#but I wanted a baby and I don’t have one and I don’t know if I’ll ever have one

[starmocha]

I've got this doubt that I can't shake off: if MC's pregnancy, for some reason, is a very tough and risky one (both might die or something), which one of the guys would have the saddest breakdown at some point (just ugly crying into MC's arms after months of keeping it together for her sake) and which would have the angriest (trashing entire offices, taking their anger out on their enemies or both)?

(I had intended to respond earlier, but man…that trailer…) Gosh, you guys know how to prod at that special part of my brain with these asks lately… 🥺 I may or may not have...started writing...little...snippets, really... 😔

Zayne would go into “doctor-mode.” He is going to utilize his medical knowledge and resources to give you the best care possible for both you and the baby, and while it seems you have nothing to worry about, you will feel the emotional-withdrawal from him as everything will feel so methodical and clinical and he forgets completely his role as a husband until you break down crying.

You had tried to keep your emotions in check these last few months, rationalizing that Zayne was never an expressive person, but his feelings and actions were always sincere. He was pacing across the bedroom reviewing with you about your recent prenatal checkup and what it meant for both you and this baby. It had been like this for several months now, and with your weak heart and the risk it posed for both you and the baby, Zayne had been extra attentive about your prenatal care.

As you sat on your bed, heavy with his child and close to your due date, listening to him rattle off different medical terms and speaking to you less as a wife but more as if you were his patient, you could feel your emotions peaking. You couldn’t remember the last time he was affectionate with you or actually asked how you were personally feeling throughout this whole pregnancy. He was by your side more, but you had never felt as lonesome as now, needing him back as your husband and not a doctor. You could feel the tears brimming, but it was getting harder each day to suppress your feelings.

Everything Zayne was saying sounded like muffled gibberish to you. You could barely focus on the present, barely acknowledging even the faint movements of the baby you were carrying, feeling more lost in your loneliness. You finally let your emotions and hormones collide and broke down crying in front of him, startling him immediately. Within seconds, he was on his knees before you, grasping your arms as he asked worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you hurting somewhere?”

It took you a minute to gather yourself before you felt calm enough to speak, finally revealing to him how you hated who he had become during this time. At first, Zayne looked shocked, not quite comprehending what you had just said to him, but the more he pondered your hurt words, the more he realized there was a lot of truth in what you had said.

He kissed your belly, surprising you. Then, he got up and sat down next to you on the bed, pulling you into his embrace as he kissed your forehead, his apologies immediate and sincere.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, holding you a little tighter, “I just…don’t want anything to happen to you. Either of you.”

You leaned into his embrace, and sighed softly, “I know…I’m not mad at you. I’m just…”

Zayne looked down, noticing how your words gradually stopped and you were withdrawing again. He lifted your chin, making you look at him as he coaxed you gently, “Just what?”

“I just miss you,” you said, voice breaking again and fresh tears brimmed your eyes. As he brushed your tears away, you cried harder, “And I’m scared…and I can’t stop thinking about all of the things that could go wrong…and then I realize stressing over this is also hurting the baby and…and…”

Zayne looked guilty as he realized that while he was too focused on your physical health, he had neglected your mental and emotional state, realizing how you had been suppressing your feelings for his sake.

He sat back against the headboard and pulled you back to rest against him. He apologized again for his neglect, and for the rest of that night, he listened and comforted you through your anxieties. There was that familiar warmth in his embrace that you missed, and the softness in his eyes returned as he listened to you earnestly. While your anxieties were still there, they seemed more manageable now that you realized the man by your side in this moment was not Doctor Zayne but your Zaynie, your beloved husband.

Rafayel is angry and emotional and will lash out and say things he doesn’t mean, such as he would rather lose the baby than you.

It had been like walking on eggshells these past few months. You had tried to keep your spirits up in spite of the situation, but eventually everything that had been quieted was going to surface, reaching an ugly peak.

You just had never expected him to say such words to you.

“You…don’t want…the baby?” You felt like you were choking as you uttered those words back to Rafayel.

He looked conflicted, his face twisted in pain and frustration. “I…I didn’t mean it,” he finally said, seeming to struggling with not just his words, but also his feelings.

You glared at him with tears in your eyes. “You said it! What could you have possibly meant to say if not that!”

“I don’t want to lose you!” he finally yelled back, frustrated that his words were being used against him by you of all people.

A strained silence filled the space, creating a rift between the two of you as you stared at one another in shock. In the distant, there was the cries of seagulls flying outside the studio, the sound of waves crashing on the shore a peculiar reminder that time was still moving forward even as you two stood frozen, locked in this seemingly unbreakable tension.

After several beats, Rafayel dropped to his knees, his head buried into his hands as he apologized, though it seemed more like he was apologizing for hurting you and not because of what he had said.

You walked closer to him, surprised when his arms wrapped around your waist, and his face pressed against your rounded stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. He didn’t look up at you, but his words were heard clear: “I just can’t lose you again.”

You stared down at his head of hair, unsure of what you could say in this moment. He looked so broken and helpless, and while you understood his sentiments, it still did nothing to alleviate the hurt you felt at his earlier words. Shakily, you let your hand rest on the back of his head, as you said softly, “My fishie…I won’t leave you…”

You said that to comfort him, but even you had doubts about whether you could hold true to your words. It was so bright and sunny outside in Linkon today, so why did your future look so gray and uncertain? This was to be a joyous time in both of your lives, but even as you both felt the baby kicked and moved, that cloud of doubt remained.

Xavier is stunned and feels helpless.

It had been an awkward couple of weeks. Xavier was quieter than usual, but he still answered you whenever you spoke. You didn’t think he was upset at you, but you also couldn’t ignore the sudden distance between the two of you.

“Captain Jenna had put me on desk duty for the remainder of my pregnancy,” you told him over dinner one night.

He didn’t answer you, appearing distracted as he was grilling some beef slices on an electric griddle.

“Xavier?”

“Huh?” He looked up, surprised. “Oh, sorry, I had something on my mind. What did you say?”

“I…I said Captain Jenna is putting me on desk duty,” you repeated hesitantly.

“That’s good,” he answered and picked a slice of beef off the griddle to place in your bowl. “You should have some more meat for protein.”

“…thank you,” you said, noticing the way his eyes kept averting with yours. You placed your bowl on the table, upset now. “Xavier, did I do something wrong?”

He looked taken aback by the sudden question. He immediately shook his head. “Wrong? Why would you even think that?”

You frowned. “You’ve barely spoken with me lately,” you said, “It’s been nothing but ‘yeah,’ ‘okay,’ ‘alright’ from you lately.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked at you with remorse etched on his face. He sighed as he turned the griddle off before he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I…I just have something on my mind.”

“You keep saying that,” you retorted, mildly irked now, “What could be on your mind that is more important than being here with me?”

“You.”

Your irritation disappeared in that moment, his solemn gaze resting on you. Slowly, you found your voice, your words stuttering a little in confusion, “Wha…what do…you mean?”

“You and the baby,” he clarified. “Ever since the doctor said this was a high-risk pregnancy, I just…can’t stop thinking about…everything that could go wrong.”

“Xavier…”

“I don’t know how to make this easier for you,” he continued, suddenly unable to hide his anxiety any longer, “And even if we do everything right, what if things go wrong at the last minute? What if—no, just…no…”

You gasped when he suddenly came to you, his arms wrapped around you immediately in a tight embrace. He kissed the top of your head and apologized again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Xavier…it will be alright,” you reassured him.

He was silent.

“We’ll both be alright,” you continued.

“Right…” he answered, but you noticed he still didn’t want to let you go. You also didn’t want him to part, so you both remained in this moment a while longer.

Sylus has all of the money and connections in the world. He is going to ensure that both you and the baby will be alright throughout the pregnancy until birth. On the surface, he seems calm and confident, but to keener eyes, such as yours, you will pick up on his anxiety through little tics or behavioral changes.

The moment you had told Sylus you were pregnant with his baby, he lavished you with even more luxuries than before. You received the best care possible, especially when it came to light that this pregnancy was not going to be easy for you and there was concern about the health of the baby. Sylus made sure the most qualified doctors were monitoring you and he had ordered the personal chefs to prepare only nutritional dishes for you and the baby.

He was adamant that you received only the best of the best, and to strangers, Sylus appeared to be so level-headed and grounded, not a trace of worry could be seen on his face.

You, however, noticed how he seemed to drum his fingers on hard surfaces more often. He would also pull out his coin to flip at the most peculiar time, and his visits to the boxing ring also seemed to have increased. There were so many odd tics that you couldn’t ignore, but you suspected you knew the reason why.

One evening, you slipped into bed earlier while Sylus was still sleeping. It would almost be time for him to wake up from his slumber, so you waited. When you noticed the fluttering of his eyes, you leaned in closer, smiling as your face was the first thing he saw once he awoken.

“Good morning,” you greeted him with a mischievous smile, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Mm…morning,” he answered back in amusement, still a little groggy and bleary-eyed. He yawned. “What did I do to deserve seeing such a sweet sight first thing after waking up?”

“I wanted to talk.”

His mirth disappeared in that instance upon hearing your stern tone. He shifted in bed, sitting up with his back to the headboard. “Is something the matter?”

“You tell me.”

Sylus shook his head in confusion. “Sweetie, you are going to have to elaborate more,” he responded with a frown. “What are we talking about?”

“Are you…worried?”

“Worry?”

You rested a hand over your belly, his gaze instantly following your movement. “About the pregnancy,” you clarified.

“Of course I worry,” he answered back in that same even tone.

“You…seemed so assured, but lately, I’ve noticed these little…tics,” you explained, elaborating to him more in details as he listened patiently. When you finished, Sylus gently pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his. His arm wrapped around you, his hand resting on your belly to rub gentle little circles.

“I will always worry about you,” he said, “but panicking over things will not achieve anything, so I just redirected my worries elsewhere. Is that a problem?”

You shook your head and looked up at him. “No, I was just…wondering if you wanted to talk about them with me.”

He laughed and bent down to peck your lips. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“What if I want to?”

He smiled in amusement and kissed you again. “Then who am I to argue with my pregnant wife?”

“What would you do?”

“Do what?”

“If…I don’t ma—”

“You will be fine,” he immediately cut you off, his demeanor shifting entirely. “You will both be fine.”

“But—”

He lay back down in bed, pulling you closer to him in a tighter embrace. “Lull me to sleep,” he said instead.

“But isn’t it time for you to wake—” You clammed up when he shot you a pointed look. You could sense his unease, feeling his fingers digging into your flesh a little more. He was upset, deeply troubled, and you hated how he carried that burden alone on his shoulders.

“Alright,” you answered, snuggling into his embrace. You sang a song, a lullaby you had learned recently that you hoped to sing to your baby in a few months. As you sang, Sylus quietly hummed along, and it wasn’t long before you both fell asleep together, your worries left behind as you dreamed of the upcoming months when a new bundle of joy would arrive at Onychinus’ base.

Caleb is nervous, but he pours himself into taking care of you, because that is all he has ever known. He’s never liked seeing you ill or hurt, so he is going to do everything possible to make sure you receive the best care ever. He will do a lot of research and ask as many questions as he could to gain insight on what can be done to minimize the risk so both you and the baby will make through the pregnancy as safely as possible. He does not even want to consider the possibility of losing you.

You didn’t have any autonomy over yourself anymore. Whatever you wanted to do, Caleb did it for you first. Whatever you were craving, he would negate it half the time, citing it was better for you to eat a healthier alternative.

Even though you wanted to be mad at him, you knew he was doing this out of worry after the reveal that there were some concerns about this pregnancy. The moment that you had heard the word “risky,” everything afterwards suddenly sounded muffled as you were frozen in shock, a sudden anxiety creeping in as you stared down at your belly. Meanwhile, Caleb was already proactive, asking what needed to be done, what you both needed to be aware of, and so on and so forth. As if he could sense your worries, his hands immediately rested on your shoulders as he stood behind you while he continued to converse with the doctor.

He was your pillar and your protector. He always was, and he always will be.

Even if sometimes you found him to be overbearing.

You had missed many of his more indulgent dishes ever since he had put you on a clean-diet, and each time, you made a point of letting him know just how upset you were as you sulked when he finished setting the table with steamed fish and green veggies with bamboo shoots.

“It’s only temporary,” he reassured you, smiling to himself as he watched you picked at the fish half-heartedly.

“Most women get to enjoy their cravings while pregnant,” you said sullenly, taking a small bite of the fish.

He nodded in agreement as he sat down opposite of you. “If this was a normal pregnancy, then of course you should be able to indulge on your cravings—”

You looked at him hopefully.

“But your cholesterol level is higher than normal, and we also need to be cautious about the risk of developing gestational diabetes—”

You sulked again. “You are killing my appetite again.”

Caleb laughed softly as he set his chopsticks down. He cocked his head to the side, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he leaned forward on the table. “What are you craving, pipsqueak?”

“What does it matter? You won’t let me have anything…” You bit into your bamboo shoot, not making eye contact with him.

“Pretend I will,” he answered in the same tone.

You shrugged. “…Pasta.”

“Pasta? Okay,” he answered thoughtfully, “What else?”

“Hmm…pizza…cheesecake…dumplings…”

Caleb covered his mouth to suppress his laughter as he watched you list each food longingly, practically lost in your own world and not even paying attention to him anymore. When it seemed you had finished listing, he questioned you again, “That’s all?”

You sighed and shook your head.

“What else is there? You’ve practically listed all of the food available on takeout menus,” he teased.

“…Braised chicken wings…”

Caleb looked surprised. “What?”

“Your braised chicken wings,” you clarified and looked up to meet his surprised gaze.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll make some braised chicken wings tomorrow for dinner.”

You perked up. “R-really?” You eyed him suspiciously. “What about my clean diet?”

“In moderation would be fine,” he answered, smiling, “Besides, having the mother of my child miserable the whole time is also not good for the baby.”

You huffed at him, annoyed. “I’m miserable because of you.”

He blinked, not expecting you to suddenly be mad at him again. “I’m only—”

“I can’t enjoy the food I like, I’m tired all of the time, I can’t even see my feet anymore, my back hurts, my feet are swollen—how am I fat when I’m not even eating anything yummy?!”

“…are you having a mood swing?”

“Yes!” you cried out hysterically, nearly sobbing, “It’s your fault, too, I can’t control my hormones right now!”

Caleb laughed helplessly as he stood from his seat and crossed over to your side. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his waist, your face buried against his stomach as you continued to cry and list your grievances with him.

“Alright, alright, it is my fault I gotten you pregnant,” he agreed. He peered down at the top of your head, smiling when you sniffled against his shirt while he rubbed the back of your head soothingly.

“…dummy…”

“Yes, yes, I’m a dummy,” he continued in a very pacifying tone.

“…A big dummy…”

“Mmhmm…”

“The biggest…”

“Right, right…”

You looked up, suspicious again when he continued to be very agreeable. You yelped in surprise when he immediately grabbed your face and leaned down to steal your lips with his. It took you a few seconds to register that he was kissing you before you gave in, feeling a warmth in your chest at his sudden display of affections.

“What else?” he asked softly when he pulled back a few centimeters, still close enough that his breath brushed against your trembling lips while his eyes locked with yours. You could feel his thumb brushing away the tears that were still on your cheeks.

“…you…”

“Me?”

“Uh huh…”

“What do you want from me?”

“Just you…”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “Alright, pipsqueak,” he said, “You have me. I am all yours. Forever.”

You guided his hand down to your pregnant belly, smiling when that same look of surprise crossed his face again when he felt the baby kicked. Your smile widened as you answered him, “You’re ours.”

He knelt down on one knee, his large hand still resting over your belly as he smiled back before his eyes drifted down to your stomach. “Yeah,” he said, sighing almost as if in disbelief by this current life he was living, “Both of yours. Forever.”

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirty-three —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4.5k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. harm to a child. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: clearly I am bad at estimating how long this story will take lol

Alexandre is not as susceptible to pain.

The guard outside his home didn’t register his death, not with Ghost as a shadow at his back. One wrench to his neck, and Kyle plucked the key off his corpse, gently opening the planked door. As the three of them swept the inside, you and Ari hoisted the body in. A sudden crash of breaking glass and the sounds of a struggle made it clear—they got Alexandre. He must have woken up.

But restrained to a dining chair by chains from the slaughterhouse, all he offers up is a bloody tooth on the floor—nothing about Blue or the weapons.

"Brûlez en enfer, pécheurs!"

Ghost snarls and tears a fistful of hair from his scalp. Alexandre only spits more blood, teeth clenched.

"He's wasting our time," you mutter, dread curling in your chest. A glance at the window—the sky could turn deep purple any second. You touch Ghost's elbow. "We should just look for—"

"He'll talk."

Ghost draws the knife. He drives his knuckles into Alexandre’s mouth, smothering the scream as the blade severs his pinky. Blood spills over raw bone. Finally, he writhes—eyes rolling back, knees violently shaking.

"Tell us where everything is, or these go next," Ghost snaps, holding up his middle and ring fingers.

He pulls his fist from his mouth. Alexandre sputters, lips twitching from the pain. Under his breath, he groans, "Sal... Mon enfant."

"What is he saying?" Kyle presses.

Ghost positions the knife at the next digit. "Speak up. English."

Alexandre's eyes threaten to close. He whispers something quieter—

"Salome?" you speak up.

His eyes snap open at the name.

You lower beside Ghost, leaning closer, your eyes darting over his swollen face. "Salome. Your 'enfant.' The child is yours, isn’t it?" A flicker of rage flares in his nostrils, and you quietly press on, "You must be worried about her. She was tending to us, you know. Don’t you want to know if she lives? It'd be a shame if she doesn’t. She was so excited for the baby, especially after losing the first one in the winter. I’m guessing that one was yours, too." You let the words hang, then wet your lips, feigning consideration. "The thing is, it’s been a long night. My memory’s hazy. Can’t recall if I slit her throat or not, but I do remember her begging me to spare her—for the child’s sake."

At this, he jolts. "Tu fais chier—"

Ghost covers his mouth.

You keep your voice smooth. "Maybe if you tell us where the girl and the weapons are, I’ll remember. Otherwise, he’ll kill you, and you’ll die not knowing."

The silence breaks as Ghost drives the knife into the base of his finger. Alexandre grits out, "The girl... I don’t know where my mother kept her. But if sunrise is near... She could be at the chapel now, to prepare."

The one you saw? "How many chapels are there here?" you ask.

"Only one for... offerings."

You glance at Ghost and whisper, "If we can find the road, I could get us back to it."

He nods, not looking away from Alexandre. "The guns," he says. "Where are they?"

"I can... show you."

"You're not showing us shit. Tell us exactly where to find them."

Alexandre holds his gaze. "I could tell you wrong, yes? Waste your time. Or I can show you, and you can kill me if they’re not there."

"Don’t let him play games, Simon," Price calls from behind.

Ghost exhales roughly.

Alexandre looks at you. "But you must tell me of Salome first."

"She's alive," you tell him. "But if you don’t show us where the guns are, it’s not just you who will die."

The chains bite into his wrists as Ghost yanks him up by his soiled lapel. A pistol pressed to his temple, Alexandre stumbles forward, his feet dragging over the corpse at the door before leading you outside. The moonlight feels sharper, casting shadows over the pitted ground as you step carefully beside him, scanning the area. No more alarms yet. But when the guards change shifts, that won’t last.

No one speaks as he leads you around the pasture and barn, toward the back, where the silhouette of a small shed takes shape in the darkness. As you near, a three-tuned call cuts through the air, beckoning Alexandre's gaze to the sky, a soft murmur escaping his lips: "La tourterelle chante pour toi."

"Shut up."

Ghost strikes the back of his head with the gun to silence him.

You stop in front of the shed. It is only just bigger than the one you used to sleep in.

"Is this it?"

"Yes," Alexandre nods. "Inside."

Kyle is the one to kick open the door. As expected, the smell of rusty metal hits your nose as you take in the clutter of rakes, shovels, and scythes. There is a wheelbarrow against the wall with nothing inside but residual soil. No weapons in sight.

Ghost cocks the pistol. "You're fucking around with your kid's life—"

"Under the floor," Alexandre flinches, then juts his chin at the planks of wood, "The extra guns, ammo. It is under there."

Ghost shoves the gun into Kyle’s hand. Without hesitation, Kyle takes over, keeping it steady as Ghost drops to his knees, running his fingers over the floorboards. A sharp knock—hollow. He drives his knife between the slats and pries them open.

The unmistakable glint of metal catches your eye. Rifles. Green and gold cartridges, too. Ghost inhales sharply, tearing up more of the floor. Price moves in, yanking out boxes, sorting through the ammo they need to load up. You linger by the door, glancing back over your shoulder. The guns are yours. Now, you'll need to find the chapel. Maybe Blue isn’t there yet. Maybe you can get there first.

Lost in thought, you almost miss it—that softly cooing dove, the kind you used to wake up to in England. Again, Alexandre mutters in French beside you where Kyle quiets him with a shove at his shoulder. Then you detect a shift in the air—no, you squint and realize it is movement in the grass by the barn.

Alexandre suddenly shouts, "La tourterelle chante pour toi!"

The echo of his words is followed by the crack of a pistol. Kyle’s shot strikes his head, and his body crumples at your feet.

You whip around, panic flaring in your chest as you look at Ghost. "Someone was there. He said something to warn them. They're going to wake up the others!"

Ghost's glare snaps towards Kyle. "The gunshot probably already did."

Kyle releases a growl. "Fuck, I didn't think—"

"Take this," Price interrupts, throwing a loaded rifle at Kyle. 

For you, Nereida, and Ari, a small handgun.

But by the time your finger seeks out the trigger, you hear a myriad of voices shout from the barn.

B

Blue sits at a small table. Across from her is that old woman, eating silently. Only the sound of metal on ceramic, and gentle chewing, fills the dining room. Blue's teeth mechanically grind a tart, red berry into pulp, then let it slide down her throat, her eyes never leaving the white plate. On the faintly reflective surface, a years-old memory blurs into focus.

She sits in the back of her dad’s truck, her small hands folded in her lap. The air is thick with the smell of cigarette smoke. Her eyes are fixed on the passing buildings and people, the streets beginning to feel unfamiliar. Then, her dad mutters something low under his breath, the tires screeching as he sharply veers into a petrol station.

He unbuckles and slams the front door, moving quickly around the truck to help her out. "Come on, kid," he says quietly, lifting her up gently before setting her on the ground. Her hand slips instinctively into his.

"Don’t look at anyone," he mutters as he tugs her toward the small food mart.

"Why, daddy?" she whispers up at him.

"Because I said so."

"Why are we here?"

"I need to get something."

"What for?"

The silence stretches between them, and a cold knot of fear tightens in her stomach. He doesn’t answer, and she can’t remember how they got here. She had been in her bedroom, where her mother had told her to stay. There was shouting through the door before it flung open, then her father grabbed her, and suddenly, her mom’s voice faded behind them.

Her father guides her through the aisles, pulling items off shelves. She tries not to look at the old man nearby, her eyes fixed on the hem of his jacket, her fingers nervously tugging at it.

"Why isn’t my mum coming with us?" she asks.

He doesn't answer. They move to the cash register, and after he pays, they head back to the truck. Her eyes sting. She rips her hand from his and shakes her head, her voice breaking.

"I want to go back, daddy."

"You're not going back."

"I want to!"

He kneels in front of her, gripping her chin as her tears spill. A woman filling her car glances over, and he lowers his voice so only she can hear. "I know you're scared, but listen to me, Amelia. Remember that game we play? The one where the bad guys are after us, and we have to get away from them?"

She nods weakly, tears streaking down her face.

"What do we call each other when we play that game, baby?"

"Blue and Ghost," she answers, her voice small.

"Right. We’re playing it again, okay? But this time, it’s not a game. Right now, you’re Blue, and I’m Ghost. You listen to everything I say so I can keep you safe. Do you understand, Blue?"

She struggles to breathe.

"Tell me, do you understand?"

"Daddy, I—"

"No. Not daddy. Ghost."

"Ghost... please, I want to go home."

His voice repeats her new name, over and over, as he shakes her chin, and she cries harder. She looks over at the woman filling her car as she fades into something strange—milky eyes and grey skin—and when Blue looks back to her father, he’s gone. All that remains is the white plate, stained with red raspberry juice.

"Blue."

Blue lifts her gaze, her eyes locking on the old woman across from her. The woman's leathery skin shifts to grey in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. She chews a berry slowly, takes a sip of milk, then speaks. "Tell me. Why do you call yourself this?"

She struggles to pull her voice to the present, looking back at the plate and quietly answering after a moment, "It is... it is the name I've used to survive."

"You are a strong girl, that much is clear," Maman compliments idly. "But sometimes, God does not want us to fight. There is strength in acceptance."

When breakfast is finished, Eloise brushes her hair until it’s buttery soft down her back. Then, they leave. Blue smells the dew on the grass, her toes curling in her shoes to endure the pain of keeping up with them. No matter how lightly she spreads her weight, the wounds split wider, blood silently squishing beneath her soles. Any blood she left behind would be invisible in the dark, but Ghost always noticed things she never could. She picks at her fingernails as they reach a road, which reminds her of when they were walking through, seeing a few abandoned cars left at the sides.

They walk for some time until she smells the Greys. The rot is pungent in the brisk air. Then, she hears the low hum of hymns coming from a small building—a church. She only knows this because of a deep memory with the old woman she called grandmother who used to take her to one. The stained glass glows faintly with dim golden light inside. They approach the large door, and Blue stands outside it, her knees trembling, but her shoulders managing to stay upright.

Maman glances down at her, hand resting on the door. "In God's presence, Amelia, there is no need to survive anymore. You will accept his punishment—and his forgiveness. Tell me, do you understand?"

Blue grits her teeth.

The voice edges softer. "Do you understand, Amelia?"

"I understand."

Behind her, Eloise takes hold of her wrists and ties them together with what feels like prickly twine.

The door creaks open under Maman’s push, revealing rows of pews and cold stone walls. Blue swallows hard, tasting her own heartbeat in her throat as she takes in everything she can before stepping inside. The narrow aisle spills out into an altar, where the same two Greys they muzzled the other day are chained to the floor, their snarls and moans adding a discordant layer to the throaty hymns echoing from the right side of the church. There, the veiled women sit, their heads bowed. On the left, the men. A bony hand presses at her back, urging her forward. Through the fog of fear, she counts them: just three men, plus Pierre—the one from before—standing beside the leashed Greys.

The lingering scent of old blood mixes with the fresh, sharp tang of melting candlewax. Her footsteps are small, barely making a sound against the stone, and the pain seems to fade into nothingness, until she misteps around a scurrying rat. A sharp pang burns through her foot, forcing her teeth to grind. Tears well in her eyes, but she doesn’t let a single one fall, her focus locked on her surroundings. The flickering candles on the altar, the glint of Maman's knife as she unsheathes it, the flicker of hunger in the endless moans—each step draws her closer to the Greys.

When she finally stops, she stands between them, the chains and muzzles the only thing keeping their mouths from finding her flesh.

As Maman begins to murmur in French, a fleeting thought crosses her mind: Can her mother see her now, dressed in a beautiful gown, having grown into her features, even though the shape of her face still carries the strength of her father's? Can she see the fear she can no longer contain, spilling into violent breaths that tear through her chest?

"Venez vous nourrir de sa chair pure, et en retour, bénissez-nous avec plus de nourriture pour l'hiver et des bébés en bonne santé pour vos nouveaux peuples."

Beneath Maman's words, Blue hears something. A distant, piercing sound that reminds her of a gunshot.

Dad?

She glances at the door, then at the faces around her, but no one else seems to have heard it.

A cold hand snatches her arm, the unwounded one, and Blue whimpers. Then she is turned around to face the pews.

"Une coupure pour les faire festoyer!"

The knife draws a matching cut, the release of blood making the Greys jerk within their restraints.

A man stands and unlocks one Grey's chains, while Pierre handles the other. The screech of metal cuts through the air, and with a shout, the creatures are freed. Blue’s heart slams in her chest. Maman's low, cruel laugh reaches Blue's ears just as she drops to the ground and scrambles backward, bumping into the altar and making it rattle. She screams when rotten hands clamp around her ankles—instinct taking over. She wriggles free of her blood-soaked shoes and kicks them as far as possible toward the people in front of her.

The shoes hit the ground with a quiet squelch, and the Greys snap toward them, momentarily confused by their scent of blood. A veiled woman screams, her dress now stained with a red footprint, and the other women scramble for the door as the Greys hurl through the aisle. In that fleeting moment of distraction, Blue pushes herself up, hands shaking as she clutches the twine binding her wrists. She holds it over the candle, praying the small flame will burn through it.

"Come on, come on."

Just before the twine can snap, a hand yanks at her shoulder to spin her around.

"Stupid girl!"

