#anyway i was sick for the better part of the week so if it looks like it doesn’t make sense… maybe?

[je-lurk]

I'd love it if you elaborated on how Agatha's hair reflects her state of mind! I'm obsessed with that kind of character analysis and I have a vague idea how I think they're connected but I'd love to hear your thoughts! If you want to of course. : )

Hi! It took me a hot second, but since I hadn’t finished yesterday I thought I could add ep 4. Here are my ideas, hairstyle by hairstyle.

The beginning of the reflection comes from the idea that loose hair in ancient Rome or Greece represented madness (can’t actually find sources on this so take the historical accuracy with a grain of salt) and, in a lesser extent, grief.

In episode 1, we see mostly Detective Agnes. Detective Agnes wears her hair in a low, untidy ponytail. This is the easiest way to gather one’s hair to free up the face. It’s not even done properly. Obviously this echoes how this Agnes is neglecting herself, mostly through self-destructive behaviors. Still, her hair is collected, as is her mind. The situation makes sense for her.

Until it doesn’t, and Agatha frees herself of the past iterations of Agnes. It might be worth to note that all of these have at least stylized hairstyles. This is, to me, Wanda’s influence: the Agneses (as well as every other character in Westview) were not allowed to lose their mind. Detective Agnes, bearing alone the full brunt of Wanda’s power, even less.

Once rid of all her layers, Agatha is naked (rebirth) and her hair is loose (madness).

"Madness" in this case as in disorientation. Agatha’s brain is barely catching up with what’s happened and needs answers. She’s constantly off balance, mostly emotionally.

She spends most of episode 2 with loose braids, done on the fly but still slightly researched. She’s scrambling for control: control of her appearance, control of others, control of her mind.

With Lilia she actively changes her appearance, gathering her braids in a somewhat tight bun, secured with a stick. She attempts to look both different and more pulled together than she really is. This, as we all know, did not work.

Then she ends the episode with a classic updo, with hair piled on her head and framed with two strands, obviously elaborate. The very little time she had she used to prepare herself, both physically and mentally. Every last hair is secured (except for the two strands, we’re aiming for class, mystique and confidence, not stuck-up-bitch-efficiency) and every thought is in place. The plan is made. And the strands can act as a curtain. She’s never really without those hair that can get in her face (except when under Wanda’s control because she doesn’t have the wherewithal to do anything, much less hide and scheme).

Episode 3 sees Agatha with the same updo, although it changes once they enter the first trial.

Her hair is — I struggle to find another word for it — schooled. It is still "loose", but the kind of loose that is held together by cans of hairspray, with studied waves. Girl is holding together with dreams and a prayer. She looks like she is holding together at least. There is still this idea of vulnerability. She’ll be more understanding, more in touch with the others. Less good at deception. More vulnerable, more protective, towards her son (whose loss is, if not still raw, rawer because of Wanda), towards Teen. The front bang, if we can call it like that, is always between the ear and the eye. Again, a curtain. Curtain that she completely pushes back during her hallucination.

It is interesting to me how the hallucination only happens as she is plucking a hair. With all the hairspray it’s staying mid-air. This, with the hair carelessly pushed back, is the more disheveled we’ve seen her in this episode (yet). This is also the most open, emotional and raw we see her in the episode. Even when Teen said he would drink the wine in her stead was she more reserved.

She ends the episode in the updo of the beginning, though 3/4 ruined by the water (lot of stress in the preceding sequence, plan barely holding on). And then Sharon dies. There is something to the ruination of the most elegant and researched updo she did by herself. It recalls again the themes of mental vulnerability, loss of footing, loss of confidence, etc.

There is a little time between the end of episode 3 and the beginning of episode 4. They all dried, and Agatha took her hair down (it’s less ridiculous like this. It’s a conscious choice of appearance, too, she could have easily put her hair up with literally anything). I think it’s because she has really registered Sharon’s death (I’m calling bluff, though. First, because I love her, and second, because she looks too dead for having been dead this short). Even if she doesn’t want to show it, she cares about her and about her death. If she didn’t, she would have no issue assuming the responsibility. It’s not the first time she’s killed. But she shifts the blame elsewhere.

Then there’s Rio, and Agatha is feeling too much at the same time.

Second trial, loose hair, secured with a headband. I love how, as soon as Rio is involved, Agatha always has a loose component to her hairstyle (not counting episode 1 because she was Agnes). In this trial, Agatha is (mostly, we don’t forget Exposition Boy in this house, but hey, that’s what the loose part is for) pulled together: she plots, takes swings, and leadership, and support Alice. They finish the trial so much quicker and with minimal loss.

They get out, where Agatha immediately gets back her loose hair "style" and her emotions. She doesn’t even care to look too attached to Teen. She cries. I believe we’ve only seen her cry once before, in the hallucination. She gets careless, opens herself too much, begins to believe again (in Teen, in Rio) and only gets back a punch in the jaw ("What really happened to your son?") and in the plexus ("That boy isn’t yours". Come on Rio, she knows she’s entertaining delusions, leave her alone).

Tl;dr: It all boils down to hairstyle = control

Loose hair could represent a loss of control over her mental and emotional states, over others, and over her environment.

Styled hair/hair done could show her confidence (and/or the confidence she wants people to think she has), mental acuity, and general capability to think, plan, and plot (whether for her own benefit or that of her coven). In other words, her ability to control the situation.

[vaguely-functional-directions]

.

[toji-bunny-girl]

You don't go to the library to study. You go there to have your cunt stuffed, by nonother than librarian!Gojo.

He works there 5 days a week, and you made sure to be there by your corner every single one of those days, carefully staring at him through the side of your book. Of course, he's well aware of your interest in him. You're so preoccupied with him you don't even realise you're holding the book upside down.

He doesn't realise it yet but he's slow to share the same amount of attraction to you as you are to him. He'd note the way your eyebrows would adorably scrunch together when you're actually doing your assignment for once, and you'd collapse face down onto the table when the frustration and exhaustion caught up to you. Or how your favourite colour seemed to be pink, your stationery and laptop covered in different shades of the colour.

He's used to your presence by now, having spent the last couple of weeks observing you just as you stalked him through the library. And truth to be told, he actually enjoyed it—he's got a cutie following behind him, too shy to strike up a conversation with him and too dumb to hide your little crush any better.

You quickly became the only part of his job he would look forward to, questioning what kind of crap you were going to pull up to just right before his shift. Until you're gone all of a sudden.

Maybe you were just late, he thought on the first day of your absence. Or maybe you're sick by the second day. Perhaps you're just busy with school…or maybe some another guy—

Why does he even care in the first place? You're just some stalker with a pretty face, nothing special out of the sea of girls in his DMs. Gojo doesn't like how he's fretting over a girl who he hasn't talked to before, your presence doesn't control how his day goes anyway.

Until it does.

It exasperated him by how he allowed himself to be subjugated under you. He can't focus on his seminars when the voices in his head wonder about you louder than the lecturer's, he can't flirt with the chicks on campus without thinking about that fangirl from the library and he can't sleep if his head is filled with the images of you with another guy.

What kind of spell have you managed to put him under?

He was completely and utterly chafed by the next week when he entered his shift, a frown seemingly marked permanently upon his face as he went through his chores, putting away the books back to their categorised shelves. That was until he heard a familiar pit-pats of your shoes, and saw your figure stupidly hiding behind a bookshelf from the side of his eye.

His playful spirit returned when he noted your presence, and he wandered further into the library, where no one could see the two of you. As expected, you shuffled along his steps before slipping yourself into the aisle behind him, pretending to flick through the choices of books on display.

Those were Chinese novels, and you majored in Biochemistry. Idiot, he thought with an internal chuckle.

Unbeknownst to you, he had strolled to your back, waiting for you to turn to face him. Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you found him standing right in front of you, and you froze then and there like a deer in the headlights.

"I know you've been stalking me around here," he had a shit-eating smirk on his face as his arms rested by your sides to trap you in between them. "Freak," he whispered next to your ears, sending a tingle through your nerves.

"I-I, ah—" you stammered, trying to collect your words to sound coherent. Your face was flushed bloody red with embarrassment, and Gojo was sure he'd burn himself if he were to touch you.

"But that's okay…" he drawled. "I won't spread the word if you listen to me."

Your eyes were wide, gaping at him through your lashes as you nodded.

Fuck, were you adorable.

"You like me, huh?"

"Uhm…I, uh…"

"Hm?"

"Y-Yes," you blurted with your eyes squeezed shut, too embarrassed. Your breath was hot, and they scorched his cheeks red upon your words.

"What do you like about me?" oh god does he love teasing the hell out of you.

"Your f-face…"

"My face?" he feigned dumb. Of course, he's well aware that girls would only come chasing after his looks. But he absolutely enjoyed torturing you with his stupid questions. "Which part of my face?"

"Huh…?" your eyes were spinning, your hands raising to push his frame a little away for your comfort.

"My eyes? My nose?" his bigger hand captured the two of yours into his grasp, his fingers were icy cold against yours, and his face neared yours once again, merely a breath away. "Or my lips?"

You didn't dare to answer, the sound of your throat gulping filled the air as a few stray hairs of his tickled your cheek. His eyes peered towards yours, catching your gaze that fell upon his lips.

"There, huh?" Gojo's smirk widened, his grip on your wrists tightening a fraction. "Wanna try them?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words left your trembling lips, except for a silent gasp. He took the shift of your feature as a sign for him to advance onto you, his lips gently sucked on your soft flesh, the tiniest amount of your saliva flowed onto his tongue and they tasted better than the finest honey.

A string of your mixed essence connected his lips to yours, red and swollen as a sign of his kiss, when he pulled away. Your knees weakened in enfeeblement, and Gojo caught you before you could fall to the ground.

"You're done?" his arms are strong, and you could feel his muscles flex under your hand when you gathered your strength to stabilise on your feet. "I'm not."

His touches slowly trailed down from your arm to your hips, and you subconsciously rubbed your thighs together when his gaze fell onto them. In his eyes you could see a growing hunger that lurked beneath his bright blue eyes, it was the darker gradient that hung low in his orbs.

"Do you touch yourself here when you think of me?" your teeth sank into the flesh of your bottom lip and your eyes peered down to between your skirt, where his hand was as you vaguely nodded; hoping that he didn't see the faint motion of your head.

How wouldn't he know when all his attention is on you? His eyes scanned the faint shifts in your features when he pressed against your heat, making sure there wasn't any hint of dissent to his touch—and mostly searching for the muted salacity behind your pretty eyes.

"Sometimes…" your voice was meek, but it was audible enough for his ear to twitch at your words. His chest almost burst to your confession, and the images of your features twisting into lewd faces flashed past his mind, calling out his name with that sweet voice of yours.

A soft moan left your lips when his fingers slipped past your pink panty, drawing slow circles upon your clit. Your hips bucked as he teased, his other hand coming down to palm your ass.

"What about I make you feel good?" he gently asked, and you drunkenly nodded to your pleasure. His thumb grew charge of teasing your hardening bud, his two long fingers dipped into your already-slick cavern, reaching the sensitive parts of your inside.

Your lips tensed into a line to quell the moans that drew from your itching tummy, and your hands rested on Gojo's chest, gripping onto his shirt for support.

His fingers grew greedy for more of your whimpers, stroking past your walls, searching for the velvety spot in you. You threw your head back when he found the part he was looking for, pumping out and into the spongey surface, stimulating your nerves to their limit.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your eyelids flew shut when he expedited the speed of his slick-coated digits, his arm growing slightly sore as he carried you to the height of your orgasm. His cock twitched when you drew out a cry of pleasure, your breath stuck in your throat as your mind went blank from your high.

Your grip on his clothes loosened, and you panted as you rest your weight against the shelves, Gojo's damp fingers evident of the pleasure he delivered to you. He watched as you collected your remaining breath, your cheeks flushed pink in arousal and your eyesight slowly blinked clear.

A bolt flash of surprise ran through his eyes when you carefully pulled his pants down, gripping his hardened girth with your warm hands. Gojo stopped you with a grab of your wrist, your whole body tensing in creeping embarrassment—he doesn't like it when you touch him?

Your thoughts flew out the window when he spat onto your palm, before guiding your hand back to his throbbing cock. Your mind grew blank as you began fisting his length, his breath hitching when you rubbed over his pinkish-red tip.

Your touches were filled with careful inexperience, and Gojo found it absolutely fucking adorable. The soft squelching of his saliva in your hand as you pumped his cock filled the air, and he inched closer to kiss you once again.

His groans flowed into your mouth as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, drinking in the taste of you as you pleased him. You seemed to be a quick learner on your own, pumping his pulsing cock faster, gripping onto him tighter, and rubbing his sensitive tip of all.

His hips stuttered along with the movements of your hand, a sign of his close release and you were clearly relentless to please him. Your pace doesn't falter, but fastened instead and his moans muffled through your sloppy kiss, your mixed drool dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

"Fuck," his voice cracked as his cock twitched, before ejaculating his hot semen onto your clothes, slowly dripping down to your thigh. Your breaths mingled in the sultry air, the smell of your essences filled your nostrils as the both of you cooled from the aftermath of your highs.

You recognised the dirty smirk on his face when you flicked your gaze up at him, and you sank into the bookshelf in preparation for what he had conjured up in his mind.

"The library closes in 30 minutes, we'll get the whole place to ourselves by then."

[jamminvroomvroom]

as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 2

LN x fem!leclerc reader

PART 2 OF 2 -> read part 1 linked HERE!

here we go again guys, you know the drill! follows directly on from part 1 because of the silly word count :(

warnings: warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!)

part 2: 6.1k words

8. i have you.

“you never told me why.” lando blurts.

the sun is setting outside, the pair of you sprawled out over your hotel bed. he’d been in your room for a few hours, tangled with you between the linen sheets. it’s thursday in brazil, and he’d made a beeline for your hotel room after media day wrapped up. he couldn’t explain the anxiety he felt, pooling thickly in the pit of his belly, but it subsided as soon as he saw your pretty face, peeking through the crack in your door.

he’d stayed after, a habit that had been developing of late, when you were both at home in monaco, but it was unusual on a race weekend. you’d pulled out your laptop to do some work, and chucked the remote at him, telling him to put something on netflix. he’d just smiled and obliged, more than willing to stay with you.

“told you ‘why’ what?” you look up from your laptop, confused.

“why you haven’t really been with anyone else.” his voice is small, scared he’s overstepping but he figures he’s seen you naked one too many times to get shy.

“oh.”

you stare off into the dim light of the room for a second, collecting your thoughts, reliving it all.

“you don’t need to tell me, sorry if that was weird-“

“no, uh, it’s fine. it’s a bit tragic really, embarrassing.” you start. “there was a guy, a couple of years ago. he was on my course at uni. he was perfect, flowers on my doorstep once a week, romantic dinners overlooking the harbour.” you reminisce, smiling sadly. “we went on a few dates and he was selling it all perfectly, it was like he was telling me everything i wanted to hear. i trusted him, so i slept with him. it was my first time.” your breath hitches. “next thing i know, he’s telling everyone that will listen that he’s best friends with charles leclerc and that he’s fucked an f1 drivers sister. and, you know, monaco is small. charles and arthur beat the shit out of him.” you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, which are now glossed over with fresh, stinging tears.

lando slides closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm over your shoulder.

“it’s always been hard, you know? people trying to get close to me so that they could get close to charles. all my life, it’s been the same shit. i just wanted someone to want me for me, just once.”

you’re crying now, and lando wants to die for causing it.

“hey, ‘m so sorry, honey. i shouldn’t have asked.” he shushes you, pulling you close. he kisses the top of your head gently, and you snuggle further into him.

“no, it’s okay. wanted you to know. that’s why i like this. us.” it comes out just above a whisper.

“that’s why i like us too.” he murmurs. you look up at him, scanning his face.

“what’s your story? charles said something to me once about a bad breakup.” you ask softly. lando sighs.

“she wanted the lifestyle more than she wanted me.” he shrugs.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. i’m better off.” i have you, he wants to add.

“i like the fact that we can’t hurt eachother that way.” you breathe, voicing the sentiment that you’ve both shared since the very first time you were together.

“i like it too, honey. more than you know.”

-

9. ache.

a weight lifts off of him in vegas.

brazil had been a shit show, one that he wanted to forget. one that left him awake for two days avoiding your calls, until you snapped him out of it by showing up at his place anyway, and giving him the best head of his fucking life. he’d slept like a damn baby after that.

he had a week off, after, which he spent in your bed more than his own, and then he was promptly off to nevada, awaiting your arrival a few days later and fixated on clawing something back after brazil, even if it was just pride.

well, that fixation didn’t amount to much, but at least you were there, somewhere, watching and waiting. charles is a wreck, though, storming away from parc ferme, which means you’ll be with him, instead of with lando. he feels selfish at the way it stings.

he’s exhausted when he leaves the track, dead on his feet in the elevator up to his room. he can’t bring himself to join max or george and celebrate. he’ll make it up to both of them another time. his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, recognising your contact. he doesn’t even fight the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

packed something special for you. you gonna come find out what?

he’s in love with you. has been for a while.

the attention you pay to him for himl, the way you tease him and laugh with him and let him lose himself in unravelling you. your quick wit, mesmerising eyes, the way you switch languages when he scrambles your brain and you can’t think hard enough to keep speaking english. he’s a goner, and he knows it.

he doesn’t bother replying, just makes a beeline for your room. he’s spent enough time in it already this weekend to make it there without much thought. you’d even left him a keycard, which he retrieves with nimble fingers from his wallet, letting himself into your suite.

he calls your name, rounding the corner and he could die right there, just at the sight of you.

you’re lamplit, knelt on the middle of your bed, wrapped in nothing but intricate, baby pink lace.

“my god.” he pants, jaw dropped. you’re ethereal, gorgeous, a delicate gift wrapped up just for him to open.

“do you like it?” your eyes are wide, daunted.

“what the fuck did i do to deserve you?” he stalks to the end of the bed, shrugging off his jacket, his hoodie, until he’s left in a white vest and team joggers. he kneels down at the foot of the bed, ready to crawl over you. “i love it.”

you flush, grinning sweetly as he crawls over you, pushing you back into the mattress.

“you did this all for me?” lando asks, stroking over a lacy bra strap.

“thought you deserved it.” you purr, but your facade slips for just a minute. “is this okay? never done this before.” you glance up at him with round, doe eyes that make him swallow hard, melting further into you.

“‘s perfect.” he promises. “you’re so perfect.”

lando kisses you softly, his warm skin pressing into yours. you moan quietly into his mouth, holding him close. he thumbs over the lace adorning your bust, stroking it. you squirm every time he brushes your skin.

“wanna be on top. wanna try it.” you pant into his mouth, watching closely as he groans, eyes fluttering as he imagines the sight.

“only if you keep this on.” he bargains, flipping the pair of you over.

you sit up on his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest as his find your hips. he steadies you, playing with the band of your panties, tracing over the pattern.

“can’t believe you did this all for me.” lando coos, taking the opportunity to take it all in, you, flustered and breathtaking, straddling him. dressed up all for him, all his.

“you deserve it.”

“do you think you’re ready for me? lemme see.” his hand skates between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against the crotch of your underwear. he applies pressure against the wet patch that he feels, licking his lips. “were you thinking about me when you were getting all dressed up? thinking about how i’d touch you?”

“yeah,” you nod frantically, grinding down on his fingers. “wanted you all day but i wanted to be good for you.” you pout. you’re gonna kill him, he thinks.

“always good for me.” he applies more pressure, toying with your clit through the lace, the sensation making you quiver, bucking your hips.

“just want you inside of me, lando. i’m ready.” you plead, palming over his sweats. your hand travels further, finding his between your legs. you tug your underwear to the side, and he feels just how wet you are for him.

“you sure, baby?”

there he goes again. baby. your tummy twists.

“yeah, lan, i want it to hurt a little.” you sound so sweet for him and it shreds the rest of his self restraint.

lando sits up just enough to rip off his vest, taps your thigh so that you lift up for a second, long enough for him to shrug off his sweats. when he’s bare, he paws at your hips, helping you to adjust. your fingers wrap around his length and he jolts, mouth falling open as you swipe the head of him through your slit. you sink down, taking just the tip, but it feels like the first time all over again, the angle creating delicious pressure that burns through your pelvis. your eyes squeeze shut and he swirls his fingers over your sides.

“take it easy for me, love.” lando urges, looking up at you with concern.

“i like it. promise.” you choke out, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, the burn.

you continue to slide down on him, sinking further and further until you’re flush against his pelvis. you roll your hips experimentally, your clit brushing against the thatch of hair at his base and you squirm, sensitive.

“want me to help?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“wanna do this for you.” you pant, rocking your hips against his.

the angle is brutal, so intoxicatingly good, and you can already feel yourself leaking all over him. you build up a rhythm, slow and steady, watching the ripple of his abs everytime you sink back down on him, the way his curls fan over his forehead, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips at your waist tighter and tighter.

“you look so pretty, baby, taking me like this.” lando sighs, helping you pick up the pace. you cry out, leaning backwards, fingers gripping his firm thighs.

“it’s so good, you feel so good.” you whine, arching your back.

he’s entranced by the way your breasts bounce, fighting against the skimpy bra and he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily. one hand leaves your waist and travels to the cups of your bra, tugging so harshly that you hear the threads break. he frees your tits, watching in delight as they fall out of the lace confines.

“you’re so sexy, honey, look so beautiful. you’re all mine, aren’t you? this is all for me, right?” lando’s eyes roll back in his head when he feels the way you clamp down around him at his words. he’s gonna fill you up, he thinks, mark you as his from the inside out.

“yeah, lan, all yours.” you slur, fighting the urge to cum. “‘m all yours.”

he can see that you’re tiring, the ache setting in, so he pulls you forward, until you’re chest to chest, wrapped up his his thick arms.

“i’ve got you, baby.” he swears, holding you close as he rolls his hips, fucking up into you.

it’s all too much like this, the constant pressure on your clit, the head of his cock tapping against your cervix, the thrumming of his heart, the cold sweat of his chest peaking your nipples. you let out a strangled cry of his name, and you see white, your nerve endings overstimulated and fried. all you can hear is his voice, pulling your through it and out the other side.

“did so good for me, baby, such a good girl. took it all so well, love.”

you’re limp on top of him, a dead weight curled around him like a life force. there’s nothing that could make him move you, and wouldn’t let you go unless you asked. you lay there in silence, your mixed release leaking out of you. your heart rate steadies, about as much as it can with him around, and you feel yourself blinking away sleep, exhausted. lando notices, of course he does.

“let’s clean up.” he suggests, sitting up carefully with you on his lap.

“carry me?” you request sleepily, a lazy smile painting your face.

“as you wish.” he jokes, bowing his head.

your legs wrap around his waist as he shuffles off of the bed, and he walks to the bathroom, setting you down on the marble sink top. he leans into the shower, adjusting the temperature and turning the water on. he lets it heat up and turns back to you. no words are exchanged as he peels your ruined panties off, as he unhooks your bra and drops its all onto the counter. he tugs you off of the side, guiding your under the stream of water, the warmth making you relax into him. he’s more than happy to prop you up.

“my legs ache.” you giggle, resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“was it worth it?”

“definitely.”

“good.”

he cleans you, massaging soap into your skin, and washing it off. you stay close while he does the same for himself, passing him different products as you clean up together. it’s quiet, nothing needs to be said, and you wonder if this is what life with him would be like. domestic and easy.

“stay.” you let yourself ask, croaking the request out into the silence. you’re both drying off, and he’s gathering he’s clothes.

“i thought you’d want me to go.” he looks like a deer in headlights. cute.*

“stay.” your repeat, and this time it sounds like a plea. he slides his boxers on.

“okay.”

he’s like a furnace under the covers and you can’t help but curl into his side, legs wrapping around eachothers. there’s no going back from this, you fear. he’s thinking the same thing. you kiss his chest as you fall asleep, just a quick press of your lips to his pec, but it makes him hot all over. if the lights were still on, you’d see him blushing. he returns the favour with careful peck to your hairline. you both nuzzle impossibly closer.

“has it ever been like that for you?” you whisper into the darkness. you hear the change in his breathing.

the question is loaded; have you ever felt like this before? was that just sex to you? what are we? what is this? do you want me how i want you?

“never.” it’s barely a whisper

you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

-

when you wake up, he stirs, bronzed arms tightening around you.

“go back to sleep.” he grumbles, pulling your back to his chest.

“i need to catch my flight.” you reply, turning around to face him.

you’re stunned when you see him smushed into the pillow, lips pouty, eye lashes fluttering to clear away sleep. he looks so pretty in the morning light, and you wish you’d asked him to stay the night sooner.

“just fly with me.” lando mutters. you freeze.

“lan, you know i can’t do that. what would that look like?”

“who cares?” he half shrugs behind you, and you wriggle away, sit up in bed.

“uh, me? i care, lando. i can’t be seen flying around with some other driver, do you know how much that would complicate things?”

“some other driver.” he huffs. that gets his attention, and he sits up. “what so we can sneak around, and you’ll let me fuck you, but being on an airplane together is crossing the line?” he grunts sarcastically. you narrow your eyes at him.

“don’t say it like that.” you scold.

“how should i say it, then? i thought maybe this meant something more to you.” he’s standing from the bed now, hurt thick in his voice, and you panic, reaching out for him, but he’s finding his clothes.

“it does! it does mean something to me but… lando, i can’t put charles in that position. i can’t put myself in that position.” you reason weakly, standing and rapidly moving towards him. you pull him to face you, holding onto his shoulders. “don’t go, please.” you whisper, cupping his cheek.

he stares down at you, dejected, a wounded animal, and pushes your hands off of him.

“i, uh. i care about you. a lot. too much, i think. i can’t go through this again, and you can’t hurt your brother. so…” he breathes shakily.

“so?” you plead, shaking your head. “don’t do this, we can…”

“i’m not gonna be ‘some other driver’, honey. ‘m sorry.”

“lando-“

“its okay. this was good while it lasted, and i know you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, without all of the, uh,” he gestures around blindly. “the complications.”

“don’t go.” you whisper, catching his hand. tears pool in the corners of your eyes, distorting him.

“go catch your flight.” he smiles sadly, finally dressed, and then he’s gone.

you stand frozen, taking stock of whatever the fuck just happened.

i care about you.

good while it lasted.

you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.

complications.

you choke out a sob, stumble backwards onto the foot of your bed when it hits you.

you’d already found what you were looking for, and now, he was gone.

-

you’re supposed to go straight to qatar with charles, but you beg him to get you a flight home instead.

he can hear that you’ve been crying, and tells you that he’ll kill anyone that you need him to. you promise it’s fine, through even more tears, tell him that you’ll fill him in when he’s got a minute to breathe.

the ticket lands in your inbox and you flee. you spend the twelve hour flight watching love actually, crying into a glass of wine, and wondering if you should get gracie abrams’ lyrics tattooed on your forehead.

i love you, i’m sorry would be quite fitting right about now.

when you land, you don’t even go home, making a beeline for alex and charles’ apartment instead. when alex lets you in, confused to see your face, leo does laps around your feet. you drop your bags and fall into her arms, sob until your throat is raw and your eyes are bloodshot.

“i fucked up.” you wail, breathing hard.

“lando?” she asks, tentative. she has a knowing look, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.

“what? how did you-“

“well let’s just say that we saw the DM he sent you, and arthur was actually sat opposite me when you said you were with him.” she admits. you gasp.

“does charles… does he…?”

“oh, sweetie, charles knows nothing. although he did ask me what shoe size you wear after coming to your place a few weeks back. he said something about a pair of birkenstocks that looked huge compared to your other shoes, and i told him that was just the style.” she snorts, and you slap your hand over your forehead.

“oh, jesus.” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“wanna tell me what happened?”

“i don’t even know, he asked me to fly with him and then i said it would complicate things, that i couldn’t been seen with, quote on quote, ‘some other driver.’” you sigh.

“some other driver? oh, girl.”

“yep.”

“were you guys dating…? or?”

“no! lately things had been a bit more,” you pause, gathering your thoughts. “intimate? i don’t know. i definitely have feelings for him.”

alex looks at you sympathetically, strokes your knee soothingly.

“have you told him that?”

“no, i didn’t know how and now he’s done with me.” you wince, a fresh wave of tears pricking your eyes.

“maybe not, sweetie, maybe you if you told him how you felt, he’d understand. is charles what you’re worried about?”

“charles, the fans, all of it.” you whimper.

“the fans can be, well, intense, but take it from me, if lando’s worth it, none of that matters. is he worth it?”

you pause, weighing it all up. the way he’d been with you, so gentle and caring, considerate and interested in you. he’d made you feel safe and satisfied, and everytime you caught him looking at you, you felt that first initial spark all over again. you could laugh with him, push and tease and not just be charles leclerc’s little sister. you look forward to seeing him, feeling him, speaking to him. all of this together feels heavy, but you want to bear it.

“he is.” you whisper, looking at alex nervously. “oh, god, what do i do?”

“i think there’s a paddock pass with your name on it that you should make use of.” she tells you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “and if charles has a problem, tell him he has to go through me.”

-

10. pizza and pasta.

max fewtrell sips his coffee in the hotel lobby, waiting for keegan to join him. it’s hot in qatar, dry and bright, ornate.

his phone buzzes.

message request from: yourusername

HI SORRY ARE YOU IN QATAR????

he probably looks like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his skull.

another message comes through.

this sounds insane and i’m sorry that this is like, the first time we’ve ever spoken, but i need a huge favour. like a really really huge favour.

max scratches the back of his head, pulling a face at his phone. baffled wouldn’t even begin to cover how he feels.

he picks up his phone, and opens the messages.

-

lando over exerts himself keeping away from you. the sprint race had been a breeze compared to staying away, out of your reach. it hurts like hell, but it’s a necessary evil for both your sakes.

he wants to sleep, do nothing else but collapse onto his mattress, phone silenced and curtains drawn as tightly shut as they can go. he unlocks the door to his hotel room. the light flashes green, and he relaxes, finally. until, he doesn’t.

there’s a faint sound coming from down the short corridor that separates his front door from his sleeping area. it’s not max, he’s just left him outside his own hotel room, and it’s not keegan, either, for the same reason. he wonders if he has another stalker, braces himself and picks up the first thing he can find. a shoe. useless, he thinks.

lando creeps down the corridor, poised and ready, jumps out of his skin when you round the corner before he can get there. you yelp, bracing yourself against the wall.

“what the fuck, i thought you were a murderer!” lando huffs, throwing his head back.

somehow, the sight of you is worse than any murderer could ever be.

“putain! god, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you squeak.

“how did you get in here?”

“funny story,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look harmless. “max let me in.”

“verstappen?” lando asks, face twisting with confusion.

“no, idiot. fewtrell.” you reply, duh-like. “i can go, i know this is crazy and weird and a total violation, but i had to talk to you.” your voice softens and lando seems to finally relax. he’ll kill max later.

“this is batshit, actually, but i respect the grind.” lando shrugs. “what do you want?” he sounds harsher than intended, closed off, but you suppose you deserve it.

“i’m sorry about what happened last weekend.” you inhale shakily. “i… i care about you a lot, too, and i have done for a while but i was too scared to say it. i realised as soon as you left that i never ever wanna hurt you like that. never want you to feel like i don’t lo- care about you… like that.” you catch yourself, not ready to say certain words. he gets the gist.

“i don’t wanna be some hookup anymore. it was fine at first, when i thought that’s all i could have from you, but i know that it’s not. i want you.” lando states, his words poignant. “whatever pace you need, whatever you want from me, i wanna give it to you.”

the space between you dissipates.

“i saw you, you know, watching me from your garage all those months ago, like you were trying place me.” your voice is barely above a whisper. “admittedly, i kinda wanted to punch you for ruining that dress, but i also, really really secretly thought you were cute.”

“well, if we’re being honest, i really wanted to fuck you the first time i saw you.” he jokes crudely, and you slap his chest. “in my defence, i was blackout drunk.”

“asshole.” you mutter. you’re so close now that his nose bumps yours.

“i think you like it.” he whispers.

“yeah, i really do.”

your lips meet his urgently, homecoming. it’s been too long since you’ve had him in your hands, touched him and felt him breathe against you. the kiss is passionate, frantic, and you know you’re in love with him. you’re certain.

-

an hour later, you’re tucked into bed with him, a movie that you’re not paying attention to playing idly on the tv. pizza crusts lay on a plate, the leftovers of your impromptu dinner date.

you’ve covered your degree, how he got into racing, what you do for work, who you’re friends are, family dynamics.

you learn that his favourite colour actually is yellow, and he learns that you’re favourite drink is red wine. he prefers pizza, you prefer pasta. you like flat whites, and he doesn’t like coffee at all.

“after abu dhabi, i’ll take you on a real date. i promise.” he sounds excited as he says it, and you melt into his side.

“oh yeah?” you ask, looking up at him, your cheeks smushed against his shoulder. he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. he just hums in response, gazing down at you.

“gonna talk to your brothers as well.” he murmurs, dipping down to peck your lips.

“not just yet.” you whisper. he furrows his eyebrows.

“why?” he doesn’t sound upset, maybe a little deflated.

“i wanna enjoy this a bit longer, at least go on a real date before, you know, they kill you.” you keep your tone serious, holding it together well. he bursts out laughing, squeezing you closer.

“and here i was worried that you were ashamed of me.” he’s grinning toothily, boyish and pure, and you kiss him again, deeper.

“never.” you coo.

-

11. daylight.

abu dhabi is a distant memory by the time you get back to monaco. you were happy for your brother and your boyfriend.

yeah, that’s what you get to call him now.

your first date had been effortless and yet so intricately perfect, lando planning it down to the last detail. flowers delivered to you the morning of, picking you up at the door, telling you just how beautiful you looked. your table had been waiting for you, candlelit, dressed immaculately. a bottle of red wine served as the centrepiece, your favourite kind. swoon.

he orders pizza, you order pasta. halfway through, you switch plates.

you wake up the next morning in his arms, content and satiated, still bare from the night before. your phone is buzzing, stirring your both out of your deep sleep. you ignore it.

“c’mere.” he begs, breath fanning out across your neck and you wriggle backwards, further into his arms. your naked skin moulds with his, and you can feel him, ready and waiting against the curve of your ass. he’s still half asleep, and so are you, but you spread your legs just enough for him to swipe himself through your folds and slip right in.

you groan at the stretch, he shushes you soothingly, clinging to your frame. everything is so warm and heightened.

“so ready for me.” he whispers, kissing over your shoulder, hips making the most minimal, languid thrusts that make you dizzy.

“want you like this every morning.” you purr, hiking your top leg up even further. he’s basically on top of you now, his body half covering yours.

lando drags your hips back to meet his, breathing heavily against the back of your neck.

“anytime you want me ‘m here. ‘m yours.” lando mutters, eyes rolling back in his head when you clench around him. lewd sounds are exchanged between your lazy bodies, so worked up, two powder kegs desperate to explode.

it happens in waves, powerful orgasms washing over your bodies like the sunlight through the curtains. it’s bright and warm and leaves you buzzing underneath him, electrified.

“good morning.” you smirk, rolling over to face him.

he’s already sunk back down into the mattress, a satisfied grin on his face, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks where his eyes have fallen shut. he looks angelic, and if it wasn’t for his devious ways, you’d hail him a saint.

“very good morning, baby.” lando pants, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“you look so pretty.” you breathe, raking your nails through his hair. he groans, shivers of pleasure radiating through his scalp and down his back.

“not as pretty as you.” he surges forward, pinning you to the bed, the pair of you a hazy mess of limbs and laughter, so wrapped up in eachother. he’s peppering you with kisses, all over you face and your chest, further and further down your body.

round two is about to commence, and you’re more than excited, ready to welcome him back between your thighs, when you both here a loud, repetitive thud coming from faraway. lando pulls back, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“is that the door?” he says to himself. “sorry, baby. need to get that.” he frowns apologetically. you sigh, waving your hand in understanding, watching as he grabs a robe.

-

charles nearly chokes on air and fury when he gets the all caps message from arthur, followed by one from lorenzo, then his publicist.

arthur: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER? i don’t know if i should laugh or cry

enzo: be nice to her, don’t be a little bitch

publicist: Charles, we will need to address this news immediately and conclude whether the photos are out of context or not. Meeting scheduled on the shared calendar.

first question: what fucking photos? did someone catch him picking his nose in public?

second question: who does he need to be nice too?

third question: can he not go five fucking minutes without some impending media crisis?

he opens twitter and doesn’t need to look hard, because there on his screen is a picture taken the night before of his precious baby sister, and there is lando fucking norris with his tongue down her throat.

alex asks him where he’s going, watching him storm out keys in hand. he doesn’t respond with anything but a growl and a mutter of your name. alex’s eyes go wide, reached for her phone.

to: your number

girl he knows! idk how but he KNOWS!

for once in your life PICK UP THE PHONE

JESUS OKAY i just saw twitter…

OKAY im tracking charles location rn and looks like he’s near lando’s?

MISS LECLERC PLEASE! HELLO?????

it was nice knowing you babe.

