikely people.

You and Jinx drank a bit together and danced around on the table, singing sea shanties loudly. But eventually, Sevika would catch you all. And make you clean up. (But not before having a drink herself)

And it was almost a nightly routine to go up to the deck and talk once everyone was asleep, gazing into the moon with her. It felt natural. You felt like you belonged.

God i love her, i dream about her I swear. I love pirates... and I love sevika, pls send in more pirate sevika asks i wanna do a siren one too ngl maybe how Sevika isnt drawn in by your siren call because the captain is a woman AUGHHHHH

[wintrbears]

Cradle Robbers: The Third Trimester | JJK

Summary: Everything feels different after having the worst scare of your life, but your baby's due date is fast approaching and there's still plenty more important things to do than rifle through your ever-growing feelings for Jungkook. He certainly doesn't make it easy on you when he's constantly sweeping you off your feet.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Pregnancy AU, Childhood Friends to FWB to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Smut, Fluff, Crack, Angst (barely, you have to squint to see it)

Word Count: 24.9k+

Warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, water breaking, talks of bodily fluids, blood, blood transfusion, mentions of dizziness, anxiety, surprises, gifts, alcohol, thunderstorms, hospitals, doctors, nurses, scrubs, wheelchairs, crying, screaming, extreme physical pain, airplanes. SMUT: kissing, cuddling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, big dick jk!!!, oral sex (m receiving), doggy, dick riding, titty play, lactation kink, making out in the shower, cream pie, grinding, hair pulling, choking, manhandling, ok I think that might be it!

Author's Note: I actually cannot believe the final chapter is here. the amount of love I've received from this story is so overwhelming and it makes me unbelievably happy that you guys love these two as much as I do. here's to an epic conclusion for our couple and their beautiful baby! if you’ve given birth and see any inaccuracies pls just look the other way lol. also, to the anon that asked me about a lactation kink and I said no... I promise I'm not a liar you just inspired me to add one. thank you all so much for all the support. enjoy, my lovely readers :)

-> Cradle Robbers Masterpost

SEVEN

You sincerely hope your fellow grocery shoppers don’t see you with six bottles of wine balancing on your baby bump and think you’re a monster. It obviously isn’t for you, but stranger things have happened and you have no control over what these people may think of you. 

The sole reason you’re purchasing copious amounts of alcohol is because it’s wine night, and tonight is the inaugural gathering at your house. The girls are all unbelievably excited to see the illustrious home, including the partially decorated nursery they’ve only seen via video call.

It’s since been painted a neutral beige color with an adorable cat and dog mural on the wall behind the crib. More artwork occupies the remaining walls, including a set of picture frames containing photos of you and Jungkook from childhood until now. The furniture’s all been built at this point, although some of it still needs to be placed and secured to the wall. The ample supply of stuffed animals provided by none other than your baby’s father reside in a hammock above the rocking chair. 

Jungkook will be at Namjoon’s tonight along with the other guys so you can have the place to yourselves, which you’re grateful for since it wouldn’t be very conducive to conversation if a central topic of your gossip is present. He certainly doesn’t need his ego stroked by you enthusiastically retelling the girls about all your wild sexual encounters. 

Visually taking stock of your haul, which mostly consists of junk food and wine, you mentally run through your shopping list one last time before heading to the checkout. The employee scanning your items looks surprised when she glances between your belly and the wine collection, but thankfully doesn’t comment on the questionable items. She informs you of the total and you tap Jungkook’s black card against the machine. Once you hear the familiar chime, you thank the woman and steer your cart towards the parking lot.

A recent development of your pregnancy is that you began your third and final trimester by quitting your job, hence why you’re paying for groceries with Jungkook’s card and not your own.

It’s been on the table for a while now, with you and Jungkook discussing it here and there over the last couple months. After crunching the numbers, the two of you mutually agreed it’s for the best. Since your salary is astronomically smaller than Jungkook’s, you would lose more money paying for childcare than by removing your salary from the equation altogether. 

Being a stay-at-home mom was never the plan, even when you were younger, but now that you’re pregnant, the idea is more appealing than ever. Not only do you want to be present for all the special moments of their childhood, but Jungkook is loaded and there’s no reason to pay for a nanny or daycare when he can care for you financially while you take care of things at home. 

Truthfully, it’s been difficult depending on him, not because he makes it so, but because you still feel guilty using his money. Your last paycheck was about two weeks ago, so you’re exclusively using his funds and the first time you tapped his card against the machine you nearly bit your lip off. On the flip side, Jungkook’s been profusely scolding you for refusing to go on a huge spending spree with his no limit credit card. 

He’s been continuously sending you links to buy expensive jewelry, clothes, and handbags, and threatens to buy them for you himself if you don’t run his bank account dry soon. It’s the first time in his life you’ve given him the go ahead to support you in that way and he’s adamant about you taking advantage of the opportunity. 

Ironically, the only thing you’ve bought other than essentials is a gift for him. 

Last week his gaming headset snapped in half when Bam decided they were a perfect seat. Jungkook was rightfully distraught and refused to look his beloved pet in the eye for the remainder of the evening. Determined to mend their relationship, you went out the following morning to buy him the latest and greatest. 

When you presented him the gift, Jungkook lifted you so far above his head in excitement you feared hitting the ceiling. Despite his own bank account decreasing, the thoughtfulness of your act sent him over the moon with joy. He attacked you with kisses once your feet met the ground again, and you had to pry him off you before your lips turned purple. 

Independence is a key character trait of yours, so this new lifestyle is definitely an adjustment, but it would be a lie to say it doesn’t feel just a little bit nice using a card that doesn’t have your own name on it.��

During your drive home, the contact image of Jungkook positively cheesing next to your most recent ultrasound photo appears on the dashboard screen. Your heart does an involuntary flip at the sight, and you press the green answer button just as the car turns down your street.

“Hey, baby.”

Despite his usage of a pet name, Jungkook sounds exasperated, and maybe slightly annoyed, when the phone connects.

“Koo? Is everything alright?”

“No, Bams,” he admits begrudgingly. “There’s a leak under the kitchen faucet. It’s pretty bad. I don’t think we can have the girls over tonight, but I already called the Blue Lagoon Lounge and booked a room for you guys. The drinks and food are all paid for already. So, text the girls to let them know and have fun, okay?”

“What? Jungkook, are you sure? If the leak isn’t going to take more than a couple hours I can just tell the girls to come later.”

“No, no,” Jungkook says. “Just go enjoy yourself and I’ll take care of this. I don’t want your night to be cut short at all. The reservation is under Jeon.”

“Alright,” you mumble. “Love you, talk to you soon.”

“Love you more, Bambi, I’ll see you soon.”

You voice-to-text your group chat to reiterate the news and your friends are downright ecstatic about having access to unlimited free food and drinks. 

In fact, the last text to ping your phone from Tzuyu reads: “thank you so fucking much for getting knocked up by a sexy millionaire. I owe you my life.” The three other members of the chat heart react the message. 

When you arrive at the restaurant, you look down and mentally congratulate yourself on already being dressed in your attire for the evening. It’s unusually warm for this time of year, so you’re in a floral tea-length dress with your hair up. Your friend group doesn’t normally get dolled up for these occasions, but Mina is finally ready to reacclimate herself to the dating scene and suggested a mini photoshoot for your choice of entertainment tonight. 

The Blue Lagoon Lounge is massive, with a full dining room, smaller private suites, and large banquet halls in the back. Upon telling the hostess the name, she leads you through a couple of winding hallways and rooms. She gestures towards a pair of double doors once you reach your destination and you gaze at her inquisitively, wondering if she got the room right. Sensing your confusion, she nods to reaffirm her guidance and steps aside so you can enter. 

The moment your feet cross the threshold, the eruption of sound from inside the room makes you jump in shock.

“SURPRISE!” 

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head as your jaw falls open.

All of your friends and family are scattered around the large room which overlooks the river on the edge of your city. The multitude of round tables which occupy the space are decorated beautifully with white, purple, and yellow flowers along with gorgeous fine china place settings. There’s a liberal sized bar along the back wall and an even bigger buffet table in the corner closest to you.  

When your surveying eyes land on Jungkook, who's standing with your friends beside the grand, floor length windows, he smirks and wiggles his phone in accomplishment. 

“You little liar!” 

“I did good, right?”

“Yes, which is concerning because you’re a terrible liar,” you say while approaching them.

“Oh, don’t worry, he needed plenty of coaching,” Mina states.

“We went over the script four times,” Nayeon mentions.

“And my hands still shook!” Jungkook responds before holding his hand up to show you it twitching. 

You clasp the appendage between your own and kiss his knuckles, pulling him into you for a tight embrace. He laughs heartily as his arms latch around you, tugging you up against him until your heels lift from the floor. His hand holds the nape of your neck while you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to him. “This is amazing.”

“I didn’t do anything besides pay for it, Bambi. Your friends did all this,” he tells you. 

“Uh, see, now he’s getting a little too good at lying,” Tzuyu says from behind you. “It was his idea, Y/N.”

You reluctantly depart from his warmth, but lace your fingers together while you stand side by side.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head modestly. “I mentioned it once in passing and you guys took it from there.”

“So humble, JK,” Jihyo clicks her tongue disapprovingly. 

Hugging the girls one by one, you thank them for sacrificing a wine night for your surprise baby shower before moving throughout the room to greet everyone else who came to celebrate you.

Jungkook follows closely behind with a hand on your lower back, thanking everyone for coming with an adorable bow of his head. He does it so much that at one point you place your hand beneath his chin to stop him so he doesn’t get a headache. 

Your parents are last, but of course not least, and you don’t miss the way your moms make eye contact with matching cheshire grins when they notice where Jungkook’s hand resides. 

The six of you exchange hugs and your mom holds your hands afterwards, excitedly shaking them in the air. 

“Oh sweetie, weren’t you so surprised?” She asks.

“Yes! It was the last thing I was expecting, but I’m so grateful everyone came,” you answer her.

“You’re glowing, sweetpea,” your dad comments.

Once the greetings are complete, everyone moseys around grabbing drinks and placing their gifts on the long table at the front of the room. You join Jungkook at the bar to grab his drink, which he thrice pretends to hand you before pulling it back with an annoyingly cute giggle. Rolling your eyes, you take his hand and lead him to the little sweetheart table at the very center of the wall of windows which faces the rest of the room.

Before tables are dismissed one by one to grab food from the buffet, Jihyo stands and clinks a fork against her glass to garner everyone’s attention. 

“Hi everyone, for those who don’t know me, I’m Jihyo. I want to say a little something before we eat and celebrate the amazing woman sitting at the front of the room.” She beckons towards you with her hands and the sound of everyone’s cheers turns your face bright red. “Y/N is the most loving, caring, wonderful soul I’ve ever known and although it wasn’t planned,” she purposely whispers the last word, sending a wave of laughter across the room. “I am absolutely certain she’ll be the most amazing mother the world has ever known. I love you so much, babe, and I can’t wait to meet your little one.” 

She raises her glass for a toast, and you parrot the act with your virgin mimosa. 

“I believe the little one’s daddy also has something he’d like to say?”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, his hand pointing to his chest in surprise, clearly not expecting the spotlight. Jihyo nods encouragingly and shoots him a double thumbs up as she takes her seat. Always one for a challenge, Jungkook cracks his neck, clicks his tongue, and clears his throat before standing with his drink in hand. 

“Hello,” Jungkook says quietly while fidgeting with his shirt collar. “I’m fairly certain everyone here knows me, since you can’t really know Bambi without knowing me, too.” He taps his fingers against his glass as he ponders his next move. “I, um…” You squeeze his hand where it rests on his thigh and a smile creeps onto his face, his eyes briefly catching your supportive gaze. “Jihyo’s right, this wasn’t planned, not even a little bit, but it was without a doubt the best surprise of my life.” 

Jungkook’s ears go red to match the blush painting his cheeks. 

“I’m so incredibly thankful to call her my best friend and the mother of my child. I know I’ll never be able to repay her for everything she’s going through to bring our little one into the world. Her body and mind have been through hell and I’ve spent my entire life chasing away whatever may bring her pain and sorrow, so it’s been really challenging to feel so helpless. But she handles everything so beautifully, with so much grace and understanding, and I grow more in awe of her with every passing day.” 

He takes a deep breath and faces you with his glass held high. 

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Bams, and there’s nothing you deserve more than to be celebrated for everything you do and will do in the future as a mother. I love you more than words can describe, Y/N.”

You gasp, your hands slapping against your mouth as tears immediately threaten your waterline. It’s been nearly two decades since the last time you heard the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, and you don’t think the syllables have ever sounded so beautiful. 

Jungkook smiles devilishly at the exact reaction he was hoping to pull from you. 

Your head falls forward as you cry into your palms, the kindhearted words from both him and Jihyo making your heart clench from all the love it’s receiving. Jungkook returns to his seat to console you, letting you cry on his shoulder instead. 

“You said my name,” you whimper.

The sound of his low chuckle meets your ears.

“Don’t get used to it, Bambi.”

He places multiple kisses between the strands of your hair and wipes the remaining tears away after you raise your head. If you weren’t currently surrounded by loved ones, you’d kiss him senseless and probably drop to your knees if you’re being totally honest.

When you glance around the room after falling back into your chair with a sigh, you notice your mom dabbing her waterline with a tissue while his mom reapplies the makeup under her eyes. You giggle and nudge Jungkook to show him, and he joins in your adoration of the two women with a loving shake of his head. 

Following dinner, your four friends run a series of typical baby shower games, some of which are guessing games while others require basic baby knowledge. 

You barely partake in the festivities yourself, too busy goofing off with Jungkook as he writes the most incorrect answers imaginable. The two of you laugh hysterically through every question as if you’re the only ones present, despite being the sole reason for the celebration.

An executive decision is made to open gifts at home rather than have everyone watch you ooh and aww at baby trinkets for an hour. It’s far more appealing to you to walk around and mingle with your loved ones, which is precisely what you do after dessert. 

“It’s the woman of the hour!” Yunjin cheers as you place yourself on Chaewon’s lap and rest your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you guys so much for coming,” you tell them.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Hoseok states.

“We’re so happy for you, Y/N, and we’re so excited to be aunts and uncles,” Namjoon says.

“Also, are you and Jungkook like… a thing, because eyes don’t lie and that man is googoo gaga for you,” Eunchae asks. 

“And it’s not like you’re any better,” Yoongi adds.

You nibble on your lip as your eyes peruse the room and land on Jungkook’s silhouette standing beside your dads. 

“No, at least, not officially, but something’s definitely changed recently,” you answer honestly.

“How so?” Jin asks.

“You guys know how we went through that awful miscarriage scare last month?” They all nod. “Well, ever since then it feels like the energy’s shifted. Neither of us have said anything, but I know we both feel it. I mean, I’ve slept in his bed every night since, we constantly kiss outside of sexual activities, and we’ve started casually calling each other baby.”

“Oh, so you guys are like, in love love,” Jimin states.

“I don’t know,” you respond. “He’s always taken up nearly my entire heart, but I’m still figuring out if he’s finally got a monopoly on it or not.”

“Y/N, honey, you said so yourself you’ve never been happier,” Chaewon notes. “Don’t overthink it.”

You flash her a grateful smile as a thank you for her advice before telling them you’ll see them later and going to converse with your other guests.  

At one point, you realize you haven’t seen Taehyung or Mina in a while and do a once over of the room. When you spot them cuddled up in the back corner giggling to each other, you smirk. They hooked up once a few years ago before Mina started dating Mingyu, and you would be more than happy to see them rekindle their affair.

You catch Jungkook’s attention from across the room and point to them as nonchalantly as possible. When his eyes land on them, they light up and he makes a proud OK sign with his hand. 

Some people stay for a while and others wish you good luck with the delivery before sunset, but by the time Jungkook is done loading all the presents in your dad’s truck, only your parents remain.  

“Oh, shit, I don’t have a car,” Jungkook states when he returns for a final sweep of the room. “I drove over here with Tzuyu.”

It wouldn’t normally be an issue since you and him could drive home together, but for storage purposes your parents are taking the gifts home and he has to follow behind your dad to help bring them inside. 

“Just take my car and I’ll go with my mom,” you suggest.

Everyone exchanges goodbyes and you tell Jungkook you’ll see him later at home. He bends down to kiss your cheek after you hug him, and it forces you to hide a radiant blush crawling up your face and neck.

It’s familiar being in the passenger seat of your mom’s car, although it's been a while. She drives through the city towards your house with the radio on low, but you can already tell she’s itching to speak.

“Sweetie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Sensing where this is going, you inhale exasperatedly. “No, don’t give me excuses. I know you’ve been keeping things from me because you don’t want me to get my hopes up.”

You sit back in your seat, your arms crossing over each other. 

“It’s just not any of your business, Mom,” you tell her.

“I don’t need to know everything, especially that stuff, but I can tell you have a lot on your mind. And I know something is going on. I see the way you look at him and how he looks at you. It’s not the same as it was before.” She squeezes your thigh lovingly. “Just talk to me, sweetheart.”

“There… there isn’t much to say.” She sends a disapproving glance in your direction. “Okay, yeah, maybe things have changed, but I don’t know in what way yet. I think we’re both happy with the way things are and don’t feel a need to label it or discuss it. Maybe once the baby’s born, we will.”

“Are you alright with that? You usually tell Jungkook everything the very moment it enters your mind.”

“It’s different this time. I’m not afraid to tell him or worry I’ll get rejected, but it just feels like we’re in this perfect bubble of joy and love and I don’t want to pop it.”

“What if it doesn’t pop, though? What if it makes the bubble even stronger?”

You toss her words around in your mind, nodding your head as your brain parses through the information.

“That would be nice.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you, sweetie, and I don’t want you to ever take my feelings into account when yours are the only ones that matter, but I want all the happiness in the world for you and that boy is heaven sent.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile. “He is. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“That would be me,” she proudly reminds you. 

You laugh with your head thrown back. And to think, the only reason you’re all here today is because their university randomly assigned them to be roommates. 

She drops you off at home with a hug and kiss on your cheek. Once inside, you hear Usagi meowing in annoyance at someone and when you round the corner, you see Jungkook rolling her back and forth on the couch as though she’s a furry rolling pin. He merely giggles at her indignation and attacks her little head with kisses. 

“Leave my daughter alone, will you?”

“Hey, she’s my daughter, too,” Jungkook retorts with a pout. When he turns over his shoulder to see you, the pout’s long gone and been replaced by a peaceful smile. “Did you have fun tonight, Bambi?”

He stands to full height and slides his hands into his pockets, still dressed in his attire from the evening sans the sport coat. His poor dress shirt is barely holding on by a thread where it lays across his chest, the buttons holding on for dear life to fit over the contours of his pecs. The slacks he’s wearing aren’t doing much better, with the black fabric stretched tight to accommodate the muscular thighs beneath. It makes both your mouth and pussy water.

“Of course, I did! I can’t thank you enough, Koo,” you say while meeting him by the couch. 

“There’s no need to thank me, baby. You deserve it.”

“Well, I can think of something that you deserve in return,” you propose using the sultry eyes you know he melts for everytime. 

His eyebrows twitch upwards, an anticipatory smile growing as he holds your gaze. Instead of waiting for a reply, your hand shoves at his shoulder to send him tumbling backwards into the couch. Knees automatically spreading wide open for you, you use your leverage on his thighs to kneel before him.

“Bams, you don’t have to,” he tells you, but his hand is already in your hair as you unbuckle his belt. 

“I want to.” You bend down to kiss him over his boxers once his pants are in a puddle around his ankles. “I want to so fucking bad, baby.”

Jungkook moans when your tongue presses down on the fabric and causes his dick to twitch. You quickly pull the garment down his legs and let it fall atop his slacks. He’s already sporting a semi that makes your thighs clench, the sight of his thick cock slowly becoming one of your favorites. 

Pumping him with your hand, you kiss and bite his thick thighs until he’s rock hard and leaking precum down your palm. You lick over his slit with a hungry moan and Jungkook throws his head back against the couch in response. 

“Oh, babygirl, that feels so fucking good.”

His hand becomes a ponytail, pulling all the strands away from your face so you can work unhindered and he has a clear view of you sucking him off. 

Your lips leisurely wrap around his head while you stare into his steadily darkening eyes. When you use suction and torturously swirl your tongue beneath the ridge separating the head from his shaft, Jungkook’s hips buck up involuntarily and you have to hold him still by his thighs. Slowly, all without ever looking away, you sink lower and lower until you’re gagging around him because he’s scratching the back of your throat. 

Jungkook cries out in pleasure, his free hand grasping desperately onto one of yours to give him something to hold onto. 

Swallowing a couple times while he’s buried deep in your throat, you allow a teasingly long moment to pass before finally sticking your tongue out and bobbing your head along his cock. He groans deliriously and his thighs shake as you sloppily work your mouth over him, doing so because you know exactly how much he loves to see the drool spilling from your lips. 

“Good girl, that’s my good fucking girl,” Jungkook praises nonsensically. “Mouth was fucking made for me.”

When you moan around him in agreement, your spit meets his balls below and you use it as an excuse to play with them in your free hand. Jungkook’s jaw clenches and the hand holding yours harshly squishes your digits together. You change gears upon the realization of how worked up the action makes him, sucking one of his balls into your mouth and replacing your tight throat with your hand.

“Oh, Jesus, Bams,” he shouts as you suckle the sensitive skin. 

After languidly curling your tongue around him for a moment, you switch and repeat the treatment for the other one, mirroring the pace of your hand to match the way your tongue works his sack. Returning to the main event, you flatten your tongue along the underside of his shaft until reaching the tip and spitting on him so you can bring him between your lips again.

Unfortunately, you’re only able to take him into your warm throat a few more times before he’s pulling you away by your hair.

You pout and place your hands on your hips.

“Koo, I wanna swallow your cum.”

“Nuh uh, I’m gonna put another fucking baby in you,” he states, his eyes completely overtaken by lust.

Jungkook manhandles you like a ragdoll until you’re face down ass up on the couch with him situated behind you. His hands grab the bottom hem of your dress and flip it upwards to reveal your underwear, which you only realize he rips off of you when you hear the sound of the fabric tearing.

“Koo!”

“Don’t complain when you know I can buy you a thousand more.” His fingers immediately find your pussy to check if you’re wet enough, and when you hear the pleased chuckle from behind you, you know he’s got his answer. “You got this wet just from sucking me off, baby?” 

You nod your head and Jungkook smacks your ass hard enough to leave a mark. 

“Yes!” Jungkook hums in satisfaction and you whine when he soothes the burn with his palm. “Jungkook, baby, please fuck me.”

You compliment your begging by wiggling your ass, and Jungkook moans appreciatively at the sight, his fingers grasping your flesh possessively. He slowly runs his dick along your sopping wet folds and you automatically keen and whimper for more. His movements continue that way for a tauntingly long amount of time, teasing you with just enough to keep you from going crazy. The only relief you’re given is when his tip brushes against your sensitive nub and provides you with delicious friction. 

An angrier version of your prior instruction is about to leave your mouth when Jungkook brutally spears you on his cock. In one single stroke he’s entirely sheathed within your walls and you scream out in ecstasy while your head falls forward. His pace can only be described as goddamn insane, or maybe those are just the only words you can think of when the huge dick ramming into your pussy is making your brain blank.

From behind Jungkook’s tip kisses your cervix with every thrust and you moan without restraint as he monstrously fucks your cunt open. His hand returns to your hair, the other one clutching the back of the couch so he can keep a steady rhythm. You feel his wet balls slapping your clit with every stroke and it makes you bite down on the skin of your hand. 

“Gonna fucking ruin you, Bams,” he warns. “I don’t want you to be able to walk tomorrow, you got that?”

“Fuck, yes,” you agree without a second thought. 

You can stay in bed all day for all you care, all you want is for Jungkook to keep stretching you apart and making you his. You don’t want your pussy to remember any other shape but his cock, want your flesh to memorize every ridge and vein so it knows exactly who’s coming home when he enters you. 

Jungkook was already close when he started fucking you, so he’s doing everything he can for you to reach the same precipice. He repeatedly slams his hips into your ass as he yanks hard enough on your hair that he can almost see your eyes from his position. His hand wraps around your throat, pressing down on your jugular until his fingers leave blotchy, red marks. A second later, he’s forcing you upright until your back meets his chest and he traps you there by looping his other arm beneath your tits. 

The new angle makes you whine pathetically as he buries his dick so deep you feel him in your throat. 

“Baby, holy shit.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook licks the sweat off your neck. “Whose pussy is this, baby?”

“Yours,” you moan weakly.

You would be more than willing to scream from the rooftops just how much your body belongs to him, but you can’t exactly speak very loud when you’re choking on the euphoria he’s providing you.

Coincidentally, your volume isn’t good enough for Jungkook.

“Louder,” he growls right into your ear.

“It’s yours, Jungkook!”

“That’s fucking right.”

His hand leaves your neck after gently constricting your airway to massage your clit instead, pushing two of his fingers into your mouth to lubricate them first. He circles and presses down hard on the nub to make you keen and throw your head back against his shoulder. He utterly devours your neck from behind, his spit coating your skin in a pretty sheen as he moves from one spot to the next. 

You feel his hand disappear from your pussy and whine disapprovingly, but then his middle fingers are sliding into your mouth again so you can suck your juices off his digits. Erotically licking around and between his fingers, you hollow your cheeks and suck so he can feel your tight throat again. 

He groans and bites on your earlobe.

“So good for me, Bambi,” he whispers darkly. “You’re fucking perfect, baby.” 

He removes his fingers from your mouth and they return to your cunt, rubbing your clit in fast circles to get you to where you need to be.

“I’m — fuck. I’m close, Koo.”

“Atta girl. Come on this fat cock,” he commands. 

Jungkook releases you and pushes you down by your shoulder blades, forcing your cheek into the cushions as you arch and match his cadence by thrusting your hips backwards. You scream into the fabric when he speeds up and abuses your hole at a demonic pace. 

The clapping is obscene and deafening, and you’re fairly certain you hear his pans rattling in the kitchen from where they hang down. 

Your climax builds to an impossible level before crashing over you like a tsunami wave of pure pleasure. There’s a combination of drool and tears left behind on the couch cushions. The room goes white when your vision blanks, your legs twitching along with your pussy as the orgasm tears through you and you helplessly sob Jungkook’s name.

The feeling of Jungkook’s seed filling your cunt makes you cry his name repeatedly like a prayer, the sensation of it dripping down your thighs heavenly enough to make your eyesight blur.

Jungkook pants irregularly for a while before pulling out and resting on your back, the two of you toppling down and lying flat against the couch as your bodies return to normalcy. 

“Goddamn, Bambi,” Jungkook huffs. 

“Me?” 

Jungkook just laughs breathlessly, kissing your cheek through the curtain of your hair. 

You remain as deadweight together on the couch until you finally feel whole enough to return to earth, and once you do, you walk hand-in-hand to Jungkook’s bedroom to catch a good night’s sleep.

A couple days later, after you can indeed walk properly again, you’re completing miscellaneous chores around the house while Jungkook finishes securing the furniture in the nursery.

It’s already been an outrageously long day, especially with the weight of your unborn child applying a disastrous amount of pressure on your lower back. Your little one’s recent growth spurt makes it nearly impossible to stand for longer than thirty minutes without reprieve. When Jungkook comes downstairs and notices you rubbing your lower back with one hand while white-knuckling the counter with the other, he rushes to you and replaces your hand with his own to massage your spine.

“Oh, thank you,” you sigh in relief. 

“I got you, babygirl,” he says with a kiss to your shoulder. A moment later he seemingly remembers something, an adorable noise of realization coming from beside you. “Wait, I saw something on the internet I wanted to try.”

“Jungkook, no.”

“No, wait, Bams, it’s supposed to help!”

You eye him dangerously over your shoulder, alerting him without a word that if this is a prank he’ll be in for a rude awakening. 

He ignores your warning glance and uses his hands to stand you upright. You feel his arms circling you to hold beneath your baby bump and you’re ready to ask what he’s doing when suddenly the weight of your womb and the pressure on your back disappears. 

Looking down, you see Jungkook holding your stomach up for you, relieving the ache and allowing you to breathe freely. 

“Oh, wow, that’s really nice,” you mumble as your head falls to his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll do it as long as you like, Bams,” he tells you honestly. 

He does exactly that, holding the weight of your unborn child on your behalf for about ten minutes while you relish in the feeling of being weightless for a while. The act eventually joins his foot rubs and serenades as a part of your regular routine.

You’re lounging on the couch reading another parenting book while Jungkook plays a video game with your feet in his lap. It’s actually a test run for the game he’s been designing, and Jimin was absolutely right about him giving your character huge boobs. They’re tasteful, though, and you don’t mind because she’s a total badass. 

The game is currently distracting you from your book when you feel a strange sensation in your belly. You jump a little, looking down at your baby bump which is on display since you’re only wearing a bralette. The sensation happens again, and now that you’re watching intently, you see something move beneath your skin. 

Gasping in excitement, you begin hitting Jungkook with your book to grab his attention.

“Koo! Koo! The baby is kicking,” you shout even though he’s inches away from you.

His reaction is instantaneous, pausing the game and tossing the controller unceremoniously on the couch. Your hand traverses your belly so you can feel the next kick, and when you do, it makes you squeal and giggle in amazement. 

“Here, give me your hand,” you say and he stretches his arm towards you in response.

Placing his hand where you felt the movement, you wait and watch his face instead of your belly, wanting to see his reaction when he feels his baby move for the first time. The sensation comes, and you see Jungkook’s brow crease before his whole face lights up, his big brown eyes sparkling brighter than any star in the galaxy. 

“That’s… that’s our little one?” He asks in awe. You nod repeatedly and he smiles so big it takes up his entire face. “Hi, baby,” he coos in adoration, bending down to kiss all over your stomach. 

They kick again while he’s smooching you and he yelps in surprise at the feeling. 

You’re both blushing and giggling like schoolgirls with a crush, already so completely spellbound by your child. 

Jungkook carefully crawls over you to kiss you, but it’s all teeth and tongue because you can’t stop smiling even while trying to lock lips. You whimper in pain after a moment and Jungkook pulls back to check on you, his hand rising to caress your cheek.

“Seems our baby found my spine to kick instead,” you groan. 

Jungkook frowns and runs his thumb along your cheekbone.

“I guess wanting them to grow up to be a soccer player isn’t such a good thing after all,” he notes. Then, a thought occurs to him and his eyes light up again while he giggles to himself. “Hey, guess what?”

“Hmm?”

“Bambi.” He points to you. “And Thumper.” He points to your bump.

An endeared giggle completely overtakes your body, the back of your head hitting the arm of the couch while you rapidly kick your feet. 

“That’s so cute, Koo!” You hold his face in your hands. “Our family Halloween costumes are gonna be freaking adorable!” 

Jungkook’s expression turns saccharine as his eyes trace over your features in wonderment, and his gaze makes you realize it’s the first time you’re referring to yourselves as a family. The notion is obvious, but hearing the word aloud causes both your hearts to leap into your throat. You share in an adoring chuckle again, your foreheads meeting as you serenely close your eyes.

EIGHT

Jungkook blares “It’s the Final Countdown” from his Bluetooth speaker as he enthusiastically skips around the living room, both Bam and Usagi trailing after him in wonder. You’re too busy laughing from your place on the couch to join them. 

Today is exactly one month from your due date, and you’re prepared for this to be the single longest month of your life. The last eight have felt more like eight years, but you’re so close to the promised land, and you can hardly wait to bring your little one home. If you’re lucky, the baby may even come a little early and save you some heartache. 

And the heartache is literal, since one of the latest symptoms to add itself to the disastrous mix is intense heartburn. Couple that with the incessant kicking your child’s been getting up to lately, and your entire torso feels like it’s under siege. 

Jungkook does everything he can to help, such as constantly passing you Tums and playfully scolding your baby to stop kicking so much. He even went so far as to lace up his boxing gloves and have a sparring match with your baby bump. The extreme laughter born from his antics ended up hurting your stomach more than the kicking. 

The chemistry between you has been steadily increasing for some time, the line between friends and lovers practically blurring into obscurity, but you both welcome the feeling with open arms. 

You don’t find it necessary to broach the topic. You and Jungkook have never needed words to communicate, always knowing precisely what the other is thinking with a single glance, and it’s no different in this scenario.

Every time your eyes meet you know he feels the same; you’re no longer just best friends, and that’s alright.

About a week later you’re in the nursery together working on some finishing touches to the decor. Jungkook is hanging the mobile above the crib while you place the astronomical amount of clothes you received from your surprise baby shower in the closet. The nursery is positively jam packed from all the gifts people gave you last month, every corner of the room bursting with clothes, books, toys, and accessories. Even though the ample amount of supplies is overwhelming, knowing your little one is already so loved makes you abundantly happy. 

Chaewon even crocheted the perfect gender neutral blanket, despite her original complaints about the gender being unknown. 

Since the gender is a surprise, you and Jungkook haven’t discussed baby names all that much. Some general ideas have been thrown around, including family names and a sarcastic suggestion of “JJ” for Jungkook Jr. But you both share in the, perhaps naive, belief that as soon as you see them you’ll somehow know exactly what their name should be. 

Jungkook’s work phone rings, and you briefly glance over your shoulder to see him exiting the room as he answers the call. Usagi happily trots inside with the door wide open and curls up in the little reading nook. You give her some well deserved head pats while she purrs in content before continuing with your assigned task. Once all the clothes are either hung up or housed in the proper drawers, you leave the room to check on Jungkook.

When you find him after descending the stairs, he’s standing at the kitchen island drinking a glass of water which he slams down once it’s empty. Your eyebrows quirk up at the harsh motion, wondering what the call could’ve been about to elicit such a reaction.

“Koo, is everything alright?”

Jungkook shakes his head and rests his elbows on the counter so he can cradle his head in his hands.

“They need me to go to Japan for a meeting with some execs,” he tells you. 

“For how long?”

“Three days minimum, but it could be up to a week.”

“A week? Jungkook, I’m more than eight months pregnant.”

“Yeah, I know, Bambi, I told them that!” He explains in exasperation. “Fuck, this sucks so bad.”

You take a deep breath so at least one of you remains calm. Once you’re beside him, you attempt to massage the tension away from his back and shoulders.

“It’ll be okay. Japan is only a short airplane ride away. Worst comes to worst, you fly back if I go into labor,” you state.

“It’s not just if you go into labor, Bams. This is our last month before the baby is born. We’ve still got a ton to do!”

“The nursery is almost done, and either of our parents or friends can come over to help me clean and baby proof the house.” You tug on his shoulder so he turns around before cupping his face in your hands. “It’ll be fine, baby, I promise.”

Jungkook sighs before nuzzling his head against your hand, pursing his lips to press a couple chaste kisses to your palm. Afterwards he removes your hands from his face altogether to hold them between his own.

“I just don’t want to be away from you, baby,” he admits. “Not now and especially not for that long.”

Your cheeks grow warm in response to his words and you attempt to pacify his melancholy by giving him a tender kiss on the lips.

“I don’t want to be away from you, either, but I’m sure it will go by in the blink of an eye,” you reassure him. 

He aggressively pouts, practically giving himself duck lips, despite knowing it’s the truth. He brings you to his chest for a hug and you snuggle deeper into the embrace, allowing his familiar, comforting scent to encompass you.

You still have the weekend together before Jungkook flies out early Monday morning. You spend the majority of the time cuddling on the couch watching your favorite movies and playing with your fur babies as Bam chases a bone and Usagi hunts for the laser pointer. It’s heartwarmingly domestic and you hope it’ll always be this way, especially once your baby arrives.

Whenever you’re lounging around, Jungkook always lies as close as possible to your belly and it warms your heart to watch his fingers trace little hearts and smiley faces across your skin. 

Even after eight months he still upholds the tradition of coming downstairs first thing in the morning and caressing your baby bump while whispering “hi, my little papaya.” The only difference now is the adorable behavior is immediately followed by him pecking your lips and whispering “hi, my baby” to you.

You’re fully aware that when Monday rolls around you’re going to be a total basket case. The two of you haven’t been apart for more than a day since you got pregnant, and the thought of going a whole week without him when you’re this close to the finish line is borderline unbearable. 

Especially because your third trimester hormones have turned you into a raving lunatic as of late. Crocodile tears form in your eyes over nearly everything and your temper flips on a dime, which you always profusely apologize to Jungkook for whenever he’s on the receiving end. Two weeks ago, you found a dead spider on the ground and started weeping hysterically, so it’s safe to say the time away from Jungkook is going to leave you a complete mess. 

When you do say goodbye, you make a valiant effort at staying strong, but then Jungkook kisses you reverently, both his hands cupping your cheeks as he pours every once of his devotion into your mouth and you shatter into a million pieces. Your tears get trapped between your faces as your lips mold together, but Jungkook diligently wipes them away when he parts from you. 

His forehead presses to yours when he whispers that he loves you and he’ll be back soon before departing with a final grace of his lips to your brow. 

You wail Disney Princess style on his bed as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s downright pathetic, but you don’t care because Usagi is the sole witness to your display. The sheets smell like him and it only serves to make matters worse. It’s only been five minutes and you feel like you miss him down to your very bones already.

Even though he’s far away, you still sleep in his bed rather than your own. You haven’t slept in the guest bedroom originally meant for you in well over two months, and it feels wrong to stay there just because he’s gone. 

Jungkook remains in constant contact with you, which helps ease the heartache of being apart. He messages you at every milestone, from the moment he arrives at the airport, to when his plane lands, and then again when he reaches the hotel. He sends photos and selfies, too, which fills you with exuberant warmth while simultaneously bringing on more tears.

You wallow in self-pity the whole first day, eating an entire tub of ice cream while you watch cheesy romantic comedies. Various friends and family come over the following day to help around the house, which you genuinely appreciate more than words can describe because there is still so much to do. On the third morning without Jungkook, your moms visit and the three of you chat over sparkling grape juice about anything and everything to expect.

They explain all the intimate details of the birthing process they can remember, such as what contractions and labor feel like, and how the brief hospital stay will go prior to bringing the baby home. Your mom goes into grave detail about how awful you’ll feel afterwards and Jungkook’s mom adds more pack to the punch by mentioning how difficult caring for a newborn is while healing from the delivery. 

They assure you everything will be fine, though, and that they’ll be here everyday if you need them. The three of you also agree you truly have nothing to worry about when you have someone as wonderful as Jungkook to care for you.

“Why did you guys want to be pregnant at the same time so badly anyway?” You ask them out of pure curiosity. 

“Well, truth be told, and don’t tell Kookie this, but we were actually hoping you would both be girls so we could have this adorable, little, four way mother-daughter relationship,” Jungkook’s mom tells you. 

You chuckle at her admission and your mind begins to wonder just how different your life would be if that had been the case.

“Honestly, though, this outcome is so much better!” Your mom exclaims. “Now we get to be grandparents together.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t part of the plan,” you state.

“Not at first, no,” Jungkook’s mom says. “But I think we knew as you guys got older, especially after college, that it was only a matter of time.”

“You know, you guys aren’t the only people to say that and I genuinely don’t get it,” you say. “I’m head over heels for him now, no doubt about it, but before, I truly didn’t see him that way. I mean, we grew up together, we were closer than most brothers and sisters are for the majority of our lives.”

“I don’t think it’s about how you felt at the time,” your mom explains. “I think it’s the way you interact, how much you care about one another. There’s one else who could ever give you the love you deserve more than each other.”

As you process her comment, the cogwheels in your mind synthesize and you finally understand what everyone’s been telling you all this time. What Nayeon said about your feelings for him being more than those of a relationship and Chaewon telling you not to overthink things. No one’s presented the notion to you this way before, and something about your mother’s words causes everything to click into place. 

You’re together now because it’s as easy as breathing, and whether you initially had romantic feelings for each other or not, no one can compare.

On day four you’re alone again and you go genuinely stir crazy. Poor Bam has to take the brunt of your brief mental insanity as you cry into his fur and lay across him in a desperate attempt to gain some sort of warmth and comfort. 

Although, you don’t need his services for long, because Jungkook calls like he has every night, but this time he has good news.

“Guess who’s coming home early tomorrow?”

“Really?” You shout into the receiver, your hands still covered in chip dust from eating your feelings. 

“Yup, first flight out of here tomorrow morning,” he tells you.

“Ah! Koo, I’m so excited!”

“Me, too, baby,” he says. “I miss you like crazy, been thinking about you 24/7.”

“Me, too,” you respond. “I think our little one misses you, too. They’ve been restless ever since you left.”

“Have you been playing the mixtape for them?”

“Yes, but it isn’t the same, and I honestly think they’ve gotten picky about it. Live vocals are just so much better, you know?”

Jungkook chuckles and even through the phone you can tell he’s smiling. 

“I’ll make sure to serenade them immediately upon my return,” he states.

“Nuh uh!” You pout even though he can’t see you. “I take priority here, mister.”

“Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry, Bams,” he laughs. “You’ll always be my number one.”

The two of you continue to talk about your respective days for a while. Jungkook explains all the cool gaming stuff he’s gotten to see while at the headquarters in Japan and you parry with your accomplishment of watching all five Twilight movies in a single day. You reluctantly hang up after a couple hours with a quick “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Tomorrow ends up being a complete disaster. 