Blue growls like a cornered animal and spits into Maman’s eyes. Sneering, Maman slashes the knife across Blue’s cheek, sending fresh blood down to her lips. The Greys, no longer distracted, screech as they again zero in on the scent of her bleeding wounds.

Through the pain, Blue strains with all her strength, forcing her wrists apart until the charred twine snaps, freeing her hands. Maman grabs her by the dress, but Blue blindly reaches for the only thing within reach—the candle—and jams the burning wick into the old woman's face.

"Fuck you!"

It is enough to make her writhe in pain, giving Blue the opening to snatch the knife from her hand. With a wrecked cry, she stabs the old woman’s throat, then kicks her in the stomach just as the Greys reach them. Maman’s mouth lets out a final gurgling, blood-soaked cry, and Blue watches, panting hard, as the Greys grab her and tear their teeth into her torn neck. 

"Maman!"

Pierre shouts, rushing over. 

Blue bolts away from them, her soaked feet nearly slipping. She shoves a screaming woman out of her way near the door and bursts outside into the breaking dawn. That's when she hears more gunshots, clearer in the open air, and spots a distant plume of smoke. Without hesitation, she runs in that direction.

T

The first round of gunfire kicks up dirt at your heels before you can even react. Ghost yanks you into a sprint, pulling you away from the shed. Men pour through the barn’s back door, giving chase. Somewhere in the chaos, you hear Price’s voice barking orders, his gunfire answering theirs—but there’s no time to look over your shoulder. Ghost grips your elbow and drags you behind an old tractor, shoving you into cover as bullets whizz through the air.

The others tumble beside you, Price forcing Nereida's head low behind the large tire. 

"There’s nowhere else to take cover," Kyle curses. He and Ghost peek over the tractor, firing off shots, but the sound of pounding boots grows closer. There are too many of them, and not enough time to stop their advance.

You swallow hard, heart pounding, and risk a quick glance around the tractor’s hood. The haystacks are right there, and you remember how dry they felt around your ankles when you covered the corpses. You grab Ghost by the wrist and pull your mouth to his ear so he can hear you.

"The hay is flammable—can you light it somehow?"

His jaw sets in understanding when your words register. He closes an eye and redirects his aim, instead firing rapidly at the base of one of the stacks. Stray sparks leap into the air, and for a moment, your stomach sinks when nothing happens. Then, the straw catches—one spark, then another, and the flames grow fast, swallowing vegetation along the ground. Thick, black smoke whips into the air.

"Il y a putain de feu!"

"Let's move!" Ghost shouts.

You're running again, using the distraction to your advantage, the veiled hood flying off your hair. The sudden silence in the gunfire gives you a moment to look around, and with a rush of terror, you realize that a sliver of sunlight has crept over the horizon. The sky above is no longer the pure black of night. 

"Simon, we have to get to her!"

"Where's the chapel?"

"I don't know! I-I need to see the road to find it."

The farm stretches out in every direction, the lack of light making it hard to see anything far off. You stop for a moment, trying to orient yourself. Maybe if you could just—

Another shot hits the ground, close enough to feel the heat on your toes. You barely catch a glimpse of the men still chasing you before a cloud of smoke bursts from the ground. It’s not from the fire he started—it’s a smoke bomb, just like the one they used to disorient you the first time.

The smoke stings your eyes and lungs. You clamp your mouth shut to avoid breathing it in.

"Drop to the ground!" Ghost growls in your ear, loud enough to hear over the gunfire you can only hope is coming from Kyle and Price. 

You obey, hitting the ground hard with his arm firm around your waist. He grips your dress, guiding you as you crawl through the smoke’s underbelly, where the air is clearer. Down here, you can see just enough to navigate forward, the blind gunfire whizzing harmlessly overhead. But as Ghost hauls you to your feet, a new panic grips you—you can no longer see the others.

"Where are they?" 

Through the tears in your eyes, you can't make out anything past the smoke at your backs. 

"Price can handle it. Come on."

For a brief second, you hesitate, torn between ensuring they’re alright and following him—but the encroaching sunrise makes the decision for you. There is nothing else you can do but keep running, hoping something will look familiar as you weave between nothing but stalks of wheat and the small homes. You’ve gained enough distance to escape their line of fire, and when you look back, the flames by the barn seem to have stopped swelling, but that is all you make out before something rams into your side.

"Femme pécheresse, regarde ce que tu as fait!"

The stray guard wrestles your body to the grass, a blade at your throat slicing a shallow welt into the skin, but he is ripped off you within seconds. Ghost breaks the man's neck, steals the pistol from his belt, then tosses it to you. He takes your free hand to help you up, and only as your finger smoothes over the trigger do you realize your other gun is gone.

He turns to keep moving, and part of you wants to sob in rage that you still don't know if you're even headed the right way. Then you see it—something in the grass. You grab his hand. "Look there. What is that?"

His gaze follows yours to the distinctive red stain embedded into the ground. Faint, but there. He leans down to touch it. "It's fresh."

"It could be hers, Simon," you urge.

He stalks forward, fingers hovering before pressing into a faint footprint. "It's her size. This way."

Blood smears lead you to the main road, and your chest tightens at the sight of the cars. This was the route through Fleurbaix. You recognize it. You scan both directions, spotting a white BMW in the distance—a flash of memory.

"I peed by that car. The chapel’s over there," you say, pointing to the stone roof barely visible ahead.

The sudden pierce of a scream confirms it.

B

Blue barely manages to get far before the sound of booted steps echoes behind her. She flits her head around in panic, ducking beneath the first car she sees and holding her breath. The distinct rustle of chains, accompanied by a snarl, unfurls her eyes. She glances up into the warped side mirror of another vehicle, catching sight of a cloaked figure. That man who'd helped Maman—Pierre—is looking around, one of the Greys in tow, its muzzle back on.

"Come out, petite fille. You cannot hide from a démon. Not when your smell is so strong."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she uses the sleeve of her dress to soundlessly wipe her bloody cheek as if that might help but pitifully realizes her feet and arm are even worse. The movement causes her bare foot to dig into a sharp rock, and she bites her tongue hard to keep from crying out. The footsteps halt, then switch directions.

When the Grey lunges toward the car, Blue leaps out and runs blindly, adrenaline pushing past the dizziness. Pierre shouts and follows, the Grey leading him, its draw to flesh tracking her even as she tries to weave behind the rose bushes. Spotting a tree, she glances over her shoulder one last time before hugging the narrow trunk and using all her strength to climb. What’s usually easy becomes a struggle as pain shoots up her legs when her feet try to find purchase on the bark. Her grip slips, and she falls hard onto her back.

Before she can lift to her elbows, a frothy mouth leaps in front of her face. She screams, writhing beneath the muzzled Grey, as Pierre hovers over her. "You could have earned God's grace, but instead, you killed her." Bitterness laces his voice. "Maman would want you dead, no matter what form the offering takes."

Blue tries scrambling backward, but a boot steps on her freshly cut wrist, twisting around and effectively pinning her. She chokes on a sob, fingers trembling in the dirt below her. The man reaches down to unscrew the muzzle, and in this moment she prays to whatever stupid god there might be, that Ari was right, that being eaten fully is better than the infection from a mere bite. 

She screws her eyes shut, bracing for the pain, but instead, her ears ring from a sharp sound. A weight crashes down on top of her, and when she opens her eyes, she wonders if she’s been drugged again. There, in her vision, is her father—his bare torso covered in blood and grime, his face contorted with rage as he shoves Pierre into the tree.

"Blue!"

It’s Twix. She shoves the Grey’s corpse off of Blue and scoops her into her arms. Blue freezes, unable to return the hug, her gaze fixed on her father as he rips a knife from his belt and stabs it into Pierre's hands, pinning them above his head to the bark. 

When Pierre tries to kick him, Ghost shoots both his knees. 

"Seigneur, s'il vous plaît, épargne-moi dans l'au-delà!"

The plea is choked off as Ghost rips the lower mandible free, the jagged bone tearing through flesh, leaving the tongue to flop uselessly, twitching and gasping for air. Twix's arms tighten around her, urging her to hide her eyes within her neck, but Blue keeps watching as Ghost snarls rabidly, finishing the kill by slamming the butt of his rifle into Pierre's skull, caving it in with a loud crack.

Only when he turns around, shoulders heaving, does she realize it’s truly him—and not a dream. He kneels on the ground, and Twix releases her into his chest, the solid feel of it absorbing the tremors that wrack through her limbs as she cries. Ghost cups the back of her hair, and despite the pained breath in his chest, he lifts her up, clutching her close. Her nose presses into his neck, struggling to breathe as she inhales the scent of him. 

"D-daddy," she croaks.

"It's me, it's me."

"I-I'm alive."

Something raw pushes through his teeth. "Fuck—you're okay, baby girl. I'm here. I've got you. I've got you." His fingers tighten against her scalp. "Hold tight to me. I won't let you go this time."

"Sal... My child." "You're a pain in the ass—" "The turtle dove sings for you." "The turtle dove sings for you!" "Come feed on her pure flesh, and in return, bless us with more food for the winter and healthy babies for your new people." "A cut to make them feast!" "There's a fucking fire!" "Sinful woman, look what you've done!" "Come out, little girl. You cannot hide from a demon. Not when your smell is so strong." "Lord, please spare me in the afterlife!"

[checkeredflagggs]

Money Bags

pairing: sugar relationship!charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: everyone is pretty sure charles has a sugar baby girlfriend — why else would she be posting so many photos of gifts?

a/n: the start of my week of romance! This was requested by a lovely anon and I hope you like it!

a/n2: I don’t know any actual shops or restaurants in Monaco so generic names it is! Please pretend it’s those exclusive places for the rich and famous. I also don’t know what type of Ferrari it is 🤷🏻‍♀️

Masterlist | Taglist

Bluesky

user1: …so it’s definitely charles and his girlfriend right?

↳user2: honestly they might as well as posted their faces

↳user1: Right? Like it’s so obvious

user3: you know you can just write their names? It’s definitely leclerc and his new girl

↳user4: it’s hilarious to me that they think it’s a secret?

↳user3: seriously! It’s been nonstop photos of gifts and trips and fancy dinners since they got together

user5: you mean charles and his gold digger?

↳user6: usually I wouldn’t promote that kind of language but in this case…

↳user7: I agree — she’s gonna drain him dry and move on to someone else to do the same

user8: don’t be coy deuxmoi — just say its the gold digger and charles leclerc…

↳user9: 😂😂

cl_gossip

liked by user, user, user and 982,349 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

cl_gossip: shocking absolutely no one — this Valentine’s Day is going to be a bank-braker. This massive bouquet was seen heading into Leclerc’s apartment building

view all comments

user10: 😂😂😂 god just keep roasting her

user11: honestly how long does she think it’ll last when she blows his money so fast??

user12: … 😱 …🙄🙄🙄

user13: what a slut honestly.

user14: my money is she moves on to max next…

↳user15: oh same

↳user16: ohh that would be an ideal threesome…

↳user15: seriously?

↳user16: am I wrong?

↳user14: …no I guess not

user17: tagging them though…

↳user18: right? I could never…

↳user17: I hesitate to even comment sometimes and they’re just out here tagging them on a post that’s dragging his girl…

↳cl_gossip: sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do

cl_gossip

liked by user, user, user and 992,184 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

cl_gossip: continuing with the apparent theme of the day — Charles and y/n were seen Bijouterie Jewelry Store, which is one of the most exclusive jewelry stores in the continent

view all comments

user20: wow…a new way to spend Charles’ money

↳user21: Jesus leave them alone

↳user20: we’re just calling it like we see it

↳user21: you’re just being a bitch

user22: oh to have a boyfriend like Charles to spoil you…

↳user23: right? Ignoring everything above — she’s got the jackpot. He’s so attractive, kind, seemingly caring, and rich?

↳user22: I’m so jealous

user24: man I’ve always wanted to go to Bijouterie Jewelry Store…

↳user25: same! I’ve seen pictures but I just know the aura of the place is unmatched

user26: leave the drivers and their personal lives alone challenge FAILED

↳user27: oh thank god I’m not the only one to think that

↳user26: they’re famous yes but we don’t need to know everything about their personal lives — and they have the right to privacy!

cl_gossip has posted a story, yourusername has posted 2 stories

[I don’t even know where to begin with this one…that is a mega yacht —not one of Charles’…][ today is only the best ♥️ | what a lovely lunch with charles_leclerc ♥️♥️♥️]

user28 replied GOLDDIGGER!

user29 replied god leave them alone

user30 replied what a bitchy move

user31 replied Charles please RUN

charles_leclerc replied Mon soleil, aujourd'hui a déjà été le plus beau jour de ma vie...My sunshine, today has already been the best day of my life...

↳yourusername Attendez, car ce n'est pas encore fini! Just you wait then because it's not over yet!

↳charles_leclerc mon soleil…my sunshine

↳yourusername 🥰🥰🥰

francisca.cgomes replied you guys are setting the bar absurdly high…

↳yourusername of course 🥰

↳yourusername but just say the word and we can run away baby

↳francisca.cgomes 🤯🤯🤯

pierregasly replied stop trying to steal my girlfriend

↳yourusername never

↳pierregasly 🙄😑

user32 replied jealousy activated oh my god…

user33 replied i want your life…

user34 replied please post some more photos of Charles queen!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly, and 2,923,91: others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: a new car and still a passenger princess 👑

view all comments

charles_leclerc: Je ne le ferais pas autrement, mon soleil. I wouldn’t have it any other way, my sunshine

↳yourusername: 😍😍😍

user36: RUN CHARLES

this comment has been deleted

user37: a whore and a gold digger…

this comment has been deleted

lilymhe: the prettiest passenger princess ever

↳yourusername: no that’s you!

↳alex_albon: why must you always flirt with our girlfriends?

↳pierregasly: i know

↳francisca.cgomes: 😘

↳yourusername: stop having such babes for girlfriends then? liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes

↳alex_albon: 🙄🙄

user38: he bought her a BRAND NEW FERRARI???

↳user39: I’ve never been so jealous of a bitch in my life

user40: ok but is anyone gonna say anything about the FUCKING HUGE ASS pile of gifts?

↳user41: I KNOW! Like damn…

↳yourusername: spoiling is the name of the game girlies…

↳user40: are you guys looking for a third? A maid? A dog? liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,128,183 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: a last minute trip with my baby…

view all comments

charles_leclerc: ♥️♥️♥️

↳yourusername: my love 🥰

user42: leo!

↳user43: always a good day with a leo leclerc picture liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

oscarpiastri: have a good trip dad!

↳charles_leclerc: thank you son!

↳yourusername: …yeah no. Thanks though osc! liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri

maxverstappen1: Air Max is still better

↳yourusername: stop being jealous!

↳maxverstappen1: 😑

↳charles_leclerc: mon soleil…

user49: god imagine being so entitled that you demand an expensive trip…

↳yourusername: lol

↳charles_leclerc: 😂

↳user50: ok but what does this mean…

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, and 2,723,183 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: Mon soleil, tu as mon cœur et mon âme depuis le jour où je t'ai vu pour la première fois. Je t'aime infiniment, avec ferveur, vraiment. Votre beauté, votre gentillesse, votre générosité sont exceptionnelles. Merci pour cette journée si merveilleuse aujourd'hui. Je n'aurais jamais cru qu'être gâté était si agréable.

My sunshine, you have my heart and soul and have since the day i first saw you. I love you endlessly, fervently, truly. Your beauty, your kindness, your generosity is outstanding. Thank you for such a wonderful day today. I never knew that being spoiled felt so good.

(Also stay mad and stay jealous but mon soleil is not the sugar baby in this relationship ☺️)

comments have been restricted on this post

yourusername: Charles my love…

yourusername: you cannot imagine how happy you make me everyday

yourusername: meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me

↳charles_leclerc: Mon soleil…🥹🥰♥️

yourusername: oh and to those judging us? Definitely stay mad and jealous

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @voidvannie @sturmatt @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478

[highvern]

Beggin' On My Knees

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, hint of angst, established relationship, biker! hoshi

warnings: pregnancy, impreg/breeding kink, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, praise kink, body worship, spitting, praise kink

Length: ~8k

Note: inspired by the Please, Please, Please MV. this was originally an idea for taehyung but alas my top freak took over again. something about biker/mechanic hoshi really is beautiful thank u @tomodachiii @haologram and @gyuswhore for keeping me sane

summary: After another run in with the law, you come to terms with the fact your friends might be right about your fiancé.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Even at your age, it’s somehow more embarrassing to buy pregnancy tests than condoms. You wouldn’t know since you’ve never bought condoms. That particular responsibility falls exclusively on your fiance after the few times in college when you snagged handfuls from the bucket inside the campus clinic.

You’ve bought a pregnancy test before. Not for yourself but for friends too embarrassed to walk into the pharmacy and publicly declare how active their sex lives were. Now you understand why they wanted someone else to do it. Why are there twenty different brands? Why do they require some high school employee to unlock the case so you can pick the one you want? Why are they so damn expensive? The anxiety you feel rivals the first time you bought weed sophomore year of college from some sleazy frat boy.

You’ve got the box resting on the bathroom counter, a timer on your phone, and the test just out of sight while you pace back and forth in the small space. The door is shut for no other reason than to isolate away from Soonyoung in the event he gets off work early.

You should call Soonyoung. He’d want to know, fight the urge to say something stupid like “I’ll try harder next time” when the tests come back negative and instead offer to pee on one in solidarity if only to lighten the mood.

You never understood when people say a woman just knows until right now because with each passing second the reality that those tests are going to be positive sink in. Despite the fact you and Soonyoung almost always use a condom and the times without them end with him coming anywhere not inside you. You just know it.

Each second ticks down like a bomb waiting to detonate.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your stomach twists.  Surprisingly, you don’t dread it as much as you would have a year ago. But a million things a baby entails rush over you. Cleaning out the spare room upstairs, doctors appointments, daycare, clothes, school. Do you even know how to actually take care of a kid? One that belongs to you, who you can’t give back to their person when they get fussy or hurt.

Soonyoung was born to be a dad. He never hid how badly he wanted a family of his own, a family with you. He’s good with kids too. You’ve seen him with his nieces and nephews, your friends’ kids. The middle schoolers in your neighborhood come to him with broken bikes and scooters to be fixed, knock on your front door to ask if he can help them get their ball down from some tree. Even if he doesn't know what he’s doing he’d be there by your side.

As the initial shock washes away, the knots in your chest slowly unfurl. You can do this. Even though you planned your life down to the last detail, Soonyoung has a way of sweeping you into his tide. Engagement, marriage, house, babies. In that order. You’ve already got the house before he asked you to marry him and your wedding is only a month away. 

After the worst of the panic settles into restless jitters, you leave the solitude of the bathroom. Soonyoung still isn’t home from work yet but it isn’t unusual. He’s been pulling more hours, shouldering more responsibilities since Mr. Lee, the owner, hinted at a promotion. Glancing at the clock, you guess he’ll walk through the door in two hours which gives you plenty of time to put together something to surprise him.

After a long shower, you burn time by cleaning up non-existent messes; you can’t sit still. The ‘surprise’ ends up being lackluster. Your weekly grocery shopping trip is tomorrow so the fridge is slim pickings for dinner and you make the executive decision to go out once Soonyoung is home. Some fancy restaurant neither of you can afford with tiny dishes designed to leave you hungry and stopping at the diner at the edge of town for a burger. 

While the noise from the TV hums in the background, you scroll through internet searches on what to do when expecting. Doctors appointments, blood tests, advice on budgeting. It’s information overload but you’re giddy even with the stress.. Then you see it. A screenshot from one of your friends. No words, just a photo. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The longer you stare the quicker the realization becomes a reality. Soonyoung, your Soonyoung, the Soonyoung you’ve been waiting to get home, the reason for three positive pregnancy tests still on the bathroom counter, stares back. Or his mugshot does. A proud stain on the town jail’s website for everyone to see.

Storming out of the house, you notice Jeonghan’s car is gone from his own driveway. Hopefully he’s given your fiance an earful at the station already. If not, you’ve got plenty to say.

Whatever giddy happiness possessed you earlier is long gone, rotten disgust taking its place. How stupid do you look waiting for him at home while he’s gone and gotten himself locked up?

That stupid bike.

It isn’t the first time. That was the initial appeal back when you were a doe eyed freshman, finally out from under your parents thumb with more freedom than you knew how to handle. Soonyoung was the stereotypical bad boy with a taste for fast cars, working in a garage to your good girl persona who set the curve in all her classes. A few drinks at a run down dive bar landed you on his bike in some back alley, a hand under your skirt while he whispered the nastiest things you’ve ever heard. Then you returned the favor back at his apartment, riding him with enough vigor the headboard slapping against the wall sent his neighbors into a fit.

Then came the routine of Soonyoung picking you up from your dorms late at night, staying out until sunrise doing who knows what. He showed you off at street races, called you his girl in front of friends, and would take you out to the lake after winning a race and make you feel like a winner too. 

It was fun. 

Until the calls he’d been out street racing again wore down your patience as your friends’ giddy curiosity turned to embarrassment and ‘I told you so’s. It wasn’t enough to break your heart, but it tore your ego to shreds. They called him a loser and you defended him time and time again because you loved him. Because he promised it wouldn’t happen again.

He promised the last time was the last time. The time before that was also the last time and the time before and so on. 

The parking lot of the police station is nearly empty this time of day; a few police cars and a handful of other vehicles. Otherwise, it sits deserted. 

Jeognhan is waiting for you at the front desk, pretending to type away at something on the computer but you know better. You’ve done this song and dance too many times. 

“What the fuck did he do this time?” 

He quirks an eyebrow, sliding a clipboard with the usual paperwork your way as he speaks. “What do you think?” 

You nearly rip through the paper from pressing the pen so hard as you sign. “You’re fucking kidding me.” 

“Ma’am, language,” a young officer warns.

You’ve never seen him before and the stern look on his face pisses you off even more. His eyes widen in what must be fear because he scrambles back to the filing cabinet at the back of the room without speaking. “I didn’t know you had a new bitch, Han.” 

Jeonghan takes his clipboard back before you can whack him with it. “Nope, that's still your fiancé. Chan, go get Soonyoung from the box.” 

“Tell him I’ve got a hammer in the car for his balls,” you call. 

“Please refrain from making threats inside the police station.”

Soonyoung has the sense to look afraid when he rounds the corner. He’s still in his work clothes, oil stained shirt and dirty coveralls, hair matted to his forehead. You can only imagine what he sees. Last time you picked up he’d still been drunk from a bar fight and you made him sleep on the porch with Jeonghan’s engine as an alarm clock. You’d been too tired to make threats, half asleep the entire time. This time, you feel on the verge of crying, throwing up, and exploding into a fiery rage.

You don’t wait for him while Jeonghan hands over the bag of Soonyoung’s belongings. Halfway to the car, he races to catch up without a word and goes as far as rushing ahead to open the driver's door for you. There’s a fraction of a second you contemplate speeding off before he can get into the passenger seat, let him walk home in the dark as punishment for being a dumbass. But you don’t. You want to yell at him for being a dumbass until your throat bleeds.

The car smells like motor oil and sweat with him so close in the passenger seat. You gag at the stench, rolling all the windows down to avoid vomiting. The last thing you want right now is to need him.

Under usual circumstances the silence hanging heavy in the air would be comfortable, familiar and warm with the golden hue of the sunset and the sound of cicadas not far off. The world holds its breath, but you don’t.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to find out you got arrested from someone sending me your mugshot?” you ask at the first red light. Soonyoung tries to answer but you cut him off. “No, you don’t. Because I’d never put you in that position.”

He grumbles out the window. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re better than me.”

“You think I’m pissed because I think I’m better than you? I’m pissed because you act like a fucking loser. I’m pissed because you’re a liar! You promised me you wouldn’t do this dumb shit anymore. YOU PROMISED ME. And I look like an idiot because I’m stupid enough to trust you.”

You wait for an excuse. Some honeyed platitude about how much he loves you and it being a mistake and how it’ll never happen again but Soonyoung offers nothing. 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks.

You scoff. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Clearly!” you shriek, the vein in your neck throbbing. “Do you know how it feels to have my friends send me your mugshot? I’m at home tearing my hair out and you’re street racing some kid for kicks.”

“He wasn’t a kid—” 

“I don’t give a fuck!” The edges of your vision scorch red, teeth gnashing. You’ve never been this angry with him. You’ve never been this angry, period. “Grow up!”

He’s lucky Jeonghan caught him and not one of the other officers hell bent on cleaning up the streets. He’s lucky you didn’t have to front bail money neither of you have, especially now. Instead of spending the weekend in jail, Soonyoung’s punishment is fixing whatever Jeonghan sends his way for the next month free of charge but it’s not enough, not even close.

The kill shot bubbles on the tip of your tongue but that last bit of self control keeps it under lock and key. This isn’t how you thought you’d tell him, nowhere close to the way the evening happened in your head before you saw that picture. You wanted to surprise him. Watch the way the news sunk in slowly then all at once. You remember the test you left on the kitchen counter for him to find when he got home before everything went to shit. The ember of rage flairs back to life.

“You wanna race so bad, go fetch!” You don’t think as you rip the keys to that cursed bike from his hands and chuck them out the window into the grassy median, gone in a flash. It’s only a temporary solution but it feels good. It’s the next best thing to taking a bat to his bike until there’s nothing salvageable.

Soonyoung sputters. “Are you crazy?” 

Maybe. You’re absolutely toeing the line of unhinged. The car skids to a stop, tires burning against the asphalt. Thankfully the road is clear of any traffic.

“Get out,” you demand.

“What?”

“Get out. Get out, get out, get out!” You repeat the words over and over until he does what you tell him to. You feel the suffocating tightness in your chest signaling tears are seconds away. 

“Baby, let's talk about this,” Soonyoung begs. He tries to reach through the window, he knows your weak spots too well. You snatch your hand away before he can take advantage.

“You can have this back!” You launch the diamond band right at his chest before taking off.

You get back home on autopilot. There are red lights and stop signs and other traffic laws you can’t remember if you followed but you’re in the driveway and barreling up the porch with shaky breaths. Guilt doesn’t cross your mind for a second. Soonyoung didn’t feel guilty for racing like a dumbass until he got caught, so why should you feel guilty for letting him deal with the consequences? 

The urge to do something mean, not just mean but hurtful with the intent of seeing Soonyoung sick to his stomach, rears its head. If that’s what you wanted then mission accomplished. He saved for a year to buy that ring and you threw it in his face like it was nothing but cheap plastic. The ire from earlier rushes out of you like a deflating balloon. Your fingers itch for a cigarette but unlike your now ex fiance, you have to cut out all your vices. There’s no relief in pacing back and forth. There won’t be any solace inside the house either. You’re so tired. All the highs and lows of the day have drained you of everything. You don’t want to be mad or sad or anything anymore. You just want to go to bed and sleep off the entire day. 

You want to leave but you don’t. You want to yell some more but Soonyoung will be at least another hour. There’s nothing to anxiously clean while waiting so you water the crispy plants on the porch while you wait.

Jeonghan’s cruiser pulls into his driveway across the street thirty minutes later. Still no sign of Soonyoung, not a missed call or text. You think to worry but he gets out of Jeonghan’s passenger seat and trudges your way.

He looks angry and tired. But your swollen eyes and splotchy face melts the furrow in his brows.

“I’m—”

You silence him with a blast from the water hose. Soonyoung takes his punishment like a man, standing completely still while you douse him from head to toe. 

“I deserve that. Please, just listen to me—” He’s silent with another stream aimed at his chest. You feel some validation seeing him embody the way you feel: pathetic. 

“Will you put the hose down so we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” you huff, dropping the hose for him to clean up.

“Then I’ll talk and you listen.”

“No.” You head towards the door with no intention of letting Soonyoung inside. “Go sleep at Jeonghan’s, I don’t wanna be around you right now.”

“He already told me no.”

Jeonghan would take mercy on Soonyoung in this state; soaked to the bone with your engagement ring in his pocket.

You turn to face him. “I want you to get rid of your bike.”

Soonyoung stays at the foot of the stairs leading up the porch. He knows how you feel and he has the sense to look ashamed.

“You want me to sell Tammy?” he asks.

“I want Tammy to fall off a cliff into the abyss but that’s obviously not going to happen,” you seethe, blinking away more frustrated tears.

“I have a lot of good memories with Tammy.”

“What? The first time you got arrested? Or the time you fell off and broke your arm? Oh, I know! When you ended up in a ditch?”

“The time I asked you to be my girlfriend. And the time I won enough money to help put a down payment on the house. When—“

“It’s me or her.”

Does it feel juvenile giving your fiance an ultimatum between you and a godforsaken bike? Absolutely. But you’ve got a kid to think about now and the thought of Soonyoung missing their life because he’s too busy chasing the rush makes you sick.

“It’s you.” Soonyoung says it with finality but you don’t believe him.

“Then prove it.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Sell it. First thing tomorrow morning.”

He laughs bitterly. “I’m not selling my bike.”