-

you pick up your phone as lando leaves the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your notifications. your interest peaks, however, when you see about a million texts from alex, and even more missed call. in fact, you have literally thousands of notifications, and your blood runs cold.

you’d been so careful last night, surely it hadn’t leaked. your blood runs cold when you open your text chain with alex. the aggressive knocking on the door suddenly makes harrowing sense and you spring from the mattress just in time to hear the front door click.

“is she here?” you hear charles bellow, voice laced thickly with anger.

“uh… who?” lando tries, he really does, but he’s not a good liar. you wince, grabbing anything to cover your dignity: lando’s sweats and a t-shirt. you scramble out of the bedroom, sliding down the corridor from the sheer speed you’re moving at.

“fucking hell.” charles sighs, wincing at the sight of you. “of all the people on the planet, you pick my rival? you pick him?” charles barks at you. you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing as your chest constricts. “i told you. i specifically told you not to mess around with him, and c’mon, i don’t ask you for much.” charles throws his hands out in frustration.

“charles, listen to me,” you keep your voice calm and steady. “we’re not messing around, we… we’re together.” you confirm, watching his jaw tick.

“together? with him? do you know how many girls probably think they’re in a relationship with him? half of the portuguese modelling industry is linked to him.” charles laughs incredulously, disgusted. your eyes narrow, watching lando crumble into a million pieces in your peripheral.

“don’t you dare ruin this for me! and how can you come into his house and speak to him that way? my god, charles, you don’t get it, do you? i can never be happy with anyone because of you! everyone, everyone, uses me to get to you and, god, i finally found someone who cares about me and couldn’t give less of a shit about who you are and you don’t approve? shall i stay single and lonely and in your shadow forever? should i go for some greasy hedge fund legacy who wants to fuck any leclerc he can get his hands on? huh? i’m sorry if you don’t approve, truly, i am, but you will not have a say in this.”

charles stays silent, as does lando, the only sound in the hallway being your heavy breathing, a symptom of your monologue. you feel the ghost of lando’s touch on your waist, soothing you from your outburst, and you lean into his touch, looking up at him. his eyes are reassuring, the only source of comfort.

charles watches intently, the silent communication between you both, and it knocks him for six. ultimately, he wants you to be happy, but it begs the question: can lando make you happy? the way you truly deserve? he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a muttered string of expletives.

“will you look after her?” he stares daggers at lando, watches the way the brit straightens up.

“i will.” lando nods firmly, eyes sincere.

“and you won’t hurt her? you won’t fuck her around?” charles looks like he’s desperately pleading, but his voice is commanding, no margin for error.

“i promise.”

“and you’ll make her happy?”

“i’d do anything for her.”

your head snaps towards lando, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking the dam. charles watches closely, steps backwards towards the door. there isn’t space for him here right now.

“okay. i- okay.” you watch the way charles backs down, and he finally meets your eyes again. “ma chére, je suis désolé.” he tells you solemnly. you nod, lips in a thin, hard line. you can feel lando nudge you forward.

“come here, loser.” you groan, opening your arms for your brother. charles meets you half way, squeezes you tight. he gently kisses your forehead and turns to leave, not before shooting lando a look that says ‘i’m watching you.’

you turn back to your newfound boyfriend, tears still falling, but you pay them no mind.

“well done, baby.” he affirms, thumbing away your tears.

“i love you, lando.” you whisper, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” his eyes glaze over, total adoration swirling in the pools of green.

“so glad you said that because i absolutely love you too.” he laughs, hauling you in for a kiss. it’s a mess of tears and laughter and a weird sense of serenity.

“you might wanna call your publicist. pictures of last night leaked.” you mumble against his lips.

“at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” he shrugs. “i’ll call later. got things to do.” he picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. you squeal, and he teasingly slaps your ass.

you catch sight of the apartment as he walks you through it, and you think about the first time you saw it, under the cover of darkness, covert and clandestine.

you much prefer it in the light of day.

you prefer lando in the light of day, too.

yourusername and landonorris just posted on instagram:

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and others.

yourusername: oops!

comments on this post have been disabled.

-

thank god that’s over lmfao - thank you for reading!!

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[intromortal]

✷ LIQUID SWEETENER ⸻ sim jaeyun

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care, fingering, praise, degradation (use of slut like once? and pet), he's mostly very sweet tho i promise, oral f!rec, squirting, mentions of free use, multiple orgasms, quick aftercare, jake comes untouched he's down bad sorry ! ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ oneshot ⸻ 5.2k words

✷ NIA — i finally got around to rewriting this omfg. this rewrite is for my sweet @heechwe and all the nonnies who asked for this to be posted again <3

It's not everyday Jake gets to take care of you, so when you're all sickly and weak, it's hard to evade his attentions no matter how hard you try.

Jake pouts when you shoot down yet another attempt to get you to take your medicine. "Why don't you just chug it? I promise it's not as bad as you think."

He’s been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin.

"If it's not as bad as I think, why are you suggesting I just chug it?" Your voice is slightly muffled as you eye him suspiciously from under the heavy cover pulled up all the way to your nose.

"You're the one insisting it's disgusting without even trying it, I asked for the best flavor possible when I got it." He made sure to pick out a syrup that doesn't taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he can picture it right in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again—which you wouldn't agree to take anyway.

For how much you hate being sick, you seem to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighs, resting the cap filled to the brim with honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge. He licks whatever residue is left on his sticky fingers. "Really not that bad. It's sweet."

"So it's not good either," you huff back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep. "I'm not even that sick anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jake looks at you with an arched brow, then points his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding grounds for bio terrorism allegations.”

He stops you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispers against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

His plump lips thin into that gorgeous wide smile of his as he speaks,“but you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?”

He knows very well what you mean, and a frustrated grumble spills out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wants you to say the quiet part out loud. Neither of you is used to going without pleasuring each other for long periods of time, and anything longer than three days is eons according to Jake. You're surprised he's behaved as well as he has this past week, you thought he would be the one to cave in first.

“Want…more,” you crank one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slips in it. You blink a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observes you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake has to be completely honest with himself, he's not particularly sad at you being a little sick. 

Sure, it sounds mean when he says it out loud, but you're not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoys doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl has a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work. 

You're always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoys knowing he's helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he's making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprays on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake takes notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it.

Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licks away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick doesn't help, being physically weak and needing rest doesn't stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you have nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupts your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You look up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he's about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you're pretty sure a boulder just crushed you right on your chest. You groan, turning to the other side so you can properly sulk without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you'd love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice is muffled by the pillow currently squished against your face.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me.” You grab the sides of the pillow and push them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles. 

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he whispers, and the loving tone makes your body feel light.

You suddenly push yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement. “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too misses your touch, far more than what he lets on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions. He often found himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom, trying not to wake you up because he knew if you caught him he wouldn't be able to get out of your claws.

And you really need the rest.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you add, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake is thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever get like this, and he enjoys every second of it. You can tell because he's pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. On any other occasion he would've been all over you before you could even finish your sentence. But Jake doesn't care, not when he doesn't know when the next time he gets to hear you beg a little for him is gonna be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he says. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” You glare at him with all the fake anger you can muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words die in your throat as you feet the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee.

"No, no. Keep talking." He slowly gets under the covers, and it's not because he's testing your reaction. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

You try to hide the way you gulp, eyes still fixed on his body as he gets comfortable on his side, facing you.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispers against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he sneaks an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his chest. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reach for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guide it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you grind against it.

"I suppose you've had enough rest."

You take notice of how his breath hitches in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you use his hand. The illusion wears off even more when he tries to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You know he wants it just as bad as you do, you're just willing to beg for it as long as it gets you what you want.

“I’ll—” you gasp when he flexes his fingers that tiny little bit you need to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” his voice is light and airy as he moves the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickles your neck, Jake’s mouth dipping down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whine, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

Had you not been so deprived of Jake’s touch, you would have found the way you're grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you're desperate, so you can't bring yourself to care too much about how pathetic you probably look to anyone else.

The only people in the room are you and Jake anyway, and he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it. His cock is stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you are through your shorts. Dripping already and he barely touched you.

"You're so fucking hot. You know that?" Jake nibbles the shell of your ear, making you arch further in his hold. “You'll do anything you said? How about you take your medicine then?” He moves his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak attempts at clawing his arm to get the little taste of pleasure he took away from you back.

He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimper, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little piece of shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sings in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nod, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound could make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh comes up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smooths over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbles, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your scent. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole and soaking your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slides under your shorts,and a gasp leaves you because of how cold he feels. Jake is always warmer than you, but your fever makes it so his touch feels icy against your skin. Your back arches slightly when one of his digits parts your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggles into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly drags them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually, his stupid little jokes would’ve made you groan and push his face away. But this time—blame his voice for being deeper and hoarser than normal, or blame your fever—it makes you clench around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he takes his sweet time playing with you, savoring the moment.

Your head digs deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathes into your neck and goes back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he can reach.

A yelp leaves your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you closed shooting open when Jake bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smooths over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, the pleasure overriding anything else. 

Jake finally prods two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction is instantaneous, cunt fluttering against his fingertips right away. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake is so fucking turned on, he can barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind is get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He feels like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life is just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seems different to him, almost animalistic, from the way you rut your hips against his hand as soon as he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, to the way you aren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this is just from his fingers, he can do so much worse.

You yourself aren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you help Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you feel from the fever. His fingers are so long, hitting all the right spots you know you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles drag against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasp when he turns his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knows has you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room is filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You can feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashes on you, heavy and almost painful. You claw at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake is not facing you anymore.

He looks at the comforter, over his shoulder. The cap filled with syrup is still there amidst the mess. He twists his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he's fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spill onto his shirt as he takes a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tries his best to hold it in his mouth. You're still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty to the point you don't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend is providing you with.

“J-Jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabs your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure you've learned means it is time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he know you to be. And you do just that; immediately following his movements like he trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure.

He bends down slightly to aim better, but this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expect, he lets small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly try to back away from him, but he holds you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor does he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand holds your jaw open, grasp getting firmer every time you try to break free from it. After all, you made a promise, and Jake's going to make sure you fulfill it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouths against your lips once he makes sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashes his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss but a silencing of any complaint you're about to spit at him. Those turn to even more whines when he finally brings his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucks you to your orgasm. It's almost instantaneous, you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth, but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slow down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too relishes in how your cunt pulses around his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh, he wishes it was his cock being constricted like that instead, but that can wait.

You finally feel like you can breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you possibly can, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets are drenched around you, and you can't even pinpoint when it happened, but you can immediately tell you aren't the only one who made a mess. Your gaze wanders to Jake’s pants, and a very evident stain on his crotch catches your attention. And fuck, if you aren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looks absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste, truly.

You sneak your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake lets out when you wrap your hand around his cock and pump a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watches you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you lick your fingers clean. He slides his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up just as much as you did him. His heart races in his chest as you keep looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you speak up, giggling when Jake interrupts you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curls an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He places a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–” 

“And won’t.” he deadpans, sensing where you're trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smile to yourself, feeling feather light kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He places a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grab a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rests his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you say, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzles his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He places another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you take too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughs at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence is muffled against your mound as you push his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggle as you lay back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue makes contact with your cunt.

Jake's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as he takes his sweet time collecting all of the slick coating your lips and smearing it all over your skin. It's methodical in a way Jake very rarely is, nothing like the primal and messy mixing of his own spit with your arousal and grunting noises you're so used to. When he gets like this, it's purely to tease you.

You grab a fistful of his hair, the strands soft in your hand, and raise his head to force him to look at you.

You almost regret it when you're met with the sight of him licking his lips, his plump lips spreading in a grin that looks almost evil. His irises are entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils, and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't send a chill down your spine. The good kind, the type that also makes you clench your thighs against his frame.

"If you're gonna beg me to eat me out," you say, finding your strength again and being careful not to let Jake see any weakness on your features. "You better do it properly."

You try to keep a straight face when he erupts in a fit of giggles.

"Oooh, look at you—" he starts, clearly amused by your attempt to assert dominance. "I know what I'm doing. You know I know what I'm doing. It just seems to me that I've spoiled the princess a little too much lately." He lowers his head to your thighs, and litters soft kisses as he makes himself comfortable again. Somewhere along the lines, the harsh hold you had on his hair turned into your hand dragging him closer, but you can't pinpoint the exact moment.

Or you just really don't care to know, not when Jake starts lapping up at your cunt like he's starving.

"You taste so delicious, baby," he moans between licks, his nose pressing further into your heat with every movement of his. "So much better than any medicine. Fuck—you're gonna be my little cure from now on. Every time I'm sick, I'll just let you open your legs for me. You'd let me, baby. Wouldn't you?"

You nod vehemently, before realizing he can't see you. "Yes, please use me," you moan, spreading your thighs as far as you can while pushing his head closer to you, even when it's almost physically impossible for Jake to even breathe. Not that he would have it any other way.

The grip on his hair, the way you push and pull at it as if you have any command over the stimulation he's giving you, the way you sing for him with every flick of his tongue. It all makes Jake's head spin in the best way possible, his cock stiff again in his pants and throbbing against the very fabric he ruined with his cum only minutes before.

He grunts and moans into you, like he's the one being pleasured, and it all adds to the magic Jake is working on you. The vibrations only aiding in inching you closer to the second orgasm of the day.

"Jake, I'm close, please."

You don't need to say anything else, because he parts from your cunt for a single second. Just enough to let a gobble of his spit drip down right on your engorged clit, coating it in more shiny essence.

You're about the complain about the lack of stimulation, but he dives right back in, licking a singular stripe from your poor mess a of hole upwards. He can taste the remains of the syrup in his own spit still, and paired with the straight up divine taste of your own slick, Jake thinks he might be in heaven.

"So sweet, baby. So fucking sweet. It's like you want me to never stop fucking you with my tongue." He catches your little bundle of nerves between his raw lips, already wet with spit, suckling on it like he's trying to coax even more wetness out of you. He swirls his tongue around it, his eyebrows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration as he keeps toying and prodding at every single part of your pussy.

You're so unbelievably close to coming undone, every passing second just bringing you closer to the brink. All it takes to send you over the edge is Jake moaning with your numb right in his mouth, the small vibrations from it all you needed for the searing white feeling to envelop you completely, the familiar silent yet still deafening tingly sensation spreading from your core to all the limbs in your body.

Jake keeps lapping up all your generous body gives him, thankful for it all and careful not to let a single drop go to waste.

Your arm is thrown over your eyes as you catch your breath, this second orgasm completely emptying you of whatever energy you had left. Usually you would offer Jake to help him out as a little thank you, even though he told you time and time again that it wasn't needed and pleasing you what was got him off in the first place.

But as much as you denied it initially, the fever did take a toll on you, more than you would like to admit. So any further activity would have to wait.

"Yummy." Jake comes up from below you, drying the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand. Even if you're tired and spent, the comment is enough to make you remove your arm from your eyes just so you can give him a well deserved death stare.

He gets up from the bed, disappearing for a few seconds into the bathroom. "What's with that look? No 'thank you Jake, you're the best?'"

When you don't reply, far too weakened to even try to banter with your boyfriend, he walks back into the room with a towel and a worried look etched on his gorgeous features.

He gets on the bed again, careful not to move your body more than necessary, and starts cleaning you up with the gentlest touch you've ever felt him use. "Did i tire you out too much? You're still sick—"

"You were great. Don't worry," you stop his train of thoughts you knew you wouldn't hear the end of if you let him go on for any longer. "I just need a nap, then I'll be as good as new."

The tension in Jake's shoulders only disappears once you smile at him, his own face morphing to match your own. It's one of your favorite things about him, how he's so careful and attentive to every hint and feeling on your face, he ends up mirroring them without even noticing.

He runs his hands soothingly all over your skin as he resumes cleaning you up, the room falling into a peaceful silence.

You almost fall asleep, but you should've known Sim Jake shutting up for once was far too good to be true.

"Look at the mess you made though. This is enough to start an entire pharmacy."

[coldfanbou]

Least Restrictive Environment

So, this isn't what I wanted to put out. I got sick in the middle of the week, and looking at a screen has been difficult. I just happened to have this nearly finished, so I added a little bit more to it. It's part 2 of the Sana and Momo Kinkcember fic. That being said, it's pretty much just an update on what happened after P1 and smut, so it might be better to call it an epilogue. I'm starting to ramble anyway. I hope you enjoy it.

Length 2.1K

Sana X Momo X M reader

Once your relationship with your foster sisters had come to light, life became awkward in your home. The three of you would have constant sex when your parents were out; it didn’t matter where in the house it would happen; in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, everywhere was fair game. Your foster parents had had enough after a time. The smell bothered them more than anything. Considering there was no blood relation between any of you, they were okay with you being together; they just wanted you all to move out.

Together, the three of you were able to afford a decent place, renting a nice-sized apartment that quickly became your home. With the constant urge to play with each other, it was only a matter of time before Sana and Momo got pregnant. They were as happy as could be when they found out, and they wouldn’t allow their pregnancy to stop their daily activities. 

While Sana went out to get some shopping done, you were with Momo, your hands digging into her shoulders as you massaged them. Momo groaned as your hands unknotted the tension, feeling your breath against her back move her to push for more. You hadn’t had sex yet, having agreed to wait for Sana to come back. Momo figured she might be able to convince you. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at you, “I need you to get a spot, but let me take this off.” She said, making you pause. Momo lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it on the bed. The shirt was Momo’s only clothes, leaving her naked; considering how far along she was, she didn’t wear her bras anymore, and with the constant sex you all had, she had given up on panties long ago. Momo smirked as you asked her where she wanted you to focus. She reached back and grabbed your hands, “Right here,” Momo said, placing your hands on her engorged tits. You move closer to Momo, looking over her shoulder. Her breasts were weightier; her nipples had turned a darker color as well. The sight of her bare breasts turned you on, and Momo could feel your hardening cock against her ass.

“Oh, it feels like you need to get some tension out, too,” Momo said with a smirk. She has you squeeze her tits once before turning around. “Lay down for me, baby, and take those clothes off. Mommy is going to make you feel good.” You had to admit Momo taking charge aroused you more than anything, so you did as you were told. Once your clothes were off, Momo patted her lap, “Lay down here.” You rested against Momo, letting her adjust your position at will. In the end, she had her hand wrapped around your cock as she offered you one of her tits. You couldn’t resist; the large mounds were hypnotizing. You leaned in, running your tongue along her areola before taking it into your mouth. Momo’s hand began to move along your length slowly. You were growing harder, and Momo noticed, smiling as your precum began to cover her hand. “Oh, you’re so hard already. Does Mommy’s hand feel that good?” You nod, continuing to suck on her tit. “Are you going to cum soon?” She asked, speeding up slightly. In her pregnancy Momo had little patience, often wanting to drain you of all your cum as quickly as she could.

“Cum for Mommy,” Momo whispered into your ear with a smirk, her grip becoming oh so slightly stronger. You groan as she moves her hand along your shaft, her delicate fingers massaging the head as she moves to the tip. You can barely focus on her tits, Momo’s hand never stopped moving. Your groans only get louder, even as you suck on her tits. Momo’s breathy moans grow longer as she pumps your cock, feeling it begin to throb in her hand. “You can cum whenever you like. Mommy knows you have a lot more for her.” Momo cranes her neck, reveling in the pleasure as you flick her sensitive nipple with your tongue. “Mmm, keep going, baby; maybe you’ll get some milk.” Momo moans. You reach up and gently squeeze her breast, drawing milk from her nipple. “Ah! Don’t steal it all.” Momo’s breathing gets heavier as her milk fills your mouth. You feel her hand on the back of your head, keeping you against her chest as the hand on your cock begins to speed up.

You were getting close to cumming, and wanting to last a little longer, you tense your body. As you do, though, you accidentally bite down on Momo’s nipple. She yelps and squeezes down on the tip of your cock, making you cum. Your semen sprays onto her hand, coating it in the sticky substance. You quickly release your bite and pull away, apologizing as Momo continues to stroke your cock. “You can’t be so rough,” Momo says softly, bringing her hand to her lips. She drags her tongue along her hand, happily swallowing your cum.

She lays back on the bed, spreading her legs for you, her bulging belly more noticeable now as you take in her body. Momo notices your stares and places her hand on her belly. “This is yours, I’m yours.” She says with a smile. Momo moves her right hand down to her wet lips, spreading them apart slowly.  You gulp, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at Momo’s body. Grabbing your cock, you inch closer to Momo, your foster sister, your lover, the mother to your soon-to-be child. You rub yourself against her entrance, both of you cooing from the jolt of pleasure. 

Just as you’re about to push inside, the bedroom door opens. “Yah! You said you would wait!” You turn around and see Sana, her cheeks puffed out. “Don’t move! I get to go first!” The flustered woman rushes to take off her dress, slipping the straps off her shoulder and pulling it over her belly until it falls onto the floor. Sana waddles over to the bed, climbing onto it and putting herself beside Momo. The younger woman pouts, her brows furrowed as she looks at the shameless older sister. “You said you wouldn’t start without me.”

“It’s not my fault. He was giving me a massage, and I thought he needed some relief, too.” Momo retorted, a smirk on her face, and a feeling of smugness came over her. She turns to you, “You wanted me to help you, right?” Momo was trying to pin all this on you. You can’t help but appreciate the ridiculousness of her claim, especially when you both knew Sana would side with whatever you said.

Sana turns to you, expecting to hear an honest answer. “Momo seduced me. She started moaning when I was massaging her shoulders.” You tell the younger woman. Momo sticks her tongue out at Sana, who returns it with an angry pout. 

“You guys didn’t wait, so it’s only fair that I get to go first.” Sana says before reaching out for you, “Come on, let’s go,” Sana says, playfully kicking her feet. You move over to her and rub your cock against her slit for a brief moment before pushing into her cunt, her plump lips spreading as you push inside of her. Sana shuts her eyes and moans softly as you fill her; even though sex was a daily tradition at this point, she missed having your cock inside her. She runs her hands down your arms and intertwines her hand with yours, smiling at you as you begin to thrust into her. Momo pouts and gently turns onto her side, reaching over and squeezing one of Sana’s engorged breasts, letting some milk leak from her nipple. 

“Mm, you’re both so mean for leaving me out.” Momo whines, unbothered by the situation, just wanting to remind you both she is still there. The older woman turns Sana’s head and kisses her, continuing to squeeze her foster sister’s tits and adding to the pleasure she was feeling. Sana’s whines were muffled because of the kiss. Momo had teased Sana’s tongue, coaxing the younger woman to poke it out before she began sucking on it. Sana could only moan as you thrust into her cunt; she was being pushed to the edge as you both played with her body. You added to the pleasure, sneaking one of your hands away from Sana’s and using it to brush at her clit. 

“N-no, I don’t want to cum yet,” Sana mumbled with a grimace as she felt the waves of pleasure coming over her faster and faster. Her walls began to tighten around your cock, and her body tensed before she exploded, her cream covering your cock as she came. Sana cried out as you kept thrusting, pushing yourself to the edge.

“Sana, I’m cumming, “ you grunted.

Sana quickly pulled you in, holding you tightly against her chest. “Inside! Cum inside me!” Sana shouts, wrapping her legs around you in an attempt to keep you inside. It made you smile to see her so desperate for it, you were always planning on giving Sana a creampie, and this just made you want to do it more. You bury yourself inside Sana, pumping her full of your semen. Sana breath hitches as she feels your hot cum flow inside her. She smiles, and her body relaxes around you. Momo smiles and pinches the tired woman’s nipple before stealing a kiss from her. 

“Did it feel good?” It was a rhetorical question, but Sana answered anyway.

“As good as always.”

Momo wrinkles her nose before laying back and beckoning you to her. “Now it’s my turn.” The elder sister spread her lips much like before. You rub your cum-covered cock against her entrance, making her giggle. “You’re going to leave me all dirty.”

You lean over the pregnant woman, “You’re always dirty when we’re done.” You whisper into her ear. Momo laughs as you slide your dirty cock inside her, moaning as your thrusts begin. You watch as her tits bounce along with your thrusts. They had only grown bigger since she had gotten pregnant. The same could be said for Sana, but Momo’s breasts often stole the limelight. You held onto Momo’s waist as you thrust, moaning as her tight walls clung to you. 

Despite being tired, Sana still had enough energy to return the favor Momo had given her. She turned on her side and latched onto one of Momo’s breasts, suckling on it as fucked the older woman. “Ah, wait! That’s-” Momo bit her lip, her hums filling the room. You leaned down and latched onto her other breast. Together, you and Sana drank from Momo’s breasts, drinking her sweet milk. “That’s too much.” Momo groaned. Sana smiled, knowing that Momo was already on the verge of cumming because of her whines. She pulled away from her sister’s tit and kissed her, giving Momo a taste of her own milk.  While Sana was doing that, you made sure Momo’s breasts were being pleasured, pulling and pinching the engorged nub. Momo began to writhe, the pleasure overwhelming her.  

“Are you going to cum already?” You ask her, continuing to thrust into her wet cunt. 

Momo nods, weakly saying, “I’m gonna cum. Mommy’s going to cum.”

“Oh, you’re calling yourself mommy? I should do that, too!” Sana adds, smiling as she sees the grimace on Momo’s face. The older woman had prided herself on lasting a long time in bed, but since her pregnancy, she’s been cumming just as quickly as the rest of you. You grabbed Momo’s arms, crossing them under her breasts and holding onto them as you sped up your thrusts. Her tits bounced wildly as you rammed your cock inside her, Momo bit her lip as she tried to hold herself together, but it was futile. 

She cried out as she came, and you followed soon after, your cum pouring into Momo’s cunt. You pull out of Momo and lay on one side of her while Sana lies on the other, using her tiny fingers to pull on Momo’s hard nipple before moving her hand down to Momo’s belly. The older woman does the same, touching Sana’s stomach. “Don’t you think it’s great how big our family is going to get soon?” The cheer in her voice was enough to drag Momo into the conversation despite how tired she was. 

“It’ll be so big. Our little brother is going to keep putting his babies into us. Isn’t that right? Daddy?” Momo says, her voice going into a low, sultry tone as she refers to you as Daddy. 

“Of course, how could I not? Especially when we do it every day.” You say a bit of sarcasm in your voice at the end. Sana laughs, and Momo smiles at you, knowing that for all three of you, it was hard to resist the temptation.

[linoxpudding]

Written In The Stars (Pt 2)- Lee Know

summary: after you distance yourself, his heart longs for you, but he's too stubborn to admit it

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: heavy angst, soulmate au, hurt/comfort

word count: 3323 words

a/n: thank you for all your love for the first part, hope this one heals your heart <3

BONUS PART

Masterlist

~°~

You have always been good at making excuses. So when the weight of unspoken words between you and Minho became unbearable, you did what you had to do—you pulled away.

The group hangouts became rare for you. Work, family, sickness—any excuse that let you stay away from him.

It wasn’t easy. The ache in your chest never fully went away. Every time you saw Chan’s messages about another get-together, every time you imagined the others laughing, Minho sitting there like you never even existed, it hurt.

But it was better than being in the same room and pretending he wasn’t everything you wanted but could never have.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

************

Minho noticed your absence. At first, he didn’t think much of it.

People got busy. People had their own lives.

But the first time you canceled, he felt an odd, quiet disappointment, like something was missing from the night. He caught himself glancing at the door, waiting for you to walk in, only to be reminded— you weren’t coming.

Then it happened again.

And again.

And suddenly, he was noticing things he shouldn’t.

How the group felt different without you. How no one teased him the way you did, matched his sarcasm with your own. How his jokes felt like they were missing their other half.

He didn’t understand it. It wasn’t like you were his best friend. You weren’t even supposed to be important. But somehow, your absence lingered.

************

One night, he finally voiced it out loud.

“She hasn’t been coming lately.”

Chan looked up from his phone, “Huh?”

“Y/N,” he clarified.

“Oh, yeah. Said she’s been busy,” Chan replied.

Minho frowned. “Busy with what?”

“Life?” Chan snorted. “I dunno, man, why do you care?”

He didn’t. He shouldn’t.

But that was a lie, wasn’t it? Because the truth was, he missed you.

He missed the way you always had a comeback for his teasing. The way you noticed when he wasn’t in the mood for company but still sat beside him anyway. The way your laughter filled the space between them like something warm, something comforting.

He hadn’t realized just how important you were to him.

************

It took another month before he saw you again.

You hadn’t completely cut yourself off—you still messaged the group, still checked in from time to time. But you had kept your distance, avoiding any situation that would force you to be near him.

Until now.

You had made the mistake of running into him alone.

It was at a small café, the kind you loved. The kind you used to tell him about when you thought he was just your friend.

He saw you before you saw him. And for the first time in weeks, something in his chest eased.

You looked different. Not physically, but something in your expression—guarded, hesitant, like you were ready to turn and run if you saw him.

That hurt more than it should have.

So he did the only thing he could do before you ran away.

“Hey.”

You froze at the familiar voice, shoulders tensing before you turned. The moment your eyes met his, he felt it again—that pull, that strange, unspoken connection that neither of you dared to acknowledge.

“…Hey.” Your voice was careful, distant.

Minho hated it.

“Long time no see,” he tried, forcing a smirk. “What, did I scare you away or something?”

You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Something like that.”

He should’ve let it go. Should’ve let you walk away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he leaned against the counter, watching you closely. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

“Just busy,” you said quickly. Too quickly.

“Bullshit.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want me to say, Minho?”

He didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t want you to keep running. So he did something stupid. He reached for your wrist. The same wrist that held his mark.

Your breath caught, and he could feel the way you tensed beneath his touch. But you didn’t pull away.

“Do you regret it?” he asked suddenly.

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“This.” His thumb brushed over the star on your wrist. The same one on his own. The undeniable proof that you were supposed to be his. That he was supposed to be yours.

You swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “What do you think, Minho?”

He stared at you. At the quiet pain in your eyes. At the way you looked at him like he was both your greatest dream and your worst heartbreak.

He knew what you felt. Because somehow, against all odds and reason, he felt it too.

But the reality was still the same.

“I have a girlfriend.”

The words felt heavier than before. This time, they didn’t sound like a statement. They sounded like a reminder. Like he wasn’t just telling you but he was telling himself.

You finally pulled away, stepping back as if his touch burned.

“I know,” you whispered.

A flicker of something—pain, regret—flashed across his face. “I—”

“No, Minho,” you whispered, “you don’t owe me an explanation.”

You didn’t owe me anything at all.

And then, before he could stop you, you walked away. Minho just stood there, staring at his empty hands, wondering why it felt like he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

************

You had planned on avoiding another group hangout, but Chan had been persistent, and for once, you missed your friends too much to say no.

So you had gone. The second you walked in, you saw him. Minho was there. You knew he would be there, but still seeing him made your heart sink.

You should have left.

But then Chan hugged you, Seungmin had pulled you into a conversation, and you forced yourself to pretend that everything was okay.

It was only when you sat down that you felt his gaze. You hadn’t looked at him once, but you could feel it—the weight of his stare. When you finally glanced his way, he wasn’t looking at you anymore. But you had caught it. The way his fingers tapped against the table, restless. The way his eyes flickered to you whenever he thought you wouldn’t notice.

And then his girlfriend arrived.

She greeted him with a kiss on his cheek, her fingers easily tangling with his. Your stomach twisted. You forced yourself to look away. But not before you saw it. The way his jaw clenched. The way he swallowed hard, eyes flickering to you for a split second like something in him was struggling to keep up this lie.

Like he knew.

And that was when you realized this wasn’t just hurting you. It was hurting him too.

Minho sat at the usual table, the one the group always claimed at the bar, surrounded by the familiar noise of laughter and conversation. Yet, he couldn’t help but keep glancing at you.

You had finally come. After weeks of avoiding them, after weeks of his eyes searching for you in every room, you had shown up.

But something was different.

You greeted everyone with a polite smile, an effortless grace that should have put him at ease. Yet, Minho knew better. Your laughter didn’t reach your eyes, and the way you held yourself—careful, reserved— felt foreign.

And he despised it.

He wanted to hear you tease him again, wanted you to call him out when he rolled his eyes at a lame joke, wanted to see the real you, not this version of you that was only here out of obligation.

But the worst part? He couldn’t do anything about it.

So he sat in silence, he traced the rim of his glass before giving it a slow swirl as he kept watching you laugh at something Seungmin said. Watching as you avoided his gaze, even when his lingered on you longer than it should have.

Then, as if fate enjoyed twisting the knife, his girlfriend leaned over and intertwined her hand with his before kissing his knuckles. He should have been used to it— the soft affection, the warmth of someone who adored him. But his eyes flickered back to you, searching, waiting for something he wasn’t even sure he wanted to find.

But you weren’t looking at him at all this time. Throughout the night he felt the stolen glances, but now you were too busy laughing like genuinely laughing at something Seungmin said, your eyes shining with amusement, your hand resting lightly on Seungmin’s arm as you steadied yourself from laughter.

Minho’s stomach twisted, an unfamiliar heat crawling up his spine. It made no sense. Seungmin had always been playful, always quick with his wit, and you had always found him funny. But Minho had never felt this before, this tightness in his chest, this irrational urge to tear Seungmin away from you, to be the one who made you laugh like that instead.

He took a sip of his drink, trying to drown the feeling, but it only burned more.

He shouldn’t feel this way.

Not when he was sitting next to his girlfriend. Not when he had spent so long convincing himself that he had made the right choice.

************

Minho sat on the couch the next night, his girlfriend curled up beside him, head resting against his shoulder. The TV played some K-drama he wasn’t paying attention to, the voices blending into a meaningless hum. He had told himself over and over that this was where he belonged. That this was right.

She was the one he loved. But when he blinked, all he could see was the way your eyes had looked at him in that café. The quiet acceptance. The resignation. He also thought about the recent hangout and how you avoided him. Will you ever go back to being friends with him again?

His chest ached.

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to focus on the warmth of the girl beside him. This was the life he had built. The life he wanted.

So why did it feel like something inside him was breaking?

Before he even realized it, a single tear slipped down his cheek.

“Babe?” His girlfriend shifted beside him, concern lacing her voice. “Are you okay?”

Minho blinked, startled, reaching up to touch his cheek. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying.

He forced a smile. “Yeah. Just tired.”

She hummed in understanding, nuzzling into him, and he let her. He wanted to forget you. He needed to forget you.

But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the mark on your wrist. All he could hear was the sound of his own voice, breaking as he mentally started chanting—I love her. This girl right here. This is my choice.

Trying so desperately to make it true.

************

Few days later, he sat across from his girlfriend at dinner, poking at his food with no real appetite. She was quiet too. Not her usual chatty self.

Then, she sighed, setting her fork down. “Minho.”

Something about the way she said his name made his stomach twist.

“…Yeah?”

She hesitated, then, with a quiet sigh, she said, “I saw it.”

Minho froze.

His heart pounded in his chest. “Saw what?”

She looked down at his wrist. Then back at him.

“Your mark.”

Minho’s stomach twisted.

She swallowed, voice softer now. “I saw the same one on Y/N.”

He felt anxious, but he didn’t respond.

She sighed, looking down at her hands. “I’ve known for a while. I was just hoping… maybe we could fight it.”

Minho swallowed hard. “I love you.” The words came out strained, as if saying them would make them true again.

His girlfriend smiled sadly, “I know you do. And I love you, too. But Minho…” she exhaled shakily, “you don’t look at me the way you used to.”

Minho opened his mouth, ready to deny it, but the truth was sitting between them, impossible to ignore.

She reached out, placing a hand over his. “Don’t feel bad. You can't control fate.”

He looked up, eyes filled with guilt, “I feel like shit.”

“Don’t,” she whispered, “this isn’t your fault. Or mine. Or hers. This is just… how it is.” She hesitated before continuing. “I have a mark too, you know.”

His throat felt tight. He managed a slow nod.

“I always wished it matched yours.” She admitted, “Desperately. But it doesn’t.” She smiled, but it was a broken thing, “Since the beginning, we knew our soulmates were different. But we still tried to fight it.”

His chest ached. “I—” he swallowed, forcing himself to find the words, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

Her lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile, “I know,” she exhaled softly. “And I know how hard you were trying. But in reality, three people are hurting.”

Minho clenched his jaw, guilt coiling deep in his stomach. She had seen it all—his struggle, his hesitation, the way his gaze lingered on you even when he didn’t want it to.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

But she only shook her head, reaching across the table to place a hand over his. “It’s not your fault.”

He let out a slow breath, something in his chest unraveling.

“This… This isn’t easy for me either,” she admitted, fingers brushing over her mark absentmindedly. “But I think we both know this was inevitable.”

The words sank in, heavy with truth.

A part of him wanted to argue, to say that what they had mattered, that it wasn’t all for nothing. But another part—the one that kept remembering the look in your eyes that night in the kitchen, the one that replayed the way his heart twisted when you started avoiding him— knew.

It had never been about choosing. The choice had already been made for him, written on his skin before he even knew what love was.

Silence settled between them, heavy but accepting.

Minho let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “So… this is it?”

She nodded. “This is it.”

And just like that, it was over. No anger. No resentment. Just two people who had loved each other once but couldn’t fight destiny any longer.