There’s extreme thunderstorms throughout the entire region, so as soon as you wake up, you see a text from Jungkook informing you his flight’s been delayed by about two hours. It’s no biggie at first, knowing these things happen and it shouldn’t keep him from you for that much longer. But one delay turns to two, which becomes three, and after eight delays, his flight is finally moved to an entirely different airline and won’t be arriving until the following day at approximately three in the morning. 

He tells you not to wait up for him and get your sleep, but there’s no way in hell you’re waiting even another second to see him. 

Even once he lands, it’s still down pouring and the taxi takes another thirty minutes to reach him. He gives you periodic updates, including some heartbreaking selfies of him pouting by the luggage carousel, but despite being able see his handsome face through the phone, it’s all so frustrating you could rip your hair right out of your head. 

By the time his location icon starts moving towards the house, you’ve been pacing the floor like a mad woman for close to an hour. 

Your incessant pacing screeches to a halt when you hear the sound of his footsteps bounding up the stairs and the key turning in the lock. You scurry across the floor as fast as your swollen, pregnant feet will carry you, waiting just behind the door for the reveal of your favorite sight in the world. Although, when the door swings open, you don’t get the chance to admire him before your face is squished against his. 

The very moment Jungkook sees you, he takes your face in his hands and smashes his lips on yours as though he’ll die if he doesn’t. His hungry mouth silences your noise of surprise, coaxing your mouth open and allowing his tongue to invade the space as he kisses you until you can’t see straight. Muscle memory makes it all too easy for him to guide you away from the door and into the wall. You moan when your back meets the hard surface and Jungkook groans in satisfaction at the sound, using his hips to trap you between him and the drywall. 

The warm hands on your skin, taut body flush to yours, and delicious mouth utterly devouring you completely shuts down your senses until all you can see, hear, smell, taste, and feel are him. 

Hands reaching up to grab the collar of his shirt, you tug him impossibly close, even though your bodies are already touching in every place possible. He’s kissing you like he never has before and somehow you still want more. Your hands release the fabric to traverse the planes of his chest and hold his shoulders, eventually moving upwards to caress his neck and jaw. 

He’s completely soaked from the rain, his hair dripping cold water droplets onto your skin and his soiled clothes transferring the liquid onto your own, but there isn’t a single piece of you that minds. He can drench you in acid for all you care, as long as he stays this close and keeps kissing you like this. 

Jungkook pulls a centimeter away, his lips still brushing yours as he breathes erratically as though he ran all the way from the airport. 

“I’m so in love with you,” he pants. “I’m fucking crazy about you, Bambi.” He shakes his head in disbelief of his confidence to finally confess. “I was going to wait to tell you until after the baby’s born, but being away from you was fucking torture and I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

“Hold it in? How long have you felt this way?” 

Your eyes stare into his with wonder.

“Since we thought we were gonna lose the baby,” he tells you. “I was driving you to the doctor’s office and it felt like the whole world was crashing down around me, but then I realized that’s okay. That if that happened, it wouldn’t matter. The zombie apocalypse could destroy all of humanity, the tectonic plates could shift and send entire continents into the sea, and it wouldn’t matter as long as I have you.” He inhales while gently shaking his head and spraying you with rainwater. “And that’s not new, I’ve always felt that way about you. I’ve always known I want you by my side for the rest of my life, but it made me realize I don’t want anyone else by my side. I only want you, baby.”

“Jungkook, you kept that from me for two months?” You ask incredulously.

“We have a lot going on at the moment, Bams,” he explains.

“Sure, but the stuff we have going on is stressful. Your feelings for me aren’t stressful.”

Jungkook’s eyes burn with intensity as he analyzes the meaning of your words. 

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why aren’t they stressful, Bambi?”

“Because.” You shrug like what you’re about to say is the most obvious truth of the universe. “Well, because I’m in love with y — mmpf.”

Jungkook ceases the remainder of your confession with a divine kiss. Your mouths move in perfect harmony and you swear you see the sun peaking through the rain clouds outside. It doesn’t seem possible, but you can feel every ounce of Jungkook’s love for you on his tongue as it traces your lips and tangles with your own.

“Say it again,” he requests. “Please.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Again, don’t stop.”

“I love you.” Kiss. “I’m so, stupidly, madly.” Kiss. “Crazy in love with you, Jungkook.” Kiss. “I love you so much.” Kiss. “I love you more than anything.” Kiss. “More than I’ll ever be able to describe.” Kiss. “Jungkook.” Kiss. “You’re my everything.” Kiss. “I love you, Koo.”

You aren’t able to chant your emotions anymore because Jungkook doesn’t give you time to breathe, let alone speak. 

His hands are still firmly cradling your face, both your lips refusing to part from one another for a single second. He tastes like honey and vanilla, most likely from the sweets you know he had on the plane. It’s addicting and hypnotizes you completely until all you can think about is him and all you can do is kiss him with all your might. 

Jungkook’s hands travel to the back of your head and tangle in your hair. He uses the leverage to tilt your head so he can kiss across your jaw and neck, biting down softly before sucking over the same spot and making you whimper helplessly for him. 

The attention on your neck only lasts momentarily before he’s releasing you to grab your ass instead, but you stop him by gripping his biceps.

“Baby, you can’t lift me right now, I’m too heavy,” you warn him.

Jungkook looks so offended he takes two full steps away from you, one of his eyebrows rising in disbelief as his jaw ticks. He even goes so far as to scoff while cracking his neck. Then, for the sole purpose of proving you wrong, he effortlessly lifts you into his arms and you have to scramble to latch onto him with your arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

“You wanna try that again, Bams?”

“No,” you grumble under your breath.

The sound of his proud chuckle meets your ears as he seamlessly carries up the stairs and into his bedroom. He tosses you unceremoniously onto the bed, your body bouncing when you land as you giggle in excitement. 

You wait for him to join you, reaching towards him with a pout when he isn’t instantly on top of you, but he only rests one knee on the edge of the mattress.

“Wait, since when have you known?”

“Honestly?” Jungkook nods rapidly. “I have no fucking clue. It’s just like my nickname. I have no idea when or where it happened. I just know all of the sudden you were the first thing on my mind when I woke up, and I got butterflies when we were together, and I wanted to hold your hand, cuddle you, and go on dates. It’s like I just woke up one day and realized I fell in love with you but have no way of tracing it to an exact origin.”

Jungkook smiles and shakes his head knowingly.

“That’s so you.”

“I know, I’m a freaking space cadet!”

“My space cadet,” Jungkook says, finally moving to hover above you. “Also, I know how you got your nickname.”

“Huh?” You frown deeply. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve always known, but I thought it was cute that none of you could remember,” he explains. “It felt like it was my own little secret.”

“Koo!”

Jungkook laughs while scrunching his nose in adoration, his arms shaking where they rest on either side of your head.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. We were watching the movie in my living room and you just wouldn’t stop crying after Bambi’s mom died, like full blown hysterical tears. So, to cheer you up I said ‘it’s okay, Bambi,’ and you smiled SO big and your eyes lit up like fireworks. I knew then it had to be your nickname.”

Your lip catches between your teeth as you will the sentimental tears not to fall. The notion of Jungkook knowing this whole time is both infuriating and also so heartwarming; that his nickname for you is so precious to him he didn’t dare share the secret of its beginning. 

“That’s so you,” you reply to his story.

He radiantly beams at you, his cheeks and ears turning bright pink from the blush spreading across them. You share in your affectionate laughter as he drops to his elbows so he can kiss you. 

“I love you so much, Bambi,” he whispers. “You’re everything to me, baby.”

The tears you successfully held back before make their debut, wetting both his and your cheeks as they roll away from your eyes. 

Even though you’ve known for a while now this confession was imminent, it’s still just as mesmerizing to hear the words from his lips and be able to say them in return.

The kiss begins with fluid, languid motions, your mouths dancing together for the millionth time, but then Jungkook raises the temperature of the room, greedily licking into your mouth and tugging on your lower lip with his teeth before letting it snap into place. The air fills with moans and whines as you make out, but you stop him with a hand to his chest when you feel him grinding against you.

“Wait, Koo, sex can induce labor,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he draws out the word. “So, we get it on and meet our little one a bit early, isn’t that a win-win situation?”

You chuckle and mentally berate yourself for believing his answer would be anything besides that. Rolling your eyes with an affectionate smile, you briefly peck his lips before smacking his ass.

“Deal, but I’m getting on top.”

Jungkook certainly isn’t going to object to you riding his dick. 

He holds you by the waist and rolls you both over, helping you settle in his lap and caressing your outline as his eyes memorize the vision of you above him. His fingers grip the bottom of your shirt to pull it over your head and then he does the same for his own. 

You don’t let him continue undressing, too mesmerized by his chiseled torso to allow the sight to be hindered. He’s been working out more these last few months as a way to unwind from the stress of preparing for fatherhood, and it’s definitely paid off. You’ve always known how blessed you are to have him, but moments like this remind you just how blessed you truly are.

His neck is your initial target while your hands run along his abs, sinking your nails into the hard lines and creating red marks across his pretty muscles. Jungkook whines at the feeling, his hand reactively grabbing the back of your head as you mark his neck with pretty, wet blotches. 

“Please don’t tease me, baby,” he says. “I need you so fucking bad.”

“You’re the one who left me alone for five days,” you reply in between kisses to his jugular. “I’ll take however long I want.”

Taking your time traversing his shoulder and collarbones, you trace over every muscle and bone with your lips, soaking his skin as your tongue drags across the area. His hand keeps a firm grip on your head, slightly guiding your movements, but still allowing you to savor his upper body despite his request. You bite into his pecs and circle his nipple with your tongue, making his hips bucks beneath you as he groans. 

You giggle like the brat you are at his neediness, already feeling his cock stiffening where your core rests against his crotch.

It honestly takes an exuberant amount of effort to stop painting his torso in kisses, reluctantly pulling away after licking across the entire expanse of his stomach down to his hips and placing a single smooch on all eight of his abdominal muscles. 

Jungkook forces your lips to meet his when you’re done, kissing you like he’s starving for you as he removes both your bottoms in quick succession.

He can feel just how wet you are as soon as your bare cunt meets his length, your essence already leaking all over him without him having to do any work. It brings a smile to his face as you kiss, the feeling of pride turning his chest red with blush because of his effect on you. 

“Missed you so fucking much, babygirl.”

The words have barely left Jungkook’s lips when he grabs your hips to position you over his cock. His fingers wrap around his shaft so you have a perfect target to sink onto, and the familiar feeling of him stretching you open as you sit on his thighs makes your head lull while you breathlessly moan.

“Oh fuck, baby,” you mewl. “I missed you so bad.”

Jungkook is pulling your face to his so he can kiss you before you even start bouncing on him, his other hand grabbing your ass and squeezing your flesh possessively. The kiss is quick, because soon after he’s turning your head and licking across the hot skin of your neck. His warm breath tickles your ear as he goes to speak. 

“This cock is all yours, Bams. So, be good and ride it for me, yeah?” 

You’d do anything he asks, and his words light up the competitive streak in you to give him the best fuck of his life. 

The temptress within you gets the better of you, and you decide to fully unsheath him from the walls of your pussy while grabbing his cock with your hand to keep him in place. He groans indignantly when your warmth leaves him, and you wait a few torturous moments before slowly letting him enter you again one inch at a time. 

Jungkook spanks you in retaliation, but you just chuckle and scratch at his pecs with your nails.  

Continuing the slow glide, you watch as Jungkook’s cock leaves your cunt covered in your juices until it disappears from view when your walls suck him in again. The erotic visual makes your body burn with wanton need. His thick cock repeatedly spearing you is truly a sight to behold and it feels even better than it looks. 

“Fuck, Bambi, don’t fucking do this to me.”

“Do what?” 

The faux innocent gaze your eyes possess makes Jungkook’s jaw clench. 

“I will demolish this fucking pussy. Don’t mess with me, baby,” he threatens. 

“I’d like to see you tr –” 

Jungkook cuts your air supply off completely with a single deadly thrust upwards, your sentence ending with a screech instead of the syllable it was supposed to. 

You aren’t able to replenish your oxygen because Jungkook’s hand is suddenly around your throat, pressing down on the sides to choke you without actually hurting you. His other hand bruisingly holds your hip so he can keep you exactly where he wants you. Your inner thighs meet his pelvis when he plants his feet against the mattress, giving him all the leverage he needs to fuck you dumb. 

“There we go, much better,” he grunts as he abuses your hole. 

“Koo, oh my God.” 

You’re grasping for purchase on his chest to keep yourself upright, eventually gripping his shoulders to prevent falling right over. The combination of his hand around your throat and his cock hitting just the right spot inside you has your mind going numb and your mouth dropping open. 

Jungkook’s completely focused on his singular goal of fucking you right, his brow creasing as his eyes sharpen with determination. He looks no less than ethereal below you, the sweat on his skin making him shimmer like the Greek god you’re positive he descends from. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking handsome, Jungkook. It’s unreal.”

He blushes at your compliment even as his hips work endlessly to force his dick deep into your pussy. 

“That means a lot coming from someone as beautiful as you,” he says with honey coating his tone.

Unlike him, you’re unable to blush or even react, the speed and force of his strokes is plummeting your body into an ocean of euphoria and all you can do is drown. The sex is borderline demonic, and yet it feels like heaven coursing through your veins. 

It’s a genuine mystery of the universe how someone as kind and gentle as Jungkook can be such a goddamn animal in bed. 

If it wasn’t for your pregnant belly, you’re certain Jungkook’s cock would be making an appearance in your abdomen. His lower body is working overtime to send his thick length as far as possible into you and the sensation turns your mind to goo. You would love nothing more than to focus on the feeling of his muscles beneath your fingers, or the way his thighs smash into yours with every thrust, but you’re in a subspace of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Bams, you look so sexy,” he tells you, his voice dripping with desire. “Pussy filled with me, belly swollen with my child, your perfect tits full of milk. You’re fucking gorgeous, babygirl.”

As if to prove his point, he sits up to tug one of your nipples between his teeth. You gasp at the abrasion against your already sensitive skin, but the sound melts into a moan when he takes it into his mouth and sucks on the pebbled skin.

He plays with your nipple until it’s sore, flicking it with his tongue and then slowly circling it until you’re whining and gripping his hair like a lifeline. Wet kisses are placed all over your breast, slathering you in drool and red blotches where he chose to suck on your flesh. You think the debilitating treatment is over until he switches sides, making you cry with pleasure. 

There’s a pop when he releases your nub from his mouth to kiss along your sternum instead.

“You feel fucking amazing, baby. So big, make me feel so full,” you moan.

Jungkook hums proudly as his tongue leaves his mouth to the lick your collarbone.  

“I don’t know how I’ll survive six weeks without fucking this perfect, little cunt.”

His hand tightens around your throat again and you whimper, rolling your hips downward along with his movements to create friction on your clit.

“At least you’ll be able to jack off,” you retort.

“Mm, that can’t even hold a candle to you, baby,” he kisses across your shoulder, inch by inch until he reaches your neck. “I would know, it’s all I fucking did the last five days.” 

Jungkook’s hand leaves your throat with a final squeeze to join his other one at your hips, bringing you down against him with more ferocity as the sound of skin slapping together fills the room. 

“I’ve got you addicted, don’t I?”

“Fuck, you have no idea, Bambi.”

You continue fucking yourself on him to the best of your ability even with his brutal pace, feeling infinitely needier as your orgasm steadily approaches. 

Jungkook is reeking havoc on your neck, coating you in his saliva as he licks across your sweat soaked skin and kisses your most sensitive spots. He nibbles on your earlobe and it makes you keen and whimper unabashedly. 

Honestly, you don’t know how you’ll survive the six weeks either. The two of you have done nothing but fuck since a few weeks after you moved in, and the forced celibacy may very well send you spiraling into insanity. You’re addicted to him, too, and you already know you’ll be begging for his dick for the remainder of your days.

Craving more of you, Jungkook holds you firm against his chest and slams back into the mattress, readjusting his feet and the angle of his hips so he can terrorize your g-spot with the tip of his cock. 

“Oh, holy shit.”

You bite down on his shoulder as tears prick your eyes.

He growls amorously in his throat, his hips taking on a mind of their own as they work effortlessly to send you both crashing into an orgasm. 

Part of you feels bad for requesting to be on top only to allow him to take control, but the guilt washes away like sand when you feel your climax pressing against your insides like a tsunami just offshore. 

“Come on my cock, baby, wanna feel how tight you squeeze me,” Jungkook orders. 

You can’t answer him, the only noises escaping your body being nonsensical moans and cries of his name. But your body certainly responds, your pussy clenching around his cock like a vice before your legs lock and twitch when your release comes.

The pulsing of your cunt triggers Jungkook’s release, and your cries of pleasure harmonize as you come together. 

“Shit, Koo,” you curse as he continues sending his cock into you, creating an ache of oversensitivity between your legs. “Baby.” 

You stall his movements with a hand to his chest as your pussy convulses around him with the aftershocks of your orgasm. There’s a soreness in your thighs when you lift yourself from his lap and fall beside him on the bed. 

Jungkook’s softening cock is covered in white from both of your juices, and if you weren’t entirely spent and borderline delirious, you’d lick it clean for him. 

He caresses your face as your eyes close, moving your hair out the way so he can kiss your cheek, nose, temple, and forehead. You hum happily, pursing your lips as a wordless demand for him to kiss them as well.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook,” you whisper into the air.

The sound of his bright laugh makes you smile.

“I love you more,” he responds before finally giving you a tender kiss.

“Oh, please don’t make me fight you right now. I’m in no shape to do so,” you state.

Jungkook giggles and pecks your lips a couple more times in rapid succession.

Once your heavy breathing slows and your bodies cool, you roll into Jungkook’s side and he naturally pulls you into his embrace. 

It’s nearing sunrise and if you’re this exhausted, you can’t even begin to comprehend how tired Jungkook must be.

He wishes you goodnight where his lips rest on your forehead and you return the gesture by smooching his chest a couple times. The two of you sleep peacefully for the first time in days, the feeling of home completely encompassing you as you’re whisked away to dreamland. 

NINE

Despite the many warnings about the possibility of sex inducing labor, you’re three days from your due date and Jungkook fucking you sensless multiple times a day has yet to make your baby arrive any sooner. 

The two of you are in the honeymoon phase straight out of finally confessing your love for each other, and you having a massive baby bump and a few extra pounds on you doesn’t stop you in the slightest from celebrating your new relationship status. Jungkook can’t keep his hands to himself even when you’re in the middle of important tasks readying the house for your little pumpkin 

Honestly, you think it’s partially to distract himself from the imminent arrival of your child. He never says it aloud because he doesn’t want to worry you, but you know him better than anyone and can tell he’s anxious. 

It’s one thing to spend nine months positively itching to hold your baby in your arms, but it’s another to actually parent said child. 

Even with his nerves, he’s been the picture perfect partner throughout these final weeks and you’re nothing short of absolutely certain he’ll be the most amazing father in the world. Even if he fails at things or messes up every now and then, the immense love he already holds for your baby is more than you could ever ask for from a partner.

Right now he’s screwing the final dresser into the wall of his bedroom so it’s baby-proof. He’s never been much of a handyman, but you suppose the fatherhood gene has fully fermented in his blood and now he can handle a drill like a pro. You’ll have to ask him about changing tires next, and his sneezes will probably get louder as soon as the baby is born.

You’re moseying around the kitchen as you clean up following dinner. Jungkook keeps telling you to stay still and relax, but you’re way too antsy to do that.  

Every minute feels like an hour while you wait for your little one to arrive. Not only because you’re so eager to meet them, but because you’re terrified of labor and delivery and want it over with as soon as possible. It’s a fear of the unknown, and you know you’ll feel better once you understand how bad the contractions will be. 

Being pregnant comes with many lovely perks, one of which includes peeing every time you cough or even flinch the wrong way. 

That’s why, when you feel a warm sensation down below, you don’t question it. Like always these past couple months, you merely roll your eyes and make a mental note to change your underwear when you’re done cleaning. 

It’s only once you step to your left and have to catch yourself on the counter to stop from slipping that you realize you’re standing in a pool of liquid. You certainly didn’t pee your pants, because although it’s been a couple decades since you last did, you remember the feeling quite well. When the realization of what actually occurred hits you, you’re screaming bloody murder for Jungkook upstairs.

“My water! Jungkook! My water just broke!” 

The sound of his two feet followed by four large paws running down the stairs is all you hear until he appears at the bottom of the stairwell looking like he’s seen a ghost.

His cheeks are bright red, his eyes bigger than you’ve ever seen them, and he’s huffing out air as though he just ran a marathon. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes, Koo, I’m standing in amniotic fluid as we speak!”

Jungkook shakes his head aggressively to get himself into action mode. 

“Alright, you get your shoes on, I’m gonna get the hospital bag. Wait, do you need to change first?”

“That would be nice, yeah,” you admit. 

He’s gone in a flash to head back upstairs and obtain your pre-packed bag with all the essentials and something for you to change into. 

When he returns only a split second later, Usagi is following close behind now that she’s aware something exciting is going on. He hands you a comfortable dress and panties to change into and you strip right there in the kitchen. His hand on your hip stalls you before you’re able to slip the clothes on, and you nearly start screaming at him that now is not the time, but then he grabs a towel and wipes away the fluid from your legs. 

You smile graciously and thank him for thinking ahead before sliding the dress over your head and scurrying to the door. 

Now that your water broke you can feel a mild cramping from the contractions. It’s a dull pitch in your back as well as what you can only compare to a period cramp. You must not be dilated very much yet because the pain is still fairly tolerable. 

Jungkook bends over to help you with your shoes before resting his hand on your lower back to guide you downstairs to the garage. Both your hands are caressing your swollen stomach, slightly bracing yourself because the cramping is coming in waves every few minutes. 

When you reach the car Jungkook opens the passenger door for you, but you turn on your heel and place your hands on his chest before sitting down. He looks at you inquisitively, his eyes conveying his hurriedness and confusion as to why you’re not rushing, too. 

“I just, we have time, and I want to take a minute before we go,” you tell him.

“For what, Bambi?”

You admire the pretty features you’ve known all your life with a smile and reach up to circle his neck with your arms. He laughs cheerfully and reflects your embrace by hugging your waist.

“This is the last time we’re gonna be here, just the two of us.” You nuzzle your face in his neck and let his scent calm you. “The last time it will just be you and me.”

“It’s always gonna be you and me, Bams,” he replies. “Always.”

He kisses your cheek, leaving his lips there for a lingering moment before you part. Once you do, he rests his hand on your jaw and kisses you gently. His lips are warm and familiar, and you kiss one another with a promise of wonderful new things on the horizon. 

Jungkook waits to ensure you’re comfortable in the passenger seat before running to the other side and taking off towards the nearby hospital. On the way, you call your doctor to let them and she assures you she’ll meet you there once the labor and delivery nurses triage you. 

When you arrive, you take a poignant deep breath, knowing that when you exit this place you’ll be a mom, and this is the last time in the outside world where you’ll just be you. It’s exhilarating, nerve wracking, and overwhelming all at once, but you’ve been preparing for this next chapter for nine months now, and you’re more than ready.

You and Jungkook have your hands tightly wound together as you enter the massive hospital, but he relinquishes his grip to grab you a wheelchair once you’re inside. He watches you carefully as you sit down, holding his hands out on either side of you as though you’re made of glass. When you nod at him assuredly that you’re all good, he rushes to the counter to inform the receptionist while you text all your important group chats about what’s going on. 

Your parents and friends are planning on coming to see you and the baby after delivery, and you can’t wait to formally introduce them to your little one. 

Jungkook returns along with a labor and delivery nurse who introduces herself before wheeling you down the hallway. When you reach two large double doors, she stops and turns to you and Jungkook, whose hand is comfortingly rubbing your shoulder.

“Alright, this is where we’ll be parting for a bit. Mom, you’re coming with me, and Dad, you have to get scrubbed up so you can join us,” she explains.

This step in the process is something your doctor explained previously, but it doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier, no matter how momentary the separation will be.

Looking towards Jungkook, you notice he’s just as anxious to be away from you, but he hides it well and bends to your height so he can kiss you briefly. 

“I’ll see you soon, okay, Bambi?”

There are tears in your eyes even though you’re nodding your head.

“Yeah, soon,” you whimper.

“It’s okay, baby, it won’t be for long,” he tells you as he caresses your cheek. You lean your head into his hand and close your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you parrot and kiss him one final time. 

He waves continuously as you’re pushed through the double doors by your nurse, and even though you know he’s upset, too, he’s sporting the cheesiest grin on his face to make you laugh.

Jungkook heaves out a sigh directly from his gut once you’re gone, his head falling back as he struggles to steady his jackrabbiting heart. Being apart right now feels like unadulterated torture, but he knows it’s only for a short while before you’ll be together again.

A different nurse comes to lead him to a sterile room just around the corner. The older woman explains the basics of scrubs and staying clean as well as what to do if he gets contaminated. He listens as dutifully as possible with all the other millions of thoughts running through his head and eventually the nurse helps him dress in the lovely, crinkly blue outfit, which includes shoe covers and a hair net. 

He looks utterly ridiculous, but truthfully, finally dawning his father-to-be attire makes him giddy.

When he exits, the nurse leads him down a seemingly infinite hallway to a delivery room where your doctor is waiting just outside the door. She smiles joyously when he appears in her vision and enthusiastically waves him down. 

“Hi, Doc,” he excitedly greets her.

“Hi, how are you feeling?” She asks him.

“I’m… nervous as hell,” he says truthfully. “I can’t stand seeing her in pain, so I don’t think I’m going to handle this very well.”

“A lot of dads feel that way about their partner,” she explains. “Just remember, all you can do is be there for her and she’ll get through it. She’s a tough cookie.”

“She is,” he nods with a smile.

“So, I wanted to talk to you before we go in. Y/N’s lost quite a lot of blood, and we’ve had to set her up with a continuous blood transfusion to ensure she’ll have enough for delivery. Now, let me just say, this is totally normal. We deal with this all the time and we’ve got everything under control.”

Jungkook’s heart drops into his stomach with a weighted plop, his entire body following suit as his shoulders sink and he nearly loses his balance.

“What – what – what do you mean, why is she losing blood?”

“It’s just something that happens sometimes, the baby is moving through her body and it can cause internal bleeding which drops her blood count,” she explains calmly.

“But… but she’s gonna be okay, right? I mean, Doc, that’s my entire world in there. I’m… I’m not even a person without her, I –”

“Jungkook, listen to me,” she interrupts his manic ramblings. “I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive. She’s going to be just fine. Her and the baby. You’re going to leave here with both of them tomorrow, alright?”

Jungkook attempts to calm his thoughts and take her words of expertise to heart, but he needs to see you for himself, hold you and feel your skin beneath his fingers so he knows without a shadow of a doubt that you’re alright.

“Okay. And you’ll… she takes priority, right? If something goes wrong –”

“Of course, she does.” She smiles reassuringly at him. “I won’t let anything happen to your Bambi, Jungkook.”

He nods his head as a sigh of relief leaves his lungs.

“Thank you, Doctor,” he says wholeheartedly.

“Of course. Let’s get you in there to see her, yeah? Fair warning, she’s a little loopy because of the blood loss, but it shouldn’t last too much longer now that she’s hooked up to a blood bag.”

She opens the door and gestures for Jungkook to enter before following closely behind.

When you see the light pouring in from the door opening, your eyes glisten with excitement as Jungkook appears in your field of vision. Even though you feel half alive, the sight of the man you love brings a huge toothy grin to your face. 

“Koo,” you call for him quietly, your hand weakly rising in his direction. He’s at your side instantly, taking your shaking hand and kissing the back of it before sitting in the chair beside your hospital bed. “You look so cute in your scrubs.”

“Yeah? Well, you look absolutely beautiful, baby,” he tells you as he delicately pushes your sweaty hair from your face. 

The contractions are coming in quick succession now and are significantly more powerful, but because of the blood loss you’ve only been given a mild pain reliever. It’s truthfully been horrible so far, especially when you nearly passed out from all the blood escaping your body. You don’t dare tell Jungkook about it, knowing precisely how he’ll react, but you already feel better with him next to you.

Pursing your lips in his general direction, you hear Jungkook chuckle as he leans in to kiss you deeply. Despite your current state, you still do your best to reciprocate the passion he pours into you, moving your lips in tandem while his free hand rises to cradle your jaw. Your foreheads meet once your lips reluctantly divide, but Jungkook uses his grip to lower your head so he can press his lips there a couple times instead.

“So, I take it you two aren’t just best friends anymore?” Your doctor is sitting between your legs with an eyebrow raised. You and Jungkook share a knowing chuckle before facing her and shaking your heads in unison. She smiles broadly in response. “Good, I’m glad.”

Just then, another contraction crashes over you and you groan while bending over in pain. Jungkook’s eyes go wide and misty in an instant, his hand clutching yours in support, which you return tenfold by brutally squishing his fingers together from the tightness of your grip. 

You feel his other hand combing through your hair as you attempt to push through the pain by counting your breaths. The pain coursing through your lower half is already borderline unbearable, and you pray they can give you the epidural soon.

“Breathe, baby,” Jungkook instructs, mimicking the Lamaze technique you learned all those months ago. 

The class was enjoyable enough, but the breathing exercises truly don’t do jack shit for the pain. Jungkook’s voice brings you more comfort than the repetitive intakes of air you were taught. As the pain begins to cease, you crash back into the bed with shaky breaths while Jungkook massages the shoulder closest to him. 

“Are you alright, Bams?” He asks, his eyes watching the monitor beside you so he can see your heart rate returning to baseline.

“Yeah, I am now,” you pant.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You caress his cheek with your free hand while putting on your bravest smile for him.

“No, my love, you just have to sit there and look pretty,” you instruct him. 

Jungkook blushes as he laughs.

You request he answer some of the hundreds of text messages currently blowing up your phone and causing it to nearly vibrate off the table. He does so without hesitation, sending mass text messages to your friends and family stating where to go when they arrive and updating them on how you're doing. There’s also a fair amount of selfies taken in between contractions, some for your loved ones and a couple of you two kissing for his own records. He wants to remember this forever, even if you both look questionable at best in your hospital attire. 

Everyone in your life knows about the relationship status upgrade, but he still wants to keep some moments sacred for just the two of you. 

When you told your moms, you genuinely thought they were going to pass out from sheer excitement. The two women cried hysterical happy tears and hugged one another for a minimum of five minutes before finally embracing the two of you in congratulations. 

The contractions continue for a couple hours, each wave of them getting closer and closer together until they’re almost neck and neck. After a particularly horrific one lasting about ten minutes, your doctor comes to speak to you.

“So, here’s the situation,” she starts. “You’re dilated to ten right now; the baby is ready to come out. The only problem is you still haven’t received enough blood for us to give you the epidural.” She sighs regretfully. “That gives us two options. You either do the birth naturally now or we give you a medicine that slows your labor down and we wait until we can give you the epidural. The biggest downside to that is the medicine can take upwards of ten hours to leave your system, so you’ll be feeling the contractions for that long.”

You were never planning on delivering naturally, and having to choose between the better of two evils is making your brain short circuit. All you want is to meet your baby, to hold, kiss, and love them, but there’s a barrier of brutality standing in your way. 

“Do you think I can do it naturally?” You ask her.

“Absolutely. I’ve seen thousands of women do it, but that doesn’t mean you have to. Everyone is different.”

Anxiously gnawing on your lip, you turn towards Jungkook, whose expression mirrors the fright on your own. His eyes are glossy with unsung emotion and it breaks your heart. You know how difficult it is for him to feel so powerless to help you, always proudly holding the title of your knight in shining armor all your life. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s not up to me, Bams,” he answers.

“I know, but I want your opinion.”

His jaw clenches and he shakes his head before speaking.

“I fucking hate seeing you in pain, Bambi. I can hardly stand it, you know that,” he responds. “But for either option it sounds like that’ll be the case. You either experience excruciating pain now or suffer for ten hours with severe pain.”

You mull over his words for a while before releasing the air in your lungs as your decision finalizes in your mind. 

“I wanna meet our baby, Koo,” you tell him. “I don’t want to wait.”

Jungkook smiles assuredly at you and brings your fingers to his lips to kiss.

“I know you can do this, Bambi. There’s nothing in this world I believe in more.”

“So, we’re gonna try naturally?” Your doctor asks to clarify and you answer her with a nervous nod of your head. “Great, we’ll start pushing in about ten minutes, alright? Remember that you’re going to push along with each contraction, so don’t push until I tell you.”

She walks across the room to discuss the plan with the other nurses assisting her with your delivery. Jungkook grabs your attention by brushing his knuckles down the side of your face and you paint an expression of false bravery on your face for him.

“Are you okay? You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, Koo, I’m okay,” you assure him. “Just don’t be upset if I sink my nails into your skin and make you bleed.”

“You can do whatever you need to get through it,” he responds.

He brushes your hair away again, even more of your strands matted down after the hours of labor you’ve gone through already.

“This is it, huh? No turning back,” you say.

“Nope,” Jungkook giggles. “I can’t wait, Bams.”

“Me, either,” you reply happily.

Jungkook kisses you again, cherishing the feeling of your lips as he mentally maps the shape of your mouth and memorizes this moment. You allow the lip lock to be your final moment of rest before diving headfirst into the ordeal you fear the most. The next time your lips meet, it will be once you’ve become a family. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you so damn much,” Jungkook states.

“I thought you said that blowjob I gave you was the best thing to ever happen to you?”

Jungkook laughs indiscriminately, his eyes squeezing shut as his bunny teeth peak out.

“I was wrong,” he says. “It’s you, Bambi. It’s always been you.”

You smile at him in total adoration while tracing his features with your eyes, wanting to remember years from now exactly how he looked before he became a dad. 

“I love you, Jungkook, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to properly explain just how much.”

Instead of verbally replying, there are kisses spread all over your face as you giggle until your doctor returns and asks if you’re ready. When you tell her you are, she reassures you of your strength before sitting on the stool between your legs while the other nurses stand in various positions around her.

Jungkook squeezes your hand with an unknown melody and you share an affirmative glance from your periphery. You’ve been through everything under the sun together, and this is just another hurdle you know you’ll get through side by side. There’s no doubt in your mind you can do this because he’s here beside you and no one provides you with more strength and support than him.

Three consecutive, merciless contractions crash over you and you nearly turn Jungkook’s hand purple with your grasp. Your doctor informs you in a calm voice that when the third wave of pain begins to ebb you’ll start pushing. One contraction bleeds into the next, and you hear a backwards count of three before she orders you to push hard.

The pain is abundantly worse than you ever imagined. It feels like the entire lower half of your body is on fire while your insides tear themselves to shreds. You scream as hot, salty tears blur your vision and your nails bite into Jungkook’s hand. He holds your elbow with his free hand in an attempt to give you more support to steady yourself with.

The word “push” is repeated over and over as the contraction moves through you. You do as you're told for a few minutes, although it feels like hours, and then she states you’re going to pause for a moment. 

“Okay, you can stop, dear,” she instructs. 

As soon as your efforts cease, you gasp in hefty relief and fall backwards into the bed, all the while panting and trying to calm the inner workings of your body after pushing your nervous system to the brink.

“Bambi? Are you doing alright?” Jungkook asks as he brushes his fingers through your hair.  

“Fuck you, Jungkook. You’re never coming in me again,” you huff through shaky breaths. 

He chuckles and kisses your crown a couple times, making you smile despite the exhaustion and ache. 

When your doctor asks if you’re ready to continue you reply with a weak nod of your head and return to your prior position. The same sequence of events repeats for a while, but you honestly have no idea for how long because one excruciating moment just blurs into the next. There’s a particularly awful set of pushes and afterwards your doctor happily informs you the baby’s crowning and it shouldn’t take much longer. 

You brace yourself for what you know will be the worst pain yet, readjusting your hold on Jungkook’s hand as he whispers words of encouragement in your ear and kisses your sweaty cheek. 

Truthfully, all you want is to pause and climb into his lap so he can soothe the pain away as he always does, but your baby needs you, and there’s nothing you want more in the world than to hold them in your arms.

A moment later your doctor tells you to push as hard as you’re able and the loudest scream yet rips from your throat. You genuinely believe for a moment that you're being ripped in half and won’t make it out alive. The thought scares you half to death, but you force it away so you can focus on giving your child life.

“Ah! Fuck!” You wail as tears freefall from your eyes.

“One more, honey, you’re almost there,” your doctor assures you.

“You can do it, Bams,” Jungkook shouts as his arm shakes from how firmly you’re clutching his hand. 

“Ahh no, no I can’t, I can’t do it,” you cry helplessly, the pain nearly blacking out your vision. 

“Yes, you can, baby. I know that you can,” Jungkook replies. 

You weep hysterically while trying to breathe through the pain, but it feels impossible to push air from your lungs when all you feel is the overwhelming sensation of your insides ripping apart.

“Push, honey!”

Your doctor's words shove reality before you, that you only have one choice and that’s to bring your baby into the world. So, with all the strength you have left after hours of physical pain and torment, you push with all your might.

There’s an ear piercing scream which accompanies your efforts, but then your voice is drowned out by the sound of a shrill cry. 

You gasp harshly and slam into the bed when the immense pressure disperses from your bottom half. You’re left panting haphazardly as your body slows its momentum and your mind catches up to the world around you. 

The feeling of Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours grounds you to the moment, but it’s your doctor’s voice which pulls your consciousness to the surface.

“Congratulations, you two, you have a beautiful little girl.”

“A girl?” You and Jungkook shout in unison. 

“We’re gonna clean her up and get her right back to you, alright?”

The world is spinning too fast. Everything seems to be happening at once, but you do your best to calm your mind so you can focus on your daughter and the man you love sitting beside you.

“Bambi, you did it,” Jungkook cheers as he leans over and kisses your forehead. “We have a daughter.”

You regain control of your eyes and turn towards the sound of his voice. He honestly looks just as bad as you. There are tear stains all across his face from crying over you being in pain, and fresh droplets are forming in the corners of his eyes at the news about your little girl.  

Reaching across to bring his face closer, you kiss him as ardently as you can with your strength almost entirely depleted. You’re both smiling too hard to even kiss properly, your teeth clashing as your tears of joy blend together until you don’t know whose are whose. 

You pull away when your doctor returns with your daughter wrapped in a blanket with a little pink hat on her head. She’s so tiny that you gasp in awe, your hands covering your mouth as you wait in eager anticipation for her to be placed in your arms. 

Your doctor smiles brightly at you as she hands you the little bundle of joy in her arms. 

There are truly no words to describe the feeling of holding her for the first time. It’s unbelievably surreal to think she’s the same little pumpkin growing in your womb all this time. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, with tufts of black hair just like her father’s sticking out from the edges of her hat. She has his button nose, too, but her lips and face shape seem to favor you. Her eyes are delicately shut while she sleeps peacefully in her carefully made cocoon.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper. “It feels weird holding you in my arms rather than my belly, huh?” She obviously doesn’t respond to your adoration, but you’ll speak nonsense to her all day anyway. “Oh, I love you so much already.”

Jungkook places a hand on your shoulder as he leans over to see his daughter up close. The two of you have identical watery grins as your happy tears continue to fall. 

“She’s so beautiful,” he whispers. 

“Yes, she is.” You gently caress her head and tap her little nose. “We made her, Koo.”

“For funsies.”

Laughing to the point your chest shakes, you nudge him in retaliation for possibly disturbing your little girl's slumber. He joins in your laughter and kisses the exposed skin of your shoulder where your hospital gown fell down. Your heart feels as though it’s swelling to ten times its normal size as you lean down to press the gentlest of kisses to her forehead. 

“You wanna hold her?” You ask him.

His eyes are wide with wonder as he nods his head slowly and reaches for her with adorable grabby hands. You pass her over as deftly as possible and admire the scene before you as Jungkook meets his daughter for the first time.

The sound he makes is a mixture between a gasp and a cry when he first comes face to face with her before he starts giggling endlessly, his nose scrunching up in pure bliss as more tears fall from his eyes. 

“Hi, my little one,” he coos. “I’ve been waiting so long to meet you.” You sniffle to hold back your own sentimental tears as you watch the two people you love most in the world interact. “Daddy loves you so much, little girl.” He chuckles to himself. “But we’re gonna have to talk, because you hurt Mommy and that just cannot go unpunished.”

You allow a hearty laugh to leave you now that you aren’t holding your daughter. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Bams. I’ll never be able to thank you enough, even if I spend every second of the rest of my life doing so. You made me a dad to the most beautiful little girl in the world.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Koo, because you made me a mom. You’ve loved and cared for me my entire life, and if the only way I can repay you is with her, then all this was worth it.” 

You kiss him softly, being careful not to jostle your daughter resting in his arms.

After a while of simply admiring your baby as she sleeps, your doctor informs you it’s almost time to go through afterbirth, although it should be easier since your water broke earlier. Once that’s done, they clamp the umbilical cord and allow Jungkook to cut it, which he does while smiling from ear to ear. 

It’s about an hour later when they tell Jungkook he can grab two loved ones at a time to come see you. You mutually agreed ahead of time that your mothers will be first, so he kisses you on the lips and your daughter on her forehead before heading to the waiting room to spread the magnificent news. 