“Then I’ll be sure to tell your kid their dad is a fucking loser.” 

He blinks like the words don’t fully set in but your back is already to him by the time they do. Locked inside the house, you lean back against the door. You don’t want him to hear the crack of breath in your throat breaking into hot, wet tears. 

“What do you mean my kid?” Soonyoung’s panicked voice comes through the door. “YN! Open the door!”

“Go away.”

His whispered curses slip through the door while he scrambles for the spare key hidden in the potted plant by the door. If you really wanted him locked out, you would’ve remembered to move it before he got home. Part of you does want him stuck as far away as possible. You don’t want to face him because you know he’ll kiss your tears away and that’s all you want right now. You want him to hold you, promise you everything will be okay.

The lock of the bedroom door clicks into place right as Soonyoung gets the front door open. You hear him downstairs, looking for where you’re hidden. You can plot his course in your head: straight through the living into the kitchen where one of the positive tests waits to greet him on the counter, then he comes racing up the stairs and outside the door.

He twists the doorknob with no success. “YN.”

“Go away,” you sniffle into the pillow. His pillow. You’re on his side of the bed, in one of his old shirts because even if you wish you hated him.  

A dull thud against the door and a sigh signals his departure. You hear him shuffling back downstairs, but the sound of the front door never comes. The fatigue of the day takes over swiftly. Surrounded by the comforting smell of Soonyoung, you fall asleep until the smell of food wafts up through the vents. Not burnt but if Soonyoung is in the kitchen then it’s only a matter of time.

You creep down the stairs, careful to stay quiet so you can sneak back up without getting caught. Soonyoung’s body blocks whatever he’s organizing on the counter but you tell it’s a bribe from the sight of take out bags piled in the trash.

“What’s that?”

“Dinner. Do you want some?”

He’s got an entire pizza with garlic knots and cinnamon twists laid out like a feast. You watch him pretend to be nonchalant but he’s glued to your every move as you approach the counter and shove an entire garlic knot into your mouth, chewing with enough force to warn you haven’t forgiven him yet even though you're close to it. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Then we won’t talk,” he sighs into the base of your skull, fingers edging beneath your shirt for the comforting warmth of skin on skin. 

“Don’t,” you say, but lean back into the warmth of his body despite yourself.

“I’m sorry.”

Sure he is. You know he means it. Soonyoung is always sorry but it doesn’t stop him from being a dumbass. But he’s your dumbass no matter how many fights you have.

He lets you eat, content to hide his face in your shoulder and his fingers warm against the waistband of your sweatpants. You hate crying and you hate crying in front of him – because of him – even more. The heavy silence of the kitchen and the love of your life clinging onto you like his life depends on it brings a fresh prick of tears. Once you start, you can’t stop. The tears keep coming as Soonyong maneuvers your face into his chest. His new, clean shirt turns into your tissue. You fall into him without hesitation.

“Are you really…” he asks quietly, dropping kiss after kiss against your hair while you wring out like a sponge. 

“Do you think I’d lie to make you feel bad?”

“No. I just—fuck. You’re pregnant.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“How do you feel?”

You blow your nose into his neck. “Like I wanna punch my kid’s dad in the nuts.”

“He probably deserves that.”

“He definitely does.”

“And he deserves to sleep outside.”

“Yep,” you nod.

“But you still love him?”

“Of course I do, you big idiot,” you sigh, leaning back to look at him. Mistake. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” His brow presses to yours, face rounded out, soft cheeks that make you want to scream. Brown eyes shine beneath his lashes. Soonyoung knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t but things would be a lot easier if you did.

Soonyoung takes the silence as an admission, and when you don’t object he falls to his knees, pulls your shirt out of the way and presses his face into your stomach. “We should name it Donatello.”

“No.”

“Leonardo.”

“No,” you giggle despite yourself.

“Raphael.”

“You are not naming our baby after a Ninja Turtle.”

“Mojo Jojo Jojo.”

“No.”

“Thanos.”

“Stop!”

“You’re laughing?” Soonyoung gasps, rushing to his feet to pin your squirmy body between him and the counter’s edge. “I’m trying to have a very serious conversation and you’re laughing?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you love me.”

You nod, hiding back into his chest where it’s safe. “Yeah, I love you.”

The silence marinates between you. 

“I’ll sell the bike, promise.”

“You’re not the best at keeping promises.”

“This time is different.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking their dad doesn’t worship the ground their mom walks on. Because I know she’s way too good for me and I’m lucky to have her.”

“I’m not too good for you, I hate when you say that.”

“You called me a loser.”

“I said you acted like a loser and I won’t take that back.” 

He looks away. “That’s fair.”

The icy wall of hurt freezes back up but you’re too tired to drag on the fight any longer. “When I found out my reaction wasn’t ’oh he’s being stupid.’ It was ‘how would I tell our kid their dad missed their birthday because he got himself locked up.’ That’s all I could think about. Explaining to our kid over and over why you’re never there.”

The words rest like a wet blanket over his flame of excitement. He doesn’t want to be that kind of dad; the one who misses their child’s life for something as stupid as street racing. Who leaves you to pick up a broken heart time and time again, two broken hearts.

You’re at arms length, Soonyoung examining you like a puzzle he can’t figure out but wants to try anyway. You hate when he looks at you like that. Like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen and he can’t quite believe you’re real. “You’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Shut up.” You hide the blush staining across your cheeks with another slice of pizza. 

“You are.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I need you to be a good dad. And if you can’t then I’m not afraid to do it by myself.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Can I talk to it?”

“If you want to.” You don’t tell him that the thing growing in your womb curiously of him is the size of a pea and doesn’t have a face, let alone ears. You want to hear what his first words as a dad are.

He rucks your shirt up higher until it’s bunched beneath your breast, stomach on full display for him to bury his face into. 

“Hi. I’m your dad,” he starts timidly. You bite back a smile at his earnestness. “I don’t usually make your mom this angry. Usually, she’s pretty happy with me.” His lips brush your stomach with each word, tickling them into your skin. “I hope you take after her. She’s smart, and she’s pretty. God, she’s so pretty. I remember the first time I saw your mom and I knew I wanted to marry her.”

You snort. “You did not.”

“Yes, I did,” he corrects. “We were at this bar. You’re not allowed to go there. Ever. Maybe when you’re thirty or I’m dead. But I remember seeing her when she walked in and I thought ‘that is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and if she talks to me, I’ll throw up.’ I still feel like that sometimes. Even when she’s mad at me. And then when I got the courage to talk to her, I didn’t throw up because your old man is cool.”

Your heart swells too big for your chest. The night you met him wasn’t the stuff of fairytales. You saw him across the bar, all blonde hair and ruby cheeks as he screamed with his friends. He did throw up the first time you talked to him. After an hour of riding him until it hurt, you melted boneless in his lap and he snuck away to the bathroom to toss the used condom. You faked asleep as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl before crawling back to bed and begging for cuddles. Pure romance.

“So cool,” you tease.

Soonyoung laces your fingers together, nipping at your fingertips in protest. “Your mom is mean to me but it’s okay because I love her. You’ll love her too. I just hope you’ll love me.”

You fight the urge to cry, only a single tear streaking down your cheek before stopping. “They’ll love you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so.”

“How?”

“Because I love you and I’m very smart. Remember?”

“I did say that, didn't I?”

You hum in agreement, pulling him up your body to nudge his nose along yours. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You let him shower you in gentle touches, his hands smoothing up your sides. Soonyoung traps you between his body and the counter, his lips sweeping over your chin, your jaw, your covered chest. That’s when you feel it. “What are you doing?”

“Apologizing.”

“Feels a lot like your penis to me.”

“That’s a part of the apology,” he whispers, the weight of his cocky heavy against your thigh, harder with each controlled grind. “Can’t believe I knocked you up and I never even came inside of you.”

“I can. You talk about kids so much I bet you manifested this.”

“You want it though, right?”

“Yeah.”

You’re lifted onto the countertop, legs spread around his hips. He’s got one hand wedge between your ass and panties to keep you close. “Do you think I’ll be a good dad?”

Not the conversation you thought would happen while you’re tugging his shirt off and working at the tie in his pajamas pants but you humor him.

“I think you’ll be a great dad.” You kiss him gently. His lips, his nose, his cheeks that round in your favorite smile. “If you stop getting arrested. How are you gonna ground Michaelangelo if you keep getting in trouble too?”

“She’s gonna be too smart for that. Just like her mom.”

“Oh, it’s a she now?”

“I’ve got a feeling.” He nips at your throat, a sweet flick of his tongue to soothe the sting. “Back to me coming inside you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Gonna take it all for me?”

Your chin tips back to provide more skin for Soonyoung to mark up. “Want it.”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he heaves. You’re trapped between a hand against the crotch of your panties and one pawing at your ass like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“Take your pants off.”

An amused breath warms your throat. “Someone’s bossy”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you to take your pants off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Shirt gone, sweats pooled around his ankles, Soonyoung stands in nothing but a pair of tenting briefs and the thin chain you gifted him a week after he placed that band on your ring finger.

“Wow, who knew you'd be such a DILF.”

His cheeks tinged pink from the complement. “I’ve been a dad for five minutes and you’re already trying to hit on me.”

“We’re engaged, doofus.”

“Speaking of.” He snatches his pants off the floor, digging through the pockets until a familiar ring appears. “Don’t take this off again.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He catches your chin between his fingers, pining you in his gaze. “I don’t care how angry you are with me. When I asked you to marry me, I meant forever.”

You can count on one hand the number of times he’s used that tone of voice with you. Soonyoung doesn't get angry often; at least, not with you. The last time he talked to you like this was when you wandered on the wrong side of town late at night, alone and drunk without a way home. You were pissed about a grade and wanted to do something reckless like every other kid at your university got to. Luckily, Soonyoung found you before trouble could. He used the same tone to chastise you for an hour about how stupid you’d been. 

But he isn’t just mad at your antics. He’s scared too. You look at him — really look at him for the first time since this morning when you kissed him goodbye before work. Red eyes, lip bruised, not from kisses but the way he chews it when he’s anxious.

“I’m sorry.” You pull him back, arms wrapped so tightly around his torso he probably can’t breathe and you both like the certainty of it. The tension in his shoulders softens like candle wax but he doesn’t let go. 

There’s still the matter of damp underwear and his boner. You want him, the gnawing aching way you always want him. Between your legs, stroking your sensitive spots to life over and over again until you beg for mercy he’s too eager to deny.

You nose against his cheek, adoring kiss after kiss against his skin until mouths meet. Soonyoung slips his tongue between the seam of your lips. You feel it the way down to your toes. On instinct, your hand trickles down his front, wedged tight between your bodies to paw at the fabric. A few dry jerks is all it takes for him to unravel.

“Wait,” Soonyoung gasps, hips rutting into the tight squeeze.

He keens with another tug, neck flushing a pretty shade of pink. The linoleum bites into your knees before you mouth over his underwear for a taste of what's to come. You suck the head through his underwear before leaning back to tease him with a kiss.

“Bedroom.”

“Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d refuse a kitchen blowjob,” you snicker.

Soonyoung doesn’t laugh. He pulls you back up into a bruising kiss, biting at your lip until you’re sure it’s bruised. His hand gropes down your ass, fingers tight to your entrance from behind. Whatever he wants like this you’ll agree to.

“Want you on my mouth.”

You’d kneel over his face right here on the kitchen floor if he wanted. But knowing your fiance, his sights are glued to whatever fantasies boil beneath that blond hair of his. 

You race up the stairs, Soonyoung hands heavy on your sides. His thumbs press into the bare curve of your hips. Your clothes fall until just your underwear remains. You want to turn around and mount him on the steps but the second floor landing is close enough you don’t get a chance. 

Soonyoung flicks all the bedroom lights on, eager to see every part of you as you crawl up the bed on all fours in nothing but your underwear. A few years ago you wouldn’t dream of sex with a lamp on let alone the overhead light but years of his utter devotion to your body and wanting to watch you get off like it’s his very own miracle gave you confidence. He looks ready to jump out of his own skin at the doorway. You glance over back and arch your spine a little more, ass higher in the air for his viewing. You might just finger yourself like this to see him suffer. You’ve done it before.

You stretch out, naked chest on display. “Are you coming?”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” Unconsciously, he palms his cock and approaches the side of the bed, pulling you into a kiss with a heavy lick of his tongue.

It doesn’t take much to drag him on top of you, dick hot to your thigh, perfect to rut against. There’s too much Soonyoung to think of anything else. His hands pinning you in place, his breath fanning across your chest as he suckles across the slope of your breast, thighs surging between yours in a dry hump you can’t help but beg for more of. His hips stutter when you do.

He follows the same playbook you did earlier; fingers trailing to the wet patch of your wants, mouth following closely. You’re in for a treat when he’s on his knees like this. He wants to tease you the way you did him but Soonyoung isn’t committed to denying you anything, he wants to rake you over hot coals by giving too much. 

Your hands eagerly hook beneath your knees, legs spread wide before him like a feast..

“Taste so good,” he rasps with a soft suck at your clit. “You’re so hot.”

Even with the barrier of your underwear each lick lights you on fire. Soonyoung moans a lewd melody, lost in his own paradise. Your thighs twitch with each gentle prod at your entrance, folded away by his shoulders so he can touch as much as he wants.

The promise from earlier lights up your brain. You twist a tight grip in his hair, pulling hard enough to detach him from your body. Lips wet, eyes blown, Soonyoung tries to dive back down until another twist of your nails makes him wince.

“Call Jeonghan.”

His mouth may be gone but his fingers circle your clit in the way that makes you whine. “What?”

“Call. Him,” you command. 

You snatch your phone from the end table, forcing it into Soonyoung’s grasp. He still doesn’t understand what you’ve asked.

“Sell him the bike right now.”

“Now?” He looks down at your pussy still on display, underwear soaked in spit and arousal.

You nod. Soonyoung knows better than to argue. He’s back in your good graces but only just, the promise of shipping that infernal bike off to someone else keeping him afloat. 

Your body throbs for release, for his mouth to go back to work instead of whispering into the phone when Jeonghan answers. 

“Two grand? Bullshit! There's at least…” he trails off.

You’re not going to stop just because he’s busy. You grab your breasts, taunt nipples visible between your fingers. Clad in a pair of sticky panties and nothing else, you’ve reduced him into a stuttering mess. Any other night he’d already be smothering himself in the wetness. You can see the urge in his gaze as he swallows loudly.

“Four,” Soonyoung counters. His face twists between wanting to argue with the neighbor, brows furrowed, lips in a heavy pout, and watch in awe as you suck on your own fingers before pinching at your chest again.

You’ve got him distracted with a hand between your legs, pushing your underwear out of the way to flash him exactly what he’s earning. Flushed and wet, the smell of sex hangs in the air.

“Thirty-five,” his voice cracks as you spread your legs wider, pulling his hand right where it belongs.

Soonyoung bats your hands away, fingers twisting through your heat. A gentle prod at your entrance like he hasn’t mastered your pussy enough to make you stupid and strung out with a few touches. There’s no way Jeonghan can’t hear every pleased sigh, the wet noise echoing from your pussy, the annoyance in Soonyoung’s voice as they barter back and forth. 

Soonyoung leans over and spits where his fingers disappear, making you jolt with the force as he does it again. You nearly ask him to spit in your mouth just to see his eyes bulge but the opportunity disappears with the sound of Jeonghan’s cackle through the line.

“Fine, three. I’ll give you the keys tomorrow.” He ends the call, forces your hand out of the way, and eagerly makes up for the minutes lost.

Both of your hands find the soft strands of his hair to hold him in place. Your feet plant on the bed beside his wide shoulders, allowing you to hump his face pathetically only to be welcomed with a grunt. The rip of fabric registers right before what was once your underwear is left stretched across the middle of your thigh. 

“S-shit, don’t stop.”

His fingers spread for his tongue to lick between. You punish him for such a dirty move with a harsh pull of his hair that he loves more than anything. Soonyoung does what he does best: groveling for your forgiveness. You’ll give it to him like always. But you both want him to work for it; it’s better when he does. 

He spreads your legs wider, gives a pleased grunt when you hold him in place and grind into his mouth. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant; vision blurry, body on fire.

Soonyoung moans into the sloppy mess of your pussy, sucking your clit between his lips, wedging another finger between the two already ruining you. 

“Oh god—there.”

Your thighs crush his head but he forces them up and open, pinned in place. The tender glow of the end escalates into a scalding burn as it rips through every muscle. You clench so tight around his fingers he can’t move them more than a tight curl. When you cry at the overstimulation he finally rests.

“Did you just—”

Pins and needles ripple through your muscles and all you can do is nod. Once the initial shock fades, there’s a smug twitch of his lips. He catches your foot and pins it before you can kick him.

“Shut up.”

“Have I told you how much I think about you being pregnant?” he asks, watching your every move.

You shake your head. His fingers keep working in gentle strokes, the wet noises quieter than before but loud in your ears. 

“It’s a lot,” he grunts. “Fuck, you’re gonna be so sexy.”

“I’m not already?” you half laugh, half gasp. The spark of arousal already demands more so you rock your hips down despite the sensitivity.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“But I’m not sexy?”

“Don’t pick an argument with me right now, please,” Soonyoung begs. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m thinking about coming in you until you can’t take anymore.”

“Then I’ll be sexy?” you goad.

“You’ve always been sexy.” He punctuates the compliment with a kiss to your left hip bone. “Beautiful.” Another on your right. “Gorgeous.” One on the plush of your thigh. “I love you.”

He folds you in half, knees to chest like you possess the flexibility to stay there, ankles cuffed in his hand, lips hot on the back of your thigh. 

“We should fuck on the bike one more time,” you tease. 

“You want me to defile the mother of my child on a motorcycle?”

You moan at his words. You want him to come wherever he wants, as many times as he can. Until he can’t anymore. To feel nasty and used however he sees fit. You want him on top of you, behind you, bending you over every surface he can until you’re shaking.

“You’re about to defile me right here. W-what’s the difference?”

Soonyoung curls the fingers inside you tight, eyes glued to the way you heave before answering. He fucks into that spot that makes you his puppet and all you want is to ruin him the same way he ruins you with the slightest touch. “You said I should stop doing things that’ll get me arrested.”

You choke on another tease as he sucks on your clit, tongue coaxing pathetic sighs right out of your lungs. He could do this all night. He’d be happy to. Soonyoung grips you tighter as you squirm away. It’s too much. He knows it and that’s why he loves it so much, knowing he can make you cum hard enough to scream.

“Are the cameras still broken at the garage?”

“Yeah,” he grunts, already knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Then you can defile me at your place of business, over the bike. Just like old times.”

“No condoms.”

“How else are you gonna stuff me full of cum?”

Soonyoung groans, pushing your legs wider as his hips rut into the mattress. “Wanna come inside you.”

“Then get up here and do it.”

You’re soaked between the legs, sensitive and swollen. Soonyoung settles into the warm cradle of your thighs easily, pressing his cock into the wet mess of spit and arousal. Your body acts of instinct, hips tilting until he slips between your walls.

“Oh my god.” He laps at the swell of your breast. “‘S okay?”

“Yeah, they don’t hurt yet.”

The sharp edge of his teeth leaves lines across your skin while he sucks at your chest until your spine breaks in half. His fingers keep firm pressure against your clit. Sloppy but enough to keep you pulled taunt. You’ll come a second time if he keeps it up.

“Oh my god,” you echo. 

Soonyoung likes to fuck hard. Hard enough you feel like all your seams are splitting, just shy of shattering your limit. Now’s no different but there's a new edge of caution. Even with his hips flat, inside you until nothing is left to give, he tangles your fingers together and pins them over head in the pillows.

You push your body against his, needy and pliant. Blind want acting as a guide, your ankles lock around his waist. It feels so much better than all the other times he’s fucked you like this; knowing the risk of him coming inside no longer counts and he can do it as many times as you ask. 

The slap of your skin against his fills the room, grunts and pathetic whines passing between mouths with narrowed vision. Nails biting into his shoulders, you flutter tight, trying to pull Soonyoung deeper even if he’s snug to the hilt. Stretched full beyond belief.

“More,” you beg. Frantic. Needy. All those feelings Soonyoung can incite with the barest of touches and a look.

He rises back on his hands, lighting up with each pathetic whimper of his name. “More what?”

If you had the brain power you’d knock the stupid smirk off his face. “Fuck me.”

“I am,” Soonyoung taunts.

“Breed me.”

“Already h-have.” Soonyoung looks like he wants to laugh but he sinks as much weight as he can into his hips, rhythm clumsy but it’s so good you don’t care. “Fuck, such a good girl. Aren’t you?”

You clench around him. He isn’t the most inspired with dirty talk but he knows your buttons, loves to press on your praise kink when you least expect it. 

“Say it.”

“I-I’m,” you stutter from his fingers finding your raw clit. “I’m your good girl.”

“My pretty little wife,” Soonyoung gasps. “Perfect.”

Every bit of praise adds a drop in the bucket, chest tightening until it explodes without permission; shredding through your veins. Your teeth sink into his shoulder. Hard enough to bruise as you cry, “Soonyoung.”

He doesn’t stop for your orgasm, not for a second. You asked him to breed you and it’s his sole purpose until you’re both satisfied. “G-gonna come.”

“Want it, want you to come in me,” you sob.

Soonyoung grabs for your hair, a gentle tug with enough force your eyes open to find his.

“Want it?” he pants, tilting your hips to fuck deeper. You nod with limited room thanks to his grip. “Then take it.”

The sticky heat you’re accustomed to on your skin stains your insides for the first time. There’s no way you can go back. Not after knowing how right it feels to have him fill you. You shiver beneath his weight, nerves twitching from the idea of him doing it again. Immediately.

“Love you, love you, love you…” Soonyoung chants into your skin, lips slipping over your throat with each breathless gasp.

You roll down into the nasty feel of cum and cock, the minor relief not nearly enough. Not with the idea of sucking the combined taste off him rearing its head. But Soonyoung collapses with a point flex of his thighs to stop your motions.

“Holy fuck,” he shudders. “If you let me do that sooner, we’d have ten kids by now.”

You’re flustered at the idea. “Do you think my vagina is a baby rocket launcher?”

“It’s definitely something.”

“How romantic,” you snort. “Give it a few months and I’ll be so hormonal you won’t touch me with a ten foot pole.”

“Is that what you think?” he hums, face still hidden in your neck like he’s too exhausted to move except to lap at the dip in your throat. A subtle grind reminds you of his cock still wedge in your guts, stiff like he didn’t come hard enough to see stars.

It’s hard to think that after so many years together, this is the biggest love rush you’ve ever experienced. The urge to keep him wrapped in your arms for as long as possible brings tears to your eyes. 

Soonyoung pops over your face after the first sniffle, terrified. “Are you crying?”

“No.” You swipe at the tears. “Shut up.”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, failing to hide his amusement.  

“I’m carrying your child, sorry my hormones are all over the place.” You bat his hand away unsuccessfully, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm.  “We’re ready for this?”

“I mean, I was planning to knock you up on our honeymoon anyway,” he shrugs, lips soft on your hairline. “Do you have any more of those tests?”

“Why?”

“I wanna see what’d happen if I pee on one.”

“Nothing.” You push him off, rolling onto hands and knees with your ass in the air, face buried in the pillows. “Now, fuck me again.”

Soonyoung pushes the head of his cock through the mess of cum leaking out before sinking back inside with a grunt. “Yes, ma’am.”

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[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: V | jjk

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

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

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

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 9,619

—  warnings: sex dream, strong language, mention of sex, a lot of nervousness, mention of death, mention of murder, crying, mention of grief, heartbreak, mention of abortion, swearing, nipple play, nipple sucking, kind of fingering (not sure if it’s the correct word), and some very big tension

—  author’s note: soo this was supposed to be posted tomorrow, but in the end, I have to post it today 🤗 This chapter is honestly quite intense in a lot of levels, but it unveils a lot about oc’s past, and we will finally understand a lot more about what happened to her parents 🫠 hope you’ll enjoy this chapter 💞

Chapter V: unveiling the past

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

You and Jungkook are abruptly pulled out of your sleep, both affected by the very intense and heated dream you inexplicably shared. The dream involved a lot of kissing, his mouth on your nipples, his tongue lapping at your juices, your tongue swirling along his hard shaft, and his manhood inside your wetted core. It was an intense dream that you both enjoyed way too much.

After the full moon, three days ago, you haven’t really seen or talked to each other. There have been some messages here and there, mostly messages where he checks up on you. Things aren’t awkward between you, you’d actually say the opposite. However, you’re actually convinced that next time you’ll see him you won’t be able to resist him.

“Soooo,” Lexi says once you’re in the kitchen.

This night, you’ve slept at Felix’s house with Lexi to spend a little bit of time together. This whole pregnancy and werewolf journey has pushed you a bit far from them, and you don’t want that. They are a big part of you, they’ve been by your side since the beginning. So Lexi literally decided the other day that instead of having dinner all together, it’d be better if you and she slept here. Like old good times.

“You have to tell me how the little monster’s father is,” she almost demands.

“I don’t have any picture,” you instantly answer while putting coffee in a mug.

“I’m not asking for a picture,” she says. “I want you to describe the man for me.”

You roll your eyes, she’s unbelievable. She’s always so nosy, and since she has learned about the ‘I keep the baby and the father comes along’ story, she’s been dead serious to know everything about Jungkook. However, you don’t really know how to explain to her that 1) you’re a werewolf, and 2) he’s a werewolf king.

“He’s just a man,” you answer.

“You’re boring, yn,” she says before taking a sip of coffee.

“Hi girls,” Felix enters the room with the brightest smile on his face.

He leaves a kiss on top of Lexi’s head before pressing one on your cheek. When his lips meet your cheek, you close your eyes to savor this sweet moment with your father. Being on your own is all good and funny, but you always miss his sweet good morning kisses.

“Hi dad,” Lexi says. “Can you tell yn to provide us with more description than ‘man’ for her baby daddy?”

“Well, at least we know he’s a man,” he teasingly says to his daughter.

“Dad,” she moans. “You’re not helping.”

As she’s complaining to her father, you grab a plate that you place on the table with your coffee before sitting down in front of her. You take a toast, put butter on, and eat it. This is delicious. Simple but delicious.

“Okay,” you surrender. “I’ll tell you.”

“Finally!” she exclaims. “It was about damn time!”

You roll your eyes once more. This lady has an incredible personality, but you adore her. She’s literally your sunshine, you couldn’t live without her.

“It’s a tall Korean man with black short hair,” you start saying. “He has dark brown eyes and has a very athletic body.”

“So you’ve gotten to see his body closely,” she plays with her eyebrows while insinuating something sexy.

“No, I didn’t,” you instantly lie.

She furrows her brows, she knows you’re lying. It’s written all over your face.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she snaps back. “Did you already have sex with him?”

Felix chokes on his coffee, Lexi and yourself now looking at him.

“Don’t talk about that around me,” he defends himself.

“Come one, Dad,” she says. “We’re not ten anymore, we’re thirty, and your daughter is pregnant. We know babies don’t fall from the sky.”

Lexi is the type of girl to be straightforward, especially with you and Felix. In this case, she’s not wrong, but it still feels weird to be talking about sex around him. He’s like a father to you, and it’s just awkward. 

“Yeah, but still, I don’t want to know about what you do with guys,” he says.

“In this case,” you say. “We didn’t do anything like that,” you try to find an excuse without mentioning the wolf transformation. “He just spilled wine on his shirt and removed it in front of me.”

Lexi doesn’t buy it, but she pretends she does. She’s very much convinced you had sex with him, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Mmm,” she says. “Is he hot at least?” she asks. “We need to know if yn junior is going to have good genetics from both parents.”

There’s a sudden heat growing under your cheeks. You don’t want to say that he’s obviously so fucking hot and that you’ve been desiring to do wild things with him. But you’re not going to say that.

“He’s not bad,” you answer. “But my kid doesn’t need him to be good-looking, they just need me.”

Now, she’s the one rolling her eyes. It’s hard to not live with her anymore because you love your little bickerings. She’ll forever be the sister the universe gave you, and despite the tragedy of losing your parents, having her and Felix is the biggest blessing of your life.

“With you as their mother, I’m mostly concerned about their ego, not their beauty.”

“You’re just jealous,” you say before taking another bite of your toast.

Before any of you can add something, your phone rings, your eyes looking down at the screen. It’s a message from Jungkook. A smile appears on your face.      

 “It’s your baby daddy, I guess,” her words make you look up at her.

“Maybe,” you say.

You take your phone to see what he wants.

From Jungkook: Hi yn, how are you today? 😊

His message warms your heart. He’s been asking you every morning how you feel, and you can’t help but find this sweet. You know it’s because you’re carrying his child, but it’s still nice of him to do it.

To Jungkook: Hey Jungkook, all good here, and you? 😊  

His answer comes quite rapidly, Lexi looking at you very intrigued.