But even after she walked away, Minho stayed sitting there, staring at the empty space where she had been.

And for the first time in months, he let himself fully feel it– the longing, the ache, the pull toward you. It had always been you.

************

Minho didn’t rush to you right away.

Even though he wanted to. Even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to run to you.

He owed it to himself and to his ex to sit with his emotions first.

The first few days felt strange, like he was floating between two versions of himself. He wasn’t grieving the breakup the way he thought he would. Instead, he was realizing how much he had been holding back, how much of himself he had forced into a shape that no longer fit.

He went through his daily routines, but everything felt different. His apartment felt too quiet. Group hangouts felt incomplete. And every night, as he lay awake staring at the ceiling, he thought of you.

************

Minho didn’t mean to end up here.

He had told himself he would give you time. That he would wait. But when he saw the storm clouds rolling in, when he heard the rain pounding against the pavement, something inside him snapped.

He didn’t think. He just ran.

Now, he stood in front of your door, drenched from head to toe, chest heaving.

He knocked once. Twice. Then he heard footsteps from inside.

When the door swung open, he finally saw you, your eyes wide with shock.

“Minho?” Your voice was hesitant, uncertain.

He had so much to say. So much to explain. But words failed him. He stepped forward, cupped your face between his freezing hands, and kissed you. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was months of longing, of restraint, of heartbreak, all poured into one desperate, soul-shattering kiss.

You gasped against his lips, momentarily frozen before reality snapped back into place. You pushed him away, breathless. “Minho, what the hell?”

His chest was rising and falling rapidly, rain dripping from his hair, but his eyes never wavered from yours.

“You have a girlfriend.” You said angrily, this was wrong.

He shook his head. “No, I broke up.”

Your lips parted slightly in surprise. “What?”

“I broke up with her last week.” His voice was rough, raw, as if the words had been sitting heavy on his tongue for days. “I needed time. I needed to be sure that this wasn’t just—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That this wasn’t just because of the mark. That it was you.”

He stepped closer, his forehead resting against yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I hated how much I missed you, it felt like a hole in my heart. Because I realized that no matter how hard I tried, it was always you.”

You stared at him, struggling to process his words, struggling to let yourself believe it.

Minho swallowed, taking a shaky breath. “I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know how to make up for everything. But I know I don’t want to fight this anymore.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“I just want you.”

Your fingers brushed over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. He wasn’t sure if it was his own heart racing or the sound of yours in his ears. You gently pulled away, putting a distance between you both. Tears pricked at your eyes.

You should have been angry. Should have questioned why it took him so long, why he had waited until now to choose you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Because everything you had ever wanted was right here. You waited your whole life for your soulmate.

You swallowed, trying to gather your thoughts. “So… what now?”

Minho exhaled, running a hand through his wet hair before looking at you with that intense gaze that always made you feel like the only person in the world. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I do know that I want to be with you. If you’ll have me.”

His vulnerability, his honesty— it broke you in the best way possible.

Your fingers twitched at your sides. Hesitation and longing battled in your chest.

“I don’t want to be a rebound, Minho,” you whispered. “I don’t want to be a second choice.”

His brows furrowed immediately. “You were never a second choice.”

You looked away. “Then why did you—”

“Because I was stupid,” he cut in, stepping closer, voice laced with regret. “I was so scared. I thought ignoring it would make it go away.” He let out a humorless laugh. “But it didn’t. It never did. And when I lost you… it felt like I lost a part of myself.”

Your breath caught.

“I should’ve known better. I should’ve fought for you from the start,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “But I’m here now, Y/N. And I swear, I’ll never let you feel like a second choice again.”

You could see it in his eyes, hear it in the tremble of his voice, feel it in the way he was standing in front of you like he would do anything to prove it. He meant every word.

Your resolve crumbled.

Slowly, cautiously, you took his hand and his fingers curled around yours immediately, like he had been waiting for this moment all his life.

“Okay,” you murmured. “But Minho… don’t break my heart.”

His grip tightened. “Never.”

And when he kissed you again, this time, it felt like home. Universe didn't let you down–

Minho was always meant to be yours.

-----------------

a/n: there will be an extra part featuring a sweet and fluffy moment between our couple because, after all that emotional turmoil, they deserve some happiness!

Taglist:

@kaiyaba @lov3rachan @pixie-felix @ellemir2404 @willowhanji @skzimagines @wavetohannie @jamroses @vietjeb @kayleefriedchicken @kokinu09 @nightmarenyxx @my-neurodivergent-world

Part 2 Taglist: @annovaz @lailac13 @thepoeticpurplepotato

[satellite-evans]

told you so

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: it's your turn to take care of lando <3

Word count: 1.2k+

Warnings: fluff, lando is sick

A/N:

this is a part 2 for lovesick, but can be read individually, happy reading xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It started three days after you started feeling better.

You’d just gotten over the flu—a brutal week of hacking coughs, relentless fevers, and being completely wiped out while Lando stepped into full-time caretaker mode. He’d fluffed your pillows, ordered weirdly specific soup combinations (chicken noodle with a side of toast and a single gherkin, why?), and insisted on playing your favorite comfort movies even when he dozed off halfway through them.

Every day, without fail, in between sneezes and sips of hot tea, you’d warned him like a broken record: “Don’t kiss me, you’ll get sick. Seriously, Lando. I’m a walking biohazard.” And every day, like clockwork, he’d give you that crooked smile that made your heart do stupid things and lean down anyway, pressing a kiss to your lips like he was immune to common sense.

“Worth it,” he’d say, all cocky and smug, even as you scowled at him.

Now, three days after your fever broke and you were finally starting to feel like a functioning human again, Lando was sprawled across the couch like a Victorian widow in mourning. A pile of blankets engulfed him like a nest, only the top of his curls and the tip of his red nose visible.

“Baaaabe,” he croaked, voice hoarse and pathetic, as if he'd swallowed gravel and regret. “I think this is it. Tell McLaren I love them. Tell Oscar to win for me.”

You leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and unimpressed. “You have the flu. The same flu I had. The one I explicitly told you not to kiss me during.”

Lando peeked out from under the blanket fort with glassy, betrayed eyes. “You kissed me back! That makes it a mutual decision! This was a joint operation.”

You let out a long sigh and walked over, pressing the back of your hand gently to his forehead. Sure enough, it was burning up.

“Yeah, well. Congratulations, genius. You’ve got a fever.”

“I knew it,” he groaned, flopping dramatically like his soul was leaving his body. “My organs are shutting down. I can feel it. This is the end. Cold, miserable, and betrayed… by the love of my life.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, even as you shook your head. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I need soup,” he sniffled pitifully, burrowing deeper into the mound of fleece and flannel. “And cuddles. And maybe a foot massage. And definitely another blanket. Possibly two.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Anything else, Your Majesty?”

“An eulogy,” he replied weakly. “Something tasteful. Maybe mention that I was brave and beautiful, taken too soon…”

You turned on your heel, heading toward the kitchen with an eye roll so powerful it could’ve shifted tectonic plates. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Norris.”

His voice trailed after you, small and pathetic. “I’m dying! Is this how you treat your dying boyfriend? Where’s the Florence Nightingale energy?”

“Florence didn’t have to deal with whiny F1 drivers,” you called back. “Count yourself lucky I’m making you soup and not letting you waste away on the pit lane.”

“Wait, do we have ginger tea? I read online that’s good for the immune system. And maybe some honey? Or lemon? Or both? And a warm compress for my eyes, I think I saw one on TikTok—”

“Oh my God, Lando.”

“—and maybe like... one of those heated plushies. You know the ones? That look like cats but smell like lavender?”

You grabbed the kettle and let it boil as his voice carried on from the living room, dramatic and ever-demanding, while you secretly smiled to yourself. He was miserable, yes—but so were you, just a few days ago. And just like he’d cared for you, now it was your turn to return the favor.

With soup, cuddles, and maybe, just maybe, one of those lavender-scented cat plushies.

Ten minutes later, you returned with a tray balanced carefully in your hands—a steaming bowl of homemade soup (the good kind, not the sad instant packet), a cold compress folded just right, and a bottle of flu medicine with the dosage already measured out. You’d even grabbed a spoon that didn’t clank annoyingly against the bowl, because yes, you were that considerate. The tray clinked softly as you set it on the coffee table, the smell of garlic and herbs immediately cutting through the stuffy air of the living room.

Lando stirred beneath his fortress of blankets, blinking up at you like a very sad, very sick kitten.

Without a word, you began rearranging the pillows behind him—fluffing one, stacking another for support, gently nudging him upright with a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit up. Time to eat.”

He sniffled pitifully and looked at you with the most dramatic pout you’d seen all week. “Will you feed me? I’m too weak. My arms don’t work anymore. I think they’ve stopped functioning.”

You gave him a flat look that screamed seriously?, but the sight of his flushed cheeks, red nose, and those glassy, pleading eyes—ugh. Damn him and his boyish charm.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh, picking up the spoon. “But if you fake gag for sympathy, I’m pouring this soup right on your hoodie.”

“You wound me,” he gasped, clutching his chest like a scandalized Victorian noble. “My Florence Nightingale turned cold-hearted nurse. Where is the compassion?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop, gently blowing on each spoonful before guiding it to his lips. He opened his mouth obediently, chewing slowly, and making these over-exaggerated “mmm” sounds like he was in a food commercial.

You let him have his moment.

Every now and then, your fingers would drift to his curls, brushing them back from his sweaty forehead, or you’d adjust the blanket when it started to slip from his shoulder. And each time, he leaned into your touch like it was the only thing grounding him. Dramatic as he was, you knew the truth—he just wanted to be taken care of the same way he had taken care of you. With quiet patience, and a lot of love.

And honestly? You didn’t mind at all. Even if he had brought this on himself.

After the soup and a reluctant but necessary dose of flu meds, Lando let out a long, theatrical sigh like he’d just completed a marathon. He sank back into the couch, curling up with his head in your lap, one arm loosely around your waist as if anchoring himself there. He sniffled again, softer this time, like a puppy trying not to be too obvious about how much it needed cuddles.

You smiled, running your fingers gently through his messy curls, letting the silence stretch between you for a moment before speaking.

“Next time,” you murmured, voice low and warm, “you’re actually going to listen when I say no kissing the plague-ridden girlfriend.”

Lando didn’t open his eyes, just smiled faintly against your thigh. “Next time… I’m still gonna kiss you.”

You sighed, part exasperation, part affection. “You’re impossible.”

“Worth it,” he breathed, already drifting into sleep.

You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, lingering there for a second longer than you meant to. “Idiot,” you whispered.

He didn’t reply. His breathing had already evened out, the medicine kicking in, the warmth of your lap and the quiet room lulling him into sleep. But even in rest, the corners of his mouth were still tilted up in the faintest smile.

You shook your head and smiled, adjusting the blanket over him once more.

Yeah. He was definitely worth it.

[deathbxnny]

Arcane women cheating on their s/o and getting caught. | Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Part 2)

So I'm writing this whilst extremely sick, but the idea just wouldn't leave my mind, so I'm sorry if this sucks... also, you're welcome in advance!<3

Content: TW!Cheating, angst, hurt/no comfort, swearing, some violence? Idk, just chaos, probably ooc, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

In hindsight, you should have known better than to think that she'd be yours forever. When you were children under Vander's care, she had promised you that she'd be yours for life. It was naive, and deep down, you knew that it wouldn't last. Especially when she was able to leave prison with the help of that Enforcer.

You weren't blind to how close they were when Vi came to visit you weeks after her release, claiming to have an important mission with the blue haired woman she had to finish first. But things fell into place again with her, and you pushed those thoughts aside from the joy of having your girlfriend back... until the denial finally caught up to you months later, when you were asked to go on a mission with her and Caitlyn to catch Jinx once and for all. You refused at first, unwilling to be the cause of more pain in Zaun, yet Vi couldn't see how wrong it was.

She followed the Kirammann near blindly even when she should've known better, and that hurt. You ultimately just joined because she practically made you to and didn't leave you much of a choice. The jealousy was, however, unbearable, yet Vi just called you dramatic in response.

It was no big deal anyway. Her and Caitlyn were just partners in this mission, you know? It's really not that big of a deal. They are just very good friends at best. Can't she have friends, or are you that controlling now? The lies finally came to the surface when you trailed after them secretly whilst Vi asked for a private moment alone. It felt wrong and invasive at first, but what you saw was a lot worse than the guilt. Caitlyn leaned forward to kiss Vi on the lips, and a perhaps foolish part of you hoped that your girlfriend would push her away to tell her off. Yet she didn't do that. Instead, she dropped her gauntlets and melted into the Piltovans embrace fully, as though your relationship didn't matter. And maybe it never did to her.

You let out a shaky sigh, doing your best not to absolutely freak out in the face of absolute doom. Everything suddenly felt so tense and suffocating, your body trembling in horror. You should've listened to your gut feeling months ago. But love blinded you. It really did. You couldn't look away either, your broken heart pounding against your ribcage wildly when it finally dawned on you that you were an idiot this whole time. Everyone must've caught on except for you, and yet you had the hope that she'd never do this to you. Not your Vi. Never your Vi. Prison must've changed her more than you thought.

Unable to breathe and completely devastated, you attempted to step back and flee. You didn't even want to bother and yell at her when she didn't even deserve your time anymore. But alas, fate had different ideas, as you knocked over an empty can that made both women part in surprise. Vi's eyes immideatly met yours, a shocked look on her face as though you were the one that betrayed her. "Oh fuck... wait, I can explain, I, we-" "-Vander would be disappointed in you, Violet." You said, unable to stop the painful words from slipping out of your lips. Her feelings would never be protected by you again anyway. You've wasted years of your life waiting for her and caring for her when she finally got out. You never complained, and you bit your tongue every time she did something that you disliked. But it was all for nothing.

Vi was left speechless at your words that awoke a deep insecurity she had attempted to hide for so long. Imagining Vander's disgusted and disapproving face didn't help. Pushing Caitlyn out of the way, she tried approaching you carefully, afraid to lose you. You were the last thing she had left. "Please babe, it's... that was... Fuck just let me explain." But there was nothing she could say to make you forget what you saw. And you sure as hell weren't going to stay with a cheater. Vander taught you to know your worth, and you wouldn't let him down like that.

So when Vi was close enough, you slapped her right across the face, making her stumble. How could such an innocent gaze do the worst things? You had to get out of here before your hands stained the blood of your own people, too. "Cupcake wait -" "-Our people are dying at her hands, whether you like to see it or not. And I refuse to be a traitor either." Not bothering to hear what else she had to say, you simply left and never looked back.

Forever truly is never promised.

》CAITLYN

She has grown distant to you ever since her mother's death. Something you understood and supported by allowing her space to grief. You did everything for her to have a comfortable transition into this uncertain future, hoping it would ease the pain ever so slightly. But things aren't that easy. Her rage was brewing and overflowing into an irrational hatred for all Zaunites due to who had killed her. You may have never met Jinx, but even you understood that not everyone down there was like this. They didn't deserve the anger.

Yet Caitlyn couldn't see it your way and refused to, which led to many arguments and eventually a separation for the time being. Your heart was hurting, and you couldn't recognize the woman she had become. But of course, you were the crazy one. The Traitor, who empathized with those "animals", a word you were still in disbelief in to hear from her of all people, considering her late mother's ambitions. Ambitions that she stepped all over after she used her vents for an unforgivable plan that gassed the entire undercity with "the grey". You couldn't believe it. It left you to sit at Cassandra's grave frozen and bewildered for hours on end, guilty about being unable to do anything.

But just as you thought she couldn't get any worse, she had to prove you wrong like always.

On a moonlight night, you made your way through her estate in search of the last of your belongings. You weren't going to stay in Piltover any longer after she became the commander. Not being able to stand what she now was, you took it upon yourself to leave as silently as possible. Perhaps get back at her for hurting you, as selfish as it may have been to you at first. Yet the guilt melted away when you creaked open the door to her room, a room you often secretly shared. You didn't think she was home around this hour, as you hoped she was too busy to be there yet. But alas, there she was, with a familiar red-headed officer of hers. The one you couldn't stand at first sight, as you felt like there was something off about her.

You were right about that, at least. You couldn't make out everything, but their scandly clad figures moving around the bed was enough to paint a picture you wished to forget. Oh, how the rage took ahold of you in that moment! For a split second, you finally understood how she must've felt like. And god did you hate it.

Unwilling to let this ruin the reason you've come here to begin with, you unceremoniously switched the lights back on and casually began to grab your things off the shelves and vanity. Caitlyn jumped up in surprise when she finally could see again and saw you standing there, back facing her. She was speechless, and so was the sly officer below her. Although the smirk was easy to hide behind a covered mouth. "Don't mind me. Just here to get the last of my belongings." You said, voice shockingly steady. Despite the shocking situation, you felt calm and undeterred, finally done with her at last. "W-wait, this isn't what it looks like, love. This means nothing, I-" "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. No need for it when my skyship is leaving soon." You turned to glance at her and felt a sick satisfaction at her horror striken face. She certainly never expected you to catch her, and you certainly never expected her to sink so low.

Stumbling out of the bed and after you, as you exited the room, she ignored Maddie's hushed pleas to stay. "Come on, wait and allow me to explain, at least! I... Things have been hard lately -" You walked quicker now, not wanting to hear what she had to say. But she just wouldn't let you go. "- And, and you weren't around and I..." "Are you done? I wasn't around because you didn't want me to. Now let me leave at once, or I will scream and alert everyone in this building of what you're doing." Caitlyn stood still at the top of the grand staircase that you practically ran down. Before you slipped through the doors, however, you turned to her one last time, tears finally burning in your eyes so treacherously.

"Your mother died in vain, hoping from the heaven's above that her daughter would be worth the Kirammann name... and yet, all she does is roll in her grave at your actions. Oh, the shame." You hissed out before slamming the doors shut and never looking back.

》SEVIKA

Sevika was well known for her loyalty to those who deserve it. It was unrelenting and filled with unparalleled devotion, especially to you. Or so you thought.

Looking back on it, you wondered when the first red flags started appearing. Was it when she ditched Vander for Silco? Or when she spent endless nice "gambling" in some downtown bars instead of hanging out with you? Or was it maybe when she would only come back home extremely late into the night... or days later, sometimes.

There was always a new excuse, too.

She had a lot to do. Missions are piling up. Some random drug dealers weren't handing over the money they owed to Silco. Enforcers were causing some trouble. The Firelights were causing some trouble. She got too drunk and had to crash somewhere closer to the bar. Jinx blew something up again, and she had to fix it. Silco had her running all over Zaun collecting debts. Blah, blah, blah... the creativity was never-ending, and you were beginning to get beyond enraged about it.

You weren't stupid after all. It didn't take much to figure out that she was lying most of the time, and it was clear that she didn't care if you knew either. It was all very half-assed, to say the least. And the people that you asked for confirmation would always roll their eyes, knowing just as much as you did that it was bullshit and she was definitely doing something she shouldn't. Like getting drunk to the point she couldn't remember where home is. Metaphorically and literally. But what got you the most is how blatant and in your face it was.

The question as to why she was doing this now after years of being together is one you'll most likely never get an answer to. And you've made peace with that a while ago. Revenge was, however, still very much on the table, and you'd be damned if you didn't get an ounce of it.

With some bribery, Jinx was thankfully very willing to rat out Sevika, going as far as to even happily lead you to her. She wanted to see the world burn and knew that you weren't the type to let people get away with hurting you. And so, she leaned back with the sweets she acquired through you and watched as you casually loomed behind her in some run-down brothel. She apparently really loved frequenting this one, according to the crazed girl, something that made you scoff. She'd trade you in for THIS? Now that's an insult. The brothel workers nervously scooched away from her at the sight of your face. You two being a couple was well known, but you didn't blame the girls for doing their job. A bag is a bag, and you're about to have Sevika's head in one.

Grabbing a nearby bottle of wine, you practically smashed it over her head, knowing that it would do little to hurt her. "What the Fuck?!" She cursed, immideatly standing up to bash someone's face in. Yet after being met with your unimpressed look, she froze. "Hm? What is it? Not having fun anymore? Because I certainly am." The brothel workers quickly fled, leaving you alone. In the distance, you could hear Jinx's cackles. At least someone was actually finding this amusing. "... Ah... Hey, sweetheart... I uh..." "Call me that again, and I'll gouge your eyes out next. Years and years of loyalty to your miserable ass and this is what I get, Sevika? Have I really gotten that boring to you?" You hissed out, trying your best not to burst into tears.

You've been with this woman for so long through absolutely everything imaginable. But it wasn't enough for her. She had changed over the years into someone you hated, and you couldn't believe you were willing to waste so much more time with her. Not anymore, though. Suddenly feeling so suffocated in this stuffy room, you rolled your eyes and threw what was left of the broken bottle right at her speechless form before turning and leaving. "You know what? I don't care anymore. Go and find someone else who will in this hellscape because I promise you that you won't."

Stepping out into the dim lanes of Zaun, you felt more free than ever before as you ducked into the darkness for good. She'll never see you again, and you'll be sure of it, as you listened to her calls for your name getting further and further away.

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 12

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

You and Silas stared at each other.

"What do you mean "okay"?"

You nod. "Okay, I'll marry you."

He looked at you suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"That is not an answer." He frowned, making you sigh as you turned your body to face him completely. "Look, you're going to pay me anyways right?" He nodded. "So, I need the money, and well... lets just say I have nothing else left to lose. Maybe I'm just bored."

Bored? More like pissed at the universe and I will not let it beat me to the ground anymore. I wont go out without causing chaos and maybe if someone tries to kill me again, I will perhaps consider disrupting the historical timeline to make the universe itself combust and unravel. If I'm suffering, I'm taking the universe along!

Silas gave you an incredulous look, before shrugging in defeat. "Very well, then."

"Wait-" You stop him from getting up. "Why did you choose me? Actually, why do you need a wife?"

He rolled his eyes, standing up, you following along. "Come on, Silas. Tell me. Is it cause I'm pretty? Smart-"

"You dressed as a man."

What?

"What?"

He looked down at you. "What? You didnt think I'd spot you in that poor disguise at the newspaper office that day?"

Silas saw me that day? He recognised me?

"How did you even-" He scoffed. "I'm intelligent. And I have eyes. I notice everyone and everything." He turned around and began walking away.

"Wait!" You ran after him. "That still doesnt answer my question! You're marrying me because I dressed like a man? What- you're attracted by that-"

"Stop talking." Silas cut you off abruptly. "I chose you because you work at the newspaper, not because you're a man."

"Oh. So you need someone to write out articles singing your praises?Cant you just pay someone to do that?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I dont need someone to sing my praises. I need you to be the mole there. I want you to report everything that happens at the paper, specifically about the murders thats been on going these days."

Murders? Murders-

"The White Chapel murders?" He nodded. "I need the papers to focus on them, not on me or who I am marrying. I need them to put the pressure on the cops to catch that sick bastard! Not idolise him with that stupid alias-"

"Jack the Ripper." You finish for him. He breathes heavily, anger radiating off him. "Yes, that. Because its only causing people to either admire him for killing off those prostitutes or fear him, letting the idea of them terrorise them!"

"I see. But... why do you need to get married to me for that? I mean, if you pay me, I could just report to you everything from there, including his letters."

Silas looked at you in slight annoyance, as if mad that you couldnt figure out his motives.

"The papers are focusing on me and my marriage. If I get married, the news will only run for a week or two before diverting their attention to the papers. And before you ask why I'm marrying you specifically instead of someone much better suited to my tastes-" okay, not gonna take that insult to heart. "- I told you, you work at the paper, which means you'll report everything to me. And if I were to marry someone more influential, the papers will continue to write about us for longer. But you? You're a nobody- believe me, I checked. You have no family, dont come from nobility, so no one will talk about you. "

Great. "Wow, you do know how to flatter a woman."

Silas smirked. "Trust me, "a woman" would be flattered-" You shot him a glare before he could finish off his joke.

-

Silas and you got married later that night. He arranged an out-of-town priest, some official documents, and two witnesses for the vows, which were his butler Cadbury and his wife, Erin, who acted as the best man and maid-of-honor. It was obvious that Silas wanted to keep this ceremony a secret, and he told you that the time will come to break the news.

When the priest asked him to kiss you, SIias pulled a face and said to skip over that part because you had bad breath. You did not. Jerk.

But you were glad you didnt had to kiss him, so you didnt bother kicking his shin. Maybe nearly dying so many times has made you grow a pair, or maybe its the fact that you dont actually consider this a real marriage because a Nikkah (an Islamic wedding) ceremony did not happen, so technically, you're still single, but you're surprised at how... calmly you've come to terms with everything.

Silas let you go back to you house, because the marriage was the still a secret so there's no use keeping you around at his place. Besides, he needs you to continue working on the murders.

Honestly, you do kind of want to find out who Jack the Ripper is. Any historian worth his salt, dreams of this very opportunity you've been given- to find out the man behind all the horrendous, gut wrenching murders.

Colin watched you get up from your desk and go to the corner office where Will was working on the murders. Poor Will. Colin pitied the lad- he had to deal with the gruesome details of the murders, write out the articles in details that are just pallatable enough for the readers, only to be rejected by the editor who wanted the front page news to be about Silas FitzGeorge.

What were you doing there? Colin didnt think it was best for you to go in there, after the depressing weeks you'd barely pulled yourself through. Grisly details of a killing spree might not be what you need at the moment.

"Hey Will!" You walk in his office, changing your voice to that of a man.

"Holmes." He acknowledged you briefly, his hair a mess as well his desk. If anyone knew how giddy you were everytime someone in the office called you Sherlock Holmes, you'd be labelled a loser for sure.

"Still working on those murders, eh?" You walk closer to his desk. "Any leads on who the mystery man might be?"

"No." He glared at you. "I would, if the coppers were to do their job and the editor published my work, but noooo. God forbid we miss any details on that FitzGeorge fella and his tragic life. Cry me a fucking river-" Ah, a fellow Silas hater. You can work with that.

"Let me help you." You offer him. Will raises his brow, before scoffing. "Unless you can somehow have the editor publish my articles, I dont think you can help me. Besides, I dont need an amateur disturbing me because he's just wants to see a dead body."

Amateur? Pfft, I'll have you know I was a minor celebrity on Wattpad at just age 11 when I wrote Sherlock Holmes fanfics-

"How about this? If I can convince the editor to post your work, will you let me help?"

Will stares at you, studying you for a moment.

"Fine."

You walk out of his office and go to your desk where Colin is already waiting for you.

"Hey, Colin." You greet him, sitting down as you pull a blank sheet of paper from your drawer and start writing on it.

"Hey... Sherlock. What were you doing in-" He leans down to read what you're writing. "Jack The Ripper- why are you writing about him?"

You shrug. "Why not? He's an important figure to talk about and needs to be caught. If the papers bring enough attention to him, it'll put pressure on the authorities to work harder to catch him."

"I get that, but- I mean, you already have the FitzGeorges to write about and what about other douches in high society?" Colin tried to persuade you.

"I'll write about them too, in fact. Dont worry about it. I'm going to bring you some real dirt soon." You tell him before picking up the pen again, but Colin grasps your wrist, stopping you.

"Y/n, I just dont think that you should be working on this right now-"

"Colin." You cut him off, freeing your wrist. "I'm grateful for your concern for my well being, but I assure you- I am not made of glass. I can handle my business. Besides, this is something that has intrigued me. Let me work on it, please." You say before returning to writing down your points on the homicidal maniac.

-

After work, you changed out of your disguise and went to the antique store on Regent street, or what was left of it.

You knew there was no chance, but something inside you hoped that your time machine had survived.

The store was burnt down, and since the interior was mainly made of wood, most of the antiques had burnt to ashes or at least, damaged beyond repair and could not be sold.

You stood outside the ruins off the store, the property was sealed off and guards stood outside it, not letting you in.

"Please, I just need to-"

"Like I said, miss. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in." The guard cut you off, annoyed by your insistence.

Before you could argue again, someone walked up behind you.

"Y/n." Henry looked at you. He was dressed well, his hair combed and face shaved, well kept as he usually was but his eyes.... he had bags under his eyes. Like he hadnt slept in days.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, um- I just wanted to see if my stuff is still there."

He nodded at his guards to step aside, leading you inside the shop.

"Look around. See if you can find it." Henry's tone was flat, as if he already knew.

Still, you looked around. You searched the whole place, not even finding the remains off your machine. And how could you? It was made of mostly plastic and very cheap metal, its not like you had funds to make it indestructible.

Or incombustible.

"Satisfied?" He asked you when you finally stopped looking for it.

You huff. "If you'd just given it to me before-"

"Y/n." He cut you off. "I lost my store. I lost my employee who was working in here, who was blasted to pieces. I lost more money than you can ever imagine and you have the nerve to stand there and try to blame it on me? After I'd given you the courtesy to look through my property to put your mind to ease?"

He admonished you, all while barely letting his rage slip through his voice. He was holding back from blowing up on you, but it did not help because you still felt small.

Because he is right. He lost an employee. He lost money. He lost too, and yet you have the audacity to complain to him like he was somehow at fault.

And he wasnt. Its not like he bombed his store.

"Do you know who did it?" You ask, diverting your eyes to avoid his piercing gaze.

"No one "did" it. It was an accident." Henry looked at the floorboard. "Apparently, there was gunpowder in some of the artefacts that came from China that day. The employee probably didnt check it when he put it on the table, next to a candle. Then one got lit up and it set off all the others, blowing up the whole store."

That... sounds like a big coincidence.

"Henry, are you sure someone wasnt behind this-"

"Y/n, I dont have time to entertain your wild theories right now. I have to deal with insurance and other things. Please leave." He cut you off abruptly.

Without giving him another moment to bruise your self esteem, you stormed out of his store. By the time you reached home, it was dark, which wasnt the best idea with a murderer on the loose- as the boys made it clear.

"Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! Have you seen the crime scenes?!" Liam yelled at you.

"No. But its not like I'm a prostitute, so he wont hurt me." You answer from your seat between Benjamin's legs, who insisted on brushing the knots out of your hair and placing some essential oils in your hair.

Liam looked at you like you'd grown two heads. "How would he know that?!"

You leaned forward, frowning. "Okay if you're saying that you cant the difference between a prostitute and me, then thats just insulting to me and to you as a police officer!"

Shepherd suppressed a chuckle as he handed a drink to Liam to calm him down. As they continued to joke around, you mind went to your time machine.

Sure, you could try making it from scratch again. It'll be difficult, and not just because there isnt enough technology to make the whole thing by yourself, but also because the mere idea of building a time machine could have you lobotomised.

So yes, one of the reasons why you agreed to marry Silas was because of his money that would not only let you buy expensive raw materials but also allow you to have a space to make the machine in secret.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Colin left to see who it was, returning moments later with a huge box in his hand.

"Its for you." He set the box down and handed you the letter that came with it. You read the letter while the boys opened the box-

"Tomorrow. 7:30 pm sharp.

Dont be late, missus."

The "missus" part gave away that it was from Silas. What was he planning? Were you supposed to go to his place or was he going to pick you up? What was going to happen tomorrow?

"Woah! Who is this from?" Shepherd asked as he looked at the fancy dress in the box. He pulled it out of the box, the gown flowing down effortlessly. "It looks expensive- this is expensive, right? Its expensive." He stated before repeating his question to you. "Who is it from, Y/n?"

You folded the letter as you saw them all looking at you. "I... I might have a date-"

"With who?" Benjamin asked sharply.

"I-" You sigh. "I'll let you know after the date. Lets see how it goes first."

"Oh, come on! Just tell us!" Liam probed, but you took the dress from him, putting it back in the box and taking it to your room, not noticing how silent Colin had went.

-

You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection while Ben did your hair. Wearing the black velvet gown that had a white blouse and long skirt underneath, puffy regency era sleeves and a belt at the bust, you looked elegant.

Seeing as you had no jewellery to pair the outfit with, Ben styled your hair down, curling the locks and putting a dainty black silk bow on the back, trimming the front of your hair so that they framed your face.

"There's a carriage waiting for you!" Shepherd informed you before going back to gushing about the rich fella you'd managed to bag.

You turned around for Ben for the finishing touches. He smiled softly at you, taking your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

"Dont force yourself to do anything you're not comfortable with, hm? Just because he gave you this dress doesnt mean he can do anything he wishes." You nodded, returning his smile. "And remember, you have me and the boys to beat anyone who upsets you, Y/n." He winked making you giggle.

Standing outside the carriage, you looked up and waved to the 3 boys standing in the window before getting inside.

"Ah, I hope she knows how to use that knife I gave her." Liam mumbled, making Shepherd yell at him.

"You gave her a knife?!"

"What? She needs to protect herself when there's a murderer on the lose-"

As the two continued to bicker, Benjamin went to his room and packed some scissors and razors in a small bag, before leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Colin asked, finally speaking for the first time that evening. Sitting on the sofa chair, he'd been nursing on a drink the entire time you were getting ready for your drink. He kept quiet, pretending to be to engrossed with reading the paper to notice you getting dressed for your date night.

"I... have a client." Ben said, putting on his top hat and leather gloves before wearing his coat.

"This late?" Colin raised a brow.

Ben gave a nod.

"He... he needs a haircut urgently."

Colin stared at him before sighing, picking up his drink.

"Alright. Be careful. Its foggy out there."

-

Sitting inside the carriage alone, you wondered where the buttler was taking you. Since Silas isnt here with you, then its likely that you're being taken to him at the FitzGeorge estate.

You take a deep breath, fiddling with the velvet of your dress. So tonight will be the night he announces his marriage to you. Or maybe not. I mean, if he did plan on doing that then perhaps he'd be giving you some pointers on how to win over his family? To get their approval? It was a big thing for high society, if not for someone who is loosely attached to royalty.

Maybe thats why he called you over tonight. To soft launch you to his family, something like- "hey, this is Y/n, a girl I fancy. I think she might be the one." so that it seems a lot more believable when he does introduce himself as your husband, probably a few weeks or a month from now.

Yes. Silas doesnt seem like the type to just spring up the union on his family out of nowhere. He is English, he is noble, he wouldnt be one to cause a scene.

The carriage stopped after sometime, and you could hear people chattering outside. Your door suddenly opened, but before you could step out, someone stepped in.

It was Silas.

He sat across from you, wearing a formal dress black suit, his hair styled properly. If your dressing didnt give it away, then his did- it was definitely a black-tie event.

He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, looking you up and down.

"Here, wear this." He handed you a velvet lined box. Opening it, you saw a beautiful pearl necklace and matching tear drop earrings.

"Oh, this is... beautiful." You said in awe. "You could've sent this along with the dress, I would've worn my hair differently-"

"No, I didnt want to risk you running off with it." Silas casually insulted you as he began opening the door. "Wear this and dont talk to me or approach me in there."

"Wait, what?" You looked at him confusion.

Silas huffed in irritation. "I'm going to go back inside. You'll walk in after five minutes, and when you do, you will not talk to me, or approach me or do anything that gives away that you know me."

"Silas-" But he left before you could question what he was on about.

So... he wasnt planning on announcing his marriage to you tonight? Wearing the jewellery, you followed his instructions and exited the carriage exactly five minutes later.

But instead of seeing the FitzGeorge house, you were standing in front of a... palace.

A palace you're seen quite a few times.

Buckingham palace.

"What am I...?" You whispered to yourself before composing yourself as other guests began walking past you.

As you ascended the stairs to the entrance where guards stood, you wondered if they'd let you in. Surely, without Silas by your side or an official invitation, they wouldnt let you in. You watched a few guests holding an envelope with a royal seal, an invitation they showed to the guards before being let in.

Heart pounding as you feared the embarrassment you're about to face, you reached the guards who looked at you for a few moments, trying to recognise you before their eyes fell on your necklace and they let you pass.

Ah, so thats why he gave you the jewellery. If you looked like you belonged there, then you probably did.

Why am I here though?

You looked around and saw many people inside, all belonging from high society. This definitely wasnt the place where Silas was going to announce his marriage. So why did he invite you here?

Maybe he wants me to use this as an opportunity to get dirt on high society?

Yes, perhaps, but how would this serve him? Is there a specific person he wants me to get dirt on? Someone I need to write about in the papers?

Silas, what game are you playing?

You spotted him standing in the corner, talking with his cousins and uncles, though you noticed many girls looking at him. Of course, he still is the "most eligible bachelor" to them. If they knew how rude he was, maybe they'd change their opinion.

Walking through the crowd, you began listening on conversations, trying to pick up on interesting bits. It was the usual obnoxious bragging about their wealth, some scandals here and there, disturbing comments about women, etc. Nothing particularly interesting.

Fortunately, you werent bored for long as the royal butler announced the arrival of the hosts. It hadnt truly hit you where you were standing until you heard her name-

"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria-"

Queen Victoria. The Queen Victoria.

You could feel goosebumps raising on your skin, your eyes widening as you realised you're looking at one of the most iconic figures in history. Alive. She's alive and she's walking right in front of you-

She's short. They were right about that. Standing next to her husband, Prince Albert, she looked even shorter. But she looked incredibly happy, full of youth as she stood next to him, unlike all the paintings who depicted her as this angry old widow.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

Her children stood behind her in order, all smiling at their mother. Her daughters, you recognised them all, looked just as beautiful. You recognised her eldest, Edward VII, a 20-something old boy who would end up being hated by his mother and blamed for his father's death. He looked nervous, standing beside her and you could see he was just itching to leave her side and avoid any more scrutiny.