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief as he travels down the long hallway away from the delivery room, still so utterly shocked that he’s a dad and he has such a beautiful daughter. 

He also can’t believe how amazing you did. He’s positively in awe of you and what you went through to deliver your baby. It honestly pains him to leave you both even if only for a few fleeting moments. He could spend forever just staring at you and your sweet little girl. 

When the double doors open, a massive crowd of your friends and family are behind them waiting eagerly for his arrival. They all stand at once when they see Jungkook enter, and every single person shares the same anticipatory expression. 

“It’s a girl!” He announces with his arms held high above his head. 

The entire room erupts with cheers and the horde of loved ones descends on him in an excited frenzy. He feels multiple friends messing with his hair affectionately, his mom kissing his cheek, and your friends hugging his waist. It makes his heart jump for joy at the realization of how loved you, him, and your baby are already.

“How’s Y/N?” Chaewon asks once everyone gives him some room to breathe.

“She’s fucking perfect. I mean, she was just so amazing. I can’t even comprehend it,” he explains. “She couldn’t get the epidural because she lost too much blood, but she pushed through and she’s doing great.”

“She gave birth naturally?” Nayeon asks in shock.

Jungkook nods and Nayeon clutches her heart in response. 

“When can we see her and the baby?” Yoongi asks him.

“So, we can take you back two at a time. We’re gonna start with our parents, moms first, and then you guys can play rock paper scissors to figure out the order of friends,” Jungkook states.

The large group of friends immediately start turning to one another to start the tournament while Jungkook gestures with his head for his and your mom to follow him back. 

His mom clings to his arm as they walk and Jungkook throws his other one around your mom’s shoulders, placing a loving kiss on each of their heads. Both women are still crying from the happy news, but he can tell they're practically vibrating with giddiness to see you and the baby.

Jungkook opens the door for them to enter before following closely behind. Before his feet even enter the space he hears the excited gasps from the women as their eyes land on you and their grandchild.

Your mom is at your side like lightning, bending down to kiss your forehead and ask how you’re doing. You assure her you’re doing alright while offering your sleeping daughter to her. She nods like a bobble head and gently lifts the swaddled child from your arms where she was laying. 

Jungkook’s mom gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and then leans over your mom’s shoulder to meet her first grandchild. You watch endearingly as their expressions glow with warmth and affection for her while Jungkook joins you by your bedside again. When your eyes meet, you notice he’s staring at you as though you created the entire universe from scratch. The blush on your face is involuntary, and you kiss him for the umpteenth time today to hide the pink hue.

“I love you so much, baby,” Jungkook whispers in between smooches.

You plant one last peck on him.

“I love you more.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Are we about to have our first fight as parents?”

Eventually, after your fathers meet their granddaughter, your friends begin arriving in pairs to visit you and their niece, ending with Namjoon and Jimin, which is no surprise given their terrible history with lady luck. By the time the initial pass through of all your guests comes to a close, you’re beyond exhausted, so Jungkook takes your daughter while you rest. Your doctor bids you farewell shortly beforehand and tells you the nurses will assist with nursing for the first time once you wake up. 

Upon your return to the land of the living, the three of you are admitted to an actual hospital room rather than the delivery room, which allows for more people to come see you at one time. Although, you and Jungkook decide it’s best to hold off on visitors until after you breastfeed your daughter. 

The nurses are wonderful with helping you accomplish the daunting task, and it’s honestly easier than you expected. Your little girl latches onto you with ease and although it feels funny at first, the longer she drinks from you the more soothing it becomes. Relaxing against the pillows, you shut your eyes and appreciate the newness of motherhood while feeding your daughter. Jungkook interrupts your peaceful haven with a wistful sigh as his head falls into one of his palms. 

“I’m so jealous,” he states with his eyes locked on your chest.

The slap upside the head you give him is purely on instinct.

Your loved ones all visit again over the next twenty four hours prior to your discharge from the hospital. Before departing, the nurses ask you about a name since the process is simpler to complete while you’re still here. You and Jungkook wear matching smirks while eyeing one another. Contrary to popular belief, the two of you really did know which name to choose the moment you saw her.

You, Jungkook, and Naru return home as a family for the first time, along with your parents, later that day. Bam and Usagi are downright ecstatic to see you and Jungkook’s dad has to hold Bam back from jumping on you or Jungkook, who’s holding Naru in her baby carrier. 

It’s a flurry of movement as your moms support your back during your trek upstairs to sleep the pain away while Jungkook places Naru in her crib. Your dads immediately begin cleaning to take some chores off your plate, the two of them working in tandem to wash away the sticky bodily fluid still on the kitchen floor. Once you’re out cold and Jungkook is admiring his daughter with his head resting on the edge of her crib, your parents complete some other miscellaneous tasks around the house and feed the pets before heading home. 

After they leave, Jungkook sits in the nursery rocking chair and watches with stars in his eyes as his little girl sleeps soundly in her stolen cradle. 

It’s not totally certain why you chose Naru as her name. A couple months ago, Jungkook was rattling names off a list along with their meanings, and for some unknown reason it just stuck out. You and Jungkook both loved it amongst some other girl and boy names, and shortly after she was born, you unanimously agreed to go with that one. There’s an added cuteness bonus because Naru is the name of Usagi’s best friend in Sailor Moon, and in your little familiar they’re sisters. 

The name means to become, grow, reach, or attain, and you think the meaning suits her and the two of you so perfectly. 

When you wake after some solid sleep, it’s with a sore groan as you literally roll off the mattress to check on your family. It’s still so surreal referring to yourselves that way, but a completely lovesick smile graces your lips every time you do. 

You stop in your tracks before anyone can see you once you reach the first floor, wanting to leave the beautiful scene you’re witnessing undisturbed for a while longer.

Jungkook is horizontal across the couch with his shirt open as Naru sleeps on his bare chest. He’s been absolutely dying to try skin on skin time with her after reading how beneficial it can be, and although it may be good for Naru, the sight is terrible for you because it nearly sends you into hysterics over how precious it is. Not only that, but Usagi is curled up between his legs and Bam is watching curiously from the chair next to them. If you could pause time to admire this moment for longer than the world allows, you’d do so in a heartbeat.

A few quiet minutes pass as you watch Jungkook’s gaze flit across all the tiny features of his daughter’s face with the sweetest smile on his lips. He looks utterly in love, his eyes nearly forming into hearts as he stares at her. It makes you wonder if this is what everyone means when they mention how he looks at you. 

When you finally make yourself known and pad over to the couch in your slippers, Jungkook’s face somehow lights up even more, his smile growing exponentially as you sit beside his legs.

“Hi, beautiful,” he says softly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright, just sore,” you tell him. 

“Anything I can do?”

“No.” You shake your head with an enchanted smile as you brush some of his hair back and caress his cheekbone. “You’re doing everything already.”

He smiles gratefully and twists his head to kiss your wrist. The three of you remain there for a while, you and Jungkook only speaking every so often as your daughter naps peacefully and he brushes her tiny strands of hair away from her face. 

BACK TO ZERO

The low, dulcet sound of Jungkook singing in his lower register forces your eyes open. Blinking a couple times to bring your mind to reality, you turn your head to see Jungkook beside you in bed, softly singing to Naru as her cries subside and she falls into a deep slumber. 

You reach for them, running your hand along Jungkook’s bicep so he knows you’re awake. He looks at you with a saccharine smile and whispers good morning as to not disturb the child sleeping in his arms. Bending down, you place a gentle kiss on her forehead before sitting up to kiss Jungkook where he’s resting against the headboard. 

“You should’ve woken me up, Koo,” you whisper.

“It’s okay, Bambi. I got it,” he replies with an affirmative smile. 

Jungkook’s been doing more than his fair share of waking up during all hours of the night to care for your daughter, even though you originally agreed to take turns. He claims it’s because you’re still recovering from pushing her out of your body while he sat and watched, and it only makes sense for you to rest while he does the heavy lifting. You appreciate him more than words can express, but guilt still eats away at you everytime you see dark bags under his eyes from the fatigue.

Sometimes he doesn’t have a choice but to wake you, because as much as your daughter is undeniably smitten by him, sometimes a girl just needs her mother. 

If waking you is necessary, Jungkook will do so in the softest way possible, usually by pressing featherlight kisses all over your face and quietly telling you Naru needs you. Even when it’s your expertise required, he’ll follow you into the nursery while you either feed her or give her some much needed mommy and me time. Once her cries subside and she falls asleep, Jungkook will take you by the hand and tuck you into bed with a promise of a few more hours of rest. 

When she isn’t being finicky, she’ll fall asleep in seconds to the feeling of Jungkook rocking her or singing her lullabies. You genuinely believe she recognizes his voice from when he sang to her in your womb because her eyes always light up in wonder whenever he starts a new tune. 

She’s only been in your lives for a month, but somehow you love her more than anything else in the world. It’s strange for something to have a complete occupation of your heart without knowing them very long, but Naru makes it easy. Even though she can be quite the terror when she’s incessantly crying and screaming, and her diapers smell like sewage, she’s the absolute sweetest baby. When she’s being held, she always curls into the person’s chest and lays her little hand on them, or she’ll tightly grip their fingers between her tiny ones. She smiles constantly, no matter if you’re simply admiring her or playing peek-a-boo.

Naru definitely looks more like Jungkook, which is exactly what you were hoping for, although she does share some features with you. 

The first time she blinked her eyes open and you saw a twin pair of the big, boba eyes you fell in love with, you nearly wept. In fact, they’re so large they nearly take up half her face. You’ve already captured at least a thousand pictures of them side by side, with Jungkook often forcing his eyes open wider so they match hers. 

Your phone is positively overflowing with photos from the last thirty days, mostly selfies of you and Jungkook with your beautiful daughter, pictures of just her, or secret candid shots of Jungkook holding or playing with her. His phone is much the same, at least you assume so given that he’s always pretending not to be snapping photos whenever you’re with Naru.

“What time is it?” You ask Jungkook.

“Four in the morning.”

You groan quietly enough to avoid waking the sleeping infant and stand for a bathroom break before returning to your peaceful slumber. Your body is still in shambles from the birthing process, although you’re steadily recovering. Some basic functions are still a struggle and the extreme fatigue is enough to keep you in bed all day. Jungkook’s doing his best to take care of you while also caring for Naru, but both your parents come over often to assist in whatever way they can. 

Your friends are visiting for the first time later today because they’ve been begging nonstop to see Naru again. It’s not that you didn’t want them here, but you and Jungkook felt some alone time as a family was necessary to settle into your new routine. 

Both friend groups are visiting this afternoon since Mina and Taehyung are officially dating and it’s simpler to invite everyone over at once. You’re honestly elated about seeing your friends, desperately in need of some social interaction that isn’t with a tiny human or your boyfriend. 

Referring to Jungkook as your boyfriend is quite the adjustment, especially since the illusive term doesn’t hold nearly enough weight for what he truly is to you. Best friend still feels more fitting even though there’s a platonic connotation, baby daddy lowers him to a status far beneath him, and the word partner doesn’t feel intimate enough for your connection. So, boyfriend it is for now, even though Jungkook continuously makes references to replacing the current ring on your finger with a different one. 

You always reprimand him when he makes those comments, telling him it’s way too soon for both your relationship and being parents, and he assures you he agrees, but you know your hopeless romantic best friend better than anyone, and it’s obvious he’s itching to get down on one knee. 

The thought does leave you embarrassingly giddy, but even if you did get engaged, you wouldn’t wed for a while given that no one wants to plan a wedding and raise an infant simultaneously. Right now, you’re perfectly content with your current ring and the meaning behind it. Ironically, poor Jungkook keeps muttering to himself about how he’s ever going to top it when he does pick out an actual engagement ring. 

Upon returning to bed, Jungkook purses his lips towards you and you placate him with a tender smooch before plopping into bed. Unfortunately, you aren’t comfortable for long because your breasts start to hurt from needing to either feed your daughter or pump milk for later. Since she’s currently sleeping like the little angel she is, you grab your breast pump and mirror Jungkook’s position against the headboard while the machine works its magic. 

“You always look like an alien when you do that,” Jungkook jokes. 

“Like a sexy alien or an E.T. type?”

“Totally sexy, so fucking sexy,” he replies without missing a beat.

You blush bright pink and avoid his eyes before it gets any worse. Nothing about motherhood makes you feel even remotely sexy or desirable and yet there’s still hunger in Jungkook’s eyes whenever he sees you.

His love for you is genuinely the only thing that’s gotten you through the first month of parenthood and you can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. He’s always attentive to both you and Naru, never complains when you ask him to do something, and does everything in his power to relieve the weight on your shoulders. If there's a world where he didn’t accidentally knock you up, you don’t wish to live in it. 

Eventually, you and Jungkook are able to enter dreamland again after he places Naru in her crib. When he returns to the bedroom, he pulls you into his arms from behind and you melt into his warm embrace. His lips dance along your neck, jaw, and cheek while you hum happily at the familiar sensation. It’s been difficult not having dedicated alone time since Naru was born, so you cherish moments like these when you can relax as just the two of you.

Naru’s lovely cries wake you about four hours later, and you seize the opportunity to attend to her before Jungkook can steal your turn. 

When you reach the nursery, Usagi is posted up outside the door as she often is whenever your little girl is crying. Your adorable cat has fallen head over heels for your daughter and it makes you swoon whenever they interact. Bam’s also nearby, his ears perking up when you open the nursery door and he hears Naru crying. Of the two of them he’s taken on the protector role, turning him into quite the guard dog lately. You don’t allow them inside the room, but give them both a quick rub to thank them for being so caring. 

Naru is twisting and turning in her crib as she cries, her tiny hands reaching for you as soon as you appear before her eyes.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” you coo as you scoop her up. 

Cradling her to your chest, you soothe her by patting her back while she lays her head on your shoulder and cries into your shirt. One thing about newborns is it’s easy to figure out what they need since it can only be one of two things. So, you carry her to the changing table and diligently clean her up before getting her back into her onesie. She stretches her chunky fingers at you to hold her again and you immediately oblige, rocking her in your arms as you move across the room. 

The door creaks open as you’re laying her down again, but there’s no need to turn around to know who’s entering the room. 

The suspicion is confirmed when two strong arms wrap around your middle and you feel your boyfriend’s lips on your shoulder. As Jungkook continues pressing chaste kisses to your skin, you affectionately boop your daughter’s nose and watch as an adorable yawn takes over her face and her fingers curl into tiny fists.

Jungkook is still kissing along your shoulder and up your neck, but he isn’t trying to initiate anything, his lips are caressing you in a way you know means he’s merely doing it because he loves you and to silently thank you for doing everything you do. 

Your hand travels behind your head to play with his hair, tugging on it gently so you can hear his sweet laugh in your ear. 

“Wish we could stay like this forever, Bams.”

“Me, too,” you whisper. 

Turning around in his hold, you capture his neck with both arms and yank him closer for a real kiss. Jungkook automatically tugs you into him with his fingers clutching your waist, causing your back to arch as he deepens the kiss by coaxing your mouth open. 

It’s important to make time for intimacy even if it can’t lead anywhere yet, and truth be told, your inherent need to feel his lips on yours never wanes. You wonder if this so-called honeymoon phase will ever go away or if you just love him so much that this is what forever is going to be like. 

Jungkook grabs your jaw with one hand as his tongue slips into your mouth, and if he wasn’t holding you the action would probably send you falling into Naru’s cradle. You kiss him a hundred times a day, at least, and he still manages to make your knees weak every time. The two of you moan in harmony when your tongues meet and you press yourself harder against him in response. His chest is warm and solid and you can feel his steady heartbeat beneath his shirt. 

“I love you, babygirl,” he confesses quietly. 

He’s kissing you again before you’re able to reciprocate his devotion, but you part for the sake of oxygen a moment later and leave your foreheads touching. 

“I love you, too.”

You allow Naru to sleep in peace and exit the nursery holding hands. Jungkook leads you down the hall to his bedroom, which is technically shared now. There are plans to turn what was your bedroom back into Jungkook’s office since you certainly aren’t using it anymore, and you need the space where his desk currently sits for all of your furniture. 

Waking up in Jungkook’s arms is hands down the most wonderful feeling in the world, on par with holding Naru while she smiles radiantly at you. 

Upon returning to the confines of your bedroom, Jungkook brings you into him again so he can kiss you fervently. His intensity pulls a chuckle from your lungs as you shamelessly make out in the middle of the room. 

“How many more weeks again?” He asks breathlessly, referring to when you’ll be cleared for sexual activity.

“I’m not sure, since whoever decided on six weeks clearly never pushed a child out of their vagina,” you respond. 

Jungkook giggles while leaning in to kiss you again. He graces you with one last peck before heading to grab some towels so you can prepare for the day ahead.

“Well, whenever you are ready, just know I’ll be really gentle.”

“I don’t even think you believe that, Jungkook.”

His smile is riddled with faux guilt when he returns to your side. 

“Yeah, no, that’s a total lie.”

You smack his chest with the towel in retaliation, but you’re already laughing to reveal your true feelings. The two of you head to the bathroom together, making sure to grab the baby monitor so you can hear if Naru wakes up. 

Showering together is another sparing moment when you can just be in each other’s presence without any of the noise, so it’s become routine lately. Sometimes it gets interrupted by your daughter and one of you, usually Jungkook, has to run out in a towel to console her. One time, he still had shampoo in his hair and you carefully crafted a little bun on his head so it didn’t drip into his eyes. 

Jungkook turns the water on while you brush your teeth. It’s adorably domestic and reminds you just how far you’ve come since you first moved in more than six months ago. 

Your boyfriend strips as you're washing the toothpaste from your mouth and it takes everything in you not to drool into the sink. No matter how many times you see him naked, every glance feels like the first and you go dizzy over the sight. 

“Bambi, stop ogling me,” he teases. 

“Stop looking like that, then.”

“Oh, well excuse me.”

“You’re excused,” you reply, your arms crossing over your chest in victory. 

A sly grin appears as Jungkook begins robbing you of your own clothes. He caresses your torso once you’re naked in front of him, massaging your skin with his warm fingers until he reaches your hips and squeezes them with a quiet growl.

You frown involuntarily, your usual confidence noticeably absent in the skin you’re currently wearing. Some of the baby weight is gone, about ten or so pounds, but there are stretch marks and extra skin that didn’t previously exist staring back at you in the mirror.

“What is it, Bams?” He asks with evident concern. 

There’s confusion over your negative reaction painting Jungkook’s features as he eyes you inquisitively. 

“It’s unfair,” you pout. 

“What is, baby?” 

Your chin is pitched up by Jungkook’s pointer finger so he can watch your expressions when you respond. 

“How sexy you are,” you answer.

“Unfair to whom? I’m yours, aren’t I?” 

Blush creeps across your bare chest and neck, but his sweet words still don’t dispel your insecurities.

“Yeah, but I’m all flabby and misshapen while you still look freaking perfect.”

“Bambi, you look beyond perfect. There’s nothing that could make you not the most beautiful woman in the world,” Jungkook states earnestly.

“You’re only saying that because you’re in love with me,” you argue.

“No, no,” Jungkook says with a shake of his head. “I thought that long before I fell in love with you, Bams.” He can sense your disbelief, so he bends his knees until he’s staring directly into your eyes. “Do I need to kiss every inch of you to prove it? Because I fucking will.”

“No,” you mumble. His knuckles brush your cheekbone and you sigh. “I’m sorry, I just don’t feel like myself right now, you know?” 

“No need to apologize, baby, just tell me how to help and I will.” 

His everlasting love and consideration for you bring a smile to your face and you kiss him briefly before leading him towards the shower.

“You don’t need to do anything more than you already are,” you tell him. “And maybe once I’m fully recovered you can bring me with you to the gym so I can get back to normal faster.” 

Jungkook enthusiastically nods at your proposal of working out together. He’s been begging you for a while to join him at the gym, mostly because he wants to do push ups over you and kiss you everytime he goes down.

He holds you steady via a hand on your waist as you enter the shower before joining you under the falling water, keeping your back pressed to his chest while the steam encompasses you both. His lips find your neck as he slowly kisses across your wet skin, except unlike before, there’s fire behind his touch as he ravishes you in sensual affection. The water drenching you both only serves to up the intensity, the feeling of him licking up the droplets while he sucks on your throat sending you into euphoric bliss.

“Koo,” you moan, leaning your head on his shoulder as your eyes shut.

“Just because I can’t fuck you doesn’t mean I won’t make you feel good, babygirl,” he tells you. 

Which is precisely what he does as he continues kissing you in all the spots he knows drive you crazy while his hands caress you everywhere within reach. They eventually find purchase on your tits and he tactfully massages them in his big hands. 

His touch turns your brain to mush, your mind descending into a pool of pleasure as you relish in the sensation of his hands on you. It takes all your willpower not to say fuck it and let him push his cock into your cunt. If there wasn’t an adorable little girl who’ll be waking up soon, you’d let him manhandle you for hours until the water runs ice cold. 

You turn around abruptly upon deciding you want to taste him rather than feel him, and Jungkook catches on instantly, walking you both under the showerhead until your back meets the wall as his lips descend on yours. 

The kiss is deliciously sloppy from the combination of tongues chasing each other and water pouring down. Your hands rake into Jungkook’s dripping strands of black hair as you moan unabashedly into his mouth. One of Jungkook’s hands slams on the shower wall beside your head while the other catches your waist to keep your body pressed to his. Everything about it feels absolutely filthy even though you’re in a place meant for cleanliness. 

“I didn’t even know it was possible to want someone like this,” Jungkook whispers. “All the goddamn fucking time, baby.”

“Me, either,” you reply through a moan as Jungkook begins kissing down your neck again. “I don’t know how we went so long without it.”

He laughs while shaking his head where it resides in the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Because we’re idiots.”

There’s only a split second between his response and his lips latching onto your nipple, his hand inching up your spine to fondle the opposite breast. It forces a gasp out of you as you desperately grasp his hair in your hands. He plays with your tits in sync, sucking on your pebbled nub in perfect time with the movement of his fingers. An incoherent curse passes through your lips when his ministrations cause you to lactate into his mouth, and he groans in delight as he laps up the milk coming from your nipple with his tongue. The act is supremely messy because Jungkook is purposely missing some of your breast milk so he can lick it off your skin before the water washes it away.

He alternates between drinking straight from the source and allowing his tongue to collect it, but neither choice is better for your sanity. This isn’t the first time he’s acted upon his insatiable urges, just last week he wrapped his lips around your nipple after you were forced awake at three in the morning to check on Naru. The feeling of him sucking on you while you lactate was strange initially, but after a moment it made your head spin with pleasure as he played with your tits and fed himself from your body. 

“Fuck, Koo.” 

Your head hits the shower tile while he moans pathetically around your nipple.

“I’ll apologize to our daughter for stealing her food later,” he mumbles into your skin.

You chuckle and Jungkook naturally smiles just from the sound of your happiness. He leaves a final kiss on your breast before returning to your lips with a satisfied hum. 

You’ve never had shower sex before and unfortunately, today won’t be the day, but after this it’s certainly going on your list. 

Your lips continue clashing while you caress each other for an unknown amount of time, but when you do finally catch your breath, the water has begun cooling down. There’s a major responsibility to someone other than yourselves looming outside the bathroom door, so you stop being sexual deviants and actually wash up for the day. 

Jungkook pours some soap on your luffa so he can work it into your skin, not missing a single inch as he glides the sponge along your body. You do the same for him while he gathers shampoo in his hands and starts cleansing your hair. 

He’s sporting the most adorable look of concentration while he scrubs the shampoo on your scalp until it turns to suds. Repeating the motions on his own hair, you dig your nails between his strands and make him whine from the soothing sensation on his head. The two of you finish up quickly, turning off the water and handing each other your respective towels to dry off.

After getting dressed, you return to Naru’s nursery to wake her up and feed her. Ironically, you have to bottle feed her because Jungkook used up all the milk collecting in your breasts for her morning meal. She looks positively delighted to see you once she’s awake, a heart stopping giggle coming from her tiny body as you pick her up. 

Jungkook says he’ll prepare for your guests to arrive while you care for Naru, which includes dolling her up for her visitors. You don’t normally dress her in actual clothes, usually leaving her in a onesie for simplicity, but you want your friends to see her in some of the clothes they bought her. When she naps, you always swaddle her in the blanket Chaewon made and most of her toys come from your friends. 

You trudge downstairs with her resting on your shoulder to find Jungkook cleaning up some lingering dishes in the kitchen. Bam bounds over excitedly to greet you and you use your free hand to throw his bone across the room after petting his head. Usagi follows close behind at your feet, per usual, her big eyes staring up at you and Naru as you walk towards the kitchen. 

There’s a blindingly bright smile on Jungkook’s face when you enter the room and he instinctively gestures for your daughter. Gladly passing her over, you watch in endearment as he nuzzles his nose against hers and she makes an adorable cooing sound. 

“Hi, pretty girl,” he says in his baby voice. She giggles and reaches for his cheeks at the sound of him praising her. “Yeah? You want your daddy?” 

Her giggles grow louder when he blows raspberries on each of her chubby cheeks. She cuddles up against his chest as he holds her close, her eyes shutting serenely at the feeling of her dad’s warmth surrounding her. Jungkook bounces her in his arms which causes her to smile adoringly at him and her little toothless grin makes your heart sing. 

You automatically take over for him on the chore front since Naru clearly wants some daddy-daughter time. 

When she wakes up after falling asleep in Jungkook’s warm embrace, it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable and needs her diaper changed. You never predicted being able to tell which cries mean what, but you’ve memorized every single noise she makes at this point. Jungkook volunteers for dumpster duty while you finish up downstairs. 

When they return, she’s still crying incessantly, only it’s soft whimpers you both know mean she wants her mommy. Jungkook gracefully hands her to you, ensuring she’s secure in your arms before letting go. You bring her to the couch and lay her in your lap, holding her little hands and moving them in circles to soothe her.

“Hi, sweet Naru.” Her cries diminish as soon as she hears your voice. “I love you so much, my darling girl. Yeah, that’s right.” 

She makes the cutest baby sound imaginable and squeezes your fingers to the best of her ability. You coo in adoration and bend down to kiss her tummy so she giggles even more. Jungkook clicks his tongue over your shoulder. 

“I always think she’s such a daddy’s girl until you get your hands on her,” he comments. 

“She is a daddy’s girl, Koo. In fact, she may be more obsessed with you than I am.” You boop her nose and her smile grows while she sticks her tongue out. “Isn’t that right, Naru? Mommy’s gonna have to fight you for him, aren’t I, little girl?”

The noise she makes sounds suspiciously like a yes. Jungkook blushes deep red, his love for his daughter physically manifesting on his cheeks. 

“I love her more than anything, but you’ll always be my girl, Bams,” he says with a kiss to your cheek.

An hour later the first of your guests arrives. You purposely told them all different times, in about ten minute increments, so everyone gets devoted time with Naru without fighting over her. Jihyo is first, and she has enough gifts in her hands to fill the entire nursery. She squeals and jumps a couple inches off the ground in delight when you appear before her with Naru. The gift bags fall to the floor with a plop as she extends her arms to take her niece from you. 

“Naru, my sweetheart!” She cheers.

You and Jungkook are able to take a much needed parenting reprieve as your friends slowly pile in and pass your daughter around like a hot potato. Once all thirteen of them have arrived, everyone spreads out between the living room and the kitchen. 

Naru is currently sound asleep in Yoongi’s arms, the usually expressionless man wearing a face of complete joy as he watches her with his gummy smile even though she’s not awake to return it. 

“I still don’t understand how the youngest of us is a dad before anyone else,” Jin says as he chews on his slice of pizza.

“Because he’s a doofus,” Jimin responds. 

“Hey! I may be a doofus, but I took part in making the cutest little girl ever,” Jungkook defends himself. “In fact, you could say I’m about fifty percent of the reason she’s so adorable!”

“Kook, you got to creampie the hottest woman we all know and then magically have a child nine months later. I’ll give you five percent tops,” Chaewon argues. 

Everyone chuckles at Chaewon’s extremely high level overview of pregnancy.

“She seems really well behaved,” Yunjin comments. 

“She is,” you say proudly. “Naru is a little angel.”

“You won’t be saying that in a few months,” Namjoon says. “She’ll be a demon once she starts teething.”

“Oh, remind me not to visit around then,” Hoseok adds.

As if she heard them talking smack about her, Naru wakes up and begins fussing around in Yoongi’s arms. His eyes go wide at the foreign behavior and he immediately locks eyes with Jungkook across the room for assistance. Your boyfriend smiles at his friend’s nervousness and goes to grab your daughter before she starts crying 

When she instantaneously settles down at the feeling of Jungkook holding her, all seven girls harmoniously gasp in awe. 

“Oh my gosh, she loves you, Jeon!” Eunchae states. 

“I would sure hope so,” he replies with a proud grin. 

He kisses her head a couple times and she nuzzles against his shoulder, tucking her face into his neck and laying her adorable, chunky, baby hand on his chest. 

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” Taehyung notes from where he sits with a hand on Mina’s thigh.

“So, who’s next? I think Naru needs a playmate, right?” Nayeon asks the room, her eyebrows rising when she meets Mina’s gaze. 

Mina aggressively shakes her head while putting her hands up in surrender.

“Nuh uh, not yet, especially not after hearing about what Y/N went through,” she states.

“How are you doing, Y/N?” Tzuyu changes the subject to ask.

“I’m recovering, some days are worse than others,” you answer. “I honestly thought I was going to die.”

“I still can’t believe you did it without any pain meds,” Chaewon says with a shake of her head. 

“You and me both.”

“It was genuinely pure magic,” Jungkook comments, his hand gently patting Naru’s back. “She’s a fucking goddess.”

You send him a charming smile from across the room and he blows a kiss at you in return. 

“It was worth it, that’s all I know,” you respond.

“It totally was, look at your little girl! She’s perfect,” Eunchae says. 

“We can only hope the rest of us schmucks make children as lovely as Naru someday,” Jimin states while holding his glass up to cheers. “To our niece!”

Everyone raises their own glasses in solidarity, except for Jungkook, who lifts Naru up Lion King-style as she giggles and kicks her little feet in joy. 

The night continues with Naru being passed around the room a couple more times. She seems to enjoy her uncle Jin the most, probably because he’s an expert at making funny faces that cause her to cheerfully scream and laugh. Jihyo also garners much of her attention, with Naru making grabby hands at her every so often. Mina jokes it’s because Jihyo has big tits and your daughter is getting her confused with a source of nutrients. 

Your friends eventually say their goodbyes until all that remains are the vast amount of gifts they brought. You and Jungkook mutually agree to put them away in the morning and use this precious time for quality family bonding in bed. 

The two of you lay on your stomachs with Naru between you on the mattress. You both take turns tickling her and blowing raspberries on her stomach and thighs just to hear the perfect laugh you adore so much. It feels like pure, unadulterated bliss, and with Bam and Usagi both curled up by your feet, you feel utterly complete as a little family of five. 

Resting your head on your arm, you gaze at Jungkook as he admires his little girl. The adoration in his sparkling eyes makes you feel eternally grateful to your past self for the decision she made. Here you thought you were sleeping with Jungkook just to try it, and now your heart is reborn in more ways than one. It’s swollen to max capacity with both romantic love for your best friend and unconditional love for your daughter. 

Jungkook notices your stare and raises an eyebrow at you. When you don’t respond, he leans over Naru to kiss you and pull you from your reverie.  

“You gonna tell me why you’re looking at me like that, Bambi?” 

You shake your head.

“I don’t have to because you already know,” you respond. 

He smiles beautifully and tucks some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah, I do.”

Jungkook kisses you again, smoothly gliding his lips over yours while he pours his love for you into the gesture. Ardently returning his kiss, you caress his cheek with one hand and move your lips in a gentle harmony with his. Your foreheads meet after pulling away and upon looking sideways, you see Naru playfully rolling side to side between you. You share a heartwarming laugh at her mannerisms, both of you so completely taken by your daughter and each other. 

“I’m so glad I asked you to try something new that night, Bams. Now we get to do everything together for the rest of our lives, starting with parenting.”

“Mm, same here, Koo.” You lean back and rest your head in your hand. “I wonder what other new stuff we’ll get up to.”

Jungkook hums inquisitively and tongues his cheek as he ponders his answer, but then his eyes light up with a mischievous grin. 

“Marriage?”

Taglist: @lovingkoalaface @starcandybby @junniesoleilkth @keylime4eva @kissyfacekoo @rpwprpwprpwprw @spideyjimin @jjeonjjk7 @joonlover1207 @annpeachy @rexana19 @heartwith0uthe @kosmos1307 @minyoongi7016 @magicalnachocreator @misschelliejeon @bubblyi3 @bhonbhon @polnaraffsrack @amarawayne @majesticjung-97 @kmpj9 @upo1313 @songbyeonkim @kikikaaa @glowjuli @avawants2havefun @hyeinwluv85s @someonegoood @kyljjk @lalaren @dna2723 @tteokbokibyjk @tatyhend @kookienooki @ana-marais98 @gimeow @importantflowersblog43 @minghaosimp @belleilichil @neurospicynugget @missdumpling190811 @jungkooksnerniemilk @imhereonlytoreadxoxo @kayswatanabe @fancypeacepersona @jeonsgf-97 @star-my @neg-l3ct @kelsyx33

[jaegerbby]

➳ someone older: chapter one

--͙[kento nanami x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 4420

╰┈➤ rundown; you can’t have everything you want but you definitely can’t have your best friend’s dad.

╰┈➤ caution; best friend's dad! nanami, age gap (20s & 40s), dirty talk (descriptions of a blow job/face fucking), grinding, alcohol consumption, mentions of family issues.

| chapter 2 |

you like to think that all the things life has thrown at you have not influenced you.

perhaps, it has changed you in one way.

you want the things you cannot have.

one of those being the blonde man sitting before you.

nanami is gorgeous.

to an insane degree.

you are mesmerised every time you see him.

he is narrow eyes and sculpted cheeks. chiseled jaw and pink lips. he is enthralling and kind. he is stern but you find his humour one of his most attractive qualities.

he is dress shirts and khaki pants galore, you barely saw a glimpse of his body but the muscles of his back are so defined you can see them etched through his shirt.

his back is broad, his biceps are wide and you want to see it all in the absence of clothing.

he is your obsession although he should not be.

right now, the scent of alcohol intermingles with his enticing cologne.

right now, his daughter is sleeping upstairs while you are standing a foot away from him.

his daughter happens to be your best friend.

she has done nothing but be there for you and treat you with utmost affection so why is it hard for you to resist the one man you should not be around?

the truth is, nanami is one in a million. the more you dwell on the thought of him, the more you realise, there is no one like him.

"nanami." you call. his eyes open immediately, his head raises from where he leans on the couch.

he finds the bare skin of thighs, your sleep shorts hardly do anything to conceal you. he straightens up, avoiding your figure once he comes to his senses. he clears his throat but you step closer.

"can i join you?"

"i don't think you should." he brushes his hands over his face. you both tip toe around the tension that surrounds you. every time your eyes meet, every time you are in a room alone.

it manifests in the way you stand a little too close to him or smile a bit too wide. in your fingertips brushing his skin as he passes a dish to you when you stay over for dinner. in you calling his name a bit more excitedly than you should.

you sit beside him regardless of his answer. your thigh presses to his, you see him glance down although he does not tell you to move.

you glimpse over the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. his fingers fidget before he reaches for the glass. he swirls the liquid then downs it in one go. your eyes do not leave him for a moment.

you memorise the way his adam's apple bobs while he consumes the contents, the way his forearm flexes and his veins raise.

it clicks against the table and he fills it up again. his expression remains unchanged despite the bitter liquor.

"i want some." it is not the alcohol you are referring to. he knows it but nanami has a bad habit of ignoring things.

"it's not good for you." he speaks softly and lowly.

"so?" your hand finds the rim of the cup, bringing it to your lips. nanami cannot think as your mouth rests on the same part his did. your eyes squeeze as the liquid burns your throat.

he leans back, his legs spreading and his hips tilting up as he adjusts himself. his leg pushes yours without much trouble. you swear he is doing it on purpose. the material of his pants strain against his built thighs and the shirt he wears is held together by only a few buttons.

otherwise the fabric loosely drapes over his skin and you can see most of his chest.

"you don't listen."

"never." your tongue slips out to dampen your lips, you wish you could taste the whiskey off his instead of your own. you hardly think, maybe you do not think at all when his hooded eyes are on you. "do you have a crush on me?"

his lips pursue, his lips that you so badly want to kiss. "i'm too old for that."

"you aren't denying it." you perk up.

nanami's finger brushes against your knee. almost like an apology for the words that follow. "you don't like me y/n. you don't. you have things going on at home and you want some place to run to." it makes your chest hurt. "you want somebody to treat you the way you deserve." his thumb slowly drags over your knee and the softness of his voice has your heart beating faster.

his gaze is too affection for you to be mad at him. although you want to be.

"maybe i do. maybe i'm just fucked up. is that why you sound like you want to take care of me?" you are crossing a line. "cause, kento, i'm a mess. i don't know what's good for me but you're the sensible one." he grips your knee tighter, you called his name. it might be the best thing he has ever heard. "shouldn't you do what's right?"

"i am. i'm doing the right thing." he forces out.

"really?" you lean over him, your hand on the knee furthest from you. his eyes follow as your palm moves higher, his muscles shifting beneath it. his shoulders jolt when your soft lips meet his chest. "i like you. it's not some misplaced affection. if it was, i would never come near you and you know that."

he does. he knows you better than he should.

you trail wet kisses across the broad expanse of his chest, moving along his neck until you finally meet his angular jaw.

you mouth feels too good him and you are too close for him to think properly. your scent invades his senses and destroys his resolve.

"do you want me to be your baby?" you puff, there is barely an inch of space between you. you are practically falling into his lap and the weight of your little hand impresses dangerously close to his erection.

"don't ask me that." he clenches his jaw and he has to reach down to adjust his cock. he hates that you lick your lips because of it. he hates that it makes him harder.

"why? you're a man and a girl is throwing herself at you."

his features contort in something close to irritation. his fingers slowly find your hair, stroking it with affection. "i don't just want to fuck you. you're not some random girl, you're not a hook up."

your eyes flutter, nanami cannot help but like the way your lashes look. he likes the way your face looks this close. your finger hooks on his shirt together exposing more of his chest.

"i want you, more than i should, more than i'm allowed to."

your eyes flit from his hooded ones to his lips. you reach up to brush your fingers along them. you want to kiss him. you feel like you need it to breathe.

"you're drunk."

"no, i'm not."

"then everything you say, will you take it back later?" you swallow hard.

"no." he draws you closer, nudging your nose with his. you swear you stop breathing when he leans in until your lips meet the other side of your fingers.

"don't hate me for this." he tugs your hand from between you and he softly pecks your lips. how could you ever hate him? there was no plausible scenario that would ever change the way you feel about him.

"that's not a real kiss." he tilts his head, brows raising at your miffed tone.

"what kind of kiss do you want?"

"i want to taste you as much as i feel you." you jolt when strong hands grip your waist and he's bringing you onto his lap.

all you can focus on is the way you are perched on him after never getting this close before.

"like this?" he caresses your cheek and then his mouth finds yours. nanami kisses like he has done it countless times.

it is slow and gentle. it is sweet and kind.

you tightly grip his shirt as he tilts his head and his mouth languidly caresses yours. he separates for a second then his lips meet yours again.

this time his tongue enters your mouth.

this time his tongue claims every inch of his mouth.

he tastes of alcohol. you do not want to ever stop kissing him.

"yeah, like that." you quietly say as he leans away. his hands settle on your lower back, you are all too aware. they are so warm. you hold his jaw to repeatedly peck his lips.

once, twice. he flashes you a smile that completely diminishes your self control before his lips are pressed to yours again and again.

you undo the button of his shirt, moaning into his mouth and nanami surely approves because he kisses you harder. you glimpse down at bare skin, his body is far from what you would expect someone his age to look like. you wetly kiss him before your lips find his neck.

you suck on the pale skin, nipping it as you pull away. his skin bruises easily, it turns red with every bite. nanami only grips you tighter. his head tilts back allowing you to kiss down the column of his throat with no obstructions.

you leave a flurry of kisses along his warm skin. it is impossible to not like him. it is an insane request to ever ask of someone.

when your mouth covers his again, his tongue messily coats over yours. he kisses hard. he kisses until your lips are swollen and your hands have disheveled his hair.

your hips shift along his, the bulge straining against the confines of his pants pressing against your aching cunt. you have only just begun to appreciate the feeling. you hands have only just started exploring uncharted territory.

"y/n." a tired voice calls from the staircase.

you are terrible.

you scramble off of nanami like he burns you, swiping spit from your mouth and trying to distance yourself.

nanami looks aghast. he tugs one of the pillows over his lap then hurriedly buttons his shirt. there is nothing he can do to hide his kiss swollen lips or the hickies you left.

he swallows the glass of whiskey as yua enters the living room. you stand immediately upon her entrance. she is rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"i was wondering where you went." she does not seem suspicious but the thought of how close you were to getting caught has your stomach churning. nanami cannot bring himself to look at his daughter as she draws closer.