From Jungkook: I’m good too 😊 are you still up to meet the shadow’s alpha?

Now your heart starts hammering fast in your chest, and you take a deep breath. Meeting people who can help you unveil your parents’ past is exciting yet stressful. You wish nothing more than to meet this alpha, but you’re also scared of what you’ll find out.

“Are you okay?” Felix asks.

Your eyes look up to meet his. Although you absolutely adore him, you don’t want to tell him about this yet. You don’t even know how to tell him that you’re a werewolf. One thing you’re sure of, you want to know a bit more about your parents’ story before telling him anything. You’ll tell him one day, but not just yet.

“Yeah,” you say.   

To Jungkook: yep still good

Then, you agree with him to meet tomorrow at 4 pm. As you don’t want to stress too much over it, you join Lexi and Felix’s conversation.  

Your heart is beating extremely fast, your foot taping nervously on the floor, and your eyes gazing at the city passing before you. People are walking on the busy streets, many cars are moving around you while Jungkook is driving to the house of Mister Song Sungmin.

None of you speaks, his eyes glancing at you from time to time. He’s not sure if he should say something; he’s scared to say something he shouldn’t or that will hurt you. This is such an important moment for you. You’re about to meet someone that might have known your parents, and their true past.

“You okay?” he simply asks after a while.

“Yes,” your eyes leave the city to look at the man driving.

He’s back to wearing a suit which makes him look powerful, as always. You guess that he’s wearing a suit to reinforce his stature as king, projecting authority for the meeting you’re about to have with an Alpha.

This time around, it’s a grey suit with a black shirt underneath it. He’s extremely hot. But your mind doesn’t really dwell on it for long. All you truly think about is this meeting. It’s what truly matters right now.

A couple of minutes later, you arrive in front of a very pretty house. It seems to be the cozy type.

“Before going inside, there are a few things to know,” Jungkook explains. “Song Sungmin is one of the most powerful Alphas of your pack. He’s moved here after meeting his wife, Song Eunji who happens to be the daughter of a Blood. He’s also the uncle of my best friend, Taehyung.”

You nod before taking Jungkook’s hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks,” you whisper.

He offers you a small smile, a cute little dimple appearing on his face. Every time he smiles at you, you want to touch it.  

“I’d do anything to help you.”

And you’re grateful for everything he has done so far. No matter how things evolve between you, you’ll carry him closely in your heart. For sure, your baby is lucky to have him as their father.

“Let me know when you feel ready,” his thumb soothes your hand.

“We can go,” you tell him. “No need to make this last longer.”

In no time, you’re standing on Mister Song’s porch, waiting for him to open the door. Your heart is strongly hammering in your chest. This is more than scary, but you feel like you’re slowly getting closer to unveiling the truth about your parents. Strangely, it also makes you feel closer to them.

When he opens the door, your entire world freezes. Even your heart stops beating. You know this man. You met him twenty years ago, on the night your parents were killed. He’s the man that protected you from the butchery.

Twenty years ago, you were watching TV with your parents, but around 8 pm, somebody knocked at the door. It was your mother that opened it, and she was discussing with a man before she came to take you.

“Mommy and Daddy need to do something,” she told you in her honey-like voice. “This man is a good friend of mine, and he will take care of you while we’re gone.”

You were only ten so you didn’t question it. You didn’t think much about the fact they had something to do at 8 pm, something definitely unusual. You didn’t question the fact that you had never seen this man before. You didn’t even notice how scared she looked. You didn’t question anything, something you’ve deeply regretted your entire life.

This man took you to an ice cream store, offered you all the ice cream you wanted, and talked to you. Back then, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. It wasn’t every day that an old friend of your parents would come and give you all the ice cream you wanted. Over time, you forgot about the man’s name because, on that tragic night, you lost your parents. This man didn’t matter anymore.  

Jungkook’s glance goes from you to Sungmin, and he doesn’t need to be a genius to understand you both know each other. It’s definitely surprising, but not completely. You’re living in the same city, and you’re part of the same pack.

“You’ve already met, I suppose,” Jungkook breaks the long silence between you.

You and Sungmin nod, your eyes never leaving his.

“Please come inside,” he invites you in.

Before closing the door, he looks around to make sure nobody else is there.

“Would you like something to drink or eat?” he proposes with a smile on his face.

As you look at him, you notice that he hasn’t changed at all, except for the grey hair. He still has a warm and comforting smile on his face. A smile you never forgot.

“No, thank you,” you answer.

Jungkook answers the same, and the older man guides you toward the terrace. His house is pretty modest and filled with pictures everywhere. It might be his children and grandchildren. There are also pictures of him younger and he definitely hasn’t changed in a while. It seems like he always had this compelling posture as if he has always meant to be an Alpha.   

“Please take a seat,” he shows the chairs arranged around the table.

The three of you sit down, your eyes wandering around. This terrace is very beautiful, you hope that one day you’ll have a similar one. But you’ll need to earn a lot more money.

“So this is yn,” Jungkook introduces you. “The woman I talked to you about on the phone.”

“I know who she is,” the older man says, his eyes moving to you. “You’ve grown a lot in twenty years,” he smiles at you. “And you’ve become a wonderful woman.”

“Thanks,” you smile back at him. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Sungmin looks away for a minute as he wants to hide the tears forming in his eyes. You are his biggest secret. Nobody ever knew that, twenty years ago, he offered you as much ice cream as you desired. When he looks back at you and Jungkook, you only feel compassion for this man.

“I knew one day we’d meet again and I’ve been waiting every day, for the past twenty years,” he begins. “I was expecting you to come earlier, but I’m glad you finally came.”

“What happened?” Jungkook asks with curiosity.

Sungmin takes a deep breath, a lump forming in his throat as he remembers the events.

“Twenty years ago, your father the king found her parents. The ones that were running away from the pack for ten years.”

He doesn’t need to say much more. Jungkook knows. On your side, you frown, not sure to understand what he means, but you carefully listen to him.

“When I was informed of it, I ran to their house. I needed to see for myself if their child was still alive. If they really had a child ten years prior. Before I even knocked at the door, I heard that little giggle only a kid can do. It broke my heart,” a tear runs down his face. “And I took the terrible decision to take that child away from the house. I took that child as far away as possible because I was scared they could hear the screams of their parents. I didn’t want that child to grow up with that trauma.”

Then, you start to understand what is going on. You’re not a werewolf, or at least not completely. You’re a hybrid, and your parents were killed because of that. That explains why they never talked about it to you. They didn’t know if one day you’ll manifest any wolf signs. That’s why they also ran away from their hometown, and why your grandparents never approved their love. One of them was a human.

“I lied to everybody, I made them believe I had killed the child. Since nobody saw her face, it was easy to lie,” he looks down at the table. “I knew what I did was wrong, but killing a ten-year-old for a sin she never committed was inhuman. Putting an end to a pregnancy is one thing, but cutting short a child’s life is totally another,” his eyes look back up at you. “I don’t regret what I did, and I will never regret it.”

Shivers run down your spine. So your wolf abilities weren’t really dormant, they were there all along, but they were mixed with human blood. The pregnancy simply awoke that side of you, especially since you’re carrying a wolf’s child. Your baby is the reason why you’re now able to turn, and why your powers have increased. Your baby is the reason why you’re finally digging into your past.

“Since you’re a hybrid, I never knew what to expect. All I expected was for you to find me one day, and you did.”

“So Jung… Mister Jeon’s father is the reason why my parents were killed?” you ask.

Jungkook finds it weird that you call him Mister Jeon, but he can understand it. You’ve always been very respectful and even though you’re pretty close now, you still respect his king stature.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We are.”

Tears start appearing in your eyes, and both men only feel sorry for you.

“Your mother was a werewolf and had fallen in love with a human. She was the rebellious type, she never really followed the rules. Her parents and the pack were repeating that this love story would only end badly, but she didn’t care. Then, she got pregnant and ran away with your father,” Sungmin explains. “Hybrids are forbidden as you might know so we tracked her. For nine years we looked for them, but it was in vain. We then asked for the king’s help because he had better resources than us. In a year, he found you and we did what we had to.”

Now, the tears run down your face as you realize the extent of the situation. Your entire existence is forbidden. You shouldn’t exist, but here you are. And on top of that, you’re pregnant with the king’s child. Another forbidden life.

“How did my mother react when she saw you?” you ask.

“She wasn’t surprised at all, she even thought I was going to kill her, but I told them I wanted to protect the three of you,” he answers. “She told me that the only person she wanted me to protect was you. She was ready to face the consequences of her actions, but she didn’t want you to die for her sins.”

Thinking about her selfless move breaks your heart. You’re trying as hard as possible to not burst into tears in front of this man. Your mother always put you first, she was always making sure you were happy.

“She knew that the pack would kill you first, right in front of her eyes. She didn’t want her last souvenir to be that so I respected her last will—to protect you.”

Jungkook’s hand finds yours to hold it as tight as possible. This mustn’t be easy to hear. It mustn’t be easy to learn that you’re a hybrid. The only living hybrid.

“Who murdered them?” you ask. “My grandparents?”

The older man shakes his head. “They weren’t even present; how could they be? No matter what, she was their daughter. A daughter they deeply loved. It was another Alpha who did it,” he seems obviously very shaken up by this event. “Our pack has never been the same since then. Your grandparents retreated completely, grieving forever a daughter and granddaughter they lost. Each year, we gather together at your grandparents’ place to pay tribute to your mother and you.”

It devastates beyond comprehension to picture it. People have been grieving someone alive all along. People have been thinking about you when they hadn’t even met you.

“Even if you’re a hybrid, you’re part of our pack, and your grandparents always made sure to include you in those heartbreaking moments.”

“So you never revealed to them I was alive?” you ask.

Sungmin shakes his head. “I tried many times, but the words never left my lips.”

Right now, you only want to disappear. You don’t want anybody to see you while this devastating pain eats you alive. Mister Song and your parents protected you from death. They allowed you to live when you shouldn’t have.

Your wish to disappear is granted when you do so due to all the intense emotions you’re feeling right now. Jungkook is then unable to see you, but he can still feel you as his hand remains on yours. His fingers never stop caressing you in an attempt to calm the storm growing inside you.

Sungmin follows you and disappears as well but you’re still able to see him. You still see him like he didn’t blur into his surroundings. It’s so weird.

“I’m so sorry, yn,” his hand reaches out to yours, a hand that you hold.

“It’s not your fault,” you try to reassure him. “You did what my mother wanted; you protected me from a certain death.”

“But I could have insisted, I could have protected them,” he answers.

“You know better than I do that the pack would have never stopped looking for them. The issue would have been the same no matter what.”   

Your parents' end was destined to be tragic, but they chose to love each other. They chose each other despite the bans. They chose to have a child together and protect you as long as they could.

They knew from the beginning that you’d end up growing up without them. And right now, you hate them as much as you love them. They did all this for you, but you still hate them for knowing you’d be alone and without them.

Then Sungmin reappears, his gaze serious and looking at Jungkook, his king. He knows now what will happen to him. He’s a traitor. He helped a forbidden couple, protected a child that shouldn’t exist, and lied to the entire werewolf community.  

“Mister Jeon,” his voice tone is deep. “I’m ready to face the consequences of my acts.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, your eyes now looking at Jungkook. Slowly, you reappear as well. Jungkook has never faced such a situation, and he can’t make a decision in the heat of the moment. He needs to think, and most probably, he’ll have to report this incident to the council. Not only did Sungmin break the rules, but there’s a hybrid walking amongst them. The council will show no mercy to you and Sungmin.

But he can’t lose you, not after all of this.

He has a very strong and deep connection with you, and you’re carrying his child. This isn’t simple anymore.    

“Mister Song,” he says with a very strong tone. “I appreciate your honesty; it has enlightened us about Miss y/l/n’s past. But I can’t decide right now what to do.”

The older man nods, understanding that Jungkook is now deeply involved. He can hear that faint heartbeat in your belly, and above anything else, he can smell that baby’s scent. It’s a unique one. They’re carrying the strong scent that only the child of a king has. He can also see how deeply the king cares about you.

His decision doesn’t just implicate the Alpha. It implicates you, the baby, and him. Whatever he decides, the three of you will be impacted. It isn’t a light decision to make.

“I will be thinking about it and come back to you once I’ve decided.”

The Alpha bows to his king as a sign of respect. It’s really impressive the power Jungkook holds, and how even such an old Alpha submits to his king. This is incredible.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” he says while bowing.

The drive back to your place is done in complete silence. In some way, the car feels heavier, as if the weight of the truth you’ve just learned is pressing down on you. This time, your eyes are red and swollen, and your face is ravaged by the tear you couldn’t hold back anymore. Learning about your past terribly scared you, but knowing it breaks your heart. Now, you know what happened on that tragic night in July. You now understand why your parents were so cruelly murdered—or should you say executed—, and why you were spared.

Jungkook keeps his eyes focused on the road, but you can sense the tension in him. His grip on the wheel is tight, his knuckles turning white, and he constantly glances in your direction. He wants to say something, to comfort you, but nothing seems to come out of his mouth. He isn’t even sure his words will ever be able to comfort you.

Once in front of the apartment complex, he slows the car to a stop. His eyes shift to you fully for the first time. There’s something in his expression that stops your heart. There isn’t only worry, there’s pain as well, as if he’s carrying this burden with you. You’ve never seen that in his gaze; he’s never looked at you this way before, so unguarded, so raw.

The moment your eyes lock with his, the world around you seems to disappear. There’s no sound, no city around you, no heartbeats echoing in your ears. There’s just the two of you. His presence is comforting, it’s like he’s healing your sorrows in a way you can’t explain. How can someone make you feel this way, so understood, so seen?

“Can you stay with me, please?” you finally ask as you try to control your voice. “I don’t want to stay alone today.”

His response is immediate, and his voice is reassuring, “Sure,” he nods. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

The gratitude in your chest is overwhelming, and you manage to offer him a small smile.

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

Jungkook pulls into the nearest parking space before cutting the engine. You sit there for a moment, neither of you speaking. The air is heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, he steps out of the car and moves around to your side, opening the door and offering you his hand. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you take it without hesitation.

Without removing your hand from his, you both walk to your apartment. Jungkook is very much tempted to intertwine his fingers with yours; to offer you some unspoken reassurance but he doesn’t do anything, too scared of crossing an invisible line. Even inside the elevator, your hands remain locked. Neither of you speaks, but the warmth of his palm against yours feels reassuring. You only separate your hands to open the door.  

When you get inside, you both strip off your coats and shoes. You look at him, and he is lingering near the door, unsure whether he should move further.

“Do you want to drink or eat something?” you ask out of politeness.

“No, thanks,” he shakes his head. His voice is calm, but there’s something in his eyes. There’s concern, guilt, and ache that he doesn’t try to hide.

You nod and move to the living room to sit on the couch. Jungkook hesitates for a moment before joining you, sitting close but not too close. However, you close the distance as you throw yourself in his arms. You don’t hold back any tears, now crying in his arms. You’ve only known him for two months, but nobody has ever made you feel like this. You can undoubtedly trust him.

You rest your head against his chest, tears spilling over. He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm around you, his hand gently rubbing your back. The warmth of his embrace melts some tension inside you, and for the first time today, you feel like you can breathe again.

None of you speaks, Jungkook just rubs your back while you cry in his arms. You deeply miss your parents and discovering what truly happened to them devastates you beyond comprehension. Will you ever be able to overcome this? Will you now be able to finally accept your parents’ death?

You’re not sure, but only time will tell.

However, now the biggest question is what will happen to you? You’re a hybrid. You’re not supposed to exist, let alone the life growing inside you. Will you have to terminate the pregnancy? Will you be executed like your parents were twenty years ago? Jungkook is the only one who can answer you. He’s the one who’ll have to make that decision.

And, then there are your grandparents. They believe that you’re dead, and you’d like to meet them. You’d like to tell them that you’re very much alive, that Mister Song protected you all this time, that he saved your life. You’d like to tell them that they don’t have to honor your memory anymore.  

But you aren’t even sure you can do that. You aren’t even sure that they’ll accept to meet you.

And there’s also your paternal grandparents. You’d also like to meet them. They are human, and their opinion of you might be pretty much different. Unless they know their son married a werewolf. Now that you know the truth, you desperately desire to meet your grandparents. The four of them.

You’d also like to know if you have uncles, aunts, and cousins. There is so much you want to know about your family, but let’s not rush anything. First, you need to digest what Sungmin revealed. There was a lot of information.

Slowly, but surely, your tears stop falling down, and the pain inside your heart seems to be a bit more bearable. But you still hold onto his embrace for a little more. You don’t want to let go of him just yet.

“Thanks a lot for your support,” you say while you put an end to the embrace and clean your face. “You’ve helped me so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smiles. “You were embarked in this by my fault. The least I can do is help you.”

“This was never your fault in the first place,” you shake your head.

Maybe the clinic’s mistake wouldn’t have changed anything. Maybe, no matter who the father was, the pregnancy would have awakened your wolf blood. But, no matter what you have wolf blood in you, and sooner or later, something would have triggered it. The good part is that with the clinic’s mistake, you have Jungkook by your side.   

“But now we’ve discovered I’m a hybrid,” you continue.

Jungkook nods, his hand running through his hair. It’s the first time that he doesn’t know what to do. He’s completely lost because he’s starting to have feelings for you, and because it involves his child too. The rules are clear: hybrids can’t exist. But he never pictured himself falling for one, and having a child with one too. Your baby carries human blood; they aren’t of pure blood. How can such an heir exist? Nobody will ever accept to be ruled by the child of a hybrid.  

On top of that, this child is also the first one who isn’t fully a Blood. They have the blood of the Shadows running down their veins. Jungkook strongly believes that his blood will predominate, but there’s still a chance that they choose to be a Shadow. It will destabilize everything.

The thing with mixed-blood kids is that nature will choose to which pack they’ll belong. Nobody can belong to two packs. For sure, they’ll carry the heritage of both since their parents will be from two different packs. But we can’t know beforehand which pack they’ll be part of. It’ll only be found out at birth because once out of the womb, they’ll have the pack’s eye color for a couple of days.

There are so many unknowns now with this child.  

And he still has to reveal to his family he’s about to become a father. He was waiting to discover a bit more about your past before telling them about this wonderful news. But now, things are again complicated. His mother will tell him to put an end to both yours and the baby’s life. He’s not sure how his siblings might react to this, but he’s not expecting something positive.  

“What will happen to me?” you ask with a shaky voice.

His eyes meet yours, and they are glowing with something that gives you some hope.

“I’ll protect you,” he responds without hesitation. “Nobody is ever going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone touch you,” his tone is firm and assertive.  

Your heart now beats rapidly in your chest. It reassures you that he’ll protect you, and it means a lot since he’s a king. He’s supposed to be the one who leads by example, yet, he’ll be the first one breaking the rules. He’s going to protect a hybrid, a person that shouldn’t exist.

Jungkook gets closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to disappear around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek, leaving a warmth that spreads through your entire body.   

Time seems to pause, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more right now.

You know you wanted your first kiss to be deliberate, free from the chaos of emotions you’ve been swept into. But none of that matters now. The yearning you’ve buried rises to the surface, consuming you. All you care about is to taste his lips against yours. You want to know how they feel on yours. Those wild sex dreams have ignited something inside you, and you terribly desire to bring those dreams to life.  

His nose brushes against yours, the bare touch making you shiver. His proximity is intoxicating, and your lips are a breath away from meeting. When his eyes search yours, you know he’s silently asking for permission. And this time, you don’t pull away. Instead, your lips part slightly, and he sees the answer in your expression.

Then, he finally closes the distance. His lips press against yours with hesitation at first. The kiss is soft, and it feels like you’re discovering a part of yourself you never knew existed. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he deepens the kiss.

The world entirely disappears as his lips move against yours, guiding you, consuming you. Your body leans into his instinctively, your hands finding his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching beneath your fingers. When his tongue brushes your lower lip, your stomach flips, and you let him in.

The sensation is overwhelming and beautiful, a perfect blend of desire and intimacy as your tongues meet in a slow, sensual dance. He tastes like everything you’ve ever craved but never let yourself hope for. The kiss is tender as if he’s pouring all his emotions into this single moment.

When you break the kiss, you’re both breathless, foreheads resting against each other as your eyes meet once again. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, his touch is so soft it almost makes you shiver. You close your eyes to savor this moment. 

It’s a victory—not his, not yours, but yours together. You’ve been fighting this connection, but there’s no denying it anymore. This kiss has unraveled something inside you, and now there’s no going back. Now that you’ve had a taste of him, you know one thing for sure: he’s become impossible to resist.

His lips meet yours once more, but this time, he’s kissing you with a fervent passion. While kissing you, his strong body pushes you, allowing you to lay on the couch, his body hovering over yours. Then, his lips slowly descend to your jaw, your neck, cleavage, and they stop right above your shirt.

His eyes look up to meet yours as if he’s asking permission to keep going down. You nod, giving him free will to do whatever he wants. Without wasting any more time, his hand pushes down your shirt with your bra, exposing your breasts to his hungry eyes. The coldness of the air sends shivers through your body, your nipples hardening instantly. His breathing gets heavier as his eyes are glued to your chest.  

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

Then, without any warning, his warm mouth meets your right nipple to torture it with his tongue and teeth. Instant moans fall out your lips, and your hands find their way to his hair, playing with some strands while he vigorously sucks on your nipple. It feels blissful. You never imagined a simple kiss could lead to this.  

His left hand assaults your other breast, louder moans escape your lips, loving the way he’s giving you pleasure with his mouth and fingers. Your hands slightly pull at his hair while your mind is completely lost in lust. You’re completely unable to think correctly. The man on top of you shows no mercy, torturing you in the most exquisite way possible.

Jungkook definitely knows how to use his fingers and mouth, and damn, it’s even better than any wild dreams you had involving him. You don’t even want to start thinking about how it must feel to have his dick inside you.

“Jungkook…” you whisper as you picture him naked again.

That sweet sound makes his shaft grow harder, the space slowly growing smaller inside his pants. The way you turn him on is unique, nobody holds such a powerful grip on him. His mouth moves then to your left nipple to treat it exactly like your other nipple. The wetness inside your underwear only grows bigger, you can feel it. The amount of pleasure he’s giving you right now is out of mind, and you know you’ll come quickly.   

His right hand snails down on your body, stopping when it reaches the hem of your trousers. Very carefully, he unbuttons and unzips them. The second his fingers brush your core through your panties, a deep guttural sound leaves your lips, and your hand pulls harder into his hair. That action causes him to moan against your nipple.

This is such a blissful torture, but if he keeps touching you like that and moaning against your body, you’ll come undone rapidly.

His fingers slowly rub your pussy through your underwear, making you slowly turn into a moaning mess. Your body is contorting with pleasure under his, and you can feel his half-hard dick brushing against your thighs. The feeling is marvelous as you get to sense how’s feeling about this too.

Then, without further notice, he slips his fingers under your panties. His hand cups your pussy whole, and you both moan at the sensation. Jungkook is instantly welcomed with your wetness on his hot palm. Another moan slips through his mouth which makes you whimper. There’s no way you’ll survive this.  

“You’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs.

Jungkook drags his fingers down your slit, purposely avoiding your clit. You close your eyes in order to feel this all even more profoundly, a deep breath escaping your lips. The coldness of his fingers against your core is electrifying. You’re getting addicted to this man as he gives you more and more pleasure. How have you been living this whole time without his touch?

You lick your lips as he slowly rubs you up and down, spreading your own wetness over your sensitive skin. This feels so good, and it pushes away all the terrible emotions you went through today. His eyes look up at you as he desires to picture your face while being consumed by pleasure.

Your hips twitch against the couch when the tip of his finger brushes on your clit. As he does so, you feel a pleasurable electricity rushing through your body. Jungkook’s mouth stops abusing your nipple, his eyes completely hypnotized on your sweet face. His hand runs up and down your core and he makes sure that his fingertip touches your clit.

“How does it feel?” he finally breaks the silence.

“So…” you try to speak while he never stops his ministrations. “So good,” you whimper.

His fingertip now draws circles into your hardened clit, your back arching off of the couch, and your hips meeting his hand. The friction of his hand against your pussy is beyond delightful, his fingers bringing you straight to heaven.

“Jungkook,” you moan his name on repeat.

Your orgasm is slowly growing inside you, you know you won’t last any longer. It’s just a matter of seconds now. The man above you senses it the second your legs start shaking more and more. His fingers work harder, helping you chase your own pleasure.  

Then, you let go and the wave of pleasure violently washes over you. Jungkook stops his movements when he feels your juices leaking all over his hand. A smirk grows on his face, proud of himself for giving you an orgasm.

Jungkook removes his hand from your panties and buckles back your pants. Your heavy breathing slowly gets back to normal and after a while, you open back your eyes. The man who just gave you an orgasm offers you the brightest smile on earth.

“Hope you like it,” he says.

“It was wooow,” you tell him as you sit back on the couch.

The man presses a soft kiss on your cheek before arranging your messy hair. He can’t help but find you extremely adorable.

“Next time,” he whispers in your ear. “My fingers won’t be the only thing giving you an orgasm,” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine. His tongue licks your ear, a deep moan leaving your mouth.

The two of you know that this is just the beginning of what is going on between you. This connection is only growing stronger, and sooner or later, he’ll be standing between your legs, thrusting deeply inside of you.

And honestly, you can’t wait for that day to happen.

Tonight, Jungkook has arranged a family dinner.

It’s about time he reveals yours and the child’s existence to his family members. He’s pretty much nervous about this, but he has to tell them. A new life will join this family very soon. The next heir is on the way, and he can’t hide this from them any longer.

His mother is the first one to arrive, and she takes him in her arms. Then, a couple of minutes later, his younger brothers Hyunjin and Mingi make their appearances. And finally, Dohee appears with her husband, Namjoon.

It’s been a while since the entire family has been reunited under this roof. Dohee left the house eight years ago when she married Namjoon. His mother, Hyunjin, and Mingi left after the passing of his father. Back then, Yuna was slowly moving in and they wanted to give them the space they needed. After the breakup, they didn’t come back; they felt like it wasn’t their home anymore.

Hyunjin is six years younger than Jungkook, and he’s been in a very serious relationship with Nari for five years. Jungkook is surprised he hasn’t proposed to her yet; she’s his soulmate after all. Then, there’s Mingi, the youngest Jeon. He’s ten years younger and he was the surprise baby; their parents weren’t trying to have a baby at that time. Out of the four of them, Mingi was the most spoiled.

Even though Jungkook is closer to Dohee, the four Jeon’s siblings have a strong bond. The oldest always made sure they’d get along because family is so damn important. Their father’s death brought them even closer, and they’ve always been by their mother’s side to ensure she doesn’t grieve alone.

“So,” Jungkook begins, his eyes looking at the five people around the table. “Thanks for coming,” he smiles at them.

Dohee smiles back at her brother, her hand rubbing her belly. She should soon give birth to her fourth and, most probably, last child.

“There is a new Jeon on the way,” Jungkook’s smile grows bigger as he breaks the news.  

Jisoo, Jungkook’s mother stands up to hold her oldest child in her arms. Jungkook embraces her with the same strength, a tear forming in his eyes as her reaction deeply moves him.

“I’m so happy, Kook,” she says, her cheek pressed against his chest.

While he hugs his mother, he sees his sister’s face. Although she’s smiling and seems happy, something in her expression unsettles him. He knows she’s thinking about the fact that the baby is a hybrid; she was the only one aware of it back then. But, so much has happened since he talked to her, events that she will know now.

His mother sits back in her chair while her hands clean the tears on her face. Another one of her children is about to make her a grandmother again. Dohee is the only one who has been giving her grandchildren, and she’s happy Jungkook is also going to give her another one. She can’t wait to have her house filled with grandchildren.

His siblings and Namjoon congratulate him on the fantastic news. Although their reactions make him happy, he knows this light mood will not last long. They most probably will hate him when he’ll tell them what you truly are.

“Have you already met the surrogate?” his mother asks out of curiosity.

“A surrogate?” Hyunjin asks.

“I sought the help of a fertility clinic to have a child,” Jungkook explains to his brother. “It was getting harder to be waiting to become a father.”

His eyes move back to his mother to answer her question.

“But there’s no surrogate, mom,” he tells her.

Everybody’s reaction is the same. They all widen their eyes, except his sister. She’s known this for a month already, but she’s now worried about why he’s revealing this to the family. He should know nobody will be happy about him being a father to a hybrid, especially their mother.

“Are you with somebody?” she asks. “Or is it Yuna?”

“It’s absolutely not Yuna,” he instantly answers. “And I’m not with anyone, at least, not yet,” he rants.

Jisoo seems to be happy about all of this, but she still wants to understand how on earth he’s about to be a father if there’s no girlfriend and no surrogate. She starts wondering if he slept with someone only to have a child.