The Queen began speaking.

"Thank you everyone for joining us on this pleasent occasion." She looked around. "Tonight, we are going to welcome a member to our family, even though he has always been a part of us. But now, we will make things official."

"Silas FitzGeorge." She called suddenly. You saw Silas step forward in front of the queen, bowing his head curtly before looking at her confidently.

"You're my cousin Georgie's grandson, and I have no doubt when I say that if he were here tonight, he'd be just as proud of the young man you've become as I am. Our families may have had some issues in the past, but I have always accepted you as a part of me. Over the years, you've only proven me right with how capable you've become on your own, without seeking a helping hand in your adversities. You have made us all immensely proud, as well as your predecessors for being the first man in our family to attend Oxford university. Watching you start businesses and expand your empire, I have no doubt that you will only continue to make the royal family and Britian proud. Therefore, I would like to offer my support and make good on my promise that I made to you when you were a child."

She turned around and a servant handed her a document.

"I hereby make Silas FitzGeorge, the Duke of Westminster."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh-

This was Silas's dukedom ceremony. Why is this a huge deal? Because his grandfather, Prince George was once estranged from the royal family and stripped off his royal duties and benefits when he married Sarah Fairbrother, which meant their descendents were all illegitimate and not recognised by the crown.

But tonight, with Silas becoming a duke, its like a welcome back to the family. That too, by the same woman who had in essence- ostracised his family.

And with Dukedom comes other benefits, money, property, influence. Not to mention that Silas has become the duke of Westminster, as in THE WESTMINSTER! One of the wealthiest dukedoms to get, and also where Westminster palace is, the place which is the meeting place for the Parliament of United Kingdom. It'll allows Silas to have a say and play around with politics.

This is a huge gesture by the queen, and if Silas wasnt the most eligible bachelor before, then he definitely is one.

You watched the queen sign the documents first, before giving it to Silas who signed it. Everyone cheered and clapped for the young duke before stopping as Victoria began speaking again.

"Now, I would like to share more good news." She smiled at Silas, who stood beside her now. "I would like to announce the new duke's betrothal to my daughter, Helena."

What?

The guests clapped again as you saw Silas looking ahead, purposely avoiding your gaze. The queen beamed as she looked back at Helena, who was blushing.

So this is why Silas didnt want you to talking to him. He knew he was going to marry Helena, and he didnt want anyone to even doubt that he's associated with you in any way. Is this his way of telling you that the sham marriage between you two has ended?

Victoria encouraged Silas to say a few words.

Silas looked down briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Oh, wow. I am grateful that her majesty has awarded me dukedom. I dont have enough words to express how thankful I am to you." He looked up and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. "However, I was only informed of this ceremony and not of my betrothal beforehand."

The queen's head snapped in his direction, as did all of the royals, but Silas continued speaking unfazed.

"I wish I had been told about this earlier to avoid this awkward situation uhhh..." he chuckled nervously, but you could see he was anything but nervous. "I am honoured to be even considered for the princess's hand, your majesty, but I'm afraid I am already married." He announced, looking straight at you.

The hall interrupted into gasps and whispers before they parted the way to let Silas make his walk to you.

With a charming smile, a dimple on his left cheek, he approached you, pulling you into his arms as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"Hi, sweetheart." He whispered loud enough for the onlookers to hear. Your eyes widened, your face flushed at the feeling of everyone's eyes and at his word.

"Si-" The words died down your throat as he placed an arm around your back and pulled you close to his side, showing you off.

"This is Y/n, my darling wife."

With Silas's announcement, the hall went silent once again. Your throat went dry at being put in the spotlight, and your eyes flickered from one guest to another, until finally falling on the queen's, who looked... pissed.

Finally, it was Prince Albert who broke the silence and announced dinner had been served. As the guests began walking out of the hall, Silas lead you out of the palace and to the carriage where his grandmother was waiting for you.

"Go home, now. I'll see you soon." Was all Silas said to you before whispering something to his grandmother, who beamed and nodded, patting his cheek.

"Come on, Y/n. Its getting late, now." Sarah said as she lead you into the carriage, taking her seat next to you, completely unaware of the eyes that had been following you since the moment you'd left home.

-

Silas returned inside, seeing his uncles smirking with pride at the game he'd just played but instead of going to them to celebrate his victory, he went to Prince Albert and Queen Victoria who seemed to be arguing in a low tone in the corner while the guests were being seated in the dining hall.

Clearing his throat, he got their attention.

"Your majesties, I am so sorry for not informing you about my union with Y/n. Its just my wife is terribly shy and we wanted to keep this marriage a secret. But I understand how this creates an embarrassing situation for the crown, and I would like to humbly turn down my dukedom-"

"No." The queen cut him off, her eyes void of any emotion. "The dukedom was awarded to you for your achievements, not because you were asked to marry my daughter. Helena is not something to pawn off to just anyone."

Silas offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, your majesty. I'm sure you'll find a better suitor for the princess." He took his bow before turning around to enter the dining hall while Victoria stared at his back.

"Are you really still going to keep him as the duke of Westminster?" Albert asked his wife.

She was fuming. But only Albert could tell.

"What choice did I have?" Victoria asked, still glaring at the young boy who dared to play her. "If I took the dukedom away after announcing it publicly, it would've been a far more embarrassment for the crown. They would call us "cheap"."

"We cant let him get away with it." Albert whispered. "Its Westminster. We may rule it, but the duke will still be able to influence the government."

"You think I'm not aware he wants to play politics?" Victoria snapped, before softening her tone. "I wont let him get away with it, Albert. He's just a boy. I am a queen. I wont let him or anyone humiliate us."

Silas sat down besides his cousins as his uncles raised their glasses to him. He sipped his drink, a satisfied grin resting on his face. He knew exactly what he did. Even though no one actually told him that the dukedom came with marriage to the princess, because how callous would it be to ask him to marry her when no one would give up the opportunity of becoming the queen's son-in-law, Silas knew he was expected to marry Helena.

But no one said it. No one asked him. Its the English, they never say what they mean outright, choosing to read between the lines and do what is expected of them, because its more artful, more honourable this way.

Not that Silas could care about traditions. Why would he, when he planned on exacting his revenge?

The queen only came to offer her support when he became successful enough on his own. Where was she when his parents died and his sister was left to take care of him? Sure, Victoria attended the funeral and "promised" to take care of him. But she also said she'd only do that if he proved himself. His grandmother and his sister, Daisy were the ones who raised him.

And now, years later when he got into Oxford without using his family name, without saying "I am related to the queen", when he used his skills to create a powerful business empire that has the potential to influence the British industries, she wants him?

Sure, Westminster has its benefits, but Silas doesnt need Westminster. Westminster needs Silas. He could topple over the government and even shut down Britain herself with just his influence alone. Being a duke just has given him a public platform, an acknowledgement and most importantly, backing from the crown.

And you? Marrying you wasnt just because you happened to be around. Oh no. Silas has plans for you, plans to use you and further his revenge. This is just the beginning.

-

Sarah dropped you back at your place after you insisted that you needed to inform your flatmates of your departure. She gave you a disapproving look when she found out you were living with 4 men and was very determined to have you move in with her and Silas at the FitzGeorge estate, but you were able to persuade her to let you stay the night at home one last time.

"There's something I need to tell you guys." You fiddled with your thumbs as they all sat down in front of you.

"I um... I'm married."

"What?" Shepherd asked. "And you still went on a date?"

"I went on a date with my husband-"

"And who is that?"

You took a deep breath.

"Silas FitzGeorge."

Everyone except for Benjamin broke into laughter.

"Yeah, good one. Seriously, who is it?"

You frowned. "Seriously. Its Silas FitzGeorge."

As you began explaining your situation, even showing them the jewellery that you definitely werent wearing before you left, they started to believe you.

"Y/n- you cant- you cant marry Silas. You cant just marry someone you barely know!" Colin argued.

"What? Havent you heard of "love at first sight"?" You ask but he was unamused. Sighing, you shrugged. "Look, its a marriage that will benefit us both mutually. He gets people nagging him to get married off his back and I get to use his money and influence to get dirt on high society! Besides, I can leave him anytime I want."

"Then leave him now, before its too late." Ben said, standing up as he approached you. He took your shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. "If its money you're worried about, I'll help you. I can provide for you, Y/n. Dont get into bed with these rich bastards, you dont know how selfish they can be. I- I- dont want you to get hurt-"

"I wont, Benny." You grab his arms, assuring him. "Silas and I are working together. If I go down, so will he. He wont hurt me, he cant. Its too risky for him now, you know? He announced our marriage tonight in front of the queen!"

As you began telling him about how you met the queen and all, Colin quietly left the living room to pour himself another drink, something to knock his brain out so he doesnt have to think about you and Silas.

-

Next day, before the sun even rose, you had packed up a few of your things to go live with the FitzGeorges. All the boys were awake at that time, though Colin's eyes were bloodshot from apparently drinking the wrong liqour, so he sat quietly on the sofa, watching you.

Liam and Shepherd took your bags to put it in the carriage waiting outside, while Ben pulled you in for a hug.

"I'm just moving out, Benny! I'll still see you guys." You laugh, patting his back.

Ben kissed the crown of your head before tucking it under his chin, arms tightening around you. "Just know that you will always have a home here, with us. Dont hesitate to reach out for help. And if Silas or anyone every hurts you, I dont care how rich they are, Y/n. I will take care of them. You just- just come back to us, hm?"

You pulled away from him, wiping a lone tear from your eye. "You're the best, Benny." You whisper before going to Colin, who just stared at you with red eyes.

Leaning down, you poked his cheek. "Kinda wish you werent drunk when I said goodbye, but I guess it makes it easier." Colin continued to stare at you. You grabbed his hand, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you for everything, Colin. You saved me. Truly." You gave his hand a firm squeeze before leaving, missing him mumble something under his breath.

The carriage took you to the FitzGeorge estate and you were a little disappointed to see only Sarah waiting to welcome you. Its not like you wanted Silas to make a grand gesture to welcome his bride, but you were kinda hoping he was going to ease you into his world while explaining the events of the previous night.

Sarah showed you around the house before leading you to Silas bedroom.

"Cadbury has already placed your bags in there." She turned to you. "This will be your space too, so do make changes to the place as you please."

You smiled shyly at her. Honestly, you dont know whether Sarah knows that Silas only married you for personal agenda, but she wasnt surprised when Silas announced you were his wife.

Sarah looked at you and she placed a hand on her chest, touched.

"Oh, I am so glad you're Silas's girl."

Silas's girl?

"When Silas told me he married you, I was only mad that he did it behind my back! But I suppose it is understandable... these FitzGeorge men always liked to make a statement when it came to love." Sarah said, fondly remembering her late husband.

Sarah continued to gush about you enough for you to know that you dont need to kiss her ass. You have her approval.

When she left, you looked around the large bedroom, Victorian and dark academia was the aesthetic. Wooden panels lined the room, the shelves were stocked with thick books, a study table in one corner, an ottoman chest seat in front of the bed. The entire room was illuminated by the large windows that opened into the balcony, overlooking the large gardens and the cold air of London.

Standing at his balcony, you couldnt help but wonder...

Silas definitely has to HAVE a mega douchebag personality if this was where he was raised.

I mean who wouldnt have an ego trip if they woke up to a view like this, a butler named CADBURY who probably brings him his bland tea and tells him about all the proposals he had, and Silas would just wave a hand in dismissal, telling his butler to reject them all on his behalf.

Silas lived like a king. Or at the very least, lived like the 1% of Britain.

Returning back into the room, you looked at the interior before a grin formed on your face.

Time to snoop around, Y/n. You made your way to his desk.

Lets see what secrets you're hiding, husband.

-

Silas walked in on you folding your clothes and placing them in his closet.

"What do you think you're doing?" He huffed, loosening his tie. He was still in his clothes from last night, having just returned home after celebrating with his uncles and cousins.

You turned to him, faking enthusiasm. "Hello to you too."

Silas rolled his eyes, sitting on his bed. "Dont touch my things." He began untying his shoes.

"Why? You worried my poverty would taint them?"

He looked you dead in the eyes.

"Yes."

"Haha." You close the closet and turn to him. "We need to talk."

He looked at you miserably. "Cant it wait-" "No."

"Fine, then. Go on, I'm listening." He leaned against the headboard while you took your place on the foot of the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me last night that we were going to the palace? Or that you were going to announce our marriage?"

Tired eyes looked at you. "I didnt want to risk you getting cold feet."

Okay. Fair enough.

You gave him a nod. "Fine. Still would've liked a heads-up." "I'll keep that in mind for next time. Good night-" He began closing his eyes when you spoke again.

"No. We still need to talk about our situation." You looked at your lap, smoothing your dress before looking at him again, only to find his tired eyes studying you.

"Silas, who knows that our marriage is not... real?"

"It is a real marriage. We signed proper documents and all." He told you. "What you mean to ask is who knows our marriage is like mutually beneficial business deal? The answer is- no one, except for my butler and his wife, who wont say a word. And I want it to stay that way."

You raised a brow. "So... what exactly is the image you're trying to sell to the world? That we're a young couple, madly in love?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Silas." Your tone turned serious. "If you want people to believe this fairytale you're creating, then you need to get your stories straight. And involve me in it too!"

He tilted his head at you before sighing. "Fine. Lets say... we met two months ago."

"Where?"

He grinned. "Ballet theatre. Near Oxford university."

"Ballet theatre- are you trying to use your grandparents story?"

He shrugged. "So what if I am? Besides, people will love it."

You glared at him, but he continued on with his story. "So we met at the ballet theatre, you fell madly in love with me the first time you saw me. Your exact words were- "Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, have I died and went to heaven to witness the utter beauty of an angel-"

"I have seen rodents looking better than you." You cut him off.

"You're ruining my story." He scolded you. "Fine, we can say that after you were mesmerised by my beauty, you stalked me for a few weeks until I finally said yes out of pity-"

"Silas."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the details to you, just remember- we met at the theatre. Thats the most important part of the story."

"Okay, I'll add my version of the events, which you can read in the papers in a day or two." You stood up, walking over to the vanity. "I will be going to work from tomorrow. I'll tell your grandmother I'm going to visit some friends, and you'll drop me off at my old place where I'll change my clothes and then I'll go to the office."

"Very well." He turned his head to look at you. "But after you're done writing about us, continue working on the White Chapel murders."

You hummed, turning around. "Dont worry, I should be able to get access to the letters in a few days. Wait- Silas, didnt you say your friend owned the paper I worked for?" He nodded. "Well, can you ask him if he could let me, I mean- assign Sherlock Holmes to work on the case? You could bribe him with giving an exclusive interview about your marriage for the papers, in return, he has to let me work the murder story."

"Consider it done." Silas said, putting his arm over his eyes.

"Um, Silas?"

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"Where am I to sleep?" With Sarah in the house, its not like you can occupy another room. It'll raise suspicion.

Silas removed his arm to look at you, before looking at his large bed.

You shake your head. "I am not sleeping in the same bed with you-"

"I wouldnt want that either." He said, grabbing a pillow. Your heart warmed at the gesture. He really was going to leave his bed for you, like the true gentleman-

Thud.

You looked at the pillow he'd thrown on the floor.

"There." He pointed before returning to bed.

"You want me to sleep on the floor?"

With his eyes closed, he replied. "You say that like you expected me to sleep on the floor."

"Well-"

"Its my room, my bed. Why would I sleep on the floor?"

"I dont know, whats the word- chivalry?!" You huffed, grabbing the pillow and walking near the closed balcony window. It was cold but you'd rather sleep with a pretty view than to wake up to Silas feet landing on your face.

Muttering curses under your breath, you soon fell asleep with your back turned to Silas. A few minutes later, he got off the bed and dropped a blanket on your sleeping body.

And they say chivalry is dead. He thought to himself, returning to his bed.

-

The next day, while dropping you off to work, you brought up the previous day's convo.

"I need something." Silas's gaze flickered from the window of the carriage to you. "What do you know about Henry Blackwood?"

Silas' looked bored again. "He's a fellow businessman, invests in people rather than companies, likes to keep his operations in the dark, which means he has secrets. His shop blew up some time ago, allegedly a "technical failure" but... I think someone did it."

"You think so too?" You asked, hopeful. "Do you know who?"

Silas shook his head. "No. His enemies, like his operations are secret. All I know is someone did it to send a message to him, blew up the shop deliberately while he was out."

A message?

"I want to get dirt on him." You watch Silas raise a brow at you. "Just... get me close to him, or to his people. I saw him talking to your uncles, maybe they know something?"

Silas shakes his head again. "My uncles talk to anyone who has money. Henry wouldnt ever invest in them, they couldnt manage a business for the life of them."

"And you? Would Henry invest in you?"

Silas nodded. "He's tried. I wasnt interested." He cut you off before you could even suggest the idea. "And I'm still not interested. But I'll get you close to him."

"Thank you." You settled back in your seat before remembering another request. "Silas?"

"What now?"

"Can I have some money?"

"Here's a pound-" You glared at him, making him sigh. "How much?"

"Mmhm, oh I dont know... just enough to buy a small house-"

"And why do you need a house?"

You looked at him dumbfounded. "Well, when our marriage goes to the sewers, I would like to have a roof over my head."

"And what if I say I dont intend on ending this marriage?" Your blood ran cold at his words.

"What?"

Silas tilted his head at you before chuckling. "Why have you turned pale? If anyone should be horrified at the prospect of staying married in this mismatch, completely unbalanced relationship, it should be me. Struck down, caught out of the lake in his prime, of both beauty and brain-"

"Oh God, please stop talking before blood starts pouring out of my ears."

"So you agree your voice is irritating enough to do that?" Silas remarked smirking.

"Shut up." You flared your nostrils at him. Why does he have to ruin my mood this early in the day?

He chuckled victoriously, looking out the window. "I'll get you the house. You dont need money for it." He looked at you, already knowing you'd be confused. He grinned, pointing to himself. "Duke of Westminster-" he then points at you. "Duchess of Westminster."

Of course. Now that you're married to the duke, you have a whole lot of land in your hands. You really can have a house anywhere you'd like.

The carriage stopped. "Off you go now, wife."

Entering the office, you were first greeted by Will, the man in charge on working on the White Chapel murders.

"Holmes! How did you do it?" He shook you by the shoulder gleefully. "How did you convince the boss to post my story next?!"

I married his friend. "Oh, I just... promised him an article. Once I give him that, we can work together on the murder story."

He nodded, ushering you to finish off your article first before helping him.

Making your way to your desk, you spotted Colin. "Hey, Colin-" But he walked right past you, as if he didnt hear you.

Maybe he didnt. You shrugged, sitting down at your desk as you began writing down the news about you and Silas.

-

"Oh, Mr Holmes has definitely written most accurately about you Y/n!" Sarah said as she read the papers at the breakfast table. "He calls you the "fairest maiden in town" and "beauty with brains"- oh, I couldnt agree more!"

You smiled, sipping your tea sheepishly while Silas rolled his eyes. Its been 3 days since you wrote an article announcing your marriage to the world, and the editor decided to post it on Sunday, when you and most of London had off from work, all tuning in to read "how the most eligible bachelor bagged the fairest maiden in town."

Sarah ate some of the dishes you'd prepared today. "These are absolutely delicious, Y/n! Silas, your wife-" A maid came in to inform her that there's someone at the door to meet her. As Sarah excused herself, you got up from your seat to serve Silas the food you'd made on Sarah's request.

Silas picked up his fork and took a bite, a smile forming on his lips.

"Have I ever told you how good of a cook you are?"

You blushed, looking down. "No-"

"Then why do you keep cooking?" He dropped his fork on the plate, pushing it aside. "Stop using my kitchen." He smirked as he drank his tea, watching rage take over your face.

"Listen you twat-"

Sarah came back rushing in, a worried look on her face. Silas immediately sat up. "What is it, nana?"

"The- there was someone here from the palace." She gulped. "They sent flowers and a letter congratulating you two on the marriage. They... they said they'd like to meet Y/n and- and welcome the new couple officially."

Silas understood Sarah's worry. The palace never writes to them. In fact, the last time they did, it was years ago when his parents had died.

Getting up from his seat, Silas wiped his face with a napkin before dropping it on the table. "Then we'll let them. We shall host the Queen."

"Si-" But he took her by the shoulders, easing Sarah's worry.

"Dont worry. This is our home, nana." We have the advantage.

Silas left to start making arrangements for hosting the queen at the estate, while Sarah ran around the house with the staff to prepare for the event that is a week from now. Seeing as you couldnt be of use there and everyone was too busy to give you any pointers on what to say or act when the queen arrives, you left the estate to explore the town. Or more specifically, return to the blown up vintage store.

Yep, you're still hoping your time machine survived.

When you arrived on Regent street, you saw the same men still guarding the store, so they probably still wouldn't have let you in. But you also saw Henry, who was leaving the store and in his carriage.

Deciding to follow him, you sneaked into the back of someone's carriage and rode it before jumping off it when it got near Henry's carriage. Fortunately, you didnt have to follow him for long as he got off on Piccadilly street soon and strolled into a place called "The Gentlemen's Club" and from the looks of the daunting bouncers standing outside, you knew you couldnt just stroll in like Henry.

You watched the people who seemed to walk into the club, mostly men, all dressed formally and looked like they were a part of the high society. You saw some women too, though most of them dressed scandalously, so you assume they were there to provide entertainment.

As the sun began setting, more and more people started entering the club and just when you were about to leave, you saw Henry walk out of the club, a frown settled on his face. You werent expecting him to leave the club so soon, not when more people had started going in there, to rave or whatever. If Henry was here for pleasure, then he came out too early. If he was here for business, then most of the club goers have just begun entering, which means that whoever he wanted to conduct business with was already in there. Someone who works at the club... maybe even owns it?

As you turned to leave, you felt someone bump into you.

"Watch where you're going!" The blonde haired woman shrieked at you before crossing the street to go to the club.

You huffed. Everyone's got a giant stick up their-

You whipped your head around, feeling someone watching you. And thats when you spot it- a shadowy figure of a man, standing in the window of the club, on the second floor. Henry? No, he left. Then...?

The shadow didnt move, staring at you until it creeped you enough to make you leave.

-

Silas finally sat down after working all day. Cadbury brought him his evening tea.

"How are the preparations coming along?" He asked his butler. Cadbury informed him of the arrangements he's made and the guest list he's written down that needs his approval before he sends out the invitations.

"And the seamstress will come tomorrow to make a gown for Miss Y/n-"

Silas cut him off. "No need. Send the seamstress to me first. I'll let her know what kind of clothes need to be made for the event, then she can take Y/n's measurements."

"As you wish, sir." Cadbury said, but Silas could see something troubling the young butler. They werent that apart in age, and both of them had practically grown together, each reading the other person well.

"What's the matter, Cadbury?" Silas set his teacup down.

Cadbury took a deep breath. "Its just- I dont understand why the palace is suddenly coming to visit you, after what happened at the dukedom ceremony. It was certainly... humiliating for them, so why would they be coming to welcome Miss Y/n into the family?"

Silas grinned. "They're coming to see who I replaced the princess with." He picked up his cup. "They couldnt break me down, so they're going to try their luck with the missus. There's another reason why the queen is coming, but you let me worry about that."

Cadbury looked concerned. "Then we should prepare Miss Y/n to make no mistakes."

"Dont worry, she wont." Silas smiled, making his butler even more confused. "Speaking of, did you observe her when she was cooking in the kitchen today?"

Cadbury nodded. "Yes. And as you'd said, she didnt touch, let alone cook with bacon or wine despite my insistence that its your favourite. She replaced the meats, and didnt use any alcohol at all!"

Silas chuckled, his eyes gleaming with intent. "Perfect. Just as I'd suspected." He looked at Cadbury again. "Are there any leftovers from the food she'd made?"

"Yes. I was about to throw it out-"

"No. Bring them to me. I'll eat them. If Y/n asks, tell her you fed it to the dogs and then they got violently sick." Cadbury was confused as he left to bring him the food. He thought that Silas didnt like your cooking, at least from what he'd heard him say to you.

Oh. Maybe the young duke just doesnt want to acknowledge that he enjoyed your food.

-

A week passed by quickly and the day of the royal dinner came. You were freaking out because Silas had barely spoken two words to you about how to act or what to say, just telling you to act as yourself and he'll take care of the rest.

"What the hell...?" You muttered, watching your reflection in the mirror. Okay, you're not a conservative, but even you knew that this plunging neckline was a little too much skin for this time period, especially in front of the queen!

You were wearing a white satin and lace gown- wedding gown, if you were being honest. All that was missing was a veil, but you guess that would be a little too much on the nose. The dress was beautiful, no doubt, but it was missing a whole lot of cloth around the neckline, the tight corset making your chest puff out slightly more with a snatched waist. Your collar bones looked prominent, but you would credit that to the bland food served in London. Seriously, why do they act like vampires when it comes to adding garlic?

"Your husband had this dress designed specifically for you, madame!" The seamstress told you as she added her finishing touches. "He must love you a lot!" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you wore the jewellery he'd sent for you.

Yes. Thats why I sleep on the floor while he sleeps in his bed. Hope he suffocates under those plush sheets. My backache is the sign of our true love.

"Oh, who did that to your hair?" You heard a voice behind you and you turned around quickly.

"Benny!" You squealed, watching Ben, Liam, Shepherd and Colin enter your room. "Ah, I'm so glad you all came."

"Of course we did. There's free booze-" Shepherd smacked Liam on the back of his head. "We're here because we're happy for you."

"And because they wanted to see the queen." Colin said, rolling his eyes, making the other two bicker with him.

"How's Silas treating you? Are you happy?" Ben asked in a low tone as he fixes your hair.

Oh Ben. He reminds you so much of Qasim. "Yes, Benny. Silas is very good to me. I couldnt be happier."

Ben had a sad smile on his face as he nodded.

Just a few minutes later, Silas entered your room. "Y/n. Gentlemen." He nodded to them, before pulling you aside. "I need to talk to you."

You looked at him surprised. Silas was concerned. He was nervous about something. You've never seen him break a sweat.

"What is it, Silas?"

"The queen is onto us."

"What?"

Silas looked at you exasperated. "She knows about our sham marriage." He casted a look to the boys, who were pretending like they werent trying to hear what he was whispering to you. Silas pulled you close by your elbow to whisper. "I have a source telling me that the queen knows you... you're not a Christian. That you're a Muslim."

You pull back to look at him wide eyed. "How- how did she- how did you-?"

"I suspected, you confirmed it now. But she knows. And she's coming here tonight to expose us. If she tells everyone tonight, then she'll be able to take away my dukedom and she will make our lives hell!"

Your throat went dry. "What- what do we do?"

"There's a way." Silas grip on your arm tightened. "We get married for real."

You tilted your head in confusion before shaking your head at what he was implying. "Silas, no-"

"We get a Nikkah."

A Nikkah? If... if you get a Nikkah with him, an Islamic wedding ceremony, then you'll be married to him for real. No- no, the only reason you'd agreed to his proposal was because you knew it was a fake marriage, it didnt really affect your conscious because it was a sham! But-

"No. Silas-"

"Y/n, please." Silas pleaded. "Dont make me beg. If the queen finds out, everything I've worked so hard for, it'll be for naught. She'll take it all away. Dont you- dont you want to help catch the lunatic behind those murders? Dont you want to make a difference by writing? If you dont do this, if you dont stand by me, we'll both be done for!"

You looked at him conflicted, your resolve starting to break as he continued to talk. "My sister, my parents, my grandfather... my family... they need me, Y/n. They need me to pull this off, for me to reinstate our honour, for me to remove the stain and stigma from my family's name. Please, I'm asking you to do this for me... for my family." He swallowed thickly, his eyes boring into you with intensity. "You once told me you lost everything. I'm telling you now that I'll lose everything if we dont do this. Will you let me lose everything, Y/n?"

Lose everything? Everything?

You shake your head. "No, Silas. I... I wont let you lose everything."

10 minutes later, there was an imam in your room. Silas had somehow managed to find an imam in London to marry you two off. But you suppose when you're so rich and well connected, you can find anyone.

This is happening. This is really happening.

With Ben, Colin, Liam and Shepherd as your witnesses and Cadbury and his wife as Silas's witnesses, the imam began the Nikkah ceremony.

Am I really getting married?

You watched the imam ask Silas some questions, and you tuned them out except for one.

"Are you a Muslim?"

You looked up. A flicker of hope! Yes! If Silas isnt a Muslim, he cant marry you! The Nikkah wont happen, or at the very least wont be real because he's not Muslim! He cant marry you, this will still be a sham marriage, a paper marriage and your conscious will be clear and you wont feel like throwing up-

"Yes. I converted an hour ago." Silas informed the imam. "I took my shahada, in sound mind and state, of my own will without any pressure or coercion."

No. Oh no-

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?"

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" The imam repeated.

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" He asked again.

"I do." And with that, Silas signed the Nikkah contract. The officiant then turned to you.

"With the agreed mahr, do you take Silas to be your husband?"

"Mahr?" You whisper in a daze. The officiant looks confused. "Do you not know what your mahr is?"

Mahr is a gift to the bride given by the groom. It is a symbol of the groom's promise to care and provide for the bride. You're more surprised that Silas even knew what Mahr is.

"It must've slipped my mind to tell you." Silas looked at Cadbury, who handed him a document. "For your Mahr, I give you Westminster palace." You looked at the document, he really had signed it over to you!

"Silas..." You say in disbelief, your hands trembling a bit. He smiled reassuringly at you. "You wanted a house. Here's one."

House? He gave me a palace!

"Do you take Silas to be your husband?" The imam asked you. You stared at Silas, at his content face. He didnt have to sign over a whole palace to you, much less one which he'd just gotten from the queen!

And he looked perfectly content with his decision. Not a shadow of doubt. He... he trusts you? Trusts that you'll maintain this union? Wont run out on him- wont betray him?

"I do."

Does he believe that this marriage will last?

"I do."

Does he trust you?

"I do."

You signed the papers, your eyes still in a daze as Silas smiles charmingly at you before pulling you close to hug you. You hear everyone clap around you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you."

-

Silas escorted you to the dining room where all the guests were waiting. You were still quiet and in a trance as you walked by him, with your hand around his arm.

He's surprised it didnt make you suspicious with how quickly he'd found an imam. Truthfully speaking, Silas knew you were a Muslim when he first proposed to you. He had his doubts, which were confirmed by his observations especially with your aversion to foods that were forbidden for Muslims. And yes, the queen had also found out about you being a Muslim, but only because he spread the rumour to them.

The Nikkah documents, the ceremony, the Mahr, he had already planned it the moment he found out that the queen was coming over. And the reason why he waited until the last minute to spring this out on you was so that you would be pressured into saying yes. He just couldnt risk you taking time to think this through.

You may still be under the impression that Silas chose you because it was circumstantial or whatever, but he chose you to be his wife precisely because you were a Muslim. Oh he has plans to use you.

You're everything the English monarchy hates, what it stands for. You're not prim and proper, despite your best attempts. You work, that too disguised as a man, and you're far too strong willed and determined to prove yourself unlike the British high society women.

He knows the crown wont be happy to have Muslim bride in the family, much less a Muslim duke who just so happily signed off Westminster palace to his wife.

A Cheshire grin graced his lips, which people mistook for glee for being with his blushing bride. He's going to have fun ruffling the queen's feathers. He's going to tilt the palace upside down.

Curtsying to the queen, Silas immediately noticed and took great pleasure in the queen's displeasure at your dress. Yes, he specifically chose a wedding gown that showed too much skin for the conservative monarch.

"Your majesty, this is Y/n, my sweetheart." Silas introduced you so lovingly, you couldnt help but be flustered as you avert your eyes to the ground.

"Its an honour to meet you, your majesty." You manage to say without throwing up.

Victoria casted one unamused look to you. "Very interesting choice for clothing."

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. She hates it. I knew it-

Silas's hand gently grasped yours. "Thank you, your majesty. I chose it for her after being inspired by a painting my love gifted me. Ah, let me show it to you."

You already knew it was the stupid portrait he was talking about, and you wanted to hide away into a corner as you saw the disapproval on the queen's face- God, she doesnt mask any emotion, does she?

The queen turned to Silas. "I have heard a rumour and I would like you to address it now." She said, glancing at you.

Silas nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Why dont you go and help nana with the guests? I'll be right with you."

Sarah was introducing to the guests, but your head was preoccupied with Silas and the queen. They are definitely talking about me-

"Y/n, this is Mr Blackwood." You stared at the familiar face. "Oh please, Sarah. No need to be formal with me." He smiled charmingly. "Besides, miss Y/n and I have met before."

"Well, thats wonderful! You two talk- I have to find my troublesome grandsons before they embarrass me!" Sarah left you with Henry.

"Congratulations on your wedding." He said with exaggerated joy, though his eyes expressed anything but that. "I'm sure he offered you a lot of money for putting up a show. I just wish you'd told me about it before."

"Excuse me?" You frowned. "I'm not putting up a show."

He raised a brow. "Really? You expect me to believe that a FitzGeorge wants to marry you? Out of the blue?" He throws a look to your gown. "That this wedding dress wasnt him trying to just convince the world that you're his wife?"

Your jaw ticked. "You're right. This dress is Silas's way telling everyone we're married. Because we were married on paper before, but I have an imam, 4 witnesses and a Nikkah document stating that Silas and I are married, both in the eyes of the law and God." You watched Henry's face fall. What use was it lying when he already heard of the rumours. Rolling your eyes, you turned to leave, only for him to reach out and grab your arm.

"Why are you doing this?" Henry asked you, looking for any signs of you lying. He didnt find any. "You know you dont belong with him-"

"Oh? I dont?" You snapped. "Who do I belong with? No, go on. Tell me."

He pulled you close, looking into your eyes. "Me. You belong to me. You know it, you felt it- we have something. We have-" He lowered his voice. "I can give you everything you want. Whatever you'd lost in my shop, I'll find it again. I'll travel the world for it, just- come to me. Leave Silas."

"That is the most pathetic thing I've heard come out of a man's mouth." You yanked your hand out of his grasp, walking away from him. The next time you saw him, he was busy talking with Victoria's heir- Prince Edward VII.

"Sweetheart, there you are!" Silas grabbed you, pulling you along. "I was just telling her majesty about how we met. You remember, love?" He shot you a knowing look.

You nodded, remembering what you two had practised. "Yes. We met at the ballet theatre near Oxford. It was love at first sight-"

"Ballet theatre?" Victoria's voice was sharp. Your heart dropped as you tried to follow up on your lie. See, this is why you two should've discussed this because its hard to lie on the spot!

"She's an amazing ballerina! Ah! I was immediately charmed by her art! She bewitched me!" Silas said cheekily and you wanted to smack him for saying "bewitched" because this is still Victorian era and sure, they dont have witch trials anymore, but why would he risk even the accusation when it is literally the queen's ancestors who had a major part in burning up "witches" in the 1600s!

Look, people back then were dumb and evil, which is a really bad combination.

"Is she now?" Victoria looked at you now, with those piercing eyes. "I would love to attend a show of yours. See what these FitzGeorges fancy so much."

Oh she knows. You can see it, hear it in her monotonous voice that she knows Silas is lying.

And yet this dumbass continues to lie. "Of course! We'll host you for... Christmas eve?"

As Victoria left, you glared at Silas. "Why would you say that?! I'm not a ballerina and you invited her to watch me dance? Do you want to get caught?!"

Silas tutted at you. "You worry too much. Its not that hard, you know. Besides, you have my grandmother to teach you. Ah yes, nana will love it-"

"Silas!" You stopped him. "I cant learn ballet in a month!"

"Not with that attitude-"

"We will get caught. You will be caught, and I will be embarrassed and- and- I wont let anyone make a fool out of me, Silas!" He pulled you into his chest, shushing you.

"I wont let anyone make a fool out of you either, Y/n." He pulled your head back to look at you with those deceptively charming eyes. "You carry my name next to yours now. You're my wife now, and by association, your dignity is my dignity now. I wont let anyone make a mockery of us, Y/n."

You looked up at him and you believed him. How could you not, when lying comes so easily to Silas?

He watched Sarah console you, promising to help you learn. Silas his his smile as he picked up his glass, enjoying his plan falling into place.

Ah, it would be a pity to see your heart break when the entire theatre laughs at you.

Thoughts????

[karikarasuno]

part seven | part eight | part nine

law decides three months into officially dating that you're his girlfriend. he doesn't inform you of this, though. he just goes on with his life. he spends most of his evenings with you if he's not working. you sleep at each other's houses more often than not. you even text him throughout his day. small check-ins, mostly, but he cannot hide his smile every time he sees your name pop up on his phone.

he, for lack of a better word, is so smitten with you. which is why he's currently feeling an odd sort of guilt fester in the pit of his stomach at the idea of telling you he will be away all of next week. yes he had the opportunity to tell you before, but no he did not. and that's his own fault.