"i was just." your hands are clammy with sweat "tasting some of your dad's whiskey." she pursues her lips.

"ew, don't drink that old man alcohol." she dramatically says with a disgusted expression. "let's go upstairs." she does not have to say it twice because you walk in that direction like you were awaiting a cue.

"night, dad." she calls and you faintly hear him say it back.

you wonder what he is thinking.

you lie next to yua with the feeling of kento's lips etched into yours.

---

nanami is avoiding you.

without a doubt.

the last time his stony eyes met yours was that night he so raptly kissed you.

the same night he told you he would not take back the things he said.

his actions show anything but that.

nanami does not stay in the room when you are around.

he picks yua and you up from university and he does not spare you a glance.

he does all those little things to create distance but he has not stopped asking you about your day. he has not stopped making sure you are okay.

that is why he is everything to you.

yua is not home but you are. you are at nanami's house like it is your own.

you are clad in a pink dress. one you have worn before, one kento has seen you in. you have the memory of his eyes roving over your figure before he looked away.

his eyes lingered on the fabric flowing around your thighs, and the exposed skin of your legs. he knew it was wrong.

you perk up when the door opens and he steps inside. his shirt is rolled up to his elbows, the tan material of his pants conform to his thick thighs, you are breathless. he stills for a moment when he sees you, glimpsing away as he slips off his shoes.

he slackens his tie as he walks towards the living room. your eyes focus on the way his forearm flexes. nanami is too handsome for his own good. you wonder if he knows just how attractive he is.

he pauses, focusing on your dress but he's more concerned with asking a question you have been longing to hear.

"are you doing okay?" he lowly mumbles. for the past few days he has not let you speak past saying you are fine.

he has not let you bind him up in your web like he knows you will if he spares you a few minutes of his time. if he hears your voice for long enough nanami is going to let the part of him aching to have you win.

"i'm not." your heart quickens when his concern etches over his features. his brows contort and his eyes grow alert.

"what's wrong?" he comes closer, you can hear it in his voice. how worried he is.

"everything." you have nanami wrapped around your finger.

he only comes closer and closer. "did something happen at home?" you do not answer him. he sits beside you, his hands reaching for yours.

"tell me if something happened."

your eyes trail over his expression, his straight nose and defined jawline, his pink lips and sunken cheeks.

how can you not like him?

you wonder if he can see how willing you are to give yourself to him. that you would let him have you anyway he wants. that you would do anything if it meant he would be yours.

nanami jerks when your hands pull away and you lower yourself onto your knees in front of him.

your fingers find the stiff muscle of his thighs and he tenses when you look up at him.

"what are you doing?" his voice is low, you can practically hear the forced restraint.

"there's something i've wanted to say to you." you bat your pretty lashes and nanami swears he is on the precipice of no control. he swears he is about to give into the sick and twisted part of him.

he can't do this. he can't let you in. even though every part of him is begging him to.

his jaw locks, he breathes an exasperated breath before pinching the bridge of his nose. "yn." he always says your name with such affection but right now you can find an ounce of it in his voice. "this can't happen. if you don't get over whatever this is, i'm going to make it hurt."

his voice is so stern, it makes your thighs press together and despite his effort to ward you off, your hands trail higher on the planes of his toned legs. you can feel the stiff bulging muscle beneath his khaki pants.

"then make it hurt."

nanami narrows his eyes.

"i know that it's wrong to want you but you make me feel okay. you're the only man who makes me feel safe, kento." his fingers ball into fists. you are pouring your heart out. "i know everything i feel for you, you feel for me too."

his gazes trails over you, nanami is being ripped to pieces and each of them are being crushed. he should not but he is looking at your lips. he is looking at them while they form every word and his thoughts are straying.

his thighs flex beneath your palms. nanami wonders what you are getting out of this beside wrecking him. besides witnessing him fall apart.

he does not say a word but he does not push you away and that is all you need to continue.

"and i can be anything you want." his jaw clenches so hard if aches as your eyes drop to the bulge impressing against his pants. "i only see you, i only want you. i can be your woman, kento." he swallows hard when you finish.

you hands trail further on his thighs, you can see his jaw clenching. he breathes harder.

"how?" his voice is low, it's hesitant like it's fighting to get out when he wants to stay mum.

"i'll get on my knees for you." you already are. you perched on your knees between his legs and all kento can think about is seeing what you would look like gagging on his cock. "i'll let you fuck me."

"you'll let me fuck you." he rolls the words around in his mouth. this is wrong, it is all so wrong. then, why does it feel so right? and why does he craving the feeling of your slick cunt wrapped around him rather than imagining it.

"how long have you wanted to tell me that?" he pauses, he cannot put together his words. he cannot form a coherent thought. "how long have you been waiting here... in that dress?"

nanami has thought about you in this dress more times than he would like to admit. his gaze weighs heavy on you. it is so intense you feel like shrinking away but you do not because this is nanami.

"i've wanted to say it since i met you." your voice comes out softly.

finally, finally he leans in. finally his large hand finds the strands of your hair and he comes closer. "you want to be my woman? then what should you do when you're in this position? what should you do when you're on your knees?"

you shiver at his words, a shaky hum vibrating through you. your back arches almost instinctively, your hands tightening on his thighs but they are so big and so tense you swear your grip is slipping.

"you'll open that mouth for me? you're going to part these pretty lips like you're begging me to stick something between them. won't you?"

"i will, kento." the way your body aches for him is far too intense. his cheek bones tighten at your agreement. at how easily you give in.

nanami wishes you would at least tell him no because he would leave you alone. you do not tell him no. you never do. it is like every time you ask him for more.

denying you is only getting harder.

his hand slips lower, grazing your neck and all you can think about is that he is touching you. he is touching you and you will think about it forever. you will memorise every line on his hand and every callous on it and keep it in your mind.

his biceps strain beneath his dress shirt, somehow, someway, he looks bigger when his hands are on you.

"tell me what you're opening your mouth for."

"your cock."

nanami grits his teeth. he has to close his eyes to gain some sort of composure.

your eyes trail over to his erection and you can clearly see it. the imprint is tight against his pants and begging for some relief. his cock begs for your attention.

his chest heaves. he shakes you by your nape to bring your attention to his face. where his glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose and his eyes are dark. where he looks too gorgeous.

"you can't have it."

your brows raise, your lips part and nanami wants to kiss you. he wants to feel your mouth on his again.

"why?" you think he will spew you the same story that this is wrong, that he cannot be with you and you know exactly why. you are not prepared for what he does say.

"because it's too big for you. it won't fit in this little mouth, you won't be able to suck it how i like. you can't." you shake your head in protest. you want to tell him that you can. you will.

"cause my cock is too thick and too long, for you. your hands won't be able to hold my cock properly, your fingers won't touch when you wrap around me. you think your mouth will? your little mouth can't take it, baby." he strokes your hair, his tone soft. "and you can't take it either. if i put my cock over this pretty face, it would touch your chin and go past your forehead with so much left. you can't take that so how will you be my woman?"

your mouth is full of sticky saliva and your panties are soaked. they are far from damp, in fact they are drenched with slick. your cunt pulses and your stomach is turning.

your entire body feels feverish.

"i can. i promise i will. i'll learn!" you are already salivating at the thought. "i know it's big, kento." why are you saying his name so salaciously? "but i just need to do it a few times and i'll be able to take it all."

his expression contorts in something you do not quite understand. his eyes are on your lips. like he can picture it already.

"you'll open your mouth whenever i want it? you'll suck my cock as many times as you need to get to the base? you'll let me stretch your lips even though it's too big for you and you can't handle it, until you can take every inch?"

your nails claw at his thighs, the air feels too thick to breathe.

you swear nanami has destroyed you.

you nod, a low whine in your throat.

"right. you'll suck my cock. it'll be so hard and so swollen. but you'll wrap that little mouth around it. you'll let me stuff it so full with my cock because i want to see it in your throat. i want to see how far it will reach because you want something that's too big for you. you can gag and drool and cry but all i'll care about is getting deep in this throat." nanami's hand grips your jaw, his thumb stroking over your lips that are damp with spit. "i know you'll be dripping everywhere, i know that pussy is going to make a mess between your legs while i take your mouth because she wants it too."

you are short circuiting. your brain has dissolved to mush and it is leaking from your ears. when he talks like that, how can you let go? how can you stay away?

"you're going to cry and i know you look so pretty when you cry. and you're going to try to get away when i have your lips wrapped around my cock. it's going to be so far in that tight throat, you won't be able to breathe, baby. all the spit dripping down your jaw and all the juice leaking from your cunt will mess up this pretty dress."

he is breathing so roughly, you can feel it hit your face, you can feel each huff.

you can see his chest heaving.

and you.

you are a mess. you are a catastrophic disaster. your pussy is sticky, no amount of clenching your thighs will rid you of the pulsating between your legs.

tears are leaking down your face and your mouth is webbed with saliva. you feel too hot, it washes over your entire body.

"you'll let me pump my cock into your mouth until i'm shooting cum in the back of this tight throat and you'll swallow every drop. won't you? you'll be good and drink it all down. you'll keep it in your belly, right?"

the whine you let out is whorish, it is so desperate. "i will, i will. i'll drink it all, i'll be good and take everything you give me."

nanami is angry, he is so angry.

"why are you agreeing with all the disgusting things i tell you?" he forces out through gritted teeth. his nose flares, his jaw is tight and fuck, he looks so sexy when he is mad.

your lips part but he does not let you speak. "do not let me talk to you like that. do not let me treat you like some slut because that's not what you are. understand me? the way i just spoke to you, never let someone speak that way again, not to you."

his hands gently coax through your hair. he is so gentle you want to melt. "i want you to go home and i want this to be the last time anything like this happens. that night and today, it can't happen again."

"i don't want to leave." you do not want to be away from him. it seems everything he tells you, goes in one ear and out the next.

"then i will." you swear you could cry when he releases you. you feel sick now that he is not touching you. you feel sick now that you cannot feel his fingers through your hair.

you stare up at him, silently begging for him to stay.

"i can't have sex with you." he lowly mutters.

"just once. once is enough." you are desperate. you grip at his thighs. truthfully, once would never suffice. you would never be content with having him once.

"who is it enough for? i'll have you once and that's it?"

all you want is to please him, all you want is to make him happy.

"then we can do it as much as you want!"

"do you hear yourself right now?" he forces out. nanami tugs off his glasses to swipe his hand over his face. you hold his arm but the second he stands you lose your grip.

you cannot truly stop nanami despite wanting to.

"i want you to remember this. i hope you remember that i turned my back on you and i walked away. that's happened to you before, right?" there is no conviction in his voice but your body tenses where you are still perched on your knees.

you really just might cry.

been thinking abt this nanami for a whileee

[22ayla21]

Daddy's Peculiarity

Mydei always loved both of his children equally, but when his youngest daughter got fangs like his, it became obvious - she was Daddy's princess.

The evening was quiet, and the house was filled with a rare peace. After a long day full of fuss and children's pranks, the long-awaited moment of respite had finally arrived. Their son had long since fallen asleep in his room, curled up in a ball in a blanket, but the youngest daughter, although she looked tired, was in no hurry to part with wakefulness. She had settled comfortably in her mother's arms, lazily sucking on the corner of her blanket.

Mydei was sitting opposite, in a chair, with his legs stretched out and one hand on the armrest. His usually tense face was relaxed, and a rare expression of calm warmth shone in his gaze. Only here, in the family circle, did he allow himself to be like this. Watching his daughter, he felt his chest fill with something unusually warm, an almost unusual feeling for him.

And suddenly his wife laughed quietly. He raised an eyebrow, turning his gaze to her.

- What?

She covered her mouth with her hand, but her eyes sparkled with pure, unadulterated amusement.

- Just look, - she said, turning the baby so that her face was in the soft candlelight.

Mydei frowned, but still leaned closer. The girl yawned widely, reaching out to her mother with a small hand... and then he saw it. Two tiny fangs, barely noticeable, but already quite distinct among the other teeth.

He blinked, not immediately realizing what he saw.

- Well, well, - he muttered more quietly than usual, involuntarily lowering his head a little closer.

His wife laughed again, this time without holding back, and lightly stroked her daughter’s cheek.

- Now I understand why you spoil her so much, - she grinned, casting a sly glance at him. - She’s your exact copy.

Mydei shook his head, but the corners of his lips twitched in a slight, almost imperceptible smile. He looked at his daughter again, noting how much she really resembled him. Red hair, just like his, slightly curly. Deep golden eyes, which so far reflected only childish curiosity and innocence. And now these little fangs…

- But our son doesn’t have anything like that, - his wife continued, squinting slyly. He glanced at the door, behind which their firstborn had long since been peacefully sleeping, and thoughtfully ran his tongue over his own fangs.

- Maybe he just took more from you? - he suggested, not taking his eyes off his daughter.

- Maybe, - she admitted, shrugging, but still with the same cheerful sparkle in her eyes. - But you know… if anyone hasn’t realized yet that she’s daddy’s princess, it’s obvious now.

Mydei didn’t answer, but only looked closely at his daughter again, who was already beginning to nod off in her mother’s arms. He carefully extended his hand, and when his fingers barely touched her tiny palm, she weakly squeezed his finger in her sleep.

His wife watched this scene with a soft smile, but said nothing. Mydei, frowning, grabbed her tiny hand a little tighter, as if giving himself another second to remember this moment.

Yes, he knew it himself. She was daddy’s princess. And for her sake - for the sake of his family - he was ready to wipe into dust anyone who dared to encroach on this small, precious world that he had built with his own hands.

[whimsicalwritingfeline]

Softening Armor

I am so tired, but I have dedicated myself to one fic a day (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭ so eat well my children!!!

Disclaimer: This is like an everyone-is-alive au? The official trailers......I just can't .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·. I need everyone to be in a place where they are happy. So they're all demigods but WITHOUT the fighting or trauma. Take it as a uhhh......succession kinda thingy like Janus did with Tribios where they just gave their coreflame to her. Now enjoy!!! (๑>؂•̀๑)

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

The halls echoed the clanging from the new king's armor. Yet he remained careful as to not make too much noise, lest it awoke his beloved that rested in the royal chambers.

He made his way to his wife-now his queen-to come cuddle sleep together with his wife. The female Kremnoan solider whom he positioned as his wife's personal guard looked up as she took him in, carefully analyzing him to make sure it was him and not some doppelgänger who was on his way to assassinate their benevolent queen.

Once she confirmed it was their revered king, she bowed as she allowed him to pass through the doors.

"Is the queen asleep?" he demanded.

"She had retired to the chambers moments ago, your Majesty. She had also ordered for a change of clothes, and I haven't heard from her since."

He hummed in acknowledgement as he crossed the guard to step into his and his queen's shared space.

He walked past the small study and library he had built upon the insistence of his queen, a tranquil haven for the both of them.

As he entered the bedroom, his shoulders visibly relaxed from the tense posture they were in the whole day.

There she was, bundled in layers of blankets and pillows. His beloved queen.

He approached side gently and quietly, despite knowing his wife would sleep even if Nikador were to be reborn and wreck havoc onto Castrum Kremnos and Okhema again.

He removed one of his gauntlets to pet her soft hair, gently moving them away from her face. He didn't dare to rouse her from her rest, knowing she was the one handling all internal affairs of the city.

If he doesn't wake her up now, she would get angry at him tomorrow for not letting her know when he has arrived. How could he, when she slept like an earth-bound angel? (albeit, drooling a bit perhaps due to her deep sleep)

Alas his wish to let his wife sleep more was shattered as her eyes fluttered open, her drowsy gaze falling on his imposing figure.

"You're back." She drawled on, barely getting the words past her yawn.

Times like these is then Mydei has an uncontrollable urge to take her cheeks and squish them as hard as he could. Of course, he wouldn't hurt her, although the urge to squeeze her to show her how much he adored her was ever present.

"Are you having cuteness aggression towards your own wife, Mydei?" Aglaea asks him as she measures his arm for a new pair of gauntlets. "Tch, we do not have that word in the Kremnoan language," he casually brushed it aside, "also it is not I who is at fault here, it completely her fault for being........" "Irresistible?" the demigod of Romance chuckled as she amuses herself with teasing the new demigod of Strife. Tribbie, who's nearby, peeks their head in the fitting room, their mouth full of the apple tarts Mydei had just cooked for them as a reward. "Oh De~" they say, "You cannot possibly hide your affections in front of the literal god of Romance!!"

His queen emerges from her blanket cocoon, immediately crawling into his arms to seek the lost warmth from the blankets. "You came earlier than expected, I would've asked the maids to-"

He shushed her with his bare hand as he used his teeth to undo the straps off of his other one. His armor was custom built, and strong. Aglaea made sure it was as comfortable as it was sturdy. He was grateful for it, of course.

Although, in times like these, all he wished is that she had made them more easy to remove.

He dropped the other gauntlet to the floor of their bedroom, now using both his hands to steady his wife onto his lap with both his hands now.

"i am back from war, Wife. Will you not be so kind as to reward me with your presence?"

A partially asleep you looks at him, still wondering whether this was your Mydei, your king, or a dream you had decided to indulge in due to missing him so much.

As if hearing your thoughts, the King of Kremnos tightened his grip on your waist, snapping you out of your daze.

"I requested a reward from you, my Queen." He claimed as he moved you closer to his broad chest.

"Mhm. Heard you." You said as your voice muffled into his chest. "i am just....very sleepy to fulfill your wish at the moment Mydei."

Realizing this wasn't the moment to get coddled, or coddle his own wife, he pushed her away from his chest, kissing her lips gently.

'The word coddle doesn't exist in the Kremnoan Dictionary' he had to remind himself. But who cared what the Dictionary contained?

He pulled away, softly pecking your lips again. "Alright then," he whispered, rubbing at your arms to warm them where they were exposed to the nightly chill, "I shall settle with this for now. Although, you must promise that you will accompany me to breakfast tomorrow and take the day off."

"Mhm, I promise. Just......let's sleep now. I missed you." You mumbled as Mydei tried to get both of you back onto your blanket cocoon.

With a brief kiss to your lips, and a peck to your temple, he gathered you in his arms, surrounding you in his warmth, scent, strength and his everthing.

Mydei didn't say a word of how he missed you. But the way he had removed his armor and embraced your form tightly, as if even the nightmares of his subconscious would steal you away, spoke a thousand.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷

I am so so so eepy and tired, realizing I might've self-projected here, but what gal ain't eepy and tired (っ˕ -｡)ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 However I refuse to sleep without uploading something ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

I will take tomorrow off my elves, I have a test to study for ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! I WILL be back to writing as soon as I can though!! So keep em requests coming!!

Not beta read. I am running on pure caffeine and sheer willpower rn ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

© 2024-2025 whimsicalwritingfeline all rights reserved.

[doiliedaze]

The First Taste

Warnings: vampire! sev, church singer! reader, sev was turned in 1632 & she’s permanently stuck at 35 physically, age gap (duh), reader is 27, takes place in Georgia 1932, blood, Christianity mentions but not too much, reader is a widow, mean! sev, fear play, vampire turning, Sevika masturbates to sleeping reader, Sevika touches reader while she sleeps, fingering (r! receiving), they fuck with blood on Sevika, murder, blood play, messy make out, spit swallowing (r! receiving), tribbing, I think that’s it I might’ve missed some

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

A/n: first off omggg thank you dolls for supporting me I can’t believe there’s 407 of y’all!! When I mention Sevika sinking her teeth into readers brown skin I don’t mean it in the sense that reader is a brown skin black woman just that she is a black women in general; I don’t want to be skin tone specific so any black girl can see herself 👌🏿okay so obviously I watched Sinners and there’s no female smoke so boom here we are! And although I love how the sinners vampires work I also love how TVD vampires work so due to jewelry vampires can be in the sun!

THIS IS A DARK FIC; IF THE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE PLEASE DONT READ YOUVE BEEN WARNED!!!

───────┈ · ·

Just. That’s how you’ve always been described. It’s a term you’ve built yourself upon. To be just is to value and upkeep fairness.

It’s something your mother called you when you were just a wee little thing.

You grew up in the church and that’s where you met your two first loves. Singing and Loretta.

Singing was natural to you. The type of voice you have isn’t something to be ignored! It landed you a spot front and center in the church choir! Singing is the only way you truly knew how to communicate…it’s also how you communicated to your Loretta outside of the stolen glances and swift hand holds.

Loretta was very business savvy and by the time she was 22, she had a booming restaurant! Of course you helped out where you could and it kept y’all close. So close y’all had your secret wedding in the basement.

Life felt almost perfect. Until she got sick. Loretta fought hard and long but after two years you lost your soulmate. The two of you lived together so you moved out to the country. The restaurant was left to be run by her brother.

Nothing felt like home anymore. When everyone suspected your friendship was more you stopped singing at the church and you couldn’t bare to be in that restaurant; it was filled with her essence.

Although you’re in a depression, you always found a way to create peace. Whether it’s making bird houses or tending to the foxes that sleep under your porch.

You headed off to sleep early when you felt a chill in the air. It wasn’t unusual considering it's September but the way your body shook was.

After a quick look around and the animals staying silent you laid down to drift asleep. If only you knew she was watching.

Sevika eyes scanned your sleeping figure. Infatuation is filling her chest and testing her impulses. How many times she’s wanted to approach you and get invited in your home but she knew that her timing has to be right.

Sevika has been traveling this world for centuries; three to be exact. Her goal at this point is to find peace, a slice of home.

You remind her of everything good in the world. Taking care of woodland creatures, donating the fruit you grow, watching you deny yourself pleasure but seeing how bad you want it!

Being a vampire especially for as long as Sevika’s been one can make you quite…eccentric!

Of course she knows right from wrong and this was teetering in being wrong—but she can’t help but let her fingers slide into her pants and play with her fat clit. Her middle and ring finger moving south to enter her dripping cunt.

She created a routine around you. Can’t even hunt until she’s touched herself. A little pathetic but she’s nothing if not devoted!

Her carnal needs to graze your heavy breast with her fangs and for her mouth to leave bites on your brown skin.

The speed of her fingers increases, and her snarls turn into pleading whimpers as she reaches her climax. Her breath fanning the window and her fingers pressing against the glass. The thought of you at her mercy, her clit rubbing against yours as she holds your face, the look you'd give her as you cum.

Her chest heaves in sharply as her climax settles. With her hunger for you somewhat satisfied she goes on a hunt.

Two days pass and you are tending to your apple tree when your ladder wobbles under you! Trying to balance yourself you fall, but you don't hit the ground?

The scream that erupted from your chest kept going even as you look at the women who saved you. Annoyed she dropped you and you groan slightly in pain.

"Who are you?" you huff

"I don't get a thank you?" she says with a small smile, "not when you are a stranger on my property!” You retort, but before you could stand up she squatted to your level.

“I wasn’t trying to scare you, you see I’m traveling and I was passing through till I could find somewhere to stay.”

Something in your gut stirs at her explanation but you push it to the side. “Traveling from where?”

“From New Hampshire, had a pal who owed me over there.” She says flatly, but there was a gleam over her eyes and all your inquiries went away.

Your mind felt a bit fuzzy after your stare down and all your questions dies on your tongue. “So is it alright if I come in? Would that bother your husband?”

The idea of you being married to a man snaps you out your daze. “I don’t have a husband.” You say quickly as her eyes look at your ringed finger, she whispers an I see.

“Then would your…partner feel an imposition with me being here?” Her lips were all your eyes could focus on as she drawls her sentence. Something about her bring up all your danger signals but it also calms you…might just be your pussy thinking.

“She wouldn’t mind, her being dead and all.” Finally you rise and so does she. Her broad built blocks the sun from pouring down on you. Softly you cease the creases in your dress as you tell her she can come in.

Your words flow to Sevika like music in her ears. Once the two of you step inside and she takes a look around she extends her hand. “The names Sevika, you?”

You stop at her introduction, “Sevika?” there was a moment in time when you swore you’d hear that name in your dreams but never could understand why?

“Is there a problem?” She says as she rest her hand on your shoulder. The touch snaps you out your thoughts; the second time today, maybe you need some water you think.

“I’m fine I just…must be dehydrated is all.” You show her where she’d be sleeping. “My room is down the hall from yours so if you need anything I’ll be there.”

That evening you gave her space to adjust and she never came out for dinner despite you knocking on the door five times.

Little do you know she’s out hunting to make sure she doesn’t lose her control around you.

You heard her return when you went to lay your head on your pillow. Out of curiosity you slipped out of bed, your satin pink night gown slinking to you as you do.

Tip-toeing through the hall you peep down the staircase to see—nothing? Thinking you must’ve misheard the noises for her you head back to your room after you bump right into her chest.

To steady yourself, you grip her visible arm not daring to touch her poncho knowing how she is sensitive about her arm.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” Sevika states flatly with a tinge of strain in her voice. “What were you doing?” You question as you move to stand against the opposing wall.

“Needed to feel the night air. Can’t sleep if I don’t walk.”

“Why didn’t you answer the door when I knocked?”

“You ask everyone this many questions mhm?”

“Just the avoidant ones” you quip as your breathe shutters caught under her sharpening gaze. “Wasn’t hungry, goodnight” she says curtly before heading to her room.

Curiosity was vibrating through your whole body but you kept it to yourself, for now at least.

You left all your questions in the back of your mind for a month. Sevika started to warm up to you. Help you in the garden, even cooked with you once but left when you cut your wrist by accident. Funny thinking a woman like that is squeamish!

The two of you would enjoy solitude together, a nice day reading a book on the porch. However it was the same every night. She wouldn’t eat dinner with you, go on her walk then straight to her room before telling you a soft goodnight and gracing you with a gaze.

Her moments of being hot and cold didn’t help the numerous dreams you had of her. The more time pass the more lewd the dreams are. Tonight your brain wonders how it would feel to be ravished by her. Her tongue on yours, her fingers thrusting in and out of your needy cunt. For her to leave bruises in areas only she’d see, to moan her name and it brand the walls.

As you stir in your sleep you whimper her name. Sevika's ear twitches as she picks up your subconscious calls. Sevika paces in her room before mindlessly walking to the door. She’s been so patient and she’s this close to taking what’s hers.

Fuck it. Sticking with her pattern of bad decisions, she walks into your room quietly.

Her eyes rake over your figure as you stir in bed. Forehead light with sweat, bonnet lost in your pillows, nipples harden and legs tangled in your sheets. The most beautiful thing she’s seen in her 300 years.

Softly she spreads your legs, lifts your gown to your hips and stares at your exposed pussy. She has come to learn you love the semi-nude, as you’ve expressed it to her when the two of you looked over your sketches.

The sweetest bush is staring at her and it’s begging to be taken care of! At least that’s what she’s telling herself.

Her knee softly indents your bed as she settles inbetween your thighs. Her lips press a soft kiss against your clit and she can feel it twitch against her and she let out a snarl.

Her tongue twist around your pearl as her middle finger submerges into your pussy. Quickly Sevika looked up to see if she’s stirred you and she hadn’t. As she pushed in her ring finger your pussy squelch and your breathe hicks.

Her tongue catches a dribble of your wetness before it falls onto your bed. The slightest taste of you turned her brain off.

Holding in her moans she slowly thrust her fingers as she could feel your senses elevate. Her tongue slides into your pussy, a still figure to contrast her moving fingers.

Your heart races in your sleep and your body stirs as your breathing hitches. You’re waking up.

Sevika moans a fuck against you and pulls away. Quickly she fixes your dress and in an moment she’s in her bed.

Her chest heaves as her mind races. Your perfection and she craves more. Her fingers find their way to her sticky underwear, and they slide underneath them to tend to her throbbing clit. The thought of your juices mixing with her creamy pussy sent her into overdrive.

That morning was awkward to say the least. You’re praying she doesn’t find out you had a wet dream about her and she praying you didn’t realize she was there.

The awkwardness led to clumsiness and you two bumping into each other as y’all set the table. When she catches you, her instinct was to hold you close alas all she allows herself to do is to relish in your scent.

"Could you sleep?" you whisper looking at her lips. There was nothing shy about your gaze.

"Don't look at me like that" was the hardest sentence Sevika ever muttered. "Like what?" you tease looking up at her batting those pretty lashes.

The dreams, hearing her name before, the way you met all of it had to be a sign for something? Love became a distant notion after Loretta died, maybe this could be your second shot at it!

She's the one who's been telling you that if you want something go after it! Why not apply it to her?

"I'm not someone you play with." "Who said I'm play Sev?" Frustrated she sighs and sits down for breakfast, "eat" she orders.

"What if I don't want to?"

"Eat your fucking food and stop being a brat." Her glare was sharp and struck some fear into your chest but some heat to your cunt.

Quickly and silently, you sat down and ate your food.

The leading days have been a test of both of y'all restraint. The sly touches or the comments that could mean something else starting to drive Sevika insane and the fight she has to not engage in your seduction.

She wants you; there's no denying that, but she wants you her way.

For you to know what she is but she has to know it won't scare you away. Sevika has seen you deal with dead things and can gauge it doesn't bother you in the sense of fear. However it makes you cry, she wouldn't know what to do with herself if you cried because of her.

As November is coming to an end the town was throwing a fall festival. The two of you haven't gone into a town in a while you were going to ask her if she wants to go to the markets!

You knock on her door, and she didn't answer. Odd? Sure, its late but this isn't her hours of solitude? So, you move and you search for her outside already knowing she isn't downstairs.

Something in the air feels off as you start to get frantic. Sevika has only been around for almost four months, but those months of company have felt like a new lifetime compared to those five years of isolation.

Slowly you enter your backyard and there you see her. The moonlight was shining on her as she was feasting on your nearest neighbor's wife. Her back was hunched, and she was snarling as she was draining her. Your breath was lost in your throat and your stomach twists.

Backing away you accidently step on a twig. It's naive to think she didn't already know you were there. She could smell your sweet perfume in the howling wind.

Her large figure rises from the sunken corpse and slowly turns to you. Hair was falling onto her face and her sad eyes widen. Although your far she reaches her hand out. "Listen it's not what you think" she pleads as she slowly approaches you. The blood stained her from her chin to her waist. If you weren't riddle with the urge to run you would've vomited.

Anything grounding you relinquished as your feet lifted underneath you. The movements of your hands resemble a tornado as you scurry for a knife. When looking out the window, she's nowhere to be seen. However, you hear her taunt, "it's not nice to run from your friends y/n."

The voice is like an echo in your head with no real placement. The tears were starting to brim your eyes, but you fought them as you tip toed through the house. When you felt like you were in the clear you went back outside. Sure, she's some freak of nature vampire but you've learned these woods for the past five years!

For ten whole minutes nothing happen as you waited deep in the woods. The burn in your ears stopped as you realize you hear nothing—not one animal. Fear settles in your stomach once more as it dawns on you; it's 2 am, animals have left the woods, you're an hour on foot from your home and you're in heels.

"Can we talk please?" she whispers in your ear. Your body viscerally shakes when her hand snakes around your waist. Immediately you take off and when you look back at her she looks so disappointed.

Instantly you find yourself on the ground and the wind knocked outta ya. Her boot meets your chest to keep you still and from reaching the knife two inches away from your fingertips.

"Listen doll I was gonna tell ya, but how do you bring this up?" She emphasizes pointing at the blood. "We can have this conversation here or we can be civil and go back ho-"

You cut her off by stretching your arm out and gripping the knife. With all your strength you wedge it into her ankle and take it out to lodge it into her knee!

Sevika lets out a monstrous howl of pain and moves her leg away from you to take out the knife.

Scrambling to your feet, you take off and don't look back. Home is too far but you know a short cut from here to town!

Not even two minutes pass before she grabs you by your hair and slings you to the ground. You roll in pain holding your aching scalp that you don't realize your cheek has a cut on it.

She leans over you, any sadness and remorse she had gone. Her thumb rubs your cut, and she moans at the taste of your blood. "Please don't kill me" you whimper as you weakly put your hand against her shoulder.

"I'd never could...I didn't even want to hurt you, but you ran." Your stomach burns at the sight of her. Hair sticking to her forehead, eyebrows tense, blood smeared on her face; she's never looked more beautiful to you.

She doesn’t say a word and wipes tears you didn't know were falling.

Would it be just to assume she was some sort of horrible creature because she's a vampire? Do these moments negate the months you've gotten to know her? You have showed her some things you never showed Loretta! That has to mean something. If you never saw what you saw, you'd be at the festival with her, something you haven't partook in for three years.

Love comes in many forms and maybe this is yours...

Shakily your hands find her face and you whisper a barely audible okay.

"You'll let me have you?"

"For eternity"

That's all she needs to hear before her lips found yours. The kiss is slow and pathetic. Hands not knowing where to stay.

Her lips were cold, until now it never dawned on you how cold she is. Sevika was melting against you not remembering something so warm. It almost felt wrong to know she won't feel it again.

The kiss hastens as you let her tongue in your mouth. Some of the blood on her chin smearing onto you. The cold blood drips down your chin to the valley of your breast. Her tongue leaves your mouth to lick up the blood. Before she could swallow you whisper "share."

Who is she to deny her woman? She lets the blood drip off her tongue and fall onto yours. She stares deep into your eyes as she watches you swallow the mixture of her spit and the blood.

Without another thought Sevika rips your clothes off you, the coldness immediately hitting your nipples. Sevika kept up with every mental promise she made herself. Her teeth grazing your bountiful breast as her finger move quickly to curl in your pussy.

The night sky is filled with your whines and whimpers. Your abused pussy squeezing around her thick fingers chasing your fifth climax. She can't help but torture you, the faces and noises you make are hypnotic.

"Need to feel you" you cry out in a way that makes her clit throb. Sevika's fingers leave you gaping and dripping. Hurriedly she takes her pants and underwear off and places her creamy pussy against yours.

Her clit rubs on your puffy pearl. The moans mindlessly flow out of your raw throats. The mixture of y'all cum drip onto the floor of the woods and the moon leaves the two of you in your shared darkness.

It didn't take long for your hips to stagger and needing her hands to hold your shaking hips. It almost hurts to rub your clit against hers but it's a pain you'll take if it makes you feel like this.

Sevika straightens her back to get a better grip on your hips, angling them upwards. You gasp for air as you feel her cunt slam against yours.

The veil of darkness is cut but the glow in Sevika's eyes. Maybe it's the need to be wanted forever or maybe it's the ecstasy but you tell her, "Take me, change me please!"

Her hand drops from her hip, and she presses her body on top of yours, her thrust staggering as she's close.

Sevika seeps her fangs into your inviting neck. Her eyes shine a sickening crimson red, and she climaxes against you.

The pain and pleasure are overwhelming as you climax alongside her. You could feel your body shake with fever as the venom seeps into your bloodstream. Quickly Sevika gets off of you and holds your hand as you grow cold.

Just. That's how you've always been described. You value fairness and making the best choices despite how hard things can be. This time around your soul is free to be in love and that feels fair enough to you.

───────┈ · ·

A/n: might be my favorite one yet ٩( ᐛ )و I really loved sinners it was a gorgeous movie and I hope y’all enjoy this fic as much as I did! I really missed making super detailed stories so my next couple post will be surrounding that, probably more supernatural/fantasy ones too! Love you dolls! Recently a couple blogs I follow on my main blog have been interacting with my stories and I get so giddy seeing it໒꒰ྀི ˃ ᵕ ˂ ꒱ྀི১

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian @furrytaesss @milanyas @highnfemme @5seos @artemisdreamfairie @ellabswife

Dividers- @notaorbital

[writing-mlm]

The line we toe

Summary: Why can’t you ever just have Clark? Why is there always a reason he’s only there in your memories and why did he have to ruin your birthday? Pairing: Clark Kent x NFL!Male reader Wc: 14.5k tags: hurt/comfort, not enough Clark groveling IMO, handjobs (r receiving and giving), needy!Clark, dry humping, reader is also a witch, religion but its not negative, homophobia but its a misunderstanding

If there’s something small towns were known for it's their churches. They held out hope for their religion, spending every weekend in their Sunday best, listening to the preacher go on for hours. But Smallville was different, it always had been. 

Church for the town wasn’t some big event where you come in button-ups, slacks, and polished shoes. Most dressed however they pleased, saving their good clothes for special events. It didn’t go on for hours, one and a half at most. It also wasn’t every weekend, although the priest always went, no one was shunned for not going. No one spoke in whispers because they missed their Sunday service. 

But for most, the service provided the calm that they needed. When business got tough, when the farms didn’t provide enough crops, and things seemed bleak, the pews filled townsfolk. 

You sat in the front, messing with the cross on your rosary as your father preached. Your mother and sister sit next to you; your mother's floor floor-length black dress sweeps over your shoes and her white lace gloves holding your free hand. You don’t know what he’s saying, you never have but you don’t like being alone in your home

so you go to church with them. 

Your connection with God isn’t one you understand through words or through the scripture. It’s more… Flyleaf’s All around me than shouting and claiming you can hear someone speaking to you. Your faith is one to yourself but you can appreciate the church's amens and their hymns. Admittedly you like the hymns, even if they’re different from the ones you’re used to, often lacking the umph you’re used to in New Orleans. 

When church ends, you stand with your mother and find him in the crowd of people deciding if they want to leave or talk to your father. You find him easily, standing with his parents as they head out of the church, smiling as he talks to one of the older men about helping with their yard. Clark Kent. You’d always been drawn to him, somehow you’ve always been in the same class as him. He’s always the first person you see at school. 

Ducking your head, you grab ahold of your sister and head outside through the back door. The field behind the church has a small playground that she and the other kids tended to frequent during and after service. It’s nothing elaborate. A sandpit, swings, a jungle gym, a seesaw. Your father and uncle had built it one summer after he noticed some of the families couldn’t have a good time when their kids wouldn’t sit. 

“Good,” Your older brother groans as you get close. “I’ve had to piss for an hour!” While he heads inside, you see Clark getting into the family truck. His eyes catch yours and he smiles, giving you a small wave. You wave back, your hand barely higher than your hip as the truck pulls off. His blue eyes imprinted into your mind and his smile—

Holding your cross again, you stop the bubbling feeling in your stomach. Instead, you focus your attention onto the kids playing until it’s time to go home. 

At home, your parents start dinner while you finish up your homework. Your brother runs his drills in the backyard while your sister watches, he gives her a whistle so she can feel useful but you think she likes the power the whistle holds. 

“Hey, hun,” Your father enters your room and you look up from your textbook, the cross falling from your fingers and into your chest. “Dinners ready if you are.” He holds onto the doorknob as he smiles. Outside of church, he’s relaxed, more often than not he’s walking around in a white tank and old sweatpants that are probably older than you are. 

“Okay,” Getting up, you see your mother calling in your brother and sister, rushing him into the shower. He runs past you, nearly knocking you down the stairs and you hold onto the banister, glaring up at him. Feeling the cold metal against your fingertips, you continue into the dining room.

The table isn’t set yet, your mother is finishing up her tarot reading and your father is adding the final touches to the dish. Your mother tsks as she flips the final card, the reversed death. She holds the deck in her right hand and you watch as the cards fly into place before it zooms through the house and into the barn. 

It’s probably some lame joke. A priest and a witch getting married on a rainy day. But by the way your father wears her protection spell jar you know their love isn’t a joke. 

She smiles at you, the tension in her face dropping as you help your father set the table. The placements find their spots as you carefully recite the spell, your sister watches through giggles, touching the sparkles that encase your spells. “You’re getting better,” She smiles, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Remind me to add more spells to your grimoire.” You nod and settle down in your seat. When your brother comes down from the shower, everyone starts to eat. 

“I think I’ll make quarterback this year,” Your brother announces as he piles the chicken alfredo onto his plate. He’s mostly been a running back but he thinks being a QB in his final year will help with scholarships. Besides, he’s been encouraging you to be the running back but football isn’t really your thing. But you’ll try out to make him happy. 

“I don’t doubt you,” Your father grabs the garlic bread bowl and takes out two pieces. “Hey, why don’t you and your brother run through old plays before school tomorrow? Get him ready for the season.”

“Sure,” Looking at your brother, you wonder if it’s illegal for someone his size to be a quarterback for a high school team. 

—

“Hey, you okay?” Clark catches up to you as you rub your shoulder on your way to your shared first period. You nod, still rubbing it. Tracing sigils, you feel the pain starting to go away.

“I was running drills with Angel,” You explain. “He wants me to try out for the football team.” Clark smiles at that and you look away from him, grabbing your cross again. 

“You should. I bet you’d make the team.” The way his voice carries such hope, not an inch of taunt in it makes you sick. That stupid feeling in your stomach rises again. “I’m actually the assistant coach for the team.” He continues when you don’t say anything, the awkward pauses feeling like torture for him. You probably shouldn’t try and make the team, then. 

You stare at your classroom door as the halls clear out, not knowing what to say. “Cool, I guess I’ll see you during tryouts.” He smiles, walking away with a pep in his step. Watching him leave, you tear your eyes away as the bell rings. Still fumbling with your rosary, you enter the classroom as the lights in the hallway blow out, sparks flying about. 

Sinking into your seat, the teacher checks the hallway and rushes to pull the fire alarm. Apparently one of the sparks had caught onto a banner that quickly spread to the other posters and banners. 