“The fertility clinic made a big mistake,” he explains. “A woman was mistakenly impregnated with my material, and at first, I thought she was a human. Obviously, this wasn’t possible since the baby would then be a hybrid,” they all shake their heads.

Jungkook purposely omits that he didn’t convince you to abort; his mother would kill him if she ever found out. Dohee takes a deep breath and shifts on her chair to try to find a comfortable position.

“But then, I found out that she wasn’t human,” he proceeds. “And it changed everything, she could keep the baby.”

Dohee’s expression now fully changes. She wasn’t expecting that, so she’s now very happy for her brother to have a pure-blood kid. Jungkook notices her sincere smile, and it already hurts him to even think about what he’s about to say next.

“However, she didn’t know that she was a werewolf.”

Now, they all frown, confused by this sentence. It clearly doesn’t make any sense.  

“How’s that possible?” Mingi asks.

Jungkook’s heart stammers in his chest. How does he explain now who you truly are? He’s not even sure he wants to do it, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. His family needs to learn from him that you’re a hybrid. Not from someone else.

“Her parents left their hometown, cut ties with their families, never told her about her wolf side, and died when she was still a kid,” he summarizes. “She was then raised by a human and never found out the truth until she got pregnant.”

He hardly swallows before he continues to reveal what has been going on for the past nine weeks. Honestly, those past weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster.

“I’ve been trying to help her discover what happened because as you can imagine, it’s a lot to take in.”

His heart is going crazy in his chest, and he’s barely able to look at his family as he proceeds with the story.

“She’s part of the Shadows, and I reached out to Mister Song to help us unveil her past.”   

They remain in silence, letting Jungkook speak. The man takes then an unreadable expression on his face to protect himself from what is about to come. He hates that he has to do it with his family, but he has to.

“Mister Song told us that thirty years ago, a Shadow woman ran away with a human,” his heart beats faster. His eyes move to his mother, hoping that she recalls that incident.

“Oh yeah, I remember that,” she says. “The Shadows couldn’t find them so they reached out to your father. After ten years, they managed to find them and their child.”

Jungkook bites his lower lip and he’s not sure how to continue with the story. Does he say now that you’re a hybrid? Does he maintain the mystery any longer?

“Well, we found out that the child was never killed,” he explains while avoiding saying that Sungmin spared your life. “And that child is the mother of mine.”

For a moment, the room is filled with a sharping silence. Jungkook doesn’t look away, trying to understand their expressions. They are all speechless, but he can see anger forming in his mother’s eyes. He was expecting it; she has never messed with the rules. He admires her for following the rules, not everybody does it, but this time around, it will be hard for her. He’s not going to abandon you because of your true nature. 

Mingi and Hyunjin are surprised but seem intrigued by all of this. Jungkook can see that curious flicker in their eyes. Dohee seems utterly shocked, but her expression softens when her eyes meet her brother’s. Namjoon seems mind-blown. And Jisoo, the matriarch, looks angry.  

“What?” Namjoon is the first one to break the silence. “A hybrid has been living for thirty years and nobody ever found out.”

Jungkook nods. “Yep.”

“A hybrid?” Mingi says. “That’s cool,” he continues.

“Mingi,” the mother’s harsh voice echoes in the room. “Hybrids are forbidden, there’s absolutely nothing cool about them,” her eyes now move to Jungkook. “And you, my son,” she’s very angry. “You know what you have to do.”

As he hears her words, a strong feeling of protection grows in him. Even if she’s his mother, she can’t tell him what to do, especially when it includes you.  

“No,” his tone is firm. “There won’t be any killing.”

“Neither the baby nor her can exist, son,” she responds.

“Like I said, there won’t be any killing,” his voice is calm, but still very firm.

Dohee, Mingi, Hyunjin, and Namjoon watch in disbelief the scene displaying in front of their eyes. It’s the first time Jungkook is using that tone on their mother, and it’s also the very first time he’s not agreeing with her. It seems like an unrealistic moment.

“She’s a hybrid, for fuck’s sake,” she swears, catching everybody off guard. “She can’t exist! It’s already a miracle she managed to live up until now, but you have to end her life right now before anybody else ever finds out about her.”

“Do you hear yourself, mom?” he says. “You’re talking about killing someone like it’s the same as making a cake. We’re talking about a life. In this case, even about two lives.”

The king runs his fingers through his hair, a sign that he’s extremely nervous. He knew his mother wouldn’t accept any of this, but it’s harder than he imagined. He hates to be standing against her. She has always been by his side, supporting him whenever he needed it.   

“I’m not saying it like that, but the rules are the rules,” she says.

“Then, fuck the rules!” he swears.

Now, everybody is surprised by his words. This isn’t the Jungkook they used to know; he’s been always composed and now, it seems to be losing it.

“Jungkook,” Dohee tries to intervene.

“Don’t Jungkook me,” he says to his sister.

He’s trying to stay calm, but it’s getting harder. Nobody seems to understand what he’s feeling.

“It’s easy for everybody to follow the rules when it doesn’t involve your child,” his voice tone gets higher. “I got attached to that baby even if they’re not born yet. I constantly hear their heartbeat every time I’m around her, and I can’t put an end to their life. It’s a big no,” he’s very firm. “It’s my child we’re talking about.”  

Tears start forming in his eyes, and his mother’s heart breaks as she hears his words. It makes her realize the complexity of the situation. For a moment, she puts herself in his shoes, trying to understand him.

When she found out that she was pregnant with Jungkook, it was the most beautiful day of her life. She desired her entire life to become a mother, and after her marriage, that desire only grew bigger. Hearing her son’s faint heartbeat was such an appeasing sound, and it was the prettiest sound she ever heard.

So, imagining that she needed to terminate the pregnancy because that child is a hybrid breaks her heart. It’s a decision she’s not sure she’ll be able to make. But the rules are the rules. Even if her grandchild will have more wolf blood than human blood, that doesn’t change the fact that the mother is a hybrid. She shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

“And she’s my soulmate,” his voice breaks.

Jungkook has been pushing aside the nature of his feelings for you, but after yesterday’s events, he finally realized it. You’re his soulmate. You’re the person that destiny chose for him. You’re the person with whom he’s supposed to mate. It’s a powerful bond that nobody will ever be able to break.

“I will protect her at all costs,” he adds.

His mother closes her eyes in disbelief.

“There’s nothing we can say, then,” Dohee concludes. “Except for Mingi, we all know how it feels to be around your soulmate, how powerful the love is, how deep the connection is, and what we’ll do to save our soulmates. For sure, she’s not supposed to exist, but destiny bonded her to you, our king. You have all powers, and we all know you’ll put her safety first,” she quickly looks at her husband. “I can’t blame you, Kookie. In your shoes, I would do the same. I’d save and protect Namjoon even if he was a hybrid.”

Jungkook looks at his mother, expecting now a reaction from her. Like Dohee said, she should know how he feels. For sure, his situation is messy as hell, but there’s not much he can do. If he kills you, he’ll forever be dead on the inside. A soulmate is a one-time thing; he doesn’t get to have two soulmates. 

“This is like a movie, but better,” Mingi says with a playful smile on his face. “Our brother, known as the werewolf king, falls in love with a hybrid, a forbidden species in our world, and he got her pregnant.”

“Stop being silly, Ming,” Hyunjin strikes his elbow against Mongi’s. “This is serious.”

“Rooh,” Mingi says. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. I know it’s serious, but as Dohee said, there’s nothing we can do. The hybrid is Jk’s soulmate so we better accept the situation and help him. That’s it.”

Mingi makes everything sound so easy, as he always does. His chill, laid-back, and easygoing nature makes him the most relaxed of all the siblings, and in moments like this, it’s exactly what’s needed.

“The hybrid’s name is yn,” Jungkook says once he realizes he didn’t even say your name.

“Son,” Jisoo says as she opens her eyes. “In between us, we can accept it because we know what she represents for you. But how will the others react when they realize that yn, their possible future queen, is a hybrid, and that the next heir is not of pure blood?”

Hearing his mother say that you’ll probably be the next queen makes him feel weird, but in a good way. The words catch him off guard at first, a mix of surprise and uncertainty flickering through him. But the thought of having you by his side, not just as a partner but as his equal, makes his chest swell with a warmth he didn’t expect. Maybe, just maybe, the idea of you as queen is a future he wouldn’t mind embracing. 

“We all know how they will react,” she pauses for a moment. “They will try to kill her. Soulmate or not.”

“I don’t care,” he honestly replies. “I will protect her from everything and anything.”

No matter what people say, he’ll do whatever he can to keep you safe. He’s a king so he has the resources to protect you, and he also hopes that his authority as king might protect you as well.

“Okay,” the matriarch answers. “Then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to meet her.”

A smile appears on her face. It’s not easy, but she’s ready to make an effort for her son. She’ll try to accept this all because you’re his soulmate. However, she needs to meet you first so she can see what kind of person you are.

“Okay,” he smiles. “I’ll arrange that.”

The tension slowly fades away and the family continues the dinner while talking of other things. Jungkook is aware of the fight waiting for him, and he knows it won’t be easy, but you’re worth it.

[animamii]

even while locked up, Toji will make Valentine's day special for you. He already has a letter sent to you every day leading up to the 14th. Some of them sweet, romantic. Others just straight up dirty. He also has Shiu get you some things, spending the money he has in an offshore bank account.

February 1st

There's a ring at your doorbell, and you sleepily open the door.

"Shiu!" You happily greet before you realize he's holding one of those giant ass bouquets of roses. One of those ramos buchones with the pretty gemstones and your initial spelled out with baby's breath. Flashy as hell. "What's all this?"

"Jus' read the damn letter," he nods to a red envelope, a cigarette dangling out his mouth but away from your precious gift. Toji would kill him even from the inside if he were to find out Shiu got even the slightest of ashes on his girl's gifts. You take the envelope, tracing your name written in Toji’s bold, messy scrawl. You barely close the door before sliding your finger under the seal.

Didn’t forget, baby. I never do. First day, first gift. You better love it. Had Shiu pick out the biggest, most ridiculous thing I could find. My princess only deserves the best, right?

February 2nd

The letter today is simple. Too simple.

Baby, I hope you didn’t think I’d only spoil you with flowers.

Your stomach twists in anticipation. Later that day, you hear a knock. This time, it’s a delivery service. You sign for a package, confusion written all over your face—until you open it. Inside is a velvet box. You slowly open it, and it catches the light, casting rays of color—a necklace, a gold figaro chain with a diamond pendant. Looking closer at the pendant makes your breath hitch.

His initials.

You press your lips together, heart thudding. The note beneath it is shorter this time.

Wear it. Every day. I’ll know if you don’t.

February 3rd

On your front porch it a tiny pink box with another letter perched on top. You open the box first, the whole collection of a lip gloss you wear, one Toji said was his favorite because he loves the scent and the taste when he kisses it off your lips.

I was gonna wait, but fuck it. You know I don’t have patience. I’ve been thinking about you too much, baby. Can’t sleep. Can’t focus. All I can think about is that pretty mouth of yours.

You don’t even finish reading before you slam the letter shut. Your face is on fire. He’s ridiculous. But your fingers linger on the page, gripping it tight. You’re not going to reread it. You’re not.

February 4th

Another gift. This time, it’s a designer perfume. You spray it on your wrist out of curiosity, inhaling the scent—rich, warm, deep. A little spicy yet still sweet. Just like you. A folded note is stuck in the packaging.

This is how I want you to smell when I have you under me.

You hate the way your breath catches. The way you tighten your grip on the bottle, as if that’ll stop the way his words sink under your skin.

February 5th

Shiu hands you the next letter without a word. You expect something dirty again, but instead—

You been eating, baby? Sleeping? You better be taking care of yourself. I’ll be real pissed if I find out you’re not.

You blink at the paper, stomach twisting. You don’t even like that he makes you feel this way. Cared for. Wanted. As soon as you look up, Shiu hands you the bags from behind his back. It's takeout from the place you always went to with Toji. Your favorites are inside, every single thing down to the drink. You knew Toji meticulously picked out each menu item. In the other bag Shiu hands you is self care items. Your creams and serums and even the face masks you force Toji to wear with you.

February 6th

You shouldn’t be looking forward to these letters as much as you do. But you do. This one is short.

You dream about me? Bet you do. Wonder if you wake up wet, missing my hands.

You rip it up, toss it in the trash.

Then, minutes later, you dig it back out, smoothing out the pieces.

You hate him.

February 7th

Another knock at the door. Another gift. This time, it's a dress—silky, short, scandalous.

The note?

Wear this when you come see me.

Your breath catches. He hasn’t mentioned seeing you yet, hasn’t even implied it. But now, it lingers in the air.

February 8th

A different kind of letter today.

If I was there right now, what would you do?

You should throw it away.

Instead, that night, you sit on your bed, staring at it in the dim glow of your bedside lamp, heart pounding in your chest.

February 9th

A small box sits outside your door in the morning. This time it's a velvet pouch. You pull the string, letting the contents slide onto your palm—an anklet, delicate gold with a tiny charm dangling off the chain. This one matches your necklace, his initials are on this one too. You don’t even hesitate this time. You clasp it around your ankle immediately.

This one's gonna be dangling over my shoulder soon.

February 10th

Shiu shows up again. Another box.

Inside? Lingerie.

Red. Lace.

The note is just one line.

Think about me when you put it on.

February 11th

You better be missing me, baby. I know you are.

This time the gift is a whole outfit. One of those flowy white maiden-style off the shoulder dresses, pretty sandals, and even an innocent enough white bra and panty set with cute little bows.

It doesn't go with the letter, which leaves you a tad bit confused.

February 12th

This letter is filthy.

Explicit enough that you don’t even know how he got it past whoever checks his mail.

You have to sit down after reading it.

And take a very cold shower.

February 13th

Another envelope. You open it, expecting a letter. But nope. Just a single ticket to Italy for February 15th. Weird.

February 14th

A single rose sits outside your door, a final letter tucked beneath it.

You should know by now to lock your windows, ma. Don't know what kind of scary men could climb through your window.

What the?? Slowly you turn around, and there he is, in the flesh. All smug and cute like he knows he did a damn good job at surprising you.

"Happy Valentine's Day princess."

[luvyeni]

being a passenger princess and giving your driving boyfriend moral support

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이희승 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. word count. 0.7k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ something about road head intrigues me so much idk why

you loved being a passenger princess; not having to drive, just being able to cross your feet on the seat despite your boyfriends protest and eat your snacks you packed , while your boyfriend drove you to your destinations — you could never imagine driving when you had heeseung to do it for you; you were simply there to look pretty and give your man moral support.

“baby you’re stressing me out, i told you to charge your ipad last night , i said it’s gonna be a long drive and what did you say.” he said. “it was already charged.” you rolled your eyes. “don’t roll your eyes at me , you wanted to be the lazy one and not get up to get it.”

was he correct? yes. but you weren’t about to let him know that. “well i thought it was charged.” you said. “you’re on it all day , you clutch on to it like 3 year old.” he said eyes still on the rode. “it couldn’t possibly be charged.”

“tch , and to think im here giving you moral support.” he laughed. “moral support is you pestering me about stopping at a store to get you a snack , then sure princess , i love the moral support you’re giving me.” he put his hand on your thigh. “love it so much.” he squeezed playfully. “i know you do.”

you reached over the console , kissing his cheek. “baby let me drive.” he giggled , never taking his eyes off the rode. “is this not moral support?” you gave him another cheeky kiss. “do you not feel supported?” he smiled. “all the time , baby all the time.” he let you keep kissing his cheek — then you started going lower; kissing his jaw , giving little nibbles. “don’t get too carried away , your parents will ask questions if you leave marks.”

he felt your lips kiss behind his ear , he sighed. “baby don’t kiss there.” he should’ve pulled you off while he was driving , but he couldn’t resist any advances when it came to you. “yo-you know it’s sensitive there.” you smirked against his neck. “i know.” he felt his cock jumping in his sweats. “that’s why i'm doing it.”

“fuck.” you worked down his neck , your palm flat against his chest. “baby , let me pull over then.” his cock hard in his pants, your hand going down to his waistband. “no, keep driving.” you kissed his chest , trying not to block his view. “we’re gonna be late if you do.” you finally made your way down to his lower region. “lift your hips.”

he took one hand off the wheel to undo the tie of his sweatpants , pulling them down enough to free himself. “shit.” he hissed the hair hitting his sensitive tip. “so pretty hee.” you grabbed the base of his cock. “love your cock so much.” you kissed the red tip , his sticky precum covering your lips. “sh-shit baby.” he groaned. “show me how much you love it.”

you slowly worked your way down on his length , his hand came to the back of your head , not pushing you down , just resting as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. “mhm fuck baby keep doing it like that.” he groaned , eyes hazy but he forced them open. “this is so-so fucking dangerous baby — but fuck your pretty mouth feels so good.” his hips involuntarily moving up and down. “god i love you so much.”

you noticed he was about to cum when he began to push on your head. “fuck , fuck princess im about to cum.” he groaned out. “fuck I’m cumming.” you felt his sticky cum shoot to the back of your throat. “fuck swollow all of baby.” he sighed. “be a good girl and clean me.” you licked up all his cum , sticking your tongue out once you swallowed. “good girl.”

“is that the type of support you meant?” he laughed once he got himself together. “almost causing an accident?” you smiled. “you sounded like you enjoyed it.” you wiped your mouth , taking a sip of water. “hell yeah i did.” he said , his hands creeping up your thigh. “let me repay you.” he said. “you wanna cum on my fingers?” you nodded. “ye-yes hee.” his hands working his way into your pants. “good girl.” his hand cup your cunt , not taking his eyes off the rode once as his fingers slid inside of you. “oh heeseung.” you moaned out.

god you loved being a passenger princess.

©️LYVYENI

[hoshifighting]

Olá Lyla Recently i saw a tweet saying that for us girls when reaching the climax the best is to take deep breathes instead of tensing up and then i saw someone say that the best thing that a man has ever told her was "breathe baby..." so... how would experienced seventeen members "teach" you this while in naughty time???? love you girllll <3

seventeen asking you to breath before an orgasm

A/N: hello my luv!! ❤️🧚🏼‍♀️ it may sound a bit repetitive, but i tried my best to give each one a nuance! 👍 AND YES!!! this is the sexiest thing a man can do, only after being being loyal 😩

seungcheol: "baby, slow down. breathe with me." voice so soft, but his grip on your hips is firm, making sure you stay in rhythm with him. he watches you, eyes dark, waiting for you to listen. when you finally let out that shaky exhale, body melting just the way he needs, he grins "yeah, that’s it. just like that." he’ll keep guiding you through it.

jeonghan: "shhh, there you go, breathe, my love." he smirks at first when he notices you tensing, then he’s softening, his thumb brushing over your lips, coaxing them open. "breathe for me, sweetheart." he hums in satisfaction, kissing the breath right from your lips like a reward. he’s soooooo patient.

joshua: "baby, take a deeeeep breath. i got you." he’s soooooo reassuring, holding you close, rocking into you at a pace that forces you to feel everything. "don’t rush it, just breathe." and when you finally do, when your body stops fighting the pleasure, he leans in, whispering, "that’s my good girl."

junhui: "you’re holding your breath, baby. relax, yeah?" he notices immediately, and his hands are everywhere, smoothing over your body, making sure you feel him, not just the overwhelming build-up. "trust me, just let go." and when you finally exhale, he smirks, feeling the way you melt beneath him. "mm, there she is."

hoshi: "breathe, baby. just feel me." the second he feels you start to lock up, his hands tighten on your thighs, keeping you wiiiide open for him. "don’t fight it, just breathe."

wonwoo: "baby, you’re shaking. slow breaths, okay?" he’s so gentle about it, barely pulling back to look at you, his hands guiding you through the pace he knows you need. " just relax, love." and when you finally exhale, unclenching, letting yourself have it, he murmurs, "there you go, that’s my girl."

woozi: "deep breaths, baby. i know it’s a lot." he’s actually teasing you tho!! but his voice is cooing and warm. he can feel the way you’re holding back, so he leans in "don’t hold out on me. just breathe, let me take care of you".

minghao: "no, no, baby, don’t run from it. just breathe." his hands LOCK you in place, not letting you escape what he’s giving you. his voice is so confident, like he knows what’s best for you. and when you finally obey, letting the pleasure fully wash over you, he smiles lazyly, satisfied. "good girl."

mingyu: "breathe, sweetheart, i got you." sweet, but there’s an edge to it, a knowing grin as he watches you struggle to keep up. he knows it’s too much, knows you’re about to cum, but he holds you steady, whispering soft reassurances until you finally let go.

seokmin: "don’t be shy, baby. deep breaths, you’re doing so good." he’s so tender, so encouraging, his kisses never stopping as he guides you through it. "told you it’d feel even better."

seungkwan: "you’re holding your breath again, love. breathe with me." he actually demonstrates, exaggerating a deep inhale, waiting for you to copy him. and when you do, when your body responds exactly how he knew it would, he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "fuck, that’s it."

vernon: "babe, don’t fight it. just breathe." he actually grounds you. his lips find yours, his hands roaming, making sure you feel safe, feel wanted. when you finally let yourself sink into it, he smirks, whispering, "knew you’d feel even better if you listened."

chan: "deep breaths, baby. lemme take care of you." his grip tightens just slightly, his pace slowing, forcing you to actually feel each thrust. he kisses you through it, holding you as you finally cum. "see? you just needed to relax."

[twistedpink]

DREAM RIDDLE DRIVING ME INSANE (spoilers for chapter 7!)

Really being his “friend that you makeout w/“ but introducing him as your boyfriend to your nosey parents,, He kisses you hard behind closed doors and you can practically taste his scowl!! His lipstick smears against your chin, only dragged further towards your jaw by greedy fingers and sloppy bites,,

“Why’d you say that? You’re wayy too soft, don’t have to prove shit to those saggy dimwits.”

“Riddle! Those’re my parents!”

“So? Ow! Stop hitting me!”

omigod being his impromptu manager for the few paid performances he gets, and organizing gigs for the band because you know he loves performing <3 He hates that you get all bossy when you’re in a groove, but he lets it slide. Totally not because he likes you or anything!!

“This is how we’ll be doing warmups from now on- it’s the safest way!”

“I’ll sing when and how I want, but I wouldn’t be mad if you joined me for a duet with your baby-proofed vibe :)”

Riddle doesn’t keep clothes he doesn’t wear, so whenever you redo his hair it’s shirtless or in one of your tops,, He buries his nose into the fabric to mask any dye smells, but when that “isn’t strong enough” the next best thing is your neck! As revenge you draw hearts into his back with the strongest colour, but it’s not very effective when he shows them off :/ The brat doesn’t even bother cleaning you up, but the post shower clinging is to die for!!

“OOOOOOOOOOO Who made you look this pretty??”

“..You did..”

“YEAHHHHHHHH”

No matter what you pursue and how it aligns with his values, Riddle’s at your back. Hell, you could even be a policeman, and he still wouldn’t ditch you! You’re just too cool :) He’ll never admit it, but if there’s anyone in the world he’s willing to get hitched with, it’s you. (For tax purposes!!) <3

“Even if you’re a little goody-goody, we’re chill.”

“Wait, REALLY? You loveeeee me!!”

“No way!”

[mv1simp]

Agora Hills ♥️

Max Verstappen x Midsize!Reader

heavily requested part 2 to cuffing szn! Can also be read as stand alone/on its own too 😌😌

kissing, i hope they caught us, whether they like it or not (i wanna show you off, i wanna tie the knot)

Your sweet boyfriend, Max Verstappen, is a lot bigger than you are, and a lot stronger too. You know firsthand - when he uses it time and time again to prove how your curves are the perfect size for him, both in the bedroom and out of it. Your insecurities don't stand a chance against his protectiveness. This tough season, though, you want take control and look after him, and take all of his tension away. You might have underestimated just how strong Max is though...

content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom!max, reader who tries to be a dom but fails lol, overstimulation kink, brief mention of eating disorder, WC 4k

Filing your patient’s notes back in place, you warmly say your goodbyes to the nurses and make your way to the carpark. You loved your work as a doctor in women's health, truly you did - it was even how you’d met your loving boyfriend, Max, when you’d delivered his sister Victoria’s baby. But it had been a very trying week with numerous complex births and anxious new parents. On top of that, your sweet boyfriend, who’d normally take all your stress away in the evenings by breaking you apart with his strong hands and then putting you back together again, had been away for the past month on back to back race weekends.

So you’re very excited because he’s finally flown back into Monaco today, and you can’t wait to get home and see him. Tossing your Hermés bag - a one year anniversary present from Max - into the passenger seat, you slam on the accelerator and speed to his downtown penthouse that you’d recently moved into. Your dainty heels click against the hardwood floor as you walk down the hallway, curiously looking around the living room and pouting when you don’t spot him lounging on the sofa or back on his sim. Frowning, you think he must not have arrived yet - but then you spot the open French doors on the balcony.

Eagerly walking through them, your suspicions are confirmed when you see your boyfriend comfortable dressed in a hoodie and sweats, intently watching something on his phone and oblivious to the outside world. When he hears your excited Maxie! his thick neck snaps up, focused expression morphing into one of pure adoration as he swiftly stands up from the outdoor chaise and steps towards you. Schatje! he beams, broad arms opening to meet your running figure and easily picking you up to bury him face in your neck. You laugh delightedly, finally reunited with your golden retriever of a boyfriend. Missed you so much, pretty girl, Max murmurs, his deep voice muffled as he presses soft kisses all over your neck and chubby cheeks. Did you finish work early? Sorry, I got distracted, I was going to come pick you up.

You sigh contently, feeling some of stress of the past couple weeks leaving your tense figure just from your boyfriend’s warm and secure embrace. Max supports your full weight when you wrap your soft thighs around his toned waist, your YSL heels slipping off and landing on the ground. Not as much as I missed you, you promise, your small palms running across those ridiculously broad shoulders to gently tug at his soft locks. He draws back just enough to let your plush lips meet his, the pair of you smiling into the sweet kiss. You’re well on your way to a steamy make out when the ringtone of Max’s phone interrupts the mood. You pout as Max reluctantly pulls away, scowling when he sees his boss’s name flash on the screen. When he doesn’t bother answering the call, turning back to you instead, you curiously ask if he was going to get that.

Max firmly tells you absolutely not, I have much more important things I’d rather be doing as he carries you inside. He sets you down gently on the soft bed, moving to cover your much smaller frame underneath him as he grins down at your flushed face, his display of strength never failing to get your heart fluttering. Things like taking good care of my pretty girlfriend like she deserves, hmm?

Distantly, you hear his phone ringing again but it’s once again ignored as he leans down, desire clear in his gorgeous blue eyes. As much as you would rather resume your makeout session (and wow, did it take a lot of self control for you to pause this), you place a hand to his broad chest to gently halt him. He pauses, confused, and you tilt your head and ask if everything was okay, he normally would never miss Horner’s calls?

Max rolls his eyes at the mention of his boss’s name, flopping down next to you with his head propped up against a large palm. He grunts out that Horner had been up his ass for no reason lately, waffling and trying to skirt around the issue when Max had been very clear that the goddamn car was the issue this season.

Your boyfriend’s angled jaw clenches as he says this, his expression turning stormy as his mind wandered someplace else. You’re perplexed, as normally your boyfriend was a bit of a yapper - something you adored about him - and could easily complain to you for hours about anything troubling him. You feel a bit guilty as you may have taken a bit of a backseat this month given how rare a bad outcome was for Max’s races. You’d known that this season hadn’t been as stellar but assumed it would all smooth out - but by the looks of it, it clearly hadn’t, and you knew Max took his racing career extremely seriously and wouldn’t repeatedly avoid calls from Horner without good reason.

You sweetly apologise to Max for being so out of it, a worried expression on your face, especially since he had always been so attentive and caring to your needs. Especially last year when you’d been struggling with an eating disorder when fans had made vicious, jealous comments about your curvy figure once your relationship had gone public.

Max’s gaze softens as he looks down at your guilty brown doe eyes, his hand coming up to brush against yours which was resting on his stubbled cheek. His heart swells at seeing how cute you were trying so hard to make sure he was feeling okay. Oh, schatje, he croons, leaning down to lovingly kiss your adorably scrunched brows. Don’t worry, you always take such good care of me whenever I need it. It’s just the same old cycle of racing drama. Besides, things at the hospital were really hectic this month, right?

You try to protest the change in topic, wanting to bring it back to him, but then he’s sliding his tongue in to explore your mouth and you’re rather distracted, especially when his fingers trail up your fitted skirt. Your ass looks amazing in this, Max groans against your ear, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink despite his bold words, telling you he liked you in it so much he almost didn’t want to take it off. You giggle at that, coyly telling him he didn’t have to and guiding his hand to slide the skirt up over your thick hips, making his cheeks flush from your tempting show. Grinning wickedly, Max shamelessly lets his hungry gaze wander all over your curvy figure before he makes good on his earlier promise to take good care of his pretty girlfriend.