"a conference? doctors have conferences?" you question him with a sweet kind of confusion. you're in the middle of washing a mug you used for tea when he drops the bomb. not a major one. nothing close to atomic.

"yes," he answers plainly, leaning on the counter beside your sink.

"for how long?" you ask, and he does cherish this time of cute curiosity you possess because the next bomb is slightly bigger.

"4 days," he shrugs, trying so so hard to be casual.

"what? when?!" you place the mug on the drying rack above your sink. your eyes narrow in his direction. but he remains calm. he refuses to lose control of this situation.

"next week." there's a silence as he watches you think. at this rate, he can see each individual thought cross your brain and morph your expressions into something a little sour.

"in 3 days next week?"

"my flight is monday morning." you use the washcloth hanging off of your oven handle to wipe your hands. you're pointedly not looking at him. which is not a good sign.

"and you decided that now was a good time to tell me as opposed to literally any other day before today?" attitude, sharp and witty, is beginning to seep into your tone. if he doesn't nip it in the bud now, it will be much harder to make it up to you later.

so, he does what he does best. he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and hugs you. he drops a kiss to your temple before muttering, "i'm sorry, i didn't know how to bring it up."

he initially debated on lying, saying that he forgot. but he's a) a terrible liar and b) not a forgetful person. especially now that you already know how anal retentive he is when it comes to packing. he had a hard time being away from home and you knew that. he is still wrapping his mind around being away from you for the whole of next week, which was a main factor as to why he waited so long to tell you. because he himself doesn't want to go. but he has to. while he's a boyfriend first, he's a workaholic second.

"well, i'm not sure i forgive you because to be honest i'm a little annoyed you waited so long to tell me." he can hear the pout in your voice. he can also see the way you wring the towel between your fingers. "i mean you had like what? a month to let me know and you chose 3 days before your trip. what if i wanted to do something next week? what if i was planning for you to meet my parents?"

"you wanted me to meet your parents?" his arms involuntarily tighten around your torso and something viciously affectionate squeezes his gut.

"not anymore!" you throw the towel down. "i'm starting to reconsider, especially since you won't be here anyway."

"meeting your parents sounds like something serious?" he refuses to let it go. you want him to meet your family. that sounds like "something a boyfriend would do?"

"boyfriends also tell me when they're gonna be gone for a week more than a few days in advance."

law smirks to himself. your brattiness is starting to show. it doesn't come out often, but when it does he gets some sort of sick satisfaction from it. he also likes how the word boyfriend sounds rolling off your tongue. it warms his insides.

"how can i make it up to you?" he kisses down the side of your face, knowing exactly what he's doing.

"nothing," you say impassively, squirming to try and remove yourself from his embrace, but he's reluctant to let go.

"there's gotta be something i can do," he tries again, his kisses moving to behind your ear because he knows it always softens you. but the moment you begin to relax into him, you're jolted out of whatever spell he's attempting to cast on you.

"you wanna know what i think?" you straighten in his arms, turning around to face him. "i think you do this on purpose. you like making me mad."

you're pointing a finger at him, your eyes are narrowed and you have such a look of determined clarity on your face. and it's not like he enjoys making you mad per se. he just likes to bicker with you every now and again. you're easy to rile up. it's not really his fault you look so pretty when you're irritated with him.

"what are you on about?" but he won't admit that to you. at least not now.

"i think you think its hot. it turns you on, doesn't it?" the smuggest expression tugs at your features. your lips pull into a conspiratorial grin and your eyes light up. like you caught him red-handed.

"you're insane." he takes a measured step away from you as he dismisses your claim.

"and you're a liar." your step mirrors his and your finger is still pointed at him. your other hand is on your hip. he tries not to check you out, but he can't stop the way his eyes trail over you. it doesn't help his case whatsoever. especially when he meets your gaze again and he can tell you've read him like a book. so he turns around and starts to leave the kitchen. he won't allow you to gain the upper hand now, not when he's so close to reaching his goal.

"where are you going?" you ask from behind him. you haven't followed him yet; he can tell by the distance of your voice.

"the bedroom," he replies innocently. he chooses not to face you until he's within the doorway of your room. he leans against the doorframe, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"why?" you inquire. you take one step towards him, skeptical. but he knows you'll join him. he already knows how this will end. he's thought this through. just because you caught him off guard doesn't mean he still won't be the victor.

"because i think it'll be easier to plead for your forgiveness in here." he tilts his head in the direction of your bed, his eyes still locked on you. you shuffle. your mind working out what your options are. you're stubborn like that. unwilling to give up when it doesn't suit you. he admires that about you. law enjoys working for it.

"that's not gonna work," you decide.

"well," he holds out a beckoning hand to you, "why don't we try it out anyway?"

****

law is aware he should not be calling you. but he hasn't heard your voice in two days. he swears he's going through withdrawals. he's willing to roll over and go to bed in his fancy hotel room that's worthless without you in it when you answer on the final ring.

"it's late," you grumble, your voice heavy from sleep. he hears some shuffling on your end. you're probably readjusting the phone so it's not lost in the endless sea of pillows you choose to sleep with every night.

"i know. i'm sorry," he sighs, but he's not particularly remorseful. he's only human after all and he misses you.

"mhmm, that's what they all say."

"and who's this 'all' you're talking about?"

"just my other boyfriends who know better than to call me past my bedtime." he can hear the playful note in your tone. he fights his own smile in response.

"right, so then why'd you answer my call in particular?" he asks as he turns to lay on his side. the phone now squished between his cheek and pillow.

"because," you pause and his heart stutters a little in his chest. "you're my first draft pick. it comes with certain perks and benefits."

"like what?"

"like me answering your call after i've gone to bed," you laugh. it sends a sticky warmth through his gut and he settles further into bed. the exhaustion from the day is finally catching up to him. he was restless before. tossing and turning until he realized it was you. you're what he needs to find rest nowadays.

"well considering i'm more important than everyone else-"

"that's not what i said, but go on." you laugh again and he can no longer fight his smile. it stretches into a sleepy grin across his face.

"i have a favor to ask," he hesitates. he knows he's springing something else on you late notice, but these are standing plans he already had.

"i'm too sleepy for phone sex," you say and he chokes on a laugh.

"that wasn't my intention with this call," he replies, coughing lightly.

"wow, you're not even gonna try to talk me into it?" from the sounds of it you're disappointed. you're absolutely ridiculous.

"nope, not tonight, baby," he shakes his head as if you can see him. he turns on to his back again and stares at the ceiling of his room. if he tries hard enough he can almost imagine your ceiling fan spinning slowly above his head.

"what's the favor then?" he knows for a fact you're pouting. he can hear it so well it's almost as if you're beside him and not hundreds of miles away.

"this friday is cora's birthday and we have this little tradition of going out for a few drinks, maybe shoot some pool. i was wondering if you'd like to come?"

"oh," you're shocked. it startles him a little when you take a beat to answer. "that's really sweet actually. so, ok, i'll go."

"good, because he's been bothering me to meet you."

"we've met before," you chuckle.

"that's what i told him, but he said that didn't count."

"that's fair, i guess." he hears you shift again in your sheets. the line gets muffled for a second before you huff and it clears up. "so it's a definite no to the phone sex."

law cannot help the gruff laugh that rises from his chest. "yeah, no, but maybe i'll try again tomorrow. since i'm so special. being number one and all."

"fine, but i can't promise i'll be awake," your voice is already drowsy with sleep. he can tell you're being sucked back into your slumber as your words become slurred with dreaminess.

"will you answer again though?"

"yeah," you slur. "there's very little i wouldn't do for you." and law isn't sure if you intended to say that last part out loud. it's quiet and distant enough to have been whispered to yourself. for your ears only. but he heard it, anyway. his body starts to spark with the tiniest of fireworks.

he doesn't respond, though. he can't. words aren't coming to his mind. and he can tell you're asleep. or at least nearly there. your breathing is even. each breath is slow and drawn out. you even let out the small sighs you usually make whenever you're on the precipice of falling asleep completely.

it's enough to ease him into a slumber of his own. it's familiar and comforting. and he wishes he could be there with you. but he settles for this because for now this is enough.

"law?" your voice is a faint whisper. one that he is almost positive he dreamt up, but it drags him out of his sleep regardless.

"yes?" his question lingers in the still air. he doesn't think he'll receive an answer after a few seconds pass and the only thing on the other line is your soft breathing and the static of cell connection buzzing quietly in the background.

"i love you." is said in the sound of your voice. for a second, he questions if you actually said those words. he questions if this really is a dream.

law is just so sleepy. so tired. it claws at his consciousness. he doesn't even know if he says it back.

part ten

[buckysgrace]

okay i have another thot thought for you bc i just. tmi storytime but ive been sick for a week and literally had to take a week off of work so i’ve just been watching tv and reading fanfic and GIRL (this is the tmi part) but ive been lowkey horny and reading really good smut obviously hasn’t been helping.

anyway! through that terrible horny experience with no end i was like wait fic idea and ngl your fics have been the ones that are FUCKING ME UP so who better to ask than you 😁

so the fic idea: sleepover with bestie!steve that she’s lowkey pining over and she goes to the bathroom to try and like relieve herself and be less worked up over him. it doesnt work and she just gets super frustrated and comes back out and steve obvi notices smth is wrong. well push comes to shove she tells him that she’s just really horny and it’s just not working (maybe they play truth or dare and he’s like “okay truth, why are you so pissy rn) and he’s like “i can help? we’re friends that’s not weird right?” and things just…go and eventually they’re fucking after like a whole ton of messing around. end of the story they’re like cheesy yeah i like you you’re the reason im horny DUH. yay happy ending!!!

okay that’s all :)

Thank you so much for this omg I feel so honored first of all hehehe. I'm sorry you've been sick though, and I hope you're feeling better! But this is fantastic, I looooooove this idea so much <3

CW: unprotected sex, slight dirty talk

"See," he groaned as he lifted his shirt up to his shoulder blades, exposing his mole covered skin to you, "I'm not crazy. There's a bug bite, isn't there?" He whined once again, still convinced that the picnic this afternoon had left him in bug bites.

"Where?" You asked with a sigh, scooting forward and holding onto his shirt against his skin. Your eyes drifted across the new freckles across his shoulder blades, then down towards his constellations of moles. He was covered in them in the best way, making you want to take your time to count every single one of them.

"Like up here," he said as he reached blindly, "I swear to God it itches so bad." You swatted at his hand as you huffed, trying to get him out of your way so you could look clearer.

"I don't see anything," you told him honestly, "I mean your skin is red from messing with it, but looks like just moles to me." You teased as you touched one, making him jerk forward.

"Great," he grumbled before he reached back, gripping his shirt and tugging it over his shoulders, "are you sure?" The paranoid tone he carried made you shake your head. He was too stubborn.

"Pretty positive," you nodded your head, "was there something underneath your shirt?" You tried instead, wondering if a strand of hair or a leaf had gotten caught there.

"No." He mumbled a second later as he shuffled his shirt between his fingertips, inspecting it closely.

"Do you want me to scratch your back?" you offered, grinning at the way he snorted, "I promise I won't knock any beauty spots off." You teased as you leaned forward, your chin brushing against his shoulder so you could look at him again. He cocked his eyebrows, an amused smile pulling onto his pink lips. You could feel the muscles in your stomach tightening, hating how easily he affected you.

"I appreciate it," he chuckled, tilting his head as you began to scratch as his skin, "there's really no bug bites?" He questioned again, hazel eyes glowing in warmth.

"Sorry, you're clear." You told him with a little shrug of your shoulders, sitting back as he faced you once again. You breathed in deeply twice, trying to keep yourself from admiring the thick hair that grew on his chest. You scooted back an inch for good measure, finding it harder and harder to be around him anymore.

The truth was you'd been on edge all day since you'd seen him. Swimming was a fun idea, but it always turned painful once he ripped his shirt off and stepped out into those tiny trunks that he liked to wear. That hugged his hips a little too snug for your taste. It was hard not to stare.

"Did you hear me?" He asked as he turned towards you again, eyebrows furrowing together as he caught you off guard. You blinked, trying not to count the colors that danced in his eyes.

"What?" You sputtered out a second later, bearing an apologetic smile as he sighed dramatically. He nudged you a second later, making you crinkle your nose.

"Do you want to order something? Pizza?" He suggested, sighing deeply like he was bored. You thought about it for a second, deciding that you didn't have much of an appetite. At least not for food.

"Sure," you nodded your head, "I think I'm going to shower while you do it." You stated as you crawled off of the bed, feeling a desperate need to seperate the two of you before you did something stupid.

"Now?" He questioned as he looked at you confused, furrowing his eyebrows together. You hated how handsome he still looked. And you desperately wished he'd put a shirt back on.

"Is that a problem?" You asked a second later, your question coming out more snippy than you meant for it to be.

"No, it was a question," he laughed as he held his hands up innocently, "what's got your panties in a twist?" He asked, making you shake your head.

"Ha, ha," you replied as you flicked his shoulder, making him wince, "you're hilarious. I'll be back." You told him quickly, realizing you liked the whine that left his mouth a lot more than you should.

You hated how worked up he got you, how he didn't mean to do it at all. You didn't get it, didn't understand where this sudden feeling had come from. And you didn't get how he didn't feel the same way.

Sometimes you really wished you could hate him.

A cool shower did nothing to soothe your thoughts of tracing his back with more than just your fingertips. You wanted to drag your lips in the same place your fingers had touched, wanted to count every mole and trace his fading freckles.

Your mind wandered to the same fantasy that you had been stuck on since you had gone skinny dipping a few weeks ago. It had been dark enough that you hadn't really seen anything, but the moonlight had kissed his skin just enough to give you a brief glimpse of the hair that decorated all of him.

Your fingers brushed against your clit, teasing yourself for just a moment before you slid them inside of yourself. The image of Steve doing that filled your mind, his long and nimble fingers massaging your walls as he coaxed you through your orgasm.

Only you never got that far, at least with yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't give yourself any relief. And tonight was no different. Which left you even more frustrated.

You grumbled the whole time you dried yourself off and did a brief routine with your hair, borrowing different things of his to replace the things that you had left at home.

"You okay?" He asked as you returned, finding him down in the living room this time. You shrugged your shoulders, trying to appear as peppy as you could.

"Fine." You stated as you sat down on the opposite side of the couch, feeling like you couldn't handle being so close to him at the moment. Even though you desperately wanted to.

"Pizza should be here soon," he replied as he scooted a little closer, "did you sleep in the shower?" He hummed as he brushed his fingers against the nape of his neck, making goosebumps spread across your skin.

"No, I'm fine," you sighed deeply, "just hungry." You said as you shrugged your shoulders, finding that it was a better than telling him you were horny.

"I can set the movie up," he offered, "what are we watching again?" He asked as he leaned forward, pushing away things until he found the movie.

"Mhm, something Robin suggested." You couldn't remember as you watched the way his skin rode up his back, sure that your eye was twitching as you forced your hands underneath your thighs.

"And she's got great taste." He replied sarcastically, shaking his head as he worked on setting it up. You nodded, forcing yourself to look away so you wouldn't get caught drooling.

Pizza arrived not long later, though you had a hard time eating that too. You kept focusing on the way he spoke throughout the movie, asking questions that you didn't have the answer to. But you didn't mind. You enjoyed that about him, actually.

"Wanna play truth or dare?" You asked suddenly, holding your legs to your chest as you tried not to focus on the way he had strung his arm over your shoulders.

"Are we in middle school?" He asked as he peered at you curiously, acting like this wasn't something you guys did when you were looking for something to do. And you needed a distraction.

"I'm bored," you told him honestly, whining softly, "and it's not like you're into this movie either." You pointed out, watching the way he slowly shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, well I guess you have a point," he nodded his head in agreement, "alright, truth or dare?" He turned towards you this time, moving his hand away as you felt relief growing inside of you.

"Dare." You said quickly, watching the way he pursed his lips together. He always gave you something random to do, something to make you not think of the way his legs were touching yours.

"I dare you to lick your elbow." He stated as he rubbed his thumb across his chin, smiling in amusement.

"Funny." You told him as you shook your head, knowing there was no way to do that. He nudged his knee against yours once again.

"That's my dare." He told you seriously, hazel eyes twinkling in amusement. You loved all of his pretty colors and wished you could get a better look at them.

"I can't lick my elbow!" You protested as you shook your head, laughing at his suggestion. He grinned.

"You have to at least attempt it." He told you seriously, making you sigh deeply as you rolled your sleeves up on your arm. You stuck your tongue out, doing your best to attempt it but ultimately failing.

"Are you happy?" You asked him, feeling a little giddy at the way he laughed and clapped his hands. At least you were entertaining him.

"Please," he said with a grin, "alright, your turn." He rested his hand on his cheek this time, eyes remianing locked on your features.

"Truth or dare, Steven?" You questioned as you held your fingers together, trying to resist the urge to gaze into his eyes. He groaned at his full name, shaking his head before he answered.

"Dare." He replied confidently, saying the same thing he always did. He rarely picked truth, often leaving you to wonder why.

"I dare you to -," you paused as you looked around, trying to come up with something that you hadn't come up with before, "tie this cherry stem with your tongue." You shrugged at the way he laughed.

"Oh that's so easy." He said as he plucked it from your fingertips, wagging his eyebrows as he brought it up to his lips.

"Cocky, huh?" You watched the way he acknowledged your words before he plopped it into his mouth.

"Sometimes," he grinned boyishly, "but look at this." He stated a second later, wagging his eyebrows as he proudly stuck the tied stem out on his tongue.

"Looks a little lopsided." You responded playfully as he picked it up of fof his tongue, placing it on the plate before he wipe his hands across his pants.

"Don't be jealous," he teased right back, "truth or dare?" He asked, making you think for a moment.

"Oh," you sighed deeply, "truth I suppose." You said, not too keen on licking your arm again.

"What's got you all worked up?" he asked, "and you have to be honest. You can't lie about it." He said seriously, like he would know if you were lying or not. The annoying part was that he probably would.

"I'm tense," you said slowly, "I don't know, it's dumb." You shrugged dramatically, feeling a little embarrassed at your own problem.

"Tense about what?" He looked curious, maybe a little concerned as he tilted his head. You sighed, wishing that he would realize that he was the issue.

"I can't get off," you spit out finally, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. Even if it was embarrassing, "like I'm horny, but I can't get there." You said slowly, wincing as the words came out.

"Oh." He looked at you surprised, eyes widening a little bit like he couldn't believe what you had just said. Sex wasn't brought up a lot between the two of you, surprsingly enough. You didn't want to know about his sex life and apparently he didn't want to know about yours either.

"Yeah," you mumbled, "you probably didn't want to know all about that." You said slowly, feeling a little bad for unloading that on him. You certainly could've lied.

"No, it's fine. I asked," he mumbled as he sat up a little bit, "maybe I can help." He suggested a second later, making you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Help?" you looked at him surprised, "what do you mean?" You questioned him, hands feeling numb against your waist.

"Yeah, I mean-," he paused, "you scratched my back, and now I can scratch yours." He gestured towards you, making your eyes widen several sizes. Your mouth suddenly felt dry as you tried to think, wondering how you had gotten here.

"I don't know." You said slowly, worried that your own feelings would ruin your friendship. You didn't want to lose him, especially over something so silly.

"I don't have to you know," he gestured down towards himself, then towards you, "I can just help you out." He stated as he brushed his palm across your knee, sending sparks through your body.

"You're a little pervert." You spit out nervously, giggling softly as you thought about it for another second. He grumbled as he pulled his hand away.

"Fine, forget I offered." He replied as he pulled his hand away, making you panic for a brief second. That's not what you wanted at all. Maybe it was a bad idea, but what was really the worst that could happen?

"What would you do?" You asked a second later, forcing your eyes to the side of the room so he couldn't see the embarrassment that lingered on your features. You didn't want him to know that you had thought about this, that you deeply wanted him.

"Whatever you want me to do." He offered as his fingertips fell against the side of your hips, spreading warmth through the inside of your body. You inhaled deeply, turning to meet his gaze.

His hazel eyes were soft and filled with adoration, his eyebrows relaxed gently on his pretty face. You briefly glanced over the moles on his skin, heart hammering as you gave your head a slow nod.

"This doesn't have to be weird." You told him quickly, hoping that he agreed with that.

"Not weird at all," he agreed as he nodded his head, "now can I help you?" He questioned with a little laugh, your pulse quickening against the side of your neck before you responded.

"Mhm," you hummed, trying to keep as casual as possible while he looped his fingertips through the band of your pajama pants, "I'd like that a lot." You mumbled a second later, finding some brief confidence as he began to tug your pants off of your legs.

He worked slowly, like he was carefully unwrapping his favorite gift. A boyish smile formed on his lips as he looked at the panties you wore, a soft snicker leaving his lips before he kissed the corner of your knee. The remark died on your lips as a spark traveled through your body, leaving behind an electric sensation.

His lips were soft and smooth against your skin, the kisses brief but sweet. Your heart hammered roughly inside your chest as he continued to kiss further and further up your thighs, leaving your clit to throb in anticipation.

"You smell nice," he mumbled as he stalled his kisses across your inner thigh, pressing his large fingertips into your skin to spread your knees apart, "but you're just as pretty too."

"You're cheesy, Steve Harrington." You told him, biting down on the grin that had appeared on your lips. He squeezed at your flesh, looking content.

"Yeah, but you love it." He remarked a little too cocky for your taste, even though he was right. You didn't get a chance to respond as he brushed his thumb across the wet spot on your panties, making all the air leave your lungs.

A little whine left your lips this time, heart hammering as he slowly dragged his thumb across your clothed clit. You sighed at the sensation, already feeling needy as you rocked your hips forward.

He hummed something underneath his breath, something you didn't catch as he slowly stripped you of your panties next. His eyes lit up in interest, filling with lust as he pressed his fingertips against your folds.

"Real pretty," he hummed, making your insides churn at the way he observed you. You were certain that he had never looked at you in such a way before, though now you knew that you needed more, "bet you taste even better." He added, nearly making you snort.

The feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds distracted you from everything else, made your body tremble as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows. You gaped as you watched him, noting the way his expression turned blissful like yours.

He moved his tongue skillfully along your folds, lapping at your pretty cunt as he continued to keep you spread open for him. You whined as the electricity pulsed at your clit, leaving you needy as your heart raced in your chest.

He groaned a second later, sinking down further in between your legs as he got himself comfortable. You sighed breathlessly as you tangled your hands through his hair, tugging softly as you rocked yourself up against his greedy mouth.

You'd never been with a man before that had acted so eager, so desperate to eat you out. Steve seemed to know just where to touch, where to lick and suck to make it harder and harder for you to breathe. Your thighs trembled from the feeling, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as you rocked yourself up against his mouth.

His pretty lips wrapped around your swollen clit, his tongue pressing slow but deep patterns against your sensitive bud. Your whines grew louder as you contued to rut against his sinful mouth, chasing the pleasure that was spreading through your body.

"Fuck," he groaned as he slowly pulled away, taking one last drag of your cunt as he peered up at you. A carnal feeling spread inside of you as you peered at his slick covered lips, his lustful eyes and messy hair. Suddenly you wanted more, needed him badly, "your pussy tastes so good, honey." He spit out, looking just as lecherous as you felt.

You pushed yourself up further then, knocking him back a bit as you messily began to tug his clothes off of him. You had a strong desire to kiss him, but couldn't quite bring yourself to do that yet. That would make it feel too real, would cross the boundaries that you weren't sure you were ready to get rid of.

His large hands pried away your shirt and bra, making you momentarily forget the way your hands were shaking as you drifted your fingers down his hairy chest. You thought every bit of him was perfect. The moles that were everywhere, the soft freckles on his shoulders and his odd tan lines. You loved all of it.

You found yourself lying on your back again as he pressed his way up against your thighs, his heavy cock falling against your soaked cunt. You looked down at him fascninated, wondering how good it would feel to have something that large inside of you.

"Wow," you breathed out, eyes widening as you took in the curve of his cock. He was longer than you were expected, his girth thick and his tip a soft pink. Your eyes traveled down the way he slightly curved to the right, straight down to the thick hair that decorated his skin, "can I?"

"Yeah," he nodded his head, his tone straining as you wrapped your fingers around his girth. You breathed in at the sensation, licking your bottom lip as you swiped your thumb across the precum that was leaking from the head of his cock, "fuck. That's nice." He complimented quickly, eyes growing hazy as he rocked his hips forward.

You slowly dragged your hand along the curve of his cock, enjoying the way he met your motions. His grunts were blissful, sweet enough to make your knees feel even weaker. You chewed on your bottom lip, your clit beginning to burn in anticipation once again as you spread your legs once again.

"Wanna feel you," you told him quickly, chewing on your bottom lip as you dragged his tip between your slick folds. You gaped at the sensation, feeling yourself reeling at the loud whine that left his lips, "wanna make you feel good." You nodded your head in encouragement, heart fluttering at the way he locked eyes with you again.

You admired the way his lips parted as you slid his thick tip inside your wet cunt, your breath stalling as you felt yourself stretching around his girth. You felt like you were floating for a moment, body pulsing in pleasure as he gripped the back of your thighs and began to sink into you.

Little gasps rolled off of his tongue as he brushed his hands across your skin, grunting softly as he buried his cock inside of you. Every inch made you croon, made your thighs tremble and shake.

"Jesus," he spit out raspily, eyebrows furrowing together in bliss as he bottomed out inside of you. His cock was pressed snuggly against your clamped walls, throbbing as you felt yourself leaking around him, "you feel so good, honey. Is this okay?" He hummed as he dropped his forehead near yours, his breath fanning over your face.

You leaned up to him as you nodded your head, a whiny moan breaking free as you slowly released your tight grip on his arms. You savored the feeling of him being so close, of the electric energy that was pulsing between the two of you.

Your eyes drifted across the lust that was swimming in his hazel eyes, the slight pink tint to his cheeks as he brought one of his hands up to your cheeks. Your mind felt foggy as he began to brush his thumb across your cheekbone, heart hammering at the dangerous look he sent you.

You felt like enough lines had been crossed and blurred as you moved your fingers through the hair that curled against the nape of his neck. You tuggged softly, bringing him down closer until your bottom lip grazed against his.

His lips were soft and smooth, sweet like bubblegum. Your body loosened up even more underneath him as you tugged him closer, savoring the gentle way he kissed you. No one had ever kissed you in such a way before, slow like he was savoring the shape of your mouth against his.

You tugged on his hair softly, a little whine vibrating across his lips as he rocked his hips forward. You moved your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles together to keep from shaking.

"Better than okay," you squeaked out, warmth spreading inside of you as his nose brushed against yours, "more. Need you to move, Steve." You demanded of him this time, sure that you might explode if he didn't start moving.

A lazy smile formed on his lips as he pressed a brief peck to your lips, his fingers tracing the curve of your mouth a second later. You felt the whine forming on the tip of your tongue before it died off, replaced by blissful moans as he slowly began to rut his hips forward.

Electricty shot up your body as you dug your fingertips deeper into his flesh, tugging him forward as you slowly rocked your hips up to meet his slow motions. He grunted as his fingers danced along your sides, massaging your skin as he sank in and out of your soaked cunt.

You moaned at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls, spreading you apart each time he thrusted forward. You slid your hands down the curve of his back, savoring the feeling of his sweaty skin underneath your touch.

"You're so wet," he hissed a second later, tossing his head back as his eyes fluttered shut for a brief second. You moaned as you began to grind yourself up against him, chasing the way your cunt slid over the curve of his cock, "such a needy little thing." He teased, slowly opening his dark eyes as he peered down at you.

You couldn't think of any quick remarks as he continued to drag his cock in and our of your slick pussy. You were moving your hips forward just as desperately, the sound of your bodies meeting filling your ears like a filthy melody.

"More, please, please," you begged wantonly, feeling unstrained. Being this close wasn't enough, you needed more. Wanted more. The taste, smell and feel of him wasn't enough to satsify you, "please, Stevie. Give me more." You pleaded with him, flashing your eyelashes to earn a loud groan from him.

He snapped his hips forward harder, thrusting quicker and deeper as he gripped a hold of you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his back, his chest sliding against yours as you locked your ankles tightly around his waist.

"Fuck, fuck," he cursed as he dropped his head against yours once again, his voice straining as his fingertips dug into your skin this time. You whined at the sensation, body burning in pleasure as your cunt squeleched around his cock, "you feel so good, honey. So fucking good, baby." He praised, veins in his neck straining as he snapped his hips forward harder.

You whined uncontrollably as you felt the muscles in your stomach contracting, goosebumps spreading on your skin as your toes curled in awe. His cock was pressing against your deepest spots, making electricity spread through your spine.

"Steve, fuck," you cried out, fingertips aching from how harshly you were gripping him. His moans were just as desperate, mingling with yours as his thrusts became deeper and slower. Your body shook from the pleasure, mind growing hazy as your clit throbbed as your orgasm began to wash over you, "oh my God, yes! Oh God, Steve!" You squeaked as your high fell on top of you, crushing you like a harsh wave.

You momentarily couldn't breathe, your lungs swelling as your cunt clamped down around his thick girth. You shook underneath him, cumming intensely as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

"Oh fuck," he whined this time, making your insides feel like putty as you continued to tremble underneath him. Your clit was throbbing as the way he rutted into you, sloppy and deep, "you're so wet baby, so fucking soaked. That felt good, huh?" He rambled off, a hazy look in his eyes as he whined louder.

You leaned up to kiss at his neck, licking away the sweat that collected at his skin. You dragged your nails down his skin as he continued to whine, his cock throbbing inside of your soaked pussy.

He rutted into you twice, then one more time before he bottomed out against you. You could feel his balls against your skin, wet with your slick as he twitched inside of you. He groaned lowly, lips parting as he came inside of you. You moaned at the sudden feeling of his cum painting your walls, warm inside of you.

"M'sorry, m'sorry," he spit out, shaking as he fell flat against you. You savored the feeling of his body on top of yours, his weight feeling nice against you, "fuck. I should've grabbed a condom." He closed his eyes as he shook his head, cheek pressed against yours.

"It's alright," you told him breathlessly, nodding your head, "it felt good." You told him honestly, lazily bringing your hands up to brush his messy hair off of his forehead.

He moaned a second later, eyes flashing with want as he gazed down at you again. You cocked your eyebrows, feeling very comfortable despite everything that had just happened.

"You liked that, huh? Little pervert." You teased as you dragged your thumb across his sweaty forehead, enjoying the way his cheeks flushed from your words.

"Shut up." He mumbled as he groaned in embarassment, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. You smiled as you brushed your fingers through his hair, heart hammering softly as you savored the feeling of him against you. This had definitely been a good idea.

"You know," you paused for a moment, brushing your fingers across his skin gently, "you might be the reason I was so worked up." You admitted slowly, ignoring the way his head snapped up in your direction.

"Yeah?" He asked, looking amused as he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. You grumbled.

"Don't get too excited," you teased, biting at his thumb playfully, "maybe it was a one time thing." You added, earning a little laugh from him.

"I think about you a lot too," he hummed, pecking your lips softly, "glad we got that covered." He grinned as he pulled away, making your heart thump.

[yeonzzzn]

🖤won’t give up on us: sim jaeyun

part three of the off limits trilogy

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 17.1k

synopsis: your relationship with jake has been better than ever. almost two years have passed since moving in with your brother, heeseung, sunghoon and jake, what’s even better is everyone finally graduated college. but with the new freedom of your adult life, other challenges make their way into your relationship.

genre: established relationship, older brother’s best friend!au, smut, fluff

warnings: swearing, multiple unprotective sex scenes, breeding kink, hair pulling, oral (m. & f. receiving), fingering, cum eating, alcohol, masturbating, some tags will be hidden due to not spoiling the story, MINORS DNI. lmk if I missed anything ♡

✰ this is part three to this trilogy, please see part one and two under the title before reading this one. ✰

˗ˏˋseries spotify playlist´ˎ˗

In the blink of an eye, almost two years have flown by. 

Your relationship with Jake was now stronger, harder to penetrate or break. You still had fights, but never again like what happened when you broke up. 

You, yourself even felt stronger coming out of that dark place you were in. Shaping a better heart that you were able to hand to Jake. And he did the same for you. 

Everything on campus was different now. You and Jake both had eyes on you, yes. But Stella and her bitch squad never once spoke to you or even Jake again. You’ve walked past them on campus, she’ll give you a dirty look and you’ll respond with your middle finger. 

Jake even came around with Shotaro, getting to know him better, and to his surprise, was trying to hang out with him more than you. 

But one by one, everyone finally graduated college, leaving your graduation in two weeks. 

Except you didn’t think you’d make it to graduation. 

You lay on the couch in the living room, coughing up your lungs and sweat rolling down every inch of your body. How could you have gotten sick two weeks before graduation? 

“I’m actually going to die,” you mumbled. 

Your brother sat on the floor beside your head, dabbing a cool wet washcloth on your forehead, a mask covering his face. With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, he responded, “You have a terrible case of the flu, you aren’t dying.” 

The three stooges stood at the end of the couch, masks also on their faces as they watched Jay take care of you. 

“Doctor said you’ll be better next week, ya?” Jake said, reaching down and massaging your legs through the blanket covering your body, “Just continue taking your meds and you’ll be better soon.” 

You knew they were all right, but you chose to be dramatic anyway, “I’m dying!” 

Jay covered your face with the cool washcloth, “Shut up, Stinks.” 

Usually, you’d fight him on the nickname, but right now all you wanted was rest. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon took every opportunity to tease you. Heeseung would walk into the living room with a can of Febreze, spraying it as he walked past you to get to the kitchen. Sunghoon would walk by holding his index fingers into an X. You’d just respond either with your middle finger in the air or sitting up and fake coughing at them, making the boys scramble away in a hurried fashion. 

But as they all said you recovered just in time to finish up the rest of your classes for the semester and walk the stage to get your diploma. 

Jake has never looked more proud in his life watching as you crossed that stage and officially started the next chapter in your life. He had actual tears streaming down his face. 

Jay was even worse of a mess. Has snot rolling out his nose and ugly crying and everything. 

“Jongseong,” you snorted at seeing the state your older brother was in, embracing him into a tight hug as he continued to cry into your shoulder. 

“You’re all grown up, I can’t believe it. I remember when you were just a baby,” 

Your father forced Jay off you, so he and your mother could also embrace you in a hug. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon were next in line for a hug, and then there was Jake for last. 

You stared into his eyes, smiling so wide as he pulled you into a kiss, “I am so proud of you, my love.” 

“It’s all because of you,” which is true. If it weren’t for Jake or even your brother, you wouldn’t have moved in with them and graduated with their help. You were thankful for all four boys. 

Shotaro even made his way through the crowd to pull you into a hug, “You killed it, princess!” 

At one point, your eyes would drift off to Jake to see him cringe at the nickname Shotaro has given you, but over the last few years, it doesn’t bother him, Jake just stands there with his puppy dog eyes and smile, joining the hug with you and your best friend, “She did! Didn’t she!!” Jake said, nuzzling his head between you and Shotaro, “Our girl did so well!!” 

You blushed at all the compliments and love you were getting, you’d be a liar if you said you hated it all. 

Jay threw a party for you that night. Granted it was just the five of you, along with Taro and Sunghcan, but it still felt great to be surrounded by the people you loved the most. 

Everyone sat in the kitchen and living room, talking and drinking away. Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to him. His eyes traced down the side of your face and down to his necklace that even after all these years still stayed wrapped around your neck. His eyes moved down to your breasts and the way they peeked out over the drop of the dress you wore for your graduation. 

Jake felt his pants tighten, his mind wandering to the thoughts of your tits in his hands, tongue shoved down your throat and dick pushing in and out of you. His hand gripped the beer can, biting his lower lip. 

Normally, Jake would wait to dick you down once company has left, but since everyone is drunk and in no way going home tonight…

Fuck it. 

“Hey,” he whispered in your ear so seductively that it sent chills down your spine. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was Jake wanted. With the way his lips brushed your ear and hand tightened at your waist. It made you soaked on the spot. 

You leaned into him, “Hmm?” 

He softly chuckled, “You look so sexy right now,” 

Your eyes wander around to your brother and then your friends, seeing them all too interested in whatever card game some of them were playing at the table and whatever game the rest were playing on the Nintendo Switch. No one would even realize you’d two be gone. The music was playing loud enough in the apartment that they wouldn’t be able to hear anything anyway. They were too drunk to realize anything really. 

You shifted, pressing your body to his, feeling his cock hard against your stomach, your breast pressing to his chest, making him hiss, mouth practically drooling over you. 

“Keep acting up and I’ll press that pretty face of yours into the pillows in our bed.” 

You stood on your tip toes and gave him a quick kiss, “What else would you do to me? Hmm?” 

Jake’s head was spinning. Oh, the things he wanted to do to you. The way he’d do them. Fuck. 

He took the beer can from your hands, setting it down on the counter beside his, lips touching your ear again, “I’d have you screaming my name while I fuck that sweet cunt of yours until I’m spilling into you.” 

It’s all you had to hear before taking his hand and leading him to your shared bedroom, Jake closing and locking the door behind you. 