“Way to go,” Angel punches your shoulder as everyone stands in the parking lot. “Totally missing out on a test cause of this,” Out of three children you’re the only one to have manifested powers. It’s a gene that skips a kid every time and you picked the winning straw by being born second, lucky you.

In the corner, you see Clark covering his ears as the fire alarms continue to blast and the fire trucks approach. He has to walk away, still plugging his ears as the sirens only get louder. No one else notices, watching as the fire ravages what you think is the math room for 11th grade. You haven’t even had that class yet and you destroyed it. Great. 

As far as first days go, this isn’t the worst. Classes still continue and you’re eventually dragged to tryouts by Angel. He forces you into the gear and lugs you the whole way to the field. Coach and Clark are standing next to each other, Clark’s eyes light up when he sees your heels dragging into the turf. 

“Hey, rosary!” Coach calls and you stand up straight, grabbing the rosary you’d tucked into the pants of the uniform. “Give it here, the boys will rip it apart.” Nodding, you hesitate before giving it to him. The cold metal slips from your fingers and you’re suddenly antsy. Bouncing between the balls and heels of your feet, your eyes dart across the field. 

Older kids play tackle each other and toss the football between themselves. Your brother talks with his friends and the freshmen awkwardly stand to the side. You don’t have any football friends, but you know them through your brother. “Rosary, get on the field!” Rushing over to your brother, the coach laughs while Clark offers you an apologetic look. 

Coach runs a test game and you stand behind Angel, wiping your hands on the pants before the ball flies to him. You run ahead and he tosses the ball at you, catching it, you look for a second before you remember. Running back. You gotta run and he points in the direction you go as the others head towards you. You manage a couple of yards before you’re eventually tackled to the ground. Your head bounces and your teeth clamp together as you roll onto your back. 

“Hey, need a hand?” Clark asks when your eyes open. Accepting his hand, he pulls you up and you stumble forward. He catches you with a chuckle. “That was good, you have a good chance of getting on the team.” That’s not what you wanted to hear, but your brother clasps his hands on your shoulder and cheers. According to the others, you made it a good distance. 

Try-outs continue for another hour before it’s time to go home. Your brother takes a shower first but you’re not so sure you want to shower with a bunch of men and get in the bed of your dad's pickup truck. While you’re waiting, Clark rushes over and leans on the edge. 

“Uh, between us, you made the team.” He smiles and then shakes his head. “But I came here to ask if you wanted to come to a Soul Asylum concert? Me, Pete, and Lana are going. Thomas was gonna go but he got grounded and I noticed the patch on your bag.”

Lana. His girlfriend. The thought makes your throat tight and you cough into your fist. “Um… I’ll have to ask my parents. But… I’ll let you know what they say.” 

“Cool… er… here, take my number.” He digs through his bag for a piece of paper and one, scribbling the house number to the Kent’s on it before folding it and handing it to you. “It’s next weekend, we’re meeting at Lana’s at six.” Taking the paper, you thank him and watch him leave. As he’s running away, your brother runs over and slaps the side of the truck. 

“Pop! He’s totally making the team.” Angel climbs into the truck, his praise dying as the door slams shut. The truck starts and you jerk as it moves forward. Riding in the bed isn’t anything new, your father even built-in handlebars for when people do. You catch your father looking back at you after every turn, making sure you’re still on the truck. 

When he parks the truck, you head upstairs to take a shower before joining your family in the living room. Your mother is wrapping her sage bundles and you happily join her as you talk about school. 

“Oh, Clark Kent invited me to a Soul Asylum concert,” The smile that graces your face makes your mother smile. “It’s next Saturday and they’re meeting at Lana Lang’s place at six. I think Pete Crushing is going to drive.” Your parents exchange glances for a minute, their conversation unknown to you and Angel.

“Okay.” Your father nods. “No drinking, no drugs, and you’re tending to the farm this weekend.” The farm has a variety of crops and an apiary with nearly a thousand bees, it’s mainly so your mother and you have easy access to materials for spells and such. Agreeing to the terms, you shake on it and you’re off to your room. 

—

At five forty, you make it to the Lang’s place inside of the town. Your mother does a quick protection spell over you and slips a protection sigil into your jacket pocket before you’re able to leave. She didn’t tell you at the time but she’d done a reading for the night and something was going to go wrong. But she knew you were going to be okay, so she still let you go. 

“Hello,” Clark and Lana are waiting in front of her place. They’re holding hands and your jaw tightens at the sight. “I’m glad you could make it.” 

“Had a weekend of farm work, but yeah.” Laughing, you join them and wait for Pete to arrive. The whole time the two giggle at each other and you try your best to ignore it, messing with your rosary. 

“Oh, right. Congrats on making the team,” Lana smiles over at you. “Clark says you’re an amazing running back. Must run in the family, right?” 

“Yeah,” A car pulls up and you nearly sigh in relief when it’s Pete. You take the passenger seat at their insistence and listen to the latest Soul Asylum album. It’s nice. And when you get to the venue Lana runs ahead, already scanning her ticket. 

“Right, here you go,” Clark hands you the spare ticket, his fingers brushing against your own. You snatch your hand away and thank him. He just smiles and meets up with Lana, leaving you with Pete. You get it, they’re a couple.

After the concert, you’re drifting off against the window when the car swerves off of the main road. You shout, gripping your seatbelt when you see that Pete had outright knocked out behind the wheel. The car careens and you close your eyes, scrambling for a spell and haphazardly spitting one out. Feeling yourself on the grass, you open your eyes and see the car smush in a ditch, Lana and Pete waking up beside you and Clark rising to his feet. 

A car stops and you turn, seeing it's a state trooper radioing for an ambulance and backup. Clark explains what’s happening as you grip your cross, heart beating out of your chest. The car is wrecked beyond recognition, tipped over, and bent under its own weight. 

When the ambulance and another cop come, you’re all driven back to Smallville where your mother is waiting on the porch with a blanket and cup of warm tea. 

“Hello, ma’am,” The cop nods his head. “Your son was in an accident coming back from a concert. Glad to report there are no injuries.” She pretends to be shocked as she pulls you in for a hug, stroking the top of your head. 

“Thank you, officer,” He nods and leaves, taking Clark back to the Kent’s farm. “Hun, are you okay?” Nodding, she checks on the protection charm and finds that it’s cracked. It did its job, good. “Come on. I made you grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

— 

In the weeks after the accident, Clark constantly checks on you and somehow you’ve been indoctrinated into his friend group. It’s nice since your old friend group has been slowly moving away since middle school but you don’t like being around Clark. He’s nice but he makes you nervous. You know why. But you can’t bring yourself to admit it. 

You love your parents, truly you do, but you don’t think they’d love you if they knew the truth. 

“I saw those damn two again,” Your mother sneers as she does your sister's hair for school. Your sister simply watches the Land Before Time DVD for the hundredth time while eating bits of granola and honeycomb.

“Jane and Betsy?” She groans at the mention of their name and you hide in your cushion. Jane and Betsy are the town's black sheep, they live together in a one-bedroom apartment and Jane has a clean-shaven head. Betsy has an assortment of tattoos and they don’t hide the fact that they’re not roommates but lovers. 

“Honestly, they need to hide their activities from the youth.” She continues on. “Forsaking the rest of us to see them. You know I talked to the Williams and they said they’re planning on opening a business.” Your father makes sounds of disapproval and you head upstairs to continue packing your bag. 

When you go back downstairs, you meet Angel and his friend in their car before heading to school. Once more Clark is the first person you see, although you see Lana not far away. They’re making a point to not look at each other, which makes it a bit awkward when Pete calls out for both of them. Lana looks at Clark before scoffing and walking towards Pete. 

“Hey,” Clark jumps, turning to see you. 

“Hey,” He doesn’t smile as he greets you, but he tries to. “Hey, um… I’ll see you during football practice, yeah?” Nodding, you watch as he walks away from the school. Sighing, you head in for your first class of the day. It’s not like you don’t have the same exact classes. Right. 

Clark doesn’t show up for practice that day or the next day, he’s barely in class but then he shows up and pretends as though the past couple of days hadn’t happened. 

“Want to be partners?” He asks, setting his lunch box in front of you. Choking on your water, he laughs and apologizes. “For the science project.” He clarifies, opening the box. “I know you’re pretty good with bees and stuff, I’m surprised no one has snatched you up already.” In truth, they had but you’d planned on working on the project alone. At least until he asked. 

“Yes. Yeah, sure,” Capping your thermos, you glance around. “So, we’re doing it on bees?”

“If you want,” He adds. “I just figured since you know bees and I’m good with football plays we could do some sort of… bee football game. Now that I say it out loud it does sound stupid.”

“No, it sounds nice. Unique. Uh, do you want to work on it at my place or yours?” 

“My parents are going out this Saturday to prepare for the Harvest Festival, so it’ll be quiet at my place.” He offers. 

“Sure, sounds like a plan.”

Saturday rolls around and Clark lets you inside, his hair pulled into a pigtail at the base of his neck but some pieces had fallen out and blocked parts of his face. It basically begged you to fix it. But you don’t, instead, you take your shoes off and follow him up to his room. You’d expected to work in the living room, maybe the dining room but being in his room was new. Intimate in ways you didn’t like. 

“You can sit on the bed,” He laughs when you stand at the door, messing with your rosary. Sitting on the bed he laughs again. “Get comfortable, you’re about to fall off.” He drags you back but forgets his strength and suddenly you’re on top of him. He’s still holding your wrist, his barely there grip makes goosebumps run down your spine. Naturally, his other hand had found your back, keeping you in place while you held onto him, clutching his sides. With wide eyes, you scramble off and apologize. 

“It’s okay, it was my fault. Let’s just… get started, yeah?” Waving his notebook you agree and the two of you begin to work on opposite ends of his bed. Eventually, there’s a call from the house phone and a knock on the door. 

“It’s probably my folks checking on me,” The two of you head downstairs and you open the door, finding your mother with a solemn look on her face and her death shawl over her shoulders. At the same time, you hear the house phone drop, clattering on the ground, and Clark staggers into the dining table. 

She drives Clark to the hospital to see Mr. Kent before it’s too late. She told you in the car he only had three hours left, that death was already in his hospital room waiting. She was right, of course. Mr. Kent is pronounced dead three hours later. 

The funeral is held at your church and the entire town attends wearing black. Mrs. Kent and Clark sit in the front, you’re a row behind them listening to your father talk about the life Mr. Kent had lived. His legacy. His family. Eventually, the procession moves to bury his body as it begins to pour down. 

Shifting your grip on your sister, you watch as your mother talks to Mrs. Kent and your father talks to Clark. You don’t know where you fit in all of this. What you’re supposed to do, if you’re supposed to do something. You’re Clark’s friend, his only friend since Lana and him broke up and Pete is trying to pick up where they left off, you should do something. Right? Talk to him at the very least. 

Passing your sister over to Angel, you start towards him. 

“I need some space,” He tells you when you get close. He walks away and you stand there, watching as he walks down the muddy road back towards his house.

—

Some time later and it’s summer break and you’re invited to a bonfire that’s being held by one of the cheerleaders. Angel quite literally drags you along by your neck, tossing you into his friend's car kidnapping style before they speed off. 

Once you’re there, your gaze naturally finds Clark’s. Following the funeral, he hadn’t spoken to you for two weeks. Not even for the project because the teacher automatically passed the two of you due to Mr. Kent’s passing. It was two agonizing weeks where you spent most of the time hating yourself for being upset he wasn’t talking to you. Hating yourself more because he was in your dreams and in them, you were more than friends. It made the silence and the guilt in your body all the more painful. 

You were back to normal now, well as normal as Clark could be following the death of his father and as normal as you could be after having fourteen dreams where you kissed him. 

“I didn’t think you’d come,” You admit, taking a seat next to him. He shrugs, looking at the fire in the trash can. Clarks never really gone to one of the parties but you’ve been to nearly all of them since you entered high school. Even if it is to just be a wallflower the entire time and so you can sober Angel up when it’s time to leave. 

“Ma thought it would be a good idea to get some air and I figured you’d be here,” He pushes his shoulder against yours and you nudge his back. “Can I ask you something?” Nodding, you watch as his eyes dip down to your rosary. “I’ve never seen you take it off, why do you wear it? You said you don’t like church,”

“I’m still vaguely religious.” You shrug, holding the cross. “And it was a gift from my aunt. She makes rosaries and made this when my ma was pregnant with me. It just means a lot to me, I guess,” Your hand drops and you see his hand begin to hover. “You can touch it, you won’t burn.” The two of you laugh but he grabs it, gently rolling his thumb over the intricate metal. Gulping, you watch him, eyes darting between his own before he drops it. 

“It’s pretty,” He says after a minute and looks towards the party. It’s loud, speakers all around, and shouting teenagers always makes Clark wince. 

“If you wanna go somewhere more quiet, there’s a creek some ways behind us.” He takes the offer and you guide him towards the creek beyond a small clearing of trees. 

The two of you settle on top of a rock. It’s clear that someone had already been there because there’s a blanket and two empty cans of beer below the rock. Neither of you mind as you flip the blanket and settle down, now sure there’s no bodily fluids touching your pants. “I’ve never been here before,” He said after some time had passed with the two of you spending it watching the water. 

“I come here every bonfire. It’s nice. Most people go the other direction to make out and stuff.” Kicking your foot, you see Clark turn his head towards you. Looking at him, your heart races. Even with the shitty flashlight at the bottom of his rock, you can see his stupidly pretty blue eyes and his smile that he’s slowly getting back. “Not what we’re… gonna… make out,”

He chuckles, looking to the creek for a moment before looking at you again. You’re still dumbstruck, staring at him and his eyes dip to your slightly parted lips. He hears your racing heart pick up when you notice and look back at you, your eyes darting between his. “Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong,” He mutters and leans in. His lips brush against yours and you lean in, closing the little distance. 

Your chest does tricks as you kiss— it feels so right that this couldn’t possibly be wrong. There’s no way this isn’t what you’re meant to do, that this is the wrong path. It’s new but it feels so familiar, kissing him. Across the creek a tree breaks but neither one of you seems to care, you think Clark doesn’t even notice. But when you hear a twig snap you pull away and jump down from the rock, holding your mouth. Clark frowns as he watches you mess with your rosary, hearing you muttering prayers. 

“Ready to go?” Angel slurs against a tree. You basically run to him, dragging him away from the creek. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” When you leave, you don’t look back at Clark but he hears your heart hammering and the way your rosary beads hit each other when you kiss the cold metal he’d touched.

—

That Sunday during church you’re watching the children, listening to the sermon through the open windows the parents use to keep an extra eye on their kids. You’re still thinking about the kiss, hating yourself for how you let yourself fall into temptation. Biting your tongue, you fix your clothes for the umpteenth time and pace about. Angel isn’t there to help, he’s gone off to college to play football across the country. Not that you mind, he’s gotten into a D1 on a full ride. Besides, at least he’s doing better than you are.

In the distance, Clark watches you. His mother had started going to service more often since his father's passing but this time he’d ask to go. You hadn’t talked to him all week, not answering the phone, your mother said you weren’t home whenever he asked but he knows you were inside of the barn with your father. He saw you. Heard you talking about keeping the bees safe for when the cold starts to come around again. This was the only place he could think of to talk to you. 

He excuses himself during prayer, it’s easier to leave that way and heads out towards the playground. You’re helping one of the boys learn to swing when Clark makes his appearance. “You’re a good teacher,” He nearly gets kicked by the boy and takes a comically large step back. You blink, not looking at him as your heart rate increases. “Can we talk?”

“Sorry, I’m busy.” Walking away, you stop a disagreement about toys before going to the edge of the playground again. He follows, dodging running children and stray toys. 

“I just… I’m sorry,” He says once he’s close enough. Your breath hitches and you inhale. 

“We were intoxicated, it’s fine.” Never mind the two of you hadn’t even had a sip of water. Not a pill, not a drink, nothing. Solemnly, he agrees to the lie and walks away. You watch him with a heavy heart, holding your cross as your chest tightens. You want so desperately for things to be different, for this feeling to go away. 

But you can’t. You return to watching the children, the ache never leaving.

That behavior continues as school comes around again. You feel bad, of course you do. It wasn’t a mistake, you’d wanted to kiss him. The issue is you liked it and you want to do it again— Clark liked it and he wants to do it again. He tries to talk to you time and time again but you’re fast and somehow manage to evade him every single time. It’s hard, considering you’re never not around him. 

He continues to show up during church, helping with the kids even when it’s only your sister playing around. She likes him, says that he’s the best at her tea parties that you’ve started to refuse to play whenever he’s around. Clark doesn’t mean to ambush you every Sunday but it’s the only time he can hear your voice. The only time he can be around you for longer than a second before you run away. 

And it’s slowly chipping away at your resolve. 

One day he’d tried seven separate times and you’re glad when you’re home. Angrily kicking your shoes off you turn to head upstairs when you see your parents talking on the phone while holding a card. You recognize their voices, they’re friends from when you lived in New Orleans, and they used to attend service. 

“You’re right on time!” Your mother smiles as she beckons you further inside the house. “You remember Mickey and O’Neil, right?” You nod and your father smiles. It’s nice to be remembered. “We’re planning on flying back to New Orleans for their wedding, they want your father to officiate it, do you want to come? I know you’re back on the football team and everything but I know you miss it there.” 

Your eyebrows cross as you look at her, a wedding— a gay wedding that your father approved of? Your chest tightens as your world spins. You can’t manage a single word as you nod. What was different about them and Betsy? Did they not like gay women? 

“I thought…” You trail, lips pinched shut. “They’re homosexuals.”

“Surely are,” Your father smiles. “Unless one of them transitioned and we haven’t heard yet.”

“You don’t like gay people.” Sharing a look, your parents turn to you. Your chest rises and falls quickly and they can hear you breathing. 

“Honey,” Your mother's head tilts as she grabs your hand. “Why would you think that?” She pulls you down onto the couch and you thread your fingers over your hair. 

“You always talk about Betsy and Jane and how they’re bad people.” Your face twists as you try to understand what’s going on. What are they talking about?

“That’s because they tried to burn down the diner.” Your father explains, the diner your father owns. He does church on the side. “Jane got fired and the two of them decided to try to destroy it. It’s why Mr. Leon is in the wheelchair.” Your shoulders slump as you realize their hatred was never centered around who they loved. 

“So, you don’t hate gay people?” The waiver in your voice carries the pain you’re holding and your parents' hearts ache for you. 

“No, honey. Love thy neighbor. Only God can judge,” Your father presses his lips to the top of your head as you begin to cry. The two of them hold you as you cry, clutching their clothes for reprise. The floors shake as you cry and their grip on you tightens. “We’re sorry that you felt any different.” 

After some time, you pull away and wipe your face. They’re hesitant to let you go, but slowly they unwrap you from their arms and let you stand up. You feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as you walk away. They watch as you go, squeezing each other's hand as a silent promise to each other.

Halfway up the stairs, as all of this dawns on you, you remember. 

Clark. 

You huff a laugh and turn around. Running down the stairs, you stuff your feet into your shoes and run the distance from your house to the Kent’s. 

Your feet bash against the dirt road, ignoring the pain in your calves and the cold air invading your lungs. You’re laughing the whole time, skidding to a halt when you see their mailbox. The lights are on and you see Mrs. Kent in the kitchen. 

Running up to the door, you’re panting as you knock on the door. Mrs Kent opens the door for you with a smile, wiping her hands on a dish towel. 

“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on? Is something the matter?” She asks and you shake your head, holding your knees. 

“Hello, ma’am. I’m here for your son,” You struggle to get out but she lets you in without any fuss. “Thank you, ma’am.” Taking your shoes off, you climb the stairs two at a time before opening his door. He’s on his bed, doing homework, and sits up when he sees you. He doesn’t notice the door closing on its own, not when you’re smiling like an idiot while rushing towards him. 

“I am so sorry,” You say before kissing him. He smiles, holding you close as you continue to kiss before needing air. Holding his face, you can’t stop smiling and admiring him. 

“What changed?” He doesn’t want to ask that, to ruin the mood but he needs to know. It’s been two months of this cold shoulder, of him doing everything short of coming to your home with flowers and screaming your name to the heavens. 

“I might’ve assumed my parents were homophobic,” You laugh, pressing your forehead against his. “Can we start over?” He nods, leaning in for another kiss, lowering himself onto his bed when his mother walks in. 

Jumping off of Clark, you stare at Mrs. Kent with wide eyes while Clark hides his embarrassed face. You peel yourself from him, sitting on the edge of his bed while pinching your lips closed.

“Let me know if you’re staying for dinner, sugar,” She smiles at you. 

“No, ma’am. My parents are expecting me back soon,” She nods and gives Clark a look before leaving. The door stays open and he starts laughing. 

—

Being a witch, you have certain little traits. You mix cinnamon into your coffee filters on the rare occasions that you drink it, you always have your mini grimoire on hand, and as of late, tracing protection sigils into Clark’s arm. 

You’re at your place after football practice because despite your brother no longer being there to drag you to tryouts, you’ve found you do enjoy the sport. Continuing your role as the best running back with Clark’s plays. 

You and Clark are in the living room under the blanket watching a movie he’d picked out. He’s no stranger to your home, so much so your family has gotten used to finding his shoes neatly placed next to yours. But they’re all out of town picking your brother up from the airport, so the two of you are free to do whatever for the next… you squint at the clock, three hours. 

Sometimes you think about telling him but your mother didn’t tell your father until they’d been dating for three years and it sounds like a solid plan to you. Besides, it hasn’t even been seven months of dating. You’d be foolish to tell him now. Especially when things are going steady. 

Sometimes you worry he’s going to wander into the barn or the basement, finding the assortment of items, and run for the hills. He has this weird way of always knowing where you are when he’s around. Pinpointing you in the crowd as if you’re the only person around. 

“Do you believe in aliens?” He asks as the movie credits begin to roll. 

“I’d be stupid not to,” You hum, turning the TV off. It’s too much work to pick out another movie. “Do you?” With a nod, he sits up and lays on his back, staring at the ceiling. He’s cut his hair, it rests around his ears nowadays but he keeps the front longer so there’s one particular curl that rests in the center of his forehead. It’s cute. 

“What if we could travel to outer space? See the stars and the planets like the astronauts do,” His eyes are still cast to the ceiling, darting about as if he’s imagining it. “Would you like an alien?”

“Whaddya mean?” Shifting, you sit with your legs tangled with his. He looks at you, leaning up on his forearms. 

“Would you date an alien?”

“It depends,” You grin, tugging at his pants leg. “Are they as cute as you?” He laughs and lays down again. 

“You hungry? Ma made lasagna last night.” Despite it being your offer and your house, Clark drags you into the kitchen and tosses the dish into the oven. Had he been someone with less restraint he would’ve heated it up himself but instead the two of you sit in the kitchen. You’re on the counter while he’s between your legs, staring up at you. You’re talking about anything and nothing, planning dates for the winter lights show a town over, talking about how much work your teachers had given for the winter break. 

Once the food is reheated the two of you eat like that. Still talking as Clark does the dishes next to you. You cringe as he does them wrong but he looks so happy so you let him. He eyes the bundle of spices above the sink and you try to see if you’ve left anything notably witchy out. Your tarot cards are still on the dining table and you send them down to the basement before he turns back to you. 

He wipes his hands on your sweater before you lean down and kiss him. He holds your legs, pulling you closer and the door opens. This is the fourth time the two of you have been caught, you’d think you would’ve gotten better at hiding it. 

“Woah!” Your brother shouts when he sees you two. Groaning, you look over at him. “Ma, you let them kiss in the house?” Clark dips his head down as you get down from the counter, crossing your arms as they all head inside. 

“Stop teasing your brother,” Your mother shakes her head. “Hi, Clark.”

“I gotta go…” Clark trails. “It’s getting late and my mom—“

“It’s okay, want me to drive you back?” 

“No, it’s okay. It’s only two miles.” He kisses you, a quick fleeting kiss that makes Angel snicker. “Er… see you Mr and Mrs (L/n).” He gathers his stuff and leaves, giving you one last wave before the door closes. 

“Come on, Angel!” You groan, tossing an apple at him. He catches it and takes a big bite before he farts and goes upstairs. “You know, the month before he left he’s the one who spilled all of moms homemade tomato paste.”

“You snitch!”

—

All good things must come to an end. 

Two years, well almost. You started dating in eleventh grade and now it’s the summer before college. The two of you knew that this was going to go one of two ways, long distance or breaking up. You’d gotten into the same D1 college as your brother and Clark was going off to Metropolis to pursue a journalism degree. What you didn’t think would happen was Clark having a completely different opinion from yours.

“There are phones and I have a car now,” You ramble, looking between his bleary eyes and red nose. “There are holiday breaks and long weekends. I’ll be traveling for games and stuff. We can make it work,”

“I can’t.” His lips wobble as he looks away and your breathing skips. “You deserve someone who can be there for you.” Lately, he’s been bailing, leaving dates early and sometimes he doesn’t even show up. Sure, but you’re sure there’s a reason for that. You’re sure of it. You’re willing to put in the work to keep the relationship going, you don’t care. You just want him. And for Clark, that’s the issue. He’s becoming Superman, he’s going to be unavailable and that’s not something you deserve. 

“Please,” Your voice cracks, holding your cross. “I want to be with you, I don’t care—“

“I’m sorry,” He stands and you follow him, desperately reaching out. “This is for the better.” 

“Don’t leave me,” You beg, watching as his jaw tightens. “How can you leave me— us? It can’t be that easy!” You reach for him but he moves away, his eyes flickering to the ground as he apologizes but stands firm on his decision. Clark leaves and you turn around, heading into your house with a heavy heart and a tight chest. 

That night your father holds you as you cry, riding out your first heartbreak while your sister calls your brother; telling him everything. 

Clark doesn’t see you when you leave for college, you don’t expect him to. Considering he’d left the day before. Mrs. Kent apologized for him, explaining that he was having some emotions he needed to process. It didn’t help you, not one bit. 

You spend the flight to school doing readings and getting strange looks from the old man next to you. Each one only makes you more and more frustrated, all of the signs pointing that this is the best course of action. This is how it’s meant to be. You’ve never doubted the cards before, especially when each reading is so similar but you explain it by assuming it’s because you’re so high up. So, you do one as you’re in the car with Angel. 

It’s the same fucking thing. 

“Stop doing those damn readings,” He huffs, waving his hand over the cards but he doesn’t touch them. “Clark broke up with you, so what? You’ve gotten a full ride to the best football college in the nation! You’re a witch! That fuck ass country boy will come crawling back when you’re in the NFL, trust me.”

“I miss him,” You frown, packing the cards back into the tin. Angel groans and smacks your head. 

“You’re not gonna miss him when you see the guys at college; there’s a bunch of Clark Kent’s in this world.” He says that as you look out the window, doubting his words. There is no other Clark Kent. “Even so, I know a couple gay guys. They’d be your type.” 

—

College football, ranked third most popular sport in the US after professional football and basketball, is an extremely taxing thing. Your days start early, running before the sun is up, drills, training until you can’t anymore, ice baths that you’re sure will kill you one day, practice, going to away games on top of maintaining a good GPA. 

You’re running in the cold, wearing shorts as you see your breath leaving your body in a foggy smoke. But hey, Angel was right. You had a couple of flings during college. A couple of DL’s, of course, maybe a single relationship that lasted a month but nothing of substance. You hate that you’re still hung up on Clark; it's ridiculous. You dated for less than two years during high school. He’d gotten over Lana in less time and you’re sure he’s off at school getting with some girl or whatever. 

“Happy birthday!” Angel shouts as the team all sit in a restaurant slash bar, celebrating the fact that the season is over and your school has won nearly all of their games. Plus, one of the guys' birthdays. You’re old enough to drink, but you stick to your water all the same. It’s a bad look for a star athlete to be caught drunk, which is why the team hadn’t gone to an actual bar as intended. 

Your eyes flicker across the restaurant and you catch a guy sitting at the bar. He’s drinking something brown, not even letting the ice have a chance to melt, and pretending he likes his drinks watered down. His eyes catch yours and he grins, turning in his seat to stare at you. You smile and look away, returning to your conversation. 

Sometime later, a waiter comes by and hands you a glass of… something brown. 

“I didn’t…”

“It’s from someone else,” She explains before walking away. Immediately, you find the guy and he raises his glass. Raising yours, you take a sip and you’re pleasantly surprised that it’s just sweet tea. Your brother snickers and nudges you out of the booth. The other guys encourage you and you agree, taking a fry before heading to the bar. 

“Hey,” You smile, slinking into the seat next to him. “I’m (Y/n),”

“Bruce,” He responds, shaking your hand. You shake his hand as you take him in, deciding to pursue whatever it is with Bruce. Even if it’s just because he’s nearly identical to Clark. 

Things with Bruce didn’t last long, sadly. Only around six months. He went awol after a bit but you weren’t angry by it. He was nice enough, and surely spoiled you a bit, too. Angel loved that part. 

“Get up,” Angel grumbles as you’re lying on the couch, staring at the Metropolis news channel, waiting for him to appear. His eyes move to the TV and he grumbles, snatching the remote away before changing the channel to ESPN. You grumble back and sit up, watching as he plops himself down, his girlfriend shyly waving at you. You wave back, resting your head on the armrest. 

“Ignore him,” He stage whispers to his girlfriend. “He’s moping about a boy from high school.” She wants to laugh, you can tell, but doesn’t for your sake while he sure enough does. 

“Eat a dick,” You reach behind her and smack his head before heading into the kitchen. 

“Why don’t you hit up that guy from that English class you had? With the red hair, he was cute.” He calls. 

“‘Cause,” You shrug, grabbing a bottle of juice. “Last I heard of him it was because people around campus got crabs from him. It was like thirty people,”

“Oh my god,” She gasps. “James? James uhh… Richmond?” She snaps her fingers and you nod.

“Yeah,” You laugh into the rim of the bottle. “I knew him before the crab's thing, still got tested, though.”

“This is the first I’m hearing about this,” Angel sits up, looking between the two of you. 

“Because you’re not on the men's side of school drama.” You shrug. “A lot of guys on campus get passed around. Especially James,”

“No, yeah, it was gross. My friend hooked up with him. It wasn’t just crabs.” Her face scrunches and you make a similar one. “He also gave her brother crabs and gono.” Tossing the now-empty bottle into the trash, you shake your head. 

“That’s so…” Walking away, you flop onto your bed and pretend to do homework. Instead, you spend your time doom scrolling on your phone. Facebook sure is a strange place.

—

You’d been there when your brother got drafted to the Kansas City Chiefs two years after things ended with you and Bruce. You’d watched from the waiting room as he stood on the stage, accepting the draft pick and getting the jersey number 55. Of course, he became the star quarterback by the time the season was over, cementing his spot on the team. 

This year it was your turn, you’d gone through the NFL combine, painstakingly trying your best to reach the qualifying numbers before getting confirmed you were going into the draft. That in itself was such a relief you literally collapsed onto your bed and cried. Currently, you’re sitting with your family minus your sister in the waiting room, your leg bouncing as you watch the other teams pick their drafts for this round. It’s still the first round of drafts and there are three teams left, so you’re not nervous that your name hasn’t been said yet. 

But man, are you terrified that your name hasn’t been said yet.

Angel laughs the more antsy you get— he thinks you got this in the bag, your father prays next to you and your mother rubs lavender lotion onto your hands. 

The commissioner heads to the stand as the Chiefs lock in their pick in record time. 

You listen as the commissioner reads from the card, your jaw drops as your brother jumps up and cheers, punching the air as your name rings through your ears. You stand, hugging him tightly as your parents join the hug. They damn near suffocate you before your brother pushes you towards the stage. 

Wiping your tears, you rush up and take your jersey, bouncing around with it as people cheer. The announcers talk about the fact that your brother is on the team as he rushes out and tackles you once you get off of the stage. 

“You fucking did it!” He shouts, crying. He pulls you close as you both stumble about. There are some technical difficulties as your excitement reaches the peak but nothing anyone could bring back to you. You don’t doubt someone had managed to get that on video, though. 

That night you sit awake, wondering if Clark had been watching. What would’ve happened if he was there at your side. How he would’ve held you; kissed you. Maybe he’ll text you, you haven’t changed your number since you’d gotten it. Your Facebook is the same, too. You’re still friends on there, he likes your posts sometimes. You look at his but you never interact with them.

But he doesn’t. He reports on the picks because it’s his job, you watch it with headphones on because somehow Angel can always hear when you listen to his reports. The way he says your name crushes you, he says it as if he doesn’t know you, as if you hadn’t spent years together and Angel shouts that you’ve blown out the lights again. He takes your phone away because he knows the lights are always a Clark issue. 

—

After four years of being on the team, you head back to Smallville for Christmas. You’d missed Thanksgiving due to the games (which you of course won) and are more than ready to lay in some snow for a while. Not to mention finally being home for a holiday.

You’re in town, doing some last-minute grocery shopping alone when you see him. He’s in the section of the store you absolutely need to go to, with your brother's wife pregnant she’s been craving nothing more than bacon-wrapped hotdogs dipped in Rotel cheese with pickles. It doesn’t sound half bad, so it’s a family food now. 

You stare at him, taking in his appearance for the first time in eight years. God, eight years. Angel is right, you should be over him by now. But you take him in as your walk slows until you’re standing behind him. He’s bulked up since the last time you saw him, he stands taller too. That shirt looks awfully tight around the arms and when he reaches up to grab a pack of meat the shirt tightens around his back. 

You blink away from him, looking down the empty aisles before you put your big boy pants on and continue to the meat section. Walking next to him, you grab the first three packs of hotdogs you see and turn to leave when he grabs you by the elbow. He softly calls your name and you stop, turning to face him. 

“Hey, Clark,” You greet, your heart pounding in your ears. He says your name again and it falls so nicely that you swear you almost crumble right then and there. 

“I’ve seen your games. You’re amazing,” He smiles, pushing his glasses up his nose. Never mind the fact he’s gotten tickets to six of your games and flown over two others. Not to mention he’s put himself in charge of all football complications at work. 

“Thanks. I heard you’re at the Daily Planet now,” Heard. You found out the day he posted it. Stalking his page like a madman between drills and games. Your TV’s default station is the Daily Planet and you have a monthly subscription to their newspapers. 

“Yeah, it’s great.” There’s a silence that hangs and you go to walk away but he stops you again. “Can we meet up soon? I’m free tomorrow if you are.” The hope in his eyes almost makes you give in but you pick yourself back up and grab another two packets of hotdogs. God, do you even need five packets of hotdogs? Probably not, but you can’t just put them back. It’ll look weird. 

“Maybe,” You shrug. “I’ll see you around, Clark.” Rubbing his face, Clark decides to keep on shopping; his ma doesn’t need much else anyway. He passed you at the checkout. You have all five packets of hotdogs, a gallon of eggnog, various snacks, and about three boxes of Rotel cheese. He doesn’t know it, but you spent extra time getting items hoping you’d see him again. Although he’s ashamed to admit it, he waits in the sky as you leave the market and get into your car, following you the entire way home while you listen to whatever the radio is playing at the time. 

He watches as you enter your childhood home and slowly drops down, standing at the window as you hug your parents. His heart nearly drops when he sees a pregnant woman hug you but he’s relieved when Angel kisses her cheek and she kisses him back. Your head begins to turn to the driveway and he takes off, leaving his footprints in the snow as the only proof he was there. 

You blink at the driveway, sure that something was watching you but your father calling your name drags you back into the house. 

You don’t bring it up when you get back to your family home but your mother knows something is up. Of course, she’d done a reading. But she doesn’t mention it. There’s other topics to talk about, like her upcoming grand baby, your sister making the debate team, your father's retirement, and your latest games. 

Spending time with your family is nice but you’ve spent the entire time thinking about him. How his hair looks better in person, his stupid glasses that kept slipping from his face, his fucking smile. You go for a walk after dinner, not wanting to blow up any more lights than you already have.

You walk behind the barn and stare at the vast spread of land your parents own. You know you’d hidden something somewhere along the property but it was so many years ago you’ve since forgotten. You hope it wasn’t something awfully important. 

“Hey,” Angel calls as you're walking aimlessly in the snow, hoping to remember the spot. “Ma’s worried about you getting sick. Come inside already,” Noddining, you take one last look out before heading inside. 

—

Week eighteen, the final week for the NFL season. It’s the last game before the Super Bowl in February, although you already know you’re a shoo-in for it. You’re up against the Dallas Cowboys, sitting in the locker room laughing and joking before pre-game interviews happen. 

You’re next to Felix Anudike-Uzomah, talking about something that happened in a previous game where Leo Chenal tripped over thin air and went flying into the coach. Leo, somehow hearing from across the locker room, sucks his teeth and tosses a towel at the two of you. 

“Interviews,” The coach announces, entering the room. Everyone settles down, watching as a group of five reporters and five cameramen walk inside. There’s a pair from NBC, Fox, CNN, ESPN, and the one that makes you and Angel look at each other, The Daily Planet. 

Clark stands in the most dorkiest outfit you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing him in. A red bow tie, a pressed blue button-up under a darker blue vest, brown slacks, and a nice pair of loafers. His glasses are resting on the tip of his nose and you can tell he’s put in extra time doing his hair. 

A light blows out above him and Angel smacks your leg, silently warning you to get a grip.

“You’re booked for Rosary,” Coach tells Clark after reading from the chart. Your heart skips a beat and you look at Angel but he just sighs, holding his head. Clark’s eyes find yours easily in the crowded locker room that suddenly feels so stuffy. 

No. You’re upset with him. 

He’s just another reporter you’ll talk to for five maybe ten minutes. Not the guy you’ve been practically obsessing over for eight years. Highly embarrassing for a grown man who pays taxes and has constant offers from very handsome men who would worship him. 

Never mind that, you’re plastering a smile as you shake hands with Clark. No introductions are necessary, but you do meet the cameraman. Clark says he’s working as a fill-in for the usual cameraman, his friend, Jimmy Olsen. He waves, shouldering the large camera on his shoulder. 

“Big game today,” He smiles, the microphone in his hand doing nothing to obscure that bright smile he puts on for the cameras. “How are you feeling about it? You don’t seem nervous.”

“Yeah, sure is.” You nod, looking just under his eyes. It’s less intimate that way. You can’t see his stupid eyes that way. “It's always a bittersweet moment with the guys before the last game of the season. But, you know, we got this in the bag so I’m not sweating it.” He laughs, nodding. Shit, you hadn’t heard that laugh in years and it makes you weak in the knees. A light blows out and Angel looks at you from where he’s being interviewed, you look down to avoid his gaze. 

“Clearly, you haven’t lost a game in nearly thirty games. That’s impressive, recording breaking, in fact.” He says and you swear for a second, his eyes meet your lips. You look away, nodding. He’s making the interview so difficult for no reason, absolutely no reason at all.

“That’s such a blessing. I don’t want to say too much about it, I don't want to jinx anything.” He nods.

“Me neither,” He smiles. You stare at him, waiting for the next question but he just stares for a second before he inhales and composes himself. “There’s a rumor you’re settling down, is that true?” Oh lord, you pocket your hands and shake your head. This time you don’t look at him as you answer the question.

“Definitely not settling down. Maybe put on babysitting duty but nothing personal. I’m not rushing anything.” 

“Taking things slow,” He nods and you nod back. “Well, I think that’s everything. Good luck, (Y/n),” Jimmy puts the camera down and goes to clean the lens but Clark doesn’t stop smiling at you. He doesn’t even walk away.

“It’s nice seeing you again,” He says and you clear your throat, looking along the room. “We didn’t meet up last time.”

“No,” You agree. “We did not. I wasn’t free.” That’s technically the truth, your sister-in-law had given birth and then there were some personal issues you had to attend to. 

“How about—“

“I think coach wants to talk to you. Probably your next interview,” You interrupt and he looks like a damn picked puppy it makes you feel bad when he leaves. 

“You’re a lost cause,” Angel sighs upon seeing your crestfallen expression. You shove him and leave the locker room to get some fresh air. 

“Wait, (Y/n)!” Clark follows after you, his microphone and Jimmy left inside the locker room. You pretend to not hear him, choosing to wander the cold and damp hallways of the stadium before he catches up to you. “Please.” He whispers, unaware he’d caged you between himself and the wall. A corner, at that. 

“What?” You ask. 

“I just want to talk,” He promises. “One conversation. Ten minutes,”

“The game starts in five,” You point out and he huffs, checking his watch. “Bullet points?” His hand drops back to your forearm and he thinks for a second before he smiles. 

“Just this one.” He breathes and kisses you. 

You feel like a fool when you kiss back without any hesitation. There’s not even a seconds delay as your lips move with his, your hands finding his hair and his hands finding your thighs. His fingers press to them in this nearly bruising pressure and you get the hint easily enough. 

While, sure, you’ve kissed plenty of men. You’ve taken men to bed and they’ve taken you to bed. But you’ve never had a guy lift you up before and you imagine if they had, it wouldn’t have been as easy as it was with Clark. 

He holds you in place so well, so secure, that you’re sure he has an insane workout routine. But when you feel his muscles, you know that for sure. His bench press but be insane. 

God, you’re thinking about working out while making out. 