Really, there was no better stress relief than your boyfriend bending you in half, you think satisfactorily that evening when you and Max are out with friends for dinner. He catches your eye as you stretch your neck, your muscles pleasantly relaxed after a month of wound up tension. When he smirks at you over his G&T you flush, knowing he was probably thinking about how he’d had you in several different positions just a couple of hours earlier. Quickly joining the conversation on your right, you hope your friends don’t notice the heat rising to your cheeks everytime Max’s blue eyes meet yours. You two had been dating for over a year now, so you had no idea how he could still make you feel shy and flustered after an hour (or two) in bed.

Still, you hadn’t forgotten about your earlier conversation with your boyfriend, where you’d made it clear you wanted to support him more. Over the next couple of weeks, whenever you’d ask him about it, he’d open up a bit but you still noticed a frustrated edge to his behaviour. You tried to talk to him about it, of course, with a soft hand against his swollen bicep to sweetly murmur that you would always support him and ask how the latest debrief had been, was there anything you could do to help? You offered to cook his favourite dinner, or give him space to spend hours on his sim and practise, or personally go to headquarters right now and give Horner a peace of your mind for stressing out your talented boyfriend-

Max laughed, head tilted back and lips pulled into an adorable smile. You paused your rant to enjoy the sound of his genuine laughter, looking at him fondly as it never failed to make your heart race. But he’d still evade your inquiring questions and countless offers to do more, as your need to do more for Max the way he always supported you grew over the next month. For all his yapping, your boyfriend was very much an action man where it truly mattered.

So you made sure to attend his next race, rescheduling a few work commitments and joining him aboard his private jet to fly out to Singapore. He'd protested initially, of course, telling you that you didn't need to add more stress to your busy workload for his sake, but you'd firmly told him there was no where you'd rather be that weekend than by his side. And you remained steadfastly dedicated throughout the free practice and qualifying, diligently observing the team dynamics and Max's mood in response so you could debrief with him in the evenings, letting him yap about it to his heart's content. You made sure to give him space when he needed it or rub a soothing arm over his thick shoulders when he tensed, knowing how physical touch was your boyfriend's love language.

On race day, you arrived stylishly dressed in a House of CB floral corset dress and dainty heeled sandals that perfectly matched the weather. Smiling from behind your sunglasses at the multiple paparazzi and fan cameras clicking at you, you confidently walked alongside your boyfriend with your small hand in his much larger one. The pair of you made for a rather romantic sight with the large height difference, going viral on many a Pinterest board for your couple aesthetic. Of course, you'd learnt the hard way about how quickly public attention could burn someone badly with the hate comments you'd received about your weight or height from jealous fans when you two first went public. Although they had never stopped occurring, only increasing as you and Max stayed together, you had gotten far better at tuning them out. And it seemed your attentive boyfriend hadn't forgotten about it, either, judging by how his grip tightened around your delicate fingers and he protectively pulls you into his side when more paparrazi join the storm.

You're quick to reassure him, telling him how happy you were to be here, wanting him to focus on his race and knowing how guilty he would sometimes feel when reminded of how much his public career negatively affects those he loved. Besides, baby, you wink at him as he's about to buckle his helmet on in the driver's room, You know I hate to miss a chance to see you all worked up and sweaty in those slutty fireproofs!

Successfully diverted, your boyfriend now groans embarrassedly at your words, rolling his eyes but not being able to hide the cute blush that appears on his cheeks or his affectionate smile. He leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his chest warming at the sound of your happy giggles at his reaction. He can't resist pressing a kiss to your lips then, instead, making you promise you would stay safely in the garage the whole race. Of course, Maxie, you reassured, knowing he didn't need the worry of you encountering the occasional nasty fan adding to his stress. I'll be right here, I promise.

Once the race starts, you're asking yourself why on earth you weren't attending them more regularly, because the sight of Max expertly navigating the track never failed to make you hot and bothered. The high Singaporean temperatures only added to the heat on your face as you heard your boyfriend's normally gentle tone turn into a confident, demanding voice over the team radio. The race was a great one, with the Dutch Lion aggressively fighting his way to P2, making you clap your hands in excitement as he crossed the finish line.

Afterwards, his garage crew guided you to the podium, where Max's blue eyes sparkled warmly at you in the front row, as you laughed with delight, buzzing exctedly. You knew he had been raised to firmly believe only P1 mattered but since you'd begun dating him, you'd made it clear that he was always a strong champion and racer to you regardless of his position. You greeted him as he descended from the podium, beaming up at him as he took you into his strong arms to give you a passionate kiss, your heels lifting off the ground. Cameras clicked around the loving scene, but for once Max didn't mind, content in the feeling of you wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders to whisper how amazing his performance had been!

Setting you down, he took your smaller frame against his with his muscular arm across your shoulder, guiding you away from the crowd. He relaxes a bit closer to the safety of the garage, now answering some reporter's questions as they eagerly question him. He swears he'd taken his eyes off you for only a minute, but suddenly you're not at his side, and he immediately spins around mid interview to look for you. You're only a few meters away, chatting away to one of the news outlets. The reporter holding the microphone balks nervously when a angry looking, 6 foot blonde Dutch appears behind you, looking the very picture of a guard dog with his suspicious glare to the cameraman.

Noticing your boyfriend's intimidating presence, you welcome him into the conversation, saying you'd just been explaining how proud you were seeing him race, the turn into corner eight and when he'd overtaken the Mercedes with DRS were your favourite moments! The reporter hastily nodded, wiping away nervous beads of sweat as he confirmed Yes, yes, we were just discussing the race highlights, and many of our viewers were also eager to know who had styled your lovely girlfriend today, we had many fans hoping to buy the same outfit...?

Oh, Max says, softening his icy glare. Fine. My girlfriend is very beautiful, after all, I can see why those watching would want to have her style. Which she picks out, herself, by the way, no stylist or anything, he adds almost smugly. You giggle cutely at his overprotective antics, leaning in when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays by your side. Pinterest goes crazy that evening with the picture of your boyfriend adoringly gazing down at you, his muscled arm curled around your waist, as he listens to you animatedly explain your outfit to the reporter.

On the flight back home, he'd taken your smaller hand in his again, gently stroking it and avoiding your questioning gaze as he softly murmured that It had been hard, with work recently, and he'd loved having you there as a good luck charm. His cheeks are flushed again as he confesses, almost shyly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and looking down at your intertwined fingers instead of at your beaming face. He was grateful you'd come, knowing how hard it was to get out of work and also deal with the media circus. His words sounded dangerously close to guilty territory and you sit up immediately, pressing into him so that he finally looks up at you.

Not at all, Maxie you insisted, firmly telling him that the actual hard part had been trying to keep your hands off him, did he have any idea how insanely hot he'd looked when warming up with his trainer this week and boxing shirtless? I had to remind myself that this was technically your place of work and take a cold shower, you continue, enjoying seeing him erupt into laughter at your own confession. He'd slyly suggested that the race weekend was over and, well, maybe it was time to for you to finally join the the mile high club?

Your boyfriend always seemed to know how to make you flustered and you lose any upper hand you had immediately, gasping from his suggestive words and unable to meet his heated stare. Max! Wh-what if someone sees? you whisper nervously, to which Max laughs and tells you he'll just have to have you have you here on his lap then, where no one would notice. The cabin is already empty, giving you two complete privacy and Max doesn't hesitate to make the most of it. He uses the strong arms you'd been admiring to easily bounce you on his cock, the both of you still half dressed. You're completely powerless in his firm grip, eyes rolling in bliss as his large hands leave bruises over your hips from the intensity. You’re desperately trying to keep quiet and Max smirks at this, giving you another wicked thrust at just the right angle so you let out a squeal. You whine from his mean teasing and have to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your satisfied moans as he makes you cum on his cock, leaving a creamy white ring around the base. Afterwards, as he presses a loving kiss to your head as you fall asleep leaning against his shoulder, you can't help but pout over how little control you seem to have over Max in the bedroom as he uses his strength to control the pace. How were you ever going to make him go mindless and relaxed for once?

Of course, the drama continues with work well after Singapore, even though there was a month's break before the next race. Max's schedule is packed with meetings and discussions and debriefs on how to secure the WDC title again this year, and you make sure to keep an attentive eye on him. But to your frustration, you note Max is withdrawing again, turning down your offers to talk his frustrations through or let you take care of him for once. So after you’d already gifted him the latest e-sim racing game, and cooked his favourite foods for dinner, you naturally offered another one of your boyfriend’s favourite things - you.

When he returned from a late strategy meeting he’d had to fly out for, jaw tense and frustration evident on his face, he immediately felt himself start to unwind when he opened the front door of your shared apartment. The delicious smell of roast chicken and potatoes wafted out to the hallway, and he smiled as he walked towards the corner, knowing you must be in the kitchen from the Doja Cat song blasting that you hummed along too. Kissing and I hope they caught us, whether they like it or not...

Jimmy and Sassy, Max's cats, rubbed their tails along your freshly shaved and moisturised legs as you started cutting up the chicken you’d baked. Giggling at their demanding antics, you turn to kneel down and give them a small piece each, whispering that they had to promise they wouldn’t tell Max. An amused chuckle makes you startle and look up to see your boyfriend watching you, leaning against the counter. The tips of his ears go pink as he takes in your angelic white mini dress, its sweetheart neckline and tight waist with flowy skirt showing off your hourglass figure.

Maxie! You greet him excitedly, making his gaze wander when your tits press up against his firm chest when he bends down to let you kiss his cheek. You smelt so addictive, too, like honey and vanilla that he wanted to bury his face in and never leave. You excitedly show him what you’d made for dinner, stepping back and telling him to go take a shower while you finished up. And after he’d eaten your delicious cooking, groaning and telling you how much he missed it when away, you coyly smile and say you’d forgotten to make dessert but if he didn’t mind you had something sweeter you could give him?

The blush returns to Max’s face now as you lean him to give him a deep kiss before settling in between his thick thighs, spread wide apart. Within a few seconds you've pulled his impressive semi out of his sweats and are teasingly jerking him off, letting his leaking tip press against your chubby cheeks. It's a sight that never fails to drive your boyfriend wild and he groans when you swirl your wicked tongue over his sensitive head, one hand still pumping his shaft as you sweetly bat your wide, doe eyes up at him. He can see the curve of your plump ass on the floor peeking out as your white minidress rises up your soft thighs. You take him into your drooling mouth fully, eagerly deepthroating him and placing sloppy kisses along his length when you pull back to take a breath. Fuck, schat, it’s so fucking good, I’m not gonna last- Max swears above you, deep moans rumbling in his chest from your worship of him tonight, his blushing face thrown back into the sofa with pleasure as he threads his hands into your dark curls to softly tug at them. Pleased with yourself, thinking you'd finally gotten him to let go and relax, to let you take care of him for once, you jerk him off, your pink tongue darting out eagerly to catch his hot cum-

But your boyfriend has other plans, apparently, because suddenly he's leaning down and pulling you into his lap. You gasp at the unexpected movement, your hands automatically going around his broad shoulders. He kisses your protests away, leaving you whining that he should let you finish, you wanted to make him feel good, Maxie-

He cuts you off with a low groan against your lips, whispering you that you'd done such a good job, sweet girl, and now he wanted to eat dessert properly. And you hadn't been able to protest any longer because soon enough he had you sprawled across the soft sofa, moaning his name blissfully as he ate you out to completion. Always taste so damn sweet for me, schat he huskily murmurs against your soaked core, strong hand pressing on your soft tummy to hold you down. His blue eyes are trained on your flushed face as his deep, rumbling voice sends sparks shooting in between your legs. He then sends you into another head pounding orgasm when he sinks inside your inviting walls, whispering that it was never going to stop being the most addicting feeling he'd felt.

Face flushed from his generous praise, you desperately hold onto the cushions behind you as Max fucks you into the sofa. You plead with him to let you ride him, Maxie please, let me take care of you too-

Your boyfriend’s blue eyes darken at your request. Schatje, he croons into your ear, I wasn’t clear enough, hmm? The best fucking feeling in the world is having your tight pussy take my whole cock like this, letting me fuck all the stress away. He accentuates each word with a deep thrust, making you squeal and moan endlessly. So you stay right where you belong, sweetheart. Underneath me, taking all of me like a good girl, okay?

Your eyes widen at his dominating tone, your cunny clenching excitedly around his length at the thought of your normally sweet boyfriend using your body like a ragdoll to release his stress. you nod frantically, babbling that you’ll be so so good Maxie, you promise! Max grins wickedly at your teary expression, giving you a passionate kiss as he fucks you with full strength, not holding back as he drives you into a third dizzying orgasm. He’s not done, though, and your drooling pussy twitches from the overstimulation, making you moan weakly that it was too much, you couldn’t handle another one. Oh, we’re not stopping till I say so, schatje Max murmurs against your throat, making his way down to your bouncing tits and taking a swollen nipple into his hungry mouth. You promised to be a good girl, remember? This time you’re gonna squirt all over my cock.

—————————————————————————

A/N: thank you all sm for all the love and support for cuffing szn, i am absolutely here for the midsize girlies and glad you all enjoyed it so much!! Nothing like big boyfriend Max to get us going 😏 Hope part 2 is also good thank u for waiting so long for it xx lmk what u think!

[vampzity]

you’re mine | Y.JN

★ DAY EIGHT: MARKING WITH JEONGIN ★

pairing: bf! jeongin x f! reader

while getting ready to go out for his birthday, jeongin can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. all day his mind filled with dirty thoughts of you— the way you looked in his clothing, how your hips moved when you walked. he wanted to tear you apart, make sure that everyone knew you belonged to him.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, hickeys, biting, possession, pet names (baby, bunny, whore, angel), praising?? degrading??, fingering, a bit of nipple play, oral (f. receiving), innie gets a little jealous

word count: 2k

Jeongin sat in the kitchen, watching as you paced back and forth while getting ready. He was already done, but he always told you to take your time since he didn’t mind the wait. He understood that sometimes girls just took a little longer and was okay with that.

You made repeated trips to the kitchen, asking him what looked best on you and what outfits might’ve clashed with his own. To him, you were a bit of a perfectionist— as you always make sure to keep everything in line. Jeongin didn’t mind, in fact he loved watching how each outfit looked on you, how perfect the fabric hugged the natural curves on your body.

He didn’t care what you wore outside, as he always made it clear to everyone that you were off the market. Though he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him jealous the way you caught others attention.

“Innie are you even listening to me?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, meeting your pouted eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest. His eyes dropped to your outfit, noticing how your black body con dress hugged your waist tightly. It ended at your mid thighs, and you tied it together with one of his dark blue jean jackets to give more of a baggy look.

“Should I wear the stockings that have the fleece on the inside, so I don’t get cold? With my black boots?”

You did a swift 360 turn for him, catching his attention at just exactly how short your dress was. A pit of jealously filled his stomach, knowing that any guy who was near you could find arousal in your dress.

“Go change.” he ordered, his tone of voice suddenly cold.

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at your outfit before meeting his gaze again. You tilted your head at him, crossing your arms in resistance.

“Why? You never had a problem with me wearing anything like this before.”

“Well I do now. Take it off.”

You rolled your eyes, walking back to the room. Jeongin followed behind you, closing the door behind him as he watched you grab your boots from the closet.

“Well I don’t care. I’m your girlfriend, men aren’t gonna bother me if I’m around you. I don’t know why you’re suddenly being so negative.”

Jeongin grabbed onto your arm, pulling you back to his body. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your face flushed red as his breath hit the side of your neck, his slight bulge pressing against the back of your ass.

“You’re mine. No one else should be seeing your body but me.”

He kissed your neck softly, his warm lips giving you comfort as they made you hotter than you already were.

“But since you want to dress like an attention seeker,” his lips latched onto your skin, sucking against it softly until it turned a soft red color.

“I’ll make sure they know you’re mine.”

You moaned in response, a small tickle dancing up your nerves. He bit the area he left a red mark, small teeth marks appearing onto your skin. You threw your head back against him, letting him undo the buttons to the jean jacket. He pulled the jacket off of you, throwing it aside onto the bed as his kisses slowly worked down to your shoulder.

Jeongin turned your body slightly, angling it enough so that you could watch him in the body mirror. His lustful eyes met your own, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“You’re so pretty angel. I just want to sink my teeth into you.”

His kisses remained soft, with the occasional bite here and there that would make you wince in slight pain. He kissed the top of your back, sucking against the skin softly until the color turned into a light reddish purple.

“Such delicate skin. It’s a shame I have to ruin it with these bruises.”

Jeongin snaked his hands underneath your dress, expecting a pair of shorts only to be met with your smaller hipster panties. He gasped quietly, slipping his fingers in between your folds.

“Wow no shorts either? Who else grabbed your attention that isn’t me?” You let out breath of relief, melting under his touch as his pads worked your clit.

Your hand wrapped around his arm, small moans and gasps escaping you as he rubbed your clit slowly. He continued to bite at the skin on your shoulder blades, leaving as many possible bite marks that he could. His lips latched onto your skin, most hickeys smaller or a darker shade than others.

“You want me to keep going baby?”

You nodded, whimpering as he played with your sensitive bud. He pressed down against it, creating more pressure as his fingers twirled in circles. A loud groan escaped you, legs shaking as he sped up his pace just a bit. He watched you in the mirror as your head rested on his chest, eyes closed as you felt your stomach churn in pleasure.

Jeongin left a trail of kisses down your shoulder, stopping to place a dark red hickey on the side of your shoulder. His finger slipped in between your folds, teasing your aching hole as the friction against your clit heightened. With every move you made, your ass rubbed on his growing bulge, earning small groans here and there. He made it a task to purposely brush himself against you, his tip leaking from your unintentional touch.

“Gonna cum.” you mumbled, his body grounding you from behind.

Jeongin tilted his head at you in the mirror, a brief moment of thinking running through his head.

“Aww, so desperate.. aren’t we bunny?”

He pulled his hand out of your underwear, picking you up bridal style and placing you onto the bed. He got in right after you, his body hovering over you. His eyes were dark, filled with a lust you never seen before. A bit of possession in them as Jeongin was desperate to mark you like a dog.

He placed his knee between your thighs, pushing up against you just enough for your clit to feel the pressure. His kisses danced on the front of your neck, his soft sucking leaving a map of hickeys against your skin. His lips moved along your collarbone and down toward your chest, making his dick twitch thinking about them.

“Fuck I just want to eat you alive baby. You’re such a beauty when I have you like this.”

He pulled the straps of your mini dress down, letting your tits pop out from under. Jeongin was practically drooling, bringing his thumb to his mouth as a source of lubrication. He popped it out of his mouth, rubbing it against your nipple softly. You squirmed beneath him, watching his lips kiss around your chest. His thumb worked tirelessly at your nipple, his warm lips leaving dark hickeys that you couldn’t hide in a bathing suit. He wrapped his teeth around your skin, biting it harshly.

“Fuck Innie, that hurts.” you moaned in pleasure, displaying an opposite reaction of pain.

You ran your fingers through his hair, arching your back under him as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. He sucked against it softly, his tongue swirling around it. He took turns between each breast, leaving small marks here and there to remind you of him.

“My, my.” Jeongin admired your tits, smirking at every mark he left on them.

“I don’t mean to hurt you angel, I just can’t stand the thought of you with someone else.”

His kisses trailed down your clothed stomach, eventually landing onto your thighs. You whimpered quietly, a funny feeling in your stomach making you excited for what he could’ve been thinking.

He bit your thighs harshly, his teeth marks making themselves present on your skin. He massaged your other thigh as he worked hickeys into your skin, trying to ease the slight discomfort it gave you.

“The thought of others admiring you the way I admire you.”

Jeongin licked your thigh slowly, pulling your underwear off and throwing it off to the side.

“You’re mine, you know that?” he looked up, his eyes meeting your own as you nodded shyly. “You belong to me.. only me.”

His tongue dragged against your folds, ending at your swollen bud. He sucked on it softly, earning a pleading moan out of you. He lapped up your juices as his finger nails dug into your soft skin.

“Do I not give you enough attention?”

He kissed the sides of your pussy, tongue still dancing around your folds. You pushed your hips upward, grinding against his tongue slightly.

He sucked on your clit, sticking his fingers into you and fucking you softly. You let out a small whimpering sigh, raking your fingers through his blonde locks as he toyed with you. The sound of your juices filled the room, his fingers curling just enough to hit your sweet spot.

“Do I not make you feel good, baby? Is this not enough for you?”

His fingers sped up their pace, making you open your legs further for him as he continued to leave hickeys around your thighs.

“You want another man to fuck you like this, eh?”

His harsh gaze admired you, watching as you helplessly moaned in pleasure while your body squirmed.

“I won’t let it happen.” His thumb moved circles around your clit, fingers still pounding into you.

He came back up to your level, kissing your neck and sucking on the skin to leave darker marks than before. His other hand held onto your chin, moving your head to the side as you helplessly moaned into his ear.

“Mm, that’s it baby.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers. “Let me remind you who exactly you belong to.”

Your moans soon turned into breathless noises, your stomach doing flips as you felt yourself slipping through his fingers. Jeongin noticed this, slipping a third finger into your aching hole.

“Gonna cum baby?” You nodded in response, your eyes showing mercy as they met his own.

“Do you think you deserve to after trying to dress like a whore?”

You attempted to whine out in defense, only for whimpers to leave you. Jeongin tilted his head at you, laughing to himself.

“I should just leave you to suffer. It is my birthday after all.” He stopped in place, his thumb dragging against your clit agonizingly slow.

“Please, Innie. I’ll change, I promise!”

He raised his eyebrow, his free hand tracing the hickeys on your breasts.

“Please? Now you want to listen?” He leaned over, grabbing your chin once again to meet his face. He glared into your eyes, his face as cold as ever.

“If I see you in this dress again, I’ll be sure to rip it off you next time.”

You trembled underneath him, his fingers starting up a slow pace inside of you. He kissed the side of your jawline, taking a small bite at your skin. You winced in response, moaning as his fingers fastened inside of you.

Within seconds of him starting, you immediately let yourself go onto his fingers, juices spilling out on his hand. He sat back, watching as you coated him.

“Atta girl, don’t hold back.”

He pulled his fingers out of you, licking your juices off his fingers before leaving small kisses on your thighs. He pulled the straps back onto your shoulder, fixing your dress before pulling you up to your feet. He walked you over to the body mirror, standing behind you with a smug smile on his face.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, watching your face flush red as your eyes fell to every hickey he left on your skin. You nodded, pulling on the strap to find the hidden ones under your dress.

“You can wear this dress if you want.” He hovered by your ear, laughing to himself before continuing.

“With these visible marks, you’ll surely get that attention you so badly want.”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: happy birthday to innie!! <33 this has gotta another fav of mine that I wrote.. may have bias wrecked myself in the process..😅

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @dollywoo @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology @stephanieeeyang @potentialgay @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!

[dollarbils]

don’t wanna be your fan | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. when your favourite fan suggests featuring in one of your videos, you reevaluate her position in your life.

warnings. smut, strap, oral, mommy kink, degrading?, ofstar!reader (very inaccurate only fans portrayal). also not proofread!

part 1 masterlist

when she’d first brought up the idea you were hesitant to say the least. she was kind, sweet and hot, but you hadn’t ruled out serial killer just yet. having her feature in a video would be great for your page since lesbian sex is climbing up the ranks, and seems to be the majority of your following. but you were hesitant, more that hesitant.

“Billie, it’s a good idea but i just don’t know if it would work out.” she huffed, on the other side of the phone, her frustration apparent.

“why not? are you scared?” she taunted you, but truthfully you were.

“it’s not that, what if my other fans think they have a shot and start harassing me?” a bullshit excuse and you knew it, but you felt like you owed it to yourself to be wary of the suggestion.

“they won’t know i’m a fan.” she paused for a second, and you could hear her breaths through the phone speaker. “besides, i’m your favorite fan right? i think i deserve it don’t you?” those words made you smile, imagining her smug little smile on the other side of the phone.

“okay.” she went silent, as if hoping you’d repeat yourself.

“wait, okay?” she asked.

“don’t make me second guess my decision. be at the hotel by 9pm or im locking my door. i’ll send the details.” she agreed quickly and you hung up, holding your head in your hands while you ran through the previous conversation to look for any red flags.

-

“i mean honestly, ask a girl to dinner before filming a sex tape with her.” she rolled her eyes, smiling softly as you positioned the camera.

“is it recording?” she asked, biting her lip when you approached her.

“mhm.” she was cautious with putting her hands on your hips, this having been the first time she’d intentionally touched you, the other, being when she’s brushed past you when you’d opened the door.

“give them a show, baby.” she tugged on your shirt, clarifying what she meant but letting you take it off. you were stood in front of her, your back to the camera while she remained sitting, letting her hands drift to your clothed ass as you slowly peeled off your shirt. once it had been discarded to the side, your jeans followed shortly after, leaving you in your underwear.

“all for me?” she teased, commenting on the matching set as you turned towards the camera. she pulled you down onto her lap and pulled your hair back so that she could attach her lips to your neck. and when she did, she didn’t make an attempt to be gentle.

“mm.” you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of her bruising your skin, sucking and licking as you whimpered. subconsciously you began to grind your heat against her thigh, the thin fabric of your thong doing nothing to mask the harsh material of her jeans.

“so needy.” she whispered, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up though, and a whine followed.

“fuck.” she exhaled, before lifting you up, and placing you on the bed. she took her shirt off and hovered over you for a second, giving you the perfect view of her tits, moments from spilling out of her tight bra.

“like what you see?” you nodded, reaching behind her back to undo it before she halted your actions.

“not yet, give me a real answer.” her tone asserted a kind of dominance you weren’t used to. annoyingly easy to comply with.

“yes.” she wasn’t completely satisfied but gave way regardless. when she lowered herself onto you, you could feel the bulge in her jeans, shutting your eyes momentarily as she pressed herself against you.

“tell me what you want, babygirl.” she smirked, pulling your chin to face her while she waited for a response.

“i want it raw.” you weren’t hesitant to voice what you wanted and it turned her on.

“ask nicely, baby.” she teased and your rolled your eyes.

“fuck. me. please.” she smiled, but contemplated it for a second, her hands running up and down your naked body, doing everything to distract you from the conversation.

“do you deserve it?” she asked, the same teasing tone lacing her words.

“yes.” she chuckled at the confidence in your voice.

“and what makes you think that? you’re a little slut after all, aren’t you?” that made you go silent, the truth to her words making it difficult to counter.

“well? are you?” her hand was squeezing your chin again, forcing an answer out of you.

“yes.” it was said with resistance but still satisfied her. she slapped the side of your ass, eliciting a small jump.

“on your knees.” she ordered, letting your imagination complete the request. and when you were on your knees, in front of her, she gave no further instructions.

“go on, show me how much of a slut you are. and maybe i’ll give you what you want.” she shrugged, taking a sort of nonchalant stance as she waited for you to unbutton her jeans. when you pulled them down to reveal her strap, your eyes widened slightly at the sheer size.

“come on, you can take it.” she’s noticed the uncertainty in your expression. but when you took the tip in your mouth, and then finally the rest, she bunched up your hair and pushed you closer to her, the tip hitting the back of your throat. you gagged multiple times, your eyes going glossy and your pussy even wetter as you clenched on nothing, moaning around her strap.

“fuck, what a whore, huh?” you nodded quickly, doing almost anything to please her while she pulled on your hair, harshly, revealing the entire strap until she pushed it past your lips again, your saliva coating the base as you whined and cried. your muffled noises turning her on and she rested her head back, closing her eyes.

“that’s right, take it like a good girl.” her voice was sultry, and so seductive you could swear you were leaking from your heat. and when she was done with you sucking her strap, you thought your mouth would bruise. when she pulled it out of your mouth your saliva made it glisten in the dim lighting. the tears on your cheeks and drool on your chin was a sight for sore eyes and the camera had long been forgotten.

“was that slutty enough for you?” she narrowed her eyes when you stood up.

“watch your mouth, princess.” she threatened, moving to grasp your hips and push you onto the bed.

“i think i gotta show off that pretty ass of yours no?” she smirked, getting on top of you once she’d urged you to turn around. you used your elbows to prop yourself up as she unclasped your bra, letting your tits spill as her hands came to feel them up. your legs were spread wide and her knee came up to your heat, pressing lightly against your panties.

“billie, please.” the desperation in your words were pathetic, playing further into her ego.

“patience, sweet girl.” she let her hands wander down your body before resting, just below your waist, her fingers biting into your hips. you fought the urge to turn your head back, to see what she was doing, but all thoughts were silenced when you felt her silicone tip prodding at your entrance.

“you’re soaking, bet i could just slide into that tight little hole of yours.” the harsher she pressed the tip against your pussy, the filthier her words got, as if the teasing hadn’t been enough already. she knew what she was doing.

“please just do something!” you whined, and she contemplated making you beg for it.

“do what? i’m going to need you to specify, babe.” you could imagine her smirk, and you almost dropped your head in frustration.