You didn’t even have time to turn around, have time to kiss him let alone touch him. Jake threw you into the bed face first, one hand on the back of your neck and he pushed your face deeper into your pillows. 

Your pussy was clenching already, feeling your slit pooling in your panties. Hands gripping the bedsheets. You turned your head slightly, looking Jake in the eyes, seeing nothing but desperation behind them, so lust-filled. 

Jake’s cock was twitching against his pants, so angry and begging to be set free. With his free hand, he lifted your hips up higher, arching your back. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he whispered, sliding his hand from your neck down your back and resting at your hips with his other hand, “Don’t move pretty, be a good girl for me, ya?” 

You nodded, biting your lips. You wanted to beg him, wanting to feel his hands everywhere and his dick deep inside you. But with the way he was right now, you knew Jake would either take his time and enjoy the way you were in front of him, or get right to fucking into you. 

Jake lifted your dress up and over your ass, bunching it at your hips, releasing a hiss, “Fuck YN,” he groaned, seeing how soaked your panties already were, “Want my cock that badly?” 

You nodded again, “Jakey please,” you wiggled your hips, Jake’s hands immediately gripping your ass and squeezing tightly. 

“I said don’t move,” he growled. 

You stayed still, listening to the sound of his shirt, jeans, and boxers hitting the floor. Jake glances down at his angry cock, pulsing and red. His precum dripped down the side of the tip, aching to find its home inside your pussy. 

He pulled your panties down, letting out a “Fuck,” at seeing your juices creating a string connecting to your paints, “You’re so fucking wet for me baby,” He lifted your legs one by one to pull the laced fabric off you, flinging it somewhere into the abyss of the room, then rolling your dress completely off your body, shoving your face back into the pillows. 

Seeing you this wet drove him insane. Watching your cunt clench around nothing, waiting so patiently for him to fill you up. 

Jake shoved two fingers inside you, ears ringing from the pleasured moans that left your mouth, scooping your wetness from you and bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it up and down his shaft. Jake suppressed the moan he wanted to let out as he pumped himself a couple of times, then adjusted himself up to your pussy, wasting no more time and shoving inside. 

Your jaw went slack as he filled you up, his hand pushing your face even further into the pillows, the fabric now in your mouth. 

Jake fucked into you hard, his hips snapping back and forth as if his life depended on it. Fingers gripping your hips tightly, surely to leave bruises in the morning. 

“Fuck, baby,” he finally moaned out, “You feel so fucking good. Fuck,” 

You were screaming into the pillows from the pleasure, chanting his name with each thrust. Your head was spinning, seeing stars. 

“You know how proud I am of you baby?” he said, fingers now wrapping in your hair, pulling you up, his chest now pressed to your back, “You’re the smartest person I know. So proud. You deserve this dick, don’t you baby?” 

You nodded, “Fuck yes Jaeyun and you’re being such a good boy giving it to me like this.” 

Jake fucked into you harder, “Yeah? I’m your good boy huh? Dicking you down so hard and fast, being so good taking me like this.” 

You reached up behind you, hands finding their way into Jake’s hair and pulling, “Fuck baby,” he practically screamed, “I’m going cum so hard if you keep it up,” 

And you did, tangling your fingers even more into his hair as you pulled with all your might, Jake’s thrusts getting sloppier. 

“No way I’m cumming before you,” he growled into your ear, his hand at your hip sliding between your legs, fastly circling his fingers on your clit, “Cum for me first baby, then I’ll breed this sweet cunt.” 

You moaned out his name, pulling even harder at his hair. 

You and Jake were filled with so much pleasure, both growing more sensitive at each other's touches. It took everything in Jake to not cum right here right now, using every bit of willpower he had to hold back from painting your walls with his seed. 

But Jake couldn’t hold on much longer, his will slipping. But you beat him to it, your climax rushing you so fast as you came around his dick, “Oh fuck,” he moaned, “M’cumming baby, going to breed you, fuck, fuck. Cumming, I’m cumming.” 

His hot cum filled you, his hips snapping into place against your ass, hands pulling you down onto him, making sure every ounce of cum spilled into you. 

Both your bodies shaking, Jake laid you down on the bed, his body gently laying on top of you, dick still inside. 

He rubbed his thumb against your jaw, placing soft kisses on your neck, “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.” 

You tilted your head, catching his lips with yours, “I love you so much too my sweet, sweet Jake.” 

—

You leaned your elbows to the table, fingers rubbing your temples. The room felt like it was spinning and that you were about to puke up your lunch and coffee that Shotaro just bought you. 

“YN? Princess?” he called you by your nickname, snapping his fingers in front of your face until you looked up at him, “Everything okay?” 

You just shook your head, “I feel like death.” 

Taro leaned back into his chair, taking a sip of his coffee, “You look like death too.” 

You roll your eyes, “Jeez, thanks Taro.” 

Shotaro just chuckled, the jazz music playing in the background of the coffee shop you frequent was soothing and relaxing. How could you feel like shit when this amazing music is filling your ears? 

You dropped your face into your palms, “I can’t really be getting sick again.” 

Shotaro started thinking, “Didn’t you have the flu last time?” you nodded, “Did you change out your toothbrush and get more toothpaste? Did Jake change out all that as well? What about Hee, Hoon, and Jay?” 

That was way too many questions for your brain to process, but you continued to nod anyway, “Yes to all that. Jay made sure everyone changed out everything and washed every blanket and sheets in the apartment.” 

“Do all five of you really just share food and drinks like that?” 

You shrug, “I’m siblings with one, grew up with them all and dating one of them, and been living with them for almost two years. I don’t think there is such a thing as not sharing in that apartment.” 

Taro just nodded, “And I know they didn’t get sick after you did.” 

You just nod again, too winded to even speak. 

Shotaro just kept running through everything in his head, the people who’ve been sick after or before you were before graduation. Hell, even Shotaro changed out toothbrush and toothpaste after he found out you had the flu. He wasn’t taking chances and you’ve eaten after each other a couple of times. 

But the more Taro tried to wrap his mind around it the more it hurt his brain, his own headache forming. The only thing he can see how you got sick is from passing some random stranger who was sick or…

Wait. 

“When was the last time you had sex with Jake?” 

You glance up at your best friend, narrowing your eyes, “You need to be more specific, we have sex all the time.” 

Taro bit down every ounce of nerves he had and begged you with his eyes to forgive the questions he was about to ask, “I mean, when was the last time he…you know…” 

You raised a brow, “Every time? I am on the pill,” you just stared at your best friend, “Taro what are you getting at?” 

He started playing the timeline in his head, from the moment you got sick with the flu, to graduation, and to now. If what he’s thinking is true…then. 

“It’s been about, what? six-seven weeks since you’ve graduated?” You nod, “Did you and Jake have sex that night?” 

You nod again but this time more confused and getting kinda angry that Shotaro was putting his nose into your sex life, “Taro, what does my sex life with Jake have any—“ 

And then it hit you. 

“It would make sense…” Taro whispered.

“But it can’t be?” you pull your hair back out of your face, eyes glued to your iced coffee on the table, watching as the ice floated more to the top. 

“YN, last question,” he took a deep breath, “What medication did they put you on for the flu? And does it affect taking birth control?” 

You just stared up at him. Every piece of the puzzle falls into place. 

The medication the doctors gave you to treat your flu would have countered your birth control pill, and since you were sick and obviously not having sex you skipped the pills until you took the last bit of medicine to treat the flu before taking them again. And the last day of your medicine for the flu was…two days after you graduated. 

Your eyes widened, “Holy shit.”

Shotaro sighed, “Yeah, holy shit,” and took another sip of his coffee, “You could be pregnant.” 

—

Jake sat at his work desk, eyes reading over the article on the new software his company was planning on launching within the next couple of months. His boss leaves Jake to take on the project alone to fix all the major issues with it. 

He leans back into his chair, thumbs rubbing over his eyes from staring at the computer screen for too long. 

Why did he choose software development out of everything he could have when it came to his major? Guess it’s too late now to change it. 

Jake can’t complain though, he makes BANK and the job comes so easy to him too. Plus he works the typical nine-five Monday-Thursday having Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off to do whatever he wants. Plus his co-workers and boss are great people. He has it made here. 

Jake’s mind gets taken off the article by his phone vibrating in multiple texts. 

Jay: did you piss off my sister?  Jay: because she just busted down the apartment door before storming off into your bedroom, paced around for like ten minutes before leaving the apartment again. 

Jake sighed, rubbing his eyes again. 

Jake: not that I know of… Jake: I haven’t spoken to her since this morning when I left for work. She was supposed to be with Taro today Jay: She just came back, seemed calmer this time tho. She has a grocery bag, guess she needed snacks?

Jake tossed his phone onto the desk, going back to the article. As much as he loves you and his best friend, whatever attitude problem you have right now, Jay could deal with or he would deal with when he gets back home. Jake tried to think of anything he could have done to upset you, but not thinking of a single thing. 

Jay: she’s pacing again.  Jay: well now she locked herself up in the bathroom.  Jake: dude, she’s your little sister. deal with it? Jay: your girlfriend tho buddy. you deal with it.  Jake: …I am working.  Jay: I’ve never seen her act like this before. something is wrong. 

Jake looked at the time, he was off in an hour. He texted Jay back saying he’ll talk to you once he’s home and left it at that. Jake had half a mind to call Shotaro and bug him about what happened. You seemed fine earlier besides a small headache. 

The clock ticked and chimed once it hit four o’clock, Jake jumped from his seat after shutting his PC down and practically skipping out of the building. 

He couldn’t make it home fast enough, his mind was only on you and if you were okay. He called Jay the minute he got off work for an update and he said you were still locked up in the bathroom. Jake was worried. 

He made his way up the steps to the apartment, fumbling around with his keys to unlock the door. Jay sat in the living room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands, a horror movie on the TV. 

“Is she still in the bathroom?” Jake mouthed to his friend, earning a nod from him. 

Jake walked up to the door, knocking softly, “Baby?” he called for you, trying to turn the knob to find it locked, “YN, sweetheart, baby what’s wrong? Unlock the door please.” 

After a sigh on the other side, you unlock the door and slightly open it and pull him in, then shut the door behind him. 

Jake’s hands were on you immediately, checking if you had a fever, runny nose, everything. 

“Hey,” he whispered, cupping your face with his hands at the look of shock, “What happened?” 

The first thing he assumed was Shotaro fucked up somehow. A pity really if that’s the case, Jake was just starting to like him. 

You look up at your boyfriend, debating where to start. 

“Remember when I got sick with the flu?” 

Jake nodded, rubbing his thumbs against your jawline, “How could I forget? Your brother went all clean freak on us and made us wash everything and replace everything.” 

“Do you remember the medication I was on?” 

Jake thought for a second, then nodded, “Yeah? Baby that was weeks ago.” 

“I had to stop taking my birth control because of it…” 

Jake looked at you in confusion, “I know? It would have canceled it out anyway. YN, stop beating around the bush, what happened?” 

Your eyes dart to the sink and Jake follows your gaze seeing the grocery bag, and five boxes of pregnancy tests sitting around the counter. 

Jake looked at the boxes, then back at you, then back at the boxes, “I’m confused?” 

You roll your eyes, “Jake, I was off my birth control for the entire time I took my flu medication. And didn’t get back on it until the last pill of the medicine was gone, which was two days after graduation.” 

He just raises a brow at you, waiting for you to continue. 

“We had sex the night I graduated when I was still off my birth control.” 

Those words. Those exact words were all it took for Jake to swallow and feel how dry his throat had become. 

“Are you sure?” 

You looked back down to the boxes, “I pissed on every single stick in those boxes, and every single one of them came back positive.” 

You had to be honest, you were scared to tell Jake. The two of you have always been so careful when it comes to sex. Always have condoms on standby just in case. You always made sure to take your birth control pill on time every single day. And well shit, you both even still carried around Plan B’s as a backup. 

Jake was shaking and his heart was racing, “You’re pregnant?” you nod, waiting for him to get upset. Waiting for him to sink down onto the floor and laugh it off that you’re lying, to call your bluff. But he didn’t, his eyes softened, and the corners of his lips curled, “I’m going to be a daddy?” 

You nodded again, your lips also moving into a smile, “You’re going to be a daddy, Jake.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile that grew. Like wow, you’re pregnant? He’s going to be a father? You’re going to be a mother? Jake will get to raise a baby with you. Get to grow this little family even more. 

Jake pulled you into a kiss, arms wrapping tightly around you, “I love you so much,” he whispered between kisses, “I can’t believe it.” 

“Well you better believe it,” you kissed him again, “And I love you so much too.”

Jake sank down to his knees, placing his hands on your waist and kissing all over your tummy, “I am so happy right now.” 

Before you could respond, the bathroom door opened, “Hey I heard laughing, is everything okay now?” 

You stared wide eyed at your brother as he looked down at Jake on his knees. You could see the gears turning in your brother's brain, thinking he walked into a sexual act about to happen. 

He turned to leave, opening his mouth to make a smart retort when he saw the boxes in the sink. Jay looked at every single one before going back to you, down at Jake, back to the boxes…then the light bulb lit up above his head, face now tensed as he looked at you, then at Jake again. Jake awkwardly smiled up at your brother. 

“You got to be fucking joking.” was all your brother said. 

—

You and Jake sat on the couch, arms crossed as you both stared up at your brother pacing back and forth in the living room. 

“You’re going to cause a draft,” Jake finally said, trying hard to not laugh, but stopping his smile when Jay stopped pacing and looked at him. 

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around this,” Jay said, rubbing his temples as if he had the worst headache. 

You stare down at the boxes that now sit on the coffee table. Jay looked at every single piss stick in those boxes more than five times each as if the answer on it would change. You found it funny, hilarious even. Jay was acting as if he were the one growing a human life. 

Jake sat forward, narrowing his eyes in confusion, “Brother what is there to wrap your head around? She’s pregnant.” 

Jay slid his hands down his face, the stress showing on his face as he glared at your boyfriend, your happy mood faltered. You could read him like a book, “Jay, what’s really going on?”

Your brother let out a sigh before dropping his hands at his side, “I’m going to be an uncle?” he chuckled, his hands finding their way back to his face and then in his hair, “Like wow, my baby sister is pregnant with my best friend. I’m going to be an uncle…” Jay repeated those words a few more times before the worried look turned into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him make, “I’m going to be a fucking uncle!!” 

You smiled as wide as he did, standing from the couch and rushing to your brother and hugging him. Jay squeezed you so tight, rocking you back and forth as his laughter filled your ears, “Seongie, you’re literally going to be the best uncle ever.” 

“Fuck yeah I am,” he said, laughing even more, then turning to look at Jake, “You going to just sit on the couch? Get your ass up and join this family hug.” 

Family. Jay was officially his family. The term brother would mean more now than just being super close. Jay will be the uncle to his child. The big family Jake always wanted was finally within his reach and who would have guessed it would be with the people who were his second family growing up. 

Jake bounced from the couch, embracing you and Jay in his arms, joining the laughter that filled the apartment and still laughing even after you three pulled away. 

“God, I can’t believe you let him get you pregnant stinks,” Jay teased, flicking your forehead with his fingers. 

“It was an accident!” Jake defended himself, “Not my fault your sister is like a sex goddess.” 

“Dude,” Jay rolled his eyes, “That’s my sister I don’t want to hear that,” Jake just smiled at him, already loving the way he was going to tease the hell out of Jay through this pregnancy, “Anyways, when did this happen?” 

Jake was the confused one now. Jay literally was just on his ass about speaking about his sex life with his little sister, but now he’s asking when it happened? 

“Are you really asking me when I boned your sister that impregnated her?” 

Jay shrugged his shoulders, “Well when you say it like that…” 

You just looked at Jake, trying to not laugh at the obvious embarrassment on his face. Usually, the roles are reversed, but guess Jay pulled a fast one on him this time. 

“It was my graduation night,” you said for Jake, “Would you like to know the details since you want to be so nosey?” 

“God no shut up!” your brother scoffed, “I didn’t actually want to know I just wanted to tease Jake. Jesus fucking Christ.” 

Jake awkwardly chuckled with a shake of his head, “Now we just have to tell Heeseung, Sunghoon, Shotaro, my brother, and both our parents.” 

“Taro already knows.” 

Jake raised a brow at you, “He knew before me? Before Jay?” 

You just shrugged, “Taro was the one who suggested I might be pregnant. I was feeling sick earlier this morning, it was the only logical explanation.” 

That…makes a lot of sense. 

And as if speaking of the devils manifested them into existence, Heeseung and Sunghoon arrived back at the apartment, snapping at each other over the flavor of pop tarts and which one was better. Both their hands were filled with groceries. 

“Oh!” Heeseung scoffed, “Nice to know you three were home and ignoring your cell phones! Would have been nice to get some help.” 

Sunghoon nodded with a click of his tongue, “Yeah, would it have helped to not have been so lazy?” 

You crossed your arms, eyes darting between the two of them. You glanced down at the coffee table with the pregnant test boxes, and stepped off to the side giving them both a better view, “We were kinda busy with something important.” 

Sunghoon noticed what the boxes were immediately, his eyes widening and mouth slightly open. 

Heeseung tossed the bags of groceries into the solo recliner chair and picked up one of the boxes, “What could have been so important you’d ignore your best friends…for…” 

Heeseung looked over the box for a couple seconds before tearing it open and taking the test out (obviously holding the end you didn’t piss on), eyes widening at the positive marks. 

“You’re pregnant?!” Heeseung shouted, his voice filled with so much excitement as he looked up at you, eyes sparkling with the happiness he was feeling for you and Jake.

You smiled, giving him a nod, “Yeah, I’m pregnant!” 

“Holy fucking shit!” Heeseung shouted, tossing the stick and box back onto the coffee table and pulling you into a hug, “Congratulations stinks!” 

Sunghoon was right beside you, dropping the groceries to the floor and pulling you into him, “You’re growing up so fast!” 

“Oh, fuck off!” you pinched his bicep, and all Sunghoon could do was laugh. 

“I am so happy for you, YN,” he said, eyes darting over to Jay, “You’re going to be an uncle my dude!!”

“I know!” Jay shouted with the same excitement as his friends, “I mean, you two will be uncles too, since you’re practically family.”

Heeseung’s jaw dropped to the floor, “I’d be Uncle Hee!!” 

Jake watched as the most important people in his life laughed, shouted, cried out of pure happiness, and hugged each other. His heart was so full and so warm. He had the best non-biological brothers surrounding him. Had the best girlfriend who was now carrying his child. Had a good ass job that helped pay the bills and help support you and the baby. What more could he ask for?

Jake continued to watch his family, picturing a miniature you/him running around the apartment. Picturing Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon being the best uncles in the world as they play, laugh, love, and care for his future child. 

That thought alone also sunk Jake’s heart, “Guys,” he said, everyone turning and looking at him. Jake had the realization that the apartment was made to fit four people. There are five people standing in this living room and You had a baby on the way, “This place is about to get a lot more crowded.” 

— 

You lay on the couch, two fingers pressed into your cunt. Your other hand slid underneath your shirt, squeezing your breast and twisting your nipple between your thumb and index fingers. 

Nobody else was home, all four boys were at work and Shotaro couldn’t hang out with you. 

What better way to pass the time than to touch yourself? You weren’t fortunate enough to have gotten a job after graduating and now that you were pregnant, Jay and especially Jake, were against you getting a job right now.  

“You’re pregnant, you don’t need to work right now,” Jay said, taking your laptop from your hands to keep from applying to any more jobs. 

“I’m pregnant, not disabled!” You snapped, “Let me do something besides sit at the apartment all day.” 

“Yeah, and if you get a job you’ll be on pregnancy leave shortly after getting it. Might as well just wait.” Jay retorted back. 

“Baby,” Jake said, kneeling down beside you, his hand resting on your belly, “You’re already doing enough by growing life inside of you. Please just wait until after you have the baby.” 

You looked to Heeseung and Sunghoon for support, they just shook their heads, hands raised up, “Not my circus, not my monkeys,” was all Heeseung could say, with a small snicker of laughter from Sunghoon. 

Traitors. 

You glanced down at your belly, baby bump now fully on display as the little speck of life grew more and more every day. 

You were at the end of the first trimester and the beginning of your second trimester, your baby bump was obvious that you were pregnant, but with your clothes, no one would ever know unless you told them. The morning sickness came and went as it pleased, your weird food cravings kicked in a bit, and all four boys started being more careful around you. Helping you sit down and stand up as if you all of a sudden couldn’t do that on your own, always grabbing things for you instead of you getting it yourself. You weren’t that far along in the pregnancy, you didn’t need that kind of help right now but took the help anyway. You knew you couldn’t get out of it. 

You flung your head back onto the pillow, pumping your fingers faster and squeezing your breast tighter. 

You breathed in harder, arching your back at the pleasure. You glanced at the clock on the wall, Jake should be coming home for lunch at any minute, bringing the takeout you requested as your food craving of the day. 

But you got horny while waiting for him, and now here you are, waiting for him to come home to help finish you off and then eat your lunch. 

The sound of the keys sliding into the lock made you jolt, your cunt clenching tightly against your fingers, not being able to wait any longer, you needed Jake. 

“Hey baby,” Jake called from the front door, kicking his shoes off before stepping in, “I have your lunch.” 

You tried to call out to him but lost your breath in a small gasp. 

Jake heard the gasp, and thinking something was wrong, he quickly rushed around the corner from the hallway, stopping at the sight of you, him nearly slipping on the hard floor at seeing your legs spread with your fingers pumping in and out, Your fucked out facial expressions and other hand massaging your tits. 

He was hard almost immediately, “Oh baby, fuck,” he hissed, his hand palming at himself through his jeans, “Look at you.” 

“Jaeyun,” you whined, barely being able to speak, “I need you,” 

Jake left the bag of food on the solo recliner chair, sliding his jacket from his body and tossing it to the floor, “Yeah baby? What do you need me to do?” 

“Touch me,” you whimpered, “Please do something.” 

Jake slid onto the couch in front of you, tossing your legs over his shoulders and replacing your fingers with his, using his other hand to grip the top of the couch as he hovered over you carefully. You shut your eyes and furrowed your brows, mouth opening wide and letting out a wet moan as the feeling of his fingers slid into you, “Feels good baby? Couldn’t wait until I got home to touch yourself?” 

You nodded, “I needed to do something, was too horny.” 

Jake bit his lip and pumped his fingers faster into you. The last thing he was expecting to see when he came home was you sprawled out on the couch so wet and ready for him. Jake has only seen you this needy a handful of times, it was a once in a once-in-a-blue-moon kinda thing but oh god was he loving it. 

Seeing you so needy only made himself needy too and removed his fingers from your cunt, “Jae—“

“Shhh baby,” he whispered, “Sit up a bit for me, ya?” 

You nodded, pulling yourself up into your elbows and scooting up a bit onto the couch arm. Jake laid himself between your legs, lifting your hips up a bit to give him a better angle at your pussy. 

Your hands gripped the cushions of the couch at feeling his tongue flatting against your hole, “Fuck, Jake!” 

His chuckles sent vibrations up your whole body and made you shiver. His tongue licked streaks up and down your cunt, twirling the muscle around your clit and back down and up again. Repeating the process a few times before sliding his tongue into your pussy, shoving the muscle so far into your hole his nose was now rubbing against your clit. 

You chanted his name, knuckles turning white from the death grip you had on the couch, squeezing your thighs against Jake’s head. He moaned into your cunt, bucking his hips into the couch to feel some kind of friction on his cock, his hands gripped your hips tighter, thumbs rubbing circles at the edge of your belly. 

The more you squeezed his head between your legs, the more he knew you were fixing to burst, working his tongue faster and angling his face to the side a bit in a tilt, opening his mouth wider to shove his tongue further into your pussy and wrapping his lips around your hole, digging his nose a bit harder against your clit. 

“Jaeyun!” you pant, “Jake, I’m going to cum.” 

Jake hummed against your heat, only removing himself to let out a “Cum on my tongue for me baby,” then reattaching himself to your cunt, eating you out like you were the last meal he’d ever get. 

And it made you come undone, your cum coating his tongue. Jake took a deep breath through his nose, licking your pussy completely clean, taking all your cum into his mouth and swallowing it, “Fuck you taste so good.”

Your chest raised and fell at hitting your high, flinging your arm over your forehead, taking more deep breaths. 

You look down at your boyfriend, seeing the look in his eyes as he licks his lips, still soaking up your leftover juices on his mouth, “Turn to your side,” You roll over, watching him unbuckle his belt and pants, sliding them down and off his body. Jake squeezes himself between you and the couch, “Lift your leg over mine.” 

You wrapped your leg over his hip and tucked it between him and the couch. His tip lined up with your entrance, and slowly slid into you, “Fuckkkk,” he moaned in your ear as he bottomed out, “You feel so good.” 

Jake thrust into you slowly, wanting to savor every ounce of pleasure he could get before having to return back to work, but that plan failed as you backed your ass into his hips and reached a hand behind you to grasp his hair, “Fuck me harder,” you begged, “Babe please.” 

His body shuddered, hand gripping your hip and bucked his hips faster, the sound of skin-to-skin filling the quiet of the apartment. 

Jake glances down, watching as his hips thrust into you, watching the way your body moves in sync with his. His eyes wandered higher, seeing the baby bump. He carefully places his hand on your belly and snapped his cock further inside you, holding it there to rub against your cervix, “You’re so sexy pregnant,” he growled in your ear then started fucking into you again, “Should have bred this pussy so much sooner.” 

You pulled at his hair, “Yeah, you should have.” 

Jake was losing his mind. Something about fucking his sexy as fuck pregnant girlfriend on the couch in such a tight space made him dizzy. He couldn’t be as rough and manhandle you as he normally would, but fuck this was still so hot and pleasuring as if he was being rough with you. 

Your grip on his hair yanked harder, sending Jake over the edge and filling your cunt completely with his cum, his hand now at your thigh as he squeezed it tightly as he continued to pump his cock in and out, letting your pussy milk him completely. 

Out of breath, Jake lays his head on top of yours, hand sliding from your thigh and down back to your belly, thumb drawing little circles. 

You placed your hand on top of his and leaned more into him, “You really think I’m sexy pregnant?” 

Jake chuckled, “Of course I do, I’ll always find you sexy.” And it was true. He’ll never not find you sexy. 

He continued to run his hand over your belly, yours following on top of his, tracing the outline of your naval then sliding down on the underbelly then your hips, and back up. 

“I still can’t believe you’re growing a life,” Jake whispered, “Growing our baby.” 

You lifted your head up to look at him, smiling at him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “And it’s all thanks to your sperm that got past all the female's defenses to find the egg.” 

Jake softly giggles at your medical terminology and presses his lips back to yours. 

He was really still in disbelief. You went from that little girl he grew up with and would tease to his girlfriend and being madly in love and pregnant with his child. Jake was truly so blessed to have found his soulmate so early on in life. 

“I love you,” he said between kisses, his hand softly squeezing your belly, “I’m so lucky to have you.” 

“I love you too,” you smiled so warmly at him, sliding a finger down his jaw. 

Jake pressed one last kiss to your lips, “Let’s eat, I’m still starving after my first meal.” 

You giggled, being so thankful for him. 

—

“What about this one?” Heeseung asked, holding up the ugliest orange shirt you’ve ever seen. You scrunch your nose, “Hard pass, got it,” he said, placing the shirt back onto the rack. 

You were thankful Heeseung came along with you to do some much-needed shopping. Your baby bump was no longer easy to hide and all the clothes you’d normally wear no longer fit. Well, they did but felt way too tight. 

You practically tore your and Jake’s bedroom apart trying to find any piece of clothing that would fit comfortably that wasn’t one of Jake’s hoodies or sweatpants. Heeseung just so happened to be walking out of his bedroom and crossing the hall and almost got hit in the face by a pair of flying jeans. Which is how you now ended up at the mall with him doing much-needed clothing shopping. 

“You need some more color in your closet though,” Heeseung said, shifting through all the shirts on the rack, “You can’t just keep having white, black, and red, YN.” 

You pouted, “I have other colors!” 

Heeseung glared at you, “The few blues, purples, and greens don’t count. You have more black shirts than anything else, you little emo. Even Jake has more colors than you.” 

You wanted to fight back but knew you couldn’t. Heeseung was right. 

“And check this one out,” He pulled a really pretty lavender shirt from the rack, holding it up against your chest, “I think it looks good!” 

You nodded, actually really loving the color, “Put it in the cart,” 

Heeseung’s eyes sparkled as he placed it into the cart with the other mixtures of jeans, leggings, dresses, bras, panties, and socks, all for you. 

You watched as he moved onto another clothing rack, watching as he pushed the cart for you. You couldn’t hide the smile that was forming on your lips as you looked at him with endearment. If he was willing to do all this for you, his best friend's girlfriend, and his other best friend's little sister, while pregnant, you could only imagine how well he’d treat his future girlfriend and wife. Heeseung would make a fine husband someday. 

“Seungie, you sure you don’t mind doing all this?” you felt somewhat guilty. Jake should be here too, picking out clothes for you. But unfortunately, going and watching Formula One races with your brother at the sports bar was in his deck of cards today. You even called Jake earlier and told him the plans you made with Heeseung and he didn’t even bat an eye at it. 

“Why would I mind?” he questioned, taking a pink long sleeve off the rack and holding it up to you, “Yeah pink is definitely your color while pregnant,” then tossed the fabric into the cart. 

“Because you literally helped me shop for bras and underwear?” 

Heeseung shrugged his shoulders as he continued to flip through the clothing rack, “They are just clothes, YN. I’ve done your laundry plenty of times, and have walked in on you and Jake undressing each other enough times. We’ve grown up together, shopping for undergarments with you doesn’t bother me at all.” 

Your heart filled with the love you have for him, wanting to pull him into a tight hug and kiss his cheek. Heeseung was definitely that second older brother you never had. 

But you decided to use this time to tease him. You don’t get to tease Heeseung often, he was always one step ahead but this might be your chance. 

“Jake might think differently after finding out you helped shop for lace bras and panties for me when it should be his eyes only.” 

Heeseung chuckled, holding up a black long-sleeve and then tossing it to the cart, “Then maybe he needs to find better hiding places to smell your panties with.” 

Your smile fell, “He does what?” 

Heeseung let out a loud laugh, “YN, I’m joking, you can’t try to tease me and expect me to not clap back.” 

Always one step ahead as usual. 

“Besides, I’ve only ever caught him with your panties once and that was before you moved in with us and he was definitely NOT smelling them, that’s for sure.” 

You knew about how Heeseung caught Jake rubbing one out with a pair of your dark blue panties that were Jake’s absolutely favorite pair. You saw Jake steal them from your drawer before he took that drive back home and confronted him before he could even step foot out the door of your dorm. Jake wasn’t a panty sniffer, but he sure used to be a stealer. You remember how Jake called you not even five minutes after Heeseung walked in on him. You thought it was the funniest thing. 

“Jake honestly probably wouldn’t care anyways,” you shrugged, following behind Heeseung as he moved into another section of clothes, “He’d just be happy someone was here with me.” 

Heeseung agreed, “He’s been so protective over you since finding out you were pregnant. He made me and Sunghoon swear to look after you if he and Jay weren’t around to do so. Never seen the man that protective, and you know how he is over his ramen.” 

Getting Jake to share his ramen is a hard thing to do, even with you. He had a bowl the other night and you had to beg for him to share and even pulled the pregnancy card to get him to share it, which he didn’t do by the way, “Just because you’re pregnant doesn't mean I’ll share my ramen. Fuck off.” Asshole. 

Heeseung continued, “You really make him happy, YN.” You nodded. You knew you did. Jake never goes without telling you, “You know, I was a bit jealous at first.” 

You raised a brow in confusion at him, “What are you talking about, ace?” 

Heeseung sighed, picking up another shirt, then placing it back on the rack, refusing to make eye contact with you, “When we first saw you again after all that time during winter vacation, you had all our hearts dropping, just so you know. It wasn’t just Jake’s.” 

You knew the feeling was mutual, seeing Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon all grown up made your heart flutter. They were good-looking men, they still are, there’s no denying that. 

“We knew from the beginning that Jake’s heart kinda dropped a bit harder than ours did,” he continued, “Don’t worry about Jake finding out about this conversation, he already knows,” you nodded, waiting for him to continue, “I woke up one night and saw Jake sneaking out of the guest room, I think it was the very first time he did so. I sat up after the door was closed only to see Sunghoon was staring at the door as well. We knew exactly where he went. We stayed up discussing it. About what we should do about it. We knew Jay would kill him and then kill us if he ever found out we knew.” 

Ouch, guess you and Jake suck at hiding, “Does my brother and Jake know you two knew?” 

Heeseung nodded, “They do now. The four of us had a good long talk on that drive back to the apartment, but at first no.” 

Makes sense. 

“Anyway, Hoon and I just decided to keep it to ourselves. Mostly because, well, our own feelings were conflicted. You weren’t completely the same little girl we grew up with. We were mostly just attracted to you, that’s how far our feelings went really. I was jealous Jake had the balls to go after you even after Jay was being his crazy protective brother self,” Heeseung laughed, “Jake was really crazy for crossing that line. Had major balls. But after he snuck back into the guest room that night and saw how wide his smile was at breakfast that following morning, you became off limits not just because of Jay, but also Jake. Hoon and I decided to drop the attraction, don’t get me wrong, you’re still as pretty as ever, but you went back to being our little sister super quick.” 

You just smiled at him, you found it cute that the three stooges all had some little crush on you at some point. Funny even. Jake just happened to be your soulmate from the beginning, they all knew that too. 

“Anyway,” Heeseung said again, finding a blue top with a flower graphic design, “I think we have enough clothes picked out for you,” he said as he tossed the article of clothing for you into the cart, “How about you help me find some new outfits for you now?” him giving you his heart lipped smile. 

You nodded, it was the least you could do, plus you both were already here. 

Heeseung continued to push the cart as you found clothes for him. It was his turn to watch you with such endearment. Heeseung doesn’t know why he decided to tell you about the small and very short-lived crush he used to have on you. Maybe it was because you looked so pretty today. With how your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and wearing Jake’s hoodie and sweatpants. It was way too cute. You’ve worn Jake’s clothes even before he got you pregnant, but it was still cute. Made him think that this is how his future wife will look once pregnant. But looking at you made Heeseung happy because you were happy. Jake made you happy and you made Jake happy. Which obviously made everyone else happy. 

Heeseung watched as you picked him out a bright pink shirt, leaning on his elbows on the cart, his eyes wandering down to your belly, his smile growing wider, “I can’t wait to become an uncle.” 

—

Jake and Jay clinked their beer glasses together as they cheered for their racing team, chugging down the liquid. Then asking the bartender for another refill. They clinked their glasses again, chugged it down, and got another refill. 

Jake and Jay’s phone buzzed, Heeseung texting the “and they were roommates” group chat. 

Jay took a few sips of his beer, ignoring the chat so Jake looked instead. 

“Hee and YN are back home,” Jake said, and Jay nodded, “Hee also said to let either him or Sunghoon know if we need someone to come get us.” 

It was usually this way if any of the boys went out without the others. Everyone is always on standby if anyone gets too drunk. And if all of them went out together, one person wouldn’t drink or drink as much to be the driver home. It was a perfect system. 

Jay took a few more sips of his beer then set the glass on the table, “How did YN's doctor appointment go yesterday?” 

Jake brought the glass to his lips, “Everything is good. She’s healthy, the baby is healthy. That’s all I could ask for,” he took a few sips of the beer and trained his eyes back to the TV with the race on it. 

“Do you know the gender yet?” Jay asked curiously. Jay has been thinking about that a lot lately. If he’ll have a niece or nephew? Will they have more of the Park genetics or the Sim genetics or an equal mixture of both? Will he be a good uncle? God, he hopes so. 

Jake just shakes his head, “YN wants to wait until she has the baby, wants it to be a big surprise. Should have seen her face when the doctor tried to tell her the gender. She held her hands up so fast and straight up told the doctor to keep her mouth shut.” 

Jake chuckles at the memory, he thought you were going to fight the doctor over it. Thank god you didn’t. 

Jay relaxes in his seat, studying his best friend, “Are you nervous?” 

Jake narrows his eyes and releases a huff, taking another sip of the beer, “Oh what? Nothing to be nervous over.” 

Jay could see right through Jake. He knows his best friend like the back of his hand, he can see it all over Jake’s face that the further along you got in your pregnancy, the more nervous he got. Jay really noticed Jake’s shakiness after returning from the appointment yesterday. 

“To be a dad. Nervous about wanting to take care of my sister, and wanting the pregnancy to go smoothly. Bro, I can see it all over your face. You vowed to stop drinking and partying after she got pregnant, yet you were the first one tonight to order alcohol.” 

Jake just shakes his head, “I want to be the perfect dad. I want to take care of YN through the whole pregnancy. I want our baby to be healthy. I’m scared man.” 

Jay nods, slowly rocking his body with the nod, “I’m nervous too.” 

Jake raised a brow, clearly confused. 