His blunt nails dig into the tights of your uniform and you hiss, opening your mouth in his. Gripping his well-groomed hair, your fingers thread in the dark strands before there’s a throat clearing from the end of the hallway. 

The two of you break apart like magnets and you stare at Angel. 

“Dude,” He sighs and you have to blink in the darkness to see him properly. “Come on, we gotta be on the field in three.” Nodding, you don’t look back at Clark as you run back into the locker room, fearing the earful Angel is going to give you later on. 

To say you won the game would be an understatement. You absolutely demolished the other team on their home field. It was such a sweep that you stopped playing halfway into the game and just had fun with the guys. During every break you’d see Clark in the press pit, watching you with a soft smile. 

“C’mon, gay boy.” Angel grabs you by the helmet and pulls you into the locker room while some teammates do their post-game interviews. It’s empty when you get inside and he’s thankful for that. 

“Making out with Clark is such a low,” He says, holding a hand up before you can start talking. “I get it; first loves are hard. But he dumped you and didn’t even say goodbye. It’s embarrassing that you’re won back so easily. Did he even say sorry?” His foot taps as he waits for an answer but you’re sure he already knows. 

“No…” You trail and he scoffs loudly. “He wanted to talk but I said the game was about to start.”

“Oh, so you skipped the apology and shoved his tongue down your throat?” He scoffs, crossing his arms. 

“I didn’t mean to!” You shout. 

“You didn’t mean to wrap your legs around him and hold his head? That seemed pretty intentional to me!” He shouts back. 

“Angel,” You huff, head in your hands. He sighs and sits next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“I get it, you’re a big boy who can make big-boy mistakes. This is a pretty big one, though. It’s just you’ve spent years trying to get over him and he’s sucking you back in. I don’t want to see you crying over him again, 'cause next time he does I’m getting ma to put a hex on his ass.” You laugh and shake your head. “I’m serious!” He laughs, knocking your head with his knuckles. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid, yeah?” He asks, his hand running over your shoulder to hold his own hand. 

“I won’t,” You promise. “It was just… heat of the moment.”

“Good. Now let’s go, we have a victory to celebrate!”

—

Heat of the moment— you’re a fucking idiot to believe that. To have believed that even, for a split second, that you weren’t still absolutely enamored by Clark Kent. Like some stupid, hopeless, idiot. 

Following the game Clark had messaged you on Facebook— a simple text, a simple congratulations text. You kept it to yourself, texting him on and off as the weeks progressed. Texts turned into photos; nothing scandalous. Pictures of food, selfies showing off his friends at work, your treadmill— simple things. Photos turned into calls. Maybe five minutes long, nothing of substance. 

Five turned into twenty, turned into an hour and suddenly your text and call logs were filled with C.K. 

Ashamed, you didn’t mention it to Angel. You don’t live together anymore, he lives in South Carolina while you moved to New York, closer to Metropolis than to Gotham, though. 

Even more ashamed, you noticed how even through your hundreds of hours talking, there was never an apology. Never an explanation. Nothing. You felt stupid every time you hung up, every time you replied so fast to his text only to be left on delivered for hours at a time. 

So, you started agreeing to dates. Your friends, teammates, and even Angel and his wife would set you up with guys. They were nice enough. Kind men who definitely made you happy, never too eager for something you didn’t want, never too fanboy, and you thought, for a while, that you could be happy with one of them. 

It was six months with him; a great, long six months of getting to know Thomas. He was a little older than yourself, in his mid-thirties. He was absolutely useless when it came to football and you loved trying to teach him. 

“Babe,” He called one day, in a tone that made your heart sink as you rose up from the kitchen island, ignoring the tomatoes that needed dicing. “There’s flowers for you.”

“From who?” He stands at the door with a vase filled with elaborate flowers, colors so vibrant you’re sure it’s fake. He grabs the card and flips it open. 

“I know it’s early, but I’m hoping this gets to you at midnight. Happy birthday, I’m sorry I missed the last eight. Expect more. Love, Clark. Who’s Clark?” He turns to you, shoving the vase into your arms. 

“An old boyfriend,” You blink, setting the vase down to follow after him. 

“You’re seeing him?” He asks, arms crossed, the card between his fingers as he reads over the words. “Expect more, Love, Clark.” He repeats and you sigh, running a hand over your rosary. 

“No! I haven’t seen him in like eight months. He’s a reporter and he came to a game and interviewed me. I haven’t seen him since high school.” 

“So, he’s just some stalker then?” Thomas asks and you bite your lip.

“No,” You drag out, wanting to be open with him and he goes to turn away but you quickly add. “I haven’t spoken to him since our first date. Honest, you can check my phone.” Taking what you say at face value, he puts the card down and purses his lips. 

“How does he know where you live?”

“I actually don’t know,” You admit. “I mean, he could’ve asked my mother. But, I don’t know.” He inhales and then caresses your face, his knuckles brushing against your jaw. 

“Okay,” He smiles and kisses you. “But you’re not off the hook. You didn’t tell me your birthday is in an hour!” You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. 

—

“How’re things with Tommy boy?” Angel asks, pulling you aside as your birthday party rages in your backyard. It’s the day after your birthday and despite yourself, you didn’t cancel the already existing fake surprise party they’d planned for you. 

“He…” You sigh. “We broke up yesterday.”

“He broke up with you on your birthday?” He echos and you nod, eating a piece of cake to drown your sorrow. “Why?”

“…Clark,” He gives you a look and you snort. “Clark kept sending me gifts throughout the day, I kept telling him that I haven’t spoken to Clark in months but he stopped believing me after Clark sent me a signed jersey from that hockey player I like.”

“You only just started getting into hockey, though.”

“That’s what he said; so he thinks I’m still texting him. Broke up with me,”

“I hate to ask,” Angel trails off, face twisting with guilt and you huff, setting the plate down. 

“I haven’t said a word to Clark in ages. I don’t know how he got my address, how he knows these things— I… I don’t know but he just ruined my first good relationship since him.” 

“You think he’s stalking you?” 

“I’ll check later today; I asked mom to help with a reading and then a protection spell. But I really want to get drunk right now.” 

“I was hoping you’d say that, let’s go! Aunty Tiff brought her special punch.”

—

Magic is… finicky. Especially when you’re bordering on black-out drunk, stumbling into everything in your bedroom after Angel and forcibly brought you there. The party had since ended, everything was cleaned up and most people went home. 

You stayed up, embarrassed to admit you were drunk texting (and calling) Thomas that nothing was happening between you and Clark. He ended up blocking you and you just laid down, wallowing in your own self-pity before getting up and going for a walk. 

You don’t remember thinking about that teleportation spell, but you did remember suddenly being in the snow, barely able to stand up until you got the alcohol out of your system with another spell. You recognized Smallville and walked around for a bit, you could use the fresh air anyway. 

You don't realize that you’re at the Kent’s until you see the red barn. It just makes you angry and you brush your cold hands against your face, wiping away the angry tears. Turning around, you jump when Clark is in front of you. 

“Can we talk?” He asks. Dressed poorly for the weather, you stare at his red nose and then his eyes. It’s always those damn eyes. Blinking, you look out to the sky and then back at him.

“Fuck you,” You spit, brushing past him before you spin around and shove him. “How’d you get my address anyway? Know about that hockey shit?” 

“I asked your mother and I saw you’d posted it last month,” He explains, eyes flickering between yours. “Was I not supposed—“

“I got dumped on my fucking birthday because he thought I was cheating with you! With you! Oh my god, why can’t you just leave me alone, it’s been almost a decade and you’re still here!” 

“Ma lives here…” He trails and you shout, running your hands over your hair. 

“Here!” You wave your arms around and it clicks for him. “I finally stopped thinking about you and you just swoop back in, ruining everything, again!” 

“I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to show you that I still care.”

“You should've left me alone. You should’ve declined that interview, you should’ve left me alone when I walked out of the locker room. I should’ve ignored your texts and your calls.” You ramble. 

“Is that what you really want?” He asks, standing tall and you mimic his stance. 

“It’s better than whatever the fuck this is!” You shout. “You leaving without a trace and then reappear without an explanation. Expecting me to just go along with it and I fucking do because I’m holding onto some stupid childish hope that maybe you’ll change. Like this is some stupid story!”

“Let’s talk then,” He suggests. “I’ll explain everything— everything. I’ll answer any question you’ll want me to. And if you still feel like that then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fine.” You huff. He smiles and takes you into the barn. To his credit, it’s incredibly warm inside. The Kent’s don’t own any more animals since Clark left and Mrs. Kent couldn’t tend to them anymore so it’s void of the animal smell you’re used to. 

He closes the door with a gentle thud while you lean against a pillar, watching as he walks in front of you. 

“I’ve wanted to say this since the day we broke up,” He starts. “I love you. I haven’t stopped. But…” Your heart drops as his face falls. “At the time I was coming into my own shoes. It took up my entire life. And it wasn’t going to be fair to you, you don’t deserve a back-burner relationship.”

“Were you doing drugs or something?” You ask, honestly confused out of your mind. This is fucking Clark Kent, a resident good boy who became a reporter. Not Timmy who tried to make meth in the chem lab a week before graduation. 

“No… I—“ He takes a step back and removes his hat. “I wanted to tell you so many times. But I was afraid,”

“You know I don’t like these cliffhanger conversations, spit it out.” You groan and he laughs before clearing his throat. 

“Fine.” He stands up tall. “I’m Superman.” Squinting, you make a noise. You have no idea what he’s talking about. Great. His biggest secret and you’re clueless. “The hero…?”

“Oh!” You gasp and nod. “The one from Metropolis?” Since graduation, you’ve been busy with football. Embarrassingly, you get your news from his Facebook and Angel. 

“Yes, that one.” He chuckles, watching as your face goes from one of realization to shock.

“You have powers, too?” Spluttering, he blinks. 

“Too?”

“I'm a witch,” You trail. “Not nearly as cool as being an alien, but I have cooler powers. So you dumped me to become a hero?” Looking between his eyes, he shakes his head and then nods, unable to form a proper sentence. 

“It’s complicated. But let’s get back to your thing. You’re a witch? Your dad is a priest!” He takes a step closer while your back is still to the pillar. 

“And my ma is a witch. We're from New Orleans, that’s a pretty common pairing. You’re the alien! Are the Kents also aliens?” 

“No, I crash-landed here when I was an infant. Your mother is a witch, too?”

“Yes, it’s a family thing. Your folks hid this for years!”

“You hid this for years!”

“Because it’s a family secret!”

“So is mine!”

The two of you pause, staring at one another. Holding your cross, you don’t know where to go from here. Sinking to the floor, you stare up at him while he slowly gets to the ground too. 

“I don’t want to lose you again,” He grabs your hand. “Please, can we start over? With everything on the table, no more secrets. No more running.” 

“Clark,” You wince and he falters. “I can’t go back to us if you’re going to run away again. And I really liked Thomas.”

“You said you liked him,” He grins as though he’d discovered the secret loophole in destroying the bad guy. “Does that mean you’re over him?”

“It’s been a day, asshole. And you didn’t respond to the first part.”

“No-no! I won’t, I promise. We can start slow but I’ve spent nearly a decade missing you. I just need to be close to you.” He pleads with this desperate look on his face that makes you melt. All of your resolve goes flying through the window when your eyes dip down to his lips, red from the cold. Leaning in, you kiss him. 

You’re not clear-minded, this is the years of missing him coming back. It’s because you don’t like being called a liar or being dumped on your birthday so you might as well kiss Clark now that Thomas is gone. You’re acting without thinking, even as he kisses you back and holds you so tenderly. 

He climbs on top of you, caging your legs between his thighs, and keeps you close. Licking his bottom lip he doesn’t waste time in opening his mouth, moaning at the feeling of your tongue touching his. Gripping his head he hisses and pulls away, fumbling with your jacket. You follow his lead, maybe stupidly because you’re eager to get him out of his jacket and then his shirt. He tosses his plaid shirt to the ground and realizes his lips have been off of yours for far too long. 

“Shit,” You hiss when he slams his head into yours, pushing your head against the wooden pillar. He apologizes but you hardly hear it over the kissing and him damn near dry-humping against your stomach. You can feel the wetness through his thick jeans and it gets to a painful point where he takes off his belt. Technically, he rips it off, snapping the belt into two, and undoes the button in a blissful haze.

He shifts on your lap, putting one of your legs between his, and grinds down. His knee presses against your own and you suck in a breath, holding his thighs to keep the pressure there. 

“Can I- fuck,” He pants, moving his hand to his boxers, palming his erection. “I need you,” His eyes find yours, the glasses barely hanging on the tip of his nose. His face is a rosy pink, and flushed and his eyelashes wet. Taking his glasses off, you send them onto the tractor and move your left hand from his thigh to his hard-on. 

“Like this?” You ask, touching him through the wet fabric. Your thumb moves over his tip, using gentle motions that make him whimper against you. His head drops to your shoulder and his hips buck into your hand. 

“Please,” He whimpers, his shaking hand grabbing your own. “Touch me, please.” Shoving your hand into his boxers, he crushes a part of the pillar behind you when your hand wraps around his dick. It splinters and you mutter a spell to fix it while taking care of Clark. 

He’s huge, unnaturally so, it’s probably why he wears such baggy jeans now that you think about it. Smearing his precum against your hand, you start to stroke up and down the shaft. Your other hand starts to work on your own pants but he shakes his head, fumbling with your pants. In his haze, he rips your jeans open and you huff a laugh. 

He apologizes before kissing you, his moans dying inside your mouth while you feel his hand working the outside of your boxers. Your dick twitches in his hand and he uses his free hand to move your waistband low enough that your dick springs out. Glancing down, he spits onto his hand and starts jerking you off. 

“Clark,” You moan, head tilted up while he starts kissing your neck. The noises in the barn are pornographic, the slicking sound of the two of you working on each other, the loud kisses he’s leaving across your body, and the moans you’re both doing nothing to hide. He says your name as his eyes squeeze shut, his hips bucking erratically. 

“I’m close,” He heaves. “Keep doing that, please,” Working his dick, his hand slips from yours but you’re focused on him. Focused on the way his chest rises and falls with each moan, how you can see his moans mixing into the air, how his face is red and his hair is starting to stick to his forehead. He leans back, staring at you as he cums. It sprays, landing on your hand, chest, and neck. He continues to shoot weak spurts that slide down your hand and his dick, coating his boxers and pants. 

But his dick doesn’t go flaccid. 

“‘M sorry,” He pants, watching as your eyes close when he returns to your dick. “It’s the alien DNA… it doesn’t— just let me take care of you,” Nodding, you focus on the feeling of his hand working your dick, how he squeezes every so often and peppers soft kisses against your neck. It doesn’t take long before your back arches and you spill onto his hand. 

Coming down from your high you watch as Clark cums again, this time into his fist. The two of you pant, staring at each other before kissing again. He wipes his hands on his jacket before guiding your hands to his hips.

Yeah, you definitely needed this. 

He walks you home after sneaking you into the house to clean up. You teleport back home, Clark still attached at your hip but a little woozy from the reporting. The two of you catch up while not quite holding hands. It’s a ridiculous sight between two twenty-nine-year-old men but, hey, no one is around to judge. 

“You remember when we went to the Soul Asylum concert?” He brings up when he’s about to leave, finding excuses to stay close to you. 

“Yeah, I saved us,” You nod. He stops walking and you look back at him. “I said a protection spell.”

“I pulled everyone out of the car.” He tells you. You squint. 

“I said the spell first. Maybe it compelled you to pull us out,” You shrug. 

“A spell didn’t compel— yknow what? You’re right,” He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We’re going to Smallville to see the lights at six tomorrow,” You offer, barely hiding your smile.

“It’s a date.” Watching as he flies away, you laugh and head inside. 

“You fucked Clark Kent?” Angel asks once you’re inside the house. Your parents, niece, and sister are already upstairs asleep, it’s just him and his wife watching Hallmark movies. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug, leaning against the archway frame. 

“Really? Because you left this house with white a t-shirt and your pants are open,” Looking down, you see the blue jeans with a busted button and plaid button down you’d grabbed and licked your teeth. 

“Maybe you forgot what I was wearing,” He inhales, leaning back on the couch. 

“Mm, so we won’t be seeing Clark around?”

“Who knows,”

—

The next day you meet Clark in town, he not so subtly walks up behind you and places his hands on your hips to get your attention. You smile but don’t look away from the lights and squeeze his hands as a form of recognition. Your folks notice but don’t comment on it. 

The light show is lovely and you don’t blow any of them up by accident. Which your father thanks you for just before you leave with Clark. 

“So, this is real?” He asks, eyes darting between your own. He bites his bottom lip as he waits for your response and you nod, rolling your eyes when he cheers and leans in for a kiss. He peppers kisses along your face and you laugh, holding his neck with your eyes shut. “I promise I won’t hurt you again.” 

“You better,” You sigh and cross your arms. “I heard Superman is allergic to magic.” 

“Maybe a little,” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours. “You’re my weakness, huh?” He chuckles and you snort, pulling away from him. Holding your cross, you find your family walking along the stalls but your brother keeps an eye on you the whole time. 

Clark grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together and the two of you enjoy the lights and the food for the night. At some point, you end up back at your church. It’s the same as it was when you left, although there’s a pride flag hanging off of the window. Your parents didn’t want anyone to get the wrong message ever again. 

Heading inside because your father never locks the doors, you and Clark settle in the pews and you lay your head along the back of the pew, staring at him. 

“What’s it like? Being an alien?” You ask. “Have you seen the stars?”

“I have,” He smiles, brushing snow from your shoulder. “And it’s… I don’t really feel different. Aside from the x-ray vision, heightened senses, heat vision, and other stuff.”

“Are you a Martian? Is that racist to ask?”

“No, it’s not. I think— I’m the only alien I've ever met. But I’m a Kryptonian, my planet blew up and my birth parents saved me.” He explains. “I’ve never known anything other than Earth, but…” His eyes light up as he realizes something. “My pod had this… crystal and I discovered so much about my heritage. It’s around the time I started pulling away. I have this place in the Arctic, if you’d like to see it.”

“I would,” You nod. “We should go soon, before I have to head back.” He agrees, removing his glasses now that he doesn’t need to keep up appearances. It's more than the glasses, he’d later tell you. Superman stands taller, speaks with more authority than Clark Kent, and a host of other minor differences that add up. It sounds horribly complicated. 

“What’s it like being a witch?” He asks and you huff, staring up at the ceiling. 

“It’s such a process. Did you know— I know you don’t, don’t worry— that every single witch has a prophecy?” You laugh. “My mother was that she’ll become the reason the wolf becomes victorious.”

“The wolf?” He squints. 

“The Chiefs mascot is a wolf,” You explain and he laughs. “Yeah, her prophecy is the reason I’m in football. Her brother's prophecy was he’d become a zookeeper. Some of them are really mundane.”

“What’s yours?” He asks and you shrug. 

“Something about becoming a red witch. I think it was a rose, or maybe a scarlet. I’m not sure. It’s been years since I’ve read it.” 

“What’s a red witch?”

“Honestly, I have no clue. But, when it happens, I’ll know.” You wave. “It’s probably harmless, the Chiefs are red, so I guess it’s that. I dunno. But aside from that being a witch is cool. I have all these powers that I can do whatever for,”

“I hate to ask,” He cringes. You huff, knowing the question. 

“No, I don’t use them to play football. Only a minor protection sigil so players don’t get injured. It’s engraved on their helmets.” He nods. “Don’t go reporting that, though.” You tease.

“It’s off the record,” He laughs and it slowly dies out. “What about us?” Us. There’s an us now. You stare at him and shrug, slowly smiling as an idea creeps in the back of your mind.

“It would be cool if we announced it at the next Superbowl. Like I win and run and kiss you.” You laugh. “Or you’re interviewing me post-game and we kiss.”

“That’s so corny, we should.”

[bahngarang]

kitten heels and cherry kisses

pairing: bf!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 732

cw: slight bleeding

masterlist ♡ based on this ask | ty for my first request ! 🩷

a/n: thx 4 being patient ik it's been a while 💀

it had been a weeks – months, even – since seungmin and yn had had a proper date. yapping to each other over reheated leftovers was fine and all, sometimes even preferred, but... it got to a point where yn wanted something scheduled. where she could dress up a little.

which was how they ended up here. walking back from the restaurant a few blocks away from their apartment complex, as yn attempted to ignore the pain of her blisters rubbing up against her shoes every time she took a step.

it was her own fault, really. she really should have known to break them in before she had worn them out for hours on a date. but, yn had reasoned to herself, they were only kitten heels, and they just went so well with that dress she wanted to wear... she'd thought it would be worth it. 

that was until she was wincing at every pace, trying to work out how much further away her apartment was, how long before she could rip those stupid shoes off. her heels hurt, her ankles hurt, and all yn wanted to do was get home, sink into the couch and put her feet up.

seungmin noticed, of course. he always did.

"are you okay?" he asked softly, squeezing yn's hand in his. it wasn't really a question. he knew something was wrong.

there was no point in denying it. "my feet are killing me," yn complained quietly. the feeling of the slingback rubbing against her heel was uncomfortably grating. 

"i told you not to wear them," seungmin murmured pointedly, rolling his eyes.

yn scoffed, rolling her eyes right back at him exaggeratedly. so maybe she should have listened to his warning this time and chosen the comfortable shoes. she didn't have to admit it.

seungmin's eyes flicked down to her feet, and he pursed his lips, stopping yn in her stride. "you're bleeding."

"oh."

"stubborn ass," he murmured in exasperation, kissing the back of his teeth. there was a quiet pause, only broken by a slight breeze picking up around the two of them, brushing the strands of seungmin's hair off his forehead. "i'll carry you home."

a soft giggle erupted from yn's throat, echoing in the empty street. "you? carry me? seung, i love you, but... you're a little..." she gestured vaguely at his figure. "twiggy."

"i work out... sometimes."

"truly inspiring. i'm still not sure i trust you to hold me up."

"just let me try, idiot. i'm not letting you walk back when your feet are injured."

"never knew you were such a bleeding heart, babe," yn teased, gently poking his side.

"shut up." seungmin kneeled down, undoing the straps of her heels and helped her out of the uncomfortable shoes, her bare feet hitting the pavement. glancing between them and her feet, he narrowed his eyes, turning one in his hand to read the size. "these are too small for you."

"i ordered the right size!" yn protested.

"well, they clearly don't fit." he stood, the pair slung over one hand. "now, are you going to let me help you?"

"... i suppose..."

reluctantly, she allowed him to pick her up, and, surprisingly, he held her weight relatively easily, one arm supporting her back, and the other hooked under her knees in a princess carry. despite being built like a string bean, it seemed that he did have some strength hiding in his lanky arms. who knew?

"told you I could," seungmin murmured as he carried yn back home. "maybe you should believe in me more."

"oh, yeah, because I never support you in anything you do," yn countered sarcastically, wrapping her arms around his neck for more stability.

"shut up," he repeated playfully, silencing any further protests with a soft peck on yn's lips. they were soft, and tasted like the dessert he'd been eating only half an hour before – that, and cherries.

"you stole my lip balm," yn grumbled, although, there wasn't any heat behind the accusation. it wasn't like she really minded.

"mhm," seungmin hummed in response, pressing another kiss to her nose as a cheeky smile crossed his face.

"you're lucky you're cute."

a few weeks later, yn found a pair of heels on the kitchen table, exactly the same as the ones that had hurt her feet the other night – only, they were the right size this time.

taglist: open

permanent taglist: @bugsung @iknow-youknow-hyunho @justwonder113 @diekleinesuesse @velvetmoonlght

[gothicpaperback]

THE ART OF THE DEAL | PART 2 | harry castillo x you

<<< PART ONE: TERMS AND CONDITIONS | PART THREE: LIABILITIES >>>

wc: 3,7k | rating: 18+ for eventual smut | Harry Castillo x You | FALSE RELATIONSHIP

summary: you don’t believe in love. neither does he. that’s the only thing you agree on. after swearing off romance, you’ve built a quiet life in art preservation and avoiding anything resembling vulnerability. but when Harry Castillo, arrogant, infuriating, and stupidly rich, proposes you pretend to be his fiancée for the sake of getting his overbearing mother off his back, you’re thrown. but the money is good and with your detached views on romance and love, you make the perfect polished, commitment-free partner. It’s just a deal; cold, clean and temporary. but pretending to be in love with a man you can’t stand has a way of making you feel things you promised yourself you’d never feel again. especially when he starts looking at you like you're more than just a line item in a contract. And worst of all? You start looking back

the MC female character is YOU. she is not named and barely described physically aside from being able bodied and having hair long enough to grab.

tags/warnings: false relationship, mentions of materialists film, smut, enemies to lovers. i will add more tags as they become relevant.

taglist: @chasingthepoguelife | @tnsmara | @sarahhxx03 | @taehyungxjungkookistaekook | @bluenightmarepost | @kakiki3 | @pascal-mynightlyobsession | @immyowndefender | @dedicatedfangirl2001 | @dotyoureyez |

THE ART OF THE DEAL | PART TWO | VALUATION ERRORS

The first week Harry isn't expecting to hear back from you. You're a woman who ruminates, who takes her time before making a decision like this. By not walking out on him by the end of your conversation he knew you were at least thinking about it. 

But by the end of the second week with radio silence on your end he's starting to have his reservations. Maybe you were a bad choice. Maybe you really aren't interested in money. 

This stress is compounded by a phone call from his mother, a warm woman who doesn't suffer fools. She can be your best friend or your worst enemy. 

"Hello darling."

"Hello mother." 

He's in his private office at work, glancing outside his glass windows to the group of bustling figures outside his doors. 

"Are we still on for dinner next Friday? Your brother and Eleanor will be there." 

Next Friday is the monthly dinner with the family at the estate. A tradition dating back to before Harry and Mason were even born. 

Harry scowls. Why did Mason have to marry Eleanor in the first place? For Harry as the elder brother being single makes him look bad. They were supposed to be eternal bachelors. And you haven't gotten back to him which means he'll have to show up single to this, which means he'll never hear the end of it. Fuck. 

"Yes, I'll be there," he says smoothly. "And I'm bringing my girlfriend." 

You keep looking at the piece of paper held by a succulent magnet on your fridge. The One with the exorbitant fee on it. The one that Harry told you to double. 

That kind of money means helping dad. It means dinners out. It means a nicer apartment. Although, as you glance around, you're not sure you want that. You like where you live for the most part. 

But for Dad? That would be life changing. 

But you can't do this to Gemma. She was so excited about Harry, so delighted about a future. How can you tell her that you're dating him? You can't exactly tell her the truth can you? 

"Harry is paying me an obscene amount just so I pretend to be his girlfriend." 

She'd be either absolutely disgusted or thoroughly disappointed in you. 

You think of Harry in the deli, that watchful gaze of his. Is it possible he's some kind of pervert? A creep?  Well, if they have him on as a client of Adore he can't be that creepy. You know from Gemma that they do extensive background checks. That gives you a bit of relief. 

You should have contacted him by now, you decide. He's probably found another candidate. Your phone buzzes, the hour very late. You're surprised when you see its Gemma. How poetic. You open the text with a bit of trepidation, blown away by the all caps.  

HE'S PERFECT

You smile to yourself at her familiar exuberance.

you said that about Harry Harry who?  Haha

This guy is actually perfect. Great job, listens to me and is so cute!!!! He told me all about his family, his goals. I loved it. Harry barely told me anything. Bradford is the sweetest most genuine man. 

Okay that sounds good so far. You'll overlook the douche bag pretentious name. 

He sounds great.  He said he's looking to get married, he doesn't want to play games. And he's a Leo. You know how rare that is?? Perfectly aligned with me being an Aquarius. 

You hesitate. 

So you aren't upset Harry broke things off? I'm texting you from B's bed right now, I think it's safe to say I could give a shit about that loser.  

You have your answer. 

"Would I have to live at your place?"

It takes Harry a moment to realize who's speaking at the other end of his cell. He's still in his large bed, buried under silk sheets, body warm from sleep.  

Your voice is loud for this early in the morning or late at night, depending on who you ask. You sound like you're pacing back and forth. He clears his throat of sleep.

"Pardon?"

"If I agree to this, do I have to live with you?"

Harry licks his dry lips, pushing himself to a seated position, spine against the headboard. 

"Not if you're not comfortable with it." 

"You are?"

"I figured we'd approach things organically. Maybe we do maybe we don't. Maybe you'll want to live here and sublet your apartment. There's plenty of space and privacy. You'd have the guest room of course. The penthouse is large." 

He hears you scoff. 

"Of course you live in a penthouse. I bet you have a butler and everything." 

Harry grins. "No. No butler. But I do have a live-in chef." 

He hears the quiet pause on the other end. "Wait, were you asleep when I called?"

"Yes." 

"Oh. Okay. Bye." 

The call ends abruptly and Harry just stares at the phone, shocked.

You switch to texting after that, clearly feeling guilty for waking him. He's in the first meeting of the day when the one comes sailing in. He’s expecting it to be a client, so he’s pleasantly surprised to see its you.

Is this a pretty woman kink?

He feels his brows furrow and under the table he replies quickly, thumb swiping.

A what? You find a poor lost soul, dress her up, take her to the racetrack and show up at her fire escape with roses and a limo? Wait have you not seen the movie Pretty Woman? Should I have?  Definitely!!!!!!!!!!!! 

He becomes used to texts that pepper through his week, amused when he sees your name pop up on his mobile. 

Do I have to post photos of us on socials? Are you? I don't want to have to explain that to ppl  No. We don't do social media in our family unless it's for work.  Okay.  We aren't going to visit my family okay? I don't want them caught up in this.  Perfectly fine. 

You don't reply for a day and a half. Harry takes this time to rent Pretty Woman, watching it on his bed, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his abdomen. 

As the credits roll he can't help but reach for his phone. 

Alright I've seen Pretty Woman and no, that is not my kink. This is not that. For one thing she was a prostitute. True.  Secondly I don't ride in a limo. That's incredibly tacky.  Yea, so are roses.  Good to know. What flowers do you like? Why? Boyfriends buy their girlfriends flowers. 

He gets distracted by some work that needs his attention, his focus elsewhere. But at somewhere around 10 pm as he leaves the office, Harry receives the text he's been waiting for. 

Okay. I'm in. 

This is quickly followed up by:

Oh and ghost orchids. 

Relief blooms in his chest and he hurriedly types back. 

Excellent. In that case we need to meet to discuss some things. Tomorrow at  Noba-Inu tomorrow? My car can pick you up.

Harry is surprised to see you call almost immediately. You sound out of breath, walking outside when he answers. 

"Why do we need to meet in person?"

"We need to go over some things. If this is going to work we need to know a bit about each other." 

Harry glances outside his large penthouse windows to see fat raindrops drifting down from the night sky. 

"Just text me details about yourself and I'll do the same." 

Harry frowns. That's not how he does things. "In person is preferred." 

He hears you about to speak, likely to disagree when you pause. There's the honk of a car horn and then your voice comes out tired.  "Okay. What time?" 

More evening traffic noises on your end distracts him. "Where are you?" 

"Walking." 

"This late? Alone?"

"So you wanted to meet where again? Is there a dress code?" 

You sound weird. Harry doesn't know you all that well but he can hear the hesitancy in your tone, your end of the conversation shrouded in mystery. 

"Give me the address and I'll have my driver get you home when you're done at... Where are you again?" 

Silence. It's so quiet that he's sure you dropped the call. Then your voice reaches out steely and cold. 

"I'm fine. I'll get home fine. And I'll make it to dinner tomorrow just fine without your town car. What time tomorrow?" 

You haven't had sushi in forever and at the sight of the restaurant’s name in neon above the door you feel your stomach growling. 

You pay the cab driver with a smile before walking up to the restaurant, smoothing down your dress. You decided to put a little effort into your outfit tonight. After all what Harry is paying you is a very large amount, and you want to hold up your end of the bargain respectfully. 

You walk through the doors only to be greeted by a wide-eyed, smiling man. 

"Hello. Let me take your coat."

The restaurant is small, intimate when you walk in, like most upscale specialty restaurants. It's why it takes months to get in. But as you cast your eyes around the space, you notice that it's completely empty. 

"Please, let me show you to your seat." 

You follow the man with a nod, eyes bouncing around the space, perplexed that it's empty. You didn't Google this place beforehand. You just assumed it would be good. The man leads you to the back of the restaurant, stopping in front of a large jade door, looking at you as he pushes it open. 

"Here we are," the smiling man says, motioning for you to enter. "Have a wonderful meal."

The second you walk through the doors Harry stands at his table, smiling politely and, watching as you come to take the seat next to him in the large space. 

You're still gazing around everywhere as if in a daze, stopping in front of him. You see the large bouquet of flowers he has for you waiting at the table with so many white petals that it looks like a small garden. Ghost orchids. 

"Good evening," he says smoothly, leaning forward. "You look lovely." 

He looks about to kiss you and you pull back, panicking. "What the hell are you doing?" 

Harry blinks at you. "Saying hello." 

You hold your breath as he comes close again, pressing a dry kiss to your cheekbone as your face heats. Oh. 

You take a seat next to him at the large bar table. You gaze in front of you at the head chef who stands before a large workspace with meats, rice, seaweed and much more organized on top of it. 

"I'm glad you made it," Harry says as he nods to one of the female servers flanking the chef. "I wasn't sure you'd show up." 

"Same here." 

You pause when a pretty server with very curly hair comes to Harry and shows him the bottle. 

"Akitabare, Suirakuten, 20 Year Reserve, Daiginjō, Akita." 

You have no fucking idea what that means but Harry seems to because he nods with a thank you.  She presents beautiful porcelain mug of jade green, delicately painted with gold accents. You watch the clear liquid coat each glass, thanking her when she pulls back. 

Harry raises his glass, clinking the lip against yours when you do the same. 

"To an evening of due diligence." 

You smile at that, cheers-ing and taking a ginger sip only to wrinkle your nose at it. Again the barren landscape of the space draws your attention and you tilt Harry's way, voice soft so as not to be overheard.  

"Is this place bad or something?"

His brows pull tight. "Bad?"

"Yeah. Like, is the food good?" 

He stares at you with a weird little smile. "Of course."

"Then why is it so empty?," you whisper. 

Harry suppresses a smirk. "Because I rented it out for the evening.

You eyes turn owlish. "The whole place?"

"Mhm."

"Why the hell would you do that?"

Harry shrugs. "I think better when it's quiet.”

You're twisted in your seat to face him and it feels weird to interact like this. It feels oddly intimate and you would have preferred across from him at some booth in a diner. You turn your attention back to the chef making beautiful bite-sized items that have you drooling

"Do you like the flowers?"

"Huh?" It takes you a moment to come back to the conversation. You look at the massive bouquet and pat it absently.

"Oh. Oh, yes, very much. Thanks a lot. But you really didn't have to do that." 

Harry looks at you for a long time, assessing, much like he did that first day with you. It makes you dart your eyes back to your glass, taking a small sip and trying not to flinch. 

"Those aren't your favorite flowers." 

"What?" You feel your face pricking with heat as you stare back at him. "No. I'm just not a flower person." 

Before he can say anything else the dishes are served to you by the chef who looks delighted when he sees your eyes widen at the assortment of food. 

"This is the Salmon Karashi su Miso and baked crab handroll to start" he tells you in a quiet raspy voice as he pushes forth the second plate. "Followed by the Omakase." 

"Holy shit," you breathe quietly. 

Harry chuckles into his sake glass. The chef and the servers look to Harry expectantly when he says their names. 

"Thank you so much, Hinata, everything looks wonderful. Would you mind giving us a bit of privacy?"

The three of them give a short bow before heading out the side door leaving you and Harry completely alone. 

"Dig in," he says when he sees you eyeing the food. 

You don't need to be asked twice. He hasn't even finished the sentence before your chopsticks are digging in. He watches you in curiosity as you smile around a roll. 

"Just so you know, nice stuff like this is wasted on me," you say popping another roll into your mouth and chewing. 

"Why do you say that?"

"I mean, I'm sure you have a refined palette. You grew up on nice stuff. I didn’t. I really like pizza from that place on seventh. My favourite drink is whatever's cheapest on the menu." 

Harry watches your profile as you speak, amused at the nonchalant way you explain, without a hint of embarrassment. He likes that about you, he decides. 

"All I'm saying is that when it's just us you don't have to splash out." You pop another roll into your mouth. "I get when we're on fake dates or whatever. But stuff like this? We can just meet for coffee." 

"Noted." 

Harry begins to eat slowly, savouring each bite. Meals are his favourite indulgence; good food and good wine lift any bad mood. 

"So, we're supposed to be learning about each other right?" You ask, food tucked into one cheek. 

"As well as answering any lingering questions you may have about this."

You look off into the distance and he watches your jaw rise and fall as you think. "I guess I'm worried I agree to this and you change your mind or I don't get paid." 

"I assure you that you will be paid regardless if I change my mind or not."

"How often?"

Harry leans back, his lower lip stuck out in thought. "Every two weeks?"

"Seems fair."

You tap your chopsticks against the plate, still looking hesitant. Harry regards you, the room feeling empty and overbearing. You seem to shrink into yourself, anxious. 

"Would you feel more comfortable with a contract?"

You glance Harry's way, surprised by the question. It makes sense; he's a financier and probably writes contracts like this for breakfast. Maybe you should say yes, but what would be the point? You don’t have a lawyer that could look it over.

"No," you answer eventually. "Not right now."

Harry nods, taking a long sip of sake. "So if this is going to work we need to sell the idea of being a couple. Background, goals, that sort of thing." 

"Right." You twist to face him head on, legs crossed. "So, how long are we supposed to have been dating for?"

"Not long. A month or two?"

"Okay. Where did we meet?"

"Adore. It's believable." 

"Is that the matchmaking service you met Gemma on?" 

Harry nods. "Yes."

"You have siblings?"

"Yes," Harry says between sips. "A younger brother, Mason. And you?"

"Only child." You l give an absent hum. "Pets?"

"None. You?"

"None. But I would like a fish one day I think. Maybe. I don't really like the commitment."

"Speaking of which, Gemma mentioned you're divorced." 

The air is sucked from the room, your reply pushed out between gritted teeth. “Yes.”

"Do you have contact with your ex?"

"No." 

He can tell by the change in your disposition that he's almost pushed too far. This is a topic that will be aborted and maybe touched on at a later date. Maybe. He picks a safer topic as he works his way through the omakase. 

"Do you like to travel?"

Your shoulders lower. "Yes. I backpacked through Europe before college." 

"Favourite place?"

"Prague." You take another bite of nigiri. "You?”

“Vienna.”

The two of you talk for the next hour, exchanging the kind of information that you would with any first date. Favourite music, movies, hobbies. 

"I know you love to sketch," Harry observes. "What else?"

You lean back, stomach full and mood lightened. Harry is a decent conversationalist, even though this half feels like a job interview.

"Museums, plays. I like anything cultural, really. I can't get enough of learning about the world." 

You're nothing like Harry expected after that first meeting. You're funny and open and he feels more at ease than he anticipated being this evening. 

"What about affection?" You ask suddenly, warmed from the food and the drink. "Are we hand-holding people?"

"I don't see why not."

You frown. "But like, not overly PDA, right? I know you're paying me but making out in public doesn't exactly sit well with me."

Harry gives a dimpled grin. "No. No excessive PDA. The odd kiss may be required." 

He notices the way that your eyes dip to his lips and then back. You open your mouth t mo say something when the door opens to the side and the chef reappears with a large plate. He points to the selection as he places it down between you and Harry on the table. 

"We have Namagashi on the left, Hojicha Pudding in the bowls and Anmitsu in these glass jars. I hope you enjoy." 

He shuffles back out as you and Harry thank him. Harry watches you survey the offerings, your eyes darting from piece to piece overwhelmed with the spread. 

You eventually pick one of the colorful namagashi in the shape of a flower and pop it into your mouth, reminding Harry of your previous conversation. 

"What's your favourite flower? Really."

You look a bit embarrassed, your face scrunching. "I don't have one," you answer truthfully. "I just said ghost orchids because I didn't think you'd actually be able to find them." You shoot a toothy grin his way. "Guess I should've known better." 

He laughs lowly, melodic and warm.

"Can I call you something other than Harry?" You ask, taking another candied flower from the tray. "Like, H or Castillo or something? Harry is just such a goofy sounding name."

"I'll try not to be offended by that," he says. "When we're alone, feel free to call me whatever feels right. When we're with family its Harry." 

"Okay." 

"What made you agree to this?" Harry asks you. "For a while there I thought you might change your mind and leave me hanging." 

"I almost did, but, like most people I need the money, so..." You trail off, eyes averted. It embarrasses you to admit this. 

"May I ask what for?"

And as if a curtain has been drawn over the moment, he sees the way your spine stiffens and the way your jaw tightens. That brief interlude of openness and earnestness is now wiped away, replaced by that thin veneer of disdain that you have hold for him. 

"You may not."

Harry's jaw clicks to the side in thought, eyes digging into the side of your face, but you don't look look his way. 

"If that's everything I think I better get home," you say tightly. "I have a long day tomorrow." 

Harry stands as you do, extending an envelope your way. You take it hesitantly, noting your name on the front. 

"What's this?"

"Goodwill payment. Next one arrives in two weeks. Let me know if you prefer a check or Venmo." 