“please fuck me.” she sighed in content of your response.

“well, since you said please.” and she was pushing her entire length into you, before she’d finished the sentence, disrupted by a moan.

“fuck.” your elbows gave out and you were gripping the sheets already, feeling her push herself further into you.

“so ready for me, i swear i can feel you clenching, pretty.” she didn’t really give you time to adjust before she started thrusting, agonisingly slow at first.

“billie.” your whines only fuelled her, but she responded with a light slap to you ass.

“try again.” she tutted, halting her movements for a moment.

“mommy? please?” she groaned in satisfaction before continuing her motions.

“that’s right, baby.” it didn’t take long for her actions to turn harsh and messy, your moans and whimpers making her feral.

“ y’like getting fucked like this? like a fuckin’ slut?” she grasped your hips pulling them towards her with every thrust, as you arched your back, pushing your ass against her lower abdomen.

“mhm.” your moans we’re muffled by the pillow you’d hurried your face into. but that response obviously didn’t satisfy her. she fisted you hair again, pulling your head away from the pillow so that you could answer her.

“i need an answer, babe.” she pulled out of you completely, leaving you clenching uncontrollably.

“yes.” your mouth was running dry, your breaths still staggered.

“yes what?” she was unbelievably persistent. she wouldn’t be able to get away with it if she wasn’t that fucking hot.

“yes mommy.” she let you fall with a small bounce when you landed, and she was back to abusing your pussy.

“all your other fans can’t compare can they?” you felt the pressure in your lower stomach building, as she filled you up with her strap.

“no.” you shook your head, unaware of your words and actions, only focusing on the feeling of her inside of you.

“tell me i’m more than a fan.” the camera was so long forgotten you spewed out words of agreement.

“you’re so much more.” your hands were roaming the sheets for some kind of solace as you felt your high approaching.

“are you gonna cum on my dick then? make a mess?” when you nodded, she moved her hand to your clit, pinching it with two of her fingers, before continuing to toy with it.

“fuck.” you could barely feel your legs as her thrusts became quicker but sloppy. and when her hands came to spread your legs wider, she hit deeper spots than you could’ve imagined, and you were releasing all other her strap.

“holy fuck.” she gasped, your heat, empty and aching when she pulled out.

“fuck that was insane.” your turned around, facing her, and she almost collapsed on your body.

“yeah?” the metal on her teeth glistened through her smirk.

“mhm” you confirmed, and she came down to kiss you, no hesitation in the matter whatsoever.

“i think i’ve earned the ‘more than a fan’ title, right?” you laughed, a smile forming on her lips when she heard it.

“yeah, you definitely did.” she pecked your lips again before she spoke.

“perfect, i don’t wanna be your fan anymore.”

request (kinda)

taglist: @adinda-eilish @ijustlovemaths @sweetcherriexs @jaxon-nathaniel-drake @mybluebossanova @diceroll65 @tothediner @st0nerlesb0 @bilssturns @london-uhmye @bxllxebxtch @tan1shere @babybornbluenow @greenbttrflyy @asterisk-eyes

[moonstruckme]

hi! i just read your drabble with remus fixing the readers attitude and i was wondering if you could do the same with sirius? i really loved your other one and seen you were trying to take requests for sirius.

i hope you have a wonderful day!!

Thanks for requesting, hope you have a lovely day as well <3

cw: d/s dynamics, reader has hair troubles and uses products + tries running fingers through it so it's long enough for that

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 991 words

Sirius can hear you fuming from outside the bathroom. Heavy breaths and drawers being shut too harshly and the occasional, frustrated grunt. If it wouldn’t be such a betrayal of you, he’d take a video so Remus can see what he’s like while he’s transforming during a full moon. 

“What’s going on in there, gorgeous?” he asks from the bed. 

Your reply is nearly a growl. “Nothing.” 

“Mm. Yeah, sounds like nothing.” Sirius gets up, going to the bathroom and nudging the door open. He leans against the doorframe as you scowl at yourself in the mirror, wringing product into your hair like you half hope it just tears off. “What’s got you so wound up?”

“Nothing.”

He tuts. “Not any more convincing the second time. Try again.” 

You’re pointedly not looking at him, but Sirius notices that your scowl intensifies. “My hair is being fucking unbearable.” 

Sirius opens his mouth, but you cut him off. 

“And I don’t want to hear that it always looks good, or that you think I look nice no matter what, or any of that bullshit, okay?” 

“That’s unfortunate. I’m sorry, sweetness, but I’m not going to start lying to you. Your hair is perfect, and you do always look—”

Your eyes bore into your own reflection, sharp and wrathful. “Don’t.” 

Sirius’ eyebrows lift. “I’m sorry, don’t? Don’t compliment my girlfriend, or don’t be honest?” 

“Either. I know you’re full of shit, because it looks insane right now, but even if you have miraculously gone blind since this morning, Lily and Alice will be there, and they know what hair should look like when it’s not being so—so—” 

“Alright.” Sirius is beginning to grow amused with you. You’re so ridiculous when you’re upset, brash and squinty-eyed and cute. “Save yourself the exertion of finishing that sentence gorgeous. Take a breath.” 

“I don’t want to breathe!”

“And yet, we all have to anyway.” 

“God, Sirius, fuck off!” You finally lock eyes with him in the mirror, positively fuming. “I knew you wouldn’t get it. I’m trying to look nice for your friends, and you’re making fun of me! If my hair would just—fucking—” You appear to give up on the product, your attention returning to your hair as you begin dragging your fingers through it mercilessly. “—do what I tell it to, maybe then I’d fucking breathe, but instead it’s basically unsalvageable, and—”

“Oi.” Sirius’ humor at the situation has vanished. By the time you think to look at him he has both your hands in his, restrained from doing further damage to yourself. “No. If you’re going to be like this about going to Frank and Alice’s, we won’t go. So is that it, or can you be good?” 

Sirius uses the sharp tone he knows you’ll respond to, but really he isn’t angry. He only wants to give you pause. And oh, it’s so sweet to watch the brattiness leave your eyes. The terse pucker of your mouth softens to an almost imperceptible pout, your whole demeanor shifting in an instant. 

He takes both your wrists in one hand. With the other, Sirius cups the side of your throat, fingers curled around your nape and thumb rubbing against your erratic pulse. 

“I need an answer,” he says. 

“Yes,” you say, and your voice is soft, like the sharp edge from a minute ago has been bitten off. “I can.” 

“Good.” Sirius allows his tone to gentle some, though he keeps his firm grip on your wrists. “Then you have to relax, baby. Breathe.” 

This time, you do as you’re told. It works as he knew it would, your shoulders drooping after the long exhale like the last of the fight has finally gone out of you.

“Thank you.” He touches his lips briefly to the center of your forehead, pretending not to notice how you sway towards him for more. “Now, do you still want to go to Frank and Alice’s tonight?” 

You open your mouth, but this time it’s Sirius who stops you. 

“Wait. Really think about it. Are you going to enjoy yourself, or are you going to spend the whole time feeling weird about your hair?” 

You hesitate, rubbing your lips together. Sirius strokes his thumb down the line of your throat approvingly. 

“I still think I want to go,” you say after a few moments. 

“Okay.” Sirius nods. “Then you’re going to let me braid your hair for you. You’ll look just as lovely and perfect as you do now, but you won’t be able to mess with it any more. Does that sound alright to you?” 

Your relief is palpable. You let out a breath, eyes growing suspiciously bright. “Yeah. That would be great, thank you.” 

“Okay, come here.” Sirius releases your neck and wrists to wrap his arms around you. He presses his lips to your lovely, perfect hair while you curl your hands in his shirt as if to keep him from slipping away. Like Sirius would ever want to. “Shh. You’re fine, baby. Ease up.” 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you mumble against his front. 

“Yeah, I’ll bet. You did it more than once, if I recall.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” He laughs a little, hugging you tighter. “It’s okay. You get a hair insanity pass, just this once. Let’s have a good night, okay?” 

You let out another sigh. Sirius rubs your back reflexively. “Yes, please.” 

“M’kay. Let’s go.” He starts ushering you towards the bed, grabbing a couple of hair ties on his way out of the bathroom. “We’re done with the mirror for today. And no yelling at me while I do your hair, got it?” 

You try on a coy smile; it’s small, but Sirius respects the effort. “I could never yell at you.” 

“Uh huh. I may forgive, but I don’t forget that easily, sweetness. Try it again and we’ll be staying home to deal with that attitude of yours.”

[snickerdoodlebaby]

Thanos/Choi Subong NSFW Headcanons

Warnings: NSFW (18+), smutty, substance use, manipulation (this takes place pre-games btw!)

I imagine you two to have a friends with benefits situation. Subong doesn’t like commitment and the sexual tension between you guys is too intense to ignore.

His motto is “tits or ass? why not both?”

Would love to get you to smoke weed with him, especially the lazy messy makeout sessions that ensue during it

Has tons of experience. Don’t worry, that translates to veryyy good things for you in the bedroom, he’s so goddamn good at eating pussy.

Loves your legs over his shoulders, pressing your legs to your chest, mating press, anything that evolves him feeling up your soft legs/thighs and bending your body in half.

Doesn’t take off his cross while he fucks you. It dangles between you two as he’s above you, resting coldly on your boobs when he leans down to connect your mouths in a sloppy kiss.

Can be mean in the bedroom, but mostly very cocky and just loves to see you embarrassed and flustered. Loves the huge ego boost he gets when you cover your face in embarrassment or you can’t help the cute pathetic noises leaving your lips. You’re so cute! He’s not below making fun of you until you pout with your plump bottom lip out, and he loves to tease.

Loves when you whine his name out, “Subong…” and give him your pleading puppy eyes. He’ll grin widely and pinch your cheek, sometimes giving you what you want. Most of the time makes you beg for it while you try to hide your blushing face.

“Beg Thanos if you want it so bad.”

Will refer to himself in the third person cuz he’s silly and cocky like that

I imagine him living the high life in a mansion before he lost all his money to crypto. It’s big, modern, lots of marble and granite. Throws tons of parties where everyone gets shit-faced. Loves loves loves you being there so he can sling his arm around you the entire party. If you’re a party girl you’ll be living the dream everyday of your life. If not, well, you better get used to it, the drug scene and all.

That being said about his house, his room is a stark contrast to the rest of his place. Dim lights, neon signs along the walls spelling out his name in Korean and english, dark red walls and black accents. Various music equipment lying around, a futon (his favorite place to get blowjobs from you), a few weights, and his king-size black bed which is never made. Smoke almost always clouds the room creating a dream-like atmosphere. It always smells like weed or sweat in there and his floor is covered in clothes (some of them being yours that you forgot about).

LOVES LOVES LOVES IT when you wear one of his shirts and just panties. It’s so oversized on you and hangs off one shoulder. He thinks you look so sexy like that. Your favorite shirt to borrow is his neon green one, it smells so good, so Subong.

Pretty fit but not overly muscular. He’s got great pecs and loves to walk around shirtless ‘cause he knows you’re so weak for it (and just because).

So often you’ll show up at his place and he’ll be lazily walking around without a shirt on and a baggy pair of shorts slung low on his hips, far enough to see the brand of boxers he’s wearing. His cross laying on his bare chest between his pecs. Makes your legs wobbly.

He’s constantly got scratch and claw marks down his back from you. And lovesss to show it off.

Loves to pay for you to get your nails done (so you can scratch him with em), honestly loves to pay for your everything and I can see him using money recklessly to show off. Will never let you buy anything when you’re with him.

Will be trying to get you to use. If you don’t already, he’ll see it as a conquest to corrupt you. He knows it’s bad and doesn’t really care, he’d love to bring you down to his level if it meant you two could feel good together. Will definitely be manipulating you into taking a pill from his cross.

“C’mon baby, it’ll make y’feel so good. Ya trust me right?”

Gives you substances through sexual methods only. Popping a pill in his mouth and kissing you, pushing it through your lips with his tongue. Putting a pill on his tongue and sticking it out for you to lick off. Blowing smoke & vapor into your mouth.

Has a thing for your mouth and lips. The view of your lips stretched around the base of his cock is his favorite thing in the world. When you leave lipstick stains on his pelvis he doesn’t want to wash it off afterwards.

This man has a tattooed and pierced dick — he has no shame and a high pain tolerance. He has a dark solid line running down his shaft (like the one on his neck), a ladder piercing and a stud at the tip (like a Prince Albert piercing). You couldn’t lie, it intimidated you when you first saw it, your eyes going really wide when it sprung out of his boxers. He laughed above you at your reaction, a lopsided smirk forming on his face. How was that gonna feel inside of you…? “M’gonna make you feel so good baby.” Turns out he was right, it felt fucking fantastic.

Nicknames he has for you include baby, babe, senorita, flower, mamacita when he’s feeling playful. In bed it’s my slut, whore, Thanos’s whore, plaything. “My bitch” when he’s drunk or on strong substances.

Wants you to get a tattoo of his name so fucking bad. Has brought up the idea in passing a few times, seeming not super interested. But in reality he’d find it so fucking hot, especially if it was on a hidden part of your body like your ass cheek, the word “Thanos’ bitch” surrounded by a heart inked into your plush flesh.

Would spank the shit out of that tattoo on you.

Loves to spank you in general, needs to see that ass jiggle when it’s bouncing against his bare hips.

100% records you during sex and loves taking photos of you (whether you realize it or not during the moment). Has an entire photo album dedicated to it <3

I need to see more of him before the games, that 2 second clip was not enough smh.

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 13

Summary: Your life in Boston after Wanda.

The air is cold, and just your luck, today you left the car outside of the building’s parking lot.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all, as a cute woman is inspecting the black Corvette, in awe of the elegant and expensive car.

“Want a ride?”

“This yours?” she says, genuinenly fascinated.

“Yeap” you nod. “She’s a beauty, 490-hp 6.2-liter V-8 engine”

Do you know what those words mean? Not at all.

“My father and I used to fix cars. I need to send him a picture. Can I?”

“Sure, go ahead” you smile. “I’ll even take one of you standing next to it”

You pull out your phone.

“Oh, wait, I should have given you mine” the woman says, and you smile.

“Or you could give me your number and I’ll send the pics” you smile at her, offering your phone.

“Very smooth” she blushes, taking it.

“If you wanna talk about smooth, the leather seats are just…”

“Ugh, it’s too cold to take my motorcycle, can you give me a ride to the hospital?” Yelena interrupts, coming out of nowhere as usual.

“Shh, go away” you push her behind you.

“God, we’re gonna be late. Just skip to the part where you lie about texting the girl and get on with it” she mumbles, and luckily only you can hear her.

“Sorry, she’s being annoying” you elbow Yelena’s side. “I’ll send you the pictures, and my offer for a ride still stands”

“Well, alright then. Have fun babysitting” the woman comments, which earns her a glare from the blonde.

“Get in the fucking car” you mutter. “Why can’t you ask your mother for a damn car? She has lots of them”

“Like the one you borrow and use to get phone numbers? I don’t understand why you do it, you never call them”

“It’s not about having a date. It’s just fun to talk to girls. I never really did it outside of college” you shrug your shoulders.

You never call them because the thought of being with someone who isn’t Wanda is simply absurd.

But you don’t expect Yelena to understand it.

“I never ask for a car because then she’d be like See, I was right, a motorcycle was a bad idea”

“Get both, like your sister”

“No, because then she’ll say I’m copying her, like when she went to school with a green backpack and I got one that was similar the next day. But green has always been my favorite color” she rambles.

“Are all the Romanoffs this complicated?”

"Is your music taste always this random?" Yelena points at the screen. "Yesterday it was ABBA and now it's Metallica"

"Don't even think about changing it" you say, slapping her hand away.

You finally get to the hospital, parking in your spot, which is one of the best ones in the entire facility.

Melina is trying to convince you to stay beyond your three month contract, and she’s not shying away from providing a life of luxury, with a penthouse and a fancy car included.

If it wasn’t because you’re busting your ass in the ER, you’d feel like a sugar baby.

“Go and check on the people waiting, I have to sign discharges and look at some post ops” you tell Yelena as soon as you walk in, and she nods.

“Morning, everyone” you greet the front desk. “Is Patrick ready for his recital today?”

“Yes, he’s very excited” Nurse Roman says.

“Well, as a doctor I don’t feel comfortable saying break a leg, so let’s just leave it at good luck”

“That sounds perfect to me, Doctor Y/L/N, thank you” the woman says. You’re smiling until you notice the frown on Peña’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that. Not my fault you keep betting on Shelton when he’s literally playing against Alcaraz”

“Shelton is the future of American tennis”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the resounding noise of your debt” you say, going back to the charts but keeping your palm open. You don’t look up until he gives up, putting a 20 in your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Peña. I’m so looking forward to Indian Wells and Miami back to back”

You don’t realise that Natasha is also at the front desk, signing a couple of discharge forms.

It’s been a month and you’re already friends with half the people who work here. Natasha’s glad, because it can be miserable to be isolated while you’re away from home.

The other side of her can’t help but feel really stupid too, because all this time she thought you were flirting and in reality, this is who you are with most people.

Now that’s a fast way to humble someone.

“Hi, Doctor Romanoff” you say, finally noticing her. “Ending your shift?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Starting a 48”

“Didn’t you just do one 12 hours ago?” she says.

“Yeah, but my brother and sister are coming over so I need the weekend off” you smile, actually excited. Natasha is probably one of the only people who could understand how good it is to reconnect with your siblings, but she’s been distant with you ever since you came to Boston.

So, you wish her a good day, and walk to the madness of the ER.

“Fuck my life, fuck it hard” you mutter when you notice who’s there. Ed Lorne, aka clown nurse. He’s a young one, practically fresh out of college and with an unhealthy obsession to behave like Patch Adams in that movie that always puts you to sleep (No disrespect to Robin Williams).

“Please tell me his shift is almost over” you plead to Yelena.

“Don’t be mean. He’s trying to make an impression”

“He already did and it’s a fucking awful one”

The fact that there’s no swear jar around has turned you into a sailor on leave. Not that you keep track, but if the twins could hear you, they’d be set for an Ivy League education.

Stop thinking about this, you mentally scold yourself, trying to breathe to settle that uncomfortable feeling at the pit of your stomach.

Yelena mistakes your frustrated sigh with a protest as Ed approaches you. Truthfully, it’s a bit of both.

“Top of the morning to you, Doctor Y/L/N” he says, removing an imaginary hat.

God, you’re gonna strangle him with a stethoscope.

“Guy in bed six has problems with urinating and I’m like well, more like ur-out of my bladder!”

“Boy, you’re really bringing the theater kid energy today, aren’t ya” you complain, ignoring Yelena’s smack on your arm.

“Why, thank you for noticing”

“No, that wasn’t a compliment. Check all of my post ops and medication, then fill out the medical records in the computer”

That should keep him busy for the next two hours and away from you.

“Evil” Yelena mumbles, but she’s laughing along.

You take care of a few people, ordering lab tests and other stuff that is quickly taken care of by the staff. It’s nice to have an ER that is never short on medical personnel.

You finish your exam on a patient just in time to get your daily call.

“Hello, Judas”

“Darcy!” you say, always with the same enthusiasm.

“I hate you” she repeats, every day since you left. Well, minus the first week. You didn’t have a phone at all. “Carol hates you too and you’re no longer invited to her wedding”

You can faintly hear Carol’s voice in the background, shouting that what Darcy’s saying is not true.

“I’m trying to get her to come back” Darcy explains. “Look pal, it’s either the good way or the bad way aka getting you in the Psych ward until you go back to your senses”

“I don’t suppose you could get my stuff and send it over?”

“No, for two reasons. One, if I see Wanda I’m going to kill her and dos, you belong here. So it would be stupid to send stuff that you’ll need when you’re back. Besides, how do you know Wanda didn’t throw them away?”

“I just do. Ok, it was nice being emotionally manipulated by you, but I gotta scrub in. Same time on Monday? Remember I’m seeing Zach and Jenny this weekend”

“Yes, get me all the deets on the gossip and yes, same time”

“Love you, pal”

“Screw you”

Darcy hangs up, but stares at her phone for a moment longer. She does miss you and even if she’s giving you shit for it, she understands where you’re coming from.

“Are these the CVs for Chief Fury?”

“Yes” his secretary says, carrying a couple of files. “He doesn’t like to read on the computer”

“Oh, here, I’ll take those”

And Darcy does take them. Straight to the trash can.

Gotta make sure the job’s open when you come back.

—

You’re out of shape. It’s been 27 hours and the work keeps on coming. It doesn’t help that Boston is so much bigger than Westview.

As you sit in one of the front desks, looking over paperwork and lab results, Ed comes in, holding a deck of cards.

“Pick a card”

“Did you get the lab results for Mrs. Pattmore?” you say, resisting the urge to slap the deck to the floor.

“No, they said it would take another hour…”

“Can you check again? Thank you”

Fortunately, he leaves and you sigh.

“He’s quite the character” a man shows up next to you, and you nod.

“He is very useful when I need urgent results from the lab. The technicians can’t stand him so they rather not see him around” you laugh.

 “I haven’t seen you before. I’m doctor Stephen Strange. Yes, that is my last name” he adds when you frown.

“Oh, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m the interim Head of Trauma. Just until they find someone new”

“Huh. Not what I heard”

Well, there’s no way Melina will convince you to stay. But then again… you never thought you’d take the job in Boston.

“That’s definitely my plan” you assure him. “Were you on break?”

“Honeymoon. We just got back” he nods towards another woman who joins you, her smile wide. “Doctor Christine Palmer, meet… sorry, I didn’t get your name”

“Y/L Y/L/N. Congratulations to the both of you” you shake her hand.

“Thank you, how are you liking it here so far?”

“Everyone’s great” you say, but Christine catches your exhaustion.

“Lorne was just here asking to do a magic trick”

“Ah. That” she nods.

“Yeah” you get paged, and then wave at them. “See you around, and welcome back”

There’s a man coming in with a stab wound. Another shift from your work in Stark Hospital; the frequency of people who come in as a result of fights is a lot higher.

It was very rare to treat these kind of things in Westview.

“BP 130/70, no external bleeding or fractures” Yelena says and you nod, encouraging her to continue. “I want a chest X-Ray, transthoracic echocardiogram and blood work”

“The patient’s yours, Doctor Belova”

You’re honestly impressed. Yelena has been putting the work, and she’s very talented, especially while working under pressure.

“She has a good teacher” Melina speaks. The woman has a talent for knowing what people are thinking.

“Well, it’s in her blood, isn’t it? The whole Romanoff dinasty”

“Yes. By the way, this is your last patient. You’re not to be on call for so many hours in a week. The workload is very different here. And we will talk about a bonus so you can buy something to that girlfriend of yours to thank her for letting you be here”

About that.

Nobody knows Wanda kicked you out.

Except Yelena, but that’s because she kept asking about what Wanda said when you decided to come to Boston. The only way to shut her up was by telling her the truth.

It’s impressive that she’s kept the secret for so long.

“No need for a bonus, I’m doing my job as usual”

While you wait for the results of Yelena’s patient, the man begins to complain about pain between the shoulder blades.

“Lorne, book an OR and page Yelena” you say, knowing that’s a bad sign.

The blonde scrubs in as you begin the laparoscopy.

“What’s wrong? I’m still waiting on the results” she says, standing next to you.

“Pain between the shoulder blades is not a good sign for this type of injury. I’m seeing blood cloths in the anterior surface of the stomach and the liver. We’re switching to a laparotomy”

You find three lacerations in the liver and one in the stomach. Well, Melina’s plan didn’t work; you’re staying here for a bit longer.

As you move to inspect the pericardium, you look at Yelena, asking if she sees anything.

“No, it’s fine. Aside from the diaphragmatic perforation”

“And how are we closing that?”

“Ethibond suture with pledget” she answers after a slight hesitation.

“You’ll do it and I’ll be watching” you nod, moving aside. Truth is, your shoulder is hurting. It’s the old injury combined with the extra workload.

“Need any help?” Natasha walks in, and you shake your head no.

“I thought your shift ended”

“Came to do some post ops, and Doctor Romanoff asked me to help so you could go home”

“I’m fine” you lie. But Natasha stays in the OR, looking over Yelena’s shoulder.

“You’re making me nervous”

“Good. You could use some pressure. Y/N’s going soft on you” the redhead teases.

“I’m not!” you say, laughing. “I’ve been told I’m a great teacher”

“I’ve heard” Natasha nods.

Though Yelena takes a little bit longer than you would have, her work is excellent. Once you check everything’s done, you give the team instructions and scrub out.

“What are you doing with your siblings?” Natasha asks, joining you.

“Well, Jenny’s looking at NYU to apply. So I’ll meet them in New York, take them to a Broadway show. I was hoping they’d wanna go to the Met but not holding my breath for two teenagers to choose a museum”

“That’s fair. Have fun with your family” she smiles.

It’s weird to think about them as your family. They are, of course.

But to you, family is an entirely different group of people. One that you’ll never see again.

“Thanks. See you around” you nod, hoping to get some rest.

—

You never thought you’d be eager to see your family, but here you are, waiting in the airport, looking for Jenny.

As soon as she spots you, she runs towards you.

“Hey, kiddo”

“Make room for me” Zach says, jumping right in and making sure his sister has no room to breathe.

“You’re so annoying!” Jenny complains. Even if she’s three years older, Zach is a lot taller, being in that awkward teenage phase. “This trip was supposed to be just me”

“Y/N invited me” he says.

Well, kinda. He inserted himself in your conversations with Jenny, and as soon as he heard the words weekend in New York, he was ready to go.

“Well, I didn’t alter my girls weekend schedule for you, Zach. So just so you know, you’re getting a manicure and we’re plucking your eyebrows” you tease, walking them to where you parked. Of course they argue over who gets to ride in the front. “Alright, this is a rental. So, rule number one, no eating in the car. No throwing stuff at each other. No feet on the dashboard. And no one changes the music”

“Fine” they agree.

“First stop, the penthouse, then NYU”

Melina had heard about your trip and went out of her way to offer you everything at her disposal. Exclusive tickets, the Romanoff penthouse (apparently they have one in every major city), a reservation in a very nice restaurant.

You took most things happily. In a way, this is your compensation for emotional damages.

“So, what happened between you and Wanda?” Jenny says.

“Wow, can we at least have lunch first?” you accidentally hit the brake, making Zach hit his head against the headrest of your seat.

“I’m blind!”

“You’re fine” Jenny shushes him, turning to you. “I’ll tell you about our parent’s divorce”

“Ugh, deal. But you go first”

So, as you get food, Jenny tells you everything, with the occasional intervention from Zach. It’s nothing exciting, not technically. Their father finally realising your mother is an evil witch and taking their children away from her. It would have been ideal to do it when they were younger, but whatever.

“And you guys are doing good?” you ask, making sure things are better.

“Yeah… I just feel bad for her sometimes” Jenny admits. “Like what if she’s lonely or sad, you know?”

“That’s because you’re a good kid” you smile at her. “Let’s go get changed, we have to be ready for your college tour soon”

“What about your part of the deal?”

“Later” you say, trying to avoid talking about it.

By the time you reach the penthouse, you can’t help but admire the view to Central Park. It’s even bigger than the one they gave to you back in Boston.

“I want the biggest room” Zach says as soon as they drop their bags.

Of course, they’re engaging in a fight that involves some name calling and a lot of finger flicks on the forehead.

“You guys are worse than…”

They turn to look at you and you smile, trying to keep it together.

“Worse than…” Zach says but you shake your head.

“Nothing. Come on, better change fast”

Worse than Wanda and Pietro.

Will you ever stop thinking about her?

—

Earning the title of cool sister only takes a borrowed penthouse, Broadway tickets and exclusive seats at Yankees Stadium.

It’s day two and though you haven’t been able to convince them to go to the Met, you’re still enjoying yourself.

Kind of.

“So how long do these last?” you ask again, even if Zach explained the rules a dozen times already. “Ok, next time we’re going to the US Open because at least I’ll understand the game”

“So, you’re planning on staying here?” Jenny asks and you shrug your shoulders.

“There’s no plan for anything, really. I have two months left on my contract”

Zach goes to get more food and you keep watching the game in silence.

“Are you ok?” Jenny asks. Truthfully, though you’ve enjoyed spending time with them, Wanda’s been in the back of your mind more frequently than when you’re busy with work.

You can’t help but think about all the trips you never took with her, or wonder what she’d think about the city.

“Want the grown up answer or the big sister being brave answer?”

“I’d like the truth”

“Well…” you take a deep breath. “I’m not ok. I fucked up big time. I had everything I wanted within reach and just… I don’t know. Maybe it was never meant for me. It was too good”

“You are good enough for it, come on. Don’t say that”

“It’s hard to believe it when I hurt her so much. And the kids. But, it is what it is I guess”

“I’m sorry. If you wanna talk…”

“I know, sis. Thanks” you smile at her. All of the sudden you hear the crowd roaring and look up to see a ball that’s coming straight your way. You catch it, thinking nothing of it, while some people around you begin to speak to you. “What? Do I have to throw it back?”