Jay continued, “I lived for protecting my sister, that obviously hasn’t changed, but I always tried and wanted to be the perfect older brother for her. I knew once the day came that she started popping out kids that I wanted to be a perfect uncle and protect her kids as I did her. But I also feel like I haven’t been the best or perfect brother. That I didn’t try hard enough and now I’m scared I’ll fail as an uncle.” 

“Are you fucking serious?” Jake snapped, causing Jay to widen his eyes at him, “You’re not a failure of a brother. You never failed YN and you won’t ever fail her. You did perfectly to protect her, trust me, as someone who got caught sneaking around with her, you do a pretty damn good job at it. And you won’t fail our child either. I promise you that. You’ll be a perfect uncle.” 

Jay tried to keep his eyes clear as he nodded, never wanting to admit that Jake’s words gave him the ego boost he needed. 

So he raised his glass, “To our little family.” 

Jake smiled, raising his glass as well, “To our little family.” 

“Including Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Shotaro, because YN would kill us both if we left them out.” 

Jake nodded in agreement, “Amen to that brotha.” 

“Thank you…for helping me take care of my sister,” Jay chuckled, “She doesn’t just have to deal with me trying to protect her.” 

“Trust me,” Jake rolled his eyes, “She hates it.” 

“Well YN gotta deal I guess.” Jay shrugged but also laughed. 

Jay had to admit he finally and fully was able to accept Jake in your life. He always accepted him, it just took a little bit longer to be one hundred percent okay with it. To be completely used to seeing you wrapped in Jake’s arms. Because now when you weren’t by Jake, it was weird and didn’t sit right. Jay honestly was so thankful you chose Jake. Because if you chose any other loser male out there, Jay wouldn’t be as accepting. No one is good enough for his sister besides Jake. Point blank. Plus, you were pregnant with Jake’s baby, and Jay kinda had no choice but to fully accept Jake into the family. 

They chugged down their drinks and got another refill, paying back attention to the race and knocking their sad attitudes away. 

“You know,” Jay said after some time, “We’re both fucked if you have a girl.” 

Jake groaned and dropped his face into his hands, “Don’t fucking remind me, I’ve already thought about it.” 

Jay chuckled some more, chugging down his alcohol. If you did have a girl, he already knows his protection level will skyrocket. And since Jake will be the baby’s father…oh all hell would break loose. That baby wouldn’t just have to deal with an overprotective father, but an overprotective uncle. Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to know the gender yet, you knew what would happen the minute everyone found out. 

And honestly, it wouldn’t just be him and Jake losing their brains over you having a girl. Heeseung and Sunghoon would also protect that child with their lives. The two of them are already helping you around the apartment and watching your every move. It’ll just be worse once the baby is here. 

Jay shook Jake’s shoulders, “Come on man, lighten up! Just focus on the fact you’re going to be one kick-ass of a dad!” 

That lifted Jake’s spirits, “Yeah? Think so?” 

Jay nodded, “Yeah. Because if you aren’t I’ll beat you myself. YN will be right behind me too.” 

Jake just rolls his eyes, “Whatever man.” 

The two of them laughed and continued to watch the race and enjoy each other's company. 

Heeseung had his arm wrapped around Jake, and Sunghoon had his arm wrapped around Jay, helping the two of them walk out of the bar. 

You had your arms crossed as you leaned against the car, watching for your boyfriend and brother to come into view. Your heart relaxes once the sight of Heeseung and Sunghoon dragging them out comes into view. 

“Damn, how much did they drink?” You asked, your eyes glancing back and forth between the two drunks. 

Sunghoon scoffed, “Who knows, but we told them to not get so fucking hammered.” 

“But our racer won!” Jake smiles, letting out a hiccup then his eyes focused on you, “Baby!” 

Jay looked up at you, realizing Hee and Hoon left you outside, his protectiveness and rage coming in, “You left my pregnant sister outside by HERSELF?!” 

Jake then realized it himself too, “You left my pregnant girlfriend outside by HERSELF?!” 

“Oh shut the fuck up!” Heeseung snapped, “I tried to usher you both out of the bar by myself but I needed help. YN was told to stay INSIDE the car.” 

You just shrugged, “I can hold my own.” 

“You’re pregnant!!” Jake and Jay both said in unison.

“Yeah! Pregnant! Not disabled!” 

Jake lifted himself from Heeseung and walked to you, taking your chin between his fingers and his other hand resting on your tummy, “You and this baby are the most important things to me, if something were to happen to you two…I…” 

You relaxed your body and placed your hands on your boyfriend's face, you knew he was just being protective. Same with your brother. You knew you were the most important thing to them, the least you could do was respect their wishes when it comes to protecting you. 

“I am okay,” you reassured him, looking at your brother and repeating the words, “Heeseung and Sunghoon wouldn’t have left me alone if they didn’t think it was okay.” 

“Trust me,” Sunghoon said, trying to keep Jay from slipping out of his hold, “We didn’t want to leave her in the car.” 

“Can we discuss this at home?” Jay said, hanging his head low, “I think I drank way too much.” 

“You don’t fucking say?!” Heeseung scoffed, helping Sunghoon with Jay. 

“I’ll drive Jay’s car back,” Sunghoon said, “Help me get him in then we can head back. I think YN has Jake fine.” 

You nodded, eyes darting to your brother, “Take care of him.” 

You got Jake in the car, him laying his head on your shoulder, cuddling up to you. 

Heeseung returns quickly and jumps in the driver's seat of his car, “Let’s get home guys, I’m exhausted.” 

You watched Jake’s hand through the street lamps and moonlight as his thumb rubbed your thigh then shifted up and placed his whole hand on your pregnant stomach. 

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he says softly, taking a deep breath and snuggling more into you. You rest your head against the top of his, smiling. You could already tell Jake would be a fantastic father. 

You kissed his forehead, whispering, “I love you.” 

—

You moaned softly into Jake’s mouth as he slowly pumped into you. 

The early morning sun beats down onto the bed, making his skin shine beautifully. 

Jake slides his tongue down your mouth, his hand moving up and down your bare back, stopping to squeeze your ass, moving down to your leg wrapped over his hip, and squeezing your thigh before moving back up and repeating the process. 

You were now about halfway done with your pregnancy. Your little sprout of life grows perfectly and healthy every single day, which made having sex with Jake a bit harder now that the baby has grown so big. 

But that didn’t stop you two, obviously. 

Jake woke you up this morning with kisses to your neck, and his fingers sliding down your shorts, “I need you so bad right now.” 

The sex wasn’t rough but filled with so much love. It was soft, lazy, passionate, and just so so much love. 

His hand stopped at your hip and squeezed it tightly, “I want to get so rough with you, fuck,” he whispers, “I need to cum.” 

You remove yourself from him, sliding his cock out and rolling over to your other side, backing your ass into his hips, “Then get rough with me babe.” 

Jake hissed, quickly shoving his cock back into your cunt, snapping his hips fast against your ass. 

“Fuck baby, can never get enough of this pussy.” 

You could tell Jake was losing himself in your heat. He hasn’t been able to be rough like he normally wanted to, being too afraid that he would hurt you. 

Jake leaned more into your back, pressing you into the sheets as he fucked into you at a primal rate. His fingers slipping between your legs and rubbing your clit at the same pace. 

You bit into the fabric of your pillow to suppress your moans, not wanting to wake anyone else up in the apartment. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white. 

You missed how rough Jake could get. Missed him pressing your face into the pillows. Even though this wasn’t the full extent of roughness that he could do, you still ate up every ounce of what he was giving you right now. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, “You’re doing so good for me, taking my cock so well even though you’re pregnant.” 

You felt your climax reach its peak, Jake groaning at feeling you cum on his cock. He was literally on cloud 9. And the fact you’re letting him get even the smallest amount of rough with you was driving him crazy. 

Jake would be lying if he said he didn’t google sex positions to use while being pregnant and read plenty of articles on it too. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. 

Jake also read how some girlfriends/wives completely took sex off the table when they found out they were pregnant. He was so fucking blessed that you had just as high a sex drive as he did. Jake would lose his mind if you wouldn’t let him have a taste of that sweet pussy of yours for nine months. His hand would only get him so far before his crumpling at your feet begging you to let him fuck you. So again yeah, he thanked god you were just as addicted to his cock as he was to your pussy. 

Not to mention the position he has you in right now was so sexy to him. He was still able to press your face into the pillows and rail you from behind, getting to see how his cock moves inside you, watching how your cum wraps a white ring around his cock. Get to see every facial expression you make while hitting your G-spot. What’s not to love about it? Plus you’re comfortable and it wasn’t affecting your belly at all. 

“Hmm I’m fixing to cum baby,” he growls, “Going to fill this cunt to the brim.” 

“Pleaseeee,” you beg, wanting nothing more than to feel his cum stain your insides. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed, licking the shell of your ear and then biting the lobe as he came. His strings of white rope filled you completely, “Fuck…fuck,” he moaned, trying to catch his breath. 

Jake kissed your temple before pulling out and removing himself from the bed. You rolled over and watched his naked figure dig in his dresser for a clean pair of boxers and socks, slipping them onto his body then grabbing his favorite pair of jeans that he wears to work, along with his white striped button-up. 

You sat up in bed, pulling the covers over your naked body, now cold from the loss of your boyfriend pressed against you. 

“You should call out,” you softly said. 

Jake chuckles as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his sneakers onto his feet, “I would if I could my love, I need every time saved up to use once you give birth.” 

You groaned and pouted but knew it wouldn’t get you your way. Knowing he couldn’t actually call out. Mostly when he wanted to take off a couple of days around your due date just in case he needed to rush you to the hospital. And then there’s the first few weeks he wants to spend with you after the baby arrives. He couldn’t take off at all and the only reason his leave got approved by his boss was because he promised to show up every single day before you gave birth no matter what. Yet you still pouted anyway. 

“What will I do while you’re gone?” 

“Why don’t you see if one of the other guys can hang out with you?” Jake wanted to call out. Wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with you all day. But he has a future child and a girlfriend to feed and spoil, he kind of needed to work. 

“I already asked them,” You cross your arms, “Heeseung also has to work, Sunghoon is spending the day with his sister, and Jay is too busy finishing up his culinary degree online to step away.” 

“Have you called Shotaro? I’m sure he’d love to see you.” 

Your eyes lit up, remembering that Taro had the day off today, “Yeah I’ll give him a call.” 

Jake smiled at you, “Just make sure to be careful okay?” he asked, placing his hand over your growing belly, “Don’t do anything you know you can’t do, let Shotaro help.” 

You rolled your eyes, being as stubborn as ever. 

“I’ll call and tell himself—“

“Okay!” you said, “I’ll behave.” 

“Good,” Jake pulls you in for a couple of kisses, then kisses your forehead, “I’ll see you when I get off. I love you.”

“I love you too meanie head!” 

Then you watched him walk out of the bedroom. 

—

“What do you mean you don’t want a baby shower?” Taro asked, brows furrowed as his fingers rapidly pressed the buttons on his PS5 controller, the sounds of the boss he was fighting and killed on Elden Ring filled his sound system, “Yes!!!” 

You slouched down onto his couch, watching as his character now ran out of the castle, “Didn’t you beat this game already?” 

“Hmm,” he hummed, still focused on the game, “But I am doing a different build this time.” 

You just sighed, continuing to watch your best friend play his video game, the ice in his coffee on the table to his right slowly melting away. 

“Are you going to answer my question?” 

You groaned, “Ughhh Jay was on my ass about this too the other day,” you pouted, and decided it was time to sit up. Taro quickly set the controller down to his set and helped you sit up, “I don’t want a baby shower because I don’t really have any girlfriends, and even so I don’t know the gender of the baby, so I don’t want to get a bunch of pointless gifts. Jake and I decided we would just probably have a small get-together after our child is born and we all go shopping for stuff then.” 

Shotaro nodded, making sure you were sitting up comfortably before grabbing his controller again, and going back to the game, “I guess that is a bit easier and less planning out. Totally sounds like a you thing to do though. Why would Jay get onto you for it?

You shrugged, “I think he’s more nervous than I am and wants an excuse to drink.” 

Shotaro laughed, “Yeah, I’ve noticed the lack of Lee, Parks, and Sim at parties.” 

Which Taro understood completely. Everyone was an adult and you were pregnant, none of the four men wanted to leave you alone at the apartment while they went out. Even if they wanted to, Taro always offered to sit with you, but I think the reality check hit each of them hard after finding out you were pregnant, kinda sending them to a more sober life. 

“Those four really took attached at the hip seriously huh?” 

You scoffed, “Yeah, it’s probably worse now than what it was when we were kids, and they were super annoying as kids.” 

Shotaro sometimes wished he knew you five back then. From the stories he’s heard from Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and yourself, the five of you were a blast to be around. You five, at least to Shotaro, were the sole definition of what friendship/family is and what it meant. He’s happy that he’s a part of the family now, but man he would have loved to see you all in your prime. 

Shotaro closed out Elden Ring, “Want to play anything? I feel bad just having you sit here.” 

You shook your head, “Taro I feel perfectly fine just sitting here and watching you play games. Your company is everything and much needed.”

Taro just smiles, opening up Elden Ring again and leaning back on the couch. He knew you just wanted some company, but he still didn’t want to let you feel left out either. 

From what Jake said, you used to be super independent, not needing anything from anyone or needed anyone who wasn't Jay. That you grew up so headstrong and unbreakable, probably due to having Jay as your brother and the three stooges as your friends. Even when you went off to college you were independent, only ever spending time with your roommate and a few other friends but mostly did your own thing. 

But something changed after that winter break and moving into town. You got used to relying on others, always having one of the four boys at your side so when they are all busy, you feel lost. That’s where Shotaro came in. He knows you two are best friends and that you love him and know when you need him, and you need him right now. Things got a lot crazier after finding out you were pregnant, but Taro still was filled with endearment each time you asked to hang out. 

You slid back onto the couch too, leaning your head against his shoulder. Shotaro leaned more into you as well, letting the two of you be comfortable with each other's space. 

“Actually, can I learn to play? Jake plays this at home all the time too.” 

Shotaro nodded, “Of course, princess.” 

He hands you the controller, “Are you sure? I don’t want to mess up your progress.” 

“It’s just a game, YN,” he chuckles, “Plus I know what I’m doing, I can fix any mistake you make.” 

You smiled, letting him teach you what each button does and how it works, and then taught you the basics of the game. Before you knew it you were running around and slaying the lower level enemies. 

“Figured out names yet?” Taro asked, taking a few sips of his coffee. 

You shrugged, “We honestly haven’t really discussed it. Jake and I have been really going about this blind, besides you know, reading the parenting books and doing your basic research. Plus I’ve been attending my doctor appointments and everything seems to be going well, so we are doing something right.” 

“As long as you both and the baby are happy and healthy, that’s all that matters. Maybe it’s one of those things that once you see your child for the first time, the name will come to you almost immediately.” 

You nodded, “That’s what we are going for.” 

You were then killed in the game and Taro teased you to no end that you got his character killed even after he said it would all be okay. 

But you were happy, laughing, and enjoying your time with your best friend. You could see it now, Shotaro being another non-biological uncle to your child. Teach him or her to play video games and tease them to the point they are crying from laughter. 

You were truly blessed to have been surrounded by the right people. 

—

Jake rolled his eyes as he shoved his gloved hands into his puffy jacket pockets, “Is there any reason why I need to be here right now?” he scoffs, a shiver going down his back, “I could be at home cuddling my girlfriend.” 

And rightfully getting my dick wet. 

You woke up super touchy this morning, pressing your chest and belly against his back, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck and shoulder, sliding your hand down his boxers, and pumping his long hard length slowly. 

Jake could be buried balls deep inside you right now. Whether that means your hand, mouth, or cunt. He didn’t care, he just wanted to fuck you slowly. 

Sunghoon skated passed him quickly, taking Jake’s mind out of the multiple positions he could already have put you in by now. 

“Man, we just want one last bro day before YN has the baby,” Heeseung tucked his hands into his pockets, “She’s ready to pop open any day, ya?” 

Jake just nodded, staring down at the ice underneath him, “Within the next few weeks yeah.” 

Jay patted his shoulder, “Don’t look so nervous, everything will be fine.”

Jake knew everything would be fine. But you’ve been staying in bed or lounging around on the couch more often than doing anything else these days. With you finally being in the last leg of your pregnancy, Jake just wanted to take care of you. And obviously, get his dick shoved so far up your cunt that it makes you see stars. 

Jake just rolled his eyes, “That’s not the point, I want to be at home with her right now.” 

“You just want to get your dick wet,” Sunghoon said as he slid across the ice in front of his friends, “I heard the fooling around that was happening this morning.” 

Jake glared at his best friend, “Really man?” 

Jay was also glaring, but not at Sunghoon, “Yeah really man?” Jay might have fully accepted Jake as family and his relationship with his little sister, but he still didn’t want to hear about the sexual acts the two of you do. 

Jake was now glaring at Jay, “I got her knocked up, I don’t see why you’re giving me the death stare right now. It’s kind of obvious at this point that I have sex with your sister.” 

Heeseung and Sunghoon could honestly eat popcorn and watch Jay get mad about Jake railing against you every single time. But Jay was just being a big brother protecting his baby sister, even though you were literally so close to giving birth. 

Jay just waves his hands in the air, “Nah nah I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Anyways!” Sunghoon interrupted, skating back in front of his friends, “We are going to have a bro day and ice skate on my old stomping grounds from hockey days. YN is with my sister having a girls' day, she’s fine.” 

Jake knew once the baby was here that having a guy's day would be less often, mostly up until you’re able to take care of the baby alone after much-needed rest and care. So he shrugged his shoulders, knowing you were with Yeji and perfectly safe, and smiled up at his friends. 

It’s been a while since the last time the four of them ice skated together. It was probably before college. Because once Sunghoon was accepted onto the hockey team, it became hard to skate together again. 

The four boys raced around the rink, trying everything they could to outrun Sunghoon but failing terribly. 

Jake’s heart was so full. He felt like a kid again being with his best friends. With the way everyone laughed, teased, and talked without a care in the world brought all of them back to their high school days. When they’d sneak out of the Park’s house and climb onto the roof and look at the stars until you got annoyed at hearing them talk above your bedroom. 

The memories didn’t stop there. Jake started to remember his soccer days in high school. Remember seeing Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and you cheering him on from the bleachers. Remembering how his parents threw a big party for when his team won the championships for the school district, everyone’s parents drank and laughed in the kitchen while the five of you along with Heeseung and Jake’s older brothers, and Yeji. How you all played around outside until the sun went down. 

Jake rounded the corner of the ice rink, his smile up to his ears as the images of his friends once as children came into mind, then turning them back into who they are all now. 

It’s crazy how fast time can change, but how the four of them never did. They continued to grow together, learn together, and still had each other's backs. 

Jake was truly lucky to have these guys, mostly now that he has you. Jake will never have so much trust in anyone else with his child as he will with the three men standing before him. 

Jake pulled his friends into a hug, “I really needed this today guys, thank you,” His friends pulled each other closer, their smiles never fading, “I truly do love you guys.” 

—

You lay in bed, scrolling through the latest TikTok trends and giggling softly to yourself, using your thumb to swipe to the next video, your other hand gently resting on your belly, fingers tapping lightly as if to tell your baby that you’re here and ready for them. 

You were nearing the due date, counting down the actual seconds until it was time to finally meet the little sprout of life that you and Jake created. To finally grow this small family into something bigger. You were excited, Jake was excited. Same with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon even went out and bought a small hockey jersey of his favorite team for the baby to wear. Heeseung bought baby Legos, and Jay bought a small baby guitar to teach his nephew/niece the love of music so early on. 

Sometimes you think the other three are more excited about you giving birth than you and Jake were. 

But nevertheless, it made you more than happy to see the three of them excited for the baby. 

The only con to being pregnant and being at the due date is everyone has been more on edge. All four of the boys have started picking up more hours and longer shifts at work to pile in that extra money. Mostly because you can’t work and Jake will be taking a leave to help take care of you and the baby. So the other three decided to pick up those hours to help pick up the slack from Jake not working to help pay the bills. You were grateful and hated that you could pitch in, but you loved them all dearly for it. Jake also was working himself to death recently, wanting to get every last penny possible to put into savings for the hospital bills you’ll have and to get clothes and food that everyone else will need. 

You set your phone down at your side, staring up at the ceiling. Grateful and love aren’t big enough words to describe how happy you are to have those four men. 

As if on cue, the front door to the quiet apartment opened, an obvious sign that someone returned home. 

Today was one of the rare days you were left alone. Mostly because Shotaro also had to work and wasn’t able to call out or get a replacement. But you promised to stay in bed all day to help ease the boys' minds. 

You sat up in the bed, listening carefully on who could have come back home, then heard the sigh of your boyfriend and the sound of him dropping himself onto the couch. 

Your heart raced as you swung your legs over the bed and stood up, making your way to the bedroom and opening it slowly, peaking out to see Jake hunched over on the couch, face in his hands. 

You walked out of the room, the sound of your bare feet walking on the floor had Jake lifting his head, giving you a small smile, “Hey baby, you resting okay?” 

You nodded, taking note of the bags under his eyes. How tired he looked, how he seemed to barely keep his smile up. 

“Jake, are you okay?” you asked him, taking his hand into yours, and rubbing your thumb into his palm. 

Jake just nodded, leaning back onto the couch, “I’m just exhausted. They sent me home early because I almost fell asleep on a computer tower I was working on.” 

You bit your lip as you squeezed his hand. Jake has been working so hard for you. Barely getting enough sleep. If he wasn’t at work, he was at home helping to take care of you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. 

Jake could see the worry in your eyes, quickly trying to blink away the sleep and sat back up, taking both of his hands to your belly and resting his forehead against the middle, “Don't look at me like that,” he whispered, “It’s all for you, for us. It’s going to be worth it once this little one is here.” 

You tangled your fingers into his hair, taking a deep breath in. Jake is almost as stubborn as Jay when it comes to putting his mind to something. You knew no matter how much you told him to rest or not worry about you, he was going to do everything anyway. 

Jake’s hand moved to your hips and softly squeezed, leaving a few kisses on your clothed belly, “Even when you’re fixing to burst open you’re still so sexy, YN.” 

A heat wave went through your body, and you started acting on instinct. 

You placed your hands on his shoulders, slowly pressing him back onto the couch. Jake looks up at you, seeing the lust that filled your eyes now. Seeing the want to take care of him. 

He had to admit, it got his cock hard so fast. 

Jake watched as you sank down to your knees, crossing your legs underneath you for better balance, hands now at the button of his jeans.

“Baby—“ 

You cut him off, “Let me take care of you,” you said it more as a warning than anything else, making him know damn well he better sit back and relax, “You’ve been taking such good care of me, let me repay it.” 

Jake didn’t even attempt to start arguing, not after you slid his jeans and boxers down to his ankles, his cock slapping against his abdomen from being set free. The tip already red and angry and leaking with precum. Jake bit his lips, any exhaustion he had was out the window as he watched you take his length in your hands, extending your tongue and licking him from his balls all the way up his shaft and to the tip. Flattening your tongue over the top and pressing the precum, mixing it with your saliva. 

Jake couldn’t hold his moans back, mostly not after you placed the tip between your lips, slowly sucking it as your tongue wrapped around it then releasing it with a pop. 

You fluttered your eyes up to him, seeing the way your boyfriends pupils were already so blown out. Loving how furrowed his brows were and how his mouth opened a gap. You smirked at him, keeping eye contact as you stretched your tongue out again and licked up his shaft. 

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, hands gripping the cushions of the couch, “Fuck fuck fuck, stop teasing me.” 

You hummed against his cock, placing soft kisses up the shaft and at the tip then finally taking him completely in your mouth. 

Jake flung his head back as he felt your mouth slide down him, the tip hitting the back off your throat and squeezing around him, a wet moan leaving his plump lips. 

You squeezed your thighs together, the moan Jake let out sent chills down your spine and to your heat. You had to be dripping out of your panties after that moan, because fuck it was hot. 

You bobbed your head up and down, taking every inch of him as your hands squeezed his thighs. Tongue working its magic as it wrapped around him, giving that extra pleasure. 

Jake set his head back up, looking down at you all pretty between his legs, sucking him off like the good girl you are, taking such good care of him. 

Jake was losing his mind, seeing the way you sucked his dick, with how you gripped onto his thighs. Wearing that pretty blue sleep dress to help keep the comfort while pregnant. It was so fucking hot to him. 

Here you were, knocked the fuck up and still down on your knees for him. Sucking him like your life depended on it. Jake could cum just from watching you. 

His cock twitched and he hissed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. 

“Baby,” he cooed, running a finger down your jaw and your eyes fluttered up to him, still not slowing down your movements, “I’m fixing—fuck—to cum,” he flung his head back, but then quickly set it back up, “I wanna cum in your pussy.” 

You released him from your mouth, using his thighs, with the help of his hands pulling you up. 

Jake carefully laid you down on your back against the couch, hands lifting up your blue dress until it was now on the floor, hands flicking back to your hips and removing your panties, leaving you completely bare to him. 

You reached for his shirt, hands gliding up his body, fingers tracing over his abs and chest as he helped you remove that last bit of clothing from him. 

Jake lined his cock to your entrance, hands resting on your knees, looking to you for the nod of approval then sliding himself in. 

You gasp as he bottoms out, then pulls himself halfway out, then slams back into you.

Jake bit his lips as he watched the way your body reacted to him deep inside you, watching as you moaned and whimpered under him. Even though you did all this to take care of him, Jake wasn’t going to let himself finish without you getting some taken care of too. 

So his fingers got to work on your clit as he pounded into you. Jake was already close and knew he was going to bust before you did, but he didn’t care. He continued to fuck into you until his seed spilled in you, his hips staggering as he did two last hard thrusts then held his hips in place, making sure every last drop of his cum stayed inside you. His fingers are working faster now. 

Your moaning got louder. The sensation of Jake pressed up against your cervix with his fingers on your clit was driving you mad. You couldn’t form any sentences, could barely even think of a sentence. 

“Oh? Fucked you dumb?” Jake cooed, licking his bottom lip, and slowly started moving his hips again, “All you know is my cock right now? Right baby?” 

You nodded, feeling your climax fast approaching. 

Jake thought he would be finished after cumming, but seeing how fucked out you were made his dick twitch and wanting more. He couldn’t help it, you looked too sexy laying there under him to not move his hips again. Regardless of how overstimulating he felt right now. It just added to the moment. 

“Fuck I love you so much,” he whispered, snapping his hips faster, his cum now leaking out of your hole and dripping down onto the couch, “Here you are fixing to give birth and still caring more about taking care of me and my needs? God, what did I do to deserve you?” 

The knot snapped and your orgasm washed over you. Jake pumped into you faster now, both hands being back on your knees, mixing your cum together. 

“Thank you,” Jake groaned, “Thank you for never giving up on me,” he ran his hands down to your thighs, gripping the plush tightly, “Even after everything we’ve been through, after the shit I put you through. You stayed by me, continued to love me—fuck—thank you, baby, for never giving up on me, on us. And I promise you,” Jake reached his second climax faster than expected, but he didn’t care, letting the white ropes shoot deep inside your cunt, hips pinning so hard against your thighs you’re sure bruises will be there in the morning, “I won’t give up on us, I’ll never give up on us, on you, or this family.” 

You exhaustedly smiled up at your boyfriend, looking at him with endearment as you reached both arms up to his shoulders and pulled him down to you. Jake hovered carefully, his hand gripping the back of the couch as his lips connected to yours. 

He rests his forehead against yours, smiling and chuckling as he struggles to catch his breath after cumming twice. 

How did he actually get so lucky to call you his?

—

You woke up in a pained sweat, your body sitting up quickly as your hands reached for your lower stomach. 

It was only five pm, and the apartment was quiet except for the sounds of Jake’s soft snores as he slept beside you, the other three being at work. 

“Jake,” you barely were able to mumble out, reaching a hand from your stomach to tap his bare back, “Jake.” 

Jake sniffled and hummed, not moving. 

You sat up more, feeling the wetness soaking the bed sheets. 

“Jake,” you cried out, shoving his shoulder the best you could, sending his head shooting up and looking at you, “Jake.” 

All it took was one look and Jake knew what was happening. 

“Shit!” he cursed, jumped from the bed, and ran to the closet, grabbing a pair of clothes for you and himself. 

Jake helped you dress as fast as he could before dressing himself and helping you to your feet and out of the apartment. 

You still weren’t due for another few days but Jake never has been so happy to already have his time off from work. 

Crazy how the small nap the two of you decided to take would end with your child deciding to gift the world its presence. Even though nerve-racking, Jake wouldn’t help the excitement. 

Jake was speeding down the street, fumbling with his phone to call Jay while telling you to keep breathing. 

Jay answered on the second ring. 

“What’s up, man? I am in the mid—“ 

“Her water broke,” Jake interrupted. 

“What?” Jake could hear the panic in your brother's voice. 

“YN’s water broke!” 

“Oh fuck,” there was fumbling around in the background and the sound of Jay’s shoes hitting the pavement to show he’s running, followed up by a “My sister’s water broke, I gotta go!” more running then a car door being shut, “Please get her to the hospital safe, I’ll be there shortly.” 

“Call Hee and Hoon and all our parents too,” Jake was barely able to say, the nerves settling in even more, “I need to focus on YN. Can you also go back to the apartment? I forgot the extra bag of things for her night stay.” 

Jay agreed, “Get me sister there safe,” and then the call ended. 

Jake tossed his phone onto his lap, reaching his hand over onto your stomach, rubbing it gently, “Just keep breathing baby, okay?” 

You nodded, feeling lightheaded and like you were about to pass out. 

Before you knew it, you lay on the hospital bed with nurses and doctors surrounding your lower half. Jake stood by your side squeezing your hand tightly and sending words of encouragement that you could barely hear over the sound of your ears ringing from pushing. 

This was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt, but you knew once your baby was out, it would always be worth it. 

Jake leaned his head against yours, placing kisses on your brow, and continued his words of encouragement, “That’s it, baby, you’re doing great. Keep pushing.” 

You gave one final push, and the pain was easing up. Jake’s head whipped to your lower half as the sound of crying now filled the room. 

You took some deep breaths and relaxed your body, but you noticed Jake’s hand was still squeezing yours. You tried to call him, but eyes never once left your baby as the doctors and nurses took them to a small table, bathing your child clean, their little cries getting louder. 

One of the nurses noticed Jake’s stare, her smile growing wide after the other nurses finished wrapping your baby in a blanket. 

“Want to come meet your daughter, dad?” the nurse said. 

Daughter. He had a daughter. 

Jake opens his mouth to speak, hands trembling. 

“Babe,” Jake hears you call to him, “Go meet our daughter.” 

He finally looks down at you, only seeing how big your smile is even after the exhaustion of pushing out a whole human being. 

So he nodded, finally letting go of your hand, and with shaky legs walked over to the table. 

Jake fell to his knees. One look was all it took. One look at his daughter and everything in life made sense. One look and his life finally had even more purpose than before. One look and that sweet baby girl became the center of his world. 

Oh, he was fucked. 

The nurses helped Jake back to his knees, teasing him about being a first-time dad, and encouraged him to hold his baby girl. 

Tears filled Jake’s eyes as he picked her up, her cries finally disappearing the moment she locked eyes with him as if she knew she was safe and sound in the arms of her father. 

The tears fell down his cheeks, smiling big as he let out a soft chuckle, turning to face you as he rocked her in his arms, “She has the Park nose.” 

You let out a small giggle because of course she does. You’ve never heard the end of how people knew you and Jay were related by similar noses. But you were glad she did have the Park nose. 

The longer Jake stared down at his little girl, the more he saw himself in her. Mostly her eyes, the same beautiful brown that he has. 

“We created this,” Jake cried, finally walking back to your side, “We created this beautiful piece of life.” 

You reached for your daughter, Jake slowly and carefully placing her in your arms. And oh the sobs that escaped your mouth. 

She was so beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful. She was a spitting image of Jake, with small hints of you. 

Jake pulled a chair up to the bed, sitting as close to you as he could, wrapping his arm over your arms that held your daughter, his thumb grazing the back of your hand. 

Her small eyes looked back at him and gave a small yawn. His heart nearly stopped, mouthing opening and voice speaking before he realized. 

“Hwa Young,” he softly said. 

You didn’t take your eyes off your daughter to know what Jake meant, “Beautiful Little Flower,” you whispered. 

“Beautiful Little Flower,” Jake repeated, his smile growing again. 

“Hwa Young Sim,” you smiled, finally turning to face your boyfriend, “Babe, it’s the perfect name.” 

Jake quickly leaned over to kiss you, not being able to get enough of your lips on his at this moment. Hwa was finally here in both your arms, your little family finally completely together. 

Hwa’s soft yawn had you two pulling away from each other, eyes filling with endearment at how her nose scrunches when she yawns. 

You gently traced your fingers over her face, wanting to outline this moment in memory. 

Jake watched as you did it, eyes going back and forth between you and Hwa. Knowing this is what he wanted for the rest of his life. 

“YN?” 

You looked up at your boyfriend, giving him a smile, “Hmm?” 

“Let’s get married.” 

You stare at him, tears filling his eyes once again as he leaned back in to kiss you more then slowly fell back into his seat. 

“Let’s get married,” Jake repeated again, “Marry me.” 

You cried again, nodding and chanting out strings of “Yes yes yes.” 

This might have been Jake’s happiest moment of his life and knew this happiness was never going to fade. He has you. He has Hwa. He has Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, his older brother, and his parents. There’s nothing else Jake needed. He has it all now. 

You started to ask where your brother was when the door to the hospital room flew open and everyone’s eyes went to the door. 

Jay stood in the doorway, your duffle bag in hand. 

“I came as quickly as I could, Heeseung and Sunghoon are…on the way.” 

You smiled up at your brother as his eyes were locked into Hwa in your arms. 

“Jongseong, my big brother, want to come meet your niece?”  

Jay almost lost his balance, dropping the duffle bag to the floor and gripping to the wall. Jake couldn’t help but laugh. 

“My niece?” Jay’s heart was pounding. He has a niece. He’s an uncle. Oh my god, he has a niece. 

“We’re both fucked, brother,” Jake teased, “We are done for.” 

Jay slowly walked over to your bedside, watching as you slowly lifted his niece up and into his arms. Jake was right, they both were fucked. Because the moment Jay fully held her in his arms and looked into those eyes, he was done for. Jay became putty in this little girl's hands. She has him wrapped around her finger and his entire world. The protection Jay felt for her was on the same level he had for you, and you could see it in his eyes as he held Hwa. That big brother protection spell overflowing onto her. It made you smile, knowing she would be so loved and protected like you are. 

Jay fought to hold back his tears as he rocked her in his arms, “My sweet niece…” 

“Hwa Young Sim,” Jake said with a big smile, “Beautiful Little Flower.” 

Jay chuckled, “It fits her so well…Little Hwa. Oh my god, she has the Park nose.” 

Everyone in the room laughed as Jay continued to coo over Hwa. Kissing her forehead softly and whispering how he’ll be the best uncle for her, to protect her with everything. It made tears swell back into your eyes. 

Jay chuckled again, “She is a spitting image of you, Jake. An exact copy and paste, it’s crazy.” 

Heeseung, Sunghoon, and even Shotaro rounded the corner of the door frame, the three of them immediately crumbling the moment they laid eyes on Hwa. 

Baby girl has only been born for twenty minutes and she already has everyone in the room wrapped around her fingers and falling to their knees. 

“We’re uncles!!” Sunghoon cheered, taking Hwa from Jay. 

Jake and you watched as your parents pulled in one by one, everyone taking turns holding your daughter and showing her all the love she deserves. 

Jake rests his forehead against yours, tangling his fingers around yours, “Baby?” he hummed, “Let’s have another one, ya?” 

‧₊˚✧THE END✧˚₊‧

—tags: @ikeuverse @slutforsjy @hanjisunginc @alvojake @lhsvibez @wonsbaer @zeeloveshee @jjknoir @jaeyunq @jaklvbub @woniebae @jeongingf1 @haelahoops @willgrysn @in-somnias-world @lovelyikeu @ilikekpop-c @moonrachas @misssparklyprincess @eddieeddiesblog @kaykay11sworld @tasnim10 @kangnina @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @mymemoriesandmelodies @iselltulips @jooniesbears-blog @shawnyle @brownsugarbaybee @woahsehun @laurradoesloveu @citylightsdoll @simjyunnie @cmoundiamante @caramelcandescence @lavenderiridescence @niniissus @hearts4elle @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @fried-bread071696 @coolwitu @kyeoluvr @crimnalseung @jwnghyuns @woninluv @fakeuwus @simhinata

[anonymityisfunwriter]

"Slut!"

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader Summary - It was perfect. Lovelorn and nobody knows. Love thorns all over this rose. You almost forgot just how hard the fall back to reality is. But if they call you a slut, it might be worth it for once.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

"She goes through guys like a train-"

You immediately change the channel. The next one isn't better. You don't know why you thought it would be.

"The Stark last name and the long list of ex-lovers, that's her claim to fame. I mean, let's be honest here, she's a slu-" The tabloid reporter is abruptly cut off as the screen before you goes dark.