You flinch as you shove the envelope into your dress pocket, feeling strange about this whole encounter.  He's much less annoying than you remember, but he's also a lot nosier. Why should he care what you need the money for? 

He pulls something else from his interior jacket pocket, holding it out to you. It's a credit card with your name on it. 

"This is for any extra expenses that pop up," he says handing you the credit card. "There's an automatic $10,000 limit so let me know if you need more." 

You stare at the card for what feels like forever looking at the sleek black gloss, the way your name looks in delicate gold.  Ten thousands dollars?

"How do you know I won't go crazy and buy a bunch of shit?" You ask, eyes finally rising to his. 

"Go nuts," he shrugs. "Just nothing I have to wear. An ex of mine loved to tell me how to dress." He grimaces. "I'm a grown man. I can dress myself." 

You take the card in hand, feeling the heft of it, certain that it’s heavier than your basic credit card. You slant your eyes his way.

"I'll be honest, Castillo, I wasn't even thinking of buying you anything." 

Harry grins, full teeth, full dimple. His chuckle is low but resonant in the small space.  

"So," you offer, "what next?"

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"For what?"

Harry smiles at the suspicion in your voice. 

"For our first date. You get to meet my parents." 

authors note: all of your comments and reblogs made it easy to write the next chapter. 💋💋💋💋

i got the line dividers from @saradika-graphics

[wandaslovey]

𝒽𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓀

➺ mommy!wanda x reader

not my gif

wc ~ 1.9k

cw: fluff that turns into smut, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

you have your hand clasped over your mouth to try and silence your breathing. you inhale slowly through your nose, willing yourself to get a grip on yourself.

“5…”

“4…”

“3…”

“2…”

“…1”

you hear wanda reach the end of her countdown, her voice raising half an octave as she calls out the number one.

“alright little dove, here i come..” she calls out in a sing song voice. her tone was tantalizing and teasing, only heightening your excitement and adrenaline as you hide in the big cabinet built into the kitchen island.

“now where, oh where, is my little one hiding…”

you can barely hear her footsteps as she walks through the first floor of the house, her voice sounding a little muffled and far away from where she was currently standing.

“are you going to make it harder for mommy this time? you know it’s never very fun when you just let me win,” she taunts, her voice sounding a little bit closer than before. you hear her throw open the pantry door, her first guess as to where you might be hiding. she makes a small noise that sounds like approval. “oh good, not here in the pantry. looks like you learned your lesson from last time… although, i think you wanted me to catch you in there.. you didn’t even struggle, not even a little.” her voice was wicked and teasing. she loved to taunt you. you hear her walk closer to your hiding spot. you hug your knees tighter against your chest, your heart running a hundred miles per hour.

“are you in.. here?” she calls, opening the door to the supply closet adjacent to the kitchen. “hmm..crafty little dove. i swore i heard you here rustling around.” she shuts the closet door. you breath out a small sigh of relief, thinking maybe you really did outsmart her this time. you lean your head back, miscalculating your position inside the already small space, the sound of your head hitting the wood resounding through the otherwise quiet kitchen.

you hear wanda make a mock gasp of surprise and you instantly straighten up in your hiding spot, your arms wrapped so tightly around your legs as if you hugged them tight enough, it would protect you from being found.

she walks around the kitchen island, chuckling to herself as she kneels in front of the cabinet you were hiding inside. “malen’kaya ptichka…nowhere to run, my darling.” she pauses and then all at once, throws the cabinet doors open, a victorious grin on her face. “aha! there you are.. how did you fit inside here malyshka?” she marvels, looking around the enclosed space that normally houses the pots and pans. you look at her, your expression that of a bashful child who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“i..i moved them..” you stutter out in a small voice. your were a bit breathless, your cheeks a little flushed from the adrenaline currently coursing through your body.

“oh? before we even started playing? you sneaky little thing… you planned this didn’t you?”

your cheeks blush a deeper shade of pink as you nod your head, a cheeky little smile threatening to crack across your face at your own innovativeness.

“hmm, very clever little dove.. but it’s time to come out now. mommy’s found you, and now she wants to claim her prize…” her voice is alluring and for a second you contemplate obeying, but figure it would be more fun if she forcibly removed you from your hiding place. you make a show of resting your back against the wall of the cabinet, settling yourself as if to get comfortable in your spot. “don’t want to..” you say stubbornly, your chin jutting out.

“what do you mean ‘you don’t want to’? .. you’re really going to make mommy pull you out?” her eyes glaze over with a mixture of amusement and sternness. she always did find your cheeky attitude endearing, but she also had to keep you in line. she wouldn’t ever let you forget your place. you nod your head in silent response to her question, your face fixed in faux determination (it was really just stubbornness).

“oh really? you’re not going to like it if i do..” she warns, scooting her kneeling form closer to the opening of the cabinet. even though it was futile, you try your best to worm your way back into the corner, scooting away from her small advance.

“did you just scoot away from me? you’re such a brat. come…here,” she grunts gently as she reaches in and pulls you out of your corner mid sentence. as she drags you out, she picks you up, intent on setting you on the countertop. you fight against her hold half-heartedly, not really trying as you wanted to get caught in the first place. “it was a clever spot, i’ll admit. but don’t think you won’t have to put all that kitchenware back after i’m done with you.” she ignores your protests and sets you on top of the counter nudging your thighs open so she can stand between your legs.

“mommy wants easier access,” she offers as a brief explanation. “access to what?” you ask meekly, feigning ignorance as you easily slip into your roll as her innocent little girl. “to what?” she echoes, her voice dropping an octave. “do you even need to ask, milaya?” she then leans in, capturing your lips with hers as she plants not one or two, but three chaste kisses on your lips, humming against them as she does so. her hands resting just above your bent knees slide up your naked thighs, pushing your already short dress even higher. you squirm under wanda’s attention, which doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

“mm, someone’s getting a little squirmy.” she pulls back briefly, admiring the sight of you already slowly unraveling. she leans back in, kissing you again. “fuck, you taste good,” she moans softly into your mouth, one of her hands squeezing your soft thighs. you whimper, your panties quickly becoming wet with her ministrations. she tuts and pulls away.

“awwh, what’s the matter sweetheart?” you whine at her feigned ignorance, your legs kicking out petulantly. “you’re being mean..” her face twists into a fake sympathetic frown. “mean? i have no idea what you’re talking about. you like mommy’s kisses, don’t you?” her hand then slips under the very bottom of your dress, her fingers grazing over your panties. you frown, wriggling backwards away from her as she continues to tease you. she chuckles at your silly little attempt to escape her, her hands already hooking under the backs of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of the countertop. “come back here..” her eyes were darkening, flecks of green only visible here and there between the blackness. you can feel your own slickness now dripping onto your thighs, your panties already soaked through. with your legs open around wanda’s frame, you could both smell a hint of your arousal.

“don’t think you’re going anywhere.. mommy played your little game and found you, and now.. mommy’s..going..to..devour you…” she speaks slowly, emphasizing each word as she leans down until your lips are pressed together. she kisses you passionately, her desire for you evident in the kiss. her tongue slips into your mouth, forcing it open as she dominates the kiss. her teeth then bite into your bottom lip, her fingers hooking onto your panties. you moan, feeling her teeth tug on your bottom lip before releasing it. she fights with the material of your panties for a moment, your position on the counter making it difficult to take them off. she groans in frustration before bunching the material together at one side and ripping them off forcefully. you gasp in surprise, her sudden roughness catching you a little off guard. she quickly discards the soiled material, tossing it to the side. your legs press against her sides, your cunt dripping and aching for her touch. she mashes her lips against yours once more, her fingers dragging along your inner thigh before sliding to your core to feel your wetness. she hums her approval, the vibrations lightly tickling your lips. her thumb swirls around your clit a few times as two more of her fingers tease your entrance, gliding up and down your opening. she pulls away from your lips panting, hardly taking a second to breathe before she’s leaning down and her mouth is on your cunt. she licks a firm stripe up your dripping slit, her mouth closing around your clit as she sucks it into her mouth. you moan, your body arching into her face as your hands desperately grasp at the edges of the countertop. your legs threaten to close at the sudden intense stimulation. “nuh uh, you be a good girl and keep these legs open for me, hm?” her tongue swirls and prods at your pussy, never letting up for a second no matter the volume of your squeaks and whimpers. she then thrusts her tongue into your hole, effectively fucking you with it. she occasionally abandons the motion but only to swipe her tongue back up to your sensitive little nub. she shakes her head back and forth, all but moaning into you as she, well… devours you.

you feel that familiar coil in your belly, your hips steadily rutting against her face. her hands hold your hips firmly, her fingernails sure to leave crescent shaped marks once she finally lets you go. “ahh- mommy! i’m gonna cum! fuck- i wanna cum! please!” you whine, your hips bucking more wildly as you chase your high. she chuckles darkly against you, the sound muffled with her head stuffed between your legs. you can hear the embarrassingly wet sloshing sounds as she laps at your drenched pussy. she ignores your pleas, knowing you won’t cum until given permission. “mommy- mommy please! let me cum!” you could feel the coil about to snap and you knew that unless she stopped, you were going to cum without her permission. “cum for me, pretty girl. cum for mommy.” she encourages, her hands still squeezing your hips to try and still your erratic movements. at last, you allow yourself to fly over the edge, the coil finally snapping as you cum all over her pretty face. her hands hold you firmly, her tongue not letting up until she was sure she dragged out every possible morsel of pleasure from you. you whimper and whine, her tongue slowly licking up your now overstimulated cunt. “too much mama…too sensitive,” you mewl, your hands gently pushing against her head.

she hums, placing one final kiss on your clit before taking your hands in hers and kissing them both. she straightens up, standing before you with a satisfied smile on her face. she places a quick kiss against your lips before helping maneuver your body so you dress was back over your bum, now covering your unclothed center. “thank you mommy..” you murmur gently as you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her close. “for what, honey?” she tilts her head, unsure what you were thanking her for. “for loving me like you do..” you smile cutely at her, your head slightly bowed as you peak up at her through your lashes.

“oh detka, we’re just getting started…”

[hollyoongs]

⤷ DO YOU NEED HELP, BOSS? (PART 1/2)

시놉시스 ┆secretary!𝘬arina, ─────⠀ceo f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +7k ꒰ ⌗ smut with plot꒱ ℰditoral 4 GIRLS COMING SOON! 𓂂

─────⠀unrequited longing (turned mutual), voyeurism (implied), masturbation, overheard moaning, mutual pining, desk sex, oral (both), fingering, praise kink, slight degradation ("slut", "good girl"), switch couple!!, possessiveness ("own me"), dirty talk (mutual), power reversal, overstimulation, public setting kink (office), mommy kink (brief), light spanking, aftercare implied, mutual obsession, mention of toys (double penetration dildo, strap-on), one scene of partial undressing (Karina strips the reader), intense eye contact and control play, breathy neediness, teasing, orgasm denial avoided (but close), emotional tension driving physical desire.

NEVER USED "Y/N" FOR A STORY, BUT HERE IT IS, CURSIVE LETTER MEANS IT'S SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED IN THE PAST

The power you held was absolute and unquestionable. Every decision you made rippled through the walls of your company, and no one dared to challenge it, not because they were afraid, but because you are the best. The glass of your office windows reflected that authority—high above, unreachable. Until Karina came along.

She was efficient, poised, and always dressed impeccably in tight skirts and button-up shirts that hugged her pretty curves. And let's not forget a messy yet elegant hairstyle that showed her beautiful features; her shy behavior was her charm in contrast to how she matched your dominant energy at meetings. She always had her very organized folder at her side, her little notebook writing carefully crafted questions as the executives were speaking—ones that left them speechless and you with a proud smile, proud of the decision of accepting her in your company after many failed secretaries.

In a way, Karina was flawless in her role. Although the way she handled herself wasn’t the only thing that made you notice her. It was the subtle tension that built over time she gave after a couple of months of working with you, the lingering glances that lasted a little too long, and the accidental touches that felt anything but accidental.

In a very short amount of time, she had a way of breaking through the walls that you created with your blood, sweat, and tears, and you hated that you started to like it.

Meetings became the highlight of your day, watching how she tactically maneuvered through conversations, challenging others with a grace that had you hooked. And every time she met your eyes after silencing an executive’s weak argument for some sign of validation in your face, you felt that pang of pride with something more dangerous hiding there—desire. A desire that you realized way later.

You couldn’t deny that it became more than professionalism. The way her fingers brushed against yours when she handed you documents, how her breath would hitch just barely when you stood close to her to discuss quarterly reports, how that composed exterior of hers cracked just enough for you to notice how deeply the tension simmered beneath the surface.

But you kept it together. After all, you were the CEO. Control was what you thrived on and will always be that way. You had never let anyone, especially someone under your employ, cause you to lose your grip on that power.

Oh, how wrong you were until that day—damn that fucking day.

It was right after a meeting; it wasn't as perfect as usual. You could feel the anger boiling inside you. The marketing group of the company did their work quickly, resulting in very bad reports, and handed them to Karina. You both walked to your office. Karina was more worried about your state after rescheduling the meeting and organizing one with the marketing group that day in a few hours.

"Do you want a glass of water, maybe some iced tea?" Karina asked, her voice soft but laced with concern as she watched you angrily pull the tie of your perfectly tailored suit. She couldn’t stop her eyes from trailing over your movements, very interested in the slow reveal of skin as you undid the top button of your shirt. She should have been focused on calming you down, but instead, she was mesmerized by the way your chest rose and fell with each frustrated breath.

"Karina, I'm so fucking mad," you snapped, tossing the tie onto the chair as you collapsed into it. "They had a month to do this, and the work looks like shit. Even a first-year university student could have done it better." You slammed the papers on your desk, the sound echoing through the room, but it was the sight of you sinking into the chair, head thrown back and eyes closed in an attempt to relax, that made her swallow dry.

Your fingers went to your shirt, opening it slightly at the top, revealing the valley of your breasts. Her gaze lingered there longer than it should have; she found out that she liked you like this—angry, vulnerable, undone. Her mind navigated any scenario, all of them far from being PG.

"I'm going to bring some iced tea and let you relax until the meeting with the marketing team," Karina said softly, doing a small bow, ready to escape from the reason for her thoughts. You opened your eyes at her gesture, watching her quietly.

"Don't come to the meeting with the group. You can go early today, Karina," you replied, standing up and grabbing your tie again, your composure getting calmer for your own good. As you slipped it back on, you glanced in the mirror a few feet away from your desk, your reflection staring back at you, still tense from the mess earlier. "And don’t worry, I’ll go get my tea. I need some fresh air."

With your purse and phone in hand, you walked toward Karina, stopping right in front of her. She stood still, her wide eyes following every move you made. Without thinking too much, you reached out, wrapping her in a small hug. Her body stiffened in surprise as you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you for everything you’ve done, Karina," you whispered. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

The sincerity in your voice lingered in the air, and before she could react, you pulled away and walked out of the office, leaving Karina standing there, frozen in place. Her mind raced, still processing the fact that you—her boss, the person she'd been secretly harboring a crush on for months—had just kissed her.

She turned slowly, her gaze fixed on your hips swaying as you walked away, the loose fabric of your office pants hanging just right. She swallowed hard, heat flooding her cheeks as her mind just short-circuited. She’d always admired the way you moved, the confidence that radiated from you even in moments of frustration. But seeing you like this, relaxed, offering a rare glimpse of your softer side—it was almost too much.

For a moment, she stood in the empty office, her fingers brushing over the spot on her cheek where your lips had touched. She replayed your words over and over in her mind. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

Her heart raced, her mind torn between professionalism and the burning attraction that she had for you. She wondered if you knew. If you felt it too, she wanted to believe in that.

Hours had passed since you kissed her on the cheek, and Karina had tried her best to focus on her work, but the tension had only grown more unbearable inside her. She watched you as you worked late into the evening, your brow furrowed as you wrapped up some final documents. The sight of you only made her more restless, making her look (or at least she thought so) more pathetic than professional.

Karina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, surprising herself when she felt her panties soaked through, even gasping softly once she confirmed it. Her body responded to the images that wouldn’t stop playing in her mind—your lips against her cheek, the warmth of your embrace, the casual dominance you exuded.

With her heart beating on her chest, she excused herself quietly, slipping out of the office and heading straight for the bathroom. She was thankful that the building was nearly empty by now, long after most employees had gone home. Her steps quickened as she entered the spacious corporate bathroom, relief flooding her as she realized there were no cameras, no one to catch her in this state.

She felt a mix of shame and desire as she jumped to the large sink, giving her back to the mirror. Her breath was shaky, but that didn’t stop her from dragging her fingers under her skirt and tugging her soaked panties aside. The cool air hit her damp entrance, making her shiver. Karina bit her lip, her fingers grazing her slit as she sat on the edge of the sink, her legs spread wide in need.

Her mind wandered immediately back to you—adding to today’s events, she thought about the way you had looked at her every time she did something right, the way your lips turned into a proud smile, and the heat of your body so close to hers whenever she needed your approval with decisions. She imagined your hands on her, how strong and sure they would feel, gripping her hips, pulling her against you.

She moaned softly, her fingers circling her clit with a slight pressure, her eyes closed, losing herself in the fantasy. She could see you now, standing in front of her, watching her with that same cocky smile you always had in meetings. Your eyes dark with lust, your chest pressing against hers as you leaned in, your breath hot against her skin.

"Fuck, just like that, boss," she moaned lowly, her other hand grabbing her clothed breast to add pleasure.

She somehow felt like a pervert, lost in thoughts that shouldn’t belong in the office. And yet, the warmth between her thighs pulsed with every memory, every word, every praise.

Karina's breath hitched as she dipped her fingers inside herself, imagining it was you, your hands roaming her body, claiming her. Her hips bucked instinctively, chasing the pleasure that was building inside her. She bit down on her lip, hard, to keep herself from crying out as her fingers worked faster, plunging in and out of her soaked entrance.

She could picture it so vividly—the way your lips would feel on hers, so sure that they were rough and demanding, the way you would push her up against the wall of your office, your body dominating hers completely. She wanted it. God, she wanted you. She wanted you to take control, to take her apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but pure, raw desire.

“Oh… Y/N…” Karina moaned, her voice barely a whisper in the empty bathroom, but it felt deafening to her ears. The way your name slipped past her lips only fueled the heat burning inside her. She pressed her fingers deeper, her slick walls clenching around them as she imagined it was you filling her, your hands all over her body, dominating her just like she craved.

Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as her hips rocked against her hand. Each stroke of her fingers was a reminder of how much she wanted you, how much she needed you to claim her. In her mind, she could feel your hands gripping her ass, pulling her roughly against you, your lips trailing heated kisses down her neck, leaving marks that only she would know were there.

“More… please,” she whimpered, her other hand teasing her breast through the fabric of her blouse, pinching her nipple between her fingers. The sensation made her arch her back, pressing harder against the cold mirror behind her. The contrast between the chill of the glass and the heat of her body sent shivers down her spine.

Karina’s movements became more frantic, her fingers plunging even deeper when she set her feet next to her in the sink, and faster inside her dripping core, imagining the moment when you’d finally snap. When you’d push her onto your desk, your eyes only on her, and tear off her clothes without a second thought. The look on your face—cocky as you took control, your lips crashing against hers in a bruising kiss, your body pressing her into submission.

The fantasy felt so real that Karina could almost taste your lips and feel the roughness of your touch as you claimed her in every way she’d dreamed of. Her hips bucked wildly, chasing the orgasm that was quickly building, her body trembling with need.

“Y/N… fuck, please…” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a breath as her body teetered on the edge. The slick sounds of her fingers moving in and out of her soaked entrance filled the bathroom, the echo only making her wetter.

And then it hit her—a blinding wave of pleasure that ripped through her, making her whole body tremble. Her back arched violently, her legs shaking as she came hard, her walls clenching around her fingers. A strangled moan escaped her lips, and she quickly bit down on her hand to stifle the sound, her heart pounding in her chest.

She sat there for a moment, slumped against the sink, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her body was still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her fingers still inside her, but she was sure that they were white-coated with her arousal. She slowly took them away and stood up on the floor, her hands gripping the sink when her shaky legs almost made her fall.

She stared at herself in the mirror, her flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair a stark contrast to the composed secretary she tried so hard to be around you. She knew that no matter how hard she tried to hide it, the desire she felt for you wasn’t going away. If anything, it was growing stronger, more unbearable by the day.

With a sigh, Karina quickly cleaned herself up and adjusted her clothes and hair, trying to shake off the guilt that always seemed to follow these moments of weakness. But as she dried her hands, one thing was clear—her need for you was far from just a passing fantasy.

Karina’s heart dropped into her stomach the moment she opened the bathroom door. There you were, standing right outside, your eyes widening slightly as you met her gaze. The air between you felt heavy immediately, the color on your cheeks giving away more than you probably intended. You knew. You must’ve heard her.

Her body froze for a split second, panic flooding her veins. She could see the flicker of curiosity, perhaps even amusement, in your eyes, but it only made her more anxious. She couldn’t face you—not after what she had just done, not with the sound of your name still lingering on her lips from the pleasure she’d just experienced.

Without a word, Karina darted past you, beyond words embarrassed. Her mind screamed at her to leave, to escape before she made things even worse. She didn’t dare look back as she sprinted toward her desk, her heart racing as she gathered her things in a hurried frenzy. She grabbed her bag and her coat, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the zipper.

She has always wondered what would happen if you ever found out, if you would push her away or if you would give in to the same temptation that haunted her every waking thought, but it wasn’t in her plans to be this fucked.

The thoughts ran wild in her mind as she turned toward the stairs, desperate to leave the building before she had to confront you again. She couldn’t bear the thought of what you must be thinking. How long had you been standing there? Did you hear her moaning your name?

She nearly tripped over her own feet when she accidentally stumbled into the stairwell, the pounding of her heartbeat louder than her footsteps echoing in the empty space. She needed to get away—far away. Her mind was spinning, her arousal now tainted with overwhelming guilt. What had she done? What if you called her out? What if this ruined everything?

But as she reached the bottom floor, panting from both the run and the sheer panic consuming her, one thing stuck in her mind like an anchor: You had been standing there. Watching her.

Karina's hands trembled as she unlocked her apartment door, barely registering the sound of it closing behind her as she hurried inside. Her mind was a blur of panic and humiliation, replaying the moment over and over again.

She dropped her bag onto the floor, rushing to her desk. Her laptop sat in its usual spot. She wasn’t even thinking straight; she simply wanted to escape the nightmare she’d created for herself for being reckless. Without thinking twice, Karina opened it, her fingers flying over the keyboard like they had a mind of their own.

She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t face you after this. The shame was too much. She had crossed a line, and now there was no going back.

Subject: Resignation Letter Dear CEO Y/N, I apologize for my actions earlier today. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have, and I understand if you’ve lost any respect for me. I’ve been dealing with some personal feelings that I should never have let interfere with my work, and for that, I’m truly sorry. Effective immediately, I will be resigning from my position as your secretary and employee of the company. Please know that I have nothing but the utmost respect for you as a leader and a person, and I deeply regret putting our professional relationship and trust at risk. I will come in tomorrow to submit my official resignation letter and collect my belongings. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Sincerely, Yu Jimin.

She stared at the words on the screen, her chest tightening as she hovered over the send button. It felt like the only solution, the only way to escape the weight of her mistake.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

The email disappeared from her screen, and with it, a part of her felt like it was breaking. All the late nights, all the effort she’d put into working for you and entering that company—it was all coming to an end because of one moment of weakness.

Her phone buzzed on the desk after a couple of minutes, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She picked it up, her breath catching in her throat when she saw it was a message from you.

CEO Y/N: Karina, we need to talk. Since tomorrow is Saturday and because of the Chuseok holiday, the building is closed. I invite you to have a meeting in my house since I don't find it appropriate to talk about this at a restaurant. This is the direction: xxx-xxx-xx, and please be there at 3pm punctually.

Her stomach dropped.

Karina stared at the message blankly. The tone of the text wasn't angry, at least not from what she could tell, but there was a seriousness in your words that sent chills down her spine. She threw her phone on the bed, not a second thought on her actions.

She bit her lip, pacing around her room as anxiety gnawed at her. She had already sent the resignation email, but this meeting seemed to complicate everything. If she didn’t show up, it would make things worse—like she was running from the situation. Going to your house? That was a whole different level of intimidation.

But there was no escaping it now. You had invited her, and Karina knew she couldn’t avoid this confrontation forever. She needed to face you, if only to try and salvage some semblance of professionalism—or at least to explain herself.

The next day arrived too quickly, and Karina found herself standing outside your house at exactly 3 p.m., her nerves threatening to consume her as she raised her hand to knock. She was dressed conservatively, trying to hide the turmoil she felt inside, but her palms were sweating, and her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

Before her hand even made contact with the door, it swung open, and there you were. Dressed casually in a pair of slacks and a simple blouse, your eyes met hers, and Karina’s breath hitched. You looked strangely calm, yet there was something intense in your gaze—too intense, which made her skin tingle.

“Karina,” you said softly, stepping aside to let her in. “Come in.”

She hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold; the atmosphere inside your house was warm, contrasting with the nerves she was clearly showing.

You led her to the living room, and as Karina took a seat, she couldn’t help but notice how close you were to her, your presence overpowering in the quiet space. Her pulse quickened as she tried to figure out what you were thinking when you simply sat in silence.

“You sent me an email,” you started, your tone neutral with your eyes fully on her. “About your resignation.”

Karina swallowed hard, nodding slightly, unable to find the words to speak. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, the intensity of your gaze making her squirm on the spot.

“I read it.” You leaned back slightly, your back hitting the sofa. “But I’m not accepting it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in shock. “Y-you’re not?”

You shook your head. “No. I think there’s more to talk about before we make any decisions.” Your voice softened as you leaned forward once again, resting your elbows on your knees for support. “Karina… You're one of my best employees. You know how many people I had to fight for them to not give you corporate cards? I can't lose you for… that.”

Karina's heart was pounding, her pulse racing as she listened to your words. She couldn't believe what she was hearing—after everything, you still wanted her to stay. Her fingers trembled in her lap, the tension between the two of you at the mention of yesterday.

"You fought for me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, still processing the gravity of your words.

You gave a small nod, your eyes softening, locking onto hers. “Of course I did. You’re invaluable to this company and to me. The way you handle things, how you think on your feet… I couldn’t ask for a better secretary. But this”—your eyes flicked down to her nervously fidgeting hands—“this situation is something we need to talk about."

Karina’s mouth went dry, her throat tightening, the reality of the situation settling in. She had crossed a line, and now you were confronting it head-on, yet once again, there was no anger in your voice, just a calm determination. It was the part of you that had always drawn her in—your ability to remain firm, even when things got messy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “I never meant for you to… I mean, I didn’t think you’d see—”

“Oh, I did see,” you interrupted gently, standing up and moving around the coffee table to sit directly beside her on the couch. The closeness sent a jolt of electricity through her body. “And I’m not upset, Karina.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide in confusion. “You’re not?”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “No. If anything…” You broke eye contact with her, your voice dropping in volume, “It made things clearer for me.”

Karina took a deep breath. The proximity between you two was almost suffocating; she even could feel heat radiating from your body, making her feel dizzy.

“Clearer?” she asked, her voice trembling.

You nodded for the second time, your gaze never wavering after looking back in. “I’ve noticed how you look at me, Karina. How you react when I’m close. I didn’t want to cross that line either, but seeing you like that…” You paused, the look in your eyes giving away how you were thinking about your next words. “It made me realize I want this just as much as you do.”

Karina’s world tilted on its axis. She had been consumed by guilt, certain that her feelings were one-sided and inappropriate, but here you were, confessing that you felt the same pull toward her. Her breath caught in her throat as she searched your eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all she saw was sincerity.

“I…” Karina’s words failed her, her mind spinning multiple times, trying to comprehend what was happening. She wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing she could think about was how close you were—how easy it would be to close the gap between you if either of you took that step further.

"Don't say anything. You can leave now. See you at the office, and have a good Chuseok." You said, standing up, the air carrying a tension that enveloped you both like a blanket. Karina remained seated, her eyes wide, processing both your confession and the sudden cut. To her, the room felt smaller and quiet to the point that she could hear every heartbeat echoing in the silence between you.

“Wait—” Karina finally managed, her voice rising a little in disbelief. She looked up at you, desperation mingling in her face. “You can’t just leave it like that. You can’t just drop a bombshell and walk away, boss.”

You hesitated, your hand resting on the back of the chair as you turned to face her. “What do you want me to say? I’ve been trying to keep things professional, but whatever this is between us… it’s becoming impossible to ignore. And you are way too smart to know that I’m right.”

Karina stood, the sudden urgency in her movements letting you know how she was belying the vulnerability she felt. “I don’t want to ignore it. I want to understand it. I want to understand us.”

You took a deep breath, taking into consideration her words. You’d never imagined you would find yourself in this position, torn between your responsibilities as her boss and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you. Even more, you’d never imagined yourself falling for someone. “I’m afraid of what this means. I don’t want to jeopardize your career or mine,” you admitted, softer.

Karina stepped closer, a new version of her, a determined one, shining through. “I’m not worried about that. I’ve wanted this for so long. Just… give me a chance to show you that it can work. That we can make this work.”

Her earnestness tugged at something deep within you. You wanted to say yes, to take a leap into the unknown with her. Yet, because of your positions, the risks involved—it all held you back.

“Just give me time to think,” you finally replied, not even wanting to hide the tone of regret. “I need to sort through my feelings and figure out what this means for us.”

As you walked toward your front door, you felt her gaze on your back. When you opened it, you glanced back at her. “Enjoy your Chuseok, Karina. I hope it’s a good one.”

“Okay,” Karina said, walking to where you were. “I’ll wait. Just don’t take too long.”

With that, Karina stepped out of the house, the door clicking shut behind her and leaving you surprised.

All of that led you both to this moment a month and a half later, each of you unable to keep your eyes off each other whenever you two were in your own bubble, perfectly hiding from the rest of the coworkers. At least, that’s what you were intending to do. What you didn’t see coming was Karina’s bold moves.

Karina had taken things to a new level; her outfits had transformed into a tantalizing display that left little to the imagination. The long pencil skirt that once fell to her knees now clung to her curves, shortened just enough to give a small taste; the first three buttons of her blouse were undone, showing a glimpse of her cleavage—a line that beckoned your gaze like a beautiful temptation.

During meetings, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Her confidence was even more intoxicating, and every sly glance exchanged felt charged. When the office was quiet, Karina would often approach you, her steps deliberate as she approached your desk with that playful smile, a smile that you know to catalogue as one that promised trouble.

“Need a little help, boss?” She’d tease, leaning just close enough for you to catch a whiff of her floral perfume, a very common sent that made you feel shivers down your spine.

You’d look up, pretending to be busy with work, though every fiber of your being was attuned to her presence. “I’m fine,” you’d reply, your voice betraying a hint of nerves.

In the past, she would have been shy and cut it; this time, she wouldn’t even think of letting it go. As the days went on, Karina found ways to brush against you as she leaned over your desk, her hands lightly grazing your arm while she offered suggestions on projects. The massages she gave you were discreet, her fingers kneading your shoulders just enough to bring you back to the moment yet leaving you craving more. The thrill of being caught made every touch feel electric, the boundaries of your professional relationship bending with each fleeting moment.

One afternoon, as the sun streamed through the office windows, casting a warm glow over everything, and once again, everybody left, Karina slipped into your office with an almost predatory grace. She closed the door behind her, her eyes sparkling. “I thought we could use a little break,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper that made your pulse quicken.

“What kind of break?” you asked, attempting to keep your tone steady, but the question hung in the air, the fair-skinned girl leaving you waiting for a response.

With a smirk, she stepped closer, her hands finding your shoulders like she used to do, fingers digging in as she started to massage you. The pressure was firm yet gentle, and you could feel the tension of the day melting away under her skilled hands. “The kind that helps you unwind, boss,” she murmured, leaning in closer. You could feel her breath against your ear, her lips just inches from your ear.

You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into the sensation. But the reality of your situation crashed back down. “Karina, we can’t—”

“Can’t what?” She interrupted, her tone teasing, and the brief glimmer of seriousness flickered in her gaze that, even if you didn’t see it at first, you thought could pierce you. “Can’t enjoy what we both want?”

The boldness of her words sent your heart racing. You opened your eyes to find her staring at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “This is risky,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction. The truth was, you wanted her—needed her—but the repercussions of crossing that line were terrifying.

“Maybe it’s time to take that risk,” she replied, her fingers pausing as she searched your eyes for a sign of hesitation. “What if it could be more than just… this?”

Her words hung between you. In that moment, with the door locked and the world outside fading away, you realized the only thing standing in your way was fear, your fear. Karina was offering you something thrilling, something that could change everything.

Taking a deep breath, you weighed your options, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you have in mind?” you finally asked, her eyes shining as she left your shoulder alone.

"I want to take control," she said, her voice low and sultry, laced with a challenge. The way she said it sent a shiver down your spine, awakening a part of you that craved surrender.

“Take control?” You repeated, laughing a little. “You really think you can?”

"Why do you even question it? You’ll know it if you give me the chance, boss," she replied, showing a confidence that you only saw in meetings.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness. “And what exactly does that entail? You think you can just waltz in here and take charge?”

Karina stepped closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I don’t just think about it—I know it. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? The way I make you feel? All that tension building between us?”

Her words struck a chord within you. She was right about the tension; it was undeniable. Every encounter, every lingering touch had only added fuel to the fire. “Okay, let’s say I’m intrigued,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light, though the seriousness of the situation settled over you like a heavy blanket. “What’s your plan?”

"I'm starting like this." Karina grabbed the back of your neck, her lips connecting with yours in a surprising kiss.

The sudden action hit you like a jolt of electricity, igniting every nerve ending as she pressed into you, her warmth enveloping you completely. It was unexpected, but the rush of passion that sent your heart to beat faster couldn’t compare. You found yourself leaning into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to her hips, drawing her even closer.

Karina deepened the kiss, her mouth moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. It felt both exhilarating and forbidden, making you lose yourself in the moment. You could taste the sweetness of her lip gloss, her warm tongue spicing things up.

As the kiss lingered, you felt her fingers tighten around your neck, grounding you in the dizzying rush of desire. Every worry about the implications of this moment melted away, leaving only the raw need that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. She pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with yours, her eyes dark with desire. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she teased, a satisfied smile playing on her lips at your state.

"Oh, shut up," you shot back playfully, your need for her burning brighter than ever. This time, it was your turn. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a heated kiss, making her turn in surprise.

Karina moaned into the kiss the moment you introduced your tongue into her mouth, starting a small fight with her. You hissed as she playfully bit down on your tongue, clear pleasure as she smiled.

In one swift motion, she pulled off the coat of your suit, casting it aside like it was nothing. The sudden exposure of your blouse made your heart race, but you didn’t have time to process it before she ripped the buttons off, leaving your blouse gaping open.

“Karina!” You gasped, shock washing over you with the expensive shirt being torn apart.

“I’m buying you another one,” she replied with a wicked grin. She busied herself with taking it off as well as tossing your bra aside, her mouth immediately finding one of your nipples.

The sensation of her warm mouth enveloping you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, pressing into her as she expertly teased and tugged your left one with her lips. The movements made you gasp, each pull drawing you into desperation.

Your composure was far from gone; too focused in the moment, your mind swirling with sensations as you surrendered to her completely. The office, the risk—it all faded into oblivion. All that mattered was the heat of the moment that soaked your entrance, delight at the way she took charge, and the way you willingly followed.

Her fingers moved deftly to the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down and letting it pool around your ankles. The cool air rushed against your skin, only heightening your arousal.

With your feet, you let the skirt drop to the floor, her fingers slide down your thighs, coating them with the wetness that had begun to gather quite fast. It sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation. The anticipation was almost unbearable; you wanted her to take you, to fill that yearning space inside you.

“Sit on the desk,” she commanded. Without hesitation, you did as she said, climbing onto the polished surface. The cool wood felt exhilarating against your heated skin, and you leaned back slightly, watching her with eager eyes.

Karina started to take off her own clothes, slowly peeling away the layers that separated you. She was beautiful, her confidence radiating as she left only her bra and underwear on. With a practiced grace, she gathered her hair into an updo, ensuring not a single strand fell across her face. The sight of her—barely clothed, focused, and so undeniably in control—made your heart race.

“Karina…” You breathed, your voice laced with need, feeling how you clenched around nothing.

Without responding, she got on her knees, her face hovering just in front of your entrance. The proximity made your breath hitch, every nerve ending alive and completely ready for her.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, although the answer was clear as day.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your mind too consumed with the sensation of having her so close. “Just give it to me,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Needy girl,” she replied, her eyes darkening with hunger. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your sensitive skin, and you could feel every ounce of her intention radiating toward you.

Her tongue darted out, teasingly brushing against your entrance, sending a rush of adrenaline through your body. You gasped, instinctively pushing your hips forward, craving more of her touch. Karina grinned; she was enjoying your reaction, and with a gentle but firm grip, she held your thighs apart, making sure you were open for her.

She started painfully slow, exploring you with her tongue, swirling and teasing as she expertly drew out every moan that slipped past your lips. You couldn’t help but writhe on the desk, your body responding to every movement she made, the waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Karina,” you gasped, the name escaping your lips like a prayer. “That feels so good; you’re doing so good, baby.”

She responded by intensifying her ministrations, adding pressure and speed as she buried her face deeper between your thighs after the praise. The world around you blurred, your mind covered in pure ecstasy. You could feel the knot of tension tightening within you each second, ready to unravel at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured against you, the vibrations of her voice sending another wave of pleasure shooting through your body. “So responsive.”

You gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white as you fought to keep your composure. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain any semblance of control. “I’m close,” you breathed, your voice trembling with urgency.

Her answer was her palm slapping your wet cunt; your moans got higher as she put inside two fingers with ease, “Fuck!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as she thrust in and out, surrendering completely to the pleasure, allowing yourself to be swept away in your building orgasm. She chuckled a little before her tongue went back to work, flicking your swollen clit to push you closer to the edge.

As she worked on you, you couldn’t pass on the fact that your body was coiling like a spring ready to snap. “Fuck, baby, I—I can’t hold it,” you cried out, your voice echoing in the quiet office.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured, “Let it all out. I want to feel you come apart from me.”

Her eyes locked onto yours with a smoldering intensity as she focused on sucking the life out of your clit, the pretty view sending a rush of bliss through you. You gasped as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over your whole body. You cried out her name; Karina didn’t relent, continuing to overstimulate you through your climax, her tongue drinking every last bit of orgasm from you until you were left tired and gasping for air on the desk.

“Lay on the desk; you’re going to eat me out,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a swift motion, she pushed everything off your desk, scattering papers and office supplies to the floor without a second thought. You barely registered the chaos as your heart raced.

As you settled back onto the desk, you watched her climb up, her movements showing the urgency of how badly she wanted you. The sight of her—the way she positioned herself—only added to your arousal. She leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on her lips, the mingling flavors driving you wild.

She separated from you to take her panties off, making you lick your lips, beyond ready to eat her out. Karina positioned herself, kneeling on the desk at the side of your face, exposing her glistening core to you. You could see how she was clenching around nothing like you did previously, her body eager and ready for your touch.

“Come on, boss. Own me,” she urged, her voice filled with need. You grabbed her thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her skin, and pushed her down, your mouth finally making contact with her entrance. As your tongue brushed against her, her hands went straight to your hair, fingers gripping tightly as she gasped for air.

“Such a good girl,” she breathed, her words starting a fire deep within you. You could see from above how she was slowly losing it, her mouth opening to let out the sweetest moans alive.

You began to lick and tease her, your tongue exploring her folds with an eager hunger and fast pace, far from how she started. Each stroke was met with a delightful response from Karina, her moans becoming background music. Her hips instinctively moved toward your mouth, grinding herself into your mouth and urging you to take her deeper.

As you continued, you found a rhythm that seemed to drive her wild. The taste of her arousal filled your senses, becoming addictive to you in seconds. You focused on her clit, swirling your tongue around the sensitive nub, watching as her body reacted with excitement.

“Just like that,” she encouraged, her voice desperated. “Don’t stop.”

You loved the way she felt on top of you, her hands tangled in your hair even more, pulling you closer as if trying to mold you into exactly what she needed. Each gasp and moan fueled your desire to give her everything you had.

“Please, don’t hold back,” she begged, her voice trembling with urgency. “Fuck me, please.”

With a wicked grin, you lifted your gaze to meet hers, locking eyes as you plunged your tongue deeper inside her. The sight of her pleasure, the way her back arched and her breath quickened, drove you to push harder, to give her every ounce of pleasure you could muster.

Karina’s gasps turned into cries, each one a beautiful melody that blasted in the dimly lit office. You loved the power of bringing her to this point, of watching her submissive self before you. “Pussy so good for me,” you murmured against her, the vibrations of your words shaking her whole body.

“God, I’m so close,” she cried out, her voice strained as she clung to you. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”

You obliged, working your tongue with renewed vigor, alternating between teasing licks and deep thrusts as you sought to bring her to the brink. Her body quivered, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as she mumbled incoherent words, too fucked out to speak coherently.