“Are you insane?” Zach comes out of nowhere, taking it from you. “This is the coolest thing!”

“It’s a ball” you say, looking at the field.

“Nu-uh. It’s Camarena’s 50th home run. You know, the most promising baseball player of the season”

“Ok, if you say so”

Turns out it is a very big deal, as the player wants the ball back and is offering to meet you in exchange for it. You let Zach decide for the two of you, and his answer is an excited yes.

So, you take a couple of pictures and thank him when he hands you a signed baseball bat.

“Thanks, Carme…”

“Camarena” Zach elbows you. “I’m your biggest fan”

Yeah, you definitely earned the award to coolest sister, and it had nothing to do with all the money you spent. It came down to your ability to catch a freakin ball, like a competition with a golden retriever.

“We still have some time before we have to take the plane. What do you wanna do? You’ve been doing everything we want to” Jenny says, and you think about it.

“Let’s have a picnic in Central Park”

“Sounds fun” she agrees, while Zach keeps taking a million pictures of the bat.

As you walk around the park, you find something that unlocks a memory that was totally lost on you.

“Balto!” you point at a statue of the sleigh dog. They both look at you with blank expressions. “You’ve never seen Balto? Seriously?”

“I don’t know. Mom wouldn’t let us watch some stuff. She said it was silly to have a movie with speaking animals”

“That and Ghostbusters. But we never learned why”

“Oh, that’s because she and dad watched that movie on the day I was born” you explain while you pull out your phone to take a picture of the statue.

“Mom is such a bitch” Zach mutters and it makes you laugh.

“Come on, kid. Screw the picnic, I’m buying you the biggest burger we can find”

“See? I’m her favorite already” he teases Jenny and they begin to argue again. You hug them, staying in the middle to prevent a fight.

“Love ya both, kiddos”

—

Coming back to an empty house stings a bit more when you spent the weekend surrounded by playful banter and pleasant company.

The silence is unbearable and you know that at moments like this there’s only one thing that can make you forget.

So, even if you have to go to work tomorrow, you get changed and head for the usual club.

“Thought you found a better spot” Laura greets you as you approach the bar.

“Work was crazy” is all you say. No one knows your name, or what you do for a living. You just get drinks and dance to loud music.

“The usual?” you nod, accepting the glass of scotch. You enjoy it slowly for a bit, watching as some people dance and party. The outfits and the music are different from your time in college; plus Darcy and you used to go to shitty bars.

Either way, what hasn’t changed is how drunk people act; messy, unaware. You love it. No one’s asking if you’re ok, or why you're there.

“I was gonna buy you a drink, but you’re not done with that one yet” a woman offers with a flirty smile.

You finish what’s left of the scotch in one swift motion, and wink at her.

“There”

“Are you that thirsty, huh?” she teases, and you laugh, sipping from the new glass. “I’m Eve. You?”

“I’m… really thankful for my drink, Eve” you say, because you’re never gonna share your name with anyone else. “Wanna dance?”

The woman rolls her eyes, but follows you to the dance floor. It’s the perfect place to get lost, and avoid any conversation. The music’s loud, there’s people everywhere and you can simply disappear when you’re done.

It’s what you do best, isn’t it?

As you go out for another drink, there’s an impulse to talk to Laura.

“That was the name of a friend”

“What?”

“Laura. Well, not my friend. My ex girlfriend’s friend”

That’s about everything they have in common. This woman is covered in tattoos and has dark hair, styled in a mullet. Very Joan Jett, which is every girl’s type.

But my type is Wanda.

“Is that why you drink until I have to call you a cab?” Laura says, and you nod, taking a shot of tequila and asking for another one.

“Yeah. Come on, just one more” you plea when she’s doubting about giving you a third one. You pout and Laura rolls her eyes. “Thank you. Ah, I love this song!”

You blow her a kiss, running back to the dance floor. Wait, no, you don’t even know this song but it’s cool anyway.

And then the next one is good enough, until you’re a bit too drunk and have no idea what’s playing.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

To your disappointment, it’s a man.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you are” he says, putting his arm around your waist.

“I’m gay, dude. Stop it!” you push him away.

“Come on, you just need a good di…”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when your fist crashes against his nose.

Stupid move, as he’s tumbling to the floor, creating a commotion. You can tell he’s pissed when he stands up, but he never even gets to yell at you, because someone is pulling you back until you’re out of sight.

“You really are trouble” Laura tsks and you try not to laugh.

“He was an asshole”

“Yeah, he is. If it were up to me he wouldn’t go in at all. I have to get back to the bar. Stay here, drink some water. Then I’ll call you a cab”

“I’m sorry” you say, reaching for her when she walks past you.

“That girl did a number on you, huh?”

“I only have myself to blame” you smile sadly. “Thanks for the help”

Following the woman’s advice, you walk around the room, drinking some water and breathing to gather yourself. You’re vaguely aware of the pain in your hand, and remember that it was stupid to risk yourself that way.

If you can’t operate, Melina’s kicking your ass.

After a while, Laura comes back.

“Car’s waiting”

“Thanks… I owe you...”

“A cup of coffee”

You’re about to protest when she rolls her eyes.

“Not as a date. You have too many issues for me to handle. But I’d rather we stop meeting like this, with you starting a bar fight”

“Yeah, that’s fair” you smile, looking back before leaving the room. “My name’s Y/N, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

—

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That’s all you can think about as you get ready for a 24 hour shift, sporting a massive headache and hangover.

You’re leaning against the elevator when the doors open, and you speak without opening your eyes, handing the keys of the car to Yelena.

“You’re gonna have to drive me today”

“Yelena already left”

You look up a little too fast, eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Ah, jeez” you complain, feeling your head pound with the sudden movement.

“Rough night?” she says with a mocking tone, but then pays attention to your bruised knuckles, taking your hand. “What the hell? Are you ok?”

“Dude thought he could touch me and get away with it. It’s fine” you promise, though she doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You know mom’s gonna freak out when she sees this?”

“Don’t be a snitch, Romanoff” you say, stepping out of the elevator. “What are you doing?”

“Get in my car” she says, rolling her eyes. “You’re in no condition to drive”

“This is nice” you look around the Mercedes-Benz, reaching to touch the controls in the dashboard. Natasha slaps your hand away.

“Nicer than the Corvette?”

“Nah, let’s not get crazy”

“Did you have a nice weekend with the family?” she asks, rolling into conversation naturally.

“Yeah, we went to see Wicked because Jenny wanted to, then to a Yankees game where I caught the ball, which is apparently a big deal”

“It is, congrats”

“They made me buy some clothes that are not scrubs or…”

“Mini skirts? Like the one you wore last night”

“How did you…”

“My penthouse is in the same building, remember? Same as Yelena’s. Mom was smart enough to get a house away from everyone”

“Right”

“Doesn’t Wanda mind?”

That shuts you up real fast. And honestly? You don’t feel like lying. But as you’re about to answer her, she stops in the parking lot.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business” she mistakes your silence with annoyance.

“No, that’s not it” you explain, but then your phone pings. It’s a message from Jenny, sending you the Instagram post she made for the weekend in New York.

J: You made it to the gram!

Youths. You don’t even have instagram but click the link nonetheless. Yeah, those are nice pictures.

“Oh, you two came together?” Melina greets when she meets you in the hallway.

“Y/N can explain why” Natasha smirks and you glare at her.

“I was just feeling tired after the family trip”

“Natalia, who will be your plus one to the gala?” Melina changes the subject abruptly.

“I’m not taking anyone”

You direct your attention back to your phone, knowing they’re about to argue.

As you swipe through the pictures, a name catches your eye.

w.maximoff

What?

Does Wanda follow your sister?

She saw the pictures and liked them? Even if you were in them?

Don’t be an idiot, don’t think this means anything, she hates you, she’s better off without you.

The sudden urge to throw up has nothing to do with your hangover. You look around the hallway, and feel the desire to turn around and beg her to take you back.

You miss her too much, you can’t do this without Wanda.

Who are you kidding?

“Take Y/N” you hear all of the sudden.

“What?”

“Take Y/N to the gala with you” Melina decides, making Natasha roll her eyes.

“She doesn’t want to…”

“Yes. I’ll go” you interrupt Natasha.

Anything, anything at all to stop thinking about the one person who made your life worth living.

“Then it’s settled” your boss nods, pleased.

“Excuse me” you walk away, hoping there’s a ton of work that can keep your mind off everything else.

There is, and you’re grateful for the distraction it provides.

“I’m exhausted. How are you managing with a hangover?” Yelena complains after a few hours.

“Get some rest,” you mutter, looking at the lab results. “The OR won’t be ready for another hour anyway”

Unfortunately, it gets very slow as the day progresses. Everyone in the hospital is focused on a kidney transplant that is happening next week.

You see a woman walk in with her son to the ER and approach them.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. How can I help you?”

“Hi, yes. My son fell and I’m not sure, I think he might have hurt his wrist”

You turn to look at the kid, who is probably ten or eleven, and he looks back at you scared.

“I understand. What’s your name?”

“Kyle”

“Hi, Kyle. I’m Y/L. Can I take a look at your wrist?”

It takes him a moment to nod, but once he does you take him to one of the hospital beds where he sits. As you put on a pair of gloves, he looks around, clearly nervous.

“Cool shirt” you make conversation, noticing his Yoshi shirt. “My favorite is Rainbow Road, but the best time I ever did was on Vanilla Lake”

“Really? My favorite is Koopa Troopa Beach”

“That’s a good one” you agree, applying pressure on his wrist. “Ok, I don’t think anything’s broken but we need an X-ray to confirm. I’ll walk you there, it will take a minute”

Thankfully, it’s just a sprain.

“You’ll just wear a brace for a week, I’m also sending some medication for pain. Now, you’re gonna have to hold up on playing Mario Kart for a bit, as the movement isn’t good for your hand. Take it easy and if there’s any more discomfort or pain, come back to the hospital”

“Thank you” the woman nods, relieved that it’s nothing major. You’re about to say goodbye when her son hugs you.

“Take care, kid”

As you watch them walk away, your mind goes back to Billy and Tommy.

You miss them so much.

“Everything ok?” Yelena asks when you leave in a rush, walking towards the stairs.

Instead of answering her, you go down the steps, until you push the emergency exit, breathing heavily.

Don’t cry at work, don’t cry at work.

It’s not working. You squeeze your eyes shot, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A sob leaves your lips the minute Yelena catches up with you.

“It’s ok. I’m here” she says, hugging you.

“I miss them”

“I know. I’m sorry” is all she says, allowing you to cry as you lean your head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be…” you finally gather yourself, wiping away the tears. Your face is hot with the embarrassment of being so emotional in front of Yelena.

“I understand. There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, you should get some sleep. I’ll cover the ER for a bit”

“Ok” you nod. But she still follows you to the break room, and as you lay in bed, Yelena makes small talk, asking about your trip and telling you some funny things that used to happen to her and Natasha when their mother would leave them to roam the city while she had board meetings.

As she tells you about her favorite things from the Met, your eyes feel heavy and you fall asleep, exhausted.

The younger woman looks at you, feeling a bit guilty. She understands that everyone in this situation is an adult, and sometimes relationships don’t work.

But it’s still hard to see you so heartbroken and lonely.

“Hey” Natasha walks in the room, and Yelena shushes her, leaning her head towards you. “Is she ok?”

“I don’t know” the blonde admits, closing the door behind her.  “What’s up?”

“Mom told me you’re bringing a plus one to the gala! I thought we agreed no dates for this one”

“Oh, yeah…” Yelena blushes, and Natasha tilts her head.

“Who is it?”

“So, what are you doing? Should we find you a date?” Yelena rushes to change the subject, walking with her sister to the cafeteria.

“No, Y/N volunteered. Or, my mother kinda forced her to”

“Maybe it will be good to have a distraction. She’s having a rough time”

Natasha stays silent as they get some food. To be honest, she has been distant with you. It was hard to get close again after all the hard words you exchanged.

Natasha was just trying to protect herself.

“So you’re not gonna tell me who it is?” Natasha insists after a moment of silence. Yelena laughs, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out soon enough”

—

You open your eyes to the sound of your pager. The OR was busy for longer than anticipated and you’re about to go and check if everyone’s ready.

While you yawn, you dial Yelena’s number.

“Hello?” you hear Natasha’s voice.

“Why are you answering Yelena’s phone?” you say, doble checking that you indeed called her sister.

“Oh, crap. I took her phone by accident”

“Hey” you step out of the room, and find none other than Natasha, ready to leave for the day. “Guess your mother bought these phones in bulk”

You show her the mobile Melina gave you, though you insisted in keeping your number. It’s identical to Yelena’s and Natasha’s and every head of department has one as well.

“Heads up, she might be tracking your location”

“What? Can she do that?” you say, shaking the phone. Natasha smiles at that.

She forgets not everyone is expecting the worst from Melina.

“I better go and exchange phones with Yelena” the redhead says.

“Sure, can you tell her that the OR’s ready? Thanks”

You leave, but then Natasha’s voice stops you.

“Do you wanna do something tomorrow?”

There’s a hint of shock in your face, but you nod and smile.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna come over to watch a movie?”

“Sounds good” she agrees.

“Alright. See ya then” you wave goodbye.

Between this and the gala, Natasha doesn’t know if it’s a good idea to spend so much time together.

She’s about to find out.

—

Natasha is questioning her choices as she knocks on your door, thinking it might be unwise to spend alone time with you.

She had felt like you both got some closure after the emergency surgery on that woman. And then, one week later you had shown up at her hospital, as if you hadn’t refused the offer a number of times.

As if the thought of leaving your precious girlfriend behind wasn’t the craziest thing in the world.

“Hey, come on in” you greet, opening for her.

“Love what you’ve done with the place” she teases, watching as the only real decoration is a Polaroid picture of you and Yelena that is taped to the fridge.

“I’m happy this thing came with furniture or we’d be having dinner on the floor”

“Martha Stewart would be proud” she says and you roll your eyes.

“Come on, food will be ready in a bit” you say, asking her to open the bottle of wine.

“Where’d you get it from?”  she asks as she hands you a glass.

“Uh, the grocery store?” you look back from the stove.

“Wait, you’re making it? From scratch?” she puts her glass down, looking over your shoulder.

“Well, not from scratch, it’s not like I made the pasta”

“I thought you didn’t cook”

“I didn’t” you smile, offering her a taste of the sauce. “But I got used to the finer things in life, like a good old homemade meal, and had to figure out how to get something done”

“This is actually really good” she says, surprised.

“I will give you a pass because I am also surprised that my cooking’s not so bad”

It must have been because you used to watch Wanda cooking all the time.

Ah, shit.

Maybe eventually you’ll go a day without thinking about her. Or not, and that’s your karma for being an idiot.

Once everything’s ready, you pull out two plates, and serve the food.

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Not sure, could we eat first?”

“Why, want to check that I won’t give you food poisoning?” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “Oh, come on! I’ve never gotten sick and it’s been a month!”

“Let’s just eat”

“Fine, are you sure you’re gonna be ok talking to me? You’ve been avoiding me since I arrived in Boston” you comment, though you can’t be mad at her.

It was easier to blame her for your screw up that own up to it. You’re not particularly proud of it.

“I wasn’t sure if your girlfriend would give you shit for talking to me”

“We’re not together anymore” you blurt out, making Natasha stop chewing.

“You’re shitting me”

“She broke up with me” you shrug your shoulders. “So I quit my job and ran away like the asshole I am”

There’s a beat of silence, and you keep eating. You’re not expecting anything from Natasha, like pity or words of comfort. It’s just the way things are.

“I had no idea… I’m sorry. I feel responsible”

“Nat, don’t. Honestly, you weren’t wrong. I am attracted to you, and I didn’t set boundaries. If anything, I’m sorry for being a jerk and ruining our friendship”

She keeps eating quietly, and you know that she accepted the apology without making a fuss about it.

“Crazy, stupid love” you mumble after a couple of minutes.

“Yeah, I guess it can be”

“No” you snort out a laugh. “I mean that’s the movie I wanna watch!”

“Oh, I don’t know it” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, it’s not a Bond movie. Come on, now that you’ve seen my food won’t take you to the ER, let’s get everything ready” you say, picking up the dishes. Maybe you’ll make popcorn, even though you are full.

“Wait a minute” Natasha says, and when you turn around, she’s got you cornered against the kitchen counter.

“Huh?”

“You said you are attracted to me. Not were. So you still are” she smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, yeah. Have you seen yourself?” you stutter. It’s not helping that you’ve gotten used to physical intimacy and you’ve been craving it for the past weeks.

But that makes you think of Wanda again.

“I just… you deserve more than being a rebound, Natasha. And I am serious when I say I’m not staying beyond my contract”

You know you can’t be someone who isn’t heartbroken and in love with Wanda. But you can at least be honest about it.

“I know. It’s just fun to watch you get all flustered” she says with a sultry voice.

“Not funny” you say, pushing her away.

“Let’s watch that silly, corny movie now” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna love it”

“Doubt it”

As you suspect, she’s critizing Cal at every possible turn, calling him a loser. She’s also constantly texting about the hospital in between complaints.

“Hey!” she protests when you snatch her phone.

“I know we’re both workaholics, but you’re missing the parts with Emma Stone which are arguably the best ones. And this big reveal will blow your mind”

So, you put both of your phones down in the coffee table and take it as a win when she’s laughing at some of the moments in the film.

“Hannah is Cal’s daughter?” Natasha screams when you get to that scene.

“See?”

“Damn!”

“Bathroom break” you announce a while later, leaving the movie playing as you know the dialogues.

Natasha is actually interested in the movie when her phone rings and she picks up without looking away from the screen.

“Hello?”

She’s met with silence, which makes her actually pay attention to whoever called her.

Shit.

Wanda.

She took your phone.

But before she can explain or tell the other woman to wait, the call disconnects.

“What’s wrong?” you say when you return, sitting next to Natasha. “I know it’s sad, but I promise it has a happy ending”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“Nat, you’re scaring me”

“I thought it was my phone, I picked it up. Wanda called you” Natasha says, handing over the phone to you.

“Oh” you tilt your head, shocked. “What did she say?”

“Nothing. She hung up. I’m so sorry”

“Well, maybe she just wanted me to get my stuff. That’s the only reason she’d call me, honestly” you say, returning to the movie.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Natasha insists.

“I don’t know” you confess. Maybe you’re in shock. It feels surreal to have Wanda call you, after everything she said to you.

You left your old phone at Darcy’s house before jumping on a plane. You only got your old number back after Melina gave you one of those fancy phones.

Now you wonder if she ever tried to call you.

“I should go”

“And leave me to drown in obsessive thoughts?” you say dramatically. “Look, what’s the harm here? That she’ll think the worst of me, and then what? We broke up. She kicked me out, I’m gone like Wanda asked me to. I’ll just text Pietro and ask if the kids are ok”

That was your real concern. You had a feeling that it could be a mistake or something very serious. And you’d always put your pride aside for the sake of the kids.

“We’re watching a horror movie now” Natasha snatches the remote as soon as the credits roll, looking for Insidious. “That will distract you for sure”

—

“You’re evil” you say when Natasha walks out, laughing.

“And you’re a baby”

“There was a demon! Sewing while that creepy song played. You’re sick, Romanoff”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” she says, whistling the song as she closes the door.

Now you won’t be able to sleep.

But there’s also another thing in the back of your mind.

Pietro hasn’t answered which can mean that it Wanda's call was a mistake and he’s choosing to ignore you.

Or something so monumentally horrible happened that he doesn’t even have his phone on him.

“Fuck it” you say, trying to control your breathing as you dial back.

You begin to feel like an idiot, especially when it’s pretty obvious Wanda won’t pick up the phone.

Hands squeeze the device as you deal with the disappointment. You are about to hang up when you hear it.

Wanda, saying your name.

And for a moment, you feel like everything’s ok again.

[gongyoosgf]

nam-gyu as your bf!!

warnings: namgyu is his own warning, smoking, possessiveness, fluff, smut at the end, choking, control kink, lowkey hand kink, slapping, overstimulation, praise, degrading, blowjob, unprotected sex, aftercare, uhh yeah all that stuff

an: i wrote this in an hour

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who wants to act tough, even though he knows you have him wrapped around your finger. he tries to keep up a cool, unbothered attitude, but the second you tease him or show him affection, he gets all flustered. if you compliment him out of nowhere? he’ll scoff, subtly covering up how his ears turn red.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who gets jealous way too easily. he won’t admit it, but the second someone gets too close to you, he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and glaring at them until they get the message.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who secretly loves it when you “baby” him, even though he huffs and complains. “i don’t need you to fix my shirt,” he grumbles, but he doesn’t move away when you do it.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who melts the moment you play with his hands. he watches quietly as you trace over his fingers, spinning his rings around (because he definitely has one of those spinny fidget rings).

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who refuses to sleep unless he’s holding you. if you shift away even a little, he’ll instinctively pull you right back with a grumbled, “where do you think you’re going?”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who acts like he doesn’t care, but is secretly the biggest worrywart. “text me when you get home,” he says casually, but if you forget, expect a passive-aggressive “did you die or something?” text.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who always lets you steal his hoodies, even though he complains about it. “why do you even need it? you have your own.” but he never actually takes them back, and if he sees you wearing one, he won’t shut up about how good you look in it.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who secretly loves it when you mess with his hair. if you randomly start running your fingers through it, he’ll roll his eyes but lean into your touch, completely betraying himself.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who teases you constantly, but the second you fire back, he gets all pouty. “that’s fucking rude,” he says after spending the last ten minutes roasting you.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who gets distracted whenever you talk because he’s too busy staring at you. when you call him out on it, he just shrugs. “you’re cute when you talk, that’s all.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who is actually really sentimental. he keeps little things you’ve given him. notes, random trinkets, even a receipt from a place you went together. he won’t tell you, but if you ever find them, he’ll get all embarrassed.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who acts like he’s fine when he’s upset, but the way he clings to you says otherwise. he won’t say anything, just bury his face in your shoulder and hold onto you a little tighter than usual.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who never says “i love you” first, but always finds ways to show it. pulling you closer when you least expect it, keeping a hand on your knee when you’re sitting together, or letting you take the last bite of his food (even if he really wanted that last bite).

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu whose hands are always freezing. without warning, he’ll press them against your neck or slip them under your shirt just to hear you yelp. but if you try to warm them up by holding them, he gets all quiet and lets you, secretly loving the attention.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who likes to act like he’s too cool for couple stuff, but secretly loves it. he’ll roll his eyes if you suggest matching outfits, but later, you’ll notice he’s wearing the same color as you without being asked.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who has the best laugh when he’s high, usually because something random happens, and he just starts giggling uncontrollably.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who always acts like he’s not paying attention, but notices everything about you. the way you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, the way you tap your fingers when you’re bored, he picks up on all of it.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who acts all grumpy when you wake him up, but if you stop talking to let him go back to sleep, he mumbles, “keep talking… i like your voice.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who never shuts up about you when you’re not around. thanos so tired of hearing about it, but he doesn’t care. thanos will just be like, “bro, we get it, you’re in love.” and he’ll just smirk, “yeah, and?”

nsfw below!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who loves pulling you into his lap. sometimes it’s innocent, but most of the time, his fingers press into your hips just enough to make you squirm on his bulge. he tilts his head, amused. “something wrong?”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who loves to toy with you, whispering things like, “you have no idea how much i wanna fuck you right now. all i can think about is getting you alone, but you’re making me wait.” his lips brush against your earlobe, lingering just a second longer before pulling away.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who’s fully aware of the effect he has on you. when you try to act innocent, he whispers teasingly, “don’t try to act like you don’t want this as much as i do.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who loves messing with your patience. when he’s teasing you in public, he’s not afraid to keep it going, fingers brushing against your neck, his thumb pressing softly over your pulse point, making you want to squirm, but he won’t let you. “you can’t touch me yet,” he says in a low voice, but he can see how badly you want to.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who gets real handsy when you’re both alone. one moment, he’s playing it cool, and the next, he’s pulling you into a deep, desperate kiss, hands gripping your waist tightly, pressing you flush against him. “did you miss me that much?” he teases, even though it’s clear he’s just as hungry for you.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who loves to make you beg for him, but in his own way. he’ll be so smooth, so casual about it, but when he sees you getting desperate, his smirk widens. “not yet, sweetheart. you need to earn it.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who loves watching you fall apart beneath him. whether it’s just his words or his hands, he knows how to make you unravel completely, to the point where you forget everything but him. “look at me,” he groans, as his lips hover over yours. “don’t fucking look away.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who’s got a kink for control. he’ll put you in a position where you can’t escape, whether it’s pinning you down on the bed or holding your hands behind your back, he wants to be the one to make you squirm. “you don’t get to decide tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with authority. “i’m going to do what i want with you.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who knows exactly how to rile you up by whispering dirty little things in your ear while his hands roam under the warmth of your clothes, making you ache for his touch even more.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who gets a thrill out of slowly undressing you, his cold hands brushing over your body, making you ache for more while he watches the way you shiver under his touch, not allowing you to rush a single moment.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who lives for the power he has over you. when he makes you beg for more, when he sees the look in your eyes that says you're completely lost in him, there’s nothing hotter. “say it,” he demands, his voice rough and low. “say what you want.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who can’t get enough of how you tremble when his cold fingers slide under the waistband of your pants, letting them hover just before touching your skin, feeling your anticipation rise with each passing second.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who pushes you to your knees, taking control of the situation as his hands grip your hair, forcing you to take all of him as he fucks your mouth, groaning with pleasure as you give him exactly what he wants.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who loves to trap you under him, using his hands to pin your wrists above your head while he kisses his way down your neck, his lips rough against your skin, but his body heating you from the inside out.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who can’t resist the sound of your moans. he’ll slow down just to make them louder, smirking when your grip tightens on his shoulder, your breathing shallow. “i love hearing you like this,” he says, his lips brushing against your skin. “don’t hold back for me.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who presses you into the sheets, holding you in place as he moves over you, making sure you feel every inch of him against your skin, loving how you beg for him with every breath you take.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who’ll slap your thigh, forcing you to gasp as he grins at the reaction, loving how he can make you lose control under him.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who loves making you beg for him, his fingers digging into your skin as he moves against you, his touch demanding and possessive, making sure you know who’s in charge while he’s lost in the raw intensity between you two.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who pulls your hair to tilt your head back, his cold fingers digging into your neck while he kisses down your jaw, marking you with his rough, needy touch, as if reminding you that you’re his in every way.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who slams into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pushing you into the mattress with each thrust as he watches you unravel beneath him, your moans spurring him on until you’re both completely lost in the passion.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who grips your hips tightly, his voice a growl, “you like this, don’t you? being fucked like you’re nothing. you’re mine to use however i want.” he slams into you again, making sure every word stings with possessiveness.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who enjoys hearing you scream his name, his cold touch trailing down your spine as he makes you shiver with each movement, knowing exactly how rough to be to make you ache for more, all while keeping you at the edge of your pleasure.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who pulls you close, “say it, fuck, tell me you want me.” his thrusts become relentless, his voice dripping with hunger, “i need to hear you beg for me.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who pulls you into his lap, hands wrapping around your neck as he forces you to ride him, his grip tightening as he controls every movement, making sure you’re completely at his mercy while he watches you fall apart.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who’s not satisfied until he’s made you cum at least twice before he’s done, making sure every thrust hits deep as he relentlessly fucks you, knowing exactly how to get you to the edge. “you’re going to take it all, aren’t you? i’ll fill you up, make you mine completely.” his voice is rough, each word a command, “don’t even think about running. you’ll stay with me until you’ve given me everything I want.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who grits his teeth and looks up at you as he’s about to cum, his hands gripping your throat just enough to make you dizzy, before he fucking loses it, cumming so deep inside you that you both feel every intense wave of it.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who doesn’t let you stop, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he makes sure you’re shaking with pleasure, not stopping until he feels you come undone.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who, after he’s finished, pulls you into his arms, his cold hands caressing your skin gently, brushing your hair out of your face as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, “you did so well for me… just rest now.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who lights up a joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke before leaning back, pulling you into his chest. “just relax with me.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who, after you’ve both come down from the high, gives you the blunt, watching you take a drag as he smiles softly. “i love seeing you like this… at peace. let me take care of you.”

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who pulls you into a slow, lazy kiss, holding the blunt lazily between his fingers, the smoke mixing with your breath.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who’s already high, his body feeling relaxed as he pulls you onto his lap, lazily stroking your back, tracing over the curves of your body.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 bf!namgyu who makes sure you’re hydrated, giving you water and taking the time to sip it with you, making sure you’re feeling good after everything, “i’m so proud of you.” his voice is gentle as he takes care of you in the most thoughtful way.

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uhh taglist: @kouzih @cybrasigilism @222hyunju