You look up to find Steve with the remote in his hand. He glares at the screen like the reporter was still talking, "You shouldn't be watching that."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be. It's despicable. They were - the things they're calling you-"

"A slut," you finish for him.

His eyes dart to you, that furrow between his eyebrows getting deeper and deeper with every word spoken, "It's not true. This isn't journalism, it's slander."

You weren't sure how this happened. Sure, it was only a matter of time before they found you out. This wasn't the first time. Not the second or the third either. If the press was to be believed, you were love sick. Love struck with a new man every week.

It wasn't the first time someone called you a slut. It certainly wouldn't be the last.

You stopped living your life in fear of what people would say a long time ago. Being this young was an art. And up until now, you thought you mastered it.

It was simple. You even had your rules. You followed them and no one got hurt - or at the very least, it minimized the damage.

They were going to stare at you. Strangers. Press. The flashing cameras. It came with being a Stark. If they're going to look, you gave them something to look at. You didn't so much as step out on the street with a single hair out of place. You were flawless. Always.

You were nineteen, and on the heels of a breakup with your second ever boyfriend, the first time someone spit that word at you - "slut!" It hurt, but it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would. It almost made you laugh. You realized that they didn't really care about your love life or about the trail of broken hearts you were supposedly leaving behind. They wanted a spectacle. They wanted a show. If you're going to be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

It was easier after that. You knew the truth. The people around you knew the truth. You let everyone else believe what they wanted. You did what you wanted. You lived your life without worrying about being called a slut. They were going to call you one anyway. And if they call you a slut, you might as well make it worth it.

You gave just enough to keep them satisfied. Never anything too real. Never too much. Just enough that they wouldn't dare peak behind closed doors. Just enough to be able to live your life.

There were was a cost, of course. No one took you seriously. You dealt with the vague humiliation of the rumors constantly swirling about your hips and thighs and whispered sighs.

And though you inherited the Stark genius, no one cared about what you thought, what you had to say.

In that, the reporter was right, your love life was far more interesting than your thoughts on quantum mechanics or the military industrial complex. That was what you were known for.

For the most part, you were okay with it. You were willing to pay it all.

That was until you fell in love with Steve Rogers. Suddenly, you weren't willing to give them crumbs. You weren't willing to expose a love that felt this delicate.

You sit on the couch, huddled in your sweatpants, pensively staring at the blank screen.

This time, it was different. This wasn't a show, not a spectacle. It was real, an exposed nerve that the world decided was fair game. You were fair game and it was open season.

Steve settles beside you, draping an arm around your midsection. He kisses your temple, "Tony thinks it's probably best that you lay low for a while."

"Yes, well, my brother is the expert on PR damage control."

It wasn't the same though. You both knew it. Tony had done far worse with far more women. Yet, he would never pay the price you were paying in this very moment.

Steve's arms tighten around you like he's shielding you from the storm, "It's not right. It's not fair that you're being forced to sequester yourself. You're being punished but what exactly was your crime?"

"I fell in love with Steve Rogers, that was my crime." You fell for the man everyone wanted, the man who was in the wrong place at the right time.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against the crown of your head.

"For what?"

"You warned me this would happen."

It was true. You told him exactly what would happen, but even you didn't anticipate exactly how bad things would get.

You'd been with Steve for just under a year. And up until a week ago, only a select few knew. You both agreed to keep it a secret from the public. You felt protective over the love you shared, it was more real than anything else you'd ever had. You wanted to keep it to yourself, out of the hands of people that would tear you both to shreds without a second thought.

Steve felt the same. Though he was more worried about the enemies he made over the years.

It made sense to protect the relationship, to protect yourselves until you were both ready. You wanted to protect him from what you knew was lurking around the corner. Steve was still so new to the 21st century. Dating in the public eye wasn't easy. Dating a Stark wasn't easy. For almost an entire year, you used every publicity trick in the book - and it worked.

But then, you heard it, the whispers, rumors bubbled about your newest future ex-lover.

You only agreed to going public because everyone told you it was time, because they promised that the timing couldn't have worked out better than this. It was better to do this on your own terms than have it leaked.

No one knew how bad it would get.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," you whisper, standing in the hallway of your apartment. You could practically hear the cameras flashing outside your apartment. You'd never been this nervous to leave your apartment before. You'd been through the plan a million times. You'd be exposed to the cameras for a matter of seconds. Happy was already waiting with the door to your SUV open, ready for you to jump in. You'd walk outside holding Steve's hand - a sort of silent announcement to the world. "It won't be easy."

"I don't care," Steve promises, kissing the palm of your hand. "I'm tired of hiding. I'm proud to call you mine."

You tenderly stroke his cheek, "And if it blows up in your pretty face?"

He smiles down at you, "You're worth it."

"We'll pay the price, I guess." But deep down, you know. You'll pay the price, he won't.

The cameras had never been that loud before. Even though your announcement went off without a hitch, even though your publicist couldn't have been more pleased, not even they could have predicted how bad things would get.

It seemed like the whole world was calling you that four letter word.

At first, it was mostly online. People were mean, you knew that. You were prepared for nasty comments. Steve's most staunch supporters thought he could do better. People rejoiced in the spectacle your love life turned into. You were a laughing stock all over again. All that you were prepared for. Then some rabid fans leaked your phone number.

You decided that it would be a good time to disconnect anyway.

But it didn't end there. Not even close.

The day after you were expected to make an appearance for a charity you founded. It was just a quick 2 minute speech. And though the event had been throughly vetted, you'd never forget the way your blood ran cold when mid-sentence someone screamed that four letter word over and over again until security dragged them out. You continued until your speech was done, but there was no hiding the way your hands trembled.

From what you heard, the video was still making its rounds online.

You were expected to make an appearance two days after that. An event honoring your father. An event you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into to make sure it was impeccable, an event worthy of honoring your father. The same event you were practically uninvited from.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's just me. I come in peace," Tony jokes.

"I'm glad," you sigh. "I was worried I was going to have to get another number."

Tony sighs into the phone, "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better."

"I'm afraid I don't come bearing good news."

"What now, Tony?"

"That event you had Friday night, the one for dad?"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You already knew were this was going. "What about it?"

"They want me to take over for you."

You bitterly scoff, "This week just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"

"You say the word and I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No, don't do that. It's for dad."

"You planned this whole thing single-handedly. You deserve to be the one up there." You don't say a word. He's right, you both know it. It doesn't change the situation you've been put in. "You are still going, right? Come on, you have to go."

"They broke into my house, Tony."

"What? Are you okay?"

"Happy just told me," you explain, sparing Tony the most gory details. "The one in L.A. Apparently, it is now covered in spray paint. You wanna guess what they wrote?"

"Where was your security?" Tony demands.

"Here. Trying to keep people off my sidewalk."

"I'm so sorry."

"I just - I don't think it's a good idea. At least until I get more security."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm glad you've got Steve there. At least I know he'll keep you safe."

You almost smile. Tony was never his biggest fan, but you mostly credit that to him being an overprotective big brother. And the situation you'd found yourself in did nothing to win Tony's over good graces, "It's not his fault, Tony."

"It kinda is, but I digress. Listen, we'll figure this out, alright? I'll go streak in front of the Tower if that'll take some heat off of you."

And though you effectively doubled your security in the last two days, nothing would change anyone's mind about you. You were the villain tainting their hero.

You broke down after that call, violently sobbing against Steve's shoulder. He just pulled you in even tighter.

It reminds you of why you're doing all this. So you can be together, out in the open. That in a world of boys, he's a gentleman.

You squeeze his hand, "You're worth it."

"I'm not worth having your reputation torn to shreds."

And maybe they're right about you. Maybe you do get love struck. Maybe his eyes are like the world's strongest liquor, and it went straight to your head. Maybe you do get love sick. Sure, your life has momentarily fallen apart. It's magic, madness, heaven, and sin, all rolled into one. But if they're going to call you a slut, it might be worth it for once. "But what if all I need is you?"

Steve Rogers Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a

[fungateshortcakes]

Fight or flight (Logan Howlett x Reader)

Summary: Your sister invited you and your husband Logan to her wedding! Too bad that the wedding was held in your hometown, which was days away from america if you drove by car. There was no other option than to use a plane - Logan wasn't exactly thrilled about it.

Warnings: implied sexual themes (Blowjobs, anal fingering), flight anxiety, possible spelling mistakes bc english Isn't my first language, overall just comforting fluff

Wordcount: 1.1k

Authors note: Does anyone want to peg Logan? Or have some sub!Logan stuff in general? I would write something like that because I have seen so little fics of it, but that makes me wonder if that’s even something people want :/ #JusticeForSubLogan

__________________________________

Logan hated this, he was only doing it for you. Your sister was getting married tomorrow and invited you and Logan to take part at the ceremony. Very nice of her, that also wasn't the issue. The problem was - she was getting married in your hometown, which was days away from america if you drove by car.

So that's why Logan found himself in a plane that was just about to take off.

You had booked a three-seat row to be a bit more comfortable on the eight-hour flight. You could store your bags on the empty middle seat between you and Logan to have free range of motion for your feet and legs. While you sat at the window, he was the furthest away from it. He couldn't bear to see the ground thousands of feets below you, it made his skin crawl.

He had fastened the seatbelt to the point where it was noticeably too tight against his abdomen, but it gave himself a sense of security. That and his right hand clawing at the arm rest while his left hand was crushing squeezing yours as if he was pushing out a baby. He certainly breathed like that was happening right now.

"Relax, the plane hasn't even started to move yet" you giggled softly, wincing at his strong grip. It definitely was a sight to see your husband all tense and stiff next to you, his chest heaving like he had run a marathon. It was amusing and pitiful at the same time.

He gritted his teeth and huffed, trying to calm himself. "We're gonna crash" he pressed out, looking down to his feet. "We are not gonna crash" you told him, squeezing his hand in reassurance. You knew about his past regarding planes and flying in general, that it was traumatic for him. Not to mention his fear of hights that made him feel anxious like nothing else. He felt sick to the stomach, like he was about to throw up. His chest was thight and he couldn't help the laboured breaths escaping him. You weren't doing this to see him suffer, but you weren't about to travel for a week by car and boat just to be at your sisters wedding for a day and traveling back for a week to america.

You lifted his hand up to your lips, kissing his knuckles soothingly. "Nothing will happen to you, nothing will happen to me. I promise"

He scoffed. "I hate you for putting me through this"

You nodded your head and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I know" you cooed. "Don't think I am doing this for fun. But at least she is my only sister to get married, so when we are back in america, you won't have to set foot in a plane for a long while, okay?"

Your words only did a little to sooth his nerves, but he nodded his head anyway. It was one, sharp nod followed by a thick swallow. Logan jumped as the plane started moving suddenly, getting out of his parking spot and heading to the departure zone. He pressed his eyes shut and held his breath, mumbling something to himself you couldn't make out.

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm, softly shushing him. You felt a bit useless in this situation. You wanted to help him, but there was no way you could. Nothing you would say would take his fear and anxiety away, but you were determinded to make it better.

The closer the plane got to the departure zone, the faster was Logans breathing. A few flight attendents passing through had been worried about him, asking if he needed something. But he was so scared he couldn't even answer nor look at them.

"First time flying" you lied awkwardly and asked for a pair of earplugs for him. They were brought to you shortly before the plane was starting to become faster, speeding down the lane and picking up the pace. Logan was busy doing some breathing excercises so he wouldn’t completely pass out. That would have been a better option though, because the second the plane took off and gained more and more distance from the ground, his ears ached like a dagger had been rammed into one ear and went out the other. He hissed deeply at the change of pressure, his grip on the armrest nearly cracking the plastic. For others, the pressure gave them a mild headache, but with his heightened sense of hearing, this was torture, like his skull was slowly ripping apart at the seams.

You shoved your bags on the middle seat under your feet and put the armrests up between the seats so you could pull Logans head closer to you. You twisted the earplugs into his ears and held his head against your chest, one arm looped back over his shoulder and covering his eyes, the other on his chest, feeling the strong and erratic thumpthumpthump of his heart. You kissed the crown of his head, your hand moving from his heart to his arm, softly rubbing and squeezing. He whined softly in your grip at the pain the change of pressure brought him. It was still there, but not as bad.

"Shh, I know. It's gonna be over soon. I won't ever take you on a plane again, I'm so sorry" you whispered to him. "Once that wedding is over and we get to the hotel room, I'm gonna make you re-live our own honeymoon. Gonna make you feel good, I'm gonna make you cum so much to make you forget this experience. I want to make it up to you, baby" you cooed into his ear, your quiet voice only muffled, but he heard you anyway. The image of you handling his cock flashed across his mind. When you were really into pleasuring him, nothing could pull your mouth off his dick. You would be busy devouring him, a few fingers loosening up his tight hole while your tounge circled the throbbing, angry red tip of his cock, making him cum his brains out by just pressing the pads of your fingers against that delicious sweet spot inside him. And you wouldn't stop until he only remembered your name.

He shuddered in your grasp and only a small smile pulled at his lips. Well, at least there was something to look forward to. And he was sure you'd pamper him for fighting through this.

As the plane was at it's desired height, his headache lessened and you were able to let him go to sit up straight again, but not before he gave you a soft, thankful kiss. He was a bit calmer now, not as rigid anymore. All thanks to you. He could do this...but only if you continued to hold his hand and smile at him as if there was not a single thing to worry about in this world.

[maxlarens]

Hi, I have a smau request for Charles (based on c.ai bot lol, and the fact that I love painting), so the reader is invited by her friends to a house for vacation, her friends are all with their s/o and they also always try to set up reader with someone, that's when her and Charles meet, and reader finally gives it a chance because she knows her friends won't stop to set her up. They talk for a whole evening about what they do in life (reader is an artist/painter) and they get along really well. Eventually they get together and reader is very liked by the public, even if there will always be haters, but most fans thinks she's just very adorable (especially because of her insta/twitter posts)

CL: slip up and i call you baby

pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader

summary: you love your friends, you really do. you just wish they’d stop trying so hard to set you up with random guys. [smau + written fic] (read on: ao3) (part 2)

fc: faceless

word count: 5.1k

warnings: mild sexual references

a/n: this is such a cute idea! thank u so much for sending it in!! u will not believe how much this idea gripped me like i never write one shots like this its just unheard of for me if im honest. anyway i know u asked for a smau so i will be doing a second part/continuation to this that is solely an smau to make up for that. (ALSO sorry for disappearing i was super sick for the whole week and have been getting my shit back together in the aftermath😭)

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ynusername italy we are in u!!!

Amalfi Coast, Italy

You’ve never been particularly boy crazy. At least not the same way your friends are.

There have been a few not-quite boyfriend’s over the years, but those relationships never last long. They never really get you, or they never really get the art thing. Which means, of course, that they don’t get you and never will— and that’s fine, you’re content with that. If living for your art means you’ll never be in love then so be it and frankly, good riddance to them.

For the most part, you’ve given up trying. You go on a few dates here and there, but you never let them stick around. Even the ones that seem interested in your paintings you don’t bother with— none of them really seem to be able to grasp what art truly is to you. It isn’t just paint on a canvas, it’s living, it’s breathing. You are only yourself with a way to make art.

It’s difficult to put into words.

So you don’t. Instead, you send texts that say ‘thanks for your time but this isn’t working out’ and you keep the men your friends try to set you up with at arm's length. You placate Chloe and her partner Rowan– who collects friends like they’re Pokémon– with, “he wasn’t my type” and “I’m not looking for a relationship right now”, which you suppose is true, but also isn’t the entirety of it. Yet, every time without fail, there’s a new boy at the scene of the crime.

Chloe doesn’t get it, none of your friends get it. You don’t try to explain it to them. So, y’know, here you are again.

Anyway, here’s the thing: they’re getting closer. Inexplicably, without knowing how you really feel about it all, Chloe and Rowan are getting better and better at picking the boys who are able to tempt you. Which is a pain really, because sometimes you’re trying to have a perfectly nice vacation in Italy without the lure of a boy you can’t let yourself have. But alas, these things generally don’t go your way.

You should know that by now.

Charles Leclerc is bang on the money, he really is. He is unbearably cute, like so cute that you have to leave the room when he walks in, because you don’t trust yourself to be in close proximity to him right now. You have a hard time looking at his face when you are forced to be around him. The dimples when he smiles, the squint of his eyes even when he isn’t. If you look too long you’re liable to stare and that wouldn’t lead to anything good at all.

He’s nice as well. So nice, just like Chloe told you. You try to pretend he doesn’t exist and he still asks you questions about your job and the area of Monaco you live in— like he’s even interested, like he’ll remember you two weeks from now. You try your best to be pleasant, to answer without it being like pulling teeth, and to ask questions of him as well. You’ll probably see him again after this, so best to not to go too far and act like you hate him. It’s difficult though, toeing the line between friendly and encouraging of more. Or it feels difficult for you. Charles doesn’t make even the slightest suggestion of the two of you being set up by your nosy friends. That’s unbearable too. Part of you wishes he’d just make a clumsy pass at you so you can rebuff it and make your intentions abundantly clear. But, obviously, he doesn’t, because he’s perfect or something.

It sucks. You hate him, you think.

Or you want to.

On the second day of the trip, you’re on the villa’s private beach, laying in the hot sun. Chloe, Anaïs and Bea are there; everyone else is either still sleeping off the wine from last night or swimming in the glittering ocean. You’ve got a secondhand book, a 2B pencil and a pair of sunglasses over your eyes. You’re trying to read but you just end up doodling, drawing your friends bikini-clad bodies over the text and shading grapes into the margins. Trying desperately not to accidentally put Charles Leclerc’s dimples, messy hair, or sloped nose to paper.

“So,” Chloe says conspiratorially, as you abort an attempt at drawing a slightly squinted eye with thick lashes, “What do you think of Charles?”

You raise an eyebrow carefully at her over your sunglasses, betraying nothing of your inner turmoil, “I think nothing.”

Anaïs laughs, rolling onto her back, “That’s such shit. You practically sprint away from him everytime he comes near.”

“I do not,” you answer too quickly.

Anaïs laughs again, louder. Chloe joins in and Bea raises her eyebrows at you like you’re a fucking liar. You frown, glaring a little before stubbornly turning your head back to your book. The conversation about Charles ends there, but unfortunately your actions have spoken for themselves. A chill of something like panic chitters up your spine and into your shoulders. You have to roll them to make the feeling go away.

As the sun climbs higher in the sky you lose some people to the heat and gain others. It’s just you and Chloe sweating onto your towels when Rowan and Charles finally give up on whatever game they were playing in the ocean. Rowan collapses unceremoniously into the space between you and Chloe, kicking up sand and getting water droplets all over you like he’s a wet dog. You let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and an exasperated groan as you roll away from him, landing in the sand.

“Watch it,” you cry, “You’re getting my book all wet.”

Rowan laughs, “You’re drawing in it!”

“So.”

He pulls a face at you that makes you roll your eyes; then he turns into Chloe, shoving his face into her collarbone and flinging limbs over her. You snort, leaning over to snag the book off your towel before it gets dragged into the mess that Rowan is causing. You’re about to get up and go inside until you realise Charles is still standing there. Has, in fact, been standing there since Rowan ran over. Your breath catches, heart skipping a beat as you look up to find him standing there.

“Hey,” you smile briefly at him, quickly looking away from his damp hair and bare chest (–which is difficult to do because, holy shit–) so you can gather up your towel.

“Hi,” he replies.

He might smile back. You don’t look. You’re trying to get the image of his washboard abs out of your head. This proves difficult when you clamber to your feet and find yourself face to face with him.

“Are you heading back?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

God, you want to kick yourself. You’re being so awkward, and right in front of Chloe too, who may not be watching but is absolutely listening to you make a fool of yourself in front of a guy you have very firmly said that you are not interested in. It must be clear to him too, that you’re trying very deliberately to not be interested in him. You cant tell what would be worse; if that means he’ll think you’re a weirdo or if it means he’ll take it as a sign that he should make some kind of move.

Ugh.

“I’ll come with you?”

“Hmm,” you blink yourself back into existence, seeing the questioning look on Charles’ face, “Yes, yeah. Sorry.”

You say goodbye to Chloe and Rowan who barely look away from one another, still rolling around in the sand like teenagers.

“Gross,” you say to Charles, as the two of you trudge through hot sand toward the sandstone steps that lead up to the villa.

He laughs, a breathy thing that tapers off with a sigh, “A bit, yes.”

You don’t say anything else, but you find yourself staring at his back and the way his muscles shift and move underneath his tanned skin. At the top of the stairs you part ways, he smiles at you and you offer something awkward in return, trying to pretend you hadn’t been looking at him. You don’t think he notices, but your cheeks red burn anyway.

You don’t see him watching you leave.

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chloegarelli hungover, sunkissed and lovesick

Amalfi Coast, Italy

Dinner is a huge affair, as it always is on these trips.

You, Anaïs and Chloe spend three hours in the kitchen that afternoon making chicken fricassée and about a hundred different side dishes to go with it. Everyone crowds around the dinner table to eat and drink even more wine than the night before. Piero Piccioni plays on the old record player, crackling away as you laugh and talk and tell stories with your friends well into the night. You watch the sun set through floor-to-ceiling glass windows and you wish wish wish that you had your paints right now.

You brought along a set of oil pastels and one of your art notebooks, but it doesn’t compare at all to painting. If you could get your hands on cadmium yellow in all it’s hues, maybe vermillion and a powder blue, your lack of paintbrush or canvas wouldn’t even matter. You’d use your fingers if you needed to. It bothers you so much that you get up in the middle of clearing away the meal and go to your room for the pastels and notebook. You need to get it on a page at least.

You push a few plates to the side, folding out your notebook and immediately marking the page up with a creamy white pastel. Bea teases you when she comes over to take the rest of the dirty dishes, but you just mumble something unintelligible, too engrossed with smudging the sunset into something that looks like what you’d seen out the window. When the oranges and yellows blend to your satisfaction you take the black and brown and draw in the top of your friends’ heads, not thinking about how much attention to detail you’re paying to the shape of Charles’ side profile.

When you’re finished, you’re surprised to see that the table is cleared save for a few half-full wine glasses and a fresh bottle. Only Chloe, Rowan and Charles are still sitting by you. You’re listening to another Piero Piccioni album now, or maybe just the other side of the record. You remember saying goodnight to the others and saying yes to a glass of wine, so you’ve not been totally dead to the world, but it’s all in a bit of a haze.

You think this might be part of the reason why you can’t hold down a boyfriend. The disappearing into your art like you cant breathe until it’s finished. That may as well be the case if you’re honest.

You sigh, wiping your stained fingers on the next blank page, then you take a long sip from your glass of merlot, pretending you dont notice the others’ eyes on you.

“All done?” Chloe quips, somewhere on the border of teasing and being annoyed at you.

You look at her, your eyes just narrowing enough for her to notice. She does and purses her lips. You raise an eyebrow to ask okay, what’s your fucking problem? And you see her eyes flash to Charles. You follow her gaze to see him and Rowan pretending to look disinterested in your answer. Charles is tracing the base of his wine glass and absently biting the inside of his mouth. You have to tear your eyes away.

“All done,” you answer, tone clipped, before gathering your things (including the wine glass) and leaving the room in a move you hope doesn’t come off as too rude.

At your back you hear Rowan ask Chloe, “What was that?”

Chloe means well, you think as you wind through the villa, making your way to the balcony overlooking the private beach. She wants you to be happy and she thinks you need a boyfriend to be happy. But she’d found the love of her life in Rowan after only a few years of dating around and she doesn’t quite understand that it’s never going to work like that for you. There aren’t enough people out there that understand the kind of passion you have for your art and certainly not many that would also be compatible with you. You’re fine with that, but Chloe doesn’t know what to do with it. Especially not now she’s cottoned onto the fact that you have some kind of interest in Charles. It’s killing her.

It’s irrelevant though, whatever interest you have in Charles doesn’t factor into anything. He’s cute, he’s nice, but so were the dozen boys that you’ve already dated and not continued dating. So really, Chloe needs to stop pushing it because it’s pissing you off. You’re here for a holiday, not to be forced into conversations with a guy you don’t know. If she needs to have an argument to finally understand that, then so be it. You’ve been friends for years, it’ll blow over eventually.

You flick a switch and blinking lights illuminate the balcony. Fairy lights are wound up the posts and draped on the awning, intertwining with the lush green vines that have grown up through the wood slats. The air is balmy and the breeze light as you settle into one of two cushioned chairs situated by a coffee table. It’s perfect. You spread the oil pastels out next to your glass of wine and set your open notebook on your crossed legs, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore.

You’re alone for what feels like a long time but is probably only an hour or two.

When the sliding door clunks open you expect it to be Chloe coming over to have it out, but it’s not. Instead, Charles slips through the gap with the rest of the wine gripped in one hand.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling at you in a way that makes dimples carve in his cheeks, and dashing any hopes you have that he’d walk right past you.

“Hey,” you forget yourself for a moment and bite your lip on a broad smile.

He holds the bottle out toward you, offering more. You lean over your notebook and hold your empy wine glass up in acceptance.

���Merci,” you say, and in a moment of weakness (and probable wine drunk-ness) you gesture at the plush chair across from you.

Charles, somewhat caught off guard, looks between your outstretched hand, the chair, and your face, before shaking his head almost imperceptibly and finally taking a seat. Despite his apparent shock, you find it hard to believe he’d come out here simply to offer you some of the last of the wine. Surely, this is Chloe and Rowan’s doing. Though, strangely, you cant quite bring yourself to care.

He sets the bottle on the coffee table, next to your oil pastels. You lean forward to place a few back in their rightful spots, snagging your wine glass as you go.

Charles eyes’ scan your face for a moment, searching for something you suppose, then he points at your notebook, “Have you been drawing?”

You nod, “Mmm.”

You think perhaps the answer is a bit obvious. He seems to realise this, you watch a blush spread onto the top of his cheeks and he flutters his eyelids slightly, almost like rolling his eyes at himself. You don’t think about his eyelashes, thick and dark as they brush against his cheekbone, and you don’t think about his eyes, the lights reflecting off them, making them sparkle.

“What are you drawing then?” he asks after a moment of collecting himself, an edge of embarrassment to his voice.

You give in easily to the strange urge you have to show him, grabbing the notebook off your lap and holding it out for him to see what you’d been scribbling in the book for the past two hours. You let him take it off your hands, ignoring the spike of anxiety. He holds it gingerly, like it's a precious artefact (of course, to you, it is), which makes something warm bloom in your chest. You take a sip of wine and gesture for him to flip through a few pages, which he seems hesitant to do without permission. The book is angled in such a way that you can see most of the page, so you’re content to let him. Or at least you are until he flips to the page you’d started when you’d first come out here.

Panic drops like a stone in your gut because he’s looking right at a fully rendered drawing of his eyes. It’s in amongst some pillars strung with lights and covered in climbing vines; your best attempt at capturing the way the beach looked earlier in the day; and, perhaps your saving grace, Chloe half asleep on her towel. But the drawing of her is haphazard, it’s half-scribbled and half-finished, whereas the one of Charles eyes’ is as detailed as the sunset scene you’d done the page before. It had been something you just needed to get out, drawn in one of those hazes of yours. You’d felt better after it was done, your hands had stopped feeling like they were itchy.

Now, you itch to snatch the notebook off him, but you fear that would be even more incriminating. So you watch him look at the page and try to sit with the panicked feeling spreading in your chest.

Eventually, he points at the page, “Is this me?”

You bite your lip, breathing slowly through your nose to try and abate the blush spreading up your neck. You don’t say anything exactly, just shrug and rock your head back and forth in a kind of confirmation that doesn’t really admit anything. Though, there’s no denying the drawing is him.

“It’s good,” he says, seemingly stumbling over the words, “It’s very good.”

You frown into your drink, “Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

You know he means it. It’s not that.

“Yes,” you put down the wine glass, looking at him but avoiding eye contact, “I know. I know it’s good. I’m just… I’m embarrassed,” you admit.

He furrows his eyebrows– or it’s more that he squints and his eyebrows fold in with it. You watch his tongue dart out to run across the top of his bottom lip and you stamp down the less than innocent thoughts that come bubbling up at that. He waves the hand that’s not still holding carefully onto your notebook about for a moment, trying to conjure up words that he doesn’t have yet.

Slowly, he says, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. I– It’s–”

He’s about to say flattering, so you cut him off, not wanting to hear the tone of it, whether it be pity or something else entirely.

You try to explain yourself, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Like after dinner,” you reach forward and flip the page back one, to the sunset, “I have to get it onto paper. Or… or… it just runs laps in my head for the rest of eternity, I guess. I don’t stop thinking about it.”

You cringe internally. You’ve just told him that you were so consumed by thoughts of his eyes that you had to draw them immediately. That is perhaps worse than just wanting to draw him because you thought he was cute. Charles raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised by your admission, but there’s perhaps also something sincere in there? You can’t pinpoint it, but it makes you feel a fraction better you think.

You sigh forlornly, “That’s weirder, huh?”

He laughs, properly laughs, and it sends some strange feeling skittering down your spine, “No. No, I get it. I don’t have any way to get it down as quickly as I’d like, but I definitely understand the feeling.”

You bite the inside of your lip, hesitant but still curious, “You understand the feeling? Really?”

“Yes,” he smiles easily now, relaxing more in the chair after he places your notebook onto the counter with a cautiousness you still don’t expect, “For me, with racing, it’s like I get an idea and I can’t sleep until I try it on track or talk about it with someone. Some of them don’t work, or aren’t possible, which is fine, but if it sounds right to me and it checks out with the people that it needs to, then, well, then it literally does run laps in my head.”

You laugh, mostly to yourself. You’re not sure yet if he understands what you’re saying, but he’s trying. That’s more than you can say for a lot of people. You try not to let that thought linger for too long.

“You think it’s similar?” you ask in a way you desperately hope comes across as curious and not accusatory.

He hums, waving his hand around again for words, “Perhaps. I think the urgency is the same. The passion is the same. Do you ever feel like something terrible will happen if you can’t–”

“Yes,” you’re a bit breathless in your haste to agree, to talk about this feeling with someone who understands, “Yes. I do. It’s like I need to put it somewhere before I lose it. Otherwise, it won’t be perfect, or it’ll be too late.”

“Exactly,” his eyes seem to light up, for a long second you watch the flickering lights reflect in them, “Exactly.”

“It’s never as good as I want it to be,” you admit, finding it easier to look him in the eye now that some strange barrier between you has been broken, “It’s never quite how I imagine it in my head.”

Charles points at your notebook, “These are very good, really. I don’t see how they could be better. But,” he shrugs, “Eh, I will win a race and still think of everything I did wrong.”

You nod eagerly in understanding as you lean back into the chair, finally relaxing into the cushions. It’s strange to have this conversation, knowing you’re talking about two entirely different careers, but feeling like they’re so similar. Maybe it’s just you and Charles that are similar, maybe your jobs have nothing to do with it? You don’t know, you just know it’s nice to feel like someone gets what you’re talking about.

Charles continues, speaking like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get this off his chest, “It’s there all the time, do you know what I mean? Maybe I’m not thinking about it every second, but it’s always there waiting for something to draw attention to it. And people ask what else is going on in my life, and of course I do other things, and I enjoy other things, but I want to be on the track. I want to be driving whenever I can.”

You nod again, more subdued now, “Mmm, right. I want to be making art all the time, and when I can’t it’s like missing a limb. To me art is– it– it’s like–”

“–breathing,” he finishes, almost the lilt of a question to it, but not really, it’s like he knows exactly what you mean… how you feel.

You exhale, long and slow, “Yeah. Like breathing.”

Both of you are quiet for a little after that. You’re trying not to stare at him, but it’s not easy. He’s looking at you almost blatantly and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks the longer he stares. The air feels thick with some feeling you can’t place. All you know is there are butterflies in your stomach and a smile keeps pulling at the edge of your pursed lips.

The smile takes over as you catch him starry-eyed in your peripheral vision, you mutter, “Stop that. Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

You tip your head back so you can’t see him looking at you, “Because.”

“Because?” he laughs breathily, shaking his head at you, “Okay, well, tell me if I’m misreading anything, but I’m pretty sure that drawing of me in your notebook says something, at least.”

You run a hand down your face, sighing loudly, “Yes, okay. I suppose it does. But– I–” for a moment you struggle for the right words to explain yourself, “I guess I’m not really looking to date anyone.”

He tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows and looking for all intents and purposes, like a confused puppy, “You guess?”

You nod, resisting the urge to just launch over the table and grab his face. He is very cute and he is making this so hard for you.

He sucks his teeth briefly, shrugging, “I’m not really either.”

“Alright,” you say, “Good.”

As over as that should make the issue, strangely enough it doesn’t feel like you’re done with Charles Leclerc and it certainly doesn’t feel like he’s done with you either.

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Amalfi Coast, Italy

You try to avoid Charles after that, you really do, but he doesn’t quite let you.

For a few days of the holiday you give him pointed looks and purse your lips a lot when he’s around. Chloe catches on straight away and that makes it all infinitely worse until she finally realises she might need to leave you alone (yeah, shocker). When Chloe finally forces everyone to get off your back about Charles, it becomes much easier to be around him. You’re not glaring at your friends while they make eyes at you, or worrying if you’re acting weird; you’re just allowed to be.

It’s nice. He’s nice.

But you knew that already.

Neither of you are looking for a relationship so there’s no pressure for it to be anything at all. But you have this sneaking suspicion that perhaps both of you are looking for a relationship with eachother regardless. You try to ignore the thought.

On day five, you’re sitting together on an outcropping of rock that overlooks the ocean and you’re letting Charles doodle in your notebook with a ballpoint pen. The bare skin of both your arms are pressed together, they stick with sweat from the hot midday sun but neither of you seem to care. As you watch him doodle inexpertly you can smell him— salt and sweat and whatever cologne he uses masking the very faint scent of burning rubber. Your hair, still damp, brushes his forearm, you wonder if you smell of acrylic paint and mildew from all the water cups you accidentally leave out for your paintbrushes.

You reach out to trace a line he’d made, “Here, it should be more like…” you taper off, taking the pen from his hand and quickly fixing the curve of the beach before handing the utensil back.

“Hmm,” he hums, giggling a little, “I guess that looks better.”

“You guess?”

He nods, “What if I had a very specific vision?”

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, leaning back to look him in the eye you tease, “A vision. Did you?”

He tilts his head down to look at you. You’re very close now, you can feel his breath fanning over your face. In the reflection of his sunglasses you watch your lips part slightly and your eyelids flutter. Your chest grows tight with anticipation and maybe a little bit of panic. Still, you reach out and slide his sunglasses up to settle in his hair. You’re a little careless, but you like the way his hair pokes out from them at odd angles. As he breathes out you hear it catch for a split second.

“Did you?” you repeat, knowing he won’t remember what you were talking about.

He blinks twice, still staring at you, “Hmm?”

“You said you had a vision,” you breathe.

“Oh,” as he says it, his eyes flicker down to your mouth, only for a second, but it’s long enough to you know you’re done for.

You both lean in at the same time, your noses sliding off each other in your eagerness. You breathe a kind of laugh into his mouth and you feel him try to suppress a smile against your lips. It’s slow for the first few seconds, just you and Charles figuring out how your mouths fit together. His mouth is warm and wet and so soft, and it’s easy to lose yourself in it. You move the hand that had adjusted his sunglasses, sliding it up his shoulder to the back of his muscled neck. Your fingers weave into the short hair at the base of it, your nails scratching absently there. He groans, ever so slightly into your mouth and it sends heat skittering down your spine, into the low of your gut.

The hand of his that isn’t clutching onto your notebook slips forward and winds around to press at your bare back. He pulls you closer to him as you slide your hand up to cup the back of his head, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Soon it’s a mess of tongue and teeth and Charles blindly shoving your notebook somewhere it wont slip into the water so he can grab you with both hands. He tastes like red wine and coffee and you love the way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his teeth have been grazing at your bottom lip, like he wants to sink into it.

You’re almost in his lap when you’re forced to pull away for air.

Foreheads pressed together, you breathe heavily into the space between you. Your hand is still stuck in his hair and one of his on the small of your back, the other holding your knee. The sides of your noses touch, you nudge yours against his affectionately, tempted by the proximity of his mouth.

He laughs and you feel it against your lips, intermingling with your own breath, “Alright. That was–”

“Yeah,” you finish, dipping forward to kiss him again.

You’re lost for another few minutes. Tongue and teeth and the sound of the waves crashing against the rock behind you. And his hand on your jaw and in your hair and pulling you closer closer to him.

He pulls away this time, turning his head to press your cheeks together, mouth at your ear, “So,” he drags the word out with a laugh, “are you looking for a relationship now?”

You snort unceremoniously, and tease, “Hmm. I guess I would be amenable to that.”

“You guess?” he asks— but not really needing to at all because you can feel his dimples pressing into your cheek as he smiles knowingly.

You nod, smiling too, “I guess.”

🎨 yes of course i made a playlist>> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6cAJaZjvK0V7SrmxoMosBX?si=ADlJGHxxQYKnlZ1jWFJxfw&pi=a-AI0MKbo3RTqE

taglist: (pls message if you'd like to be added to the taglist for charles. my yuck! one is full so need to start a new one😭)