“Come for me, Karina,” you urged, your voice dripping with lust as you gave spank after spank to each of her ass cheeks, causing her to jump in your face, her arousal covering the tip of her nose. “Can you also be a good slut and give me your cum?”

With that encouragement, you felt her tighten around your tongue, her body trembling with no signs of stopping. “Yes, mommy!” she cried, her voice loud and proud as she let go, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

You savored the moment, relishing the taste of her release as it washed over your tongue. Karina’s body shook beneath you, the sound of her moans filling your ears as you continued to pleasure her just like she did, even going as far as to hug her thighs with force with no chance to escape.

“Mommy!” she screamed with a broken laugh, and you moaned in her cunt, practically making out with it. You decided to give her a break; she took that moment to relax her body.

You pulled back, gazing up at her with a cocky grin. “Such a good slut for me,” your voice was low, more focused on kissing her thighs as a reward.

Karina looked down at you, breathless and flushed, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” she replied, a smile breaking across her face.

You couldn’t help but return her smile, the connection between you deeper than ever. “I think I’m starting to understand,” you said softly. Karina sighed happily before speaking.

"Let's go to my place," Her face was still showing the bliss of the moment, and you raised your eyebrow.

"Can I ask why?" you said, smiling at her state.

"I have a double penetration dildo and a strap-on I want to use on you."

─── TO THIS ANON! thanks to my baby @awqken that decided for me, here is my upgraded Karina fic, there are a few things added and a few eliminated bc they were awful (imo), but I hope you enjoy it #HAPPY PRIDE

[pinkslipxox]

Not Ready:

Summary: A conversation with your friends makes you worried about a touchy subject and Billie comforts you

Warnings: fluff, angsty-ish(?), mentions of smut 🥰

part two of Not Ready can be found here 🤗

—————————————-—————————————

The Californian sun shines brightly over the open-air mall located at the heart of Los Angeles. You are sitting with your friends at a café enjoying a latte, listening to a story that one of your friends is telling when in the midst of the conversation, your phone chimes. A smile instantly spreads on your face when you see that it is a text from your girlfriend, Billie.

‘Hey, pretty girl! Just checking up on you. I hope you’re having a good time with your friends. Can’t wait to see you soon,’ the text reads followed by a few heart emojis.

You quickly type: ‘Hi, babes! I am, thank you. See you when I get home’.

“Who’s making you smile like that, Y/N?” one of your friends tease in a sing-song voice.

“Billie,” you admit with a sheepish chuckle as you put away your phone. Your friends giggle, sending knowing looks to each other.

“How are things going between you two?” the other muses, her eyes glowing with delight.

“Things are going so well! She treats me like a princess… and we love each other so much,” you gush, your cheeks warming up as your friends giggle and ‘aww’ like schoolgirls.

Despite inviting Billie to your outing, she had insisted that you and your friends had fun by yourselves. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that you’re missing your girlfriend. In the time that you two have been together, you’ve built quite a strong bond. And you couldn’t be happier.

“I bet you two can barely keep your hands off each other,” your friend smirks as your other friend wags her eyebrows playfully.

“Tell us eveything!” your other friend insists with a giddy smile.

You had a feeling this topic would be brought up. In the beginning of your relationship, you voiced your desire to save intimacy until further along in your relationship, wanting to take things slow. Billie has been nothing but patient and understanding, and while you know that she’s willing to wait for as long as you need to, you know that you can’t just make her wait forever.

“There isn’t that much to say,” you force a chuckle, shifting awkwardly in your chair. “Billie and I… we haven’t… y-y know…”

“No way! Really?” your first friend gasps, her eyes wide with shock.

“What are you two waiting for, Y/N?” the other interjects.

“We’re just taking it slow. And she’s been very respectful,” you defend, sipping your latte to fortify yourself.

Your first friend huffs. “But you two have been together for almost a year now! Billie’s probably loosing her patience.”

“It’s just sex, Y/N. Not rocket science,” your other friend adds with a chuckle although it comes out more like a scoff.

You quickly change the conversation, not wanting to feel even more embarrassed that you already are. Instead of listening to your friends talk, all you can hear are their words echoing in your ears. The more you resonate on their words, the more you realize that your friends are probably right about how Billie must be feeling. Your last relationship ended for the exact same reason, but Billie is not at all like your ex. She wouldn’t break up with you over something like this… would she?

“I have to go,” you say quickly and leave before any of your friends can say anything.

The drive home is quicker than you except it to be. It hardly gave you enough time to decide what you were going to do when you saw Billie. But the moment you see her at the entrance, smiling at you, you make up your mind.

“Welcome home, mama!” Billie exclaims happily as she makes her way over to you with her arms stretched out. She hugs you tightly, pepping kisses to your cheek.

“Thank you, Bills,” you say softly, and you swear that if she listened closer, she could hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“Let me help you with those,” Billie insists as she takes your bags from your hands. “What did you get? Anything cute?”

“Just some jeans and a new pair of shoes,” you murmur as you follow her into your shared bedroom. You glance at the bed, biting your lower lip, and all of the sudden it looks much more intimidating. And you find yourself asking if the bed has always taken up so much space.

“How are your friends?” Billie asks sweetly and your heart twists at the mention of them.

“They’re fine,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, forcing a smile. Of course, Billie sees right through it. She puts the bags down and makes her away over to you, her hands resting on your hips, pulling you closer. Her ocean blue eyes look at you with concern.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You—“

You cut Billie off by pressing your lips on hers, passionately, and for a moment Billie is frozen before she instantly kisses you back. Her grip on you tightens, her warm tongue massaging deliciously with yours, and you can’t help but moan into her mouth. You feel her smirk against your lips, and it gives you the confidence you need to trail your lips along her jawline and down her neck, making her gasp.

“God, Y/N,” Billie murmurs huskily, her voice low and rough, as she tilts her head up to give you more access. You suck gently on her sensitive, just the way she sometimes does to you, and the sound of your name being moaned reassures you that you’re doing something right.

Billie draws your mouth back to hers, the kiss more urgent, almost desperate than the one before. Your pulse quickens at the thought of the next step that needs to happen, and with that, you guide Billie to the bed. A soft moan escapes your girlfriend’s lips as she falls back gently on the bed. You straddle her, your heart beating against your chest, your mind scrambling to figure out what to do next. Then, as if to read your mind, Billie flips the two of you over.

“You’re so beautiful,” Billie whispers, gripping your chin lightly, and you notice that her eyes have darkened yet the usual softness is still visible in them, comforting you a bit.

“I love you, Billie,” you say softly, and Billie’s lips spread into a smile.

“I love you, too, Y/N,” she replies sincerely before brushing her lips against yours.

Then, to your great surprise, Billie gets off you.

“W-what’s wrong? You’re not going to make love to me?” you panic and Billie kisses your forehead, letting her lips linger there before pressing her forehead gently against yours.

“Not tonight, sweet girl,” Billie murmurs softly and your heart sinks.

“Why? Don’t you want me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and for a moment you don’t recognize it. With a soft sigh, Billie pulls you to her lap, her arms wrapped around you tightly.

“Of course I do, Y/N. But I can tell that you’re not ready for this yet. I want this to be memorable for you. For us. And I love and respect you too much to do this when you’re not one hundred percent sure about it,” Billie says, her voice soft but firm.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper as tears slowly begin to roll down your face. You’re embarrassed. And yet at the same time relieved. Deep down, you know you aren’t ready. Not anytime soon.

“You want to tell me what brought this on?” Billie asks, tucking a few loose stands behind your ear.

You take a deep breath. “My friends asked me how things were going with each other. And they asked if we’ve ever been intimate… and when I said no, they were in shock. One of them even said you were loosing your patience with me. That’s why… because… I-I’m sorry, Billie.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love,” your girlfriend assures you, gently wiping the tears away with her thumbs. She gives you a gentle smile. “I’d wait forever for you, Y/N. Not just for sex but for anything. Please don’t ever forget that.”

“Promise me that one day, when we do it, it’ll be special,” you murmur softly, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes.

“I promise,” Billie hums before sealing her promise with a gentle kiss.

“Cuddle me?” you request and Billie smiles softly.

“Whatever you want, Y/N,” she replies before laying down on the bed again, her arms reaching out for you. You snuggle up to her, grateful to have a girlfriend like Billie.

[raevpng]

in between (pt. 3)

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

masterlist

part one

part two

a/n: i can’t believe ive actually finished this 😭 i’ve gotten an overwhelming amount of support for this fic and especially for this final part, and although it’s long overdue, im thankful for anyone who’s waited, and is willing to read this 🥹 i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

—

it was dark by the time the laughter in their room (well technically azzi’s room) died down. their hands remained tangled as the ending credits of some sappy rom-com rolled, the light casting soft shadows across the walls, illuminating the cozy chaos of pillows and blankets they’d built around themselves. everything outside the room had blurred away hours ago, all that remained was this space, and the quiet warmth of this special unnamed thing they’d built inside it.

azzi’s breathing had slowed, deep and steady. her sugar rush from the candy bowl her and the blonde had consumed hours ago died down heavy. her head was tucked comfortably against paige’s shoulder, fitting like a puzzle piece that brought a special warmth to her chest. her breathing should’ve been an easy sign that she was asleep, maybe to everyone else. but paige knew better. and well, the way azzi’s fingers still played with hers slowly, subtly, gently tracing just the edge of her pinky, said otherwise.

paige always thought azzi looked absolutely unreal. even before all this had happened, before she could put a name on the softness she felt in her chest when they locked eyes, or the awe that she couldn’t help but feel every time they had the pleasure of sharing the court together. but right now? god, she thought she could learn every language through and through yet, nothing will never be enough to articulate just how much she felt.

she could barely believe the last 24 hours had really happened — that azzi really reciprocated the feelings she’s been trying to push down for god knows how long. that paige had official permission from azzi’s parents to properly pursue the other girl. that they’d kissed.

as she leaned in, her nose brushing softly against the curls at azzi’s temple, something fizzy bubbled up in her chest. a giddy, breathless kind of awe.

she couldn't help but admire the girl nestled in her arms. she looked straight out of the blonde’s dreams, unreal and unwilling to fade. her lashes rested delicately against her cheeks, her pouted lips slightly parted, still tinted with the lip balm azzi had been stealing from paige since their shared airplane ride home, and something softer, something sweeter. her hand, warm and slightly rough from the years of hard work she’d poured into basketball, still curled in paige’s, intertwined with hers like it belonged there. like it had always belonged there.

paige let herself look this time, properly look. like she’d done in secret when azzi looked away, or when she was across the room watching azzi’s pure talent and passion and that jump shot paige had always been a little envious of. her eyes moved slowly, committing every feature to memory in the kind of quiet that felt sacred. the curve of azzi’s cheekbone, the slope of her nose, the spot just below her ear where her pulse fluttered, where paige wanted to press her lips just to feel it.

paige couldn't help but physically bite her lip at just how right they looked like this. in the privacy of the enclosed space they made theirs, a beginning to the new chapter they’ve made. together.

“i can practically hear your thoughts.”

azzi’s voice was low, rough with sleep, but there was a smile in it.

paige blinked, caught. “was it that loud?”

“mhm,” azzi murmured, shifting slightly so she could look up at her. “they’re screaming.”

“sorry,” paige said, completely not sorry. her voice dropped, soft and sincere. “i just… i can’t help but look at you.”

azzi’s breath caught, her heart stuttering so loudly that she swears she could hear it echo. she ducked her head attempting to hide the heat blooming across her cheeks, but it was pointless. her blush, the pretty pink that paige loves so deeply was already spreading to the tips of her ears.

“i don’t think i can get used to this.” azzi admitted, the warmth of her face causing her to duck her head shyly.

paige tilted her head. “used to what?”

“you looking at me like that.”

and with azzi looking at her with the brown eyes paige fell into and could just never get out, paige thought she couldn’t be blamed for the dopey, lovesick smile that took over her face — so full of adoration it was dizzying. “guess you’ll have to try.”

she reached out, brushing a thumb along azzi’s jaw, feather-light. the moment hung between them, fragile and charged while their breaths caught softly. unlike last night when their world had shifted, when everything between them had spilled into the open, there were no fumbled words, no sweaty palms, no unsure glances.

paige leaned in and kissed her.

soft. slow. sweeter this time. more sure. it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t hesitant — just full of everything they hadn’t been able to say, everything that lived between them in glances and silence and late-night facetimes. azzi sighed against her lips, and paige shivered at the sensation, the reminder that azzi was hers to feel like this. that she was hers to comfort after every bad game, hers to praise every win.

that after all this time, she was finally hers.

when they finally pulled apart, their foreheads stayed pressed together. their breaths mingled in the tiny space between them, grins stretched that azzi felt like her cheeks stung with the best pain. like they couldn’t believe they got this lucky.

“azzi?” paige’s voice was barely above a whisper. her thumb was still moving in slow, nervous circles across the back of azzi’s hand.

“hm?”

“can i…” she hesitated, swallowed, glanced down. “i have… fuck. hold on.”

azzi blinked, her brows knitting as paige untangled their limbs and started rummaging wildly under the blankets.

“paige… what are you doing?”

“fuck, i had this planned out,” paige grumbled as she dug through the piles of blankets that concealed her phone somewhere. “damn i can’t believed i fumbled like … the most important moment of my life.”

“paige,” azzi began fighting back a confused giggle, “i still don’t know what’s happening.”

a muffled “aha!” came from somewhere beneath the comforter before paige popped up triumphantly, phone in one hand, her other quickly finding azzi’s. the blonde hesitates, already knowing she’s gonna get made fun of before admitting, “i may or may not have written out a script to ask you out,” she mumbled.

there was a beat of stunned silence.

then azzi burst into laughter — the kind that made her crinkle her whole face, eyes squeezing shut, tears escaping at the corners.

paige looked utterly betrayed.

she let the other laugh her heart out as she prayed with all her might that somehow, magically, the ground would swallow her up right now.

“you wrote it down?” azzi giggled, burying her face into paige’s hoodie. “where, the notes app?” she deadpanned.

paige stared at her.

and the look on her face was telling enough.

“you’re joking.”

“are you seriously bullying me right now?” paige pouted, yanking her hand away and turning her back dramatically. “i’m trying to be romantic and you’re out here roasting me.”

“no, no i’m not bullying you!” azzi said through laughter, crawling forward to tug her back by the hoodie. “come back, big baby.” she couldn’t help the soft fond laugh that escaped her lips as she dragged paige back to their bed.

“rude,” paige mumbled into the blanket.

“no,” azzi said, voice gentler now, wrapping her arms around her from behind. “it’s perfect.”

paige let herself be pulled back into the bed, still sulking to maybe just maybe get azzi to love on her a bit more.

“come on, i’m listening.” she sat down, smiling as the blonde shook her head trying to stay sulky at the other but failing terribly.

paige glanced over, cheeks pink, and handed over her whole heart like it was nothing.

“okay,” she said, straightening up with mock seriousness. “but you can’t laugh. this is a very serious conversation about my very serious feelings… in our very serious relationship.”

“got it.” azzi nodded like she was in a board meeting, ignoring the butterflies erupting at the word ‘relationship’.

paige opened her notes app, cleared her throat dramatically, and began: “azzi, ever since we became friends, i knew you were special…”

but then she paused. looked up.

paige trailed off as she looked into those damn brown eyes that she could just never resist. those lips that captivated her and that face that paige was so hopelessly gone for, and she couldn’t help the swoop in her stomach at just how beautiful the girl in front of her truly was.

fuck it.

she locked her phone and dropped it on her lap, hands reaching out the hold azzi’s who’s face was painted with surprise.

paige laughed, eyes already glassy. “okay, listen. i know we said a lot last night. and honestly, we really did cover… everything.”

azzi giggled softly. “we kinda did.”

paige smiled softly at the sound, “i wanted to tell you it isn’t enough for me, and i don’t think it ever will be.”

she shifted closer, tucking a stray curl behind azzi’s ear. her voice dropped to a whisper. “i don’t think i ever really knew what it meant to feel pulled to someone… until you.”

azzi’s breath hitched, and paige saw the way her lashes fluttered, the way her eyes started to shine.

“i don’t wanna know what life is like without you. not now that i’ve had this version of us. this close, this soft… this real.”

her hands rose, gently cupping azzi’s cheeks. she leaned in just slightly, close enough to feel azzi’s breath on her lips.

“i don’t know if i can explain it right, but it’s like… every version of my life that makes sense has you in it. not just beside me on the court or cheering me on, though, that’s part of it, but like… this. you and me. tangled up in blankets, kissing like we have all the time in the world. soft. close. yours.”

azzi blinked, and the tears fell freely now. “paige…”

“i don’t wanna miss out on a life where you’re mine. i want this, i want us. and i wanna ask you if you would you do the honours of going on a date with me?” her hands were trembling slightly.

and of course, azzi noticed.

she always did.

azzi lifted one hand, kissed the inside of paige’s wrist, and rested their foreheads together.

“i’d love to,” she whispered, voice thick with tears, smile sweet enough to ruin paige completely.

paige let out a shaky breath, like her heart had just exhaled for the first time in forever.

“okay,” she whispered, smiling so wide it hurt. “okay.”

—

azzi paced her room, anxiety buzzing under her skin as a mountain of clothes loomed threateningly on her bed. her closet doors were flung wide open, shirts and dresses tossed in every direction, as if one of them might magically solve her growing wardrobe crisis.

it was ridiculous—she knew it was ridiculous—but paige had insisted.

even though she was staying with the fudd family for the next few months while she finished her quarantine, paige had insisted on making their first official date feel special. real, she’d said, with that soft smile and even softer voice that made azzi’s brain short-circuit.

“az!” paige had whined earlier that morning while they were brushing their teeth side by side, foam clinging to their grins. “this is our first real date! i gotta impress you with my game!”

azzi had tried to resist. she really had. she’d even rolled her eyes and said, “you already live with me, how are you even gonna pull this off?”

but then paige had pulled that pout—the pout, the one she only ever used when she really wanted something to go her way—and suddenly azzi was sighing, defeated and lowkey charmed out of her mind, agreeing to let her girlfriend leave the house just so she could come back and pick her up like it was a scene in a movie.

now, with the minutes ticking down and her not yet girlfriend but not just bestfriend probably already on her way back from god knows where, azzi was frantically trying to pull herself together.

“it’s not even that serious,” she muttered, staring into the mirror. “she’s literally staying here. she’s seen me in a charcoal face mask and one sock.” she snickered to herself.

after what felt like a full closet tornado, she finally settled on high-waisted denim shorts and a simple black tank top—the same one paige had complimented her on weeks ago with a not-so-subtle once-over and a shy, “you look so good in that.” her curls were half-pulled up, a few pieces left out to frame her face just the way paige liked, and she quickly added a swipe of mascara and some lip gloss before slipping on her shoes.

she was about to rush out when the doorbell rang.

immediately, she bolted, feet barely touching the floor as she scrambled toward the front door, heart thudding with anticipation. she reached for the handle, only to be cut off by a sharp throat-clear behind her.

“dad, what are you—”

tim stood there, arms crossed in dramatic seriousness, blocking her way. before she could protest again, he opened the door himself.

paige stood outside in jeans, a white tank top with a pink striped button up shirt open, and her signature sneakers, holding a single rose with the goofiest, most bashful smile azzi had ever seen.

she looked… nervous. and painfully cute.

“come in,” tim said flatly, and paige blinked, clearly thrown off by his sudden stern tone.

azzi, standing frozen behind him, gave her an apologetic shrug. this was not part of the plan.

“so,” tim began, turning to face paige fully, voice dropping into full dramatic dad mode, “you’re taking my daughter out tonight.”

“uh—yes, sir,” paige said, standing a little straighter, rose gripped like a lifeline.

“no drinking,” tim continued. “no funny business. no later than ten. i expect her back safe and sound. Understood?”

azzi’s soul physically left her body.

“dad, be so serious right now. you were just playing 2k with her-”

“this is different!” tim interrupted, eyes never leaving paige. “she’s taking my baby girl on a date. it’s sacred. it’s protocol.”

paige let out a stifled laugh, biting her lip hard to keep a straight face. “yes, sir,” she said with a salute, trying and failing not to crack.

that was enough to break tim’s fake sternness. he shook his head with a huff and waved them off, muttering something about “young love” as he disappeared back into the living room.

paige stepped in closer, finally letting herself appreciate the girl in front of her. her azzi.

god she could get used to that.

“you look…wow. az, you’re beautiful.” she sighed, sheer honesty bringing out the blush only paige seemed capable of getting painting azzi’s dimpled cheeks.

“says you.” azzi whispered weakly as paige walked closer, leaning down slowly to press a soft kiss to the younger’s cheek.

“sooo…” paige trailed off with a cheeky grin when they pulled apart, matching blushes, “what was that about?”

azzi groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “i believe you just got the dad talk.”

paige grinned and handed her the rose. “worth it.”

“you’re so cheesy.” azzi’s blush contrasted with her words as she reached out to take the flower, heart blooming at just how charming paige was being.

they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, both a little breathless with nerves and giddy energy.

“you ready?” paige asked softly, holding out her hand.

azzi slipped her fingers into hers without hesitation. “so ready.”

–

“this better not be some sick prank,” azzi mumbled, glancing at paige as they turned down a quiet side street, their hands brushing between them. she didn’t know what exactly it was – the gold of the sun setting above them, or maybe the way her fingers kept reaching for hers before pulling away swiftly like she was just aching for their fingers to find their rightful place intertwined with each other – but something was causing the thudding of her heart to be all too much.

and it’s sickening really, that she couldn’t find it in her to mind.

paige grinned, the same lopsided, trouble-making smile she wore every time she was up to something. “ouch, have a little faith in me, baby.”

it’s sick, the way that name rolled so sweetly and so easily off her tongue.

“mhm.” she hummed trying to feign casualness. like paige didn’t just throw off the cool front she’s been trying to exude since they left her house, “where are we going anyway?”

“i told you,” paige walked beside her bumping the other ever so slightly, “i found a hidden treasure!”

“in my own home town?”

“yep!” paige grinned proudly, “see, anyone can take you to dairy queen. only i can take you to a pirate-themed ice cream shop with no marketing budget and a grandma who scoops the cones.”

“what the fuck?” azzi barked out a loud laugh, “you’re lying.”

“i would never lie about ice cream.” paige replied solemnly, just as they reached the hand-painted sign—shiver me sundae, complete with a popsicle in a pirate hat.

“oh my god.”

paige was right, it was truly a hidden gem. it was practically invisible, tucked between a laundromat and a rusted bike repair shop, and azzi had passed this street hundreds of times without noticing. and now she was standing here, wondering how the hell paige found this — and more importantly, why it was suddenly the most endearing thing anyone had ever done for her.

“told you,” paige said all too smugly, holding the door open with a little bow. “ladies first.”

azzi stepped in with a little thank you, pausing to take in the sight in front of her. the space was barely bigger than an average living room, the walls painted a vintage mint green with three small, wooden, rickety tables on one side while the other was glowing with mismatched fairy lights. it was empty except for a woman in her sixties, grey hair pulled in a neat bun humming along to an old radio behind the counter. her eyes brightened at the sight of customers, the comforting smile only an elder could give painting her face.

“hello!” paige chimed charmingly, earning a bright greeting from the lady, “double scoop,” paige said like a regular. “mango sorbet please!”

then, turning to azzi, softening a little, “what about you, baby?”

baby.

it really was unfair how a simple word could make her brain short circuit multiple times, but here she was again, melting at the name and how soft paige said it.

azzi pretended not to hear it, focusing instead on willing the blush off her cheeks. “uh… vanilla. with rainbow sprinkles, please.”

paige smiled so hard it looked like it hurt. “of course you want sprinkles.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” azzi narrowed her eyes, fighting back a smile.

“nothing,” paige teased, handing her the cone. “just that it’s so you.”

their fingers brushed in the handoff, and it was such a fleeting touch, but it left azzi breathless anyway. paige’s eyes flicked up to hers, just for a second, and it was like they both forgot how to exist in their own skin.

“such an adorable couple.” the lady said, effectively shutting up the small banter with the girls blushing wildly.

they thanked the lady, who they learned was named dorothy with a sheepish smile and a promise to come back.

they ended up outside on a weathered little bench under half-lit string lights, knees touching while there cones slowly drip down the grass. paige smirked mischiviously, leaning close to steal a bite from azzi’s cone who huffed offendedly. paige only giggled, holding her own cone up as an offering. “you want mango?”

azzi leaned in to take a bite, only barely missing paige’s lips. paige’s eyes widened, the blue of her eyes under the low light making it irresistible and god, really impossible for azzi not to lean in and steal a sweet kiss.

so she did, leaning in to capture the blonde’s lips in a quick peck.

“okay, you win,” azzi murmured when she pulled back, leaving a flustered paige smiling dizzily, her voice quiet and full of affection. “this place is weirdly perfect.”

“told you,” paige said again, quieter this time, stretching her hand to properly link their fingers once more.

as the sun dipped low, they walked together through the overgrown garden azzi had brought paige to the first time she visited.

this time, paige led the way.

everything smelled like honeysuckle and wet leaves, and multiple flowers were missing their usual colour from being out of season. but somehow, it’s never looked prettier.

“you remembered this,” azzi said softly.

“how could i forget?” paige replied. “you brought me here when i didn’t know all i needed all this time was right beside me.”

azzi looked over, heart caught in her throat, torn between wanting to kiss her silly again and crying. “you really don’t play fair, do you?”

“i really don’t,” paige whispered. “especially when i like someone this much.”

and what can azzi do but fall deeper?

they walked in slow circles around the flower beds until the garden gave way to a little park behind it, where a crooked old basketball hoop still stood in the corner. azzi couldn’t help a laugh of disbelief and possibly fondness escape.

paige grinned and broke away, dribbling the faded ball sitting beneath the bench. “one-on-one. you and me right now”

“really now?”

“first to ten,” she said, tossing the ball to azzi. “winner gets whatever they want.”

azzi’s eyes brightened as she shuffled closer, catching the ball with ease as she felt the familiar fire of competitiveness, “game on, bueckers.”

what followed could barely be called a real game.

the game started normal, azzi making an easy three, paige making tough layups look easy. but somewhere around point six, it unraveled into a flirty chaos. laughing, bumping shoulders, teasing defense, both of them missing more shots than they made. azzi scored with a quick fake and a step-back jumper, paige responded with a ridiculous spin move that somehow worked.

“8-6,” paige said after she made her shot, bouncing the ball slowly. “i make a shot and it’s over.”

azzi crouches down in position, smirking as she got her lock down defence ready. “bring it.”

but paige didn’t move.

she stood there, holding the ball, eyes locked on azzi like the game had already ended.

looking at her like she had already won.

“you know what?” she said, voice low. “i don’t need the point. i already know what i want.”

azzi blinked, “huh?”

paige gulped, voice suddenly wobbly as she feels her heart speed up, “these past few days, i know we’ve already said a lot and well, kissed a lot.” she teased lightly earning a light laugh from azzi, “but i don’t wanna just leave it hanging there. i want you to really know.”

she dropped the ball gently and stepped closer.

“i want you,” she continued, each word a little braver. “in every way. i want ice cream dates and basketball hangouts and stupid inside jokes and everything in between. i want the you after a loss and the you after a win. i want you by my side in university playing ball and you by my side for whatever comes after.”

her fingers reached out, brushing gently along azzi’s jaw, so soft it melted what was left of azzi’s poor heart.

“i’m already yours,” paige admitted, “but i’d really love to be your girlfriend, officially. if you’ll have me, of course.”

azzi stood frozen in place, eyes widening as the blonde’s words sunk in. she could feel herself lose whatever train of thought she had, not because she didn’t know what to say, but because god, she hadn’t been expecting to fall this hard. she blinked through the sting in her eyes, stepping forward until their foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the space between them.

“of course. yes, are you kidding?” she whispered, voice thick with emotions and something that felt scarily like love, “of course i want that. i want you.”

paige let out a breathless, crooked laugh as azzi wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close, their bodies fitting like muscle memory.

“you’re crying,” paige teased, brushing her thumb gently under azzi’s eye.

“shut up,” azzi whispered, sniffling a little. “you made me.”

paige leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple, then her cheek. “i’ll make it up to you.”

“how?”

she leaned down slowly, breath getting caught at just how gentle and loving azzi looked up at her. her brown eyes were wide-eyed and flushed, lips parted slightly like she already knew what was coming but still couldn’t believe it. like no amount of kissing could ever get her used to the closeness and softness of each moment.

then their lips met.

soft and ever so gentle at first, like they were both holding their breath and testing the waters, but then paige tilted her head and pressed in more fully and oh, azzi thought she couldn’t hold back any longer.

azzi tasted like vanilla and something so achingly familiar it made paige’s knees weak. and god, the way azzi’s hand gripped the back of her neck like she was scared she’d disappear, like she was something out of her greatest dreams, made her heart genuinely skip a beat.

paige deepened the kiss gently, coaxing rather than taking, like she had all the time in the world to learn the shape of azzi’s mouth and the way her breath hitched just slightly when she brought her free hand to cup her cheek. her other hand slid up to rest just beneath azzi’s jaw, her thumb brushing featherlight against her cheekbone, steadying both of them.

azzi responded in kind, pressing closer, their bodies molding together in that perfect way that felt like a secret being whispered. it was soft, yes, but it was also charged with every unspoken feeling they’d been too scared to name out loud: longing, hope, and something that felt dangerously close to love.

the kiss lingered, unhurried, like they were writing it into memory.

and when they finally broke apart, noses brushing, foreheads resting against each other’s, their lips still tingled with the ghost of their kiss. they were breathing a little too hard, faces a little too warm, but neither of them moved away.

behind them, the basketball rolled lazily across the cracked pavement, forgotten. above them, the last light of day faded into indigo. and between them, a quiet certainty settled.

they didn’t need to say it aloud.

they were finally here, together.

at last.

—

[joequiinn]

To Solve a Crooked Rhyme | r x medium!reader | prol.

Story Summary | To commune with the dead was second nature, as familiar to you as the back of your hand. Seances and ouija boards, psychometry and automatic writing - the tools of your trade. Little did you know what kind of creature would come to prey upon you in pursuit of your gifts, though...

Story Warnings, Themes | fem reader, mature content, horror themes, 1890s northeastern setting, spiritualism (possible historical inaccuracies), various vampire lores used, canon typical blood/gore etc, cat-and-mouse vibes, slight use of 3rd person narrative

Author's Note | I've always found the spiritualism movement utterly fascinating, and what better place to explore it than in a vampire fic? As stated above, there may be historical inaccuracies (please view note on series masterlist linked below) and I'm playing with different types of vampire lore in mind, but I hope it all comes together well! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for future installments, let me know - 18+ only, no ageless blogs!

WC | 2.3K

[series masterlist]

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

He heard a voice reach out across the expanse, something forever far away and yet a tickle upon his neck. It was a whisper not intended for his ears, ghost-like in its dreaminess, bringing him to an abrupt pause when it managed to penetrate his mind as if it belonged there. Both so like and unlike the collective of voices he’d grown accustomed to hearing in this shared consciousness that came with vampirism; he’d upped his mental defenses enough that few could break through them, allowing him some peace within his eternity.

But this. This was something else.

In all his centuries as a creature of the night, so very few have been able to reach within him like this. But she somehow struck through his energy in a way that made his blood stir, that sent a shiver rolling up his spine. What a strange and fleeting sensation for someone of the undead. What an enticing thing to want to feel again.

The woman’s voice was even in tone, slow and methodical, a hint dramatic, perhaps for performance sake. And it drew him like a month to flame. He followed after the voice, chasing an invisible thread with a strange, innate understanding that something in his blood seemed to recognize her call.

It ebbed and flowed in his grasp as if he couldn't quite make the voice tangible, far enough away that only a few words were made clear:

“… are seeking… speak to you… your passing…”

He already understood what this woman was - he could feel it from the very moment that her voice managed to pierce inside his head like a swift arrow breezing past his cheek. A clairvoyant, a mentalist, a psychic - there were a dozen names for her line of work, and likely a dozen more that he wasn’t familiar with. And amidst an array of frauds and scam artists making a quick buck off others’ grief, this voice was the real thing, one that felt unlike any seers he’d encountered before.

He could feel it upon her voice as it danced around him, the weight of her words heavy, the scope of her ability wide. There were stories of those that could wake the dead, that could reach into realms beyond with only their voice. Yes, this was the nature of psychics, whose trade was built upon connecting with spirits. But he knew this one was different - she was the voice that could make time stand still, that could fold it like paper into a new, intricate shape. So uniquely gifted - so very easy for something insidious to target.

Oh, the things he could do with a voice like that…

“Where Lagan stream sings lullaby There blows a lily fair”

The song was a distant, cavernous echo, so far off that you could barely hear its tune, as if perhaps you simply imagined it. But, of course, you knew better than that - your senses were always sharp, for better or for worse - and thus it gave you pause. For although spirits were prone to strange and brief disruptions such as this, they usually weren’t quite so melodic and lilting.

You had hoped to read at least a chapter or two of your book before bed, but evidently that wasn’t going to happen. You set aside the novel that was resting in your lap, brow furrowing with curiosity, though nothing else met your ears aside from the buzzing of cicadas out your window. Ghosts were in the habit of making themselves known to you, yet as you looked about the room there was nothing unusual or of note to be found - no shadowy movements, no trinkets falling off shelves, no ghastly reflected faces in your mirror.

Curious about the faint interruption, you closed your eyes and sat up a little straighter, concentrating in the hopes that the unfamiliar tune would find its way back to you. Perhaps the spirit hadn’t meant to draw your attention at all, but on the off-chance that they were, you simply had to listen again. Though briefly you considered that the dreamy voice may be floating in through the thin walls from one of your neighbors’ tenement, you already knew that wasn’t true - you could feel that it was coming from somewhere just beyond the physical world.

Your whole life you’d seen and heard things that others simply couldn’t - and perhaps shouldn’t. The calls of wayward spirits were as familiar to you as your own voice, as commonplace as the sight of your reflection. It was an inherited trait, this connection with the supernatural, passed down by your grandmother who was renowned and trusted for her ability to commune with ghosts back in the heyday of the spiritualism movement. You could barely remember the woman, for you were so small when she left this world. Following her death, she willfully passed onto whatever was next, leaving you without answers to all the questions that sprouted up through the years. Thus, you had to hone those skills all on your own.

“The twilight gleam is in her eye The night is on her hair”

Ah, there he was, that silky voice coaxing you; how strange for him to sound both retreating from and approaching you at the same time. More often than not, you were able to pin down a spirit’s location with relative ease; it had been a long while since you had to chase after anyone, as generally ghosts weren’t that complicated.

You’d gotten in the habit of visualizing the spiritual energies surrounding you like tree roots - winding and weaving, seemingly endless, but not impossible to navigate with enough attention to detail. If you found the right root, you could follow it all the way to the base, to the spirit lingering at the end. Unable to identify where exactly he was, you took a deep breath, focusing and wondering again if this ghost knew he was heard and if he wanted you to find him.

Tonight had already been quite busy for you, your energy worn thin from the meeting you’d had with a woman named Mrs. Clemens regarding her husband’s death. You’d heard about her loss even before she reached out to you, seeing his name written about in the paper - apparently, his corpse looked as if it had been mauled by a wild animal, though the details beyond that were withheld from the public.

Evidently, Mrs. Clemens was dissatisfied with the police investigation; much of your time spent in your first meeting was filled by her venting her frustrations and you simply listening to the best of your ability. You’d be the first to admit that you were better with the dead than with the living. She turned to you in the hopes that you may offer her some clarity on her husband’s mysterious death, on what truly happened and what the police may have not made her privy to.

And, whether for better or for worse, you had given her some details, though they were scant at best. You managed to connect with Mr. Clemens rather quickly, giving you the suspicion that he was just as unimpressed with the police as his widow, though with his ghost still so fresh he struggled to remember that he was, in fact, dead on occasion.

Through automatic writing, Mr. Clemens painted the best picture of the attack that he could with the limitations of his memory - it was a man, rather than an animal as police suggested to the widow and the public. Unlike anything Mr. Clemens had encountered before, it left him with uncertainty, and thus the details of the event weren’t wholly clear; Clemens seemed convinced, though, that the stranger had attempted to cannibalize him while he was still alive.

Following that gruesome detail, Mrs. Clemens asked that you stop working for the night, as just the thought of it alone shook her deeply. These new details brought her little comfort, as now she was insistent the information be brought to the police so they could look for this mongrel, as she called him. In your personal experience, trying to work with the police resolved nothing. Although around these parts spiritualism was taken seriously in many circles, there was far too much trepidation from the law for your methods to be trusted in an investigation.

But Mrs. Clemens was willing to pay you well for your time and work, so you suggested she sort through her husband’s belongings, specifically anything that may have been on his person when he died. Perhaps psychometry, being able to hold and feel the energies of these objects, may prove itself more useful to your research. The two of you were set to reconvene later in the week, as you needed time to build your energy back up - mediumship was hard work, after all.

“And like a love-sick lennan-shee She has my heart in thrall”

Of course, chasing the song of a phantom didn’t help restore your energy any. Usually, you could find means of tuning out all the noise, for ghosts were plentiful, leaving strong energies everywhere they went like breadcrumbs for psychics to find. Ignoring the breadcrumbs had become easier through the years, shutting off that part of your mind with ease when you needed a moment of peace. This energy, however, was different, and you simply couldn’t disregard it the way you normally would.

So, like any good and curious medium should, you rose from your bed to sit at your desk, lighting the half-melted black candle and closing your eyes once more. Though you couldn’t explain why, you got the sense that this spirit wanted you to give him chase, as strange as that seemed. You focused, trying to find that metaphorical root, but somehow it was to no avail, there was no evident path for you to follow. Pesky little thing, this spirit.

“Why are you hiding?” You asked in a steady tone, continuing to search for the energy that alluded you. For a brief moment, you thought perhaps he had left because you couldn’t feel any nearby presence outside of the usual. But then you heard his haunting melody again, and somehow you got the sense that it was intended to mock you.

“No life I owe nor liberty For love is lord of all”

There was something undeniably different here that you simply couldn’t place. You hadn’t the confidence to say whether the difference was good, bad, or otherwise, but you were certain this spirit had a side to it unlike your standard fare of ghosts wanting to say goodbye to loved ones or getting lost on their journey beyond. There was a near lack of energy that made him hard to pin down - was he malignant or hostile, was he a trickster or simply misunderstood?

Determinedly, you rolled your shoulders back, seeking the energy again as you remarked, “I’m sure you’re quite amusing at parties.”

To your utter surprise, you felt his chuckle as if it were within your own chest, causing you to shiver; the spirit was closer than you thought, and evidently quite good at hiding. Seeing as your quip seemed to amuse him, you steadied yourself and tried again, hoping that you could get some further interaction, or at the very least a reaction.

“Would you mind telling me your name?”

No response. Nothing for an achingly long stretch, until finally a teasing voice tickled your ears, “Don't think I'll be doing that, love…”

You were taken aback by the spirit’s taunting, words darker and huskier than his singing, reverberating both within you and without you. The remark told you a lot about him, though. He had been dead for a while, for the newly deceased were often too disoriented by their circumstances to make jokes. And if he’d been around a while, then he ran the risk of being dangerous, which normally you would have sensed much sooner; again, there was something very strange about this one that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“That didn’t answer my question.” You urged with more command in your tone, but received nothing in response - no comebacks or laughter or singing to be had.

You waited, considering if this almost-conversation would continue, since his presence couldn’t be detected as other spirits typically would be. Several minutes ticked by in silence, candle flame slowly eating away at the wax, your posture taut in anticipation, the moon idling through the night sky; but you already knew that was the end of that. Whoever he was was gone for now.

With a final sigh of acceptance, you stood, blowing out the candle at your desk and deciding it was time to call it a night - you couldn’t do any more work with your energy as low as it was. The lamp burning upon your nightstand lit the way across the small expanse of your room, guiding you back to the warmth and comfort of your bed.

As you passed by the window, you glanced out at the street growing emptier as the night grew darker. Men still trekked along, either heading home or to the nearest bar; the only businesses still open at this time of night were bars and inns. In the building across from yours, nearly all lights were out, save for a faint flickering here and there between curtains.

Content with the quiet of the night, you began to walk from the window, but something made you stop, some kind of itch at the base of your skull that drew your attention back out. For a long, tense moment, you stared out at your familiar neighborhood, eyes scanning carefully. You weren’t prone to being startled or spooked, so you wouldn’t call the sensation you felt alarm - no, rather it was caution.

But nothing about your street appeared out of place. Perhaps you were just a little tense given the day you had, and the strange interaction with a singing spirit. So, you turned your back to the window and made your way to bed, ignoring that prickling foreboding that crawled up your spine, reminding yourself you had nothing to fear.

After all, you hadn’t seen the glow of something nefarious out there in the dark - no, you surely hadn’t, for it must have purely been the shine of light off a reflective surface…

. .

A.N. | Not quite sure yet when I'll have chapter one out, but I wanted to post this and give everyone a little taste of what's to come. I'm working on another writing project alongside this, so I apologize if it's a bit of a wait for the next update!

Taglist | @avidreader73 @cowboy-courage @decayingfool @vesnaragast